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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

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The Dark Passenger - Chapter Seven.

Thank you to everyone for your interactions! I have noticed these dwindling of late, though, just 18 notes for the last chapter. Surely we can do better? If not, I might have to bring the unlocking system back and only release a new chapter when the previous one hits a set number of notes.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Words - 3,212

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“Is that a birthmark?”

She thinned her lips, trying not to laugh. “Nope.”

“Sock mark?”

She shook her head, EZ eyeing her ankle again. “Okay, I give in. What is it?”

“Fake tan cling.” The face he pulled had her in soft fits. “I know, I know! It’s shameful, given that I do these professionally. I got a rub from new shoes and then after it had almost healed, I didn’t want to exfoliate and knock the scab, but my tan needed topping up and I don’t do the sunbeds or sunbathing, so yeah. Sorry, that was probably as boring as watching paint dry for you.”

He cocked his head, kissing the side of her foot. “Little bit.”

She gasped, mock aghast. “You’re not supposed to admit it!”

“Hey, at least I don’t lie!”

Except he did. All the time to her, Camille having absolutely no idea, either. At least in that moment, though, EZ was actually having a sincerely good time without resorting to any game playing, somewhat wedged in her bath, sat at the opposite end, rubbing her tired feet for her. These moments did happen, where he didn’t feel overwhelmed by the need for control or manipulation, when he just enjoyed Camille for who she was, how he felt when she was with her, and not the hoops he could stealthily make her jump through.

“Damn, you girls have so much stuff, I swear. What, do you get a product discount at the salon or something?” he remarked, eyes touring the bathroom, especially round the outside of the tub as he began picking things up. “Exfoliating face polish, exfoliating body polish... are they not the same things? Little bits of grit suspended in some kind of perfumed goo?”

“No, they’re different,” she began, taking the face one from him. “This one is finer, because body polish is too harsh for the face, the gritty bits you speak of are smaller, so it’s kinder to the more sensitive skin. This stuff is really, really good though. Here.”

Squeezing some out onto her fingertips, she reached for him, EZ recoiling. “Nope, I don’t need to be buffed, no!” He lifted his chin, resisting as she moved onto her knees between his legs, trying to apply it to his face. “Camille!”

“Oh, sit still and let me pamper you!” He grunted with begrudging acceptance, scrunching his eyes tightly shut while she massaged the scrub over his face. “I thought you said the stuff for the face was finer?”

“It is,” she hummed, working it along the sides of his nose.

“It’s like being sandblasted!”

“Oh, EZ!” she snort laughed, fingertips working along his jaw. “For someone who has a scar on his abdomen that I suspect came from a bullet, you sure do complain.”

He grumbled in mild complaint as she picked up a washcloth and began wiping down his face, EZ further crumpling his features. “I’d rather be shot again.”

“So dramatic,” she teased, bobbing her tongue between her teeth, giggling at the dark look he gave her.

“No, dramatic is my brother,” he stated.

“Does his wife attack him like this too, then?”

“I have no idea, but she waxed his chest once and he screamed so loud, I swear, he nearly blew the clubhouse doors off,” he explained, beginning to laugh. “She’d been shopping with Gilly’s girl, and got these waxed paper things, so they’re sitting there doing their legs, and Angel being Angel said it couldn’t be that painful, so she stuck one on his chest and ripped. He nearly died! Said if she ever came near him with one again, he’d divorce her, and he was sticking with a razor.”

“Yeah, it can be painful! You should let me do yours some time, though. It lasts longer than shaving,” she offered, EZ raising an eyebrow and shaking his head.

“Absolutely not. I don’t get much anyway, just a small patch in the centre I shave off when I’m in the shower. I’m not like my brother, if he let his grow he’d look like a Persian rug.” She cracked up at his statement, her giggles escalating.

“Bit like your balls then, huh?”

“Oh, screw you, Camille! I trim, I’m tidy!”

“What with, a weed whacker?”

He scowled, her giggles escalating. “Now you’re really gonna get it.” He lunged for her, blowing raspberries at the side of her throat as he tickled her beneath the water, water that sloshed out all over the floor as she scream laughed. What began as silly fun quickly gained heat, EZ lifting her from the water, carrying her soaking wet body to her bedroom and throwing her down onto the bed, diving on her with hunger. Pretty quickly, though, she was the one to top him, in a way that had EZ absolutely out of his mind with arousal.

“You look very content down there, I, ahhh, I have to say,” she purred softly, watching his eyes burn gold in the dim light coming from the many candles she’d paused to light, his tongue dragging through her folds as she grinded herself against it, his hands stroking her thighs as she sat astride his face.

“I have a mouthful of my favourite thing in the entire world, of course I am.” Her hips gyrated in serpentine, tender, wet folds dragging over his plump lips, his chin, his nose, getting herself off on the angles of his face, just as he wanted, soaking him with her dew. His tongue darted out again, catching her sensitive, swollen clit, her mewl filling the room as she continued to rock back and forth, back and forth.

She whined, and it was the most beautiful sound to him, Camille utterly lost in the tempest of the moment, slow and winding, her nails flexing upon his powerful forearms, his tongue swiping through her folds as she purled forth again, drowning him in the slick gush from her hot, pulsing cunt, like a honey pot dripping into his eager mouth. “Yeah, my gorgeous baby. Get me wet. Fuck, you taste incredible.”

Every word uttered had her pulse throbbing madly, her pleasure ascending, EZ pulling her down closer to him, lifting his chin as she moved back once more, her gaping opening stimulated by the press of it, his tongue pushing within, grunting as he felt her muscles pulse against it. He let her ride it, circling, his nose nudging deliciously at her clit before she slid up once more, shaking, overcome.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she wailed, his lips enveloping her clit and sucking until the lightning struck home, her tingles wild and tempestuous as her pussy melted into his mouth. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” What followed, though, well...

His many inches of thick, hot heaven stroked pure ebullience against her sensitive walls, her dainty fingers clutching at her breasts as he held her thighs apart, fucking her frantically, sexually decimating her insides, giving himself with keenly delivered thrusts. Actually, keen was not a word that could be used to describe the utter pounding Camille was receiving.

What he gave was all-out sexual brutality, the headboard banging against the wall, her body sliding back only for the clutch of his powerful hands to keep hauling her back, anchoring her to him, forcing her to take the brunt of it entirely. And that brunt, nothing could feel better. Nothing did feel better than EZ, fucking her with all the power of a turbo charged jackhammer. Nothing.

His body was an absolute masterpiece to her lust blown eyes, all thick, tattooed and smooth, covered in a sheen of sweat as he railed her mercilessly into the bed, his thumb beginning to stroke at her hardened clit as the punch of his cock drew lewd noises from within her soaking walls, pleasure crackling through her, the swell skittering through her veins and down to her bones as she wailed helplessly, at the mercy of him entirely.

“Look at you, fuck. You look so fucking beautiful, split around my dick.” he growled, grasping her legs and hauling them up to rest against his chest, turning his head to lay kisses and little bites at her ankle, adding to the teeth marks he’d left over her already, the brandings from a man near out of his mind with carnal fury.

He then slowed, each plunge into her fluttering centre given in all-in, all-out thrusts, teasing her aching core, chuckling at her frustrated little mewls as he panted hard. “EZ, please! Fucking give it to me!” she demanded, nails raking his arms.

“But I am, querida. Just not the way you want it.” he winked, laughing further at her vexation, the circles at her clit rubbed so slowly, lightly and tightly that she almost forgot to breathe, his cock popping out again, pausing, arrowing back to her summit as he groaned, her slick muscles contracting on him tightly. He leaned forward, her knees touching to her chest, bearing his weight down through his pelvis right into the very plush of her, kissing her throat before gently clutching her jaw, turning her head to look at him. “Alright, my little dove. I’ll give it to you.”

And god, how he did, sending Camille to the edges of heaven, the way he arrowed into her without even a hint of control, long, hard, barbarous thrusts delighting her entire body, her screams filling the room as lava began to bubble and pool at the base of her spine, the release set to erupt, his thumb circling at her bud faster.

His teeth crushed at her neck, whispering a string of cusses as his undoing possessed him, like a demon vying for release, her entire body tensing as with fury, longing and fire, she came undone spectacularly beneath him, seeing stars, breathless and sweaty, and oh so very satisfied. Such was the measure of that satisfaction, they both fell into dreamy slumber soon after, pleased that neither of them had anywhere to be the following morning.

It was just coming up to 10am when a noise from the front door awoke EZ, his head shooting up, senses on high alert. Camille might have lived in a decent neighbourhood, but you could never be so sure. Pulling his boxers on, he picked up his gun from where he’d left it upon the dresser, toeing the partially ajar bedroom door open and waiting, hearing someone walking down the hallway. He stepped out at speed, gun primed, the air filled with a scream.

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Marge yelled at suddenly being confronted by a huge, barely dressed, gun toting man, dropping the hessian bag she’d been carrying onto the hallway floor, resting a hand to her chest as she heard a scrambling noise coming from the bedroom. Immediately, EZ lowered his gun.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he began, Marge feeling like she’d just birthed her own spleen. “Camille didn’t tell me you were coming over. You’re Marge, right?”

“Yes, at least I was until ten seconds ago. I’m now Marge’s ghost. And you are?”

“EZ.” He offered his hand, Marge shaking it just as Camille appeared behind him.

“Sorry, I should have mentioned that mom sometimes comes over unannounced,” she spoke, kissing his shoulder as she slid past him, EZ nodding before excusing himself to dress. Thank fuck they hadn’t been partaking in anything even remotely similar to what they had prior to falling asleep, or her mother would have gotten a different surprise altogether, one distinctly more embarrassing, too.

While EZ dressed, Camille ushered her mother into the kitchen, closing the door behind them, Marge setting her bag down before turning back to her daughter, her eyes wide, jerking her head towards the door. “That’s one tall drink of water.”

Switching the coffee machine on and tightening the silky tie of her floral robe, Camille nodded, grinning. “Isn’t he?”

“And how long have you been with him for? I take it this is new, since mommy here knows nothing of him?”

“A few months now, but it’s going really well.”

“Alright, and tell me, why does he carry a damned semi-automatic handgun?”

Marge Smith was nothing if not extremely direct, Camille beginning to feel a little uneasy. “Protection. He lives in the lesser nice area of Santo Padre. Besides, mommy, you carry!”

“Yeah, but I’m five two and stumpy. Women like me get car jacked, I’m a target. He’s no damned target!” They shared laughter there, Marge continuing. “And what in the hell kind of name is EZ?”

Oh, she was on form that morning, the spritely redhead beginning to unload the bag she’d brought with her, freshly baked bagels placed on the counter, a tub of cream cheese following.

“It’s short for Ezekiel,” Camille informed her, pulling coffee cups from the cupboard.

“I like that, yeah, that’s a good name. Very biblical.” She paused, chewing the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Quite the contradiction, since the body on him is built for nothing but sinning.”

“Mommy!” Her daughter’s cry had her in soft fits, Marge pulling homemade jam and some smoked meats from the bag, her purchases from the farmer’s market that morning up in La Jolla she’d decided to spoil her daughter with.

“Well!” Taking the package of prosciutto over to the fridge once she’d pulled out a few slices, she playfully smacked Camille’s arm with it, her smile full of menace. “You really gonna tell me you were up playing dominoes all night with him, hmm? I saw the nail marks on his chest, my girl.”

“You are not like other mothers,” she sighed with a smidgen of embarrassment, taking the ground coffee and pouring it into the top of the machine.

“No, I’m a realist. Always have been. I’ll leave thinking you’re still a sweet little virgin princess who’s saving herself for marriage to daddy,” Marge spoke, picking up the jam jars and placing those in the fridge too, Camille mouthing her thanks for the grocery treats. “You’re welcome, chickadee.” Giving her a hug, she kissed her cheek, humming softly. If Marge Smith lived for anything at all, it was her three children, Camille the eldest at twenty-five, Candiace next at twenty-one, and Corey the youngest at seventeen.

Marge was mid-way through toasting a stack of bagels when a freshly showered EZ walked in, thinking he could be courteous enough to not reek of the fact he’d been banging the woman’s daughter for half the night, since he was set to sit down at a table with her.

“So, EZ,” she began, handing him a plate with a cream cheese and prosciutto smothered bagel and a smile. “Tell me about yourself.” He did as they sat, of course leaving a lot of details out, Marge spotting it instantly, but also wondering something else much more prevalent.

“You seem a smart kid, I gotta say it,” she began, EZ looking a little entertained.

“At almost thirty-five, I’m not really a kid any longer,” he snorted softly, his big grin still in place to indicate no offense was either meant or taken.

“I’m fifty-two, so to me, you’re a kid still. Deal with it,” she spoke through her kind smile, EZ noticing just how forthright and direct she was, but friendly with it. Camille was very different to her mother in that respect, much timider. “Anyway, as I was saying, you’re smart. What the hell are you doing working at a scrap metal yard with those brains?”

Camille noticed him stiffen a little, but wondered what his response would be. He was articulate and bright, it was obvious he’d paid attention at school and likely gone to college, too. She wondered the exact same thing, in all truth.

“Well, I was on a completely different trajectory. I did two years at med school, training to be a doctor until suffering a traumatic event that resulted in the death of my mom. If it’s okay with you, I don’t mean to shut you down, but I’d like to leave it there.” He had to keep up an image of a somewhat respectable man, he realised, so wasn’t about to reveal that he’d served eight years for killing a police officer in the immediate wake of his mother’s murder.

Marge winced a little, her face full of sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry, EZ. That must’ve been awful.” She reached for him, rubbing his forearm affectionately, Camille hugging the top of his other arm from her seat beside him.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry too, baby.” He smiled to indicate it was okay, kissing her head and wrapping his arm around her, Marge touched at how fond he appeared to be of her daughter, who she went on to speak of with pride in the name of changing the subject.

“You know, some people lose a little of that sweet, childhood softness as they grow, but not my girl here,” Marge began warmly, reaching to stroke Camille’s hand. “I remember when she was four, and we’d gone back home to visit my mom in New Jersey, and there’s this little stream that backs along the rear of the property. Anyway, I’m busy feeding Candie, and suddenly Camie shoots off down the bank before I get chance to grab her, all because she saw a butterfly drowning in the water, so jumped in to save it.

“There it was, this tiny little creature most wouldn’t have noticed struggling, and Camille spots it right away, covering herself in algae and mud in the process of retrieving it. Then years later when she was eighteen, we were coming back from a big beauty expo up in LA, and she swerved her car over suddenly, jumped out, and actually stopped the traffic in order to rescue a kitten from the middle of the highway. That kitten is now my pain in the ass, fully grown Maine Coon, who hates everyone bar me and this one.”

Marge stayed for another hour regaling him with stories of her daughter before having to leave, explaining that her husband was taking her out for a late afternoon lunch, and she wanted to get back and do ‘a little clean’ as she worded it, Camille knowing no such thing existed in the Smith household.

It was while EZ had gone out back to take a phone call and Camille was searching through her beauty stash for some sample face masks she’d picked up for her mom that Marge noticed something concerning as she slid her feet back into her comfortable, blue moccasins. Her hand reached out to grasp the leather kutte hanging from the peg in the hallway, recognising the logo on the back. Mayans, California. And Ezekiel wasn’t just any Mayan either, he was the president of their town’s charter.

It made a slither of fear trickle through her, knowing that beneath the veneer of the polite, smart and charming man she’d met, lay a man who was much more dangerous than he seemed. And her daughter was besotted with him.

What could she do, though? She was twenty-five, a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. She just had to hope that EZ wasn’t one she’d come to regret.

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pbandjesse · 3 months

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Me and James are at Jess's house! None of us are tired but we have to wake up at 5 to go to the airport so we are going to try our best to get some sleep.

Today was a restful day. Like I did my best to not make myself crazy. I slept in even! I actually wanted to keep sleeping past 930 but I knew it would actually make me feel worse so I slowly worked on waking up.

Dad had texted me not long before I woke up so I asked if I could call him at 10. And when I did I put him on speaker so I could continue to lay there. But it was so nice to talk to him. He told me a story about when he first bought my childhood home and how he got hurt. I didn't know that! They told him he would never work construction again, but we know now that he got better. But that must have been so scary for him.

He wished me and Jess a good time on our trip and we said goodbye. And I finally actually got up.

I decided to take a shower and shave my legs. Which we never have enough hot water for. But I made it work. I did not wash my hair so I will have to do that Sunday night. At the hotel. Which is not my favorite thing but it fine. I got dressed and felt really cool. This was a good look.

I spent the morning cleaning a bit. It was more organizing then like swiffering and wiping things. I made the bed. And shook out the rugs. And then rolled them up to pack them away. I had leftover Indian food for breakfast with tortilla chips. And I watched some videos. I packed a few more boxes and took down all my miniatures from my wall of house frames. I could not take down the houses because our drill is at the house. So that will have to be done later but I made great progress and it felt good.

I sat down to catch up on all my knitting. Which took about an hour. I just watched a video and did all the attachments and I am very pleased with January so far. I'll finish this month and start the next next weekend after we are back.

Once I was done I put on some shoes to walk to Walgreens. I got some gum and a cliff bar and a new nail file. I wandered around and hugged the stuffed animals. And then walked home. I found a really cute basket in the alley that I took home and packed all my 2005 and 2012 furbies in with my mom furby robots. It was a good time. Felt really productive.

I went through my packing for Disney again. I wrote down every item in an inventory. And double and triple checked that I wasn't missing anything. And there were things so could have added for sure. But I really wanted to be streamlined, so I can have room for any souvenirs, and so I wouldn't have to carry to much. And I think I did an excellent job. I feel like this might be the best packing I've done since me and Jess's road trip.

By the late afternoon I just wanted to lay in bed with sweetp. He was being very very needy. I was filing my nails and he was biting the file and being a menace. But I would get up to sweep the studio because after I moved the rugs I discovered how much junk was under the rugs and dirt and pins and junk. So I went to borrow the broom from the hallway and discovered I had some packages. Amazing.

After is wept I opened my packages and it was some house stuff. The window clings. Some contact paper. Things like that. I also got a new hair clip that looks like a bird and a little bow ring that I think it so darling. Like a little reminder on your finger.

I had some Mac and cheese and chilled with sweetp until around 330. And then I decided to get some snails out of the frog tanks, something I have let fall by the wayside. And then refill the water and feed everyone. Because then it was time to go. I said goodbye to Sweetp and told him I would be back in less then a week. And then I was off.

I struggled to the car a bit. But mostly because things kept falling out of my pocket. But I was able to collect everything and things were okay. And then I was off to the museum to meet James.

I would come inside after rearranging my bags in the backseat in the parking lot. James ran out the door to point at me and we were both smiling and laughing so big. I hung out inside with them and other Jesse for a little bit. Talking about wedding venue prices and how James wants the crane to get big googly eyes to become a new mascot for the museum. Which I think is a great idea.

We had to leave though. And after a quick stop for fries and nuggets at McDonald's we were off. And it was a nice ride. We had a nice conversation about life and names we like and being together. It was really good.

We made one more stop at a rest stop. Where I looked at the claw machines but did not play. And then pretty quickly we were at Jess's!!

I was really excited to see her. And quickly we were all piling in her car to go get Thai food for dinner.

This place was a hole in the wall but the food was great. We had some very silly conversations about our childhood meals and things we like or don't like and there were lots of laughs and it was just really lovely. Two nights this week I got to have dinner with my favorite people. I'm so lucky.

We got back here and I tried to help Jess with her packing. But she wants to bring three pairs of sneakers so there was only so much I could do to help consolidate. I think in the end we did a pretty good job. And we were able to get two pieces of outerwear cut from the suitcase and that freed up a bit of space. Jess said she hated me that I was only bringing my one fleece. But my black fleece has been all I want to wear since I got it so I just lucked out!! I didn't even bring a sweatshirt, figuring I will buy one in Disney probably. It's not my fault she wanted to bring a fleece, a crew neck, two cardigans, a zip up hoodie, a rain coat, and a denim jacket! She wanted to be prepared for every weather. I decided to just love with the consequences of bringing just this one.

We would do what we could though. And after switching some of my trading pins to her lanyard and moving a few things around I feel like we are ready and will have to do very little in the morning. Excellent.

That whole time James was in the couch working on editing their podcast. It was nice to have their energy there. I am going to miss them being there this week!!! It will be very hard being away for so long.

We would all start getting ready for bed. Against our wills. But James is winding down now. Despite an annoying cough they keep having at night. And I am ready to try and sleep too. I am going to go grab my water from the other room and turn off the light. I hope I can get some sleep.

Tomorrow we will fly to Florida in the morning and spend the day at Disney springs and exploring our hotel/resort. I'm very excited. I am going into this with an open mind and open heart and just going to lean into every experience I can. I think it's going to be wonderful.

I hope you all sleep well tonight. Wish us luck and safe travels! Tomorrow I will be writing from Disney World! Goodnight!

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randomisemily · 10 months

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So, I’m a new mom.

Writing this on this blog, I can’t believe it. But this blog has been my rant blog for years and years. And it still is. Even when years have passed, crazy.

So yes, new mom. My baby girl is three weeks old tomorrow. And the reason I need to rant is because of my issues with breastfeeding.

My breastfeeding journey is short. But I love long stories, so I’ll start with the baby making process. No, it’s not that kind of blog. I mean, the journey. Because that was, in fact, quite a journey as well.

Before Covid, my husband and I got engaged. We were ready for marriage and after that, kids. I’m not “traditional” in the sense that I needed to be married before getting kids, it just made more sense to me. Practically, I wanted a typical big wedding and I knew I didn’t have planning skills (etc…) to put together a wedding while having a baby already. So, wedding first. Then babies!

We set the date in August 2020. But yes, Covid came along and yes, we had to postpone, at least, the party. We did actually get married that day. With 14 people in total to witness it.

We needed to wait to throw the party until the end of september 2021. Baby fever, however, did not wait.

The wedding finally happened and I threw out birth control as fast as I could. I even went to the doctor for a check up, right before the wedding. Forget getting my nails done, what’s up with my uterus?!

Trying to conceive, I quickly learned, is a whole thing in itself. Tracking your cycle. Finding your ovulation. And so forth. But I did it. And came to the conclusion: this is hard! I quickly became obsessed with my ovulation and trying to figure out the timing. After a few months of obsessively trying to conceive, I really felt like something was off. My cycle. What a long cycle did I have. For people who don’t know, on average a cycle is 28 days. Mine was often 35 days or longer. WEIRD.

Fast forward a few months and in April-May of 2022, I needed to put a hold on conceiving because of gall bladder surgery. I had known about this surgery since February, so it didn’t make sense for me to try and conceive for a few months. Bummer!

After the surgery, I went to see my OBGYN. It was about damn time there was a baby in my belly, I figured.

PCOS. That is what I have. And that’s why I couldn’t conceive. I was heartbroken. Sure, it wasn’t severe. But the future was so uncertain. Will I ever be a mom?! (If you read the first line of this long ass rant, you’ll know that I will).

There was a solution, however. Pills and check-up. It’s really not hard, if I look back at it. It’s not IVF, or anything. But oh god, it was still really tough. You take the pills. You wait. You go for check-ups, get your blood drawn, get the results and you have intercourse whenever THEY say you should. And then… you wait once more. Ha, what a joy. So, first cycle, nothing. Not even an egg growing. No ovulation. Just hormones all over the place. 2nd cycle: yes, I ovulated! No baby. Third cycle: A BABY!!! A red line appeared on my (many many many) tests!

What a relief. What a miracle. Incoming: baby on the way at the end of May! (Actually, she came on the first of June)

My pregnancy was smooth AF. First trimester was mostly me, a zombie. Wanting to sleep all day. Barely ever getting sick. One time, I was sick. And I also got the flu. That is all. In fact, I went on a trip to Madrid while 8 weeks pregnant. Had lots of fun and barely any symptoms.

My bump started to grow around 20 weeks. I was so exicted, yet also very insecure. What if people thought I couldn’t poop? That’s what the tiny bump looked like. I felt pregnant. I had been feeling kicks for a few weeks. But I didn’t look pregnant.

But that’s okay because the bump came around and I enjoyed every day. Even the days with heartburn. And even the ones where I felt like I couldn’t put shoes on anymore or shave my legs (and other parts).

If someone were to ask me to do it all over again, I would. It was wonderful.

I was a week late when I gave birth and I thought I’d get induced. In fact, me and my husband were SURE. So sure that we booked a table at the restaurant we went for dinner to celebrate me being pregnant. Yeahhh, we had to cancel, of course. Stupid us. Labor was fine. Painful. Traumatic. And all that. But fine. I mean, I ended up with a baby. Puked three times and fainted on the toilet seat. But I got a baby!!!!

AND HERE COMES THE BREAST FEEDING PART

So, I had always expressed wanting to breast feed. I don’t know, seems like the normal thing to do. Nine months, my baby had been eating what I was eating. I thought I wanted to continue. And create that bond.

From the start, though, it was painful. My nipples were bleeding. And by the time I left the hospital, I was almost scared to let my baby near my boobs. Here is the thing: I was informed. Breastfeeding didn’t have secrets for me. So I thought. Nobody tells you that your 3 day old baby can cause blood gushing from your nipples. A midwife told me: “you think she has teeth, right?” Jokingly, ha ha ha. Yes, she seems to be a vampire. That’s for sure.

The first day home, she didn’t want to eat. The 7 AM feedtime turned into the 1 PM feed time. The hours in between, screaming and crying. And not just her.

With a lot of help from my midwife, she finally had her breakfast and lunch. And we found a solution for the pain, as well as why she wouldn’t want to eat, etc.

The weekend came around and the midwife weighed my baby. She gained weight! Yaay!

Come Tuesday, she had lost a massive amount of weight. I was in shock. What the actual???

Breastfeeding hadn’t been going great. She wasn’t the best at it, I wasn’t the best at it. But it had been going, you know? Yet, she didn’t gain weight. She dropped weight. My tiny baby was losing weight and she didn’t have a cute thick belly but you could see her ribs. Man, I cried.

The next few days were terrifying. We decided to add formula to her feeding schedule, so she’d gain the weight. And she finally did. But the breastfeeding was getting tougher and tougher. At a certain point, I breast fed her for 20+ minutes, my husband gave her a bottle and while he was doing that, I was pumping. That whole ordeal took 45+ minutes and we had to do it all over again every two hours. My husband felt like a washing machine, I felt like a milk cow.

The pumping wasn’t working and my husband had to go back to work so we switched to the combo of breast/formula at the beginning of this week.

Yet, soon enough, she wouldn’t drink anymore. Was I afraid she’d lose the weight again? No, we had formula now. But God, I was TIRED.

And so was my body. I needed to give it a rest. I realized I barely make enough milk for her to get fed once a day. And she needs it 8 times a day.

I am heartbroken and releived at the same time. I needed to learn how to enjoy my baby without the dread of feeding time. And I have. I love her so much. But man, the mom guilt is real. The fact she doesn’t get to taste the food I eat every day. The fact I can’t give her what she needs now that she’s not inside me anymore. It could eat me up. But, I’m writing it off. She’s thriving on formula. Her belly is full every day. And she’s happy. I’m letting it go.

And I can’t wait to tell her how her first three weeks of her life were like. 🥰

The truth about breastfeeding is, it’s hard. It can be wonderful. I wholeheartly believe that. I do. I always will. But for me, it just wasn’t. I now feed her in a lot less time and, after she’s fed, she sleeps on my belly or in my arms. I don’t know if I’d trade anymore.

I was so informed and had so much help. Which I am so grateful for. But no one prepared me for when breastfeeding just doesn’t work.

You know, come to think of it. The same thing goes for trying to conceive. I was informed and knew all about my cycle. When to try. How to try. But at the end of the day, no one informed me about the devestation of when it doesn’t work.

I guess this is just a rant. But listen, if someone does read this: it’s all worth it. Trying to conceive. Worth it. Pregnancy and labor: worth it. And yes, breastfeeding was worth it as well. If I wouldn’t have tried…. I wouldn’t have known.

And at the end of the day, I love her so much.

#ttcjourney #pcos #breastfeeding #trying to conceive #postpartum

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farahgaines45 · 6 days

Text

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sourcherrymag · 1 year

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four poems by anastasia kimm (she/her)

bondage

When I was young

I had committed myself to christianity

in a pledge to my deteriorating

self:

I had no lashes

— thought they could

put me back together again;

I sat and drew dots on my arm

my carnal desires

had exhibited themselves.

I was eating raw meat in the dirt

when I was a devout vegetarian-

where you sit in family gatherings

and there is a cross

above the mantelpiece

when you settle back home

and flick through gore videos

(and the slicing of skin

is the slicing of meat)

and you let your lover whip you

and you cry

and you can’t explain why

if it’s catharsis or pain?

and when you wear shoes a size too small

and when you cut your own hair

and when you don’t wear a bra

and you pray that they would relinquish you

sorely dissatisfied

and an ever sorer loser-

I certainly don’t lose at games

so I draw dots on my legs

— and I get so annoyed

because they bleed-

and you are me because I said so

and I say so

and I crack the whip

and we are both crying

and we don’t know why

and nobody talks about it

ego fuck

I like buying things I can’t afford

— if I’m dressed expensively

I can live it

I won’t have enough money to buy food

which will make me skinny

thankfully

everyday I go home

I wash my hands and face twice

and slather myself in whipped cream

as it melts off in the gross summer heat

I wrap myself in bed sheets

into a gripped, sticky cocoon

my routines maybe not normal;

in the morning

I measure my fringe

and cut off the stragglers.

There’s always stragglers!

(I figured that one out

in 2009)

sometimes my way of living

makes me a little insecure.

people like to ask me what I do

when I’m not working

so I tell them I watch tv

and listen to radio operas.

I’m not going to make any new connections

sure, it’s alright, but it’s tiring

god awful so boring

and if it doesn’t happen instantly

it won’t happen at all

so I’m going to stop wearing glasses

I think I’ve seen enough

it’s a real pain being burdened

by your own existence,

you know!

I start fist fights in the mirror everyday

(that’s another part of my routine)

if I break the fourth wall again

landlords gonna kick me out

I don’t think any amount of money

in the world would satiate me

when I’ve got none left

I make fun of men in bars

are you getting married yet?

no, I’m boring, jobless, awkward, pasty,

an OCD maniac,

twenty

and ready to mingle.

I’m going to sell all my belongings online

I’m going to become an ebay monk

I’m gonna count my vegetables

— I’ll do it in rhyme

I’m destroying all my ego fuck

kate moss

I must assert this notion

of whatever you’ve

plastered onto me:

I would hope I don’t have so bad

a reputation

that you would laugh at me.

I’m not pretentious

I just like going on walks

and taking photographs,

like most young women do

except I’ve made a statement

to start spending money on it

I don’t drink caffeine anymore

I keep myself up

I writhe alone in my room

…to bad music

when I eat chocolate,

it’s by a gross impulse;

it always bulges over

like a fat man’s beer belly

I don’t read the news,

— most times it’s forced on me,

I’m not interested in news

not interested in feet

I care about wars

I care about the rising cost of living

I make myself furious

thinking I can’t afford

trinkets

who cares if you shave anymore?

dropping acid

and holding signs aren’t

political statements anymore

go back to the 60’s!

with your notions you’ve made of me

I’m going to eat pasta

out the kitchen sink

I’m going to eat it through

and then I’m going to throw up

I want to look like kate moss!

— nobody can write poetry anymore!

I picked up a book

(if I’m not writing it nobody can)

it was full of text messages

(I miss you but I can’t write about it anymore)

I’ve never seen such shit writing

(I’m so shit at writing)

that I’m writing words on the ceiling;

it’s really is a shame

I have terrible eyesight

— I have no idea what I’ve written!

telephone

I exist to put aside my passions:

pick up the phone

always speak in the same tone

and I swear it’s the last time!

but I always make a fool of myself

(again)

what’s the use in pretending

when my heart breaks at its seams

every time I’m struck blind

by another cupid’s evil eyes

— you’ll never be mine!

not in the same way I am yours

and I fall apart every time

I’m the last to hang up

I never give up

I am the dual knife

that stabs and receives

and for every time you don’t see me

I am cursed to dig deeper

and one day you’ll find a dart in your side

and one day you’ll wish you never asked why

Anastasia Kimm is a creative writing student based in Nottingham, UK. She writes mostly poetry, sometimes short fiction, and one day perhaps a novel.

#poem #poetry

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iheartleos · 2 years

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Tbh, I wasn’t a fan of castaways either. I only really liked the scene where Joey shaved Pacey’s beard. The episode itself was boring and poorly written. The writers tried to address why Joey and Pacey moved on from each other but they didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. Also, it was annoying how Pacey kept bringing up Dawson but getting annoyed when Joey brought him up.

Pacey: Ok. Well, you know what? Now that you brought it up, yes. A couple of months here, there, really wouldn't have hurt. I mean, I'm not asking for the lifetime you've devoted to feeling bad about Dawson, but just a couple of weeks.

Joey: Unbelievable! Pacey! I can never win, can I? I guess I can't. It's kind of like taking my head and beating it up against a rock. I mean, who had more sex? Who was with who longer? Isn't there some sort of boy calculus you can use to figure out who won and just leave me out of it?

Pacey: Right, 'cause god forbid I might just be talking about you and me right now.

With that said, I think Castaways is better than Clean and Sober. Clean and Sober was so boring, the dialogue was bad. When Pacey was telling Joey that she inspires him to be better I was rolling my eyes. This narrative keeps being shoe horned in, it’s not earned.

I also wasn’t a fan of the episode where Joey was Pacey’s secretary for the day. Pacey told Joey he doesn’t need to respect her or be kind to her because she’s his secretary. She spilled cream on a reporters leg. They had some more bad banter which led to them making out. I didn’t find it endearing. The chemistry was there, but their dynamic didn’t have much substance.

You’re right about Joey being a fantasy. I think the male writers wrote her to be their version of a perfect women but by doing that they took away her agency and turned her into a Mary Sue. It’s hard to ship Joey with Pacey because (a) she’s fickle (b) Pacey puts her on a pedestal. All the guys on the show love an idealized version of Joey.

i finished … im happy w pacey and Joey being endgame, i think the 5yrs ahead thing was needed bc that was the only way they could get back together with it making any sense bc at least 5 yrs ahead u can use the whole like distance makes the heart grow fonder and them being apart made them miss each other blah blah blah whatever.

castaways and clean and sober to me felt like one long episode where the writers were forcing the two characters together, and it just felt so weird esp bc suddenly he’s like being around her im realizing how much i love her but like ??? hes been in her dorm the last year hooking up w her roommate…i can’t. it’s just bad writing. the secretary one was my fav out of those three only bc at least there’s some semblance of storyline to the episode, like okay the reporter is coming in, okay Joey is jealous, finally some emotion, okay the two actors are still amazing together, great. the last two eps of the series, the writing was much better dialogue wise and pacing wise, but so much of season 6 just felt like they had no ideas of what to do or were trying to bring in new things to see what viewers liked.

and i think it’s okay that pacey puts her on a pedestal, as all men should with their gfs at least in the beginning. joey as a character is fickle and indecisive which could’ve been a way to explore more interesting development of her and her life and her becoming ready to actually decide on something for herself but … yeah of course the entire series boiled down to her being a object tossed between two guys. and also i read fan takes about pacey and dawson’s finale dynamic have undertones of queerness which … actually i thought was interesting, some ppl were saying that none of their fighting / dynamic has to do with joey truly it’s that they both couldn’t stand that they’d choose someone else over each other. that at least helps my brain understand why two boys would be so annoying about the whole situation for six years. like it wasn’t them fighting over the girl it was them fighting bc they didn’t choose one another at the end of the day.

but yeah honestly i just can’t believe how bad the show is. like objectively speaking. ive been trying to rewatch eps bc first I’ve grown attached to joshua and katie …… which goes to show how good the acting / personality is w all of those main castmates like they carried those cheesy storylines at 20 yrs old. but i can’t rewatch it’s just so bad the dialogue is so weird and it makes me sad bc there was so much potential w the talent and the premise, it just feels like a show about nothing. and returning to pacey and joey, that’s sad on another level because they decided last minute to have them be endgame, that was why it felt so rushed bc the writers supposedly were for dawson and joey but they did audience surveys or something and realized ppl didn’t want them together and it just is so disappointing bc the show could’ve had such a better written s5/s6 if brain cells were used.

#dawson’s creek #ask

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missluckycharms · 3 years

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What about nobody knows their secretly dating, but they’re always flirting. So one day all of their Friends are at a club and y/n gets on the dance floor and starts twerking and Harry comes up behind her and starts grinding and tapping her ass and all there friends are whistling.

This Little Secret Of Ours.

A/N: hiii! I made this into a best friends brother! Harry blurb and I also changed a few things. I hope you don’t mind! Enjoyyy !!

**I will be getting around to all your requests in the next few days, please be patient !! Thank you !! **

Warnings: suggestive content, mature language, alcohol consumption, Harry is a cheeky lil shit.

It started when Y/N was nineteen and Harry was turning twenty one. It was never meant to happen, but what could she do? She was attracted to him, and he was to her.

They have a connection that you cannot look past no matter how hard it would be for them to be together, they needed to make it work.

And they did, they’ve hid it from everyone for nearly two years now. No one even suspects the pair is together, they never leave anyone have any suspicion on if they might be together. They even go as far as having some little fake argument just to keep up the “we hate one another” image in front of all of their friends — Y/N’s best friend being in that friend group, Harry’s sister.

The only way that this works between the two, is because Harry has his own flat, he bought it recently and Y/N as basically moved in, she’s rarely at her shared flat with her other best friend — always saying she was visiting family for days at a time, but she was really hiding out in Harry’s small one bedroom studio apartment together, cuddled up under blankets away from the world.

Every Friday their friend group has a tradition: they all meet up at the local night club and catch up on their lives, talk about their week, have some drinks and just have fun. As they’re older, their lives are getting more hectic and they have less time together, so this little meet up each week gives them the chance to feel like teens again.

Today is like every other Friday, Y/N is in Harry’s getting ready, the pair fighting over the one bathroom, Harry running in ahead of her for a shower as she “takes too long” and she “has to shave her bits and bobs!” And it “takes for ages!” Y/N always fires back with her usual response: “you’ve long hair too! You don’t see me complaining when you take ten years to apply your hair masks and then give two washes of it all!”

That small argument happened nearly an hour ago, Harry laughed back and slammed the bathroom door in her face as she stands in only his bath robe, her towels in hand along with a new packet of razors she picked up on her way over here. She rolls her eyes and huffs turning around to head back into his bedroom.

“Might want to give it twenty minutes m’love, I used up all the hot water” Harry says calmly, walking out of the steamy bathroom in only a towel slung around his waist and another towel drying the ends of his long curls. Y/N looks up from her phone, her eyes narrow as they only have three hours to get to the club.

“This is why I go first!” She yells out, flopping down onto the bed in annoyance at her boyfriend who’s laughing while running some curl cream through his wet locks, his eyes focused on himself in the mirror.

“Gives you twenty minutes to have some Harry time!” He says wiping the residue of curl cream into his towel, his smile wide as she looks at him from where she’s laying on his bed, her lips in a pout and her brows furrowed in anger.

“I had plenty of Harry time this week, you were like a kid! Barely got any time to even pee!” She yells as Harry just laughs at her angry self, loving how cute she looks when her lips pout and her eyes roll with her pretty eyelashes framing them. He adores her, all of her.

The twenty minutes is spent by Y/N being tickled by Harry as she yelled and laughed loudly while he teased her for being ticklish, her body squirming on the bed as he hovered above her with his fingers tickling her ribcage causing her to loose control of her whole body and melt into a puddle of flailing limbs and loud screeches. Harry eventually let up his tickling, allowing Y/N to finally shower and start to get ready. He’s currently sat on his bed, ready to go in his black and white silk button up, black skinny jeans and some black leather boots. Y/N is currently curling her hair and applying some makeup as she stands in her outfit: a simple black silk dress with black heels.

“Look so beautiful m’heart, love the sparkly straps on your shoes” he points out when she’s finally ready, Harry sliding his phone into his back pocket to get a closer look at his girl, his hands snaked around her waist as he pulls back to rake his eyes up and down her body carefully, his lip between his teeth as he observes her.

“Thank you H, you don’t look too bad yourself. New shirt?” She asks reaching up and tugging on the collar a little, only three buttons done up on the whole shirt leaving his tattooed chest to show through with his many necklaces — what was more eye catching was how sheer the fabric was, allowing his butterfly and other tattoos to be visible when light is shined onto him.

“Bought it last week, more sheer than I thought but hey, who doesn’t want a front row seat to the nipple show? Huh?” He asks shaking his chest at Y/N, her eyes rolling as she slaps his chest playfully as he pulls her in for a kiss.

“Can’t kiss you until we’re back here, which won’t be for like, God knows how many hours” He mumbles against her lips as they kiss one another passionately and slowly, their hands roaming one another’s bodies as they take in every detail of each other.

“You always take me into the bathroom for a quick fuck or a make out session, don’t act like you don’t do that” she fires back with a tug to his bottom lip with her own teeth, a groans escaping his chest at her action, his hands squeezing her ass a little as he pulls her more into him.

“Keep talking like that and we aren’t going anywhere baby” he says lowly, his tongue licking over her bottom lip as she smiles against his lips, her hands roaming his chest, then his stomach and then down to his crotch, giving him a tight squeeze when she feels how hard he’s getting, Harry lets out an involuntary moan at the feeling, his hips pushing into her palm as she licks over his bottom lip slowly as she goes.

“Come on big boy, we have somewhere to be” she says pulling away, fixing her dress and wiping her lipgloss from Harry’s lips, her eyes looking at him innocently as if she didn’t just tease him and get him hard two seconds ago. He groans as she grabs her handbag, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him as she trots towards the front door of the apartment.

“You coming?”

“Unfortunately no” he says sighing, looking down at his erection in his tight skinny jeans, Y/N rolling her eyes at what he means.

“Harry, get out into the cab” she says tapping her foot against the floors, her phone buzzing with messages from the Uber driver that he’s outside and not waiting any longer than five minutes.

“Fine” he sighs, grabbing his house keys and sulking his way towards the cab, Y/N apologising for the delay and Harry just pouting like a toddler beside her as they head off to their night out with all their friends.

—

The night has gone smoothly, Harry and Y/N sitting at opposite ends of the table they’re all sharing in the booth, their eyes catching one another’s every few minutes but their slight eye fucking flies under the radar due to how dull it is in the club. Their friends are chatting, laughing and singing as they all sip their drinks and talk about nonsense, Y/N being dragged into conversation about how her job as a florist is going by her best friend Jada, while Harry is dragged into a conversation by their friend Chase about nonsense due to his drunken state — Chase loves to pre drink and now he’s drunk as fuck.

Harry is nodding and smiling along to Chase’s words, his fingers fiddling with his beer coaster in boredom, all he wants to do is have drunken chats with Y/N about nonsense like they usually do when they drink at Harry’s place, the pair having a bottle of wine each as they dish out random facts and stories from their childhoods and Harry’s one year long college experience — he dropped out because he couldn’t handle not being around Y/N, she was too far away from him and plus, his dorm mate was a nightmare.

He’s brought out of his small daydream of half listening to Chase while also mumbling along to the words of the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the packed nightclub, by his phone buzzing in his back pocket, he takes it out and keeps it under the table on his lap, looking down to see a notification from Y/N. He doesn’t look up as he opens it, his eyes widen at what the message says.

Y/N: mind if I shake my ass on the dance floor?

Harry: don’t you dare, your ass is mine and mine only. Don’t think about it baby love.

He looks up to see her looking at him, her lip between her teeth as she locks her phone, him mirroring their actions as they stop their small conversation. Her eyes are dark with lust, a tug pulling at the corners of her lips as she leans over to whisper into Jada’s ear. Harry watches her like a hawk, legs spread under the table, arms crossed over his chest and his head thrown back against the wall of the booth as he narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, her own challenging smile getting thrown back right at him.

Jada is the first to move, then Lola and then Y/N, leaving Harry at the other side being sandwiched between Chase and Niall, Niall is currently on the phone trying to speak to his landlord about a busted pipe in his house, but instead of going outside he insists to stay in here, he has a massive fear of missing out. That’s Niall for you. Harry watches Y/N like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her body as she holds onto both Jada and Lola’s hands, their smiles wide and they mouth along to the words of the song,

Her eyes are on him every now and then, her hips swaying as she dances with her friends, others around them dancing aswell as Harry doesn’t take his eyes off his girl on the floor, the lights flashing about and illuminating her every now and then as she moves to the beat of the song.

Harry’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees her bend over and begin to shake her hips, causing her ass to jiggle about as Lola and Jada spur her on, slapping her ass a little as she laughs loudly, looking over to Harry who’s now stalking his way to the dance floor, pushing past the crowd of people. Jada nearly slaps Harry when he picks Y/N up by her waist, flinging her over his shoulder as she laughs loudly, Harry shaking her head as barely anyone on the floor recognises what’s happening due to how dark it is, Jada and Lola following hot on Harry’s heels as he carries their best friend like a sack of potatoes back to the booth.

“What was that for?!” Jada yells slapping her brothers chest and bicep, her brows furrowed in anger as Harry now holds Y/N close to him his hands around her waist as they both look at Jada with small smiles.

“She was showing off what’s mine” Harry says with a smile, looking down at Y/N who scrunches up her nose with laughter, pecking his lips lightly as they both finally get to show love to another in public, in front of everyone.

“I knew it!” Niall yells nearly falling over the table, Chase whistling and clapping as he nearly passes out due to how much he’s moving right now.

“Only because I told you!” Lola fires at Niall who rolls his eyes looking at them all, Jada stood beside the pair not knowing what to say.

“We all had a feeling, we were just waiting for you both to say something; there’s only so many times we’ll believe your bra just some how ended up in Harry’s car” Jada says rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N burying her face in Harrys chest in embarrassment over the story.

Jada hugs the two, immediately running up to order a round of shots in celebration of the new couple — well, not that new, but now they’re officially together in the eyes of everyone else. They couldn’t be happier and they couldn’t be more grateful that Jada didn’t lose her shit.

“Guess this little secret of ours is out, huh?” He whispers to her, her smile wide as she looks up at him with her arms slung around his neck holding him close.

“I guess so, boyfriend”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #asks open #anon ask #answered asks #ask box

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

#Bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #avengers fluff #the avengers #marvel #marvel fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #fatws

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lesbianboyblog · 3 years

Text

Attack on Titan characters with an alternative s/o

Each characters s/o has a specific alternative style!! This idea came to me while I was doing my makeup today enjoy ☆.｡.:*

☆Modern au☆

Mikasa:

plzplz, you two are a goth power couple

goth Mikasa supremacy

The two of you met while looking at necklaces in a thrift store

You both were reaching for this cross necklace

She had insisted that you could take the necklace, and you insisted that she took it

Eventually, Mikasa ended up taking the necklace, but the two of you stayed together in the thrift shop to continue to browse the store together

Now the two of you regularly go on thrifting dates

Every other friday she takes you to the local goth club so you guys can enjoy some local music

Mikasa loveslovesloves when you paint her nails and she loves painting yours

You guys get matching demonia boots <33

For your sixth month anniversary Mikasa gifts you the necklace from the first day you guys met

Horror nights!! One of your favourite chill date nights is watching horror movies and eating snacks while cuddled up under some blankets

Armin:

The two of you look like polar opposites in the most adorable way

Armin, had a more casual style and your punk attire was more, in your face

You two met in a bookstore

Armin was looking for new books to read and he had bumped into you in the gothic literature section

He was mesmerised by your fishnet covered legs and heavy Dr. Martens

You two talked about gothic literature and you even recommended him a couple of books

The two of you would go on coffee dates and talk about books, music tastes and much more

You’ve tried to get him to listen to your music and he enjoyed some of it

(He really likes the Ramones)

Record shop dates!!

Armin really likes Hozier, and got you really into him to

Buys you cool earrings and other jewellery if you have piercings anywhere else

Hange:

okokok, hear me out.. Hange with a scene s/o

The first time they saw you they were completely starstruck

Hange immediately ran up to you and showered you with compliments. They just loved your style so much!

Once you two start dating they sit down and watch you do your hair and makeup.

Might even ask you to give them a scene makeover once

Please make them a kandi cuff, they will literally melt (especially if they’re a matching pair for the two of you)

Becomes a big fan of scene music, the energetic music is very entertaining

Will glare at anyone who gives you weird stares in public

Picture this... walking around with Hange, you in some nice platform shoes end Hange in crocs...

If you like posting on social media they are so down to be your personal photographer

Shouts out corny compliments while taking your pictures

If you have any piercings they will constantly stare at them

Hange always offer to help dye your hair, might not be the best results but its just nice to spend time together

Overall super supportive of your style, finds you so unique and cool

They are your number one fan <33

Yelena:

Yelena is OBSESSED with your style and your music taste

Constantly asks you for music recommendations

Makes playlists of the songs you like so you can listen to them in the car with her

LOVES, going to concerts with you

She’d be great in a mosh pit

After begging and begging, Yelena finally lets you do her eyeliner

she looks so hot omgomgomg

Lets you paint her nails black so the two of you match <3

Starts to ask for you to do her eyeliner on occasion

If you have any tattoos she’ll be obsessed with them

When the two of you are cuddling in bed, she traces them with her fingers

Yelena doesn’t know if shes wants any tattoos for herself(You’ve told her multiple times that she’d be hot with tattoos), but she admires yours a lot

Goes with you to get piercings, and eventually pierces more parts of her ears

She just wants to be cool like you

Yelena brags about you so much, she thinks you’re the coolest person ever

Is probably very into the political aspect of alternative culture and wants to talk to you about that sort of stuff

If you ever want a undercut or to shave any part of your head she’ll be SO down to help you

Teases you for still being shorter then her, even if you’re wearing giant platforms

LOVES LOVES LOVES, when you kiss her and leave a dark lipstick mark

Levi:

Levi had a emo phase in highschool

So having a alternative s/o isn’t that weird to him

Although he doesn’t listen to the music anymore, he feels somewhat nostalgic whenever he hears you play your music

Also helps you dye your hair

If you have piercings he’s going to make sure you are keeping them clean, piercings can get so gross

Gets slightly annoyed if you wear tall shoes and tower over him

Will jokingly complain about how tall you look in the shoes

But he actually really loves it <33

Good luck trying to get him to agree to let you do his eyeliner

He will not give in, no matter how hard you try

Carries around a lint roller with him so if you ever need to get hair off your black clothing just find your boyfriend, he’s got your back

Will go to shows with you every once in a while, he’s not a big fan of crowded spaces so it’s not his go to date night

Would much rather have you force him to watch cult classics with you instead

Kinda likes all the weird movies you find for the two of you to rent

Will probably slowly start taking inspiration from you and start dressing like a slightly emo man in his 30s, its sexy

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outerbankies · 3 years

Text

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.��

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

#rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #she writes

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Sparkles - Harry Styles

happy new year folks! this is my NYE gift for all of you, hope 2021 will treat you well and see you soon with hopefully a lot of content! thank you for being here with me this year, 2020 was an emotional ride for me, but tumblr remained my happy place. thank you for all the support you showed me and my art this year, cheers to a new one! enjoy this little soon-to-be-dad!harry piece as celebration

word count: 2.5k

masterlist

Harry finishes up the last touch on the virgin mojitos, adorning his work he did with the sugar-coated edge of the glass, feeling quite proud how he nailed it. He softly hums along the music that’s flowing from the record-player as he cleans up after himself, leaving the kitchen spotless, just when he hears his name called out.

“Harry? Can you help me?” Y/N’s voice comes from their shared bedroom and he is quick to drop everything to come to her rescue.

“Coming!”

He shuffles into the room, finding his very pregnant wife sitting on the edge of their bed, her favorite pair of heels at her feet that go well with the loose dress she is wearing. She has ditched wearing anything tight a while ago, feeling way more comfortable in baggy clothes since her bump started showing. He never tried to convince her to wear her usual clothes, he has read enough to know how much she goes through with her body image during pregnancy, so he just always wanted to make sure she feels comfortable over fashionable. Also, she looks breathtakingly beautiful to him regardless of what she is wearing. Or what she is not wearing…

Her eyes lift up to him as he appears in the room, she is leant back on one arm behind her while her other hand is cupping her bump.

“Can you please help me put them on?” she pouts and Harry is on his knees in front of her without a second thought. It’s not the first time she struggles to put her shoes on, but Harry doesn’t mind helping her do such mundane things, if anything, it just makes him feel involved, like he is able to take just a tiny part of the hard side of pregnancy away even if it’s just as small as putting on her shoes or shaving her legs in the parts where she can’t reach anymore.

“You sure you’ll be fine in heels all night, baby?” he asks, carefully sliding her slightly swollen feet into the heels, but they luckily still fit.

“Already packed a change, don’t worry,” she grins, her hand running up and down her stomach as Harry finishes up the task. Smirking up at her he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to her bump, cupping the sides in his palms. Though he can’t wait to finally meet their little baby girl in just three short weeks, he gotta admit he’ll miss the bump.

Over the course of this pregnancy, he has grown to love this state of the woman he is in love with. See her go through the changes, experience new things and grow a new life in her own body, it’s been a privilege to be by her side through the journey and Harry can’t wait to see her do it again whenever the time is going to be right.

Standing up he helps her to her feet, she smoothes out the soft fabric of the dress that reaches just above her knees.

“You look amazing, baby,” he smiles, kissing her lips softly.

“Thank you. What time is it, should we leave?”

“Let’s drink our cocktails and then we can leave,” Harry nods. They move out to the kitchen and she squeals in happiness seeing the mojitos she requested from him earlier.

“These look so nice!” she gasps doing a little happy dance as she takes the one Harry hands her. “Is yours alcohol free too?”

“Of course.”

“You know you can drink, right? I don’t mind it.”

“I know. But I don’t want to,” he smiles down at her, clinking his glass against hers. “Cheers, baby.”

She smiles up at him stealing a quick kiss before they both taste the drink.

“Mm, this is amazing, H,” she nods to herself, gulping from the cocktail again and again.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Yes. Can’t wait to have one with actual alcohol in it,” she smirks making him chuckle. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head before chugging down his own drink.

Not so much later they get in the car and head over to one of their friends’ New Year’s Eve party they’ve been invited to. Harry was hesitant to accept the invitation at first, knowing well she would be close to full term at this point, but she seemed too excited to go out, something she hasn’t done too much lately. Pregnancy has made her way too tired most of the time to even leave the house, her natural habitat became their king sized bed, wearing mostly Harry’s jumpers with just her knickers.

Upon arriving to the party that’s held in a penthouse, Harry keeps a hand on her lower back at all times, making sure she is okay, whether it’s about needing something to drink, to eat or if she decides to change her shoes. That happens quite fast, barely over an hour into the evening Y/N makes her way to one of the plush couches and Harry gladly helps her get rid of the torturous heels and put on her ballerina shoes.

It’s past eleven when he first lets her out of his sight, only so she could go to the bathroom, though he asks if she needs help with that as well.

“I think I’ll manage,” she smiles at him, hand sliding to the back of his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss.

His eyes cautiously follow her disappear down one of the hallways, nursing the same soda he opened an hour ago. He returns his attention to the conversation they were in before her leaving and barely notices that she is taking way too long in the bathroom. When he realizes that she hasn’t returned, he excuses himself from the little group to go and find his wife. Dodging anyone who tries to pull him into another conversation, he makes his way down the hallway he last saw Y/N waddle away. It’s not his first time here, so he knows exactly where to find the bathroom, however, his eyes fall on something that diverts from his destination.

Walking past one of the many bedrooms, he notices an all too familiar pair of slightly swollen feet propped up on the edge of a bed through the door that’s ajar and a smile falls on his lips right away as he pushes it further open. Lying comfortably on top of the king sized bed, there is Y/N resting on her side, the only position she can sleep these days, hugging one of the giant pillows to herself, snoozing adorably.

Harry knew she would get tired way too early, though she was convinced it wouldn’t be a problem, staying up past midnight, yet here she is, sleeping the night away while the party is still buzzing outside. Her shoes are abandoned at the leg of the bed, purse tossed to the nightstand and Harry swears she probably came in to just lie down for a bit because her back was starting to hurt, but eventually fell asleep.

Walking inside he closes the door behind him, the bedside lamp illuminating the room enough for him to navigate to the other side of the bed as he kicks his shoes off. He couldn’t care less about all the people outside, it doesn’t matter that they probably should be out there mingling, right now he just wants to hold his pregnant wife and have a nap with her, regardless of the fact that they might miss midnight.

As soon as he lies down behind her, his arm circles around her, hand coming to rest just above her popped out belly button and though he tried to be as careful as possible, she still wakes up, blinking at him over her shoulder a little groggily.

“Harry? I fell asleep,” she whispers, partially to herself, rather than to him.

“I know baby. It’s alright.”

“M’sorry, I just came in here to have a breather, but I just felt so tired,” she adds, yawning into her words at the end.

“Don’t worry. Wanna stay a little longer or do you wanna go out?”

“How much time do we have until midnight?” she asks, furrowing her eyebrows before her eyes go wide. “Wait, did I sleep through midnight?”

“No, you didn’t,” he chuckles softly, kissing her shoulder. “Want me to set an alarm for us?”

“Please,” she nods, dropping her head back to the pillow. He fishes his phone out of his back pocket, setting an alarm ten minutes before midnight so they have a little over twenty minutes to rest before they have to emerge from their temporary bedroom.

Dropping the phone behind him to the mattress, he places back his palm to her bump, gently caressing it as she leans back against his body, enjoying the warm embrace of him. They both doze off soon, the party outside is long forgotten as they enjoy some alone time, but those twenty minutes go by faster than they wanted it to and they are shaken up from their shallow sleep by the sound of his phone’s alert.

“Ah fuck,” he slurs, blindly tapping around the mattress behind him until his hand finally finds the phone and he turns it off.

“Why am I so tired?” she breathes out rolling to her back, staring up at the ceiling with sleepy eyes. Harry’s eyes wander down on her body and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips seeing her bump towering high. He is still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that there’s a tiny baby girl in there, his baby girl.

“Because you are growing our baby. That needs a lot of energy,” he mumbles kissing her tummy softly, running his hand up and down on it.

“Do you think she’ll look more like you or me?” she asks excitedly, tangling her graceful fingers through his hair as he presses his cheek gently against the side of her bump.

“I hope she’ll take more after you,” he smiles at her.

“Really?”

“Of course. But like, with a hint of me,” he adds, making her chuckle.

“I want her to have your eyes. I love them,” she muses and reaching out she runs a finger delicately through his left eyebrow, bringing it down the side of his face until it reaches his lips. He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the pad of her finger, tugging her smile wider with the softness of his actions.

They hear the buzzing increase outside, so they figure the countdown is close. Though the both know they should be heading out to be with the rest of the guests, neither of them moves.

“I’m a little afraid though,” she whispers as the smile falls from her lips.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’ll be weird that it won’t be just the two of us anymore.”

“Do you… regret…?” he implies hesitantly, a little afraid of her answer even though he knows it.

“Of course not,” she breathes out with a soft smile. “I wanted this. We both wanted, right?” Harry nods at her question. “I just… I’m a little afraid we will lose… us. You know what I mean?”

“I think I do,” he nods again, pushing himself up before he scoots closer, caging her between his arms on the bed as he holds himself up above her. “And I promise you I will never stop working on us. I’ll try my best to keep these sparkles alive for as long as we live.”

“So you still feel the sparkles?” she asks with a shy smile, hands sliding to the back of his neck as she starts playing with his curls.

“Of course I do,” he smirks.

“Even after spending five years with me, you still haven’t gotten bored of me?”

“I could never,” he chuckles shaking his head dramatically, making his curls brush against her forehead.

“Yeah?” she giggles. “Not even when I’m making you watch Big Hero 6 for the millionth time?”

“Not even then,” he assures her. He could never say no to her pouty look whenever she is trying to make him watch it again, because it’s her favorite Disney movie of all times. If anything, he cherishes the moments when she is all cuddled up to his side and quotes the lines perfectly, eyes shining so brightly. He would do anything to make her happy.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!” The countdown begins outside, yet they still don’t move. Staring at each other, they preserve this precious moment, one of the last ones where they are on their own. Her hands go to cup his cheeks, her thumb running along the soft skin under his eyes.

“I love you. So much,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a short moment to enjoy her soft touch.

“Seven! Six! Five! Four!”

“I love you too,” she whispers, getting lost in his eyes once they lock on hers again.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, my love. I can’t wait to see what this year brings for us.”

“Happy New Year, baby,” she smiles, pulling him down for a sweet and appreciative kiss, the first one of the year.

They drag the moment a little longer, enjoying the sparkles that are still clearly there, before they pull back, grinning at each other like crazy.

“We should head back, don’t we?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Can we leave soon though? I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”

“Of course,” he chuckles pecking her lips one last time before he scoots to the edge of the bed to get off of it.

“Harry?” she calls out and when his eyes return to her frame, she is still lying in the same position.

“Love, we really shouldn’t stay any longer in here,” he huffs, eyes soft on her, but she shakes her head.

“It’s not that. I think… I think I need some help getting up,” she admits chuckling.

“Oh right,” he mumbles shuffling over to her side to grab her hands and gently pull her up until she sits on the edge of the bed. He kneels down without a second thought, putting on her shoes, making her smile. “There,” he breathes out, helping her to her feet. She circles her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible with her bump.

“You are going to be such an amazing dad, Harry,” she breathes out kissing him delicately.

“I hope so,” he chuckles nervously, his hands squeezing her hips gently. “Come on, let’s schmooze a little longer so we can go home and sleep.”

“That’s the best thing you said tonight,” she sighs dramatically, making his eyes go wide.

“Oh really? That was the best?”

“Just kidding!” she chuckles pinching his cheek before adding in a mumble: “Kinda.”

“You’re lucky you are pregnant, I wouldn't let this slide otherwise,” he shakes his head, taking her hand as they head towards the door.

“Oh, but you love me too much to get mad at me, right?”

Smirking he opens the door and holds it open for her.

“I do love you a lot.”

Thank you for reading! Like/reblog if you liked it and leave a feedback!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x pregnant!reader #dad!harry #harry styles au

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 5) - Date Night

Summary: The reader and Jensen go on their first fancy date together before attending a nanny happy hour the next night. The reader makes a new friend there to Jensen’s dismay but someone from the past will come along and change things between the new couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, lying, angst, mention of past child abuse/assault, fluff

A/N: This a rough one, not gonna lie. Enjoy!

________

Friday Night

“Y/N, I’m downstairs when you’re ready,” said Jensen through your closed bedroom door.

“I’ll be there in five,” you said.

“See you in fifteen,” he chuckled before he walked away. You walked back into your bathroom, looking over your hair in a bun. It looked like a freaking messy bun actually. You should have done it down and in big flowy waves instead. You pouted and smoothed out your dress. Of course you were bloated and you’d nicked your leg more than once shaving earlier.

“It’s Jensen,” you said to yourself, taking a deep breath. “He’s never even seen you in makeup before. You’re fine. He’s not gonna say anything.”

You forced yourself out of the bathroom and slipped on your heels, your clutch in your hand. You wobbled for a step or two on the carpet but did better once you were out in the hardwood hall. Ten seconds later you were downstairs, heading over to the foyer area.

“All set?” you asked, Jensen spinning around. He smiled as he stared, eyes looking you up and down more than once, not even trying to hide it.

“Y/N, you look pretty,” said Arrow as she rushed in from the family room.

“Yes she does,” said Jensen. “We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, wandering off with a little wave.

Half an hour later you were sat at a table in a very nice restaurant, Jensen tugging on his collar. His cheeks were slightly pink but it wasn’t from the cold outside.

“So...what’s a good wine?” you asked, sliding the drink list over to him. “I’m not really good with the names.”

“You like red or white?” he asked.

“Normally red,” you said. “You?”

“I like a Merlot,” he said. “You like dry?”

“Sure,” you said.

“We’re not going dutch tonight you know right. This is all on me.”

“We can go dutch, Jensen.”

“I asked you out and this is fancy, even for me. My treat, okay?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said, looking around the restaurant and over in the distance to the bar. “You know I could go for a lemon drop actually.”

He smirked and set the list down, a waiter coming by. He ordered a gin and tonic for himself while you got your cocktail, Jensen breaking off part of a breadstick from the basket.

“Bread’s good,” he said with his mouth full.

“So. Ackles,” you said, picking up a piece and tearing off a chunk with your teeth. He stared and started to laugh to himself. “Ah, there’s my sweet guy.”

“Thought you were gonna say boyfriend for a second.”

“This is our second official date,” you said. “So. Boyfriend.”

“Yes girlfriend?” he chuckled.

“What’s an appetizer look like in a place like this? Like a tiny cube of cheese with some dressing they’re gonna charge twenty bucks for or something like that?”

“You’re goofy,” he said, a big smile stuck on his face. “Uh, they probably have something like that. There’s normally some kind of bread olive oil bowl option.”

“Fancy people eat like a starving college student apparently,” you said. He tried to hide his laugh as your waiter brought over the drinks and a pair of menus. “Excuse me but can you recommend an appetizer? We’re both new to town and are wondering what you think is a good choice.”

“You can’t go wrong with our sourdough and seasoned oil dipping sauce,” he said. You glanced at Jensen and smiled. “The artichoke spinach dip and tartar crackers are also quite lovely.”

“Do you have anything with a little more substance? We’re quite starving,” said Jensen.

“The fried calamari and crab cake poppers combo is a great option,” he said.

“What’s calamari?” you asked.

“Squid, miss,” said the waiter.

“We’ll have that combo,” said Jensen.

“Perfect. I’ll put that in and be back shortly to get your dinner orders,” he said. He took off and you made a face at Jensen.

“Squid?” you asked.

“It’s fried. Trust me, it’s pretty good,” he said. “I could go for a good steak. You see a filet on here yet?”

“Uh,” you said, eyes scanning the page and seeing most everything was something you’d never heard of.

“There it is,�� he said. “I’m getting that and scalloped potatoes. See anything you want to try?”

“Uh, why does half of this seem like it’s a foreign language to me?” you asked. Jensen looked at his menu and chuckled.

“That would be because it’s in French. We’re in Canada and this is a french restaurant.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. He got up and leaned over the back of your chair, glancing at the page.

“These are soups and salads,” he said, pointing near the top. “Sandwiches. Pasta. Main dishes down here.”

“Uh, maybe pasta?” you said. He knelt down and read off the dishes to you one by one, your waiter returning by the time he was just finishing.

“Anything I can assist you with?” he asked.

“I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo with chicken please,” you said, handing the menu to him, Jensen returning to his seat.

“Face principale?” he asked. You stared at Jensen and he smiled.

“She doesn’t speak French,” said Jensen.

“My apologies miss. What would you like for your main side dish?” asked the waiter. “Steamed vegetables, scalloped potatoes, lobster bisque-”

“I’ll have the vegetables,” you said. Jensen ordered and the waiter went to get your appetizer, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think twice about the French thing.”

“Kinda hot that you know French,” you said. “I should try to learn it if we’re gonna be up here for a few months.”

“I’m an idiot and I learned it so you’ll do just fine picking it up,” he said.

“So where’d you learn in the first place?”

“I’m stuffed,” you said, plopping your napkin from your lap onto the table awhile later. Jensen took the last bite of the piece of mouse pie, licking his lips as he finished. “This might have been the best alfredo I’ve ever had.”

“I enjoyed it. Mostly I enjoyed listening to you talk,” he said. You blushed and looked away, Jensen letting out a small hum. “It’s funny. Doesn’t really feel like just a second date, does it.”

“No, not really,” you said. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re friends first.”

“Well I definitely like being friends with you,” he said.

“Me too, Jensen.”

“Want to get out of here?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, the two of you outside a few minutes later wrapped up in your coats. Your feet were cold in just your heels, Jensen’s arm wrapping around your waist when you almost slipped more than once. It was slow going back to the car, especially when it started to snow lightly.

“You know, that dress would still look hot with winter boots,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you said.

“No apology necessary. I got freaking dress shoes on and my feet are cold. I can’t imagine how you’re holding up,” he said.

“The perils of being a woman,” you said.

“Well, no need to impress me is all I’m saying. I ain’t looking at your feet anyways,” he said.

“Oh well in that case I’ll wear some nice baggy sweats next date.”

“Please do,” he said.

“You really don’t care, do you.”

“I think you look beautiful tonight. But I think you look beautiful every night. You did your hair and makeup and this is stunning, don’t get me wrong. But she’s not more beautiful than the girl at home with hair tossed up all messy walking around in oversized shirts and leggings. It’s like flowers. Both are pretty but one isn’t more pretty than the other.”

“Where the fuck did I find you?”

“At my house,” he chuckled. You whacked his arm and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Almost back to the car. I’ll blast the heat for us when we’re in there.”

“Thanks Jensen.”

“Thank you for the date, honey. I mean it. We’ll do it again sometime. Promise.”

Saturday Night

“Your boyfriend seems pissed,” said Brandon. You sipped up the last of your beer, glancing over to the bar where Jensen was tapping his finger.

“He’s fine,” you said. “So any good parks around the west side of town?”

“Center Grove is always my choice. Good playground, nice area, cops routinely are around. Parking can kinda be a bitch sometimes but it’s worth it in my opinion. My kids love it.”

“You’ve been their nanny for five years you said?”

“Mhm,” he said, knocking back the last of his drink. “Shawn’s mom is their mom’s best friend.”

“Oh. So you had an in already.”

“You know long term gigs are the way to go in this job,” he said. “Not too many American girls come up here. Your accent is cute.”

“Is it, eh?” you chuckled.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” he said, Jensen walking back with two beers and a clenched jaw.

“You okay?” you asked as he sat it down in front of you.

“I’m fine,” he said, taking a long sip. Brandon slid off his seat and made a face.

“I need a refill anyways. Nice meeting you Y/N. We gotta hang some time,” he said as he walked away.

“For sure,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes behind his back. “Jensen what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Well you obviously have a problem with Brandon.”

“I don’t have a problem with him. I have a problem with my girlfriend flirting with another guy.”

“I was not flirting. I’m trying to make new friends. It was your idea to come to this thing tonight anyways.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’m not the kind of guy where I’m okay with you dating multiple people at once. I don’t get that not exclusive shit.”

“I’m with you and only you. I was being nice. Geez, let’s just go,” you said. You got up and pulled your coat on, bumping into a guy on the way out. He turned and apologized, staring at you a little long.

“Y/N?” he asked, a big smile on his face. “My Y/N?”

“Dad?” you said, his face much older looking than you remembered but his eyes still the same.

“Dad?” said Jensen. You brushed past your dad and outside, Jensen hot on your heels.

“Y/N,” your dad said as he left the bar.

“Stay away from me,” you said. “Jensen I want to go home right now.”

“What-”

“Right fucking now!”

He held up his hands and you walked around the block to the car, getting inside and Jensen taking off.

“So your dad’s alive huh,” he said. You stared out the dark window with crossed arms. “So is everything I know about you bullshit?”

“What?”

“Is literally anything you’ve ever told me true? Your dad obviously didn’t die when you were a kid. All those late night talks about family and shit, you just like to fuck with people or something?”

“I was not flirting with Brandon you asshole. You didn’t need to know my whole life story the second I meet you.”

“Oh. Okay. Just your fake life story then, huh?” he said. You shook your head as he got stuck at a red light. “If I can’t trust you, I can’t employ you let alone date you.”

“Whatever,” you said. He drove in silence until you were out of the city, going along quieter roads. You were close to the house when he suddenly turned right towards the local park and stopped in the lot, putting the car in park. He touched your arm and you turned, Jensen leaning over and kissing you roughly, far more roughly than you thought he was capable of. You blinked when he pulled back, Jensen looking you up and down.

“He won’t hurt you.”

“What?”

“Did he walk out on you and your mom?” he asked. “You told him to stay away from you. Sort of shouted it at him. Maybe you lied but maybe...I’m sorry I got jealous of Brandon. I’m still scared and I think you’re still scared too and that’s okay. If you lied about your dad, I’m gonna trust you have a good reason for it. I’m sorry for what I said. I trust you and I don’t want to know what my life is like without you in it.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said. “We can just go home, okay?”

“Why’d you pull over?”

“Because I knew I didn’t mean it and I knew I overreacted. I said I’d mess up when we started. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m 42 with three kids. Brandon is thirty and young and stronger than I am and can go out to the bar whenever he wants. You have options. You don’t have to settle for me.”

“If I’d wanted to settle, I’d have married my ex. What I wanted was the guy that forgives me for not telling him the whole story cause I’m not ready to say it. I want the guy that makes me happy and feel like I have a teenage crush but it’s deeper than that. You’re not the settle for option, Jensen. Why don’t you get that?”

“The last time I felt like this, I married the girl,” he said quietly. “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“You didn’t get the time you deserved with her. It doesn’t mean it ended badly. You loved her and she knew it. She wants you to be happy again, whether it’s me or somebody else.”

“See? That’s the shit that tells me...it tells me to keep falling for you. I’m so sorry for how I acted tonight.”

“I lied about my dad and not a little white one either,” you said with a nod. You turned away and felt his hand on your cheek. “So much of what I told you was a lie.”

“You don’t have to tell me the truth right now, Y/N.” He stroked your cheek and you glanced over, meeting his soft green eyes.

“My mom died giving birth to me,” you said, Jensen nodding. “He hated me for it. Hated me. He would hurt me when I was a toddler. When I was four he started doing...other things.”

“Four?” he breathed out.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. Not until I started school. I was scared though so I never said anything. One of my friends mom’s realized what was going on when I was over playing one day. He went away and lost custody. I went into foster care briefly and got adopted when I was eight. Single mom who’d lost her husband young. That’s my mom. She was a kind person. Ray was always good to her and to me. But I asked him not to adopt me after she was gone and he knew it was because I was still scared of a dad again. Being a nanny, I’ve met fathers that look at me and I just know what was going through their head. I reported him and kinda fucked up their family situation but-”

“That was the right thing to do,” he said.

“I know it was. I’ve just...I’ve had more than one guy and even a woman walk in on me changing or into my bathroom and it’s like, she’s just the help, nobody cares. They don’t touch so it’s like...what can I even do? Then my house before this one, the guy tried getting in my shower with me and I shoved him and he broke his arm and I just don’t understand why so many people think I’m just a piece of meat. Even my ex never got why it bothered me so much. They didn’t touch me so what was wrong with it? He just didn’t get it. He would get mad if I wasn’t in the mood for sex. Nobody ever fucking gets it except you who I lied to and pissed off tonight and without a word of an explanation why, you say you won’t let somebody hurt me. Do you get why you’re the opposite of fucking settling Jensen?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t Jensen.”

“How?”

“Because you’re a good person. You’re so gentle and kind. I know you’re strong and tough but I see it everyday. You should never be worried about how your kids will turn out. If they are half as good as you are they’ll be fucking great people. Your daughters aren’t gonna put up with shit and your son is gonna be kind to everyone and say fuck you to the toxic guys out there. I can already tell the kind of person you are through them and it’s a good one. A really good one.”

“I’m not the only good person in their lives,” he said. You sniffled and looked down, Jensen’s hand sliding under your chin and tilting it up. “You don’t have to apologize for not telling me all of that. Never apologize for not telling me that. Okay?”

“I never told anyone about…the other stuff,” you said, wanting to look down but Jensen’s hand holding your chin up.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry it took you so long to find people that would protect you.”

“You mean…” He nodded and dropped his hand away, running it over your head. “You’re not gonna like, go back and kick his ass are you?”

“Want me to? I’m very tempted at the moment,” he said.

“I just want to go home. I could use one of those hugs right now.”

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? Just to stay, nothing more.” You nodded and he kissed your forehead, a tiny smile crossing your face. Ten minutes later you were home and the babysitter was gone, Jensen pulling you into his room next to yours. You blew your nose in his bathroom and washed off your face, lifting your head to find a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his shirts on the vanity beside you. He smiled as he ducked out, leaving you to change. You let your hair down and took off your bra before you walked out and saw his blanket on the opposite side of the bed. “Warm enough?”

You spun around as he walked inside and you nodded, Jensen pulling you into a hug.

“I’m sorry for how I was at the bar,” you said.

“I was the one that overreacted, not you,” he said. You felt goosebumps on your arms and he pulled away to turn up the heat, nodding over to the bed. The covers were flung back and you climbed underneath, Jensen getting in on his side. His arm wrapped over your waist and pulled your chest close to his, face only inches away. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. No one will hurt you again. I promise.”

You moved closer to him, resting your forehead against his.

“Remember last Saturday when we were on the trampoline and you talked about those safety nets,” you said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re a really good net,” you said softly.

“So are you,” he murmured. He kissed the tip of your nose and you shut your eyes. “What’d you want to be when you were little?”

“A princess,” you said. He chuckled and you smiled. “I wanted a prince to come take me away and everything would be just fine.”

“Really?”

“Princesses were always happy at the end of the movie,” you said. “They got the boy and they were happy. Then I grew up and prince charming doesn’t exist.”

“Cause you’re not a damsel in distress. You didn’t need the prince to save you.”

“But the prince would have made life so much easier.”

“I’m partial to badass princesses myself,” he said. You opened your eyes and he was smiling.

“I’ve never noticed your freckles before.”

“They come out more when I spend some time in the sun.” You moved a hand up and traced under his eye, Jensen nuzzling into his pillow. “Make you a deal. If the badass princess saves me, the scared prince will save her too.”

“Okay,” you said. You kissed him lazily, Jensen smiling through it.

“Do you want to be a nanny forever?”

“Not forever. It’s an easy way to feel like you have a family when you don’t.”

“Now you do,” he said.

“Jensen you don’t know if this will work out.”

“I do and you do and we’ll take it slow anyways,” he said. “Which is why I’m asking do you want to be a nanny forever.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe someday I won’t need one,” he said.

“I thought about being an elementary school teacher when I was eighteen for a hot second.”

“You did? You’d be amazing.”

“Pay in Texas is crap though. I make more as a nanny.”

“If money wasn’t an issue though, would you want to be a teacher still?”

“Anything at all?” you asked, Jensen nodding, nose brushed against yours. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“You okay?” he asked, reluctantly letting you out of bed.

“I’m good. I want to show you something,” you said. You slipped out of the room and down the hall to the playroom, picking up a book. Jensen was sat up in bed when you returned and crawled under the covers. You handed him the book and he smiled.

“I don’t remember buying this,” he said, flipping it over. “There’s no serial code on it.”

“You can’t buy it. I wrote a children’s book and printed a few copies for myself,” you said.

“You wrote a book?” he asked, flipping through it. “Did you draw this?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen staring at you. “I don’t know if it’s any good. I never tried publishing it.”

“You want to write children’s books, don’t you?” he said, starting to read the story.

“I have a number of them written out. I would make up the stories for kids at bedtime and decided to write them down. It’s kinda like whinnie the poo, that age group, you know? Same group of characters but different stories,” you said.

“These are adorable,” he said, turning another page. You were quiet while he read through for a few minutes, Jensen smiling when he shut the book. “I’ve never read a children’s book where they deal with the loss of a parent.”

“The kids really like it,” you said.

“You should publish this. Seriously. It’s cute and I’m a grown ass man and it made me feel better about Dee.”

“It’s just a story,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I make stories for a living. This whole place would fall apart without stories. This is good. You should consider trying to get it published.”

“Maybe if that nanny job doesn’t work out I will,” you said.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” he asked.

“Not at all. I gave it to JJ in the first place.”

“Thanks. I want to read this to the twins tomorrow,” he said. He set it on the nightstand and slid back down, pulling you with him. “Why’d the mom fox die in the story? I would have expected the dad wolf considering…”

“Wish fulfillment for a nice father,” you said. “Plus I like drawing the wolf.”

“I like him. He’s fluffy,” chuckled Jensen. “Is that why you asked if I carry a picture of my kids when we met?”

“I’m done with asshole parents. If they treat their kids like shit they sure as hell aren’t gonna treat me any better. You seemed like a good guy. Good guys tend to do that kind of thing.”

“I’m not always good.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said. You shut your eyes and nuzzled close to him, Jensen letting out a soft hum. “You okay? With me being here.”

“Very. Feeling better after everything that happened?”

“Mhm,” you said. “I’m still sorry I lied to you.”

“Did you ever lie about your mom?” he asked. “I mean aside from the fact she adopted you, did you lie about her?”

“No.”

“Then you didn’t lie, not really. I’m sorry it came out like that. You should have been able to tell me in your own time.”

“You still would have been angry,” you said.

“I still would have come to my senses too. I’m not perfect. I never was.”

“I don’t want someone perfect,” you said. Your head rested against his chest and you let out a soft sigh.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and tucked it under his chin, adjusting the blankets once before he stilled.

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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