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athena-athena · 6 years ago

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We Can’t Do That Here (Yondu x Reader)

A/N: This story came about because I dropped sour cream on my sweater during lunch one day. A discussion ensued with @rooker-character-fics, and I decided to write this. Although I changed it from sour cream to oil in the fic. XD

Tagged List: @celticheart72 @animeaniseed @misfitgirlwrites (As always, if you wanted to be added or removed to/from my tagged list, just let me know! I promise you won’t hurt my feelings if you want to be removed. 😊)

Warnings: Just some smut.

You can also find this on AO3, along with the rest of my fics.

"Pass me the wrench, will ya?" You picked it up and handed it to Yondu. "Here ya go." "Thanks, Y/N." "What do you think is wrong with it?" "Dunno fer sure. Might be tha motor." "Can you fix it?" "'Course I can." He rolled out from under the M-ship to give you a wink, then rolled back to continue what he was doing.

That wink was enough to send your senses into a whirlwind. You'd joined Yondu's crew three months earlier, and spent most of that time in "on-the-job training" with the other Ravagers. It was only in the last couple of weeks that Yondu had taken more of an interest in your training. You'd admired him from afar, but spending so much time with him lately had definitely made your feelings stronger. And though there had been a couple of times when you'd thought there was a mutual sexual tension, Yondu never made a move, and you were afraid you'd just imagined it. "Lookit this, Y/N. See how that piece right there looks burned?" You leaned closer to him so you could see where he was pointing. "Yeah." "That's our problem. We're gonna hafta replace it. Here, slide on under here. I'll let ya handle it." "Oh, okay. Sure." You hoped your face wasn't red as you laid down and slid next to him under the M-ship. Your first thought was that it was awfully hot under the M-ship, but realized that probably had more to do with the proximity of the Centaurian next to you, and less to do with the temperature of the room itself. "Here ya go. Let's see what'cha can do." You took the wrench from him and studied the mess of parts above your head. "Wha’dya gotta do first?" You thought for a moment, then replied, "I need to remove the screws on this panel..." "Right! Go ‘head an' take ‘em out." You placed the wrench aside and picked up a screwdriver. Removing the eight small screws, you handed them to Yondu, then removed the panel. "What's next?" "I need to disconnect the hose so I can get the motor out." "Yep." Feeling slightly more confident, you pulled the hose loose, only to be rewarded by a stream of oil. Sputtering, you slid out from under the M-ship, Yondu right behind you. "Aw, hell. Them morons told me they'd already drained the oil." He pulled a small towel from his pocket and handed it to you. You started to wipe the oil off your face as Yondu stood up and ordered, "Go ‘head an' get that shirt off so's we can get ya cleaned up. Gotta get that oil outta yer leathers perty fast or it'll never come out." You felt your face flame and your eyes grow wide. He turned to grab a bucket to catch the oil that was still pouring out, then turned back to see you still standing there. "C'mon, get that off now." You weren't sure if he'd forgotten you were a woman and not just another member of the crew, or if he just didn't care. Of course, considering you were currently covered in oil from the ship, you probably looked like any other member of the crew. "I ain't gonna tell ya again. If that oil sets in them leathers, you'll hafta get more, an' that's gonna come outta yer wages." "Oh… okay. Could you at least… turn around?" "What? Why?" He gave you a confused look, then suddenly said, "Oh… yeah. Sorry." He turned away from you, and you pulled off your shirt, feeling utterly exposed standing there in your bra. "Okay..." He turned around and took the shirt from you as you crossed your arms over your chest. He laid it out on an empty table, then sprinkled it with talcum powder. "That'll pull tha oil out, an' then ya can clean it." You nodded. Standing in front of him, half-naked, as the memory of him ordering you to take off your shirt replayed on loop in your head, it was all you could do not to faint on the spot. He grabbed a clean washcloth from a box beside the table and gestured to your chest. "Need ta get that oil off ya." You glanced down and realized that the oil had indeed gotten inside your shirt, and was now dripping down your chest. You were afraid your bra was beyond saving. "Oh, right." You held out a hand for the washcloth, but Yondu said, "Lemme help ya." You met his eyes at those words, and you were pretty sure he'd remembered you were a woman. You were also pretty sure you weren't the only one feeling the sexual tension now. He guided you to stand next to the sink as he ran water over the washcloth. "Might be kinda cold. Takes a while fer it ta warm up, ya know." "It's okay." It was probably for the best anyway – the cold water might cool you off and bring you back to your senses. You held your breath as he began to gently remove the oil from your body, starting with the mostly-innocent area of your shoulders. As he moved his hand lower, down your arms, you let out a shaky breath. He met your eyes and smirked. "Ya okay?" "Yep." You tried for an unconcerned attitude, but you knew he saw right through it. He rinsed the washcloth, then started to slowly wipe the oil from your chest. "Reckon yer bra's ruined." "Yeah, I think you're right. And I loved this one, too!" You looked down at your poor bra in consternation. He ran a finger under the strap, as he said, "Ya probably need ta take it off." Your eyes lifted to meet his as a shiver ran through your body. "What?" "We won't ever get all tha oil off if half of ya's covered with yer bra." "Oh… is that the only reason?" "Nah." He flashed you a crooked grin, and you couldn't help returning it. "I don't think I should be the only one half-naked, though." "That right?" "Mmhmm." "A'right then." He handed you the washcloth and removed his duster and shirt. "That better?" "Much better." "Yer turn." His grin grew wider as you passed the washcloth back to him. "A deal's a deal." "Okay." You felt a little self-conscious, but the lust in his eyes was obvious as you slowly removed your bra and dropped it to the ground. "Do you normally help crew members get cleaned up?" "Nope. I mighta had an ulterior motive fer wantin' ta help ya." "Is that right?" "Yep." He stepped closer to you and ran one of his hands up your arm as the other snaked around your waist. "Yer skin's so smooth." Blushing, you replied, "Thanks..." "I wanna see if tha rest a ya's this smooth." "I'm… I'm pretty sure it is." "Need ta see fer myself." He winked at you, as he began to unbutton your pants. You put your hand on his to stop him, and he looked at you, concern in his eyes. "What's wrong?" "We can't do this in here!" "Why not?" "Anyone could walk in!" "Ain't nobody comin' in here. If they come in here, it means they gotta work, an' ain't none of ‘em gonna do any work unless they's ordered to, the lazy excuses fer Ravagers." "Are you sure?" "Positive. C'mere." He pulled you back to him, and returned his hands to the button of your pants, giving you a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded, causing him to softly growl, as he unbuttoned your pants and slid his hand inside. "Oh, damn," you whispered. "Ya like that, huh?" "Yes..." You were already breathless, and he chuckled. "'S gonna get better." He kissed you, slowly at first, then growing more insistent. As he deepened the kiss, you found the buckle of his belt and started to remove it. He removed his hands from your skin to help you unbutton his pants, then broke the kiss to remove his boots and pants. "Hang on a second..." He pulled a clean mat off a shelf and tossed it on the floor, as you removed your own boots. You couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped you. "Are we really going to do this… here?" "Yep." He sat down on the mat, then pulled you down next to him. "An' ya don't need these," he added, pulling your pants off. He kissed you again, as he lowered you down to lie back on the mat, then murmured, "Or these." Pulling off your panties, he tossed him over his shoulder and lowered himself on top of you. As he kissed your neck, you grabbed the waistband of his underwear, and whispered, "You don't need yours, either." He nipped your neck gently, and you whimpered, as he pulled his underwear off. __ Several minutes later – or it could have been several days, you weren't sure – Yondu finally spoke. "We need ta get yer shirt cleaned soon." "Mmhmm." He leaned up on his elbow and grinned at you. "How're ya feelin'?" "Amazing." He chuckled, and replied, "Glad ta hear it." "What about you?" "Never been better." "Good." You smiled at him, and he leaned down to kiss you. As he broke the kiss, you said, "I guess we should try to finish fixing the M-ship." "Nah, I'm gonna get some a tha crew ta do it. We got more important things ta do." "Oh? Like what?" "I'm gonna take ya ta my quarters, an' we're gonna have a lil' more fun." He flashed you his crooked grin, and you shivered in anticipation. "What about my shirt?" "Ya ain't gonna need it." "I'll need something to get to your quarters. We can't just walk there without wearing any clothes." "Well, we could." He winked, and you laughed. "Well, you can if you want, but I'd rather not." "Yeah, I'd rather ya didn't, too. Don't want nobody but me seein' ya like this." "You don't have to worry about that." "Good." He helped you stand, then said, "I'm gonna get somebody ta clean yer shirt, too. Ya can wear mine ‘til we get ta my quarters." "What are you going to wear?" "Nothin'." You laughed. "You're going to just walk completely naked all the way to your quarters?" "Well, maybe I'll wear my pants." "Probably a good idea. Your crew might think their Captain has lost it if they see you walking around without any clothes." "Or they'll just think a beautiful woman has gone ta my head." You flushed at his words. "Well, it's still probably best if you at least wear your pants in the corridors." "Yer probably right." He picked up his pants, and pulled them on, as you started collecting your scattered clothes.

You put on your pants as Yondu picked up his shirt and draped it around you. You slid your arms into the sleeves, and he helped you button it up. You both pulled on your boots, then Yondu picked up his communicator, pressed a button, and said, "Kraglin! Need ya to finish fixin' that M-ship in the maintenance bay. Get somebody ta help ya." "Aye, Cap'n." "Oh, an' I need ya to clean Y/N's shirt. ‘S'got oil all over it." "Oh… okay, Cap'n. No problem." "An' make sure nobody bothers me in my quarters tonight. Yer in charge." Kraglin's voice sounded a bit stronger as he replied, "I'll handle it, Cap'n." Yondu disconnected the call, wrapped his arms around your waist, and murmured in your ear, "Let's get outta here before Kraglin an' tha others get here. I don't know how much longer I can wait ta get ya undressed again." You moaned softly as he kissed your neck, then grabbed his hand and started pulling him along as you walked backward in the direction of the door. "I can't wait much longer, either." He grinned at you, and said, "I hope ya ain't got no plans tonight." "Oh, I do, but they all involve you." Flashing you a wicked grin, he picked you up, and said, "Then what're we waitin' fer?"

#yondu #yondu udonta #yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #yondu fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg #gotg fanfiction #gotg2

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dilfeon · 5 years ago

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How to Prevent Ingrown Hairs After Epilation Guide 2020

Types of epilation include waxing, and lasering. Every sort of epilation includes a danger of creating ingrown hairs. These may become painful and infected, making a much larger issue than the unwanted hair. [1] you'll be able to stop ingrown hairs after epilation by prepping skin, using appropriate methods, and taking care of your skin after the treatment.

Clean your skin or have a bath with warm water. Use a gentle soap to prevent irritation. This may minimize the probability of bacteria getting into pores and causing a disease.

Exfoliate skin. Stem cells can develop in your skin and prevent the hair follicles.

Use a gentle exfoliating product in the bathtub or shower to eliminate dead cells. This may lessen your chance of creating ingrown hairs. Measure to a steam room or choose a hot shower. This softens hair, which makes it much easier to eliminate. Steam skin for part of your pre-epilation exfoliation and cleansing routine. Rinse or wash off your epilator before you begin.

This can get rid of any bacteria or even lingering hairs onto your apparatus. Additionally, it may help prevent ingrown hairs. Tweezers may be washed weekly with alcohol. Based on which sort of epilator which you have, consult the product's directions. These may advise how to find optimum outcomes and minimize the chance of ingrown hairs. By way of instance, some epilators may necessitate working from the direction of hair growth, but some imply working .

Tweezers probably won't arrive with directions. Grip the hair you want to eliminate at the pointed end of the tweezers, and tug lightly in the direction of the hair growth. Scrub the tweezers off using a clean cloth to remove the hairs, if needed. Be gentle if utilizing your epilator.

Using an excessive amount of pressure may make it even more challenging to remove the hair out of its own follicles. Gently press on the epilator so it slips easily over your skin. Hold the place you are exfoliating with as little stress as possible. Pulling skin tight can grab hairs beneath the surface of the skin.

This can raise your chance of developing an ingrown hairloss.

If you're utilizing an epilation apparatus, follow the product packaging directions about whether you need to pull your skin. Wipe or wash your skin off when you are finished. This may clear away stubborn hair and bacteria. In addition, it can minimize the probability of creating ingrown hairs. Exfoliation and epilation may dry your skin out. After burning your skin, then use a non-comedogenic moisturizer. This may soothe freshly epilated skin and maintain dry skin from clogging your pores and hair follicles.

Moisturize two times a day to alleviate any discoloration or inflammation out of epilation.

Some waxing kits might incorporate an antiseptic lotion, which soothes, moisturizes, and protects your skin from possible infections. Return to a skin care regimen after epilation. Pick skincare products which are mild in addition to alcohol- as well as non-meat. They should also help moisturize skin. This will make certain you don't irritate skin that's fragile from epilation. Avoid wearing tight clothes for a couple of days once you epilate. Tight clothes put stress on skin. This can prevent hairs from growing properly and raises the chance of these being pushed back beneath the skin. Nobody would really like to put up with ingrown hairs since they're amazingly disturbing and they look poor.

Eliminating an ingrown hair isn't quite as simple as it may sound.

You shouldn't ever scratch or pick an ingrown hair to begin with a reduction. This behaviour can create the hair follicle too to scar subsequently and also to discover contaminated, so worsen the issue. The very first thing you should do is stop shaving, waxing and tweezing the region around the hair and let it be.

Nearly all the moment, ingrown hairs find their own way out and go out by themselves. This can take from 1 month to six months. However, if the ingrown hairs are giving you a Great Deal of trouble, Should They are causing pain or seem too nasty and make you feel self-conscious, then you can help them a little to heal;

First of all, check whether the inside of the bulge appears white and is filled with pus. When it's so, then it generally means that the region was infected. The disease may be accompanied by inflammation and redness. So as to be able to get rid of the ingrown hair, the disease ought to be treated by you personally. Use some steroids in the contaminated region to decrease the swelling and cure the disease. Consequently, together with eliminating the horrible and debilitating disease, you'll also have the capacity to observe that the ingrown hair.

To be able to wash out the region and also to bring the swelling down, then it's possible to also use a dab of over the counter acne medicine. The area wills dry up and reduce the redness. Apply a hot compress on the Region. The warmth and the moisture out of the compress will soften and relax skin and allow the ingrown hair to arrive at the surface.

Then, exfoliate the area to eliminate the dead skin cells that have accumulated and blocked the path of the hair. It is possible to achieve it by making use of a finger mitten that a washcloth or a soft-bristled toothbrush. An exfoliating scrub or a loofah may also do just fine. Move it on the region in circular motions which are slow and soft. Keep doing so for a number of minutes. Attempt not to be overly unpleasant when exfoliating. If you are just too unpleasant, you may further harm the skin over the hair and create considerably more skin to shape with it.

You're in a position to find a dermatologist request them to prescribe retinoids for you. Retinoids help to clean dead skin cells away plus they also help wash dark stains shaped due to ingrown hairs. Assess whether you are capable of seeing the loop made by the ingrown hair which has curled back into your own skin. Otherwise, leave it alone for a little longer till it gets to a own skin's surface also finds its way upward. Prepare to act if it's possible to observe the loop.

Try to pass the needle during the curl you may end up drawing blood or don't dig too thick.

Once the suggestion of the ingrown hair is loose, then grab it with the tweezers and gently pull it out. Even though you can buy lotions and these to take care of your ingrown hairs, you might even attempt some at-home remedies to eliminate them.

Essential oils are full of anti-fungal properties, antiseptic, and antibacterial. It's possible to use an oil directly. But if you've got sensitive skin it may be an excellent idea to dilute it with a couple glasses of plain water or using a carrier oil like coconut oil.

A number of the very important oils which you could use include jojoba oil, peppermint oil, tea tree oil, and lime oil. Wait before setting it with warm water when you rub the critical oil in your skin.

Sea salt and baking soda equally have exfoliating properties.

Twice daily, use your fingertips to exfoliate your skin using this mixture. Avoid being overly vigorous since you are able to end up discoloration and damaging skin even though rub it. Once you have finished, rinse it off with warm water then pat dry. Continue this treatment before the ingrown hairs wash off.

Baking soda or sea salt with 2 strands you receive an exfoliator.

Honey contains antibacterial properties and glucose is a natural exfoliator. Mix sugar free honey and olive oil to create a natural exfoliator. Rub it. Try not to be too harsh, but instead be gentle in order to not irritate skin.

These homemade remedies may be used with any type of skin kind for Anthony ingrown hair therapy or another sort of ingrown hair treatment.

The majority of the time, eliminating ingrown hairs require a good deal of work and time. But this does not need to be . You actually can lower the danger of getting ingrown hairs and take some precautions to prevent them. Here Are a Few Tips to follow for ingrown hair thinning;

Daily, rub your face together with the other regions that you brush having an exfoliating scrub. This way, the dead skin cells won't accumulate on your hair follicles. Wash these areas using warm water and a gentle soap daily to keep them clean.

Shaving dry skin often contributes to ingrown hairs. Use lotion or a shaving gel and as soon as you apply it, let it sit for a couple minutes before beginning shaving. Another decision is to shave straight because your skin is then going to be moist once you've showered.

Make an effort to not shave too closely. Shaving in the path that's contrary to this hair development will supply you a smoother and more precise shave epidermis. However, in additionit usually means that each hair will be trimmed at a flatter angle, and is, thus, prone to reunite under the epidermis. Apply a moisturizing cream or lotion onto skin after waxing or shaving. Change your razor blade regularly and prevent dull blades constantly.

If you are pestered by ingrown hairs frequently whatever you can do, then consider alternate ways of eliminating unwanted hair rather than waxing and shaving. Laser hair removal, electrolysis and using depilatory creams are only a couple of the alternative choices. You may be considering our reviews on the best at-home laser treatment & IPL hair removal devices, highly effective home electrolysis hair removal tools, and many permanent hair removal creams.

Ingrown hairs are upsetting but nevertheless, benign. Ordinarily, you do not even have to do anything to them to clean off.

They simply vanish by themselves. However, they can also cause very serious health issues and may become mortal on specific events. This happens more often than you may expect regardless of what you might think.

Staphylococcus aureus is a kind of bacteria which might be understood on the surface of about 30% of healthy women and men. These germs are benign when they dwell in their skin.

On the flip side, should they can set in your skin via a very small cut, they could cause substantial health problems. It's possible to find those very small cuts from shaving and popping, waxing or choosing out your ingrown hair. That is why you shouldn't scratch or fiddle with your ingrown hairs.

The moment an ingrown hair is infected, it seems warm to the touch and bloated, looks reddish, itches, and swells. In the event of staph, this gets worse and worse and might become an abscess which develops until emptied. Additionally, dependent on the intensity of the circumstance, in case this abscess is not emptied within days, the disease can spread internally and lead to a deadly blood disease.

When you find a physician and are diagnosed with a staph infection, your physician will numb the area. He/she will create an embryo and then squeeze the puss. Even though it sounds painful and disgusting, you would like this treatment to some fatal cardiovascular disease at any given moment. Afterwards you will want to use oral antibiotics to finish your therapy.

In conclusion, no matter being generally benign, ingrown hairs can be exceedingly dangerous occasionally, even life threatening. To Be Able to avoid a serious situation like staphylococcus disorder, please visit a doctor immediately in Case That you suffer with the symptoms in your own skin;

A Few of Those inconveniences ingrown hairs can cause are as follows;

You will find a great deal of hair serums, lotions, and creams available on the market. Locating the one since it seems, might not be straightforward. All of the products are promoted as being the best, but can you genuinely feel the advertisements? We have a fantastic look at just how serums, lotions, and creams differentiate from the poor.

Ingrown hair may be a nuisance, particularly during the warm season when you wear clothes. Removing reducing and it can be a very long process, but having a fantastic ointment, lotion or cream may shorten the time and make it comfy. Each product has its own characteristics, but the absolute best ones have a lot of things in common.

Among the most crucial characteristics of serum is how simple it's to use it. You might not opt to utilize it in case the remedy is fatty and difficult to wash off, or at case, the process is cluttered even when the serum is extremely powerful.

Most manufacturers attempt to create their products user friendly, plus they have the capability to do so in a variety of ways, normally using containers which are smart.

Straightforward Indices: These containers are easy and easy to use. You just pour some solution in your own hands, you then spread it where it's necessary. So you can observe choice is left after a program, the containers could be transparent or coloured.

It should be easy to use and wash off when the serum comes out of a tube. Nobody feels comfortable having a greasy substance in their palms.

Many options arrive at spray-like tubes. Rather than pouring the substance on your hand, you will simply spray on it where you want it. This makes the application process easier, and many frequently cleaner.

Serums that arrive at a spray tube do not need to be removed, and they'll put in your skin fast. But if you understand you've got sensitive skin, you ought to wash off after a few minutes approximately.

Some ingrown hair serum manufacturers actually got creative about maintaining their materials in containers. Rather than using a container, then they utilized roll-on sticks. These sticks have a roll-on mind that can spread the solution from the skin where you require it. This creates the serum effortless to use till you've got sensitive skin, and you won't have to wash it off.

You may be wondering exactly what distinguishes the ingrown hair serums from the bad. To know that, you wish to understand how they function.

All these serums be the exfoliating cream. They exfoliate your dead skin so that the ingrown hairs will probably be nearer to the surface. Manufacturers recommend using this serum for at least two times daily for 2 days prior to the epilation process.

That is because a fair number of dead skin must be emptied to demonstrate that the ingrown hairs. Should you exfoliate the epidermis, the tip of this hair will depart the skin, and you will be able to remove it.

These creams play a vital role in reducing the inflammation due to the ingrown hairs. An immune response is triggered by the hairs out of the entire body, which tries to eliminate them because it might a splinter whenever they grow under the skin.

This causes an inflammation which should push the hair into the upper layer of the skin, only that doesn't occur as it may with a little splinter. The serum enhances the redness, making your skin smoother and with a relief response. Third, the serums act as a protective agent against additional inflammation as soon as you eliminate the hair. This may lower the odds of your skin once you remove the hair getting itchy and red, and keeps your skin smooth and nice.

Creams, lotions, and powerful ingrown hair serums have. They'll do away with a fantastic number of skin-problems without inducing distress or a rash. They will diminish the inflammation because of the ingrown hairs, and they will also protect your skin from further inflammation.

Credit Must Visit : https://beautyshuffle.com/

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#how to prevent ingrown hairs after waxing #ingrown hair cream #ingrown hair treatment #after epilation care

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thebifrostgiant · 6 years ago

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If You Know Where to Look - Part 13

Summary: in which you find something in an unexpected place

Part 1 / Previous

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 3,013

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Chapter 13: Little Acorns

The clothing shop is small and warm out of the wind, and a bell rings as Loki pushes the glass door open. As they make their way inside, In-Hvassa hands him back the green paper money and he runs his fingers over the folded edge of the wad. He isn’t entirely sure how much they’ll need, how much the clothing and whatever else they’ll require will cost. As much as he had enjoyed the petty crime of acquiring it, as much as In-Hvassa had as well — and wasn’t that a surprising turn of events — he doesn’t want to make a habit of stealing for funds. More chances of being caught. He had taken as much as he had thought he could get away with, but he didn’t want to leave the man penniless either. Even when he turned out to be as wealthy as Loki had suspected. But for now, they have enough for a few changes of clothes, and a pair or two of shoes.

They’re greeted by the shopkeeper and soft music. The place is crowded with shirts and jackets hanging in neat rows and stacks of pants on shelves. On the far side to the left, there are dresses and scarves and colorful clothing under a sign that says Ladies. To the right is the men’s clothing, and with a nod at Loki, she leaves him to browse the myriad of fabrics in grays and blacks and neutral blues while she makes her way to the clothes for women.

Loki isn’t impressed with the Midgardian attire, isn’t overly fond of the too-saturated blacks and somber colors, the flimsy fabrics and coarse textures. But he finds these things do not bother him overmuch at the moment, far too pleased is he, still caught in the undertow of adrenaline and the giddiness of success. He glances at where In-Hvassa is stroking the fabric of a strange, short dress with a pattern of small flowers. For all her complaining, all her reluctance at first, she had shaped up to be quite adept at her distraction, the truth of her aim hidden beneath the polite words and innocently inquiring appearance. She has claws. Delicate and retractable as a cat’s, but just as needle sharp as well. And that Loki is impressed with.

***

Loki steps out of the washroom wearing the new clothing he’d picked out and holding the wrap bandage in his hand loosely. The front of his shirt — a dark blue shade that doesn’t particularly suit him, you think but do not say. It makes him look quite pale, like he’s been rinsed free of the color in his face — is unbuttoned and hangs open. As you look up at him from your spot in the armchair, already dressed and comfortable, he catches your eye and beckons you over with a shake of the bandage. You set aside the book you had been trying to read, which hadn’t been very good in the first place, and join him in sitting on the side of his bed.

“This might be a bit easier if you take the shirt all the way off,” you tell him, and then fight back a blush at how audacious you’d sounded. “My prince.”

You fidget with the bandage in your hands as Loki shimmies out of the shirt, carefully not looking at him in some semblance of privacy.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly, prompting you to turn to him, a confused frown on your face.

“Do what?” You look between him — well, his face — and the bandage, wondering what in the world you had been doing that he wants you to refrain from.

“‘My prince,’” he mimics, even though his imitation of your tone is probably laced with far more respect than yours has ever had.

“You told me to,” you say hesitantly, not really wanting to contradict him, but, well, he had.

“I shouldn’t have,” he admits with a tiny, sheepish smile. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Pardon?”

He tips his head at you, eyes narrowed likes he’s studying you, searching for something. Whatever it is, you can only hope you measure up. It makes you feel a bit awkward, the scrutiny, and you’re still just holding the bandage uselessly and trying not to look away from the bright green of his eyes.

“You have never once meant it,” he decides, although it is said with no heat. You don’t know what to make of that, don’t know what he’s thinking, or what to do about it.

Because he’s right. It’s not that you’ve meant any overt disrespect, or to discount his rightful title, but you do find it a challenging habit to form when he does not, in short, act like a prince. He is persistent, yes, and used to a fair amount of things being the way he insists, but then, so is a willful horse. But he does not measure up to the tales you’ve heard of Asgard’s other prince, the ones that exemplify such a word, your reference point, all chivalry and brazen ferocity. No coward is he, but where Thor shines, Loki... Loki embodies the shadows, subtle and obscure, hard to define around the edges. It is hard to muster up respect when you don’t even know what it is you are respecting. But you think maybe you are starting to see.

“Apologies,” you mumble, and you do let your eyes fall then.

Loki huffs a breath, and you see it as well as hear it, see his chest expand and deflate with the movement of it. But Loki doesn’t sound angry. He sounds... amused? Resigned? You do not know.

“They look better,” you say, just to say something, to change the topic, to make an excuse for staring at Loki’s chest, which is exactly what you realize you had been doing, unintentionally. “The bruises.” And it makes you feel better too, more confident and less like you’re going to unravel, to direct your focus to one specific goal, one uncomplicated, easy target. You look back up at Loki, who seems more relaxed, looser at the shoulders, and still hasn’t lost his grin, although there’s a spark in his eyes that makes you think he knows exactly what you’re doing. You swallow. “Do they feel better also?”

Loki nods his head, still pining you with that uninterpretable look.

“Much better, actually. Thank you.”

And it’s the second time he’s thanked you, and while you don’t doubt he meant it the first, this time rings with a certain sincerity that the other had not had. It occurs to you, like a sudden dousing of cold water, that Loki is trying to test the waters, to befriend you, you would imagine, actually trying to be kind and, and honest, too, which you don’t imagine is something he’d do for just anyone. You must have gained something major then, just by being his cohort in thievery, just by laughing with him, to make the resentment bleed out of him like that. Because it has. You think he doesn’t hate you still.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, and mean it.

You lean over to start wrapping his chest with the bandage, and it’s becoming easier with each repetition, your hands fining a rhythm at the familiar movements. You hadn’t lied. The bruising does look much better. The swelling has gone down a lot, and the bright purple has toned down to a healing greenish tint.

When you finish, you let your hands drop and slide back across the mattress to give Loki space, but you don’t get up. He doesn’t move, though, just sits there, leant back and propped up on his wrists, caught up in some thought.

“Do you have any idea how this happened?” you ask, tentative, because it feels sort of like poking at a nest of bees. “What Bǫlverkr and Lyngvir did to suppress your magic?”

Loki shrugs, which must mean that he truly is feeling a bit better, since he’s able to, and sighs.

“I do not. I was... not conscious for a majority of the time I was in their charming company.”

The sarcasm is familiar, and something of a comfort. It reminds you of your brother, that underhanded way of stating something, saying it without saying it, and it warms you to Loki as much as it sets an ache in your heart. You miss him, vehemently. You wonder if Loki misses Prince Thor, if they were as close as you and your brother. From what you’d seen, they seemed to get on relatively well, have some care and regard for each other. Loki has always appeared so strong and self-sufficient, it’s hard to think of him as being lonely, as longing for his own family as you long for yours. But you’d seen first hand that he is not quite so untouchable, that he can bruise and bleed as easy as anyone, and you’ve long known that he’s pretentious and proud, and fills in the cracks as soon as they appear. You hope that whatever this sudden ease is that’s settled over you like a a warm blanket, it’s the truth, and you find yourself wanting it to last. You could use a friend.

“Yeah. Right,” you say, and gesture toward his temple, where he’d been struck, where the injury is hidden in his hairline. You’d nearly forgotten.

Loki looks away, but nods. He seems... embarrassed. Ashamed. Like him being taken off guard was his fault, like he shouldn’t have let it happen to him. Which is ridiculous. There are much more deserving shoulders to rest that blame on.

“I didn't run away, you know,” you tell him, belatedly realizing that the connection from one topic to the next had taken place entirely in your mind, and Loki would have no way of following that trail of thought. But still, Loki is willing to try to be nicer to you. You can try as well. “When you found me, I mean.” Loki turns to you listening, actually listening, face soft and without that defensive snappishness ready to rise on his tongue. He looks almost friendly, and it’s... you could get used to that look. It gives you the courage to continue your tale. “I didn’t run away, I was... I was on my way home. I, I shouldn’t have been alone, I guess, that was, perhaps, a bit foolish of me. I...” It is hard to talk about regardless. You look away, and fold your hands in your lap, hoping to keep them still, to hide your restless nerves. “He was so big. So much bigger than me. Bigger than Prince Thor, even.” And you risk a glance up and give a half-hearted chuckle at the joke. “Stórr. That was his name. He grabbed me. Caught me by surprise. That’s how I ended up with Einvald. I... I couldn’t fight back.”

Unexpectedly, Loki leans closer, wraps his fingers around your wrist and just lets them rest there, gentle.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says, voice low and earnest.

You look him in the eyes, fierce and determined and willing him to understand.

“I know.”

Loki doesn’t blink, but there is something in his face that you know has heard you, has recognized the truth for what it is, and his throat works. He squeezes your wrist and lets his hand fall away.

“Do you...” you start, the beginnings of a sudden, crazy idea forming in your mind, borne out of the desperate need to change the topic before it gets even more awkward for both of you. “That is, it is just you that they did... whatever it is they did to, right? They didn’t do anything to me. I should still be able to use magic, shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to. You know how?” He sounds surprised.

You shake your head.

“I have never practiced before. But maybe... maybe you could show me? Or explain it, anyway. I could... I could at least try. It wouldn’t hurt to try.” And hope has lit a blaze in your chest, warm and wild, and maybe, just maybe, there’s something you can do.

Loki opens his mouth, and shuts it again, a dark cloud befalling his countenance.

“Heimdall,” he whispers, sounding for the life of him like that one word is a puzzle he cannot solve. “There’s no reason he should not have answered you.”

And no. No there isn’t. The flame in your heart withers, but the ember won’t go out.

“He must not have seen.” But it doesn’t change anything, because by all rights he should have seen. “You don’t think something has happened to him, do you? If Ülle diverted the attention of the servants and guards, she might have done something to him too. She didn’t say anything about it, I swear, if I knew she was planning to harm him I would have done... ” what would you have done? “Something.”

“She could not have done so without my father’s notice. Heimdall is fine, I’m sure, but you are hidden here. And that I’m not sure of.”

It’s a long moment of silence that follows, a long moment spent contemplating, chewing up and spitting out half-formed ideas that hold no water, that have flaws as quickly realized as the thought had come. Loki puts his shirt back on. You trace a path over the rug, back and forth, the steady creak of the floorboards sounding in time. There has to be something you are overlooking. At the very least, you have to try, and keep on trying, as many times as it takes until you can grasp the answer in your hands and know that you are going home. For Prince Thor. For your brother. You glance at Loki. For him, too, and yourself. Home. It’s a goal to orient yourself toward, to aim for, fixed in flight like a moth to a flame.

“Are you certain that he cannot see us?” The thought comes out of nowhere, as haunting as it is sound. It makes sense. It makes a bit too much sense. “What if... what if he’s just not responding?”

“While the gatekeeper and I often do not see eye to eye,” Loki says, with enough rancor embedded under the words that you recognize this as an understatement, “Heimdall is not one for neglecting his duties. He would not leave an innocent person stranded on another realm.” And Loki would know Heimdall better than you, and he speaks with absolute confidence. Unfortunately, it does nothing to tamp down the worry that’s starting to grow and writhe.

“But what if I’m not?” It bursts out of you more forcefully than you had meant, and it’s probably not fair to Loki to make him bear the brunt of it, but now that the thought has caught hold, has wriggled little roots in your mind, you can’t dislodge it, and it has the shape of truth, cold truth, and you shiver. Loki hesitates, unsure, confused, frowning. You clarify. “I mean, if he thinks I’m not. If he thinks I did this,” you whisper, and you wish the thought didn’t sting so much, but it does. Oh it does. Because it’s just so unfair, so opposite to who you are, what you would do. And this... you would never do this, not to Loki, not to anyone. But you had unwittingly played right into Ülle’s hand, hadn’t you?

Loki steps forward, giving you another one of those long looks. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to say, and that’s because there isn’t much to say.

“You know how this has to look, don’t you?” You stare out the window, at nothing in particular, arms coming up to wrap around yourself. “I was there. I was right there. Wrong place, wrong time, and there’s no one to say that I was only trying to help! I even all but said that I was there to hurt you, and they wouldn’t even have to lie to let the blame fall to me. I showed up, claimed to be about vengeance, and we both disappeared right as I touched you! It couldn’t look more like my doing it I tried. I’ve given them exactly what they needed, haven’t I?” The last is said through a sudden thickness in your throat, and you cover your eyes, because you really don’t want to be crying right now, but it’s all so much, and it’s so frustrating, and you can do nothing about it because it just is. One big mess, all because you were trying to do something nice.

There’s a light touch on your shoulder, a steadying hand laid there.

“Hey,” Loki says, gentle for the second time today. “Are you alright?”

You look up at him, a bit dewy eyed and shaky.

“Yes. No.” You laugh, a bit too wet for real levity, but it’s funny, how not funny it is. “Is any of this alright?” Loki smiles crookedly in answer. His hand has not left your shoulder. “Remind me,” you say, clinging to wry wit to keep you afloat as you drift through the whole whelming imbroglio. “Next time there’s some huge, treasonous plot astir, to find someone apt at doing something about it, instead of trying to fix it on my own?”

Loki laughs, a startled sound, wrung out of him by the absurdity of there being a next time, of the absurdity of this time.

“You’re assuming there is someone apt at such a task,” he says, and he sounds so serious too, but there’s that gleam of wickedness in his eyes, for once not aimed at you, but shared. If you’re not careful, you might end up liking him, you think, as you press your lips together to fight a smile.

“Loki?” you say, the name sounding a bit precarious on your tongue, but somehow more sincere than ‘my prince’ had been. He looks at you. “Thank you.”

And you mean it.

Part 14 ———————————————————————

*feel free to ask to tag/untag*

@steve-rogcrs

#loki fic #loki fanfic #loki/reader #loki/you #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki imagine #loki fandom #if you know where to look #bifrostgiant writes

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lovedevorak · 6 years ago

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Maere + Julian - bath scene

Yep, I wrote the entire bath scene with Maere and Julian, under the cut because it turned out kinda long. I hope it isn’t too boring - a lot of it, especially dialogue, is from the game but I also improvised quite a bit, too. You can really insert any female Apprentice in here, if you can ignore the use of the name Maere! Enjoy~

The splendor of Nadia’s bathroom amazes Maere from the moment she and Julian enter it. Exquisite, tall arches curve over doors and windows, elegant designs hand carved into the marble that catch the candlelight and that of the moon, hovering outside the large open balcony overlooking the city. Sheer drapes flutter delicately in the night breeze, as if waving a gentle hello to the glittering stars above. It’s fairly quiet, muffled cheers and laughs floating up through the window from the Masquerade below, but distant enough to fade out of mind.

Maere steps onto the tiled floor edging the bath itself, sleek and shiny. She looks down and sees her own reflection peering up at her, wide eyed. Julian’s knuckles brush her arm as he takes in the beauty of the room, turning his head this way and that in awe.

“I could get used to this,” he comments, fixing his excited gaze on Maere. “Come on, I’m ready to relax for a bit.”

Maere smiles, reaching behind her head to untie her mask and place it on a bench near her. She stretches her arms up to take Julian’s mask off as well, setting it next to hers. Julian sighs and nuzzles into her hand, eyes slipping closed for a moment in contentment.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, lips brushing against her palm as he speaks. Long arms come to grasp Maere’s shoulders, anchoring her to him as he leans forward and presses their bodies together. Maere strokes her hands up his sides, keeping him close.

Suddenly Julian pushes away, cheeks pink, and takes his hands back, eyes darting around awkwardly. “It’s, uh, it’s hot in here, isn’t it?” It is, Maere thinks. There’s plenty of steam rising from the bath, making the air heavy and damp. She already feels her gown starting to cling to her body.

She lets out a soft laugh, reaching up to loosen Julian’s collar. Her fingers tug at the red cravat around his neck and he focuses his attention back on her. His own hands come up to cover hers, holding them to his chest. A tender look falls over his face, so intense and sincere that Maere almost finds it hard to hold his gaze.

Julian speaks softly. “If you told me before that I could be here with you…” He shakes his head slightly, hands leaving Maere’s to brush over the material on her shoulders. Maere’s breath catches in her throat. She isn’t nervous, really; she enjoys his touch far too much for that. But the emotion on his face, in the way his fingers push her gown down her arms reverently? That is something she isn’t used to. To be so loved and adored… She nearly trembles at the ferocious swell of affection that blooms in her chest toward him.

Unclasping her gown from the back, Maere helps Julian slide the silky fabric off her body entirely. It pools on the floor around her ankles, a shimmery pink puddle. She wastes no time in unbuttoning Julian’s own costume, slipping the feathery coat down his arms and tugging the cravat loose. He lets her do all the work, gray eyes lidded and heavy as they take in the sight of her. His desire is plainly evident on his face, and his breath catches in his chest as her fingertips lightly trace a path down from his collarbone to his hipbone, to make quick work of his trousers and boots.

With one hand Julian catches Maere’s arm, stopping her from touching him. With the other he reaches behind her, stretching to grab two sheer silk robes from the wall. Maere smiles her thanks and slips the light fabric around her shoulders, tying it at the waist.

“Ahh, now this is the life, isn’t it?” Julian sighs. He looks divine, the robe draped casually over his shoulders and leaving the wide expanse of his chest and neck bare. Maere resists the urge to reach out and kiss him, to trail her fingers down his abdomen and feel his soft skin, speckled with dark hair from chest to hips. “You can’t get luxury like this on a pirate ship.” He turns his back to her, stretching his long limbs delightfully - Maere gathers her self control and simply watches - and beginning to poke around the colorful glass bottles and jars, set on a copper tray on the edge of the bath. He plucks one up and pops the cork off, sniffing its contents curiously.

With an excited grin, Julian glances up at Maere. “This… I’d know this salty tang anywhere,” he says. “Premium bath salts, fresh from Nevivon! Ah, what a nostalgic smell.” He studies the jar fondly for a moment, then turns it over above the water and shakes out a generous amount. After a quick investigation of the other jars, Julian seems satisfied with his bath concoction and slides over the edge into the water. Blue steam rolls up his shoulders, shrouding him in a lovely glow and the sweet scent of the sea. With a coy smirk over his shoulder, he beckons her. “Come on in, Maere, the water’s fine,” he purrs.

Maere nearly trips over herself in her haste to join Julian in the bath. He scoots over, making room for her to sit next to him as she lowers herself into the warm water. It’s immediately relaxing and she can’t hold in a groan as she stretches her legs out, letting them bob and float in front of her.

“Can’t remember the last time I had a bath this nice,” he says. Tentatively he reaches out, brushing his fingertips on my shoulder. “And it’s been even longer since I had one with such good company.”

Maere pulls his outstretched hand to her lips, pressing a soft smiling kiss to the palm. She peers into his eyes, which are wide and fixated on her.

“I-“ He cuts himself off, flexing his fingers against her cheek. “Is the water okay? Do you need anything?”

Maere recognizes the look on Julian’s face. He wants to please her, wants to do anything he can to make sure she’s happy and taken care of. An endearing trait, sure, but right now she has other ideas.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispers against his skin, kissing each of his fingertips individually and then moving further up.

Julian seems too stunned to speak. “I, uh… What?” he stammers. He can’t tear his eyes away from the lips currently brushing against the pulse point at his wrist, can’t hide how his hands are suddenly trembling. A lovely pink blush creeps all the way from his shoulders to his cheekbones. “I-I’m fine, really, I-“

With one finger against his mouth, Maere silences him. “You deserve to be cared for, too,” she murmurs, releasing his arm to focus her full attention on looking into his eyes. They dilate, flicking over her face anxiously. Maere slides closer, so her side is pressed fully against his and she has to crane her neck back to see him.

Julian swallows thickly. “Well, alright, but-“

He is cut off with a kiss, slow and sensual and soft. At first he tries to say something else, Maere can feel him tense and pull back slightly, but just as well he relaxes and leans into her. His long arms curve around her back, pulling her torso flush to his. After a moment Maere breaks contact, turning her head to sort through the bottles behind her. She finds one, a sandalwood scented perfume, and grabs it.

“Come here,” she says, gesturing to the space between her legs in the water, “I’ll wash your hair.” Julian surges forward eagerly, splashing water over the edge of the bath and up the front of Maere’s robe. She laughs at him as he settles his back against her thighs, armpits hooking over them to keep himself supported. With a gentle push Maere guides him lower into the water, until his head is resting against her navel, and laces her fingers through his curly hair. The moan he lets out as she strokes his scalp is positively sinful and reverberates through her core, but she stays quiet, working on lathering the shampoo beneath her hands.

“is this okay?” he asks suddenly. “Should I move? Am I resting on you too hard?”

Maere shakes her head, even though he can’t see it. “You’re doing amazing, Julian,” she assures. “I mean it.”

He’s taken aback. “Am I?” His shoulders relax a bit more into the water, finally letting go of all the tension he’d been holding. “I, uh, okay then.”

Maere works for a while, gentle fingers lathering and smoothing and massaging until Julian is a puddle against her, and then she rinses him clean. He still feels unsure, his aura more reserved and self-conscious than usual, but at least he’s allowing himself to be doted on for a while. It’s obviously not something he’s used to, though he enjoys it. Praise, she supposes, isn’t a luxury he was ever afforded while growing up, and even now. Once Julian’s hair is rinsed of shampoo, Maere’s hands travel down his neck, firm touches soothing muscles she’s sure have been tight for a long, long time. He groans again, head lolling forward to allow her better access.

“You’ve been working so hard, Julian. You should relax, too.”

His shoulders rise with a sharp intake of breath. “It never feels like enough,” he mutters, fingers finding Maere’s ankles in the water and gripping them. She pulls her hands away from his body, reaching out for one of the red flowers drifting by on the surface and tucking it behind his ear. Leaning forward, she presses a kiss to the side of his neck, where her fingers just were. She feels his body tense, feels his pulse hammering beneath her lips.

“It’s enough,” she whispers, trying to convey every ounce of assurance and affection she feels through her voice.

Julian’s hands clench around her ankles. “Maere…” He turns around to face her, suddenly knelt between her thighs, wet skin illuminated in the moonlight and steam swirling around his eager face, and Maere’s heart skips a beat. He is so beautiful, so vulnerable, she thinks, as she reaches out to trace a droplet of water down his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. Planting his hands on either side of her, he rises out of the water high enough to kiss her, once, then twice, then again and again, until he is pressed against her stomach and his hands are knotted in her hair and their breaths come in pants, two beings together as one. He’s speaking a different language to her now, one with no words, but rather comprised of touch and emotion, and she understands exactly what he’s saying. When they pull apart, it’s with a reluctant sigh. Julian rests his forehead against Maere’s, giving her one last kiss on the tip of her nose.

#julian + maere #julian x apprentice #julian #the arcana #julian devorak x mc #whatever I don't really care about the tags #not sure anyone will find this and read it anyway #I just spit it out on about an hour tonight and felt like posting It!#maere

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eerythingisshaka · 7 years ago

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The Coffee Prince Pt. 3

(T’Challa x Reader)

*Part 1* *Part 2*

Word Count: 4.8k

Plot: Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

*Previously*

Hi, I hope this is the right number. (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend. I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time. We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds. Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place. (laughs then clears his throat) Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message. This is T’Challa by the way. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times. Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again. You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people. No one has claimed nobody yet. But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.

You had today on your mind every minute up until now. When you woke up for work, you felt fully rested and eager to get through the day. Not even the worst attitudes from customers could dampen your high from getting that call from T’Challa. What a name, a melody of possibility in your head whenever you thought about him. You purposely avoided the coffee shop just to make sure to keep anticipation at its peak. You felt so silly thinking about it. Tavia told you not to get too excited because it could still not count as a date yet. The music festival was a 3 day bender, with hundreds of people attending. She thought something so large and public wasn’t something a dude would choose if he is trying to choose you, in her nicest opinion. You took her advice with a grain of salt, but one thing that couldn’t be denied is that he wanted to spend some time with you and that’s that on that!

The day of your date, you put yourself through nothing but self-love and self-care to get yourself in the right mindset. Your playlist of bops hype up your spirit as your Aztec healing clay mask dry whilst you diy’d a mani-pedi for yourself. Rinsing your face of the dried clay, you feel reborn, giving yourself kissy faces and posing to the beat of your jams. For your hair, you had to go back and forth with yourself on what to do. Your hair was currently in two-strand twists, so should you let them down, showing off all you defined curl beauty? But it’s hot, so maybe a top bun or a faux hawk type of style could fit the festival vibe. Or maybe save some time and step up the glam with one of your colorful headwraps. Would he be offended, like you’re trying to be too into his culture or…

You decide to go for a half up, half down do. Taking down your twists you pony your hair right on top of your head, spreading your curls out, leaving the other half to flow freely down the nape of your neck. You put in some hoops, and some shorts to show off your most prized possessions. You thank God and your mother for your gams. A cool patterned tank and your gold gladiator sandals, you feel about ready, taking a glance in the mirror. Your curves looked more ready than you felt as you checked the denim hugging your hips, the glint of your epidermis taking up all the attention. You were a little self-conscious about having your thighs rubbing together or the shorts riding up, but those thighs were getting some attention today, so to hell with that! Your tank was loose with large holes for the arms so your bra showed in places, which you loved cuz it was a cute one and them titties were sitting proper. Your phone notifies you of your Lyft outside. You get your crossbody bag and head out.

Closing your bedroom door Tavia sitting in the living room in a big old t-shirt and bonnet, eating some hot chips, watching the TV.

“Hey girl. You look dope, wow.” Tavia said deadpan, without even looking your way.

You click your tongue, “Why you playin? You didn't even check me out. How I look?” you say with a twirl.

Tavia looks back at you. “Mhm, definitely catching somethin. You shave?”

“Yeah, moisturized, the works.” You say looking your legs over.

Tavia waves her chip at you, “Nah, nah. Did you SHAVE though?” She asks, wide eyed, sucking the hot red dust off of it comically.

“Girl! Ain’t nobody tryna smash tonight! What’re you taking me as?”

“Well damn, why not? Listen, you walk through here with some carnival game prize bigger than the door, imma assume he got some head.” Tavia says.

“Shut your ass up! I’m gone. I’ll text you the danger phrase if this goes awry.”

“That’s mama’s baby! Good Night!” Tavia says throwing up the peace sign as you walk out.

The ride to the festival felt like a cross country journey. You took the time to recheck your make-up, fan yourself from sweating since the driver seemed to not believe in A/C. You went through different scenarios of greetings. Hey! Wassup? Hi, how are you doing? Funny seeing you here! You fan yourself again trying to calm down, feeling idiotic with every minute. Maybe it wasn’t the lack of air that was the issue.

Your phone beeps, probably Tavia hyping you or humbling you one last time.

I’m here, outside the entrance when you get here :9

The symbol at the end of the text message was not something you were familiar with, so hopefully it's not a blatant sign for something. But you hopped in your seat a little. ecstatic at the message. T’Challa was early, AKA on time and waiting for you! God, what better way to have a man: ready and waiting. And the only acceptable occasion for them to come early.

The car pulls up in the parking lot a few yards from the hoopla and you thank them as you get out. Rows of cars lined the lot and the makeshift grass-converted parking area. The cacophony of noise you here from the distance welcomed you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the welcoming banner until you saw him. T’Challa paced slowly to and fro, looking up towards the sky, hands behind his back. He dressed very comfortably, in a dark green buttoned down short sleeve shirt with some embroidery design on the front, accentuating his ample shoulder span. T’Challa’s forearms were reporting for that duty, with biceps on deck. Your pace feels slows as your feet become weights pounding the pavement. Your nerves get to you as your mouth dries out. Mixed with the summer heat, and you were officially the epitome of thirsty. You try to have a proper strut down before he notices you: confident, bouncy, baddie.

T’Challa glances and finally sees you and a smile appears instantaneously on his face as he freezes in place to observe you coming up. You try to hold your smile down as much as possible. You don’t want to give him the upperhand of seeming too eager but damn, he looked fresh. Within talking distance, you exchange greetings.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” T’Challa asks pleasantly.

You nod humbly, “I am great, thanks. How about you?”

“Much better now. You look amazing this evening.” T’Challa says with a quick glance over you. Not even in a sleazy way, just like he truly appreciated your style, the apples of his cheeks practically popping off his face.

You start fanning yourself, giggling almost uncontrollably. “Aww, I know I look a lot different outside my work clothes. I can’t compare to these arms you decided to let out the house today. Where you been hiding them?” You say, turning up the flirt a little so he knows it's real.

T’Challa chuckles at you boldess, “Ahh, stop it. My sister suggested this shirt. I wondered if she was setting me up for something.”

“Mhm, for a thirst trap definitely. But it’s great.” You’re so starstruck. “Uh, your text had an odd symbol at the end of it. What does it mean?” You pull out your phone and show it.

“Ahh, I meant a smiley face. I;m not the best texter unfortunately, so typos will happen.” He puts his hands in his pockets anxiously. “Are you ready to go in?”

“Yup! Let’s hit it!” You say excitedly. T’Challa gives the ‘after you’ motion with a wave of his hand. Once y’all make it inside, you feel overwhelmed with the crowds of people walking through, dancing, talking. You get caught up in the scene, your mind fades out not sure what to tackle next.

“Do you want to walk around?” He asks over you.

You turn to see him waiting on your answer. Your introversion was coming back strong.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, let’s walk.”

Walking down the way you pass through see a couple acts performing. Nothing really bumping in the section you guys are at. You check T’Challa in your peripheral and he is just looking around, not saying anything. There is so much you could say but you don’t know the precedence to say it in. The worst thing about dating for you was the talking and getting to know each other.

“Do you know any of the acts that were performing today?” T’Challa asks you.

Shit, you thought. You didn’t even research anything about this festival. That would’ve been a great ice breaker.

“Uh...no. I didn’t. This could’ve been a country music hoedown and I’d be none the wiser.” you say pitifully.

T’Challa nods, “So, not a fan of the twang vocals of cowboys and saloon girls? What music do you listen to?”

You shake your head smiling, “Not ‘cowboys and saloon girls’ though! But those kinds of questions are too hard to ask! I listen to so many kinds, I can't devote myself to a genre. Even country sometimes, even though I lowkey trashed it just now. It has to be done right, white people always take it and bastardize it.”

“Blues, jazz, rock n roll…” T’Challa lists.

You say with a clap, “Exactly! We get stuck with the short end of the stick, erased from history.”

“I feel similarly. I am spoiled by my country’s sound. I have other artists that I enjoy but I stick to a certain group of them.”

“Any that I heard of?” you ask.

He thinks a moment. “That's the thing too, I'm not good with names! I enjoy the art and almost entirely ignore the person creating it.” You look at him incredulously. He puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s bad, I know. But I enjoy a lot of old school acts, R&B, soul. And of course local bands from Wakanda.”

“You will have to let me listen to some of your music then.” You say, suddenly shy again. Did that come off too strong? Too eager, as per usual.

T’Challa makes a subtle grunt noise, stopping next to you, “Oh, so you definitely want to see me after this, eh?” l

You smile as your stomach does NOLA bounce routine. Trying not to answer right away, you fake a thinking pose, “Slip of the tongue, but we will see how the night goes.” you say teasingly.

You guys walk past concessions and T’Challa offers to buy.

“What do you desire?” he asks.

Looking over the menu, you really hadn't worked up an appetite yet but you sure as hell was hot in the unforgiving humidity.

“Just a slushie, please.”

“Good choice. What flavor?”

“Red.”

T’Challa looks back at you confused, “And by chance, what flavor is red?”

You roll your eyes, “Are you pushing your respectability politics off on me? Red is red, I said what I said.”

T’Challa laughs at your antics, placing the order with the cashier. He gets one too, in blue. You both walk down the way, enjoying your treats.

“Mm, this is so good. Thanks for buying.” you say as you eat the sugary ice. The coolness radiates through your body against the evening heat.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re too polite; I’ll have to fine you for your courtesies.”

“Nooo, I’m poor, please!” you look to him with puppy dog eyes for forgiveness

T’Challa sips from his straw as he mulls it over. “I’ll let you off with good behavior, for now.”

“Too kind, my good man.” you say before sticking your red-dyed out at him in jest.

T’Challa laughs at your action, “Your maturity is unmatched.��

A bell dings nearby and a crowd erupts. One of those strong man meters is set up and is obviously a crowd favorite.

“Hey, you think you could do work on that over there?”

T’Challa checks it out shaking his head slightly unsure, “Ahh, I haven’t been to the gym in a while, I don’t know…”

You look over at the worker passing a teddy to the patron, “Well, I want to at least get a consolation prize. I’ll give it a go. Hold this.” You hand your empty cup to T’Challa, strolling over.

“Madam, would you like to take a crack at it?” The candy striped worker said, handing the mallet your way.

“Damn right!” you say confidently.

“You can do it!” you look behind you see T’Challa, beaming, holding up both cups. You square up and take a swing. No bell rung, and it didn’t make it past wimp, but the thrill was nice as you came out of your shell a little more.

“Nice try, young lady, nice try. But no one goes away empty handed. For you!” the candy striped man gives you a mini plushie duck fitting the palm of your hand.

“Thank you! It’s so cute,” You say, walking away smiling at the cute animal in hand.

“Maybe it’d ring if she sat on it.” a nearby voice said.

A white guy red as a beet sneers as you catch his eye, sipping his beer. You feel your good vibes disintegrate as he smiles pridefully at his joke, you. One thing that you haven’t been able to shake yet is how hurtful comments to your face about your weight can be. Remnants from your childhood made for a shaky foundation in your establishment of your worth. You knew these crowds would be an issue eventually.

“You sir, you’d like a shot?” You didn’t even notice until he had the hammer in his hand, but T’Challa was at the game getting ready to swing down. The ball shot up the column, rang the bell like a thunderclap, and knocked the dome clean off of it.

T’Challa looked over to the man in the crowd pointing the hammer his direction, “If you can only find confidence in talking down to others, I would suggest you lay your head right down here next time, so I can drum some sense into your brain, eh?” The white man was wiping his shirt, looking back at T’Challa all shooketh. He must’ve jumped out of his skin when T’Challa brought the hammer down.

The candy striped guy picked up the dome of the bell, “Uh, sir, did you want your prize or…”

T’Challa lays the hammer against the game, “Yes, my good man.”

The worker handed T’Challa a large, plush black cat. T’Challa took it, striding over to you. Your heart swelled with delight as he handed it to you. Not been to the gym in a while, my ass!, you thought. Those arms, back, shoulders, with some thigh assist didn’t lie though. You hugged your prize close.

T’Challa stood in front of you with concern, “Are you ok? I’m sorry if I acted out of turn.”

You looked at him shaking your head, “Don't apologize, or I’ll have to fine you!” you say with a wag of you finger.

“T’Challa smiled with relief, “He had no right to speak to you like that.”

You sigh, “I’ve heard it before, and I’ve heard even worse.” You start to walk on as T’Challa followed. “It was hard for me to fit in growing up at first because of my size, so I was bullied early on. But I started beating people to the punchline and the bullying soon stopped.”

“Do you ever believe the things people say?” T’Challa asked.

“No, not all the time anyway. It’s gotten better since college. I look at a lot of body positive people online and learn some tricks to cope.”

“(Y/N), I won’t tell you how to feel but anyone that talks about you with ill intent is either insane or not completely right up here.” He says pointing to his head.

You gained comfort from the respite T’Challa gave you. “I know, and sometimes it's not even them. I can be my worst critic. But I know not to fall for the smooth talking Negros that like to prey on the vulnerable too.” you say pointedly.

T’Challa looks to you mouth agape, “I don’t consider myself a smooth person, so I won’t take that as a warning to me.”

“Oh please! You waltzing over to threaten the guy in my honor? Smoove. Buying me a water a while back to soothe my scalded tongue? Smoove. The fact that you even got me to talk to you? Smoover than smoove.”

T’Challa laughs, “All right, enough! It’s not on purpose however. Certain traits become exemplified when I’m around certain kinds of people.” He looks at you smiling before looking on. You hug your cat tighter. Which cat you ask? WELL......

T’Challa goes on, “and I'm no stranger to bullying myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I have a very smart alek, very calculative jester for a little sister who has no end to calling out my uncool ways.”

You laugh, “Little siblings are the worst. I know, cuz I am one, and we have that right!”

“Bast, when will the tyranny end!” T’Challa calls to the skies.

A stage nearby lights up with low glow blues and purples, yellows and greens. The a crowd erupts as the act is about to start up and you hear something familiar.

“Oh my God.” You freeze in your place.

“What is it?” T’Challa asks worrisome.

“Do you know them?? Oh my God!” You say without anything else, running into the crowd as the act steps up to their mics.

T’Challa trails you until you reach a stopping point.

“Oh my God, The Internet! Syd! Oh my GOD!!” You scream waving around your plushie.

Syd tha Kyd steps to the mic, crooning the crowd with her soft falsetto. You sing along right with her, enamored by the surprise. You look to T’Challa in all the excitement and you catch him smirking at you, nodding along to the music. You take his hand and raise it up to sway side to side on the track, the electricity you felt being a mix from your idols and the foine dime to the side of you. You booty bump him playfully to get him loose, he bumps you back. All worries are cast away as the songs envelope you both, each one drawing you nearer to him, hands clenched the entire time.

Their set wasn’t long, but you guys stayed for the entirety of it as the night sky cast over the park, stars decorating the sky. The temperatures became bearable as the sun finally fell. Torches lit the way for you all to see and walk around. Once The Internet finished their set and the crowd dispersed, you and T’Challa start scoping for some grub.

“Do they have any wings around here or cheese fries, or somethin?” you ask out loud.

T’Challa looks over the vendors signs and points, “Ahh, your wish is granted! I’ll go ahead and order.”

“Wait! I can’t eat wings AND cheesy fries, I was just playing!” You weren’t but you wanted to be a lady.

“It’s ok, I’ll get both and we can split. I’ll be back!” Breaking from you, he walks on.

You hold your plushie close to you as you wait. Looking around the park you think this would be a perfect picture moment for the gram. Pulling out your phone you see you have a text from Tavia.

Ummm, what happened to texting me to make sure things were good though, like….

You text her back. I was supposed to let you know if things are BAD. No news is good news right?

Going to the camera, you shoot some scenery shots. Looking over your options, Tavia texts back. Well my bad! Ok, keep doin you boo!

T’Challa comes back with wings in one hand, cheesy fries in the other. God, you didn’t know what looked better: the food or him. And you were hungry regardless.

“I got some waters too.” He said, handing you the fries so he could get the waters from under his arm.

“Ooh, good thinking. Let’s find a spot to sit.” you say as you take down a fry. Walking into the park you find an unoccupied bench and sit. The faded music in the background was very chill, setting the mood. T’Challa takes a wing, eating the meat off. You absentmindedly watch his mouth chew as he ate. The muscles of his jaw masticating, his concentration to get every bit off the bone.

T’Challa wipes his hands and looks to you, “You were amazing back at the stage.”

You snap out of your trance, thinking over what he said, “Listen, I didn't do anything. Syd and them, were going off and they haven’t made a bad track yet. I’m only a fan.”

“It was pretty cool to see you so free spirited. And I heard you a little. You have some singing in your background, eh?”

You make a so-so motion with your hand, “I mean, a little bit. I’ve never done it for an audience but my shower is a long time fan of mine.”

He laughs, “It’s really captivating to watch. I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were here, but the music brought out another side I really enjoyed seeing.”

“Right! I appreciate you noticing that. I wasn't sure either cuz I’m such a homebody and then that guy. I still can’t wrap my head around you standing up for me that way either. I never had that happen for me.”

“Oh, Bast! I haven’t had someone so endearing to do that for. He doesn't know anything about you, otherwise he would’ve dusted the ground for you to walk.”

You laugh with your hands on your hips mockingly, “Well you haven’t even done that!”

“I can't defend the Queen and clean the quarters!”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “By the way, I heard you say that before. What is ‘Bast’?”

“Where I'm from that is a religious figure that some follow. A panther God.”

You cock your head to the side in curiosity, “Ohh do you have rituals, symbolism, and things around it?”

“Of course! Chants, dances, the works. Every religion just about does. Do you follow a Christian God?”

You nod. “Mhm, Team Jesus right here.”

T’Challa smiles, “Well, we have similar teaching just the practices stray off.”

“I always wondered about what religion I would have, had it not been for, you know.”

“Luckily my family does not know of that life, but I understand. God is all around us, comes in many forms in my opinion. I try to give honor wherever I am that things still grow, the earth still spins, things like that.”

You look up at the sky overwhelmed with the sensations of a successful evening, “God, it’s so beautiful out.”

He looks up. “The city sky does not compare to a Wakandan one, for sure.”

You look at him, his neck stretched back wanting to touch it, “Tell me about it. Your home.”

He leans back, resting his arm across the back of the bench. “Words couldn't do it justice. But just think about the most beautiful scenery you can imagine from nature shows, or pictures in a magazine. Then amplify it by one hundred.”

“You still have family there?”

T’Challa smiles to himself, “Yes. Mother, sister, and a bunch of people I consider family. It’s a close knit community”

“Wow. Do you miss it?” you ask.

“I do, all the time. But I haven’t thought about it once tonight.” Looking up to you, his eyes trained on your face. He says tossing a wing to the side, looking away in the distance again; clenching his jaws, resting his hands on his thighs. He looks nervous.

While studying his face you notice a unique detail to his hairline. “You have the most adorable widow’s peak. Just look at that.” You reach over, stopping midway as he looks at you expectantly, “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head. You lightly feel the curls that bunch to form this hereditary marvel.

“I wish I had one. It adds so much character to one's appearance. Like you need any but it’s like a little treasure.” you say smirking as his curls tickled your fingertips.

While touching it, you look at T’Challa who is focused on you, not saying a word. Mouth slightly agape, his eyes look to your mouth then back at your eyes. If there was ever a chance to kiss him, this was probably it.

“Uhh, did you hear me, or…” you say trailing off and chickening out, moving away a little to ease the building arousal between you.

“I want to compliment you now.” He says reaching for your hand, holding it. “Your eyes have an innocence that makes me feel unworthy to hold your glance. But I can’t help but to not look at you. You remind me of every beautiful trademark that makes a woman special. I could go on, but I don’t want to offend you. But I hope I can get to know more of you, so I can verbalize it properly.”

You look down at his long, knuckley hand holding yours. “T’Challa I don’t want you to talk about me anymore.”

T’Challa looks concerned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You stomach trembles inside as you try to find the words, “No, I know what you mean. But this is a lot for me to take in. I’ll say it’s been a while since I’ve been paid attention to like this, so it’s kind of overwhelming but…” you move his hand and inch closer. “I’m not a big conversationalist so I just want to...”

Your lips find each other, softly embraced in a kiss made for fairytales. But you felt so much more than what the kiss portrayed: excitement, joy, aroused at the fact that his face meshed with yours so perfect. His hand found the small of your back as your hand caressed his face gently to ensure the reality of it all. Breaking away slowly you both stare into each other, high off on the clouds of infatuation.

“Man, I dig you.” You say trying to break some of the romantic tension.

He smiles, “And I dig you, umhle.”

You smirk, “What that mean?”

“Something you should be very familiar with: ‘beautiful’”

“I could get used to that definitely.” you say, embracing him once more.

As much as you could stay on that bench forever, it was getting late and the mosquitoes were being disrespectful. T’Challa offered to take you home when the time came, but you needed a break or you might invite him up. You car arrives and you hug him goodbye. His hands wound around your back firmly, you securing yourself around his shoulders you take a mental note of his frame, so comfortable and meant for you.

“I had a great time, T’Challa,” you whisper in his ear.

“The pleasure was mine, (Y/N). Let me know when you’ve arrived home safely?”

You nod, giving him a peck on the cheek for good measure. You get in the car and he closes the door behind you, seeing you off. You hug your panther plushie tight to your face as you recap the evening. You were practically buoyant as you rode home, petting your prize tenderly, wishing it was T’Challa in your lap.

Making your way to your apartment, you open the door to see Tavia knocked out on the couch, and even bigger mess of snacks surrounding her and the table as she snores. You slam the door to wake her up.

She startles awake, looking at you squinty, “Well damn, What time is it?”

“Maybe, midnight by now?”

“Mm, decent hour, must not have given up the draws. Well go on and tell me about it” She wipes her eyes, getting a better look at you, noticing your plushie. “Uh-uh! You got a prize!! What did I tell you!”

“Bitch, I didn’t suck his dick. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” you say feigning tiredness.

“How fucking dare you! I aint get no sleep cuz of you, you aint gettin none cuz of me!”

“Girl, you were just knocked out! Go to bed.”

“But-”

Good night Tavia!”

You close your room door, tossing T’Challa Jr. on your bed. Kicking your shoes off, taking your hair down, you pull out your phone.

Home safe! You send to him. You put your phone down and unclothe to get comfortable. Suddenly a ding sounds and you dive for your device.

Glory to Bast. Sleep well, umhle.

You read it a couple of times before setting your phone back down. Laying down, you clutch your prized possession T’Challa won you to your chest as the day’s event float in your head: euphorically exhausted.

Part 4

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

Commencement Day

Song of Stevens

My Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@hairhattedghooligan@universalbri @therevolution-willbelive@you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines @airis-paris14 @afraiddreamingandloving @kreolemami

No mans land Tags

afraiddreamingandloving groovybbyy and nyeebey, yall here too! I just can’t tag you for some reason <3</p>

#tchalla #t'challa #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #t'challa x reader #tchalla x reader #t'challa x you #black panther au #marvrl au #t'challa fanfic #fanfic

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kpurereactions · 8 years ago

Text

Blowing Smoke

Namjoon

**Request: Finding out the love of his life smokes **

Type: Fluff/Smut

Summery: Only being a social smoker Namjoon had yet to see that habit of yours. But when he goes to find you at a party and sees you outside halfway through your cigarette he's flooded with different emotions.

Word Count: 2020

There was something about going out with you and his friends to a house party that Namjoon loved. You were glued to his side constantly staring at him with flushed cheeks caused by the one too many rum and cokes you had sucked down. It was nearing one in the morning and you had been very good about kicking the urge to step away, but when there was alcohol in your system, especially as much as there was now, it was hard to not want to smoke.

Kissing Namjoon on the cheek you told him you'd be right back, not specifying where you were going; you hated lying to him. As soon as you were outside and the cold air of the night hit your hot cheeks you sighed in relief before shoving your hand into the small purse you had to pull out the crushed carton and colorful lighter you've kept for so many years. The first inhale was blissful, bringing you down from your drunken state just enough to let you fully remember all the sweet nothings Namjoon had whispered in your ear and every time someone would try to step up to him he'd take your hand and pull you in closer. He was so sweet and you loved him so much your heart hurt just thinking about it.

"Y/n?"

You froze, the butt of the cigarette that was slowly burning out still being caressed by your perfectly glossed lips. You turned to see Namjoon standing there with hanging shoulders, hands in his pockets and confused and slightly sad face.

"Joonie, I..." You started trying to figure out if you should throw the butt out or hold onto it- not wanting to hide yourself from him but not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Just thinking about it you hadn't realized you had looked back out into the dark skyline and inhaled once again.

"Y/N?" He'd say again stepping up closer to you.

You exhaled and threw the butt on the ground and turned your body towards him but letting your head look over your shoulder so you weren't blowing the smoke directly at him. There was another minute that passed of you not quite sure that to say before he fully stepped up to you and squared his shoulders.

"I didnt know you smoked." He said looking straight at you.

"Its not an everyday habit..." You'd say feeling so small, your mind now racing about how this just might be a deal breaker for him.

"Okay." He said, smiling at you softly.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He said walking up and pulling you closer. "Flaws and all I don't care. I mean, obviously I care and Id prefer you didnt but Im not here to tell you how to live your life, just to live it with you." He said shrugging his shoulders goofily. You couldn't help but let your face fall not sure what he meant.

"I didnt expect that." You'd say as he played with your hair a little bit and puled you in even closer.

"You're not grossed out by me?" You'd say, feeling even smaller and kicking yourself for feeling that way.

"Why would I be grossed out by you Jagi? Sure its not my favorite quality of yours... But I have to say theres something about seeing your lips pursed like that, thats kindof..... Kind of sexy." He'd say dipping his head a little lower to meet your gaze. He'd use this moment to fluster you further and run his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Namjoon what are you doing." You said smirking lightly, watching his eyes grow darker.

"Nothing you don't expect from me baby girl." He said giving you a wicked grin that made your stomach lurch in anticipation.

"You're so bad." You chuckled.

He lent down to kiss you but your hand immediately rose to his chest as you suddenly became more self conscious about that fact that you definitely had smokers breath now. You never ever stopped him from leaning in for a kiss before so when he looked at you confused you just mimicked bringing a cigarette to your lips and exhaling so he knew what the problem was. He'd scoff and take your hand pulling you back towards the warm house. He didnt let go of you till he had found the stairs to the second floor and led you up them. He pulled you into the bathroom and left you standing in the corner by the bathtub. You watched with an amused smirk as he rummaged through the house owners things till he found what he was looking for.

You couldn't help but chuckle as he opened the cap of the green mouthwash and willingly let him feed you some. You spit after making him wait, the bulge in his pants extreme and the look in his eyes almost deadly as you prolonged the act of freshening your breath. You couldn't even rinse the sink properly before he had spun you around and pressed you against the bathroom door, his lips crashing to yours hungrily as he rose your arms above your head. His body was pressed so hard against yours you could hardly breath, but it was so comforting having him this close and if you could you would pull him closer.

Quickly you pushed his chest and started to unbutton his shirt till it was handing loosely off of his shoulders and it was his turn to undress you. He slipped the light fabric of your tank top over your head quickly before returning his lips to yours. He kissed down your jaw to your neck till he was able to hook his hands under your knees. He lifted you so your back was pressed agains the door and your legs wrapped around his waist tightly so he could have easier access to trailing kisses down your cleavage and leaving bite marks on the insides of your breasts. This made you groan with a light needy breath as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders even more and rotate your hips so your clothed core was circling the area right above his member.

This earned you a moan in return which brought a smile to your lips as you unhooked your legs and pushed him forward.

"You want to see what these lips can really do?" You asked guiding him softly till his back rested up against the counter. You took his wicked grin as a green light for you to press your lips to his once more to distract him slightly from your hands that were making quick work of unbuttoning his pants.

You kissed his neck moving across his adams apple and down to his collarbone. Your lips made heavy work as you slowly moved across the sculpted bone till you met the center of his chest. You looked up to see him watching you and this time you were the one to give him a wicked smile as you kissed down his center, slowing taking his pants with him as you lowered yourself to a kneeling position on the floor in front of him. You bit your lip at the sight of his dick springing up from the hem of his boxers as they followed his jeans. It didnt take you long to position yourself under his shaft and catch the base with your tongue so you could slowly drag it across his length making all the muscles in his body tense up. When you hit the tip you let the tip of your tongue circle the small pool of precum that was presenting itself to you.

Still with no hands you let him slowly took his length in your mouth and down your throat till your lips kissed his body. He growled at how good you had gotten with deep throating but the growled doubled as a warning to get going, teasing was not one of his favorite things. You smiled as he left your mouth and placed a hand around his shaft firmly before reconnecting his tip to your lips. With one hand you pumped while the other held tightly to his hip. Your tongue danced around his tip and it wasn't until he pushed his hips forward slightly did you start to bob your head, creating a vacuum for his member to be sucked through. His groaning was loud and more frequent this time as you knew exactly how to curl your tongue to hip that sensitive spot right where the tip hit his shaft.

He'd had enough. He didnt care how badly he wanted you to finish him off with that pretty little mouth of yours, all he wanted was to be in charge, like he always was and you loved him to be. You didnt realized his hand had found its way into your hair till he was pulling you off of him and lifting you up just to press you against the wall again. His kisses were heavy and sloppy and his hands took no shame as they ripped at your shorts to try and get them off of you as fast as possible. You loved it when he took charge like this so when the ripping sound your underwear fills the bathroom as he decided it would take to long for you to step out of them you couldn't help but gasp against his mouth. He then spun you around so quickly that you couldn't help your gaspy chuckle as he lifted you onto the counter.

Hooking your arms tightly around his neck you held him firmly so you wouldn't slide off the counter and you waited for him to line himself up with you. He didnt wait for you adjust as he slammed his member into your core, loving the sound of your hitching breath as you clawed at his back. He took no time in filling the bathroom with the sounds of your skin slapping and your loud unshameful moaning. Between the way his hips were curving up into you and the way he was holding you up made the sensation of him hitting the right spot every time that much more pleasurable. You were letting yourself go as the build in your core started to grow rapidly, your head resting against his shouldered as his pumps staggered knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

So when he pulled out of your abruptly and pulled you off the counter your eyes snapped open for half a second before he was turning you around to bend you over the counter so you were staring at yourself through the mirror. You watched as Namjoon took his bottom lip between his lip and entered you once more. It wasn't until his eyes met yours through the reflection this time did he let his lip go to smile before bringing his lips inward and thrusting once hard into you before picking up his regular pace. You braced yourself against the dip of the sink in front of you as watched you go back to closing your eyes and his favorite O face appeared. He wrapped his arms around your front so he could stimulate your clit and soon you were biting your lip in response.

Just watching you squirm under neath him, your knees clamping together and your knuckles turning while from your grip on the sink was enough to send him over the edge. The feeling of him exploding inside of you and riding out his high made your thighs quake and your chest to press against the counter as you gave one last moan before your orgasm erupted through out your body.

After removing himself he pressed his chest to your back and laid soft kisses on your shoulder while he whispered about how much he loved you. You'd sit up to wrap your arms around his neck and he hugged your naked body to his. You stood there like that for a good amount of minutes before a soft knock came from the bathroom door.

"Um, Namjoon? Y/n? Were leaving?" Hoseok's embarrassed voice said from behind the door.

#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts senarios #bts oneshot #Namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon reations #namjoon scenario #namjoon oneshot

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littleoases · 8 years ago

Text

The Beginning

Hannah and Baker’s first full day as girlfriends. HNITS verse. 7k.

On that sunny June morning, when Hannah wakes up, she remembers everything is new.

It’s been less than 12 hours since Baker showed up at her house and told her she loved her. Less than 12 hours since Baker kissed her on the street, promising she’d come back first thing in the morning so they could keep talking. And it’s been less than 12 hours since Baker texted her goodnight for the first time in weeks and weeks.

Hannah stretches her arms out to the side, sighing like a love-struck girl in a goddamn movie or something, but she doesn’t even feel embarrassed about it. Everything is too real, too surreal, too incredible to believe. She wants to check her phone, because she knows Baker will be awake already and will have texted her first thing, but she delays it for a little while, savoring the feeling of lying in bed with the sun streaming through the curtains and the echo of Baker’s kiss still buzzing on her lips.

When she finally checks her phone, she finds a single text that makes her stomach warm over.

Hey you. Let me know when you’re up, and I’ll come make you coffee and pretend like I’m not nervous as hell (in the best way) about all this.

Wow, you’re nervous? How embarrassing, Hannah writes back.

Cute, Hannah-bear. Leaving now.

Hannah feels excited and giddy and springy and, whatever she tells Baker, definitely nervous as hell, as she rushes out of bed and into the bathroom. She knows she doesn’t have much time to get ready – Baker’s house is less than 10 minutes away – but the nice thing about falling for her best friend is that she doesn’t have to look perfect, especially when Baker has seen her in her pajamas a million times before.

She doesn’t have time to do more than brush her teeth, wash her face, and throw her hair up into a messy bun before there’s a soft knocking on the door downstairs. She races to answer it with a growing thrill in her stomach, her heartbeat fast and ready.

When she opens the door to find Baker standing there in a big t-shirt and old running shorts, her hair loose and long, all she can do is grin stupidly at her. It’s okay, though, because Baker grins, too, her eyes locked on Hannah’s.

“Hey,” Hannah says.

“Hey,” Baker says.

They hover on the threshold for a beat, and then Baker laughs and steps her way into the kitchen, looking like she’s not sure what to do next. Hannah’s not sure, either, and as she stands there with her whole body buzzing, she runs through the options in her head. Should they kiss hello? Is it okay if they just hug? Is it okay if they simply look at each other?

They’re both grinning self-consciously, and they are definitely, completely, totally nervous as hell, but Hannah feels a low level of calm beneath the nerves trilling in her skin. She can’t stop smiling no matter how hard she tries.

“So…” she says, affecting her joking voice, “I think you promised me coffee, right?”

Baker rolls her eyes but keeps grinning, her body loosening as she walks off toward the coffee maker. And Hannah knows it was the right thing to say, because now they have something to do, some little task to take care of as they settle into each other again.

“Did you sleep okay?” Hannah asks, coming to stand a few feet behind her.

Baker glances back at her as she rinses out the coffee pot and grabs a measuring spoon from the drawer. Hannah’s heart inflates just from watching her.

“Yeah, I really did, actually,” Baker says. “It was the best sleep I’ve had in months.”

“Oh, well, we should have dramatic heart-to-heart reconciliation walks more often, then,” Hannah teases.

Baker rolls her eyes again, but her smile is brighter than ever. “How did you sleep?”

“Great,” Hannah says, still grinning. She pauses, then adds, “I couldn’t wait to wake up this morning.”

“Because you love Mondays so much?”

“Because I couldn’t wait to see you,” Hannah says, unable to help herself, and Baker blushes and busies herself with measuring out coffee grounds.

Hannah picks out their coffee mugs, choosing Baker’s old favorite – a vintage LSU one – to hand to her. They stand a few feet apart by the coffee maker as it gurgles and sputters into action, filling the house with the comforting smell of dark roast. Hannah can tell that she and Baker are both itching to reach over and touch each other, but they’re still too nervous, too new. It was easier the night before, after they’d had their big conversation, but now, standing here in the daylight and realizing they’re about to leap into this new, unknown relationship, it feels so big and dazzling and wonderful that it’s almost a little disorienting, like staring into the sun.

It’s easier when they go into the family room. The couch is there, worn-in and comfy, and it’s easy to fall onto it together, just as they always have. Now they can sit right next to each other, their knees and elbows bumping as they tuck their legs up onto the seat.

“Here,” Hannah says, and she lays a blanket over them, taking care to tuck it around Baker’s legs. “What do you wanna watch?”

Baker looks right at her. “Literally anything. You could put QVC on, for all I care.”

Hannah smirks. She feels daring, brave, so she makes another joke even though it might be too much.

“Because you’re going to be focused on me, anyway?”

Baker looks at her, and she’s self-conscious, but she’s brave, too. “Is this what it’s gonna be like?” she asks, her eyes narrowed. “Am I going to have to endure constant jokes about how much I like you? Because I’m not embarrassed by that, just so you know. Not anymore.”

Hannah blushes deeper than she ever knew she could, and Baker looks incredibly pleased with herself.

“Uh-huh,” Baker says smugly, turning back to the TV, “thought so.”

It takes a full five minutes for Hannah’s stomach to stop whirring.

They end up watching The Today Show. Joanie is still asleep upstairs, so they keep the volume fairly low, and it’s oddly comforting just to sit there absorbing mindless chatter without pressure for either one of them to talk; for now, they can just be.

Baker scoots forward to set her coffee mug on the table, and when she leans back, she ends up closer to Hannah than before. Hannah can’t help but think she did it on purpose, and the thought makes her stomach whir all over again.

A minute later she feels Baker staring at something, clearly distracted. Hannah follows her line of sight, but it looks like Baker’s just staring at a random spot on Hannah’s lap.

“What?” Hannah asks her.

Baker shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says casually, but she’s clearly flustered; her cheeks are turning red.

“What?” Hannah presses.

Baker shakes her head again and looks back to the TV, but a moment later, she fishes Hannah’s hand out from under the blanket. For one silly, crazy second Hannah thinks Baker wants to check the time on her watch, but then she realizes –

Baker wants to hold her hand.

Hannah’s stomach whirs and tilts and hopscotches. Baker interlocks their fingers, blushing scarlet, her eyes still on the TV.

Hannah could describe Baker’s hands in her sleep – her smooth, olive-colored skin; her long, slender wrists – but she’s not used to seeing one of Baker’s hands intertwined with her own. They’d held hands at the hospital, sure, and they’d held hands last night when they were walking around the Garden District, but both those times had felt necessary and stabilizing in the midst of such a heavy conversation. This right now, while they’re watching TV and drinking coffee, just feels sweet and tender and – there’s no other word for it – romantic.

“Got another joke lined up?” Baker asks shyly, her eyes still on the screen.

“No,” Hannah says quietly, and before she can think too much about it, she lays her head on Baker’s shoulder. Baker seems to tighten for a moment, but she quickly relaxes and nestles further into Hannah.

And it’s so nice. So nice.

The Today Show plays on, but Hannah is only paying attention to Baker – to her breathing, the smell of her hair, and the way she smooths her thumb against Hannah’s hand every few minutes.

“Did you eat anything?” Baker asks softly.

“No.”

“Can I make you some eggs?”

Hannah squeezes her hand. “Really?”

Baker laughs. “Don’t act like I’ve never made you breakfast before.”

“Not after holding my hand, you haven’t.”

Baker cooks them scrambled eggs, making extra so Joanie can have some later. She stands over the stove, one hand on her hip as she moves the spatula around, and Hannah can’t help it: she comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her waist.

“Hannah,” Baker says shyly, her entire body tense, “don’t make me burn your eggs.”

“We have more,” Hannah says, squeezing her middle, and after a moment Baker relaxes and drops her head back against Hannah’s. Hannah has an aching urge to kiss her shoulder, or her ear, or something, but it still feels too early for all that, so she just laughs instead.

“What?” Baker asks.

“Nothing. Just—crazy, huh?”

“Super crazy.”

Hannah releases her. “Don’t burn my eggs.”

Baker shoots her a pretend-annoyed look, and it’s so flirtatious, and Hannah wonders how it took them this long.

They eat on the back porch, sitting on the rocking bench and listening to the birds. It’s starting to get hot out, but the overhang from the house keeps them secluded in shade.

“How’d it go when you got home last night?” Hannah asks. “Did your parents know you were over here?”

“Yeah, I told them. My mom knows I’m here today, too.”

“Is she okay with it?”

Baker digs her toast into her eggs. “I think it’s going to take her a while,” she says evenly. “I’m trying to be honest without overwhelming her. I mean, I’m still trying to be honest with myself, too, so…”

Hannah wants to hold her hand again, but they’re both using their hands to eat. She settles for bumping Baker’s shoulder with her own instead. “We’ll go slowly, Bake. Everything’ll be okay.”

“Do your parents know I was here last night?”

“Joanie told them while we were out walking, but I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet. I’ll stage a little chat after they get home from work today, I guess.”

For a moment, Baker looks noticeably distressed.

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asks.

“Are your parents going to be okay with it? I mean, not just the girl thing, but…after I…did everything I did?”

“Baker,” Hannah says softly, “of course they will be. I didn’t give them all the details, but they know enough about the big picture, and they get it. You’re my best friend. They love you.”

“Okay.”

“How long are you gonna punish yourself for?”

Baker smiles self-consciously. “As long as you let me.”

“Look at me. Hey, look at me. I realize everything’s not going to be perfect right away, but do you even realize how much progress we’ve made? Everything’s going to be okay now, so we just have to forget the yucky stuff, forgive each other, and move forward. It’s good things from here on out. We just held hands on the couch for 15 minutes, remember?”

Baker lets out a small, grateful laugh. “I remember. How could I not, when yours was so sweaty?”

Hannah drops her mouth open, pretending to be deeply insulted. “You did not just say that.”

Baker hikes an eyebrow. “I think, Hannah-bear, that I did.”

Hannah stares her down, and Baker stares back, and eventually Hannah has to break eye contact because looking into Baker’s dark brown eyes for so long makes her feel lightheaded and drunk. She shakes her head and steals the last bite of Baker’s toast instead.

Baker must know how she’s feeling. “Is this, like, equal parts amazing and terrifying to you?” she asks.

“100 percent.”

“Okay, good, me too.”

“You know what’s weird? When we get annoyed with each other, or have little mini-dramas or whatever, we’re going to have to find other people to play the best friend role to listen to us, since we’re each other’s best friends.”

Baker laughs. “Wanna know something weird? I’ve already had that thought.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Like, the next time you inevitably annoy me—” Hannah pretends to be insulted again; Baker teasingly mirrors her expression—“it won’t just be as my friend, it’ll be as my…well, I don’t know, we’ll figure that out…but I’ll have to call my brother or something, because I won’t be able to whine about you to you.”

“I’ll just whine about you to Joanie,” Hannah says.

Baker laughs. “Can’t wait,” she says, and then she sets their empty plates on the ground and grabs for Hannah’s hand, unabashedly playing with her fingers and setting Hannah’s stomach hopping again.

Joanie wakes up soon after they go back inside. She trudges down to the kitchen, still bleary-eyed with sleep, and greets them with a dry, “Wow, I’m shocked to see y’all hanging out already. How long did that take?”

“Shut up,” Hannah tells her. “Baker made you eggs.”

“Ugh, I love you, Baker,” Joanie says, pulling a stool up to the counter. “Even more than Hannah does.”

“Shut up,” Hannah says again, rolling her eyes, but she can’t help smiling when she sees the look on Baker’s face.

“Oh, lord,” Joanie says, looking put-upon at Hannah’s reaction, “this is gonna be the longest summer ever. This is a million times worse than when y’all were best friends.”

“We’re still best friends, idiot,” Hannah says.

“Yeah, but now you’re all in love, too,” Joanie says with distaste.

Both Hannah and Baker blush, trying not to look at each other, but to Hannah’s surprise, Baker responds.

“We’ll do our best to hide it from you,” she says, pouring Joanie a cup of coffee, and Joanie’s relaxed laugh is one of Hannah’s favorite things that day.

They decide to get out of the house, which means Hannah has to change out of her pajamas. Baker comes upstairs with her and stands in her doorway for a long moment, gazing into the room, until Hannah bumps her shoulder and asks, “What?”

“I haven’t seen your room in forever.”

It’s another one of those moments where they could slip into the bad stuff – into heartbreak and apologies and regret – but, maybe because of the conversation they just had on the back porch, they don’t go there. Instead, Baker squeezes Hannah’s hand, looking knowingly at her, until Hannah smiles and pulls them both into the room.

Baker sits on the bed while Hannah rummages through her drawers, pulling out clothes. It’s familiar as anything, except that Hannah’s not sure how to change in front of her now. Should she just turn into the corner? Go into the bathroom? Should she make a joke that Baker’s seen her naked before so none of it matters anyway? Somehow, that last one doesn’t feel right; something in her knows they have to work their way back up to that intimacy.

Baker decides for her. “I won’t look,” she says, angling her body away and distracting herself with her cell phone.

Even that feels intimate, because it’s an acknowledgment that they consider each other’s bodies differently than they did before. Hannah pulls her clothes on quickly, her nerves humming just from the awareness that Baker is there in the room with her.

She sits next to Baker on the bed when she’s finished. Baker looks up from her phone right away, smiling warmly at her.

“My favorite shirt,” Baker says, fixing the tag on Hannah’s collar.

Hannah laughs. “The fact that you have a favorite shirt of mine probably should’ve been a big hint.”

“Seriously. This feels like learning the truth of a murder mystery and then going back and seeing how it was so obvious all along.”

“Did you just compare us to a murder mystery?”

“Don’t overanalyze it.”

Hannah feels the question coming out before she can stop it – a question she’s debated since the night of Baker’s fall – and for a split-second she worries it’s too much. But they’re calm, they’re on the same wavelength, and it feels like part of the healing process to dissect these things anyway, so she allows herself to ask.

“When did you know?”

She expects Baker to look away, but she doesn’t; instead she holds Hannah’s eyes, her expression thoughtful.

“After Tyler’s party in Destin,” she says, much quicker than Hannah anticipates. “When you—um—” she blushes—“when you kissed me in the garage. I chocked it up to a fluke before that, but after that second kiss, it was… I mean, my whole rationalization fell apart. After that, I just knew. I could feel it in my gut.”

“Yeah.”

“But looking back, there were times before that when it should have been obvious. Like last summer, when you told me about kissing Wally on the dock, I was so jealous I just wanted to hit something, but I didn’t even realize that’s what it was.” She shakes her head, scowling. “Even thinking about it now makes me jealous.”

Hannah laughs a deep belly-laugh. “Really?”

Baker rolls her eyes. “Don’t get a big head, Han. When did you know?”

“Mardi Gras.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I tried to rationalize it, too, but I wasn’t very good at convincing myself.”

Baker is silent for a long moment. Hannah waits.

“We’ve been through some shit,” Baker says baldly.

Hannah laughs hard again, not least because it’s uncharacteristic of Baker to curse. “Yeah. Yeah, we have.”

“Can I take you to lunch to make up for it?”

“Like a date?” Hannah teases.

Baker shakes her head like she can’t believe what a pain in the ass Hannah is, but she’s blushing and smiling bigger than ever. “Yes, Hannah, like a date. A day-date.”

“You’re so forward, Baker. First you hold my hand, now you want to buy me lunch…”

Baker springs off the bed, holding her hand out to pull Hannah up, too. “Come here,” she says.

Hannah’s stomach coils. She allows Baker to pull her up, and for a heart-stopping second she thinks they might kiss, but all Baker does is pull her close and wrap her arms around her.

It takes Hannah a second to loosen up, but when she does, it feels like she’s melting into Baker’s embrace. Baker’s hands are gripping the back of her t-shirt, holding her tight.

“I love you,” Baker says suddenly, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “I just wanted to say that again, now that I can.”

Hannah has to catch her breath; she feels like whole body is lit up with electricity. “I love you, too,” she says, her own voice sounding new and different.

Baker steps away, looking shy and self-conscious. “Um. Zeeland?”

“Zeeland,” Hannah agrees.

It’s the first time she’s been in Baker’s car in ages, and the realization hits her with a bittersweet jab to her stomach. The interior smells like vanilla air freshener, just as it always has, and the cup holders and dashboard are as clean and spotless as ever.

“I missed your car,” Hannah says as they drive under the tall, towering trees.

Baker shoots her a sad smile. “You have no idea how many times I wished you were in that exact spot.”

They sit in their favorite booth at Zeeland, stealing bites of collard greens and sweet potato soufflé off each other’s plates, and the only thing that feels different is that a junior from their school is sitting several booths over with her mom and is clearly trying not to look at them. Hannah feels knots in her chest, wishing their first outing together didn’t have to involve running into someone they know, and she can tell Baker’s wishing the same thing.

“We can go, if you want,” Hannah tells her.

“No,” Baker says resolutely. “I mean, not unless you want to. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just feels weird.”

“Yeah, feels like I’m outside my own skin.” Baker frowns for a second, but then she looks up at Hannah and her face softens. “But this is what I want, so…small price to pay.”

Hannah’s stomach whirs again.

They go to the bookstore after that, sticking close to each other in the aisles even as they lose their attention in different books. Hannah is absorbed in the first few pages of a Zadie Smith novel when she feels Baker brushing up behind her, peering over her shoulder. For a second Baker just hovers there, right at her side, and then she runs her hand over Hannah’s waist almost like she can’t help it, like she was compelled to touch Hannah in some way. It only lasts for a second, but it sets Hannah’s whole body on fire.

“You’re kind of a flirt, Bake,” Hannah tells her in the parking lot.

Baker laughs brightly. “Had a lot of stored up energy, I guess.”

On the drive back to Hannah’s house, as Hannah’s rambling about which new novel she wants to read first, Baker reaches for her hand again. It takes Hannah by surprise as much as it had on the couch that morning, probably because holding hands in the car feels so goddamn grown-up, and she shuts up instantly.

“Is this okay?” Baker asks in an uncertain voice, glancing over at her.

Hannah’s stomach is swooping and dancing all over the place. Another daring impulse comes over her, and she kisses the back of Baker’s hand before she loses her nerve.

Baker blushes scarlet again, and it’s clear she’s fighting a smile.

Joanie’s either not there or holed up in her bedroom when they get home. The house is quiet and still except for the hum of the air conditioner.

“What do you wanna do?” Baker asks.

“I have to water the flowers,” Hannah says, remembering the chore her dad had given her for the week, “and then how about we watch a movie?”

“You got it. I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Hannah,” Baker says, grabbing her wrist playfully, “how many years have you been telling me that, and how many times do I have to tell you that I want to help?”

“I know you do,” Hannah laughs, tugging her hand to lead them out on the porch, “but I have to say it anyway.”

Watering the flowers takes no more than five minutes, and before Hannah’s even done, Baker has ducked into the house and come back with two tall glasses of water for them to drink. They sit on the porch steps, the hose curled up next to Hannah’s feet, the sun hot on their hair.

“I love summer,” Baker says, staring out at the yard. “Even though it’s ridiculously hot and humid all the time, it’s like the flowers and trees don’t give a damn and decide to keep blooming anyway.”

Hannah feels a sudden rush of happiness as she lets everything settle over her: the lush, green yard and the tall, gnarled oaks and the wonder of Baker sitting there beside her. She sets her water glass down and scoots closer to Baker, knocking her knee and taking one of her hands into her own.

“This is gonna be our best summer yet, I can tell,” Hannah says.

Baker looks over at her, smiling the same kind of smile that Hannah feels in her chest. For a second they just look at each other, and Hannah knows they’re feeling the same thing: overwhelming gratitude and awe.

Then Baker reaches over and brushes Hannah’s hair back from her neck, and chills erupt on Hannah’s skin. She looks into Baker’s eyes and sees that familiar yearning expression in them, and she knows exactly what Baker’s thinking.

“You can kiss me if you want to,” Hannah tells her. “You’re allowed.”

Baker reddens, but she doesn’t look away. “Yeah,” she says. “I’m still getting used to that.”

Hannah smiles lightly. “We have lots of time to get used to it.”

“It makes you nervous too, right?”

“Super nervous.”

Baker nods. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day, but I also…I don’t know…I don’t want to rush it. I want it to be special.”

“We don’t have to rush anything,” Hannah promises. “We have all the time in the world.”

Baker looks intently between Hannah’s mouth and her eyes, unabashedly taking her in. Hannah looks back at her, and the truth of her own words sinks in. For the first time, she knows they’re going to kiss and that she doesn’t have to feel anxious about it. It’s a drastic difference from the urgency she felt this past spring, when everything was frenzied and furtive and she couldn’t enjoy the simple luxury of just looking at Baker first. Now she can look at Baker as much as she wants, taking in her lips and her eyes and that fire in her expression, savoring her slowly and wholly.

They wait, and they wait, and then Baker doesn’t wait any longer. She leans in and kisses Hannah very, very softly, almost like she’s saying hello.

Hannah’s heart skips a beat. She kisses Baker back, just as softly, and when she pulls away Baker’s blushing again.

“Our first daylight kiss,” Hannah tells her.

Baker smiles. “Makes it pretty real, doesn’t it?”

“There’s no going back now.”

“It’s weird, like, that we can just do it if we want to.”

Hannah raises her eyebrows, unable to resist the joke, and Baker rolls her eyes and shoves Hannah’s arm.

“You’re the worst,” Baker tells her.

“Yeah, but you told me you love me, so.”

“I do love you,” Baker says easily, leaning in to kiss her again. Her kiss is bolder this time, like she’s truly letting herself do what she wants; she cups her hands along Hannah’s jaw so her kiss is even firmer, and Hannah reels from it.

“Jesus,” Hannah says, breathless, when Baker pulls away.

“No, I’m Baker.”

Hannah laughs out loud, feeling like she might combust from all the good things swirling inside of her, and Baker grins like she couldn’t be more pleased with herself.

“That was a total Hannah joke,” Baker says. “I knew you’d love it.”

“You were right. Come on, let’s watch a movie.”

Inside, in the welcome air conditioning, they settle on the couch and throw on an early-2000s rom com to keep them company. For the first few minutes they sit there quietly, not in a charged way like they had that morning, but in a relaxed and worn-in way that feels comfortable and right. They reach for each other’s hands automatically, like it’s something they’ve been doing for years rather than hours.

Ten minutes into the movie, Hannah asks a question.

“Do you care if I lie down?”

Baker only smiles at her.

Hannah had meant that she wanted to lay her head in Baker’s lap, but Baker comes up with something better: she gestures for Hannah to lie on her side, and seconds later Baker is lying down behind her, with her arm wrapped over Hannah’s stomach, spooning her. It might be Hannah’s favorite thing yet.

“My stomach keeps swooping,” Hannah admits.

Baker buries her face in Hannah’s neck; Hannah can feel her lips on her skin. “Mine, too,” she sighs.

“Are you tired?”

“No. A little.”

“Take a nap, Bake.”

Baker holds her tighter, but after a few minutes her arm loosens and her breathing evens out. Hannah listens to her sleep, feeling her chest rising and falling against her back, and Hannah’s stomach is never going to calm down.

When Baker wakes up sometime near the end of the movie, Hannah rotates in her arms until she’s looking into her eyes. She brushes her fingers against Baker’s hairline, where the cuts from her fall are finally starting to fade.

“How do you feel?” Hannah asks.

“Safe,” Baker says, rubbing her eyes. “And happy.”

“Me too. Crazy happy.”

Baker touches Hannah’s face, trailing a finger across her cheek, down her nose. She hesitates, and then she smooths her thumb against Hannah’s bottom lip. They both blush. They both smile.

“I can’t believe I’ve kissed you,” Baker says. “And I can’t believe I can do it again, like, whenever I want.”

“Yeah, and we can feel good about it.”

“You know what’s funny?”

“Hm?”

“Kissing you those few times—before last night, I mean—it was always amazing, but—when we weren’t talking, when I was trying to stop myself from liking you—it was the rest of your face I wanted to kiss more than anything.”

“The rest of my face?”

“Hear me out. I got to kiss you, right, but it was always…I mean…it was like a hook-up. We were always drunk. But I wanted to kiss you like I loved you, even if I couldn’t admit it. I wanted to kiss your forehead and nose and eyes and—I don’t know, Hannah, sometimes I’d imagine it and just feel all these butterflies in my stomach.”

Hannah thinks she might melt right then and there. “I know what you mean. Even after—um—all the stuff we did at the beach—I just kept thinking about holding you.”

Baker’s eyes are sad but loving. She pulls Hannah close and kisses her eyes, nose, and cheeks, slowly and carefully, like Hannah is something precious. “I love you,” she says softly.

Hannah’s throat feels thick, and she knows her eyes are watering. Baker smiles knowingly at her.

“Don’t be smug,” Hannah tells her.

Baker just smiles more. She traces Hannah’s lips again, and the look in her eyes is so open, so loving, that Hannah can’t help it: she presses close and kisses Baker in a slow, languid way, not like a hook-up, but like she loves her.

When she draws back, Baker’s eyes are still closed, like she’s trying to hold onto the kiss.

“Do that again,” she whispers.

So Hannah does.

They never venture into full-on making out—Hannah knows, instinctively, that they’re not quite ready to do that again—but for infinite minutes they lie there on the couch, holding each other close, gently kissing each other whenever they feel like it, and it’s the most miraculous feeling in the world.

Until they both have to pee, of course.

“You can go first,” Hannah tells Baker.

Baker smirks. “Chivalrous of you, Han.”

“Have to be. You’re not just my best friend anymore.”

Baker laughs as she pads off to the bathroom. “Let’s trademark that!” she calls behind her.

By that point, it’s well into the early evening, which means Hannah’s parents will be coming home soon. Hannah folds up the blanket and re-fluffs the couch pillows, figuring they might as well get a head-start on acting ‘normal’ around other people.

But then Baker comes back from the bathroom, loops an arm around Hannah’s waist, and kisses her cheek in the sweetest, tenderest way possible, and Hannah doesn’t think they stand a chance of acting normal ever again.

Her mom comes home first, lugging grocery bags in through the back door, and Hannah and Baker rush over from the counter to help her. Hannah knows Baker’s nervous about seeing her parents—she’s been distracted and fidgety for the last half-hour—but she also knows Baker wants to start things off right, and that means sticking around to talk to them even if she’s afraid.

Within five seconds of her mom handing over the grocery bags, Hannah can see Baker’s anxiety melt away, because the first thing Hannah’s mom does is smile and pull Baker into a hug. “We’ve been missing you around here,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

She holds Baker at arm’s length, examining her with genuine concern, and Hannah feels such a surge of love for her mom that she wonders how she’s still rooted to the floor.

“I’m feeling really good,” Baker grins. “Thanks, Mrs. Eaden.”

Hannah can tell her mom isn’t sure where the two of them stand, or how that might impact the dynamic they’re all used to with Baker, so Hannah takes the lead and says, “Mom, would it be okay if Baker stayed for dinner?”

“Of course,” Hannah’s mom says, and she looks a little nervous, a little unsure, but she covers it with a smile and a request that they set the table, and everything feels just as it always has.

When Hannah’s dad gets home from work, he does the most uncharacteristic thing ever and hugs Baker just like Hannah’s mom did. He doesn’t say much about it, but Hannah knows both she and Baker are more touched than her dad will ever know.

And then Joanie, of course, comes flouncing down the stairs and blurts out, “Oh, good! So everyone knows now!”, which makes Baker’s face burn and prompts Hannah’s parents to exchange uncertain looks.

“Thanks, Joanie, for your superb sense of tact,” Hannah says, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, Mom, Dad, um…Baker and I are…um…well, remember how you said you were praying for me to find love?”

Baker is positively scarlet now, and Hannah hopes she won’t kill her for this rather bold announcement.

But Hannah’s dad just chuckles and says, “I’m glad I don’t have to meet anyone new,” while Hannah’s mom’s way of dealing with it is to say, “Joanie, don’t embarrass them,” before she touches Baker’s shoulder briefly.

Hannah and Baker definitely don’t hold hands during dinner, and they don’t look at each other very often or very long, and Hannah’s parents are somewhat out of their element, but it’s still better than Hannah imagined. She can tell everyone’s going to need some time to get used to this - even Joanie, for all her bravado - but she feels strangely at peace about it.

After dinner, when Hannah’s parents go out to have a coffee on the back porch—with Hannah’s mom adding a very awkward and hasty “Don’t go upstairs…at least not until we figure out some new rules”—Hannah and Baker clean up the dinner dishes together, both of them more subdued than earlier in the day. Hannah knows Baker’s not mad at her for telling her parents, but she also knows she’s a little overwhelmed by it.

“Hey,” Hannah says, flicking water at her, “you okay?”

Baker takes her time drying a saucepan. “Praying for you to find love, huh?” she asks.

Hannah returns her half-smirk. “That’s literally what they said.”

“You really think they’re okay with this?”

“In theory, yeah. In practice? It’s gonna take some time.”

Baker nods. She tucks the saucepan away, then says, “It’s kind of funny that your mom told us not to go upstairs.”

“If she only knew…” Hannah says, “She would’ve told me not to go the beach this past April.”

“Hannah,” Baker says, looking away and blushing hard, and Hannah blushes too, and in that moment she feels the depth of her intimacy with Baker, the well of their shared secrets and private history.

“Sorry,” Hannah says, though she’s not. She flicks more water at Baker, just to keep the moment light.

They take a drive after that. They walk around the lakes, occasionally brushing arms, and Baker is so beautiful in the light of the setting sun that Hannah feels her heart in her throat every time she looks at her.

“We get to do this every day,” Hannah says, full of wonder.

“Can you believe it?”

“No, it’s surreal.”

“There’s so much more stuff to talk about, Han,” Baker says. “Good stuff, bad stuff…” She pauses. “Intimate stuff…”

Hannah swallows. The lingering echo of her joke in the kitchen stretches between them, and she knows they’re both back in that third-floor bedroom at the beach house, in the moment that turned everything on its head.

“It’s kind of insane, isn’t it?” she asks Baker. “That we’ve been together that way?”

Baker chances a look at her. “It makes me light headed just thinking about it.” She takes a deep breath. “It was the most incredible, most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”

Hannah can’t believe they’re actually talking about this. “Yeah, me too. It was like an out-of-body experience.”

Baker gives her a half-smile. “Kind of makes kissing seem like no big deal, doesn’t it?”

Hannah shakes her head. “No,” she says quietly, “kissing you feels like the biggest deal in the world. The other stuff is…I mean…we don’t even need to worry about it right now. Holding your hand this morning felt just as intimate and important as that stuff did, if not more so.”

Baker is silent for several paces. Then, in a bare voice, she says, “Hannah, I think you’re the most amazing, most loving person in the entire world. Do you know that?”

Hannah’s heart drums inside her. She turns to find Baker watching her with an open, dazzled expression on her face. “I think that about you, too, Baker,” she says.

Baker shakes her head in a daze. She smiles like she can’t help it.

“What?” Hannah asks, grinning.

“What do you mean, ‘What’? This has been, like, the best day of my life.”

Hannah squeezes her side, even though they’re out in the world for everyone to see. “Mine, too,” she says, “but I bet you tomorrow will be even better.”

They walk until darkness falls, and then Baker drives Hannah back to her house. She slides her gearshift into Park and looks over at Hannah, and suddenly she’s shy again.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous about kissing me goodnight,” Hannah says.

Baker doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course I am,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “You are, too, I can tell.”

“A little,” Hannah laughs. “But mostly I just don’t want to say goodnight at all.”

“Me neither. You know, it was kind of dumb of you to tell your parents about us. We could’ve gotten away with some sleepovers.”

Hannah groans. “We could’ve cuddled all night.”

“Yep. So think about that when you’re alone tonight.”

“Don’t be a brat,” Hannah laughs, reaching for her hand.

“Can I come wake you up tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“So…kissing…” Hannah says.

Baker laughs and squeezes her hand. “We’re so dumb. Like, I was just kissing you a few hours ago, but now I’m scared of it again.”

“Well, to be fair, you were the brave one last night, so…I’ll get this one.”

She leans over and kisses Baker, slow and lingering, until they’re both breathless.

“I love you,” she tells her.

Baker leans her forehead against Hannah’s. “I love you, too, Han. So much.”

“Have sweet dreams, okay?”

“You too, Hannah-bear.”

Hannah kisses her one more time, and just before she pulls away, Baker steadies her and kisses her eyes, one after the other.

“Love you,” she says again, in the softest voice Hannah’s heard yet.

And then Hannah scoots out of her car and stands by the backdoor to watch her go, smiling like an idiot but not even caring.

Her mom gives her a look when she comes inside. They hash out the new rules quickly, and it’s awkward and stilted and completely foreign to both of them, but it’s also everything Hannah could only dream of a few weeks ago. Before she heads up the stairs to her room, she hugs her mom in a way she hasn’t since she was a little kid.

“Thank you,” she tells her.

“I want you to be happy,” her mom says.

“I am,” Hannah says, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Upstairs, in the privacy of her bedroom, Hannah flops on her bed and lets every small miracle of the day wash over her. It was only a few weeks ago that she was nursing her broken heart between these four walls, but now she’s retreating into this space to savor all the beautiful little ways her heart is expanding.

She washes her face, she brushes her teeth, she slips on her pajamas and burrows into bed. And just when she’s about to settle in with a book or a TV show, her phone chimes with a text message, and she already knows who it’s from.

I love you, and I loved today, and I love that I’ll get to see you tomorrow.

Hannah closes her eyes, letting this feeling sweep over her, the whole sweet promise of Baker and their new relationship.

I love you more, she writes back. Sleep well, okay?

You too, Hannah-bear. Or should I say…You too, Not Just My Best Friend Anymore.

Hannah laughs aloud, the sound ringing in the darkness. When she finally falls asleep some hours later—after re-living every single moment she and Baker shared today—she cannot wait to wake up again.

...

(In case you missed it, here’s the other HNITS one-shot I uploaded yesterday. Takes place a month after the events of this one.)

#spent my entire Memorial Day weekend writing about these two idiots #and I regret nothing #HNITS one-shot #Her Name in the Sky #HNITS #here y'all #have all the fluff

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easkyrah · 8 years ago

Text

Elorcan Werewolf AU Part 4

I apologize if I put you to sleep. I’m in dire need of sleep myself.

“it’s hard to wake up from a nightmare if you aren’t even asleep”

Elorcan Werewolf 4

Six months later

Having Lory around almost fulfilled the absence of her pack. The dog was a menace to anyone she invited over, and Elide learned the hard way to not invite her business interests or corporate companions over.

Today, mercifully, was her day off. She was lazily sprawled across the couch, scrolling through all the romantic puns on twitter in event of Valentine’s day.

Aelin: I want to burn my mate’s nonexistent dick off.

Manon: No amount of magic could enlarge an already dead thing.

Rowan: You don’t hear my other consorts complaining.

Aelin: Mmhmm. Why am I wasting time on you when I should be preparing for my date my boyfriend’s holding?

Rowan: Since when do you have a boyfriend?

Chaol: Since you failed your mate.

Elide rolled her eyes. Manon had informed her later on that Aelin had paid Chaol, her past ex, to keep up the facade of the fake boyfriend to see if Rowan did indeed care about her. The only response she’d gotten was Rowan leaving the Fireheart Pack and storming back to the castle where the Princess Remelle awaited.

Aelin had decided to reject Rowan tomorrow, Valentine’s day. A symbol of the utmost love at its highest failure.

“I hate the moon goddess,” Elide moaned. “She paired me and Aelin with the worst.”

Lory lifted his head off the mattress, and scooted closer to her toes. Elide snuggled into the animal’s warmth, stroking his head.

“I mean, why do we have to be paired with unfaithful males? I want someone who will prove their love to me, but also someone who had proved their love to me.”

The dog jumped up onto the couch, snorting as Elide popped off the couch. He was so large that Elide wanted to check if he was overweight, but Lory had adamantly refused to go to the vet’s.

Letting out a sigh, Elide stroked Lory’s soft head. It took awhile for the beast to get used to Elide constantly petting him, but a few days later, all he did was demand attention, even when she was on a phone conference. When one client even asked for a date at the end, Lorcan had knocked her couch over.

Needless to say, she didn’t get the date.

But Elide was determined to go out on a date tomorrow, Valentine’s day. She deserved a chance at love. No mate was going to stop her.

Lory let out a huff, placing a massive paw on her thigh, almost as he were urging her to continue.

“His name is Lorcan,” Elide said, looking out the window. “He’s a Lycan. And apparently my mate. It’s weird, because he’s apparently almost as old as Manon. Isn’t it cradle-robbing?”

Lory let out a low growl, his ears twitching back — as if he disagreed.

“Anyways, if he really treasured a mate, he would have waited for her — like I waited for mine — only to find out that I wasn’t going to be his first. Ridiculous, isn’t it? Why am I still hung up over this?”

Lory gave her a stink eye that might as well said you should be hung up over this.

Elide heaved a giant sigh. “He’s probably at some she-wolf’s house right now.”

Lory let out a disgruntled snort, placing his snout directly between her breasts. Elide let out a squeak as the animal licked her collarbone, and snuggled against her. Five seconds later, when Elide started scratching the fur along his neck, a giant purr erupted from his throat.

Elide let out a screech in surprise, and slid out from underneath. Lory let out a discontented growl, and jumped off the couch, pacing in circles around her.

“Sometimes you really confuse me,” Elide said. She dusted off her jeans and headed to the closet. She needed to get ready for her blind date tomorrow Aelin had set her up for.

Elide slammed her fists against her work table, and rubbed her eyes. All the types of diseases were blurring her eyes, and she couldn’t even differentiate between the two main parasite branches of the mermaid currents.

Lory lifted off of his haunches and then placed his paws onto her knees. He rubbed his maw against her, repeating the motion. She loosed a breath, and closed her eyes. Instead of choosing a dress, she’d ended up studying her notes for her aquatic parasitic exam in three days.

“I don’t even know how I’m going to get a perfect sore!” Elide rolled off the chair and onto the floor. Lory immediately pounced onto her, settling himself over her prone form. She let out a giggle as Lory started licking her face, his tail wagging vigorously. She itched his ears, a satisfied sound emerging from Lory’s throat. “It’s sad. Valentine’s day is less than three hours away and I’m studying.”

Lory let out a noise that oddly sounded like a confirmation, but remained lying on top of her.

Elide lazily glanced at her open closet, staring at the hanging dresses. She only had one dress that wasn’t business related, and it was a provocative, short, and skimpy, her breasts nearly spilling out of the thin material. Manon had sent it to her a week ago, and Elide had immediately shoved it into the back corner of her closet.

Lory followed her line of vision and let out a questioning bark. Elide smiled and scratched his head reassuringly.

“I’m going to go to the grocery store. You seem to have a penchant for raw food. Be a good boy and I’ll buy you some.”

Lory let out a yip, and bounded off of Elide, galloping to the front door. He swerved to avoid knocking down the clay vase she had bought a day ago, and she crossed her arms, smiling fondly down at the animal that had become so essential to her life.

Elide opened the door and watched the animal bound towards the forest. She knew it wasn’t healthy to keep a large dog like Lory inside all day, so she had let him run loose for hours a day, trusting him to return.

He always did.

As soon as she pulled up along the gravel, Lory shot from the trees, bounding towards her and barking merrily. She smiled, and lifted the trunk open. Lory dutifully gathered the ends of the plastic bag in his mouth and carried the groceries inside.

Elide gathered the rest and slammed the trunk close. She was lucky that Ansel’s Assortment Store was open 24/7, even though the cashier hadn’t been happy to see her at 11:30 pm.

Elide glided up the porch and pushed passed the door. Lory was already pushing the containers of food out of the bags with his jaws. She smiled at her companion. She couldn’t imagine a life without him now. Maybe she didn’t need a mate nor a male if she had Lory. She started to realize she preferred things that didn’t talk and that she didn’t mind the silence the cabin gave her.

In fact, when Manon had visited once, the only sound that had pierced the house was the wind blasting down the chimney and slamming against her windows. Lory had always demanded to go out for his runs in the woods whenever company came over, even though she’d always wanted to introduce her pet to others, and she’d come to realize that her dog was as much as a hermit as she.

She set the foodstuff in their respective positions, and took the packaged raw meat out of its syringe wrap. “Here you go, Lory,” she hummed.

Lory wagged his tail in anticipation as she lowered the container to the floor. Her canine companion merely looked up at her as she washed her hands. “What is it?”

Lory moved away from the meat and brushed his nose against the bucket full of plums. He nudged it to her, rolling the fruit out onto the floor. Elide blinked. “Do you want me to eat, too?”

Lory nodded and pawed the plum near her feet closer. Grinning, Elide plucked it off the floor and rinsed it in the sink. Lory watched her the entire time and didn’t touch his own raw meat until Elide took her second bite. She ruffled his head as he greedily finished the remains of his food within record timing.

By the time they had finished, Elide had collapsed on her bed, Lory curled up at her feet. She smiled fondly at her companion, grateful that he had come into her life. Even though she had to buy a new bed that could stand his weight, she wouldn’t replace him with anything.

Elide yawned, and flopped over the bed. Her eyes widened and she hopped off the bed, not noticing Lory anywhere. As much as he hated to admit, she loved the animal’s warmth and security he seemed to bring.

Her clock drearily blared 8:00. Her date was supposed to pick her up at 9:00, for Hellas’s sake.

She quickly showered and scrubbed her teeth and face. Slipping into her slippers, she cursed Manon as she slipped into the black dress. After a moment’s thought, she tossed on a ruby red blazer that draped past her knees and switched her stilettos with black flats.

As she moodily tromped down the stairs for single’s awareness day, she spotted Lory eagerly panting at the bottom. He cocked his head as his eyes swept past her outfit, and a growl rising from his throat. Elide patted his head, and immediately stacked his food bowl. “Didn’t you eat around midnight last night?”

When she set the plate down, Lory refused to touch it, and clawed the edges of her blazer. Elide tried to unhook his abnormally large claw away from her blazer, but instead shrugged off the material, the sound of cloth ripping as her cover fell to the floor.

Lory let out a loud howl as he stared at the dress she was wearing. Elide immediately felt self-conscious and tugged the material down. “What?” she snapped. Seriously, was her dog bullying her into what to wear?

Lory closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling for twenty long seconds. When Elide was about to move to the pantry, Lory wagged his tail and bolted down the foyer. Smiling, she chased after her dog, and nearly slammed into the door as he abruptly stopped.

There, on the middle of her carpet, Lory had ripped open her bag of candied, valentine hearts. Her canine companion had laid out the pink hearts in an own heart formation with the candied enscript of be mine in the middle. The other colors dotted around the room in mini hearts and swirls, ribbons torn from the plastic bags hanging near the windows.

Lory blinked up at her.

A sob wrecked itself out of Elide and she rushed for Lory, burying her head into his chest. Lory let out a content noise and buried his own snout into her head, his tongue licking her neck.

“I’m yours.” Elide smiled faintly. “I love you, Lory.”

Lory barked, a noise of agreement. The satisfied sound easily turned into a low growl as the doorbell rang, and Elide sashayed away to greet her date.

#elorcan werewolf au #werewolf elorcan au #elorcan #elide x lorcan #lorcan x elide #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #lorcan lochan

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androgynousghostlyvoid · 8 years ago

Text

Meanwhile, It’s Calm⁽ᴾᵃʳᵗ ¹⁾: There’s A first Time For Everything

It's awkward waking up staring into the eyes of such a lovely person. Bucky stares at you for a very long time before looking anywhere else or saying anything. He seems to suddenly notice how long he's stared and unlocks his gaze from yours. His face was a bit pale but now it reddens as he looks away from you.

"Hello, Sargent Barnes. I'm Y/N. I'll be working with you for a while. I'll be a sort of liaison and personal care attendant. For now I'd like to ask, are you feeling well?" You ask.

"-eh hehm," Bucky clears his throat before speaking, "I'm ok. I think I'm.. ok..." He says quietly. You instantly love his voice. It's not the deepest voice, but there's something you like about it all the same. "How...how long...?"

"It's been about 6 months since you've been in cryosleep. We have some evaluations and examinations we would like to do, keeping a record of your health will help us greatly in helping you, Sargent Barnes." You explain.

"Sargent?" He rasps. 'She's cute, I like her.' He thinks. He says, "I think it's safe to say I am no longer enlisted, Y/N. Just call me Bucky."

"Oh!...uh I will, Mister...er, I mean Bucky." You blush and get weird goosebumps on the back of your head.

For a few days you help Bucky acclimate a bit before all the questions and physicals start. There is a suite in the hospital which was made ready in advance. It's more like a hotel suite. There are two rooms with separate bathrooms, the master bath having a big deep bath tub. There is a small kitchen area he calls the pantry. Separating the pantry and the living room is an island counter where you two eat most nights. You show him around and help him get comfortable. He is at first reluctant and overwhelmed after realizing you'll be doing his cooking and cleaning, helping him groom, helping him dress. You help arrange his many appointments over the next few weeks and offer details of his medical options.

One night, when you make dinner, you make seven layers nachos. Usually Bucky stays in the pallor on the other side of the island counter, but this time the smells wafting over to him make him curious. He comes over, sits at one of the stools near the island and watches you cook.

"I kinda feel like you get a taste of everything this way. Plus they're such a good way to eat veggies. Have you ever had this?" You say over your shoulder as you layer chips, meat, queso, Spanish rice, beans, salsa and sour cream on to a platter for the two of you to share.

He shakes his head and says, "No, but I'm ready to try it."

You set it on the island and use the amazon Echo to play soft rock music. You sit down to dinner and Bucky puts out his hand, "Humor me?" he asks.

You take his hand and he recites " 'Bless us oh, Lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ Our Lord, Amen.' Uhm, thanks Y/N, I know it's not customary these days, but old habits die hard."

"No problem, I don't mind helping you feel more at home." You say.

On another note you ask,"There's this restaurant in the states, Taco Bell. You ever had it?" You pick one of the loaded chips on you edge of the plate and pop it into your mouth. Some of your lettuce escapes before you eat, giving an embarrassed giggle you move it from the table to you napkin.

While you chew he answers. "I've heard of it, but not eaten there, I couldn't quite tell what they're selling. I mean, what's a gordida? A dorito taco?" He picks a chip, then looses some of his salsa on the trip from the table to his mouth. He seems a bit frustrated at his single hand.

You swallow your food and take a sip of the ice tea you made to go with dinner. "Hey, it's ok. This kind of meal is meant to be a bit messy," You say with a nod. "Well, they're supposed to serve stuff like this, kind of Americanized Mexican food. But it's terrible, so most people make these things at home if they want it to taste really good. We have a running joke that only people on the way home from bars truly like the food there."

He's tucking in with gusto now, not feeling so self-conscious about his arm. He eats a chip and says, "Why would anyone open a restaurant chain that sells bad food? Well, then again I've had my share of questionable meals whilst drunk and sober. Some of the things streetvenders sold back home..."Bucky wipes his mouth on his napkin and has a drink of tea.

You two finish up the nachos and you rinse the dishes and put everything in the dishwasher. Bucky doesn't leave the table, so you sit back down across from him.

When he starts to speak, you just listen.

"I didn't have to live with it when it happened before," He says gesturing to his left and flexing his shoulder on that side.

"As soon as I lost the first one, my real one, Zola put on that... the other one on right away. So I didn't have to live the reality of having lost a limb. And then...they did what they did to me and it didn't matter after that. I'm so...I don't know, confused, discouraged, " He sighs. "...this really hard."

"It may be hard but I'm sure you'll get through it, Bucky." You walk around the island and kneel at his side. You take his hand in yours and say, "You are a good person and I know that someday you can be fully deprogramed and will get to have what you want. Just please, believe in yourself. Believe in whatever it is Steve loves about you. He can't be wrong if he's been in your corner all this time."

He nods as if he's just decided something, takes in a deep breath and takes his hand from yours. He cups it softly around your left cheek. He leans in to kiss you with tears still stuck on his eyelashes. When your lips touch, something passes from you to him and you know quite suddenly you want to love this man. You press forward, accepting his kiss like mana from heaven. He lets out a little quiet moan and ends the kiss. He pulls his hand away slighty, as if questioning what he's doing.You take his hand in yours again and pull him up from the stool. You take him to bed.

You undress slowly with him. He does what he can, you help him with the rest. You tell him you keep lube, toys, gloves and condoms in the draw of the left night stand. He qives you a look filled with humor. "They told me to bring everything I need." You say seriously.

You draw him down to the bed with you and for a few minutes of passionate kissing, you close your eyes and see the proverbial fireworks going off. Then he slows down a bit and pulls away.

"I haven't...I haven't done this before..."He says quietly looking down.

"You're a viRGIN!!??" You squeal. The very idea makes you feel lucky and confident at the same time.

"What?!" He says, giving you a look of incredulity,"No, no-no, I mean my arm. I usually do things a certain way, but now, I.."

"Oh, right, sorry. I wasn't thinking with my head for a second, haha. Hey, don't worry, we'll take it slow and figure it out when we get there." You say to reassure him.

You climb on to his lap and kiss his chest, when you nip at his nipples lightly he writhes around under you and you can feel his stiffening cock pressing against the soft flesh of your vulva and clitoris. You suck in his left nipple and rock your hips slowly back and forth."Ah, yeah!" Bucky quietly. The feeling, it's a sweet and strong nectar that you both take in little by little. Soon you both breath heavily and moan aloud.

You sense him getting ready, getting started building the energy that will turn into an orgasm. You slow your rhythm and sit up. You change your position until you can take his glans into you mouth. You suck hard, making short up and down movements with your head while you hold his cock still with one hand and make stroking movements with your other hand that synchronize with you head.

From the first your tongue touched him, he's pressing his hips up to meet your mouth, eager to feel your wet warm lips around his cock. "Ohffu, ohmfuh, oh! God, yes baby, that's just right! Oh, please--, agh!"

You love making him feel good, it's making you wet. You release both hands and start letting your open mouth drift further and further down his shaft slowly. When your face is touching the soft bed of fur around the base of his penis, you slowly press further, as far as you can, keeping you tongue flattened and your jaws loose. You begin slowly coming back up and when you can see again, you see he's been watching you the whole time, you see he likes watching you do it. He's breathing from his open mouth and his eyes are half hooded. You do it again and again and again, slowly, always slowly.

You notice your saliva glands are producing so much spit. Using it as lube you take his shaft in both hands and begin an up and down stroking, moving from the elbow and with your hands make twisting motions, clockwise with one hand counter clockwise with the other. The slipperiness between your legs is on your inner thighs now, you are so hot, so excited.

"Oh, I gonna cum too soon, I won't be able to last, if we--" Bucky huffs out sharp gasps of air after each sentence.

"Why do men always think women only want to cum once?" You say in a quiet playful voice,"Oh, I want to make you cum many times, I want to do it till we can't any more."

You cover the head of his cock with your mouth and rub your flattened tongue over the slit there. When he cums you swallow it all, listening as he says,"Cumming in your mouth feels so good, I love this so much!"

When you sit up again he begins franticly trying to pull you up on the bed with his one hand. You scoot and crawl till he's leaning down trying to kiss your belly, your navel, your bush of soft pubic hair.

"How do you want me?" You ask.

You are shocked when he answers,"On my face! Sit on my face, girl. There's a nice seat for you, yeah. Oh, my God I want to taste you so much, come on, sit on my face and let me eat you!"

He scoots over on the bed so he's in the center and instructs you to face the headboard and rest a knee on each side of his head, so your crotch is just above his face. Bucky reaches, up caressing your right breast and while looking you in the eye begins to lick. His tongue is a bit cool and he's making rings shapes around and around your clit. It's such a tease, it's indirectly stimulating you and making you want more while at the same time making you slide further and further into bliss. So much so, you don't notice when you finally let go of self-consciousness and let your weight rest on his face. When you do, he says, "Ride my tongue, baby!!" and slips his tongue inside you and moves his hand down your body, beginning to rub your clit with his arm around the back of your thigh.

"Uh! Yeah! Bucky! Gah, ha!" You exclaim, drawing his name out in a long gasp, reaching out and taking the wooden headboard in both hands for leverage while you toss your head and arch your back. You can feel your hair brushing against your neck and shoulders. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your ecstasy begins to rise. You do as he asked, you rock back and forth, you roll your hips in big circles, you're just barely able to control yourself. From the waist down everything feels better than you've ever felt, no one has ever made you cry out this much or this loudly.

You don't want to cum too soon, you wan to feel what he's doing for a longer amount of time so you bridge your back and lean one hand down so you can stroke him. He takes his hand away and licks your clit. He bends his knees and pushes his hips up to your hand and when he moans while you jerk his cock, you can feel it vibrating and traveling through you. He makes you cum and soon you make him cum again too. You both cry out together, his is muffled, yours is loud.

You get up for some water for the two of you and when you come back he's got the night table draw open. He's sitting up against the headboard, sweaty hair in his face. He' s got an empty condom wrapper between his teeth and is carefully putting it on himself.

"I'm not done with you yet." He says between his teeth. It gives you an impression of vehemence which instantly makes your knees weak.

While you drink your water he tells you what he wants to do. While he drinks his, you move the blankets and pillows around so when he's ready Bucky can lean his left upper torso on them. After he gives you his glass, which you place on the nightstand and you lay down in front of him, your back to his chest. He lifts your right leg and places it on top of his right leg. He presses his hips forward, entering you while you lay in spooning position.

When he begins to move, his glans presses into you vaginal walls and it feels nothing you ever felt. His movement is slow and you rock in time with him pushing your pelvis back and down. "Oooh!! Yea! Just like that, Bucky!" You call out.

His hand slides back along your upper thigh, then forward on to your tummy, next up to your chest. He rubs his open palm over your breasts and then his hand drifts up to the side of your neck. He pulls you higher up on the pillows a bit and kisses your cheek softly, he kisses your temple next and then he takes your lower ear lope in his mouth and sucks gently. His breathing is a deep quiet panting, his warm breath brushing your face and neck. He moves his hand back down your body and cupping it over you vulva, begins to rub you with all four fingers flattened and kept close together. As he does you unknowingly tighten your pc muscles and he moans, "Huh! Uh-huhn! Uh-huhn!" into your ear as he pulls and pushes in and out of you.

You can feel the orgasm building again, but suddenly he says " I want to see you, I want to see when you cum. You're so beautiful, I want to see your face," pulling out and getting comfortable on his back then scooting up to sitting position.

You get on top and take his hand, lacing your fingers together. You begin moving from the knee, raising and lowering yourself on to his cock. You lean in and french kiss him, your tongues massaging one another as you move. You lean out of the kiss, bridging you back again and holding up your torso with both hands behind you on the bed. This way you have more balance and you go faster.

"Oh, yes, give it to me! Fuck me, fuck me!" Bucky says, caressing your body again and bucking his hips hard into yours when your bodies come together. You close your eyes, you let your head hang back. His roaming hand returns to your breast and this time he squeezes your left nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger. Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to drive to you scream with pleasure. He pulls on it until it slips from his grasp over and over. He bathes in the noises you make each time he does it. He takes your other nipple after and rubs it between his fingers just as hard as he was pulling the other. You respond by quickening the pace.

"Bucky, I'm gonna cum!" You hear yourself saying. He puts his arm around your waist, pulls you close pressing you against his chest and he bends his head forward to your left nipple and starts licking it. It's so sensitive, there's a blast of pleasure from it. You cum after a few passes of his wet slippery tongue.

"Keep going, baby, please, keep going...keep fucking me!" He says still holding you tight. He presses his face between your breasts and you can feel him licking the soft cool skin there. So instead of slowing, you follow his pace, getting faster with every thrust. You are hyper sensitive after orgasm and it takes all the will you have to stay on his lap. You cum again, this time there is a huge warm sensation flooding out of you. Then he cums too. He pants, "Ha! Ha! Ha!" on each exhalation.

#bucky smut #Bucky #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #mcu #mcu smut #recovering!Bucky #my bb stuff

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deafblindblast · 5 years ago

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99 Ways to Add Mindfulness to Your Day

Link: https://www.thegoodtrade.com/features/mindfulness-exercises?rq=mindfulness

***Few edits on this article to fit DeafBlind audience. Enjoy!

Small Steps For Feeling Grounded

The world feels uncertain right now—with quarantines and social distancing from the COVID-19 pandemic, we’re all feeling a bit untethered. All in need of a few deep breaths and a practice that keeps us rooted in ourselves. Enter: mindfulness.

Mindfulness is presence, embodied awareness, and connection to our experiences of the world around us. It doesn’t require hours of meditation each day; it does, however, require constant and conscious decisions to remain present in each moment.

Practicing mindfulness isn’t just for the privileged, either. It’s not always prescriptive, and your mindfulness might look different than someone else’s. Let’s hold space for each other as we all focus on connecting more deeply to ourselves and those around us.

We’ve pulled together 99 moments that offer themselves up to our awareness, and allow us to practice a little mindfulness no matter where we’re at.

Mindfulness In The Morning

1. When you wake up in the morning, do a body scan. Identify any sensations, comfortable or uncomfortable. Wiggle your toes. Lick your lips. Practice being present in your body.

2. Make your bed and mist it with water and eucalyptus essential oil. (At night, use lavender essential oil instead.)

3. Step outside to breathe the fresh air and get a sense for what the day may bring.

4. Make french press coffee. Grind whole beans with a non-electric grinder for a tactile experience. If you prefer tea, steep loose leaf in a teapot.

5. Hand-wash your mug when you’re done using it.

6. Meditate in the shower. Focus on the smell of the soap and how the warm water feels on your skin.

7. Light a candle and set an intention as you get ready in the morning. How do you feel today?

8. While brushing your teeth, identify one goal for the day.

9. Instead of rushing to the next task, wipe down the sink after you’ve washed your face or applied makeup.

10. Do small favors for your after-work self; in the morning, unload the dishwasher, take out the trash, turn on a diffuser.

11. Stick affirmations on your mirror or write them on labels of products you regularly use, like lotion or chapstick. Recite them aloud, and update them when it feels right.

12. If you take daily medicine or multivitamins, pour yourself a little extra water and drink it quietly as you reflect on what those medicines or supplements allow you to do.

13. Read a transcript to a news podcast instead of checking social media. Opt for reading too.

14. Place your hand on an object you use every day—your coffee maker, your car, your laptop. Extend a moment of gratitude for the object and what purpose it serves in your life.

Mindfulness In Your Routine

15. Wash your produce and rinse your rice slowly and thoroughly as you settle into the rhythm of cooking and nourishing yourself.

16. Eat without media distractions.

17. Practice mindful eating; pay attention to how food tastes and feels on your tongue. Experience how a warm mug curves gracefully in your palms.

18. Fold your laundry neatly and thoughtfully before you put it away; you can try Marie Kondo’s technique, or embrace one that is fully your own.

19. Water your plants. Wipe down their individual leaves.

20. As you move about your home, ask yourself, “Am I using everything in this drawer?” Set yourself up for flow by seasonally rearranging your rooms to match your lifestyle. If there’s a kitchen tool that’s always in your way, move it to a lower drawer or pantry, so you only see the daily essentials.

21. Visit the library and borrow a book. Stay awhile and browse the shelves. Turn over the books in your hands, read a few pages. Allow yourself space for curiosity.

22. Feel the music instead of turning on the television.

23. Ground yourself by scrubbing kitchen counters or the bathtub. Pause. Lean back and take in the sight with gratitude and respect for the home that helps sustain you.

24. Hand-wash a garment. Feel the warm water on your hands, hang the garment gently on a drying rack.

25. Turn lights on as you enter rooms, inviting one positive thought with the light. Turn them off when you leave, reminding yourself to release negative thought patterns.

26. When reaching for another cup of coffee or a glass of wine, fill your cup with water instead. Drink it down with a reminder to care for yourself.

27. Replace your usual screentime with a different craft or screen-free hobby.

28. Pick out an outfit for tomorrow, and make sure it’s clean, steamed, or ironed as needed. Hang it up.

29. At the end of the night, spare a minute or two to sip herbal tea and reflect on the day without judgment.

30. Read a poem or passage aloud. Read slowly. Feel each word.

31. While you brush your teeth at night, identify one success from the day.

Mindfulness At Work Or Out In The World

32. Focus on your breathing while you are driving, walking, or commuting.

33. Commute in silence. Don’t try to fill the quiet with noise to avoid discomfort; find peace in the stillness of your choice of transportation.

34. Engage yourself in a new way by driving, walking, or biking a different route to work.

35. Allow yourself to doodle while planning your day. If your hand wants to wander into an abstract squiggle, let it.

36. Keep a Bullet Journal, an all-encompassing space for to-do lists, note-taking, calendars, and random thoughts. Give yourself freedom from mental overcrowding. As soon as something (anything) crosses your mind, jot or type it down.

37. If you sit at a desk, check in with your posture to make sure you haven’t absentmindedly started hunching over. Keep your wrists in a neutral position when possible. Maybe it’s whenever you hit “send” on an email or whenever you notice the hot pink sticky note on your computer.

38. Take a moment to stretch your vision and look away from your screen. What is the farthest thing you can see?

39. Go for a walk on your lunch break and breathe in the fresh air.

40. Schedule out time to check your emails and Slack messages. Remove any popups or notifications on your desktop to prevent distractions.

41. Use bathroom breaks to enjoy a few moments of quiet. Maybe do some light stretches in the restroom and check in with how your body is feeling.

42. Close extra browser tabs to remind you to focus on the task at hand.

43. Each time you switch tasks, write down the timestamp and what you are doing.

44. If you are in a place you go every day, feel and notice one thing that you’ve never noticed before.

45. Shut your computer down at the end of the day to signify the end of work. Wipe down your keyboard.

46. Go on a walk without a destination. Leave your phone at home.

47. When you’re walking, keep your head up. Focus on the heel-to-toe movement of your steps.

48. Stop and smell the flowers. Reach out and touch a leaf or a tree trunk. Experience the joy of running your hands or bare feet through grass and earth. Indulge your senses with nature.

49. If possible, feel for loose change on the ground as you walk. Or, look for birds. Or skateboarders. Or blue cars. Focus on one element to keep your mind from wandering into the future or dwelling on the past.

50. Set a budget. Use cash to pay for items so that you always see how much you have left.

51. Set checkpoints throughout the day to check in on how you feel. Name the feeling and acknowledge it: is it worry? Is it stress? Is it hope? No need to implement solutions; simply recognize your feelings.

Mindfulness With Others

52. Hug your partner, friend, or pet for 30 seconds. Sign sweet affirmations to them.

53. Pause to leave a thoughtful, positive comment on a friend’s Instagram or Facebook. Direct messaging works, too.

54. If you’re wearing or using something you particularly love, email or tag the brand to thank them for their work. Do this especially for independent artists and makers.

55. Tell your partner what you most want to hear from them today. And then say it to yourself as well.

56. Say “no” when your schedule is hectic or when you’re feeling close to burnout. Respect your calendar and take an evening for yourself every once in a while. Don’t be afraid to make plans weeks out in advance.

57. Tell your co-workers or team that you are thankful for their work. Thank your barista for making you a delightful cup of coffee and your mail carrier for delivering your package. Just thank someone.

58. When you are prompted to pass judgment on someone, especially in conversation with others, ask yourself if there’s another perspective to consider. Think twice before engaging in gossip.

59. Inform yourself about slurs and ableist language. Find alternatives for those words and phrases. Embrace it as an opportunity to do better, to learn, to grow.

60. Make contact with people you are communicating with.

61. Pause for something silly—text a gif to a friend, tell your partner a joke, or dance it out in your kitchen. Embrace lightheartedness, even if just for a moment.

62. Practice mindfulness with your kids through play, or take a moment to ask them what the happiest moment of their day was.

63. Instead of asking the same old “how are you?”, ask someone, “what was the best part of your day?” or one of these other questions. Resist the automatic.

64. Practice mindful listening.

65. If you experience overwhelm or stress because of customers or co-workers, practice loving-kindness meditation. Remind yourself to act from a place of love—whether it’s when you respond or how you remove yourself from difficult people.

66. Be direct about your needs. Invite others to be direct with you. There is mindfulness in clarity and direction.

Mindfulness Alone—With Tech

67. Set reminders on your phone to check in on your hydration throughout the day. Take a moment to fill your water bottle, take a sip, and breathe deeply.

68. Turn off push notifications and badges on your phone. (Except your hydration check-ins!)

69. Schedule your media consumption in advance. Are you in the middle of re-watching “The Office”? Put one or two episodes on the calendar for the evening to avoid the endless Netflix spiral.

70. Play a video game that is soothing and helps you achieve a flow state.

71. Before posting something to social media, ask yourself why you feel it’s important to share. If it’s in search of external validation, take a moment to validate yourself instead.

72. Unfollow accounts that make you feel bad about yourself. The media we consume nourishes us, for better or for worse. Occasionally follow new accounts that feel healthy and supportive.

73. Delete Instagram or other distracting apps from your phone when you’re feeling overwhelmed; you can reinstall later.

74. Each time you’re tempted to visit Facebook or Twitter out of boredom, open a note and jot down the thoughts buzzing in your brain. This helps delay checking out old high school crushes and gives you a chance to check in with the “why” behind the urge.

75. If you come up against a non-urgent question, make a note of it and Google it later if it’s still pressing.

76. If you’re overwhelmed with content, choose one piece to read a day.

77. Listen to your favorite song and think deeply about it. What do you like about it? Is it the sound of the singer’s voice? The gentle bass bubbling in the background? The spunky snare?

78. Change your phone and desktop background to a calm reminder. While you’re at it, organize your docs and apps in a way that allows you to use your tech more mindfully.

79. Use a meditation or breathing app.

80. Create playlists for each part of your day: getting ready, commuting, working, cooking, winding down with a book in the evening. Set the mood and the intention for each action.

81. Go on a photo walk—use your phone to take pictures of beautiful flowers, sights, and other things that brighten your day. You don’t have to share these photos.

Mindfulness Alone—Without Tech

82. Meditate. Keep your mind from wandering by focusing on how the air of your inhales and exhales literally feels against your nose. (It’s often cold for the former, warm for the latter.)

83. Carry a “wallet poem.” Print or write out a poem that you’d like to reflect on and keep it in your wallet or phone case to read when you’re waiting for something.

84. Set aside time (maybe put it on your to-do list) to practice small maintenance rather than cramming it in. Clipping your nails, shaving, trimming nose hairs, applying a face mask.

85. Start a journal. Whether it’s a gratitude journal or a daily diary, note how you feel and how you’re experiencing the world.

86. Whenever you see or feel something soft, take it as a reminder to soften. Unclench your jaw, release sharp thoughts, lower your shoulders. Remind yourself that you, too, are a soft creature.

87. Apply hand lotion, and massage it into your fingertips and palms. If it’s scented, take deep breaths and enjoy the fragrance.

88. Invert yourself. Get your head below your heart in a handstand, forward bend, or hanging backward off the bed. It’s a playful posture and a reminder that you don’t have to be so serious all the time.

89. Pull tarot cards, consult your horoscope, connect to a passage in a religious text—look for input from outside resources. These nurture our inner voice, and the wisdom will stay on-hand for when we need it.

90. Ask yourself what you need right now. Is it a bath? A kind word? A cup of water? Get in the habit of asking often. And when you can, deliver.

91. Identify one thing to smile about right now. Maybe it’s a precious dog outside your window, the way the sunlight hits the floor, or a long-missed dust bunny in the corner.

92. Make a list of things you are good at, ways you bring value to others, compliments you have received, times that you feel happiest. Add to it; reflect on it; celebrate it.

93. When you feel frustrated about something, re-frame it with gratitude, empathy, or patience. Ask yourself when you feel tension growing—is there another way to view this situation?

94. Practice yoga geared towards mindfulness. Pair a yoga class with a meditation session. Yoga with Adriene has free classes you can practice at home.

95. How deep is your breath right now? If it’s shallow or you’re feeling stressed, use one of these simple breathing exercises.

96. The 54321 grounding technique can invite you back into your body. Focus on 5 things you can see, 4 things you can hear, 3 things you can feel, 2 things you can smell, and 1 thing you can taste.

97. Pause when the sunshine hits your face. Embrace its warmth. Pause when the wind hits your face. Embrace its chill.

98. Look for instances of your favorite color in the world. Pick a new color each day, or stick with the same color and look for new and surprising pops of it wherever you can.

99. Write a note to yourself about a recent accomplishment or moment that you surprised yourself. Revisit it later on a day you need a little encouragement.

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killersoflycans · 8 years ago

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A Bundle of Joy ll Part 2

“Daisy, love, it’s time to wake up.” Daisy let out a groan and buried her face into the pillow she was curled up around. Two months had passed since they found out about the life growing within her, and she had both physically and emotionally changed in that time. She was never stick thin to begin with but now the slightest bump was becoming visible. Her breasts were becoming more tender to the touch as well, to her displeasure. She was also a lot more emotional than she had been in the past, not to mention tired. When she wasn’t attempting to feed, but failing as her body tried to remove it from her system, she was sleeping.

“Come on Daisy, we have the ultrasound today.”

That was enough to get Daisy to at least lift her head and ‘hmph’ at him before getting up. She was tired of her constant appointments to the healers, but knew they were important. Few vampires survived childbirth, and if Daisy was even going to have a shot, she needed as much care as she could get. Even if it meant she wouldn’t be able to get nearly as much sleep as she wanted.

As she stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth, she heard Zach chuckle. Her eyes rolled as she looked at herself in the mirror, jumping some when he appeared in the doorway and spoke.

“You know you’re glowing.” Zach stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned forward to spit and began to rinse her mouth to avoid responding. As much as she would try to deny it, she knew it was true. Every time she looked in a mirror, she saw that pregnancy glow about her. She wished she could say she hated it, but it made Zach even more attracted to her if she thought it was possible. “Hurry up and get ready, love.”

“I’m moving as fast as I can.” She turned around, moving to press their lips together in a soft kiss. “But having you here is quite distracting.” She slipped from his grasp and returned to their room to put on clothes. She had been told to wear something a little loose to this so they could easily roll it up and get access to her stomach. She ended up grabbing a tank top that was still leather but a little loose fitting and a pair of jeans. As she was pulling her boots on, she saw Zach pulling on one of his more casual shirts.

“Ready to go?” He offered his hand to her, which she ignored as she stood up. He shook his head with a slightly amused grin and stepped out the door of their room. Daisy was following right behind him as they walked to the infirmary.

As they walked through the door, they were greeted by Michael, standing there with a smile on his face. “Daisy, Zach,” He greeted before gesturing for them to follow him. “How have you been feeling Daisy? Have you been able to feed lately?”

“No,” Daisy��s tone was clipped, as if she was fed up with saying this over and over again. “I have barely kept any blood down in weeks. This damn... parasite hasn’t let me.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zach flinch at the tone she used and the word ‘parasite’ but she wouldn’t apologize. At the moment, that was how she felt about their child.

Michael breathed out a soft sigh as he lead them into a room with a machine set up for ultrasounds. “We’ll see if there’s a way that you’ll be able to keep blood down.” He said as she stepped over to prepare the machine for use. “Daisy, I need you to lay down on the table and pull your pants down just a little and roll your shirt up to your breasts.”

Daisy stepped away from Zach to go and lay down on the table. She did what was asked, exposing her belly to the room. Michael walked over with a bowl of a weird gel before moving to spread up around on her belly. A shiver ran up her spine, the gel cold even on her already frozen skin.

“You two ready to see your baby for the first time?” Michael asked, his gaze on the mated couple.

“Sure.”

“Of course.”

Zach glanced down at Daisy, who was tense. The tone that they both confirmed being ready was so different. Zach was enthusiastic, ready to see the life he had created with Daisy. Daisy was a lot more hesitant, closed off and blunt. Michael could see the difference, but went ahead and rubbed the wand against Daisy’s stomach, flicking the switch to turn the screen on so they could see.

“That’s your baby.” Michael’s voice was warm, the smile on his face reaching his eyes as he showed the couple their baby for the first time. At first, it was a little blurry and looked like nothing more than a blob, but the more Daisy and Zach looked, the more the features became defined and the more they could see that the picture was in fact their child.

Where Daisy knew she should feel warmth, feel excited, she just sort of felt cold. That was her and Zach’s kid right there, but she didn’t really feel anything towards it. Just a sort of cold indifference that worried her. Zach, on the other hand, was looking at the picture with such adoration and happiness.

“We really made a baby, Daisy. This is really happening.” He said, smiling down at his mate, and it took everything she had to force a smile back towards him. She didn’t want him to see the fact that she just wasn’t happy or excited. That she was just numb. Zach turned to face Michael.

“Judging by your baby’s size, I estimate that you’re about twelve or thirteen weeks along. I don’t think I can tell you what your baby’s sex is right now.” Michael was staring at the picture with his brows furrowed in concentration. “I have an idea but I don’t know if it’s accurate.”

“That’s fine, I think we want to be surprised.” Zach told Michael with a warm smile. It had been something the two of them had discussed a few days prior, one of the few conversations they had about their child. They agreed to be surprised by what they were having. “Is it possible for us to hear our baby’s heartbeat?”

Michael nodded and pulled out another, smaller device before starting to rub it against the small curve of her bump. “I just need to be able to find it...” After a few minutes where Daisy actually thought her heart would stop. Everything had seemed fine in the picture, but what if something happened. She always knew she wasn’t cut out to be a mother. Zach would be so-

A sound, starting out soft but gradually going louder, began to come from the device in Michael’s hand. It sounded like helicopter blades, but by the look Daisy saw in Michael’s eyes, she knew that was her child’s heartbeat. “It sounds about right, about 150-155 beats per minute.” After he affirmed that everything seemed normal, he fell silent to let the expecting parents listen to their child’s heartbeat for the first time.

It all became too much for Daisy. The sound of her baby’s heartbeat, the first time seeing it... Her chest constricted and the walls of the room felt like they were closing in on her. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t do this. Without a word, she climbed off the table, pulling her pants up and shirt down before she took off in a sprint. Her speed in this state left her sloppy as she knocked a tray of medical supplies to the ground on her way back to their room. The door slammed behind her, and that was when she finally collapsed to the ground. She was hyperventilating, her breathing rapid and uncontrolled

She felt arms around her, rocking her and holding her close. The smell of gunpowder and blood rushed up her nose and she moved closer to the person holding her. Her chest was still heaving, her lungs feeling like they were struggling to fill with oxygen. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her world was spinning. She could tell Zach was saying something to her, but the words were lost to her pounding heart. He was still rocking her, still holding her, and soon, her heart slowed down enough where she could hear what he was saying.

“Breathe with me, okay?” He was taking deep breaths, and soon Daisy found herself matching his breathing. The spinning slowly began to stop as her racing heart returned to normal. That was when the tears started. The tears for the fact that right now, she didn’t love her baby. That she didn’t know if she could love her baby. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” He rubbed her back, soothing her. “I know you’re not ready to talk about this, but when you are, I am right by your side as I always have been.”

Daisy had never felt so grateful for her mate than she had at that moment.

Now five months pregnant, Daisy considered herself incredibly unlucky.

She couldn’t wear her death dealer’s uniform anymore. Since she hit somewhere between four and five months, the leathers became too tight and wouldn’t zip up. She had taken to wearing pants with an elastic waistband and one of Zach’s shirts. By now, the coven knew of her pregnancy. Some of the vampires whispered about how odd it was that a vampire was expecting a child. Others made comments about how dangerous her offspring could be, because they were a pureborn.

Not only was she dealing with that, but her breasts had swelled and she had to send Zach out to get her a new bra, one that would adapt to her growing chest. She was becoming more conscious of her stretching skin. Stretch marks were starting to appear along her belly, which caused her to be more self-conscious. She no longer slept without a shirt, fearful of what Zach would say upon seeing it. Her back hurt due to the added weight of the fetus, and she was just generally more tired.

At least the baby was finally allowing her to feed.

She at least tried to continue on with some sense of normalcy in the coven. Just because she couldn’t go on missions didn’t mean she couldn’t watch the recruits training. So that’s where she was. She was sitting in a chair in the training area, watching Zach train the recruits with the practice weapons. Her head rested on her hands as she watched longingly at the recruits firing the guns at the targets. Many of them had good aim, but she was watching a group that was very obviously planning something.

Before she could say anything, one of the recruits had hopped onto the back of a recruit that was smaller than the rest. The smaller one, in their panic, squeezed the trigger and bullets went flying. Daisy’s eyes widened and she ducked down as one bullet whirled just above her, narrowly missing her head. It became embedded in the wall behind her and when she turned around to look, a sense of dread overtook her when she realized that had she not ducked, the bullet would have struck her in the head.

“That’s enough!” She could tell Zach saw where one of the bullets had landed because he had tossed the recruits that started this to the floor and was now standing protectively in front of her. “Training is over. You three.” He pointed to them. “You will be cleaning every piece of weaponry we have in the weapons storage, and when you are done with that, I will have specific tasks for all of you.” He hissed through bared fangs. “You are dismissed.” He grabbed Daisy, to her surprise, and took her back towards their room.

“Zach!” Daisy yelled, startled and put off by what he was doing “Let go of me.” When he didn’t seem to hear her, she yanked her arm out of his hold and took the lead to their room. She moved to sit on the bed once they got there, her eyes following him as he began to pace the floor.

“You shouldn’t have been in there. It’s too dangerous for you.” Zach said, finally stopping pacing around the room to stare directly at Daisy. “What if you didn’t duck? What if that bullet had struck you!”

“Well good thing that I’m a trained Death Dealer, Zach. I can handle myself!” She snapped, her blood boiling now. Very little caused her temper to snap nowadays, her hormones making it just... easier for her to lose control.

“You’re not a death dealer right now, Daisy. You are an expectant mother! I can’t let you be around recruits-,” He didn’t get to continue his thought as he felt a hand come in sharp contact with his face.

Daisy’s eyes were a fiery blue, her fangs extended. “You, Zachary, do not let me do anything. I am my own person. I will do whatever I want.” With that, she turned and stormed out of their room, anger flowing through every inch of her body. She needed to get away from Zach right now.

It was almost sunrise when Daisy returned back to their room. She could hear the water running in the tub, and sighed. It was rare that the two of them fought, and she knew it would only get worse with four months left of her pregnancy and hormones running high. She stripped down until she was naked and glanced back towards the door. It would be the first time Zach had seen her naked since she noticed her bump growing.

She took a deep breath and cracked open the bathroom door. She saw Zach sitting in the tub, his head leaning back and his eyes closed. She knew him well enough to figure that he wasn’t asleep. She cleared her throat, and sure enough, one of his eyes cracked open. “Daisy!” He sounded surprised that she would come in.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked, and instead of a verbal response, she got a nod and him shifting to allow her space to get into the water. She climbed in, sitting down so her back was up against his chest. The warm water soothed the ache in her spine, as well as helped her relax.

She could feel Zach’s eyes on her, eagerly staring at her nude form. She knew it had been a while since he had seen her, and she could tell he was enjoying it. Heightened senses picked up on the increase in his heart rate and she could feel his breathing quicken just a little.

Zach’s arms snaked around her shoulders as he held her close. She felt his face burrow into her neck and she managed a small smile. “I’m so sorry I snapped at you Daisy.” Her whole body stiffened some. “I know you’re a capable death dealer. You’ve done missions that I probably couldn’t dream of doing.”

“Zach...”

“I just got so worried when I saw how close that bullet came to striking you in the head. I know you can take a lot but very few people can survive that.” Zach continued despite Daisy’s interruption. “I don’t know, I suppose I got possessive and didn’t really think about what the consequences of that could be.”

“Zach!”

“What?” He hadn’t realized she was trying to get his attention so he looked down at her. Her expression was unreadable, and it was beginning to worry him. There was no blood in the water so he knew it was nothing bad, but he didn’t like how she sounded. Her hand was resting on her belly which was even more worrying. “Daisy, what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer, instead she took his hand and pressed it up to where hers was not a moment ago. For a moment there was nothing, but then Zach felt what was almost like a small tap against his hands and his eyes widened. “Was that..?” A nod was all he got in response and he smiled.

He was surprised when he saw the small smile on her face as she moved her own hand feeling another small movement from their child. For a moment, he forgot the situation at hand, the risks of Daisy being pregnant. They were just two people in love, expecting their first child.

After the bath, the two of them retired to their room. They curled up in bed, Zach’s arm around her midsection. He had long since fallen asleep at this point, but Daisy was feeling restless. Their baby had long since stilled from their constant movements and was allowing her to rest, but she couldn’t silence her mind.

She rested a hand on her baby bump, eyes closing for a moment. “I don’t know if you can hear me, my child.” Her voice was hushed as to avoid waking her mate up. “But I remember the hybrid... Michael... telling me that you should be able to hear me now. I just... I know that I am going to be very... difficult to love as a mother from time to time, but know that I will do anything to protect you.” She yawned, finally feeling her eyes grow tired.

As she started to fall asleep, she didn’t notice Zach pull her a little closer and smile to himself.

I will protect you too, you and your mother, no matter what comes at us.

#Zach Memories #Daisy memories #drabble #pregnancy tw #long post for ts

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darwinism00 · 8 years ago

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Chapter 4

Chapter 4 FEELING LIKE AN ASSHOLE Keera dreams vividly that night. She dreamed of a life she left long ago. She was in a large room with light grey carpet, wood paneling on the walls, light silver mandated furniture and firefighter posters on two of the five walls. The old American Flag was displayed over one wall almost covering the 10x10 ft space completely giving the small room a even cozier feel. There was posters of old American soldiers giving a salute back in the late 1990’s and family photos displayed around the neatly kept room. She quickly recognized the bedroom of Albo. There was an Albanian eagle Carbon in a frame on the wall above the beds headboard and Soccer and basketball trophies on hand made shelves by the window she was always welcomed through. Keera’s heart started pounding. She immediately knew this was a dream but it had been so long since she had dreamed of Albo that she played along with the dream sequence. This after all was the only way she got to see him anymore. Albo was about 15 she thought. He was sitting on the bed with his hands folded and clenched together. His elbows were resting on his knees and his head was bowed as if he was contemplating something intensely. Keera reached for him and gently touched the back of his shoulder. Like she was approaching a feral animal that only she could tame. He took in a deep breath when her fingers touched his shoulder and he seemed to hold that breath. There was some sort of electrical charge between them that she had almost forgotten about. A memory of her touching Duke flashed into her head and before she lost this moment she shook it off. This was her moment with Albo. Her memory that was so precious she couldn't lose it. Not even for Duke. The words came out even though she didn't consciously think to say them. “Albo please talk to me. That's all I ever want.” Albo’s muscles that had quickly developed over the last few years of puberty flexed through his thin sheen of a grey t-shirt. “I know babe I'm just trying to find the right words.” He says without looking at her. He sucks in another breath and turns to Keera who was laying on her side on the bed behind him. She knew what she was doing to him and for once she didn't care. She wanted him. Her body had came into form with a vengeance and puberty had been good to her. Her breasts were large and her hips were curved. Her once stringy blonde hair had grown thicker now that she took care of it and the waves that once were a mangled mess where soft and flattering to her feminine physique. Her lips always had a gloss and her long lashes that framed her light green eyes were coated with mascara. The more she changed the more guys at school took notice and finally gave her positive attention but she didn't care either way. She wanted Albo. She had always wanted him. “I just want to make sure we do this right. I am old fashioned and I want to marry you first. I want it to be perfect.” Keera had heard these words from him before and rolled her eyes in frustration from having the same argument over and over again. “Albo!” She starts as she sits up. She is wearing white lacy boy short underwear and a loose fit t-shirt that she conveniently left the house in without a bra. Her breast were much too large to pull that off but she knew this and relished the look on Albo’s face when she pulled her sweater off. His parents were gone to do their volunteer work early seeing it was Wednesday. Keera knew what she was doing and intended to get her way. She rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around Albos neck. His accent was so slight she barely noticed it. She looked into his beautiful blue/green eyes and said. “You are perfect. We are perfect together can't you feel it?” She saw the admiration and respect he had in his eyes for her and she couldn't help but feel like the sexiest most beautiful girl alive. She wasn't scared what so ever. Just eager. “I dashure” Keera says intently which meant “I love you.” in Albanian. Albo doesn't smile his signature smile he just looks deep into Keera’s eyes and says. “I love you too. So much it hurts babe.” Before he could add anything to it keera stole his breath with a deep penetrating kiss. One hand was on Albos face feeling the little bit of stubble he had growing on his face and the other caressing the back of his neck. Albos hand wrapped around the small of Keeras lower back and pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs around him easily despite the army pants he wore that had many bulging pockets. She kissed him like she was drowning and his mouth had oxygen. She felt him swell beneath her and her chest pounded like a drum begging to be danced to. She ripped his shirt off and gently touched his chest hair. She was trying so hard to control herself. Her other self she had boiling beneath the surface. She pulls back to take a breath. She could feel the heat emanating off of her and for the first time she was scared. Not of losing her virginity or of any pain that might cause her but that Albo would see up front the ugly side of her. Albo grabbed her face and focused her frantic gaze on his. He searched her expression for what she was thinking. “Are you sure?” He asked with such reverence her heart melted. She shook her head to answer before whispering the words. “Yes.” She knew that reply said everything she couldn't. That she loved him more than life itself and that she wanted to give him her virtue and vice versa. This was something she could do with such certainty. Staying and marrying him was not. Albo was a man of pride, bravery and honor and he would try and do right by her and this is why she knew she couldn't stay. If she did and got discovered he would fight for her and he would lose. The more in love she fell for him the more she was sure that she had to leave him. To save him. He kissed her with such passion she almost forgot that in reality Albos parents came home and ruined everything. They stumbled to get clothes on as his dad walked up the stairs to ask Ablos help with carrying something out to the car for their charity work. Keera had jumped out the window just before they were caught and Keera was not able to give herself to Albo before it was too late. In this sequence however, she was in control. It was a dream and in her dream no one else existed but her and her love. Albo shifted his weight and turned so Keera gently landed on her back and he was on top of her. The last few years Albo’s height had caught up and surpassed Keera to where he was more than a few inches taller than her. He towered over her as a mass that was much larger than her. He panted above her with a shaky nervous breath. She stroked his face with her left hand and he looked her in the eyes. “It's ok babe. This is what's supposed to happen. I want to give myself to you.” He smiled knowing that they both talked about how what was meant to be would be and his smile that she had fallen in love with touched his eyes. Without a word he kissed her again. Keera closed her eyes imagining what she could imagine to happen next. Keera is then kissing soft lips. She is rolling around in white sheets staring into eyes. Black eyes. Feeling full, peaceful and happy. When the man on top of her pulls back Duke looks her in the eyes and reaches up to stroke her face hypnotizing her with those deep dark eyes. He smiles at her with such love and admiration in his face and says “I love you so much Keera I feel like I could break.” Keera looks at him with almost a self conscious flutter in her chest letting the nagging feeling of (this isn't right) go. He leans in and kisses her deep and passionately leaving her breathless. When he pulls away to look at her before speaking any words he plunges a chaaku knife into her chest. Keera woke up bolting straight into a sit up position grasping at her chest in pain. She clutches her locket around her neck with tears running down her cheeks. She tried catching her breath as all her candles in her room instantly came to light with 6 inch or more of flames. She learned a long time ago that candles were a good tool to dispose of excess energy. If she gets heated so to speak her mind automatically targets the candles and not the stove or walls like she has in the past when she was out of control, scared and unpracticed. She glances around startled at her own recklessness and bows her head, closing her eyes and starts to take deep calming breaths. The candles over time grow dim and snuff out. She is calm but the ache in her chest is still there; foreign to her. She wipes her face and lays back glancing at the clock. 6am. She had gotten home and asleep three short hours earlier. Damn it! Keera yelled at herself subconsciously. She barely felt like she could breath while still calming her heart rate. After laying there replaying the dream in her head at least a 100 times she decides to get up and heads to the bathroom. Which is literally five feet from her bed seeing that she had a studio apartment. Her kitchen was basically in a closet that she never opened. It was a tight living space but she got to live alone which she didn't just prefer but viewed essential for her to survive. She keep two fire extinguishers at all times and had fire proofed her small space with anti flammable mushroom liner on all the walls, ceiling and doors. If someone were to ever come over they would assume she went crazy and thought martians were coming for her but since noone was allowed over ever she didn't seem to care. Besides she stayed on the South west side in the ghetto so no one wanted to come over anyways. Even though she was at work most of the time a girl could never be too careful right? Work kept her distracted. Distracted from everything and anything. She liked to keep money stashed away in savings jars so if she had a incident and needed to get away fast she could. So she didn't mind all the hours she put in. It made her feel secure. Keera rinses her face with cold water. As she pats herself dry and looks at herself in the mirror. A fair skinned girl with bright green eyes, a round nose and full rose colored lips looks back at her. She is wearing a tank and some boy short panties which is what she preferred. she stares at her chest. The source of her pain. Her locket hangs down between her bust almost buried from its long chain. She likes it that way because drunk people are nosey and this way she can wear it at work and not have to answer stupid questions to patrons. She holds it in her hand feeling the heat that was left behind on it. When she parts her cleavage she sees a perfectly oval burn mark. “Damn it.” Keera said in a whisper. Then she opens the locket and her heart raced at the memory of Dukes knife plunging into it. Not the physical pain that would cause but the betrayal that she felt from it. She drops her hands to the sink clutching its sides and draws in yet another breath. “Get your shit together Keera!” She says out loud. She looks up at herself and thinks about his lips on hers and feels a flutter in her stomach and instantly gets mad at herself. “FUCKING STUPID!” She says louder. There is no such thing as love. she thinks to herself while shaking her head with tiny beads of sweat forming. Not anymore. Keera thinks to herself with a flash of Albo’s smile blinding its way into her closed eyes vision. She pushes the picture away subconsciously to get away from the pain that hits her chest like a freight train every time she thought of him. “Fucking stupid.” She says again after her breathing slows and she gets herself back under control. Shaking her head she walks back to her bed. The sun is just rising outside but she is far from a morning person so her blinds are drawn shut. Little specks of light are shining through and each one makes Keera more and more desperate for sleep. Her body was sore from her shift the day before and she needed to rest. She couldn't stop from torturing herself about her dream and her intense connection from the night before. The way he looked at her. Like he was looking into her. She just couldn't shake the memory. Duke's first shift by himself would be today. Keera suddenly thought. It should be dead but after last night she wasn't so sure how it would go. She had a pang of excitement when the thought of stopping by the bar and grill crept its ugly head into her mind. She argues with herself. Why would I be there? Amanda would be there and she would totally embarrass the shit out of you. one side of Keeras inner voice said But you did a very sloppy close last night and it wouldn't be fair for Duke to come in to that on his first shift alone. “FUCKING CHRIST” Keera says outloud flipping the covers off of herself. When she was in the shower she thought how stupid it was for her to go in. Maybe I can sweep under the glass chiller. Keera thought when she remembered kicking the broken glass that Duke had shaddered in the middle of their rush off to the side. Then I can stock the cooler and walk him through setting up and then go home, get a nap and be fresh and ready for my close tonight. Keera had rationalized herself into going. She shaved her legs, put on lotion, deodorant, vanilla body spray, light makeup, and a short sun dress with short casual brown leather boots. Her curves were looking voluptuous. She grabs her breasts in approval and perked them up a bit in her bra. They were big and round. Not much perk up for these babies she thought to herself. She usually wears a sports bra to work but not today. Her only good bra would get its money's worth. Her long blonde hair was curled into soft waves with her straightner and her lip gloss was well coated by the time she got to the ground cart train. Keera looked out the window at what she has come to call her city. Up above in the sky where tall old buildings as far as she could see. Zip lines spidered their way from building to building like a spider web broken apart. The pods where transportation for the rich or tourists. This way they could make there way from building to building without having to surround themselves with commoners down below. The L train had been converted to a cart tran that ran off of solar panels. The outer shell of the train was made up from those and wind pods that lined the top and sides of the train carts. These were oval shaped devices that were concave on the top of the oval and convex on the bottom so on the other side the difference created a spinning motion in the wind created by the speed they hit between stops. The combination of the two not only paid for itself but helped power the every growing need for energy in Chicago. This made this transit free and the preferred travel for locals on the ground. Keera always thought of a mutated centipede when she got on the cart tran. The city was pathed in recycled tires and concrete supplemented type materials. Which were mostly plastics that had been recycled to appear as concrete instead of actual concrete. Trees were replaced with wind pod trees that were built to impersonate a tree but spidered out into little oval wind mills that were exactly like the ones attached to the cart tran. Wind would catch on the hollow side of the little ovals and it would spin endlessly until the wind stopped which in the windy city was rare. These wing pod trees also lit up at night like christmas lights creating lit nights so bright that stars were foreign to the windy city or to anyone that has never been outside of it which was more common than not for people on the ground. Keera had come here when she was 15 scared and alone. She had got lucky with a lot and cherished this city as family. She thought she would have to hide in an Independent state off of the grid for the rest of her life but thanks to her friends she had a chip. One that already registered as a Union state ally. If she could truly chose this would've been her choice and for that she could not resent anyone for her position in life. Though she wasn't rich or famous and had a lot of inconveniences to live day to day she finally had come to call this place home. Where the people had open minds, less judgement and catoried to freethinkers. Keera had never been to an Independent state but it was hard for her to picture a place more accepting. Even though this was the case she still kept her secret a secret. Though a large group of people think the same way it doesn't mean their personal experiences wouldn't get in the way, and it didn't change the law and what fear that law instilled in people. Keera shifted her thoughts to outside again. She saw food carts, and restaurants that advertise self ordering menus. Keera roll her eyes at that. Fucking sell outs she thinks bitterly. Chicago people were hard headed and like most passionate families they stuck together. When a restaurant sells out they get boycotted. Usually they were on their last leg anyways and some corporation would come to bail them out knowing that they would fail and be a good tax write off at the end of the year. Then the scum bags with money is a number pusher instead of a blue collar working American would come and fire the staff for robots to save money while operating. Idiots. She thought. And most of the time she was right. Suddenly a British sounding robot chimes in on the overhead speaker. “We are approaching Hyde Park. Exits will be on my left.” Keera rolls her eyes. The fact that the lady’s voice was British and they were in America always pisssed her off. Maybe that's why I get irritated at Duke's voice. She thought to herself. Then instantly, she felt bad for judging him so quickly. She always loved Albo’s slight accent. It was Albanian which was much different but it was so endearing. Maybe it was her brains way of rejecting her feelings. Keera had to walk two short blocks to Bob's wings and things. The Chicago breeze was actually warm this day. The sky was blue and no cloud was in sight. As she approached the front door she was nervous. She sucked in a nervous breath and walked in to scan the room when she locked eyes with Angel. She was confused but relieved. Angel was Keeras confidant. Meaning she was as close to a best friend as a best friend she could get. Angel was beautiful. She was 5”4, petite and lean. She had olive skin, honey brown eyes and long brown wavy hair with a perfect smile. While Keera kept the guys at bay and away from her curves with sarcasm and wit, Angel killed them with her sweet personality, kind heart and loving smile. If any guy disrespected her you best believe there would be ten more willing to fight for her honor and put him in his place. Despite her being Italian her voice was soft and musical. Unlike her Uncles, Brothers and Dad that were rumored to be apart of the Chicago Mafia. That might be why Angel was so trustworthy with secrets. You could tell her anything. Well almost. Keera would not burden anyone with her big secret. There would be no point. “Hey Angel Face what are you doing here? Did Amanda call in?” Keera asks hopefully. Not that she didn't love her friend Amanda but she was not in the mood for her loud mouth and probing questions about Duke. She was happy her soft spoken one was here. “No actually I was gonna text you on my break cause I didn't want to wake you but Duke quit.” Keeras chest didn't hurt but felt empty and her stomach lurched. “What? why?” She felt anger start to rise in her gut. How dare he! Keera screams in her head furiously! Suddenly a shattering from behind the bar cracked through the air. The coffee pot that was brewing fresh coffee suddenly burst sending steaming hot coffee every where. “Shoot.” Angel said as she grabbed a towel and threw it to the ground. “We have the worst luck with these things!” She says as she carefully mops up the mess with her towel. “I swear it's because the coffee is being brewed too hot. I mean look at it. Its steaming!” Keera made her way through the stools that had yet to be taken down from the close the night before and around the end of the bar. Angel just smiled her soft smile and shrugged. “It's fine kid I got this.” Even though Keera felt horrible knowing that she was the reason that that had happen on more than one occasion she was relieved in knowing that that was her go to way of expending excess energy rather than setting the kitchen on fire like she had accidentally done at her last place of employment. “Let me help you.” Keera says as she grabs another rag from the bucket behind the bar and starts to clean the coffee pot and counter while Angel cleans the floor. Angel doesn't stop her but playfully says. “Why it's not like you did it.” Keera shot her a glance but saw the genuine innocence on her friends face. She had no idea. Keera thought to herself when suddenly a familiar voice spoke up startling her. “It was probably because he cut his damn hands so much he couldn't pour a beer even if he wanted to.” Keera followed the voice to see who it belonged to. As she looked to the end of the bar she saw that it was Kenny, the bar regular that was there the night before. Kenny was a older man in his late 50’s but wore a genuine warm smile and had this confidence about himself that was attractive. He had silver hair that coined him with the nickname “Silver fox” to all the employees. “Kenny what the hell are you doing here this early?” Keera inquired. “Oh, you know I got shit faced and left my wallet last night. Decided to stay and have a hair of the dog that bit me.” He raises a Bloody Mary with a salt rim, celery, olives, pickles, lemon and lime. “You didn't bother to text me and let me know this time!” He says almost accusingly. “Oh I didn't catch it Kenny I'm sorry. I kinda blazed out of here.One of the reasons I came back was to help open and clean up a little.” Angel interjects. “Oh you know I got this. You worked way too many hours to be here and you work tonight. You look hot though you going on a date in between bar visits?” She smiles playfully. Keera avoids the question all together but knows that unlike Amanda, Angel won't push the subject. “I just don't know why he would quit like that?” Keera says almost to herself. “I told you he cut his hands all to hell. He had a bad spill right before you came back to save him. He had a towel with blood and everything. I thought you kicked it with the glass off to the side cause you were slammed. I mean I wasn't that drunk yet.” He says the last part into his bloody mary as her takes a slow swig from the glass. Keera scowled and she struggles to think back. He had a look of panic but I didn't remember blood and I would of noticed that right? Keera questions herself. She walks to grab the broom that is tucked between the cabinets that hugged the wall just enough for a space to stick the broom, deck scrubber and squeegee. Before she gets on her knees she looks at Kenny and warns him about looking at her ass and does a sweep under the glass chiller where she remembers kicking the glass last night when she came back from break. Half a highball, shards of glass and a white towel came sweeping their way into the bar alley. Keera stands up grabbing the half broken glass and examines it. Blood stained the sharp edge. Surprised, she grabs the towel and sees more evidence when she unfolds it. Red blood stained in a round blotch but not a ton like Kenny had thought. Puzzled Keera says “Hu… Well that's fucking weird I don't remember him bleeding or saying anything about bleeding.” Kenny then mumbles “Well maybe he's not as much of a pussy as you were treating him last night.” Guilt panged Keera now. Did I treat him so poorly because I was trying to mask my feelings that he didn't want to come back? Usually Keera wouldn't care. She would laugh and say that the guy needed to grow a pair then she remembered telling him just that. “Hell.” She says. “I'm going to grab my tip out and get a fucking nap.” Angel and Kenny both laugh. Angel smiles sweetly and yells back to Keera. “Let me know if you want tonight off I got a trip to pay for in two weeks to New Vegas.” Keera laughs. “You know I never let myself not work.” Keera yells back. It gives her too much time to herself. “Yea I know just wanted to put a bug in your ear.” Angel yelled back to her as she was entering the kitchen. Keera approaches the office and peeks through the tiny window placed in the center of the large white heavy door only to see Marcus, her favorite manager and smiles. Marcus was almost like a father figure to Keera. More like a perverted favorite uncle but as far as family goes Keera would take it. He was huge. Like could of been a NFL player huge if he hadn't blown his knee out in college. He had combed slicked back hair, tucked in crisp dress shirt, pressed dress pants and shiny dress shoes as usual. He use to manage the moose lounge for 15 years which was a swanky bar that the snobby rich men from up above would go to to discuss business and the newest things they blew their cash on. He never told the story out right but the rumor was that one year at a Christmas party one of the wives of a super rich regular was throwing herself all over Marcus. Marcus being Marcus tried to be polite and professional but the husband was embarrassed and took it out on Marcus calling him pond scum and promising his job would not be there in the morning. Marcus, having a nerve struck thought if his job was already done for he might as well make it worth it and beat the dog piss out of this guy. He yelled with every punch landing “You don't know who the fuck I am and where I've been and who my family is you pussy ass son of a bitch!” The guy was too scared to press charges. The guy did however make sure he was never hired by any other establishment up above again. Thus brought Marcus to the slums of Hyde Park. He wore a gold chain cross around his neck and had perfect Chicago accent to go with it. Some habits die hard. He would kill anyone who messed with his girls especially Keera. He was the only one on management who appreciated the slack she picked up around there. Keera gives the door a few knocks and pushes the massively heavy door open open. “Where the fuck were you last night?” Keera says to Marcus as she kicks the door stop in, crosses her arms and leans against the door frame. He spins in his chair and takes her in. “Whoa girl what the fuck you doing looking like that? You finally decide to become someone's trophy wife and retire? Where can I put in my application? Jesus Christ!” Keera smirks and leans in to give him a half hug and telling him to shut his Splenda Daddy wanna be ass up. “So what ya doing here kiddo didn't you work like 20 hours yesterday plus pick up the slack for fat ass (which is Marcus’s pet name for Doug the douche bag.) “Yeah but I heard my new bartender quit.” Keera says. Marcus shook his head. “Yeah well maybe he should grow a pair right. Fat ass was supposed to hire a man not a little girl.” Usually she would chime in with agreement but she was feeling a bit of guilt and a little defensive. Thats weird. Keera reflected on her feelings. Marcus stopped and tilted his head looking concerned. “What's up kiddo you getting soft on me?” “No” She said too quick. “Kenny just said he saw him cut himself and what not and I wanted to check in and make sure we didn't have a sue happy pansy on our hands.” Marcus lets out a deep breath. “Yeah cause he'd be the type. So you wanna what? Stop by his house?” Keera shook her head yes. Marcus rubbed the back of his wide neck letting out a deep breath, reached for a pen and jotted down an address on a sticky note. “Now you know you didn't get this from me right?” “No shit.” Keera replied. Marcus points his finger. “Be careful though. If it wasn't you always looking out for this shit hole and me knowing you can hold your own I wouldn't give it to you.” “Yes daddy.” Keera said with a witty smile as she walks away. Marcus leaned back in computer chair with his hands on his chest and head tilted back. “Ah I love it when you call me big poppa!” He joked as he swirled back in his seat to finish his morning paper work. “Marcus you are an old fuck!” She yells back to him laughing. Keera then says a quick goodbye to Angel and Kenny as she heads out the door with a new mission in her head.

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