#hes not perfect obvi he does things that get under my skin but all the good things about him outweigh the 'bad' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

sounds just like a song - ws pt. 3

A/N: This is a rewrite...I did not edit...and I just...might have added a few things that some people will hate me for. I love you all though :)

Warnings: Mentions of ex girlfriends, mentions of bullying, self doubt, smut for sure, alcohol obvi, and...maybe other stuff?

Word count: 10K

Watermelon Sugar masterlist

July 14, 2018 Bea’s POV

“I find it kind of hysterical that we had to sneak off to a bathroom to say goodbye properly.” I let out a series of girlish giggles, dropping my head against the door as Harry continued to kiss down my neck. “Harry-”

“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” His words were muffled by the skin of my neck. “Give me five more minutes.”

“Champagne makes you needy.” I gasped, lifting my hips up when he bit a little harder than the few times before, his tongue immediately swiping over the skin. “Fuck, that feels so nice.”

“I bet it does.” He hummed out, his chest vibrating under my palms as he tilted his head up to nip at my earlobe. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

“Believe me, I can’t either.” I pressed my palms against his chest, slightly holding him back from my body. “But you have to get to soundcheck eventually, and I have plans with the girls.”

“I know.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I just….fuck, I think I’d take you with me everywhere if I could.”

“I’d gladly follow if I didn’t have prior engagements.” I gave him a soft smile, brushing my thumb over the collar of his shirt. “We’ll only be apart for a few hours, that’s not so bad.”

“It can be when we know our time is limited together.” He nibbled on his lower lip. “We only have until Tuesday-”

“Which means we still have three days.” I reminded him. “Besides, I’ve spoken to Claire about Saturday, and I think I might be able to sneak away.”

“Yeah?” His brows lifted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I guess it’s a date then.”

“I guess so.” I chuckled. “Now, give me one more good kiss before I go.”

Harry smirked, his dimple flashing as he leaned forward like a shark chasing after it’s prey.

🐙🐙🐙🐙

Harry’s POV

I pressed the key to my Tesla into Bea’s palm as I kissed her forehead.

“Don’t argue with me.” I whispered, glancing down at her as she squinted up at me. Her empty hand rose to her forehead, shielding her sensitive, blue eyes from the california sun . “Just take my car so you don’t have to uber around, and we can drive it home tonight from the venue.”

“But Harry.” She sighed, licking over her bottom lip as she looked back at my car. “That thing costs more than...well, everything I own.”

“Shut up.” I snorted, rolling my eyes at her before I stole another kiss. “Take it, okay? It’s just a car, and it literally can drive itself. If you have any questions about it, just shoot me a text and I’ll respond.”

“This is unnecessary, but I really appreciate the gesture.” She smiled. “Thank you for not leaving us stranded.”

“I would never.” I pressed one more kiss to her lips, my fingers squeezing her sides. “Alright, go have fun with your friends. Send me a few pictures while you’re out, yeah?”

“I will.” She took a step back, watching me with an almost sad smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours, darling.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” I repeated back to her. “Be safe, and have fun.”

“You too.”

I turned on my heel, checking both ways before I jogged across the street to the car Gemma and Michael drove to brunch. I slipped into the passenger side, shutting the door with a quick huff as I reached for my seatbelt. I looked across the street as Bea turned to Claire, her arms crossing over her abdomen as the wind blew her long cardigan around her body.

“She’s a wonderful girl.” Gemma gave me a smile, her eyes practically sparkling. “Mum thinks so too.”

“You’ve told Mum about her?” I asked her, pushing my sunglasses up with raised brows as Gem smiled wider. “Gemma, tell me-”

“I didn’t tell Mum, The Daily Mail did.” Gemma rolled her eyes, putting the car in drive before she pulled out of her parking spot. “The bloody paps have already sold pictures of us at brunch to the rags, and I guess a few fans got some snapshots of you and Beatrice entering and leaving the bathroom.”

“Grand.” I huffed, slumping in my seat. “I didn’t want that for her.”

“Harry, she’s a smart girl.” Gemma said. “She knows what she’s getting into with you. She might not know the extent of what she’s getting into, but she knows enough about it.”

“I just don’t want them to chase her off.” I mumbled, pulling my phone out of my pockets, pressing my finger to the home button. “She’s got such a good heart, Gemma. She doesn’t deserve to have her name raked through the mud because of some asshole like me.”

“She doesn’t think you’re an asshole, and I guarantee if I asked her right now, she would say that you're worth it.” Gemma glanced at me with furrowed brows. “Don’t be bothered by it, Harry. Beatrice seems like a strong girl, and she’s got a decent sized support group to look after her.”

I sighed, biting my lower lip before I nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I whispered. “I just can’t help but worry about her.”

“I think that’s natural.” Gemma hummed out. “But I do have to say, this is the first time you’ve ever been worried about your bird and not yourself when it comes to being in the papers. You aren’t even a little bit annoyed that they plastered your face on the front page.”

“I couldn’t care less about myself right now.” I cleared my throat. “She’s not used to this, I am.”

“Well, maybe you should just have a talk about it.” Gemma said. “And you should definitely call Mum before she decides to fly over here to meet Bea herself.”

🐝🐝🐝🐝

Bea’s POV

“Do you think I can pull this off?” I held the maroon colored bodysuit up, twisting the hanger around as I looked at the lack of fabric. “I mean, it’s really cute, but I’m just-”

“Perfect in every way, shape, and form.” Tara pressed her hands to my shoulders, kissing my cheek as I rolled my eyes at her. “I think you would fucking kill in that thing, babe. It’s perfect for your body shape.”

“My body shape is blob, Tara.” I glanced back at her with a wild expression, shaking my head as she laughed. “What could I do for this thing?”

“You have a fucking hourglass figure.” Jackson snorted out a laugh. “And you keep it locked up all the time, so let it out.”

“But I have a tummy.” I lowered the bodysuit, turning towards my friends. “Won’t that look a little unflattering if I just walk around with my stomach sticking out? And my arms-”

“Go put the damn thing on.” Tara carefully ushered me towards the dressing room, snagging a belt and a leather jacket along the way. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”

I inhaled sharply, pushing the velvet curtain aside before I slid it shut again. I put the items down on the bench in front of the mirror, wiping my palms on my pants as I tried to soothe my nerves. It wasn’t like I was anxious about trying on clothes, I just hated the entire process. I had to undo my shoes, slide my pants off, put the bodysuit on, and then put my pants back on. After I finished all of that, I’d have to do it over again to get redressed. I started the process, balancing my hand against the wall as I stood on one foot. It took me a few minutes, but when I finally finished getting into the bodysuit, I looked at my jeans with a heavy frown.

“Hey, Tara?” I moved the curtain aside, catching her attention. “Can you find me black jeans? I don’t think this shade of blue is gonna look good with the maroon.”

“Yeah, give me a sec.” She turned on her heel, strutting towards the jeans without a care in the world.

I pulled the curtain back before I turned to face the mirror.

The bodysuit had a bottom that was far more comfortable than any other bodysuit I’d worn. It was almost as if it had a pair of boyshorts at the bottom, the material stretchy and comfortable as I moved around. I especially enjoyed the zipper on the side that made it easy to slip on. I didn’t have to flail around like a fish out of water to pull it over my hips or to get it zipped up either. It was absolutely perfect, and the more that I looked at myself in it, the more I loved it.

I twisted and turned, looking at myself from different angles as I waited for Tara to return with a pair of jeans for me. As I turned around, admiring my bum in the pair of cheeky boy shorts, an idea popped into my head. Harry did ask me to send him pictures throughout the day so that he would feel like he was with me. I rolled my lips in, holding back a giddy laugh as I thought of sending him a picture of me in just the bodysuit. It was quite a scandalous idea to me, though I knew there were people who’d sent pictures of far more intimate things to their boyfriends.

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek as the wheels in my brain turned. On one hand, I knew that Harry would never say anything insulting to me about my picture. He would never point out a flaw, or offer a backhanded compliment. He would tell me that he loved it no matter what I sent, I knew that...but I was still nervous to show him my body in such a vulnerable state.

I didn’t even know how to pose for those types of things, and surely someone else would need my dressing room before I finished figuring out the perfect post. I hesitated, my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. I finally grabbed my phone with a heavy exhale, trying my best to expel all of the negative energy from my body as I swiped over to my camera app.

I held the phone up, tilting myself to the side before I looked at the screen of my phone.

I groaned when I saw how I actually looked in the bodysuit.

My legs were far too short, and my skin was far too pale.

I looked like an old picture of me as a chubby child in a bathing suit, my stomach pushing out ever so slightly and the skin of my thighs dimpled. I rolled my eyes, pushing away the tight feeling in my chest as I lowered my phone down. It was no use even trying to take a picture of myself for Harry. The lighting of the dressing room wasn’t exactly helping me too much either.

“If you want to take a picture, you weren’t doing it right.” Tara’s voice interrupted me, causing me to jump as I looked back at her. “You need to learn your angles, babe.”

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, pressing my hand to my chest.

“I walked in when you started pouting at your phone.” She snorted out a laugh, tossing the jeans onto the bench. “Give me your phone.”

“I don’t think-”

“Listen to the master.” She glared at me, holding her finger in the air. “Do exactly as I say, and we’ll get the perfect set of naughty pics for your man.”

“Tara-” I felt my cheeks growing warm, my eyes growing wide as she swirled her finger around.

“Turn around and drop it girl, Harry will literally have a heart attack.” Tara said.

“I’ve never dropped it, and I never will.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not….I don’t like my ass, okay?”

“It is one of your best features, babe.” Tara looked at me over my phone, a soft look in her eyes as she sighed. “Do you feel insecure?”

“No, I just…” I shifted on my bare feet. “I’m just not as confident as I could be, that’s all. I’m working on it.”

“I truly think this will help.” Tara said softly. “We’ll save dropping it low for the wedding pictures, okay? For now, just… turn towards the mirror and stick your left over your right...that’s perfect Bea! Now just turn your head to the side, hold your hands in front of your stomach, and glance back at me like you’re modest.”

“I am modest, you heathen.” I grumbled, following her instruction as she snapped a few pictures. “How did that look?”

“Perfect.” She said. “Your hair did a lot of work, and we got the perfect shot of your ass without making it the focus.”

“Oh my god, I don’t want to see it.” I groaned, turning towards her with a pout on my lips. “Can you see-”

“How positively exquisite you look in that bodysuit?” She asked. “Yes, you can. Now put the pants on and sit on the bench for me.”

I did as she said, sitting down on the edge before I crossed my legs. I extended them out, pressing my palms to the edge of the bench before I turned my head just like Tara asked me too. I wasn’t sure how she managed to avoid putting herself in the photo, but she did an excellent job of getting me in a raw, natural state with a smile on my face.

When we were done playing around, I changed back into my old clothes before tossing the bodysuit, the belt, and the jeans over my arm. All three articles of clothing would be going home with me, and they would carry this memory with them forever. Tara handed me my phone back with a proud smirk, the device buzzing in my hand as I noticed a picture of Harry on the screen.

“You sent them already?” I asked her. “Fuck, I’m not prepared.”

“Go take the phone call.” She said. “Give me your shit, I’ll get you checked out.”

I handed her my purse and the clothing before I answered the phone, holding it to my ear.

“Hi.” I said softly.

“You’re trying to kill me.” Harry whined out, his voice strained. “When I said send pictures, I meant ones with you doing innocent things. Now I have to wait for hours to touch you again, and all I can think about is you in that changing room.”

“I thought it might be a nice preview of things to come.” I bit my bottom lip as I crossed my free arm over my stomach. “I hope that you liked them.”

“I fucking loved them.” He said. “I plan on having them framed.”

“No you don’t.” I rolled my eyes. “No one wants to see those hung up in a gallery anywhere.”

“That’s not a bad idea…” He hummed out. “I wonder if the Guggenheim will take them?”

“Stop being so cheeky.” I tossed my head back, laughing loudly. “I allow you to put one in your wallet, so that you shall have to squint to see any flaws.”

“That just won’t do.” He tutted softly. “I’m putting them in my house, in large frames! I might even commission an artist to paint you like a little renaissance princess...but you’d have to send me one without the lacy thing for that.”

“In your dreams.” I mumbled, snorting out a soft laugh. “Have you done rehearsals yet?”

“Just about to go on stage and test it all out.” He said. “I was at the mic stand when I got those pictures by the way. I might have had to wobble off stage to take care of some things before I called you up.”

“Did you jack off to those?” I asked him bluntly. “Holy fuck, there’s no way-”

“Um, yeah, I did.” He said plainly. “My girlfriend sends me pictures of herself in lingerie, giving me bedroom eyes, and you expect me not to get hard? You’re insane.”

“You are insane.” I chuckled. “I’m happy to give a little inspiration to you in such desperate times, darling.”

“You sound so smug right now, honey.” His voice was soft, but there was a teasing edge to the tone of his voice that sent shivers down my spine. “Just you wait until I get on that stage tonight. I’ll have you dripping down your legs the second I walk out, and you know it.”

“Fuck.” I all but wheezed the word out. “Maybe I should cut my shopping trip short?”

“Now, now.” He taunted. “I don’t think your friends would like that very much, honey.”

“Alright, I’ve learned my lesson.” I cleared my throat. “Don’t tease if I don’t want to be teased back.”

“My clever girl.” he laughed. “Thank you for the pictures, honey. I think you looked positively stunning, and I really love them a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled, looking down at my feet. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

“See you soon, Beatrice.” He whispered. “Be good.”

“Same to you.”

I hung up, taking a deep breath in attempts to hold in a squeal.

I fucking loved having a boyfriend.

🍯🍯🍯🍯

Harry’s POV

I slammed my fist into Dave’s covered palm with a loud grunt, biting down harder on my mouth guard as I ducked to avoid his right hook. I didn’t need a bruise on my face during the last show of my world tour, even if everyone would love that. I jumped back up, swinging my arm around for a side hit as Dave grunted in front of me. I took a few steps back, exhaling heavily as I heard chatter around me. I turned my head, my eyes landing on Beatrice and Claire standing by the ring. Claire was busy talking to Gemma, but Beatrice had her eyes glued on me. Just as I lifted my hand to wave, I felt a hard hit land on my ribcage, causing me to fall to the ground.

I heard Bea gasp as Dave laughed loudly.

“You shouldn’t have let your guard down, mate.” He tapped my hip with his glove. “Number one rule.”

“You prick, I was admiring my girl.” I groaned, falling onto my back. “It’s not my fault she’s so bloody gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.” Bea’s laughter caught my attention, my head lolling to the side to see her standing at the side of the ring with one hand pressed over her lips.

“You think this is funny, huh?” I asked her, my words muffled around my guard. I turned my head to the opposite side, spitting it out before I looked back at her. “You wanna get in here and show me what you’ve got?”

“No thank you.” She laughed. “I’d rather stay down here and watch.”

“I see.” I looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath before I sat up straight. I started removing my gloves, pulling at the velcro around my wrists with my teeth. “Come in here and give me a kiss at least?”

“If you insist.” Beatrice mumbled, pressing her hands onto the floor of the ring before she hoisted herself up with a small grunt. “This is too much physical exercise for me, Styles. I’ve already done one workout with you.”

“I’m just getting you prepared.” I smiled up at her as she stood over me. “I want you nice and prepped for our big workout tonight.”

“You two are disgusting.” Gemma groaned, her face twisting up. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Bugger off then!” I laughed, tossing my hand about. “I ain’t gonna stop now, so here’s your warning.”

Beatrice dropped to her knees beside me, holding back laughter as she grabbed my arm.

“I knew you boxed, but seeing it in person is extremely erotic.” She mumbled, pulling the velcro away from the glove before she pulled it from my hand. “You’ve already seduced me, you don’t have to keep trying.”

“That goes both ways.” I let out a breathy chuckle, shaking my head at her. “What on earth possessed you to take those pictures in the changing room?”

“You.” She glanced up at me as she started to undo my wrap. “I was sitting there, looking at myself in that bodysuit...and you just popped into my head. I wasn’t gonna do it first, though. I couldn’t get a good picture by myself, so Tara helped out a little.”

“Remind me to buy her a car or something as a thank you.” I teased, bumping my shoulder into her arm. “You do know that you’re beautiful, right? Like...not to be a proper dick, but you’re one of the fittest girls I’ve ever seen in my whole life, and that’s coming from my heart and not my trousers.”

“Harry.” She laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the other wrist, her eyes avoiding mine at all costs. “You don’t have to sing such high praises-”

“Apparently I do, because you don’t seem to get it.” I whispered, sliding my free hand to her side for a quick squeeze. “You. are. Beautiful.”

I watched her cheeks turn red, her hips shifting about as she pulled the other glove off.

“I won’t stop saying it until you feel it.” I leaned closer, pressing my lips to her collarbone as she started working on the wrap. “I’ll say it a million times a day.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you see me that way, Harry.” She mumbled. “It’s just that I can’t believe it or see it myself, you know?”

I stopped, looking at her as she continued to work on my hand.

When my wrap was fully removed, I lifted both of my palms to her face as I sat up on my knees in front of her. I brushed my thumbs over her cheeks, my brows pulling together as she swallowed harshly. I could see a light glaze over her eyes, almost as if she were going to cry.

“Who made you feel like you’re not beautiful?” I asked her, watching her eyes cast down towards her knees. “Who hurt you?”

“No one.” She mumbled. “It’s not like I can sit and point fingers at every major company or magazine that put me down because of my weight or my body. I can’t individually list every person that’s ever called me names. I can’t sit and add it all up, because that makes it worse. So I just...let it go. You should too.”

I watched her look up at me with an unsure smile, and it nearly broke my heart.

“You are perfect the way that you are.” I moved my forehead closer to hers. “Fuck them all, Beatrice. From the magazines, to the fashion industry, to the people around you that make you feel less than perfect for feeling comfortable in your own skin. I saw how much fun you were having when you took those photos, and I knew that you were feeling good about yourself...so why let those people drag you back down?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s just how the female brain works. We take one step forward in progress and then we leap five steps back when we get a glimpse of peace.”

“Well, we’re not taking steps back anymore.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, closing my eyes as I inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “I know it’s hard to love yourself, especially when the whole world is telling you not to, but we have each other now. We’re not alone in this.”

I watched her eyes narrow, her head tilting to the side as she stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Who hurt you?” She asked. “Harry, please tell me that you don’t...if anyone in this relationship is perfect, it’s-”

I pressed my lips to hers, sliding my palms to the side of her neck as she let out a surprised squeak. Seconds later, she melted into my kiss, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly as I brushed my tongue over her bottom lip. It took us seconds to find our way to the floor, her legs spreading just enough for me to slot my hips between them. I felt my hand slip down, cupping her breast over the thin, satin tank top that she put on. The soft pink color looked beautiful on her, and I was envious of the blouse as it clung to her body in such a flattering manner.

“Don’t ever do that.” I pulled back, looking into her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. “I know that the world has me on some pedestal, but I’m just Harry. I’m your boyfriend, and I’m going to make mistakes just the same as you. I’m not any better than you, Beatrice, and I never want you to feel that way. We’re equals, and I will never let you put yourself down just to build me up.”

“Kiss me.” She gripped my shoulders, pulling me into her lips again.

I felt the stirring in the lower pit of my stomach, a soft burn accompanied by the blood flowing straight to my cock. I groaned, sliding my tongue past her lips just so I could hear those beautiful noises she made in the heat of the moment. It was almost as if she couldn’t contain her feelings in her body, so they had to escape in soft hums. I felt her fingers gripping at my arms, desperate to pull me closer to her body as she shifted her hips against the mat.

I pulled away, pressing my forehead to hers as my chest heaved.

Kissing her made me more breathless than my workout.

“You’re intoxicating.” I let out a breathless chuckle, sliding my palm from her breast to her neck. I brushed my thumb over her jaw, closing my eyes. “And you smell fucking amazing, what is that?”

“I spoiled myself with a new perfume today.” She chuckled, sliding her fingers over my forearm before wrapping them around my wrist. “It’s by Chloe.”

“It smells delightful.” I ducked my head down, brushing my nose over her skin. “Like roses.”

“I think it’s called Roses De Chloe, if I’m not mistaken.” She let out a shuddery breath when I kissed over the skin of her neck. “You’re dangerous, Harry Styles.”

“You have no idea.” I chuckled, lifting my head up. “C’mon, I need to shower before dinner.”

“And I need to be present?” She lifted her brows up as I settled on my knees.

“I would prefer that you’re present.” I chuckled, reaching for my water bottle. “I want to hear about your day.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” She sighed, raising her upper half with her palms behind her on the mat.

“And maybe, I can sneak in a couple more kisses before tonight.” I watched her drop her head back, laughing until a little snort slipped out. “Just when I think you can’t get any cuter, you do something like that.”

“Oh, yes, the snort is so cute.” She rolled her head forward, sending me a blank stare. “Let’s go, casanova, you do need a shower.”

“Rude.”

🐟🐟🐟🐟

Bea’s POV

“I almost got a haircut today.” I scrolled on my phone, curling my feet under my legs as Harry continued to shower. “I mean, that’s not that interesting seeing as I didn’t, but I thought about it.”

“I think you would look cute with short hair.” Harry called over the spray of the shower. “I just don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have something to pull into a ponytail when you’re-”

“Don’t say it.” I glanced over my phone, watching him smile at me through the steamed glass of the shower.

“C’mon, you know you’d miss that feeling.” He chuckled, sliding his abnormally large hands over his head as he tilted it back towards the spray of the shower.

“I’ve only given you one blowjob, sir.” I tilted my chin up. “I don’t know that I would miss it.”

“Giving me blowjobs or having me pull your hair?” He asked. “We can test both of those theories out right now if you want.”

“Maybe later, darling.” I rolled my eyes, glancing back at my phone. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“I am.” He said. “I’m so thrilled to get this tour over with, honestly. I love every single moment of it, don’t get me wrong, but I need some time off.”

“You’ve been a busy boy.” I nodded. “You never really took a serious break between the band and your solo stuff, squid.”

“I didn’t want to.” He said casually. “I need to be working, Beatrice. I literally don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I know what you mean.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I mean, I’m not necessarily pulling the hours that you are, but I am a workaholic like you.”

“That’s not good.” He turned the shower off, talking through a soft chuckle as he pulled the door open. “If we’re both workaholics, who’s going to take time off to visit the other.”

“You.” I pointed at him with my phone, offering him a smile. “You’re the one on break, aren’t ya?”

“Touche.” He stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel on the hook next to the sink with furrowed brows. “Why are you on the floor?”

“It’s comfier than sitting on the sink.” I shrugged, looking up at him. “You smell delectable.”

“Thanks.” He leaned down, stealing a kiss. “Want a taste?”

I rolled my lips in, looking into his eyes as he toweled his hair off.

“Yeah, actually.” I mumbled, dropping my phone to the floor on top of my shoes. “I might want a taste.”

Harry’s eyes snapped to mine as I rolled onto my knees, pressing my palms to his damp thighs.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “I didn’t actually think… you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” I dug my nails into his thighs, smirking when he hissed out. “Lean against the sink for me? I don’t want you to fall.”

“Okay.” He shuffled back a few steps, pressing his bum to the edge of the sink as I moved closer to him.

Harry’s eyes were glued to me as I kissed over the small tattoos on his legs.

They were mostly silly little words, but I found them adorable.

I let my right hand move from the tiger tattoo on his thigh to the base of his cock, my fingertips trailing over a vein in his shaft. I watched his cock twitch, a small drop of precum bubbling from the red tip. I was curious to know more about Harry’s body, and the things that I could do to it. He was only the second guy that I had seen naked like this, but I was proud to say that he was my favorite. I liked his cock, and I loved how it reacted to the smallest of touches from me.

“You have a very pretty cock.” I mumbled, glancing up at him as he gripped the edge of the sink with white knuckles. “It seems to like attention, huh?”

“Just yours.” He cleared his throat, shifting his hips around. “Please, angel.”

“Be patient.” I whispered, sliding my forefinger over his tip. “I’m admiring it.”

It was slowly growing harder with each second that I stared at it, my fingertips still lightly tracing over the shaft. Harry was breathing heavily above me, his chest heaving and his grip tight on the porcelain behind him. I loved watching his thighs and his tummy tense when I leaned closer, my breath brushing over the sensitive area ever so slightly. I had him wrapped already, and I couldn’t wait to test just how much willpower he had.

Part of me wanted him to tangle his fingers in my hair before pulling my mouth onto his cock. I wanted him to groan and growl out filthy words while I gasped for air. I wanted to be everything he wanted me to be while I was on my knees in front of him. I knew that he had a bit of a dominant streak in him, just like I had a submissive one in me, but we weren’t quite there yet.

“What are you waiting for?” I glanced up at him. “I thought we were testing out if I’d miss having your hands in my hair while I sucked you off?”

“You are trouble.” He lifted a hand from the sink, cupping my chin gently. “I see it in your eyes, you know? I know what you want me to do, but I won’t do it unless you beg.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” I said sweetly.

“Don’t play coy, angel.” He brushed his thumb over my lower lip as he mumbled, causing me to smirk up at him. “You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?”

“Sounds pleasant, I suppose.” I shrugged my shoulders

Harry’s lips curved into a smirk that reminded me of the cheshire cat.

“You’re a bit of a brat, aren’t you?” He tilted my chin up higher, watching my face as I tried to contain my smile. “Sweet Beatrice, you are treading on very thin ice.”

“Am I?” I asked softly. “I feel like I’m being such a good girl.”

“You know that you’re not.”

I moan when I felt his thumb slip past my lips, brushing over my tongue before he pulled it right back out. I leaned forward, pulling it back into my mouth as Harry’s eyes turned from light to dark. I could see the intense look burning behind the soft Jade color of his irises.

“You’re teasing me again.” He let out a shuddery sigh, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when I get you home.”

I pulled back from his thumb with a pop, smiling up at him as his hand gripped the base of his cock. I watched him stroke over the shaft twice, holding back soft whimpers as he did.

“Open your mouth.” He said it sternly, but I could see the hint of softness left in him.

He wanted to make sure that I was okay.

I stuck my tongue out, settling my palms on my thighs as I waited for him to finally give me what I wanted. He rested the head of his cock on my tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixed with a hint of his body wash. I closed my mouth around the head, lapping my tongue over the slit of his cock as he hissed. Seconds later, his right hand was digging into the roots of my hair.

“Your fucking mouth, angel.” He dropped his head back, letting out a high pitched whine. “Feels so good wrapped around me, Beatrice.”

I hummed softly, moving as far as I could go on his shaft.

He was thick, but not overly so, and the length of his cock was perfect for my mouth.

I could hardly make it to the base of his cock, but I was happy with making it halfway at least. I pulled back, suckling harshly when I made it to the tip. Harry’s hips jutted forward in response, causing his cock to slip right back into my mouth. I moaned around him, closing my eyes as I dug my nails into his thighs. I moved my head slowly, trying to figure out the perfect pace.

I hadn’t had much practice, but this was my third blowjob, so I liked to think I had the basics down. Harry seemed to think so too, his fingers pulling my roots tighter as he moved his hips gently in and out of my mouth. He was nowhere near my throat, and I was thankful for that. I wasn’t quite ready to test out that area of pleasure when it came to blowjobs. I didn’t know how I would handle having someone literally pushing into my throat just yet.

“I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Open your eyes, Beatrice.”

I did as I was told, looking up at him.

“Use your hands and…” He inhaled sharply when I suckled on the head of his cock again before moving my lips down. “Please just play with my-”

I knew what he was trying to ask, my fingers already finding their way to his balls.

I brushed my thumb over the skin at first, testing out the waters before I started to really massage them between my fingers. Harry’s hips stuttered forward as he cursed loudly, dropping his head forward as I stared up at him. The second his glazed over eyes locked with mine, it was all over. He lowered his left hand to my head, sliding his fingers through the roots as he held himself in my mouth, his cum coating the center of my tongue as he cried out.

When he was done, he pulled himself out, and I swallowed with a scrunched up nose.

“You didn’t have to swallow.” He chuckled, reaching down to brush his thumb under my lips. “I would have moved for you.”

“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “I didn’t mind it.”

“Your face said otherwise.” He laughed a little harder. “Thank you, honey, that was really nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up towards him. “Help me up, my knees are sore.”

“Sorry.” he grabbed my hands, pulling me up to my feet. “Give me a kiss.”

“You want to kiss me?” I asked him, pulling my head back as he leaned forward. “Don’t you want me to like, brush my teeth first?”

“No.” His brows furrowed. “I want your lips.”

“But...I thought guys didn’t like…” I paused, tilting my head. “Nevermind.”

“No, finish that sentence.” he said. “You thought guys didn’t like what?”

“Kissing someone after they’ve...you know?” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry stared back at me.

“Is that what the guy before me said? The guy that you tried this out on a while ago?” He asked softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in soft circles.

“Yeah.” I mumbled. “He also kind of didn’t give me a choice on the whole spit or swallow thing.”

“He sounds like a fucking prick.” Harry’s jaw tensed as he inhaled sharply, shaking his head with a stern expression. “Don’t ever let a man treat you like that again, do you hear me? I don’t ever want you to do something because you think I’ll like it. We both have to enjoy it if this is going to work.”

“I wanted that with you.” I brushed my palms over his pecs, sliding them up to his neck. “I just...I didn’t know.”

“Well, you do now.” He leaned forward, brushing his nose against mine. “I’m a lucky bastard for being able to have your mouth like that, the least I can do is kiss you after and call you a good girl.”

“Don’t call me a good girl.” I closed my eyes, pressing my thighs together.

“S’that turn you on?” He laughed, sliding his hands to my lower back. “But you were so good for me, angel. After you were a total brat, of course.”

“That’s my favorite part.” I opened my eyes, offering him a smile. “I like being a brat.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, his lips pressed together as he tried not to smile.

“We’re going to have so much fun.” He whispered, leaning closer to my lips with his own. “I’m going to wreck you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I snorted out a laugh, but Harry cut it off with a kiss. “You really are the type to kiss someone in the middle of-”

His lips pressed into mine again, and I melted.

🍆🍆🍆🍆

Harry’s POV

Beatrice and Claire were a force to be reckoned with.

Three tequila shots and a watermelon margarita later, and they were both ready to party. I watched Bea toss the tequila shots back like water, reaching for the lime as her nose scrunched up ever so slightly. I tried to hide the proud smile I was wearing, but it was hard to do that when my girlfriend was crushing my favorite liquor like it was water. Gemma wasn’t quiet about catching my smile either, her elbow digging into my side.

“You’re in love.” She sang out. “Look at her, like another version of you.”

“In my younger days.” I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t party like that anymore.”

“Yes you can.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “You’re dramatic.”

“Eh, just a little.” I smiled over at her. “Have you two been getting along?”

“We’ve talked some, yeah.” Gemma nodded, digging her spoon into a mountain of mashed potatoes. “She reminds me a lot of you in certain ways, but there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on.”

“Something that you don’t like or?” I waited for her response as she let out a soft noise of uncertainty. “What?”

“I just think that she’s one of those people that puts her own needs aside to please everyone else, you know?” Gemma sighed. “It's not a bad thing, but it can be harmful.”

“I’ve noticed that too.” I scratched at my jaw. “But it doesn’t make me want her any less.”

“Oh, I know.” Gemma rolled her eyes. “When you fixate on someone, you’re like a fucking dog with their new favorite toy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I bumped her shoulder with my own. “I get it, you think I’ll forget about my favorite sister.”

“You did when you were with Hannah...and Madison...and Samantha-”

“Got it.” I said sharply, glaring at her. “Gemma, I know that I’ve been a proper dick about relationships in the past, but I just...I want someone to love. Is that such a bad thing?”

“It is when you put everyone else aside and focus on someone toxic.” She was such a smart ass sometimes, and I hated it. “But I don’t think Bea is toxic. I just think she’s a little innocent.”

I snorted, but I quickly wiped my hand over my mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” Gemma narrowed her eyes at me. “I meant in worldly matters, not in the bedroom.”

“She’s pretty innocent in the bedroom too.” Claire’s voice made me jump, my hand pressing to my chest as Gemma turned her head back. “She’s still a virgin...right, Harry?”

“Oh my god.” I felt my face heat up as Claire plopped into the seat beside Gemma. “Can I see your spoon, Gem? I would like to scoop my eyes out now.”

“So many things that I didn’t need to know.” Gemma mumbled, glancing at Claire. “You’re insane, I like that.”

“Good.” Claire smiled at Gemma, reaching over to steal a green bean off of her plate. “I think you’re pretty fucking awesome too.”

Gemma laughed, shaking her head at Claire as she reached for a water bottle.

“In all honesty, she is pretty innocent, but she’s also pretty smart.” Claire said. “Even though she’s most definitely losing it with Sarah over there.”

I turned my head around, watching Sarah and Beatrice lean into each other as they both laughed. I raised my brows, looking back at Claire who just shrugged her shoulders.

“They both had an emo phase, and to them, that’s hysterical.” Claire sipped at her water. “I didn’t know Mitch’s birthday was yesterday, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “We did a pre-party for him, it was fun.”

“I feel bad for stealing his birthday thunder.” Claire pouted her bottom lip out. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have soaked up being in the spotlight light last night.”

“I’m sure Mitch enjoyed it.” Gemma said. “He’s not one for being the center of attention.”

“Very odd, isn’t it.” Claire hummed. “For both of us to be cancers, but to be so different.”

“Natal chart.” Gemma pointed her spoon towards Claire. “It makes a world of difference.”

“On that note, I’m leaving.” I stood up from my chair, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Gemma’s head before I nodded at Claire. “I’m keeping my eyes on you two tonight, you seem dangerous.”

“Wait until she starts trying to take her clothes off.” Claire moved her eyebrows, biting her tongue between her teeth.

“Oh fuck me.” I groaned, dropping my head back before I walked around the long table, heading in the direction of Sarah and Bea.

“You two look like you’re having a good laugh.” I looked between them with raised brows.

“Sarah showed me a picture of her hair in highschool.” Bea pressed her palm over her mouth, her eyes watering as Sarah laughed harder next to her.

“Oh my goodness.” I chuckled, sitting down next to them. “I haven’t seen that, let me see.”

“No, for Bea’s eyes only.” Sarah wheezed, snatching her phone against her chest. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’re stealing my friends.” I glanced back at Beatrice as she silently laughed, hunching over as I let out a breathy laugh through my nose. “Is this the tequila, or do I need to get you an inhaler, honey?”

“I’m fine.” She waved her hand about, taking a deep breath before she wiped under her eyes to collect the fallen tears. “I just haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

“I’m glad my hair was amusing.” Sarah giggled, patting Beatrice’s thigh. “I’ve got to go find my boyfriend, I haven’t shown him this picture yet.”

“So everyone gets to see it but me?” I watched Sarah nod as she stood up. “Rude, Sarah Jones.”

“I love you, Harry Styles.” She dropped her hand to my head, ruffling my hair. “But, no.”

Beatrice let out another round of giggles at that, and I turned my eyes towards her.

“I’ll get you for this later.” I reached over, tickling her side before she squeaked out. “You seriously can’t get any cuter.”

“Stop.” She groaned, swatting my hand away as she pouted. “I’m ticklish.”

“Good.” I chuckled. “I’ve been away far too long, where is my kiss?”

“Needy man.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine. “I’m excited for the show to start, I can’t wait to see you dancing around like a fool on stage. What was it that you said earlier? You were going to have me dripping down my legs?”

I inhaled sharply as she tilted her head, kissing the soft spot below my ear.

“Claire warned me that tequila made you horny.” I brushed my palm up her thigh. “Easy there, honey.”

“Oops.” She pulled back, her cheeks practically glowing red. “I forgot about the other people in the room.”

“S’alright.” I lifted my hand, brushing my thumb over her chin. “Just don’t want to get worked up before I have to sit in the hair and makeup chair.”

“Oh, makeup!” She exclaimed. “I still have to get ready.”

“You can get ready with me.” I said. “We’ll sit side by side.”

“How cute.” She pouted again, tilting her head to the side like she’d just seen a cute puppy dog walking down the street. “You’re sweet.”

“And you’re tipsy.” I laughed. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

She shook her head. “I was waiting for you.”

“C’mon, let’s grab a plate or two and figure out what we want.” I reached for her hand, standing up before she followed suit. “One more kiss?”

“Okay.” She pressed up on her toes, kissing my cheek. “Oh, I wonder if you have fries around here somewhere. You know the old saying, fries before guys.”

“Excuse me.” I followed behind her as she giggled, shaking my head. “No, it’s guys before fries here.”

I was going to have my hands full with this one.

🍟 🍟 🍟🍟

Bea’s POV

When I walked out of the bathroom, pulling my faux leather jacket on, my jaw nearly hit the ground. I stopped in my tracks, looking at Harry with parted lips and wide eyes as he turned around and held his arms out for Lambert. I watched him shrug his jacket on, shimmying his shoulders until it rested comfortably on his frame. Harry looked up at me, shooting me a grin that made me knees feel wobbly. I cleared my throat, adjusting my own jacket before I walked closer to him with sweaty palms and a frog in my throat.

“You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, holding my elbow with his massive hand before he pressed a kiss to my temple. “Have you put on the lacy thing for me?”

“Yeah, I have.” I sucked in a breath as he lifted the lapel of my jacket, his eyes burning when they landed on the bodysuit. “Better in person?”

“Much.” He mumbled, glancing up at me with a lopsided grin, his dimple just barely visible. “If there weren’t other people in this room, I’d kiss the breath right out of your lungs.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back a groan as his voice dropped.

“Sadly, there are plenty of people!” Lambert interrupted. “And I refuse to see this shirt ruined by that gorgeous red lipstick you’ve got on, Beatrice. What is that?”

“Um, Revlon.” I said softly. “I think the shade is Black Cherry or something like that.”

“Revlon.” Lambert muttered. “You wear it well, darling.”

“Thank you.” I felt my cheeks heat up as Harry smiled at me, almost as if he was proud of my ability to impress his friends.

“Now, you two are off to watch Kacey’s set, but please be careful with the jacket.” Lambert brushed his hands over Harry’s arms. “We don’t want too many sequins gone before your set.”

“I’ll try to keep the dancing to a minimum.” Harry laughed, shaking his head at Lambert. “Thanks for being such a wonderful addition to the team, mate. I don’t know what the fuck I would done without you.”

“Probably would have worn those dreadful black skinny jeans on stage for the entire tour.” I tried to hold back my laugh, slapping my palm over my hand at Lambert's words. “And those chelsea boots, the tan ones? I’m getting nauseous thinking about it.”

“Oi, I was fit!” Harry exclaimed. “I pulled it off well, didn’t I Bea?”

“There was a reason Niall was my favorite.” I shrugged.

“Excuse me?” He blinked at me, his face blank. “Niall looked like a fucking frat boy-”

“You had a phase.” I pointed out. “You all went through a frat boy phase with your snapbacks and your cut off shirts.”

“But I was the only one who pulled it off well.” He held his finger up, waving it about. “Niall was nowhere near as attractive as I in the snapback.”

“You fucker!”

Harry and I snapped our heads around at the new voice in the room.

The second I lay my eyes on the dirty blonde Irishman, I felt like my heart was going to fall out of my ass. Niall stood there in the doorway with his hands held up, a look of mock offense on his face. I turned to Harry, my jaw practically on the floor as he stared at his old mate.

“Niall!” Harry said. “You made it, lucky charms!”

“I heard what you said, Styles.” Horan pointed his finger, putting on a fake angry expression before his eyes darted towards me. “Is she alright?”

Harry looked back at me, his brows raised as I looked between him and Niall, my finger weakly pointing at my childhood crush.

“That’s Niall Horan.” I said softly as Harry walked up to me. “That’s Niall Horan.”

“Okay, let’s breathe.” Harry chuckled, brushing his hands over my biceps, holding me in place as I tried to peer around him. “I’m offended that you weren’t this shell shocked when we met.”

“You aren’t Niall Horan.” I said, looking up at him. “That’s….I had such a huge crush on him.”

Harry ducked his head down, his breath tickling my ear.

“Do I need to take you into the bathroom and remind you who you’re here for?”

I felt my eyes flutter shut, a soft whine catching in my throat as Harry nipped at my earlobe before pressing a quick kiss to my pulse point. I almost felt dizzy when he lifted his head up with that dazzling smirk on his lips. I cleared my throat, shifting on my feet.

“Answer me.” He said. “Do you need that?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Oh, angel, you look flustered.” He cooed, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“I’m good.” I cleared my throat, willing my voice to go back to normal. “I was just a little shocked, that’s all.”

“Gimme a kiss.” He puckered his lips out dramatically, and I let out a breathy laugh. “There she is.”

I pressed up on my toes, kissing his cheek.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. “I just...he just popped up out of nowhere. I need a warning for these kind of things.”

“Next time I’ll sing a good ol’ pub song while I’m walking down the hall so you know I’m coming for you, love.” Niall laughed at himself, and I couldn’t help but laugh along as Harry turned around with an unamused expression. “You gonna introduce us, Styles?”

“This is my girlfriend, Bea.” Harry slipped his hand over my back. “Beatrice, this is Niall.”

“Hi.” I held my hand out, but Niall swatted it away before opening his arms.

“I like hugs.”

“She’s not hugging you.” Harry held me back, scowling at Niall.

I turned my head back to look at Harry, my lips pressed together and my brows raised as if to say ‘oh, really?’ to his comment. I could hug whoever I wanted, and right now, I wanted to make Harry jealous by hugging Niall fucking Horan.

“I’m hugging him.” I said, moving closer to Niall. “Don’t be sour.”

“He is a bit of a sour patch kid, isn’t he?” Niall laughed as I wrapped my arms around his middle, giggling when he tossed his arms around my shoulders. “I can’t believe Harry’s got himself a decent girl.”

“You just met me, you don’t know that I’m decent yet.” I pulled back with a laugh, retreating to my spot next to Harry. “But I’ll take the compliment all the same.”

“Thatta girl.” Niall winked at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets, turning towards Harry with a bright smile. “I’m excited to see your show tonight.”

“It’s gonna be weird, knowing that you’re out in the crowd watching instead of performing with me.” Harry blew out a nervous breath, shaking his head. “And it doesn’t help that you’re not the only one here. Liam is coming tonight, fucking Kendall will be here...I’m pretty sure a few other people will be here tonight too.”

“Well, Kendall is fucking tone deaf, so I don’t think she’ll notice if you fuck up.” Niall cackled, tossing his head back. “And I doubt you’ll fuck up at all, you’re a star mate.”

“So are you, Horan.” Harry reached out, tapping Niall’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too.” Niall’s voice was softer, a happy smile still on his face. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years apart.”

“I’m gonna cry.” I whispered, waving my hand in front of my eyes as they started to water. “I’m having flashbacks of the History music video, I don’t need this today.”

“You got yourself a fan.” Niall asked, his brows shooting up towards his hairline. “Is that why she was so wigged out a second ago?”

“Yeah.” I spoke up. “You were my favorite.”

“I was?” Niall asked, his head tilting to the side. “Am I not anymore.”

“I mean…” I turned towards Harry, sliding my arm around his waist before I looked back at Niall with a small giggle. “Look at this one, mate! He’s so dreamy and he’s romantic.”

“I can be romantic.” Niall exclaimed.

Harry snorted, turning his head to spit out a fake cough to save himself.

“What was that for?” Niall said. “I can be romantic!”

“Sure, mate.” Harry reached out, patting Niall’s shoulder again as a knock sounded at his dressing room door. “Oh look, more people.”

I turned my head to the doorway, suddenly intimidated by the three women walking in.

Claire, Kendall, and Hannah (Harry's most recent ex) walked in together.

I automatically felt inferior to them, and not just because I was much shorter.

Even my own best friend fit in better with that group than I did, her perfect brown skin and long legs practically identical to the other two women. Harry clearly had a type for summer goddesses with a knack for modeling, and it made me wonder why he didn’t pick Claire over me. They would have made such a beautiful couple.

“I want you to meet Kenny.” Harry squeezed my side. “She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Sure.” I gave him a tight smile, swallowing my nerves as I felt my palms sweat.

I didn’t know a lot about Kendall or her family, but I never heard anything good.

I also didn’t know how to talk to someone of her status.

“Ken!” Harry said her name so casually, like he was used to calling it out. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Fuck.

She set her eyes on me, scanning me from head to toe before plastering on a smile and strutting over in her mega high heels. I owned a pair similar to hers, but mine came from Walmart, and hers were probably from Dior. She stopped in front of us, affectionately touching Harry’s bicep with a soft hell before she turned to look down at me.

“Hi.” She said. “I’m Kendall.”

“Beatrice.” I stuck my hand out to her nervously, but she just looked at it. I had a feeling that she wasn’t a hugger like Niall. “Um, you can call me Bea though.”

“Bea.” She nodded as I pulled my hand back. “Where did you two meet?”

“At a bar last night.” Harry laughed softly, squeezing my side as he shot me a wink. It eased my nerves just a little. “Swept her right off of her feet.”

“So that is how we’re telling the story?” I chuckled, turning my attention towards him instead of the nerve wracking situation in front of me. “I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

“I never am.” He sighed dramatically, pursing his lips before he leaned in for a quick kiss. “So, Ken, where’s your man tonight?”

Oh, thank god.

“He’s just talking shit with Jeff, I think.” She turned her head, scanning the dressing room before she rolled her eyes. “I honestly don’t want to see his face tonight, he’s being annoying.”

“Oh no.” Harry laughed softly. “What have you done?”

“Me, I did nothing?” She pressed her fingers to her collarbone, scoffing playfully. “I merely said we should vacation in Mykonos with my family-”

“There it is.” Harry interrupted.

“What’s wrong with vacationing with my family?” Kendall asked, tilting her head to the side with a frown. “Everyone loves it!”

“No, they don’t.” Harry shook his head. “I remember your Mum made us-”

He stopped, shifting on his feet as he looked at me.

“Don’t mind me.” I said. “You can keep talking, I can go find Claire or-”

“That would be great-”

“Don’t go-”

Harry and Kendall spoke at the same time, and I rolled my lips into my mouth as they both looked at each other in shock.

“Um, well,” I stuttered, slowly pulling myself from Harry’s arm. “You clearly need a moment, so I’m just gonna go somewhere that isn’t right here.”

I turned, walking towards Claire and Niall like there was a fire under my ass.

“Oh my god.” I whispered, grabbing Claire’s arm. “I feel like I was just met the fucking queen or something! I mean, the way she looked at me, Claire-”

“She’s not very nice.” Claire laughed, sliding her arm around my shoulder. “It’s alright though, I’m a much better model than her and I plan on dragging her ass down the runway one day.”

“Thank you.” I squeaked out, letting out a laugh as Niall chuckled in front of us. “Sorry, I know you’re probably friends with her too, I just-”

“Not friends.” Niall said, shaking his head. “Never have been, never will be.”

“Fair.” I sighed, taking a few deep breaths. “Oh, Claire, it’s Niall!”

“Yeah, we’ve been chatting for a minute over here babe.” She laughed. “He introduced himself.”

“Right.” I laughed nervously. “There’s a lot happening.”

“You need a break?” Niall asked. “Because the three of us can sneak off for a drink, I doubt anyone will notice we’re gone.”

I turned my head, looking at Harry as he laughed with Kendall and Hannah.

It hurt just a tiny bit to see him so chummy with his exes, but who was I to judge.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I turned back to Niall with a fake smile. “Let’s go.”

Harry’s POV

“So, what’s the deal with this new girl?” Kendall asked. “She’s...different.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating.” I said slowly, my brows pulling together. “Why did you say it like that?”

“She just, doesn’t seem like your type.” She shrugged, brushing it off as if it was no big deal. “I haven’t seen you with someone like her before.”

“Kenny has a point.” Hanna interrupted, looking at me with raised brows. “You don’t typically go for her type.”

“Okay, you’re both being vague and annoying.” I let out a frustrated huff. “What are you getting at?”

“She’s not stepping on the cover of Vogue anytime soon.” Kendall shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Because-” I waited for them to speak, but they both glanced at each other.

“Well, she’s bigger than what you normally go for, and she’s a little plain.” Hannah said. “It’s not really like you to downgrade.”

“Right.” I let out a bitter laugh, lifting my hand to scratch at my jaw as I felt anger boiling up from my chest to my throat. “Fuck you...both of you. I don’t know where you get off insulting someone you don’t even know, but that shit doesn’t matter to everyone. Beatrice could put a paper bag over her head, and it wouldn’t make me want her any less. Do you know why?”

They both stared at me as I waited for an answer.

“Because she has a fucking heart, and a beautiful mind.” I snapped. “You two are a bunch of gossiping trust fund babies with no morals.”

I turned around, stalking towards the door of my dressing room without second thought.

I slammed it behind me before I turned down the hall, walking straight for catering.

When I walked into the room, Beatrice was sitting between Niall and Claire sipping on a watermelon margarita with pink cheeks and a bright smile. I felt my anger dissipate in my chest, her laughter distracting me from the cruel words replaying in my head. I let out a sigh, feeling my shoulders slump before I walked towards the cheerful group.

“Hey.” I said, dropping into the seat next to Bea’s. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” She asked me, squinting playfully with pursed lips. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

“It was dreadful, believe me.” I leaned closer, stealing a kiss from her. “Are you having fun?”

“So much.” She smiled, kissing me once more. “I can’t wait to get out there though. I think Kacey is on in ten minutes.”

“Sounds right.” I let out a breath, pressing my palm to Beatrice’s thigh. “Finish up your drink, honey. I’ll have Larissa make us more before Jeff takes us to the side stage.”

“Okay.” She gave me a bright smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, tilting my head to the side curiously.

“For being so sweet.” She mumbled. “I adore you.”

My heart practically screamed in my chest, the hairs raising up on the back of my neck as I felt my lips pull into a huge smile. I let out a giggle, ducking my head down as my cheeks warmed.

Beatrice brushed her fingers over the back of my neck as I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her the best that I could from my chair.

“I adore you, too.”

#honeybee #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles series #harry styles multi-chapter fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fluff #harry smut #harry angst #tw: kendall jenner #tw: bullying

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aria-chicken-flugget · 4 years

Text

MC reacts to The Brothers (+Undateables)

In a crop top ~ yum

For @beelzebubs1trulove and for me too ngl

*NSFW* ish / undertones - these turned into mini drabbles ?? Lol?? Sorry??

The Brothers

Lucifer 🔥

He freezes, his eyes narrow slits as they focus on you

“You want me to wear a what?”

You’d have to be very close to make that kind of request of him if he’s never worn one

He’s anxious it would damage his pride and so would vehemently dismiss the idea

“Luci ~” you’d lilt, winding your arms around his tense shoulders from behind, distracting him from his work

He knew that lilt. That lilt for when you wanted something quite specific. You were hellbent to get what you wanted

Consider the interest of this Sadist TM piqued as you toy with his raven locks, coyly starting cat and mouse teasing

“My answer was no.” “Was is a conditional, so that means there’s room for debate.”

He’d smirk at your coy and almost sly attitude, swiveling around so that he could grip your hips,

“You’re as troublesome as ever, twisting my words to suit your desires.” “:)”

You’d give him That Smile TM, when you wanted something. How could he refuse?

“And what if i refuse? What will you surrender to me in compensation?”

You’d bite your lip - he’s cracking, considering it

I’ll let you imagine what you’d be willing to do in compensation lol

He’d tighten his grip on your hips at the insinuation, your sweet words caressing the shell of his ear

It took everything he had not to demand payment up front, if you catch my drift

He’d ensure you swore not to tell a soul (nor demon ofc) no one. This would be private for you and no one else, or he won’t do it not even if you begged.

You’d stay true to your word, desperate to see him in the crop... you were not disappointed

You were leisurely atop his sheets when he finally revealed himself with a distinct cough, to clear his throat and make his presence known

Your jaw dropped. The Crop was an inky black and appeared to be water woven silk, one shoulder sliding down.

His cheeks tinged rouge as he brought himself to look you in the eye, a silent plea for you to say something. Anything.

You swallowed a golf ball sized lump as you rose from the sheets, approaching tentatively, finger tips mindlessly stroking the fabric

You could feel his abdominal muscles clench from underneath the satin fabric, a sharp breath in from his handsome lips

He quickly grew quite fond of your reaction to the clothing item, and how the events of that evening took a turn for the unexpected

Would most definitely wear it again when he wanted you and may try another

Mammon 💵

Makes a sound akin to a “guh!” at your request

Is certain he misheard, until you ask again

“What d’ya think ya talkin’ about, huh? Askin’ me to wear a thing like that...” BLUSH

“But you don’t mind a bit of skin, you’re a model!” “T-that’s not -“ “AND your demon form?! Hello?!” “Hey! That’s not the point!”

The point is, it’s because it’s you asking and his imagination takes him to naughty places due to your request

You’d have to wait a few days before bringing it up again, asking sweetly

He’d be unable to look at you, a blushing and stuttering mess if you tried putting your arms around him to ask

“Why’d ya keep askin’ me somethin’ like that, huh? Quit it...” you’d let go, a little disheartened

“Hey, wait!” He’d unintentionally holler, stumbling after you

As you turn back around, you thread your fingers through his snow white hair, “Come to my room?”

His Adam’s apple would bob uncontrollably as he swallowed, offering a faint nod before snapping back into his usual self

“Ya better not ask this of the others.”

He’d come to your room, bright red and at the door, unable to walk in further

You’d calm him down, casually patting your bed, “What are you doing over there? Come on.” With an easy laugh

He’s won over pretty quickly and at ease

He’s lying on his front atop your sheets, on his D.D.D when you hover over his back, palms either side of his shoulders. He freezes

“Mammon?” You’d call sweetly, brightening the tips of his ears

“Can you please wear this for me?”

You’d ask in a soft whine, making it nearly impossible for him to form a coherent thought, let alone turn you down again

Despite actually wanting to do as you’d asked from the beginning

Your arms ensnaring him in place so he can’t run away, “You’d look so good in it, you should model it for Majolish.”

He can’t get much more blushy or flustered than when you start talking to him like that, he’s a goner

He finally relents, and returns wearing the Crop you picked out for him. Your eyes shamelessly trail his perfect form, far from disappointed

His chin angled towards the floor as he flushes, he’ll snap, “Quit lookin’ at me like that, would ya?”

You can’t help it. The loose white T with tiger print looked so much hotter on him than you expected

You got it cause you thought he’d look so cute in it... which of course, he did but... his exposed torso, coupled with his lean bisceps folding as he waited for you to speak, had made it all the more difficult to do so.

You’d hum in approval, quick to slide your hands under it to make contact with his bare skin if he’d let you

If you were tactless about it, he’d growl. No touchy lol

But if you got him into the right mood, well

He’d gasp in surprise, uttering your name as you roamed his body with your hands

Fingertips ghosting over his lips to hide his vulnerability, as you grip his hips towards you

Things would get a little more heated than intended, but neither of you were complaining

Next time he was more confident and wore a mesh one for you to tear off, he did That Growl TM as you did and it sent you

Levi 👾

Oh boy haha, good luck with that lol

Reacts worse than Mammon

“W-w-wear a C-crop Top?! Me?!”

Instant nosebleed lol

You’d have to get him in the mood, boy won’t just do it out if nowhere. Ever.

His self consciousness would mean it would take A LOT of coaxing. A lot, a lot.

But he would do anything if you were having a little dom-sub play, and it was your turn to dom

Given that he was comfortable enough to do that with you anyway, what’s a little crop in comparison?

“Think of it as a little cosplay...” you’d whisper seductively, hot and damp against his ear before nibbling at his lobe

He’d almost whimper at the request now that you have him where you want him

He’d flush harder than any of the brothers, obvi

“W-what do you want me to do?” teeth sunk into his lower lip as he peered up at you, playing along. AAAAHHHHHH

Your soft hands at his chest, before slowly lifting the hem of his shirt, only breaking eye contact when necessary

He would be speechless watching you

no more hiding, no more excuses. He wants you, like this. He’s not so nervous anymore

You didnt want him to feel too self conscious, so you got him a loose fitting neon crop with a black mesh to go over it

His anxiety had melted away but he was still a little self conscious, you’d have to coax him out a bit more

Would actually really love the feel of the top and the mesh did make him feel better

You thought his body was perfect, literally God given ha ha and wanted him to show it off more

You made sure to say as much, making his heart swell.

you wet your lips at his new clothes, making him flush harder and his hands creep to his face again

You gently removed his hands from his face, “Don’t shy away, you have a perfect body... i love it”

May day may day Levi is dying from loss of blood at the nose

Similarly to Lucifer, you may have to coax him with some promises of gameplay/concert tickets/cosplay and roleplay

“Does... this mean I get to see you in one too?”

His dominant side comes out real fast when you wear a teasingly revealing number, crop and thigh high stockings

He is a goner

Just the thought of someone else possibly seeing you this way darkened his expression

You are in for a wild night w this Dark Horse TM lolol

This side you didn’t often see exhilarated you

You silently thanked your idea for the crop tops

Stay safe kids ahha

Satan 📚

His face would flush, hand flying to his chest, “Excuse me?”

Careful Satan, your Lucifer is showing

You’d thread your fingers through his hair as he’s reading. It’s a risk, sometimes he melts into your touch - other times, well -

“If you’re trying to please me, you’re doing it all wrong.”

His blonde brows would frown, before going back to his book.

You’d huff - what to try next? #Take2 I guess...

You’d hum, sinking onto his lap to straddle his thighs. He’d tense his frame from under you, fingertips whitening on the book he held between your chests

He’d blush, unable to look at you for a moment as you’d try asking again,

“For me? Please?” Voice up an octave to sound cute, rubbing soothing circles into the taut muscles at his shoulders

“Why would you want me to do that?” He’s flushing harder now, less resolve in his voice. Bingo.

“I think you’d look really good...” fingertips trailing to his bowtie, eliciting a nervous chuckle from his throat

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, human.” He almost stuttered. Your seductive eyes would meet his with a coy smile, “please?”

“You really are cruel.” He’d say so quietly as though admitting to a great sin. Your teasing would stop immediately, smile faltering

With gentle fingertips you’d encourage his chin towards you, sincerity in your eyes, “What’s wrong?”

His brilliant emerald orbs searching yours, “If we were to do what you’re insinuating, i’d want it to be more.”

You gasped, realisation hitting you like a smack to the face. Your form relaxed above him, gently carressing his beautiful face,

“What makes you think that I don’t want more?”

You’d brush your lips against his in a gentle carress, winning him over

He’d have to be close enough/comfortable enough in your relationship to do it for you

He feels vulnerable without clothes covering him quite well, even in his demon form

So he’d want you to keep this private and would find it really hard to forgive you if you betrayed that trust, especially to Lucifer

Knowing this, the first time he tried it for you you’d helped him pick out one that was loose, comfortable and longer in the sleeves - revealing his lower abdomen in a tease.

It was green to match his eyes. His eyes searched yours for your thoughts.

The first thing you wanted to do was graze your hands at his exposed hips, his breath caught at your actions

“You look ... so sexy.” You’d praise in a hoarse whisper, he’d make a choking noise

Quickly gaining confidence as your hands roam tentatively at his hips, he’d smirk

“You better enjoy this whilst you can, I won’t be doing it again.”

You’d find a way to convince him into it again, dont worry lol

Asmodeus 💋

Bold of you to assume he isn’t wearing one right now

You two have just come back from a well deserved shopping spree ‘for making it through a particularly boring student council meeting’

Asmo’s wearing a crop that barely covers his chest, skin tight, revealing his perfectly sculpted shoulders

He said it was “‘cause it was hot that day!” even though there is no sun in the Devildom

You two were on your way back to The House of Lamentation when he caught you stealing surreptitious peeks

He’d smirk, “Take a photo of me, it’ll last longer.”

You’d laugh, but your blush would give you away

He’d shift his bags to one hand so that he could hold yours, “Come on, honey - it’s time for our fashion show.”

You’d ask him to go first just so you could gawk at him and his stupidly perfect body

He would not complain - even though you’d already seen the outfits, you wanted to see him in them again

If you were feeling particularly confident, you’d pluck out the small bag containing the crop you bought for him as a surprise

He’d squeal with delight, “Ooh for me? What is it?” You’d deny his snatching grasp with a teasing tut, “It’s a surprise - i want you to wear it tonight.”

His eyes would glaze over with anticipation as he’d hum, shifting slightly, “Watch what you say, you know anything can set me off.”

You’d giggle and he’d add with a pompous air, “If it’s ugly, i’m not wearing it.”

When night came and you’d revealed the crop, he gaped. He was very pleasantly surprised.

It was a maroon, lace number, long sleeved and high collar - it was surprisingly high fashion

You thought I was gonna give him some BDSM leather didn’t you? You cheeky thing you

He slid into it effortlessly with another hum of approval, “ooh i love it, thank you.” Planting a chaste kiss to your cheek

Warmth spread through your chest, he must really love it if he wasn’t trying to immediately come onto you

He flushed, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hand. His adams apple bobbed as he shifted, “You always know what to do to drive my heart wild, don’t you?”

You’d plant a sweet, lingering kiss on his soft lips and share a surprisingly tender night with him

Variety is the spice of life after all, so he had many many more crop tops to satiate your curiosity

“Your turn ;)”

Beelzebub 🍔

Has probably worn a cropped, sleeveless hoodie to work out in

He doesn’t show off his body but is far from self conscious, he works hard for what he’s got

When you ask him to wear one, poor baby won’t see it that way

“Uh, sure okay, why not?”

Would whip out a cropped T-shirt and change infront of you, honey i know, i feel hot just thinking about it

He’d turn to you with That Smile TM coupled with his sweet chuckle, “‘Like this one?”

You’d probably get him to try a bunch on just to see him change lol

If he had the time, which for you he usually did, he’d have no problem being your doll to play dress up with lol

Literally would just let you dress him, as long as the boy has a snack he’s gucci

You quite liked the sleeveless hoodie crop, knowing he works out in it gave it that edge

He’d be comfy, smiling brightly as he’d wrap his big arms around you

You aren’t complaining, you get to feel those abs lolol

If you were feeling confident, you’d roam your hands under the hem, or your hands would wander south -

He’d flush, brows raised slightly, suddenly realising where your thoughts were headed

“So you really like this one, huh?” He’d smile, palms resting comfortably at the small of your back

You’d nod, chewing your bottom lip. His smiling lips would meet yours sweetly, before scooping you up in his arms

Your legs around his waist like a koala, you’d smile, tugging at the drawstrings, “I wanna see you in this more often.”

“Come to the gym with me.” “Lol no.”

“I’d rather see you out of it anyway.” He’d blush as he held you, whispering your name like a blessing

He’d be loving and tender, surprisingly flushed as you’d worship his toned form under that crop

You’d have to try to keep cool if he wore it out, not only would it attract a lot of attention but he wouldn’t really realise

Jealousy wouldn’t really be the problem, it would be more to do with you not gawking at him all day lol

He’d ask you to wear one for him, too, making you flush with anticipation

Would tug at it with his teeth.

You explode

Belphegor 😴

You’d tend to the flyaways of his thick bangs, his head on your lap as your soft hands lull him to sleep

“Belphie?” “Hmm?” “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

You’d grow quiet, teeth sinking to your lower lip as you suddenly felt anxious to ask

He’d prop himself up with a yawn, at attention with dark brows,

“What is it?” It can’t be that bad, he thought

You’d realised as you were in the quiet if that attic that you’d only ever seen him in loose fitting and soft clothes

Your flustered cheeks would grow warmer at the thought of him in a tight crop...

His fingertips would caress your chin as gentle as the breeze, the depths of his eyes swimming, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

You’d eventually utter, “I was wondering if you’d wear something for me... just to try it.”

His brows would raise in surprise, that wasn’t what he thought you’d say at all

At your darting eyes, he quickly melted into a suggestive smile, “What is it you want me to wear?”

His expression would harden slightly as you said ‘tight’, but he was surprisingly willing to hear you out

When you showed him what you had in mind, he was surprised once more, “huh... this one?” “MmmHmm.” “Sure.” “:D”

He’d shrug, much like Beel he’d have no qualms changing in front of you, which surprised you some

You were not complaining though...

It was an off the shoulder number, tight but not constrictive, just well fitted. Perfectly

You found yourself having to slam your jaw shut after gaping in surprise at his lean torso

He appeared almost bored until he noticed your state, his hand creeping to his cheek, “Like what you see, MC?”

He wanted to hear you say it out loud

‘Cause Damn... yes, yes you did like it

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, getting more than you’d bargained for - your imagination didnt hold a candle to the real deal

“Come here.” He’d beckon, tearing you from your reverie

He’d hold you close, somewhere in your mind you’d register that you hadn’t seen this much skin of his... your cheeks heated at the thought for some reason

“I want you in one.” He’d say unabashedly, eyes pirecing yours

You’d gasp, trying not to think of a double meaning

His hands would roam your body with a hum when you did, rather enjoying it himself - suddenly understanding the appeal

Would tear yours

I hope you enjoyed these as much as i enjoyed writing them lolol - when i do the Undateables lol stop it i will link the posts! Due to the nature of these HCs, i will NOT be posting for Luke, obviously. I’ll probs edit these but have them for now! ✨

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dontworrysunflower · 5 years

Text

Taste | Shawn Mendes

(Not my gif)

Anonymous requested: Can I request some fuckin dom!shawn bc this video has got me fucked UP

A/N: anon, me too, the fuck.

Warnings: dom!shawn, smut (obvi), language, also no offense to people named Gavin (you’ll see why). Internal angst? (Does that make sense? No.) Friends with benefits trope.

Enjoy! Masterlist in my bio

•••

You unflatteringly bit your fingernails as you leaned over the counter, moving your glass around, watching the dark colored wine swish around.

Out of all the laughing and the loud music, his laugh was the most prominent noise of the night, for you that is.

And he fucking had these skinny bitches tied at the hip to him, his buff arms wrapped around them like the past few months haven’t meant anything to him.

Not that they meant much to you. Pfft, what?

It was truly a mistake. He had asked you to come over, saying it was just one of those days for him. And being the lovesick person you were, you dropped everything you were doing to make your best friend feel better. (The best friend you were secretly in love with. Okay, not much of a secret ‘cause like, everyone knows but him.)

You had arrived with a box of pizza from his favorite pizza parlor, not thinking much of it. Just one friend caring for the other because it’s what you signed up for. Having a best friend who’s always in the public eye comes with the late night calls and tear stained shirts. But you wouldn’t change it for the world.

You had shut the door behind you, barely getting any words out before he leaped onto you, his soft, luscious (don’t judge), pink lips crashed onto yours.

What pizza?

His lips were everywhere, sucking and biting and kissing every inch of skin you were exposing as your shirt came off.

Then his shirt. (Other things too.)

And you weren’t going to complain.

This was something you wanted for so long, you tragically admitted to yourself as he picked you up with ease and laid you on his bed.

He had loved on you all night. Like, all night. He’s got some stamina. You swore it would just be that one time, and that you’d just forget about it. You both agreed to that. (You silently disagreed.)

That was five month ago.

In those five months, all the times you’d go over his house or he’d come to you, it ended with both of you panting, naked under the sheets. And again, you weren’t complaining.

It was the closest you got to be with Shawn in any other way. Friends who occasionally fucked, and sadly that’s all he saw it as. He was able to taste you whenever he wanted, no complaints from you.

But now here you were. All alone in the kitchen of his apartment at his party, watching from afar as he practically eye fucked the two girls by him. You slightly smirked at the fact that many people were sitting on the couch that you fucked Shawn on. (And oh, what a good fuck that was.)

You tried not to let it bother you, the Shawn thing not the couch thing. As you two messed around these past couple of months, your feelings for him only grew as he ate you out, thrusted in and out of you in a rapid pace, the cuddles and giggles you shared after consuming your everyday thought process.

You chugged down the bitter wine and reached over to refill your glass, filling it almost to the brim.

“Tryna get wasted are we?” A deep, sultry voice whispered behind you.

You put down the now empty bottle and turned around to be met with a nice looking guy. But not like, Shawn. No, nothing like the god like body of your best friend. God, now your comparing other guys to him.

And that made you really want to stop all of the fooling around. Because you knew you were heading deeper into heartbreak as Shawn went deeper into you. You would never be able to go on another date because all you ever think about is Shawn how no one could ever live up to how Shawn makes you feel. Down there and in your heart.

You sound so pathetic.

You blink and clear your throat, looking up at the guys hazel eyes. Shawn has hazel eyes too. “Uh, yeah. Got nothing to lose so,” you tipped your glass in the air, taking long big gulps at the liquid.

He chuckles and wait for you to place down your glass before reaching his hand out in between you. “I’m Gavin.”

Gavin? What kind of name is that? You look over his shoulder to see Shawn already peering at you, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. He moves his arms away from the girls, rubbing his hands together above his lap. It’s getting to him, good.

“Hi Gavin,” You take his hand, giving him a firm shake. “I’m (y/n).” You smile up at him.

•••

After a while, you and Gavin got to talking. Oh, how boring he was. He went on and on about his country life (shocker? Not really). You gave him occasional hums and nods, pretending to be listening, but all you really noticed was the tall curly haired guy, making sure he stayed in your line of vision.

Gavin was talking about why he dropped out of college when you see Shawn’s lanky figure walking towards you from the corner of your eye.

“Can I borrow (y/n) for a sec?” Shawn interrupted Gavin, standing above you.

Gavin gave him a look, but nodded you off anyway, going to other girls to bore them with his stories.

Shawn pulled you by your wrist, dragging you behind him as he shut the door of his bedroom.

“What the fuck was that?” He growled at you.

You yanked your wrist from his hold and crossed your arms over your chest, turning your back to him. “What was what?” You asked sarcastically.

“Don’t start with this bullshit (y/n). You know that we’re-”

You spin around, glaring at him. “That we’re what? Fucking! So does that mean I’m not allowed to talk to other guys? You have no right to be scaring them off. You don’t fucking own me.”

There’s a flash of guilt on his perfect face, and you almost want to apologize for yelling at him.

But you don’t. Instead, you walk out and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

Try to.

•••

Shawn was at the doorway, telling everyone his last goodbyes. You, still being the good friend you are (again, still in love with him), you were in the kitchen, throwing away paper plates and red solo cups into a large trash bag.

You hear the door click, and your heart starts to beat faster because you just know how this will end up. Either you in tears or you under him. Maybe both.

You go to reach for other plates, but the trash bag is yanked from your hand and you’re pushed into the counter, Shawn’s hungry eyes roaming your body.

“Shawn what are you-”

“That guy will never be able to fuck you like I do. Wanna know why?” He snarled, his hand moving under your dress.

All you can do is pant, your chest moving up and down as his fingers grazed your nub over your underwear.

“‘Cause I do fucking own this pussy,” his finger moves the underwear out of the way and curls up into you. You bite your lip and let out a moan. Shawn’s other hand grabs yours and places it right above his hard on over his jeans, your fingers immediately kneeding into it. “And you fucking own this cock.”

Was that his way of making it official?

But you barely have time to ask or to even think about it before he adds another finger, rutting them up into you in an unforgiving pace. Shawn swallowed your moans as his lips moved against yours, your hand lightly massaging him over the rough fabric of his pants.

He groans into your mouth when you pull down the zipper, digging into his Calvin Klein briefs, stroking his hard member.

You felt the familiar tug tightening in your lower stomach, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers moving in and out of you bringing you closer to the edge, his tounge fighting yours was enough to actually push you.

You detach you lips from his in a rigid breath, your other hand going up to place it on his neck. “Shawn, I’m-I’m cumming.” You gapsed into his mouth, lips grazing.

“Cum all over my fingers, princess.” He whispered before biting on your earlobe.

You braced your hands on his broad shoulders as you lost feeling in your legs, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you whispered out some profanities along with his name as he wiggles his fingers in you.

“You looks so pretty when you cum all over my fingers,” You whimper when he slowly pulls his digits out of you, his long fingers coved in your sheen clear liquid. You watch him intently as he sucks on his fingers, his eyes wandering your face as you lips slightly parted, watching him lick up your juices. “now I want you to come all over my cock. Can you do that for me, baby?” He huffs out, his fingers hooking at the bottom of your dress, pulling it over your head.

He sighs as the view of your naked torso comes into view, your nipples pearling from the cool atmosphere in the room. “No bra, honey?” He whispers before cupping your breasts in his big hands, his tongue sticking it out to lap at your right nipple. You throw you head back and sigh in pleasure, your fingers flying through his hair, scratching his scalp.

You feel Shawn thrusting against your thigh, you have completely forgotten how uncomfortable he must be with his throbbing cock stuck in the confinement of his underwear. You reach over and dig into his briefs again, spreading the leaking precum over his tip before gripping his shaft, moving your fingers up and down.

He sucks on your breast, lips grazing the nipple before he kisses and sucks and bites his way to the other one. But instead of going to your left breast like you thought, he kisses his way up the column of your throat, kissing your jaw before sliding his tongue into your mouth, both of you moaning out.

“Shawn I-”

“I’m sorry. For how I reacted I mean, with Gavin. I had no reason to act like that, I just,” Shawn trails off, his hands cupping your flushed face as he looked at you straight in the eyes, his mouth moving to say something but nothing comes out.

“You what?” You plant your hands on his forearms, ready for him to finally say that he feels the same way.

“I want you so bad.” He grunts before picking you up, your legs immediately going around his waist as he makes his way to his room, bumping into the wall a couple times, making you giggle into each others mouths.

He drop you on the bed, his hands massaging the skin if your torso, his thumb just under your breasts. “God, you're so fucking gorgeous.” He muttered, his eyes trailing over your panting body.

You smack his arm, regaining his attention. “Yeah, yeah you too. Just fuck me.” You said breathlessly. He chuckles into your skin, leaving a light kiss on your ribcage before moving off of you to take off his shirt.

Holy, fuck. You don't know if you're just high off the fact that you're about to fuck him again, or high off the fact that you're about to fuck him, the love of your life, and that he feels the same way but fuck, was his body ever perfect. “Oh, I want you too, by the way. More than a friend.”

He pulled down his pants, along with his boxers with a smile, his cock springing up, hitting against his toned abdomen. “I know.”

Your eyes widen, you prop yourself on your elbows. “What?”

He pulls open a drawer, taking a square packet from inside. “Yeah hun. Uh, you talk in your sleep.”

Okay, so it really wasn't a secret.

“It’s okay baby,” He rips the packet open and rolls the the rubber over his length, he leans over you, his tip grazing your inner thigh, and he pecks your lips, giving you his award winning smile. “Love you too.” He mumbled against you lips before giving you a hard kiss. “Now you're gonna obey me right?”

His tip grazed your soaked entrance, then you whimper and nod frantically before he pushes in you, not giving you time to adjust to his length (not that you needed to). He pants into your neck as he pounds into you, his fingers gripping your waist tightly and you’re sure you’ll have some bruises in the morning.

Then he just suddenly stops. Like, inside you.

“Why did you-”

“Don’t question anything baby.” He muttered before leaving a light kiss on your neck and slowly pulling out of you, both of you whimpering at the loss.

He leans over the bed and unloops his belt from his jeans on the floor. He gives you a look and you put your wrists out and you watch him diligently as he wraps the leather on your wrists, securing them tightly before he pushes your intertwined hands above your head. “You are going to keep your hands up here, got it baby?”

You moan when he fills you up again, curling your fingers above your head to resist moving your arms down and running your hands through his unruly hair.

Shawn bites his lip to keep his whimper in as he slowly rolls his hips into you, enjoying watching you squirm under him. “You like that honey? You like my big cock inside your tight pussy?” He asked as he kissed your chest, rolling his hips in a faster pace.

“Yes, yes, oh, god fuck j’like that.” You scream out, feeling completely euphoric as he brought you closer to the edge once again.

“That’s right baby, scream my name.” Shawn said huskily as his hand came in between you, rubbing your clit with his calloused thumb.

Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling around Shawn as you screamed his name, cumming once again.

He rolls into you as you come down your high, your hair sprawled around your head, hands in fists above your head, cheeks red and flushed and all Shawn can wonder how goddamn lucky is to have someone like you.

You hiss as he pulls out of you, and you watch him as he crawls up the bed, sitting against the headboard, legs spread out. He pats his thigh before running his fingers through his sweaty hair, a small smile on his face. “Come ride me baby.”

You crawl up the bed, licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock up in the air, ready for you.

Shawn grips your hips as you steady yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of him. You bring your hands down to align his member to your entrance, and you both sigh as you sink down on him.

You move your intertwined hands behind Shawn’s head, your fingers gripping his chocolate locks as you slowly move up and down on his shaft.

Taking the matter into his own hands, he wraps his arms around you to keep you in place and pounds up into you, the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans filling the room. “You like that honey?” He asked huskily as he watched your eyes roll back in pleasure, you breasts bouncing in his face. He catches a nipple into his mouth and sucks on it, biting the nub, your orgasm coming closer.

“Shawn..” You moaned out, the familiar feeling bubbling in your lower stomach stopping you from saying much more.

“Let go for me honey.” Shawn muttered.

“You too.” Your head falling back as the orgasm came closer.

“C’mon baby, cum for me.” One hand comes off your waist to go in between you, his thumb playing with your sensitive clit.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your legs tremble around him as you came once again.

Shawn lets out a moan as he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing himself closer to the edge.

You take Shawn’s face in your hands, rubbing his flushed cheek. “Cum for me honey.” Giving him a peck on the lips, your eyes locked with his as he kept going into you.

His movements falter and he whimpers as he came into the condom.

You are both panting, wrapped in each other when Shawn moves to unwrap your hands from the belt and looks you in the eyes as he kissed your hands, making his way up your arms to your lips.

“I love you.” You both whispered at the same time against the others lips. You giggle and lightly scratch his neck before you pull his lips closer again, kissing him with all the love you have.

Permanent Taglist:

@xitl4ly @summeronjt @shawnmendesisperfection @shawnssongs @shawn-youth @alles—oder-nichts @casualturtlelampoperator @princessjazz1223 @zabdisamor @iammechick @gred-and-forge-weaslley @iloveshawnieboi @turtoix @fluffsshawn @heyits-claire @mutuallynotmutual

(Let me know if you want to be added or taken off taglist. Crossed if it did not work.)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fanfiction #imagine shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #dom!shawn #my writing

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solllaris · 5 years

Text

rainy days: carlisle cullen

summary: rain is steadily falling outside whilst you and carlisle are in his office; he is working on hospital paperwork and you are reading a book, but both of you get distracted by one another.

warnings: sex innuendos, a little steaming of the windows if ya catch my drift ;) & fluff fluff fluff obvi

word count: 1,027 (super short im so sorry)

a/n: i swear i didn’t mean for this to get as steamy as it does but carlisle is a total daddy and i couldn’t help myself. btw the ending is a little iffy but i wasn’t really sure how to end it so oh well

masterlist // taglist

Carlisle’s office was your favorite place to reside. It was the only room in the home to have a window seat and it was the perfect, most serene spot to sit with a book in hand. Your fondness of the window seat heightened on days when it rained and you found yourself perched in your spot on one of those many days in Forks, Washington.

A steady rain fell at just the right intensity, creating a soothing sound as it collided with the glass; it was tempting to let the melody lull you to a dreamless sleep, but you were too determined to finish the book in your lap. You leaned your head against the cold glass window, the cool temperature bringing with it a sense of pleasure and bid adieu to the fatigue. Your fingers fiddled with the pages and corners of the novel, a habit you had always found yourself doing whilst you read. Just as your eyes skimmed the last few words inked into the yellowing page, you grew distracted by something - or someone - in your peripheral vision.

Lifting your head a bit from the chilled glass, you glanced over to find a pair of ocher-colored eyes already settled on you. A pleasurable shiver went down your spine and red painted your cheeks, much to Carlisle’s delight. At the sight of his adoring smile, one of your own lifted the corners of your mouth a tiny bit - one of the shy grins that Carlisle found endearing.

“What?” You inquired lightly, a small and shy smile worn on your lips.

“I’m admiring the beautiful view.” His gaze remained steady on your flushed face; he couldn’t look away from you if he tried.

Sucking in your cheeks to hold a smile back, you shifted closer to the window and pressed the blazing skin of your forehead against the cold glass once more. Carlisle’s figure fell into your peripherals and your gaze shifted back to the open book that rested on your thighs; you tried with all of your strength to ignore the musical laughter emitting from your left and focus on the story in front of you. The words inked onto the pages flew over your head when you attempted to read them and as you squirmed under Carlisle’s scorching gaze, he sat behind his desk with his hands clasped over his large grin in delight at his effect on you.

Self-control had always been the one thing that Carlisle prided himself on; however, restraining his desires when it came down to you were much, much more strenuous. Not only did the blood that reddened your cheeks smell delectable, but your subtle fragrance of a warm vanilla drove the urge even deeper. His body felt as if it were pulled to yours, tethered together by an invisible string, so with impeccable grace and the agility of a cat he was up and on his feet and across the room within the blink of an eye.

Hooking a finger onto the spine of the book crammed in your face, Carlisle gently tugged it from your grasp and dog-eared your page. Your little whine in protest as he tossed the book aside brought a smile to his face, but when his attention finally settled on you curled against the window it became a full-fledged grin. Your head was tipped all the way up to catch his eye and his hands instinctively came to rest just below your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your neck and into your hair; you found yourself holding your breath as he lowered his lips to yours, your top lip slotting perfectly between the two of his — like two puzzle pieces coming together to complete a beautiful picture.

In one fluid motion, Carlisle picked you up from where you sat on the window seat and your legs encircled his slender body whilst he continued to kiss you. Your fingers slid around his neck and buried themselves into his neat hair, tugging lightly to elicit a deep, husky groan into your mouth — just like you wanted. The cheek-splitting grin that slowly stretched across your face, pleased at your blatant effect on the man you were wrapped around, caused the kiss to break with a quiet little ‘pop’.

Carlisle’s head was tilted back just slightly as you were a bit higher up than him as he held you and the look of utter adoration he was sending you was very clear. Your feet finally hit the cold hardwood floor and he promptly pulled you flush to him by your waist, that soft smile reserved just for you worn proudly on his pink lips. “Little minx,” He muttered, the timbre of his voice rough and raspy.

You decided to be a bit mischievous and tug his blonde locks again; a low growl vibrated Carlisle’s chest against yours and when he dipped lower to brush his lips against the shell of your ear and said, “Careful, little one,” you felt a shiver ripple down your spine.

Biting back a smile, you innocently pecked his lips once and pulled back enough to breathe normally. The entire exchange had ignited a heat inside you and even though you were only dressed in a little sundress you were still really, really hot.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” You inquired innocently and fiddled with the buttons on his nice dress shirt.

A euphonic chuckle rumbled through him and he tightened his arms around your frame, arching your back until he nearly held you up all on his own. With his nose brushing yours and a tender grin, he hummed, “I needed some of my angel’s kisses to keep me going first.”

“You’re literally a vampire, sweet,” You jokingly remind him with a laugh, though inside your tummy was completely rampant with butterflies.

“I’ll always need your kisses — no matter what, angel.”

“Well I’m really, really glad,” You whispered against his mouth.

And Carlisle wasted no time in descending his lips onto yours again.

He had done many, many things over his thousands of years but the one thing he had done absolutely right was you.

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drunklander · 7 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 313

Ermagherd guys, Droughtlander. It’s here. But it’s here with Hamilton stuck in our heads, cheesetastic secksi times and the knowledge that the beginning of next season is probs the most like the oh-so-high-up-on-that-pedestal-S1A than anything else in the series. (In a strange new place! Trying to build a home! Except this time they’re doing it together! With the kiddos! Plus a doggo! *grabby hands*)

I know I’ve been on the *cough* less than positive *cough* side of things a lot this season. And last season, if we’re being honest. And I was going to apologize for that, but honestly, I’m not sorry. That’s just how I fan. I flail about what I love, I rant about what I don’t. I’m *very* aware that’s not everyone’s cup of tea and that I’m the sort of fan the cast and crew shit on in interviews and on twitter. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But I enjoyed the finale for what it was. I squee’ed! I yelled things at the teevee! I side-eyed like whoa! So basically the same-ish reaction I’ve had to most of the episodes.

(I never bothered doing a full S2 rewatch, but I might do one for S3 just to see if it flows any better when watched all in one go, but I have a feeling it’ll still feel more like individual units than a cohesive whole.)

Anywho, beer-fueled nonsense that offers nothing of substance under the cut.

Finding more and more that I miss the old-style title cards.

Hard pass on doing this VO twice, tbh. Like we know obvi she’s not going to die. Just have it be where it plays out in the story.

Ok but all I can think about when the carriage stops and the crowd of people walk by is the part in The Mummy when they’re all like zombified and chanting Im-Ho-Tep.

I was just about to snark on Claire apparently having a change of clothes in the damn carriage but alas, we didn’t have to headcanon that she went and changed somewhere. No snarking for me.

Although for fucking serious? She changed back into the same damn outfit?! Ffs. Let the damn woman wear a different dress.

Aw, Fergus lets his wife come with him and doesn’t leave her behind in the woods with Willie. (I heart Marsali.)

“I’ll gut you” is apparently Young Ian’s go-to threat. It’s cute he already has a signature murder-style. Now you just need a rad serial killer name, dude. Take the hiatus to think about it.

This whole thing with Claire and Geillis is like ♬ I know, you know that I’m not telling the truth. ♬

I love that the Army/Navy rivalry spans both time and country.

But for real. Lord John in this scene is my goddamn everything. Sorry, Captain Babyface. I like you, but I need my dude out of those handcuffs and LJG is fucking *bringing it* right now. Can Jamie keep the handcuffs though? They might come in handy once he’s back on the Artemis... ;)

Ok but the final lingering shot of the pining face. Why. It was such a great scene. Lord John helping his buddy. Jamie being like yep, I still get in trouble, thanks for the assist. A nice goodbye. And it could have just ended there and been perfect, but nah, gotta smack everyone over the head with 1000% commitment to my least favorite trope.

#GetJohnABoyfriend2k18

Ah a “why are you here” callback to ep. 111.

For real though, Geillis is fucking nuts. Claire knows Geillis is fucking nuts. Claire knows Geillis has Young Ian. WHY ARE YOU LIKE HAVING CASUAL STORY TIME WITH HER, CLAIRE! DON’T TELL HER THINGS!

CLAIRE WHY ARE YOU TELLING GEILLIS ABOUT GOING BACK TO THE FUTURE! WHY ARE YOU TELLING HER ABOUT BREE! THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA! STOP SHARING THINGS WITH PSYCHOPATHS!

Also, we’re just casually talking about time travel in front of Hercules? I mean, I guess since he’s enslaved, no one gives a shit what he hears because it’s not like he can do anything?

“He was one of my favorites.” She’s fucking nuts but I still do love Geillis.

*zones out through discussions about the mechanics of time travel*

Did you really think you *weren’t* going to get locked in, Claire? YOU KNOW WHAT GEILLIS HAS DONE, YOU WERE CLEARLY GOING TO BE LOCKED IN. BREAK THE FUCKING WINDOW OR SOMETHING IF YOU WANT TO GET OUT.

I get that this is a parallel to the pilot when Claire’s watching the dancers at Craigh na Dun with Frank from the grass, but part of me is still wicked uncomfortable that they’re again using Black people as basically set dressing. I know it’s in the book, I wasn’t a fan of it there either.

How I think of Margaret during her Visions R Us office hours, basically.

Man, they really committed to this damn rabbit and bird thing. Maybe it’s some folks’ jam, but it never really struck a chord for me and the more they kept bringing it up, the more it makes me roll my eyes. Maybe because birds and rabbits were never a thing with Jamie and Claire? So it just seemed wicked random and kind of forced? Whatevs.

Hated Margaret channeling Bree in the book, hate it here.

This whole thing is so much weirder in the book, but just because they made it less weird for the show doesn’t make it good.

Like if we’re getting an exposition dump from Archibald about the prophecy, we really don’t need the weird Bree thing about someone coming to get her.

Yi Tien Cho channeling Inigo Montoya is kind of my everything. “I’m Yi Tien Cho. You are not worthy of this woman. Prepare to die.”

Petition for Rihanna’s “We Found Love” to be Yi Tien Cho and Margaret’s wedding song.

Omg so much explaining what we’ve already all figured out. We need to headcanon like 75% of Jamie and Claire’s reconciliation, but let’s spell out 2378235 different ways what Geillis’ plan is. (Maybe it wasn’t that many ways. But we’re doing a fuckton of exposition dumping in this episode.)

Ok seriously. The guy with the alligator head drinking chicken blood. Ugh. We got white savior stuff last week, but at least Temeraire had a part in the plot and got some agency at the end? Still problematic, but (maybe?) as minimally problematic as it could be if it was going to be included? This is literally just a backdrop for a conversation with Margaret. Blergh...

And then they have them carry off Archibald Campbell as Yi Tien Cho and Margaret look on in horror and omfg this is not good.

(ETA -- In which Roxane Gay says it better than I could: “It’s all very colonial fever dream, not so vaguely racist, and I honestly forced myself to let it go so I could continue with the episode.”)

“We lost Faith. We will not lose Brianna.” This line sure would have hit home a little harder had we actually seen Jamie give a crap about Bree at any point during the season. In the moment it works, but looking over the whole season *weakly gestures, tired of wishing things had been done differently*.

The goodbye kiss just in case though hits me in the feels.

Well isn’t Geillis telling Claire “a life for a life” a nice perversion of Claire telling Jamie that he owed her a life in season two.

And then Jamie grabs her hand all gently and I have feelings about the two of them at the stones/pool, guys.

Why does dead!Geillis look super fake? I have questions.

Slash Young Ian is gathering up jewels or something, right? Before he runs out of the cave? He’s like picking shit up off the ground...

Still could have done without the bones in Joe’s office bit, tbh. But whatever.

I know she’s like a bit traumatized, but Claire holding a bloody machete is my aesthetic.

Awwww, lookit that lil family. *heart eyes*

Omg but the stuff on the ship is the eye of the storm. Like the episode is the storm. And the sex is the eye. Because in the eye of the hurricane, there is quiet. For just a moment. GET IT?! GET IT GUYS?! OK FINE I’LL JUST KEEP SINGING HAMILTON OVER HERE BY MYSELF.

I’m way too proud of myself for this tweet though:

“Surprised I dinna have a full head of white hair, after all I’ve suffered these past few months.” ONE LAST WTF, JAMIE *SIDE-EYE* FOR THE ROAD! (I know Jamie has been through some shit. But literally ever since Claire showed back up, he’s managed to make almost everything about him so even though it’s a little joke, this line is just icing on the omfg, you’re killing me Smalls cake.)

#TeamClairesVeryFineSkin

I for real thought this wasn’t going to make it into the show. I didn’t think the quickie in ep. 309 was going to make it either. Glad they both did.

Claire being like yep, I can remedy the I’m still wearing clothes situation, stat, is my everything.

It’s so cheesy, guys. I love cheese.

Jamie’s bangs though, guys. Can we get the man a new wig haircut before next season?

Omg, that ass grab. That ass grab is my everything. Idk why. But omg. RIP me.

They def have made the sex a little less explicit this year. Except for the rape that they decided to shoot like a softcore porn, wtaf. But like, that doesn’t matter? It’s never been about the amount of skin showing? It’s about showing the two characters being wicked into each other, because if they weren’t then going through all the shit they go through wouldn’t be worth it? I’m *rull* glad that the show has finally realized that that’s an important thing to actually have on screen instead of condescendingly telling us that it doesn’t matter or we should headcanon it like they did all last year.

Ok, here for Claire going full mama bear at Young Ian, but girl. How much doctoring do you really thing you’re going to be able to do in this exact moment if you go up on deck.

Slash, what was she waiting for the whole time everyone else, including the two people she was with, was clearing the deck? I know, I need to just go with it, but this is silly.

Ok this is the only time we needed to see this/hear this VO. Beautifully shot. The Faith music is gorgeous, but like I’m not reading anything into it like she’s watching over them or anything. More just like Claire’s in a liminal state between alive and dead like she was when Faith died.

Dude, kiss your wife when you’re both on the surface and it’s been established she’s alive. (I mean, it’s super sweet, but SWIM, JAMMF, SWIM!)

All snark aside, there’s something a little beautiful about Claire spending half the season basically drowning, unable to really save herself and no one else around who cares enough to save her. And now here she is again, literally drowning and unable to save herself, but this time there’s a handy ginger around to lend a hand. Because she’s not alone anymore. And I have feelings. So many feelings. All the feelings. Feelings.

As they’re floating on their scrap of wood, let me take the obligatory detour into the 20 year old grumble that there was definitely enough room on the door for Jack too. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, ROSE.

The thought of crawling around in the sand in wet clothes gives me hives.

“I told you I’d never leave you again.” ilu, claire bear.

Ok but they’re both so sad that the ship went down and everyone’s dead and stuff and it’s moving and yay for hugs, but like. You know nothing about where you are? Why jump to the worst case scenario? The beach is literally littered with stuff from the ship? You made it so other people might have too? Also, clearly all of the important people lived because otherwise this whole half of the season was pointless?

That being said, these two are really good at making their faces show feelings.

It’s really not a strange question to ask where you are, Jamie. You were in a shipwreck. GPS isn’t a thing. I’d say it’s a pretty normal question to have, bro.

OK BUT LOOK AT CLAIRE’S FACE WHEN SHE SAYS AMERICA HERE COMPARED TO HOW SHE WAS FEELING THE LAST TIME SHE ARRIVED THERE. EVERYTHING IS OK NOW, CLAIRE! I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THE FRASERS GETTING TO FINALLY START A LIFE TOGETHER, GUYS.

Literaloling over the rando family just walking away like yeah, uh, you guys do you.

fin.

#*#drunj!der yells about outlander #outlander starz #outlander 3x13

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walkinsauce · 7 years

Text

Becoming Poly- Chapter 14: My Turn

Sorry I didn’t blog last week. Do you know how hard it is to write about polyamory under the same roof as your parents? I was scared one of them was going to pop in and ask,

“Christina, why do you need that bottle of wine in your room?”

“Paper weight.”

So, ya, I’m sure hundreds of self help books would call that an “excuse” for not writing, but trust me: it felt TOO CREEPY. You try to write about sex while your parents are in the next room watching My Three Sons. See how you feel. I would, however, like to thank all my Tumblr readers for hitting the heart button on all my blogs. Quick shout outs to:

ilove-seductive-mature attractive-milf-girls hot-elder-chamber fat-milf-foxy-imgs bimbo-slutty-girlz fuck-sexy-fat-pussies fucking-amazing-fat-cunts jugs-nice-pictures

It’s good to know I’ve found my audience. Though I do wish you guys would put some capital letters in your names. You’re better than that.

I’ve calmed down from my boyfriend’s first “other sex” in our relationship. I’m pretty lucky that I have so many people reaching out to me, who are better versed in open relationships than I am. A particular comic friend in Florida always sums it up so well:

“Your primary is your home. These other people are the Disneylands and carnivals of the world. Fun day excursions, but you don’t want it every day.”

I think that’s my problem: Part of me would prefer to be the Disneyland. And good news for you, I’m way cheaper.

I still have a crush on the one guy I texted at O’Brien’s the day of my breakdown. I know he’s wary of the poly thing, and knowing my boyfriend, but I can’t help it. I’ve known him for years. I’ve had a crush on him for a year. I can’t help it if I’m a coward, and don’t know how to approach him. (Especially considering the circumstances.) Me sending him Snapchats that he’ll never open is enough of a rush for me.

It’s Friday night. I’m sitting at Ollo, as I often do during happy hour, wondering what I’m going to do when all the regulars go home at 8pm. It’s not a party city. We could use a Malibu’s Most Wanted reboot out here. But with the tiny bit of confidence I get from deep fried zucchini sticks and house wine, I decide to text my crush:

“Do you ever open Snapchat anymore, or am I sending things to an archive…?”

(With a smirky face emoji, obvi.)

He writes back minutes later.

“Hahahaha! I just watched the snaps! They made me laugh!”

It was at least a month’s worth of events, even capturing his own roommates. It must have been quite the montage.

“Thanks for sending them! I’m sorry I’m the worst. They were really funny. How long have you been sending them?”

Oh months. They’re my favorite seed I’ve ever planted.

“You might have just gotten something from me.”

I open Snapchat and see his name light up in full arrowed purple. I’m ridiculously excited for a girl my age. I’m starting to tune out the old man beside me bragging about how he gave Rosie O’Donnell her big break. That’s how you can tell I keep it real in this town- I’d much rather chase romance than my own career. (GOOD MOVE, EH?)

He writes again:

“I just finished a show in Hermosa Beach and I got to watch a lady heckle another comedian by saying, “we’re never going to be friends.”

Wow. The edginess of Hermosa Beach hecklers. What’s next? No tip? Shocking. I’m walking home, past people sleeping in their cars. At least my career is going better than theirs. But it’s a good reminder there’s no parking restrictions on PCH. Man, if any road needs some street cleaning…

It takes us another 18 texts to finally figure out we should meet up, but when he writes,

“I’d be down to meet up somewhere!”

I’m immediately wet. (It happens fast at my age.) He suggests the exact two bars in Santa Monica I was going to suggest. Power of the Leo and Sagittarius. (I probs just lost nine readers by referencing astrology.)

I get to Rick’s on Main Street slightly before him. I don’t have my real glasses on me, cuz I’ve been wearing my prescription sunglasses all day. Didn’t expect to be out past sunset, cuz that’s Malibu “night life.” So I’m going to be mildly blind all night. People always tell me,

“You should get laser eye surgery.”

Why the fuck would I do that? My glasses cover at least a dozen lines on my face. I’m thinking about getting a new pair, with thicker rims. I’m growing out bangs next. The date will be fine as long as I don’t send him into the kitchen when he asks where the bathroom is.

Now here’s the grey area…

Do I tell my bf right now that I’m going to meet this crush? I don’t know anything is going to happen. There’s a good chance we will just be two (ASTROLOGICAL PERFECT MATCHES) drinking buddies in a bar. Two comics, talking shop. Do we really need to set off the alarm before there’s a fire? As per my communication skills, I think def not. Like this blog, I will leave it till the last minute. (Typed at 3:13am, 4:45am after proofreading.)

I’m pretty sure I look like shit, but the good thing about somebody knowing me through comedy, is they always see me looking like shit. I’ve never been super comfortable looking “good” on stage. Maybe this comes from starting stand up 19 years ago, and always fearing women wouldn’t like me if I looked pretty. Most of the women in a comedy club are on dates, and I would literally get glares as they gripped their men. So early in my career, I started to wear hoodies on stage, and cover as much skin as possible. It was my passive aggressive way of saying,

“Don’t look at me. Listen to me.”

(Also, “I’m not here to steal your boyfriend. I’m here to make forty bucks.”)

This is another reason I love the rise of feminism: I pray it means the death of catty-ism. (An energy I sadly grew up with.)

So ya, back to the poly stuff: I’m on an impromptu date with my crush, my bf doesn’t really know, I look like shit, but can’t see that cuz I left my glasses at home. He walks in the bar and I’m almost in shock that we’re together. I think it’s been months since we’ve been in the same room together. And since when did I start going after things I want…?

I’m shockingly comfortable around him. That’s a plus about bonding with someone while you’re in a relationship. You don’t try as hard to sell yourself as when you’re single. You’re just you, and if they don’t like it, who cares? (I admire people who are like this all the time.)

He suggests we go to Chez Jay next. Ooooooooh, I love a new bar. Never been. So excited. Even more excited that he’s ditched his car, and will get it in the morning. I love a man who drinks responsibly. (Is this how I book a MADD commercial, or do I still need to have babies?)

Chez Jay is great. I like having bars like this on my radar. The conversation is going steady, tho I’m praying my primary and polyamory doesn’t come up. I just want to enjoy this night, as it is. The same way I did as a single person. I really don’t want to dive into the politics of it all. I think I’m more terrified that talking about it will scare him away…

When Chez Jay closes, he asks me if I wanna come over for some porch beers.

Yup. You know I do.

Again… is this the moment I text my bf and let him know I’m going over to a guy’s house? I mean technically, there’s a good chance nothing will happen. Seems too soon to ring the alarm. And if there’s one expression comedians know, it’s “too soon.”

He gets us an Uber/Lyft, whichever- most cars in town have both stickers. When we get to his house, I hit the bathroom. Every girl’s most investigative move in a dude’s house. Is his hand towel also his bath towel? Is this a one towel wonder situation? Does he own toilet paper? I don’t make it that far, because I’ve sprayed surprise period all over my undies. (If those Tumblr names didn’t scare you away, this surely will, eh?)

I search the cupboards for anything remotely handy in this moment. There’s nothing. Maybe I should hit the kitchen, and look for coffee filters. Those should work, right?

Nah, I’ll just do the ol’ “tie toilet paper around my underwear” move. It’s the move you do when you first get your period, in case you don’t know. (I FEEL SO YOUNG AGAIN! MAYBE I DON’T NEED BANGS!)

Porch beers are the best. I’m a fan of his roommates. We’re all having a great time, but then…

Something more unexpected than my bloody kitty happens. This beautiful, young blonde chick walks up to the porch.

“Hey, I live across the street. All my friends went to sleep, so I thought I’d come introduce myself.”

Holy. Mother. Trucker. It’s 3:00am. This isn’t the moment I was expecting competition…

But here we are.

The guys grab her a beer. Now again, I am not into “catty-ism.” BUT- I am a share holder of “insecurity-ism.” And if I were any one of these guys on this porch, I would def hit on this chick instead of me. She’s legit extremely cool. There’s a part of me that wonders if this is fate’s little way of saying,

You’re not ready to pop your poly cherry yet.

I never rang the alarm. I can still get out of this… innocently?

Either way, I think she might be might be my personal savior (another word I spell wrong cuz I’m Canadian and think there’s a “u” in it.)

“Do you have a tampon?”

“Of course! Come on over!”

She takes me over to her apartment, and literally gives me all her pads cuz she doesn’t use them. Bonus. My favourite sleep aid. I fucking love this girl.

We head back over to the boys, and I know I’m drunk, bleeding and tired. I ask my crush if there’s a place I can crash. He escorts me to his roommate’s room, and tucks me in. (Don’t worry- the roommate wasn’t there. That would have been the real poly, eh?)

As I fall asleep, like a loser at a slumber party who goes to bed first, I can’t help but think,

“He’s a great guy. She’s a great girl. If they hook up, I’m fine with it.”

PRACTICE COMPERSION! Why is compersion so much easier when you’re not dating someone? I fall asleep/pass out- which ever you like to believe at this hour. In the morning, I wake up in a super funny comedian’s bed. Alone. I make the bed, as a sure fire way to say “a chick was here” and text my crush.

“Oh I wanna say bye, but I don’t know what room is yours.”

I can’t just knock on random doors… Plus he might not be alone. I def don’t want to interrupt kinky times with the pad donor. All of a sudden, one of the roommates pops out of his room. I ask him which room is _______’s and he shows me. In this moment, I know I’m risking becoming a piece of gossip my boyfriend might hear…

And not through me…

I lightly knock on the door. When I hear a groggy “come in” I open the door.

There’s NO hot, cool, tampon savior chick in his bed. He’s just sleeping, post drinking style, alone.

“Oh, I just wanted to say goodbye…”

And then, without saying another word, I crawl into bed with him.

#polyamory #poly #relationships #ollo #malibu #snapchat #comedians #comedians who date #Chez Jay #Santa Monica #Too Soon #MADD #polyam positivity #polyamourous #polyamorous #christina Walkinshaw #walkinsauce

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pen-masta · 7 years

Text

Swinging in the Rain

Just some cute fluff. Feeling the stresses of college so I wrote out my emotions in this little fic.

She sighs as she sits on the creaky swing, sniffling as residual tears roll down her cheeks. She doesn’t really know when it all started building up. Maybe it was when her teacher gave her a D on her art project that took her three weeks to create. Maybe it was when her parents started comparing her to her sisters. Maybe it was when her GPA dropped two letter grades. Maybe it was when her parents started having more arguments with her—with nothing seeming to be good enough anymore. Maybe it was when everything she did she was doing wrong, apparently in the eyes of all her teachers. Maybe it was when she couldn’t hold down a single part-time job. She couldn’t tell when it started building, but it all exploded today when she received a letter of rejection from her safety college. This was her third choice!

Her eyes still burned from the salty liquid that had been pouring from them for the past…who knows how long. She had her breaking point and had burst from the house, sprinting down the dampened sidewalk until she reached the old little town park. She had sat on the swing sobbing her eyes out feeling so lost, alone, useless, and overall an utter failure. The light drizzle that has been on and off has now dampened her hair to where it sticks to her cheeks and forehead.

She sniffles still feeling the heavy emotions thick in her chest. Her clothes cling to her body as her eyes drift around the empty playground. She and Castel used to play here all the time when they were little, it was close enough to walk to but far enough away to be a safe-haven when they needed to escape their reality. The trusty park is still holding it’s purpose even now. She breathes out a heavy sigh as she slides her hands up the cold chains.

She needs to get her life together. Her sisters had their lives together, being the youngest of four meant her parents had some preset cemented expectations for her. Tina was a college professor teaching Chemistry, Taylor was a pediatrician, and Haley was a veterinarian. The bar she had to reach had been raised so high above her head, a flexible pole and a running start wouldn’t even get her half way up the length. Her folks even compared her to Castel sometimes...

Having to try and fit into the cookie cutter designs of her sisters was one thing, but being compared to her best friend? That’s what pushed her over the edge. Castel had his life all in order, from the time he picked up a fourth grade level book and was able to read and understanding it at the age of six his life had been paved out for him. He’s got a full ride to the top university in the country, his SAT score was nearly perfect and he’s graduating valedictorian of their class. Programs were fighting for him to be in their college of studies, she’s never had his academic skills...

She scrunches her face again and kicks at the dirt by her feet causing her body to set the swing in motion slightly. She yips a little at the sudden swaying, but remains on the swing.

“Need a push?” A voice asks from behind her before two hands cover hers on the chains.

She blinks and tilts her head back and sighs in relief at the face she sees. Of course he’s here, he probably saw her run down the sidewalk in a blur of emotions and decided to follow her. But he didn’t come after her straight away, he gave her the space she needed and now he’s come to piece her back together.

She smiles up at him, “A push would be nice.”

He grins and disappears from her field of vision.

“Want an underdog?” He asks as he pulls her swing back

She giggles lightly, “Sure why not.”

He grins as he rears back lifting her as high as he can before charging forward, pushing her high enough from him to run under her. Despite the gloom and doom cloud that has filled her before, a smile breaks onto her face and her joyous laughter rings out as she flies high into the air. Little rain droplets pepper her skin and the old swing set creaks and screams out as she soars up nearly over the bar. Right now swinging back and forth she feels like she really could fly, fly high into the sky away from all the trouble, the problems, all people she’s disappointed.

As she glides backwards she opens her eyes to see him out in front of her. Smiling as wide as she is as he watches her having fun. His eyes sparkle and shine, shimmering with genuine happiness...maybe she hasn’t disappointed everyone.

“Now that’s what I call an underdog!” She howls out and he laughs.

“It was a good one, huh?”

“The best Cassie,” she giggles as she can feel her swing slowly losing it’s speed.

He grins and watches as she gradually decreases in velocity. Propping his umbrella up next to the swing set and taking the swing next to hers, he listens to her child-like giggles. He’s happy to see her smile.

“Betcha can’t go as high as me,” she challenges and beings to pump her legs.

He grins, “No fair you’re already moving because of my push.��

“Boo hoo big baby,” she taunts.

He chuckles and pushes off the ground accepting her challenge. She snorts at how he fumbles at first with his feet and the ground.

“Good grief C-bear can’t remember how to swing?” She teases

He sticks his tongue out at her, “I’m a lot taller than I was a few years ago, I need to find a good position.”

“Excuses, excuses,” she smirks sarcastically.

Soon they are both flying high above the ground almost in sync, but she’s still just a second or two faster than he is. They are both giggling and teasing each other, with taunting words being tossed into the air and raspberry retaliations being used when solid comebacks are out of reach.

“I’m still higher than you,” she cheers, “I win!”

“By whose standards?” He chuckles, “From where I’m sitting my legs are going much higher than yours.”

“The judges have made their decision already,” she shakes her head. “I am the winner you are the loser.”

“And who exactly are these judges?” He smirks

“The people judging our competition obvi,” she rolls her eyes lightheartedly.

“I want a recount!” He demands

“Don’t be a sore loser!” She chides

He laughs, “How about another competition as a tie breaker.”

“I’m listening,” she grins.

They haven’t played like this in a while, between the stresses of finals, clubs, jobs, and of course preparing for college there hasn’t been much time to goof off like children. She’s really enjoying this little bit of banter and she’s going to soak it in for all it’s worth.

“Let’s see who can jump the farthest,” he offers.

She gives a mock gasp, “Have my ears deceived me or is Castel Cubs Mr. Cautious Paranoid Goody-Two-Shoes, suggesting to jump off of a swing?”

He barks out a laugh, “I recent that name and yes I am.”

“What does the winner of our tie breaker get?” She inquires

He hums as he thinks, “How about loser buys the winner ice cream at the Dairy Mart.”

“You’re on Cubs!” She laughs and pumps her legs harder.

He smiles as they go higher, “Alright you first.”

“Scoping out the competition are ya?” She smirks

“You know it,” he grins.

She giggles and nods, “Alrighty watch and learn dork!”

At the right moment Joy launches herself off the swing and into the air. He watches and for a moment he’s terrified she’s going to get hurt, but Joy has the talent of falling with style. Her feet land on the ground for a split second before she falls into a somersault and pops back into the air like a spring. She throws her fists up in victory and turns beaming at him.

“Beat that nerd!”

He grins, “Watch this goof!”

He hurls himself into the air as well and does his best to copy her, but he does not have the same talents as Joy. Instead of falling with style he...just falls. He lands on his feet and tries to go into the somersault but he stumbles and ends up falling onto his side and rolls. He lands on his back and lays there for a moment as the world around his spins. Joy comes into his line of vision and he gives a goofy grin before throwing his fists into the air.

“How’d I do?” He asks through a laugh

She giggles, “You got some distance that’s for sure, buuuuuuut the judges are going to have to deduct some points for that landing.”

“Bummer,” he chuckles and she takes one of his hands.

“Come on second place,” she smiles as she helps him up.

He groans as he stands up and cracks his back, “Wow I am just too old for this.”

“You’re nineteen Cassierole,” she snickers and slaps his fallen cap back onto his head.

He smiles and flicks the brim of his cap up out of his eyes.

“And my time has coooome!” He says dramatically and leans into her becoming dead weight.

She yelps and giggles pushing back against him, “Get off you dork!”

They both laugh before making their way back to the swings. They sit again in comfortable silence lightly swinging. Joy’s smile slowly fades as the crippling emotions begin to flood her chest again.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks without looking at her.

He can feel the sudden tension her body gives off before she shakes her head.

“It’s nothing,” she says.

He pauses before looking at her, “You don’t need to lie to me Jo-jo.”

She won’t look at him. She won’t. She knows if she does she’ll break.

“It’s nothing really,” she says trying her hardest to sound fine but the tremble in her voice gives away her ruse.

“Joy,” he says gently and puts his hand on hers.

That’s all it takes. New tears spring to her eyes and she dares to look at him. His curls poke out from under his red cap, his eyes are full of concern and she can make out every stroke of worry in his face, his eyes pleading for her to open up.

She sniffles as she forces the tears to stay in her eyes, “I’m just...I’m not good enough.”

He blinks, “What?”

Her voice quivers, “I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough for my parents, for my teachers, for any of these colleges, for this existence.” She sniffles and wipes her nose on her sleeve, “Or for you.”

The dame breaks and tears spill down her cheeks. The overwhelming feeling of unacceptable mediocrity engulfs her in one wave, she begins to breathe heavily as more tears trail down her pink cheeks.

His eyebrows pop up and his eyes widen, “What? Joy, who says you’re not good enough?”

She sniffles loudly before hiccuping, “No one has to say it out right they say it in how they treat me and react to me.” She closes her eyes, “I’m not as great as my sisters I can’t reach my parents’ expectations. My teachers are all upset with me and my grades, no matter how hard I try my work is never good enough.” She whimpers, “Three school! Three schools Cassie! I’m not good enough to get into any of them!” She drops her head into her hands.

He frowns deeply at how inadequate she’s been feeling, why hadn’t she talked to him? Why did she try to do this on her own?

“I can’t keep a job, I’ve let down everyone,” she sniffles and rubs her eyes. “I’m an all around disappointment.”

“You haven’t let everyone down Joy,” he says and puts his hand on her shoulder.

“I’m not good enough, I’m a screw up.” She cries and hiccups.

His eyebrows knit together, “You are not a screw up Jo-jo now look at me.” He demands.

She hesitates a moment before turning to look at him. His heart shatters at how completely broken she is, the defeated look in her eyes, the indescribable chagrin...it makes him angry. Joy was the strongest person he knew, she was incredible and amazing, and smart and beautiful and more than good enough for anything!

“You are not unworthy Joy, you’re not a screw up, you’re not a disappointment.” He says gently, “People make mistakes...you don’t need to be perfect.”

“I’m not just making mistakes Cassie I am the mistake,” she sniffles and rubs her eyes.

“No you’re not!” He snaps his anger taking over. “Joy you are anything but a mistake. So what about thse jobs! Who cares? You won’t be doing meaningless task-fillers all your life anyway, you’re gonna go to college and get a degree and sell your art and be famous.” He smiles calming down a little, “Those schools were too stuffy for you, the right school you need to be at will come along soon don’t worry. And as for your parents and teachers,” he shrugs. “They’re just trying to push you to be your absolute best.”

“My absolute best isn’t good enough,” she sighs and stares down at the ground. “I’m not my sisters...or you.”

“Exactly,” he grins and cups her cheek turning her to look at him. “You’re not. You’re not Tina, you’re not Taylor, you’re not Haley. You’re Joy Fiona Curtis.” He smiles lovingly, “You’re never going to be your sisters. And that’s the most amazing thing about you!”

She hiccups and although she smiles a little bit he can see there’s still a hint of doubt in her eyes.

He smiles, “Come here.”

She sniffles and nods before standing up and walking over to him. It takes a moment of adjustment and wiggling in the swing, but soon she’s in his lap facing him. Her legs drape his hips and her arms wrap around his neck.

He wraps his arms around her holding her close in his grip.

“You are not a disappointment, not to your parents, your teachers, your sisters.” He tightens his hold on her, “And especially not to me.”

She sniffles and smiles a small grin as he continues, “And what’s this about you not being me? Thank God you’re not me Jo-jo!” He laughs and puts his forehead against hers causing the brim of his hat to pop up allowing his dry curls to mesh with her wet ones.

“I’m not smart like you though,” she says weakly.

“I’m just book smart Joy,” he shrugs, “that means nothing. You’re not only book smart you’re street smart,” he smiles. “Without you I wouldn’t last a single moment out in the world on my own.” He gently pushes a loose curl behind her ear.

She giggles cutely as his words of comfort begin to take their affect.

“That is very true,” she teases.

He smiles, “You are wonderful, intelligent, amazing, and indescribably incredible Jo-jo. And I thank God every day you’re in my life.” He says and pecks her nose earning him an adorable giggle from her. He smiles brightly, “Please don’t ever say you’re not good enough ever again, because you’re more than good enough for everything. Especially me.” He cups her cheek again using his thumb to wipe away what remains of her tear trail.

She smiles feeling her anxieties, sorrows, and worries slowly melting away by his words and affection.

“You’ll get into college,” he reassures. “And if not then we both can just run away together, skip out on society.”

She snorts and laughs, “Live in the woods with our woodland friends.”

“Living off the land,” he chuckles, warmed by the thought of their future together. “Just you and me kid.”

She sniffles again and smiles lovingly at him, “I’d like that.” She says and kisses him.

He smiles into the kiss and pulls her close to him. As they sit their in the drizzling rain, in an old swing, her in his lap, sharing sweet kisses it becomes clear to here in that exact moment. She knows that no matter what happens, no matter what doors open and close, no matter who turns away from her, there will always be one constant truth in her life. He will always be here with her. Her dork-a-doo, her Cassierole, her best friend.

Her Casanova

...who owes her some ice cream.

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liamakorn · 7 years

Text

Never Tell Them

Pairing: Crowley x OC (female)

Word Count: 7474

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrom to the max, babes, omfg. Angst. Fluff. Profanity. Mentions of abuse, mentions of rape. be careful if that triggers you, friend. Ummm, Crowley might be a bit out of character??? I really bumped up the romance, okay, I just really miss my king X’3 ALSO THIS IS TOTALLY OUT OF SYN WITH THE ACTUAL TIMELINE,OKAY. IT’S ALL OVER THE PLACE, i’M SRY ^w^

Summary: Okay, so. I suck at summaries, but here I go. There’s a new supernatural weapon of mass destruction in town. Sam and Dean wanna get rid of it. Crowley wants to use it (also Heaven rlly wants it too but, that isn’t really mentioned in the story, just fyi). Crowley gets his demons to kidnap OC (Elizabeth Carter), long time friend of the Winchester. He thinks she has it, she does not, obvi. Alot of torture, all for nothing. Or so they thought, but LO AND BEHOLD, LOVE HAS BLOSSOMED in a very not healthy way, like seriously, you are being tortured, girl, I know Mark Sheppard is super sexy, but lock it up.

Anyway. Hopefully, you enjoy this little blob I made. It’s really fucking sappy, I laughed, I cried, I threw up in my mouth a little. (I also hella miss Meg, btw. She deserved better, ChuckDammit. :<)

“So.”

There came that voice again. A dreadful, nerve fraying-ly sexy voice laced with a false courtesy that continued to push each and every one of her buttons. It always started like this. He’d waltz in, crisp black suit adorning his figure, polite smile on his face, and ask the same, boring ass questions.

“How are you this fine evening?”

Slowly, she let her auburn gaze drift up to meet his dark one. A tired smirk lifted the corners of her chapped lips, voice rough and crackly.

“Better, now you’re here.”

An almost amused chuckle slipped from the man, clicking his tongue sarcastically.

“Flattery, my dear Elizabeth, will get you everywhere.”

Demeanor the epitome of calm, he brought a chair in front of her, flipping it to sit backwards in an infuriatingly casual way. Elizabeth’s gaze hardened, smirk slipping from her features.

“What d’you want, Crowley?”

He huffed, leaning his chin in his hand with a bored expression.

“You know what I want. Where’s the box?”

The blonde rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat as much she could with the chains and rope holding her still. They didn’t play with this whole interrogation thing, did they?

Her voice came out exasperated and patronizing when she next spoke.

“For the last time, you stupid, insolent prick, I don't, nor have I EVER, known where that god forsaken box is. Why don't you go torture someone with actual information for a change?”

Of course, the box being referred to was none other than Pandora’s very own. See, while most of the terrible things inside had already escaped, there were still millions of monstrous beasts waiting to be unleashed. Anyone with that kind of power could easily overrule Heaven, Hell, or even Purgatory. It had become the job of the Winchester boys to find it, and seal it away for good, before anything remotely supernatural could get their hands on it.

Problem? Crowley, the self proclaimed King of Hell, wanted the box. Bad. And he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goal. Including, kidnapping the Winchesters’ best friend, and hunting partner; Elizabeth Carter.

Another problem? She didn’t know jack.

Crowley sighed yet again, looking like he wanted to be anywhere apart from there. Scooting his chair closer, he was within reaching distance, a knife suddenly in his hand. His accent, previously soft and lilting, took on a hard edge, brandishing the weapon close to her face.

“Listen here, pet. I have no time for your games. This is very serious, quite life and death. So I’d appreciate a little less attitude. Understand?”

Liz raised an eyebrow, not remotely fazed by this poorly guised threat. She leaned forward, lips practically brushing his.

“I. Don't. Know. Shit. You’d think you’d take the hint by now.”

Growling, the Demon King slashed the blade against her cheek, blood flowing from the wound down the side of her face. She barely flinched, licking her smirking lips as some of the liquid landed in the area. Crowley stood, storming away from the platinum blonde in frustration. However, what she said next brought both confusion and curiosity to his mind.

“You do know what’ll happen if you get the box, right?”

______________________________________________________________

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pivoted, narrowing his eyes at the petite girl. In many ways, she could be considered beautiful. Even in those ratty conditions, it was visible. Light, almost white hair, now hanging in knotted, greasy clumps. Large orangey, yellowy, light brown eyes that shifted with a fire, bags clinging for dear life beneath them. A curvy, yet lean figure, with bones peaking beneath the skin due to lack of proper food. Still, she held that spark, that drive. To be perfectly honest, it fascinated him. To have spent weeks, almost a month in hell, enduring torture and rigorous interrogation, and still maintain a sense of humor? It was a very rare sight, indeed. But of course, he forced himself to ignore her beauty. Tore his gaze away from her full lips, focused in on those burning eyes as her statement drew him in.

A questioning quirk in his brow, Crowley graced her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“By all means. Do enlighten me.”

He wasn’t sure whether her proud smirk turned him on or pissed him off. It could really go either way. He decided for the latter at the girl’s condescending tone.

“Once you have it, it’ll be the perfect opportunity for Lucifer’s return. You’re lovely hag mother will steal it, right under your nose, and use it to gain Satan’s favour once more. Then the Apocalypse, yadda yadda, you know the drill. Humans die, no more deals, sad Crowley has no more fwiends.”

A mix between a smile and a pout formed on her lips. He would’ve been angry if she didn’t have such a good point. Crowley fought to keep an even tone.

“Now, kitten, you know me. I would never let that happen.”

The giggle that escaped Elizabeth’s mouth was maybe the most irritatingly lovely thing he’d ever heard.

“Aww, look at you. So sure of yourself. So confident.”

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, sending a flirty wink his way.

“I like arrogance in a man.”

The sarcasm was grating on Crowley’s nerves more and more as time went on. It frustrated him to no end, in more ways than one. So, he decided, he’d switch tactics.

A small smirk on his face, a click...click… followed the demon’s black dress shoes, echoing around the dungeon as he slowly made his way towards the bound woman. Taking his time, Crowley kneeled down, squatting in front of her to achieve eye level. The smallest quirk of his lips revealed his satisfaction as she jumped, the King’s fingertips just grazing her thigh. Of course, the skin on skin contact allowed him to feel her heartbeat as well as hear it -it had been racing since he’d entered the room, and only accelerated at the touch.

Hm. Interesting development.

Focusing his gaze unto hers, Crowley allowed himself a moment to examine her. Well. More like ogle. Though she might’ve thinned a bit since her arrival, the minor malnutrition had done nothing to diminish her figure. In fact, at least in his opinion, the lack of muscle definition only accentuated her curves, gave a more...feminine appeal to her look. Her hips stood out most to him. Wide, sloping into an amazingly thin waist, achieving an effortless hourglass shape. And in those booty shorts? He had a difficult time staying professional, if he was absolutely honest. Which he never was.

He only allowed himself a few seconds before focusing back on task. It was enough, though.

“You’re drooling, Majesty.”

Crowley raised his brows, feigning shock for a moment before digging his thumb into a relatively fresh wound on the inside of her leg. Biting his lip, he watched as she gripped the arms of her chair, trying to contain a scream. Emphasis on try. Crowley was reluctant to admit the...effect it had on him, but hey. He was just a boy, sitting in front of a girl, trying not to cum in his pants as she cried out in pain.

Leaning forward, he was genuinely surprised at her sudden smile, observing in fascination as Liz actually pressed her thigh closer to his hand. That, mixed with the fire dancing behind that auburn gaze, was quite easily the most erotic thing he’d ever been witness to.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, hot stuff.”

Slowly, almost gently, he removed his thumb from the wound, sucking the blood from the digit with an audible sigh. Goddammit...it was delicious. He’d never been one of those demons, but fuck, if all blood tasted like that, he might have to try. After a series of very R rated thoughts, all compressed in a single moment, Crowley ran a finger down Elizabeth’s cheek, tangling the same hand in her matted hair and tugging sharply as he stood, keeping her eyes on him. He didn't fail to notice the way her thighs clenched, lips parting as a sharp gasp filled her lungs. A low chuckle escaped his chest.

“Ooh. Kinky.”

Using slow, deliberate movements, Crowley leaned forward, his lips brushing hers for the second time in the past five minutes. He’d be lying to say his face didn’t tingle while this close to the honorary Winchester. It amused him greatly when her body, almost unconsciously, leaned up toward his, seeking friction on her otherwise neglected lips.

He wasn't stupid. She was a hunter. A bloody good one, at that. A natural actress. This could be a very clever ploy to get him off his guard. That, or, she was just very horny. Either way, he scolded himself, it doesn’t matter. This is an interrogation. Are you gonna torture her, or flirt her to death? This is business.

Of course it was. Just business. Just. Business. He knew that. Still. It took a few repetitions for his breathing to calm.

Just breezing by her lips and cheek, Crowley pressed his mouth just below her ear, murmuring in the most rumbling, sensual voice he could manage:

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Elizabeth. Just give me the box, and then...we can start the real fun, hm?”

Pulling away the tiniest bit, the demon caught her gaze, faces inches from each other. Suddenly her lips quirked. A rattle of chains was all he heard before his knife was out of his hand and being swung at his neck. Somehow, his guard had faltered, allowing the girl to slip her bonds, if only by one arm.

Thankfully, she was slow. Tired. It was easy to grip her wrist and slam it to the chair, practically snapping the bones in the process. Not so easy to stop imagining slamming her hands to the wall, ravaging her mouth and claiming her as his own. He practically groaned aloud at the cruelty in her eyes. That anger. Oh, the hate sex they could have…

Quickly, he wrapped the chains back around her arm, making sure to fasten the bonds extra tight. Squatting in front of her yet again, Crowley tutted, lightly tapping his fingers against her thigh.

“Now, now, darling. That wasn’t very nice, was it? Do it again, and I’ll have to punish you.”

A curt laugh.

“Nobody likes a tease, Crowley.”

Smile matching hers, the demon king stood, making his way towards the door with a sigh.

“Well, dear, when you’re ready to talk, just scream my name. Lord knows I’ll enjoy it.”

Then, with a final wink, he was gone, leaving Elizabeth in the darkness once more.

~~~~~~~~

The next time Crowley visited Elizabeth, maybe two weeks later, she seemed infinitely more tired. She barely managed to lift her gaze, that fire dimmed to mere embers. Her light hair fell in matted clumps, greasy and untamed. Her skin was marred with bruises and fresh wounds. Her clothes, mere torn rags by that point, hung off her frame, bones straining from underneath her flesh. From his vantage point, Crowley could make out deep scratches in the wooden arms of her chair, nails ripped back from their beds. Still, she managed a half-assed smirk, voice shaky and rough.

“Long time, no see, lover. Didja miss me?”

The King almost growled, a sickened twist in his stomach rattling him as he witnessed the damage done to his girl prisoner. He could barely manage a disinterested tone.

“Whatever happened to you, darling? You seemed much more lively last time I checked on you.”

Her attempted laugh made him flinch.

“Well, darling, some of your dogs took it upon themselves to get some info outta me.”

She gave the tiniest tilt of her head, smirk widening.

“There was a very pretty one yesterday. I think she liked me. The determination in her eyes, so desperate to please.”

She gave a sarcastic shiver.

“Gave me chills.”

A snarl found itself on Crowley’s lips. He couldn’t quite place the discomfort in his gut. Why did the thought of other hands touching the girl make him want to crush every bone in that demon’s body?

“And who would these demons be, if you don't mind me asking? I want names, kitten.”

Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the ceiling, over-dramatizing her thought process.

“Good thing you’re puppies are so chatty. Let’s see here...Jasper. Kenny. Elijah. Aaaannnddd…..Regina.”

Rejoining her hard gaze to his own, the petite woman was about to continue when a sudden coughing fit overtook her, small spatterings of blood covering her bare legs. Without thinking about it, Crowley snapped in a glass of water, perching on the arm of her chair before holding it up to the girl’s lips gingerly.

His voice was much too soft for his liking as he murmured,

“Drink up, darling.”

Taking a slow gulp of the cool beverage, Elizabeth gave him a strange look, exhaling shakily.

“....thank you.”

Crowley almost smiled. Almost. He caught himself, quickly resuming his uncaring attitude before she could notice.

“Yes, well. Can’t have you dying on us now, can we? Not when there’s still information to be had.”

Snapping his fingers, the water was gone, smirk set like stone on his lips. The demon didn't miss the subtle fall of Elizabeth’s face, almost as if she was...disappointed. Trying, and failing, not to read too far into that, Crowley stood; not before turning and asking the same question as always, though, this time much gentler.

“Where’s the box, Elizabeth?”

A tired shrug was all he got. Sighing, yet again, the Demon King left the small dungeon, determined on finding and setting an example of those wretched pigs who dared interrogate his prisoner.

“Food will be sent down in a small while, kitten. I expect you to eat every last bite. Lord knows you need the strength.”

He could’ve sworn he heard her sigh in relief.

~~~~~~~

It wasn’t more than a few days before Crowley went to see Elizabeth again. Then again, a week after that. Barely even a full 24 hours the next time. Each visit, he was pleased to see that she got a tad better since the one prior. He’d made an effort to keep his demons away, sending food and water down more frequently. He also made an effort to ignore the whispers of the kingdom, gossip being spread of her ‘special treatment’ and how maybe the King was a bit too fond of Miss Carter. Whatever. It was nonsense, anyway. Peasant talk. She wasn’t getting any special treatment. This was merely a tactic. To keep her alive. To make her comfortable. To get the information.

It was like a mantra in his head. Almost as if he was convincing himself.

As he crossed the guarded threshold, Elizabeth’s eyes darted up, a surprisingly genuine smile lighting her face. Though her voice was still hard and throaty, sarcasm oozing from her words, there was something about that innate reaction that tugged Crowley’s blackened heartstrings. He almost felt...guilty for holding her there, wrapped in chains, treated like a prisoner.

She is a prisoner, dumbass.

“Howdy, Growley. How’s my royal pain in the ass this fine evening?”

She paused, an almost Cas like expression crossing her face.

“Or is it day? I can't really tell down here, it’s all so boring.”

Crowley bit his lip to contain a grin, secretly relishing the nickname. It was moments like these, where the banter and bickering seemed almost friendly, that really messed with his head. He shouldn’t want to laugh at her jokes. He shouldn't want to stare into her eyes, mesmerized by the flames flickering in their auburn depths. Her laugh shouldn't make his heart pound like it did, her smile shouldn't give him that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Disgusting. He was the King of goddamned Hell, he shouldn't be getting goddamned butterflies for this measly human.

And, yet, there he was.

Again, Crowley swung a chair around, leaning with the back of it facing Elizabeth. He could tell the nonchalance bothered her. That’s probably why he did it.

“Lizzy. Dear. All I need is a simple answer. Then you will be free to go wherever you choose. Paris, maybe. Italy. New York. Hell, back to Moose and Squirrel if that’s what you really want. It’s not difficult. Just tell me. Where. Is. The box?”

The heaviest possible sigh escaped her chest, then, almost as if these repetitions annoyed her. To be fair, they most likely did. That was sort of the point. Leaning as close to the demon as her chains would let her, Elizabeth startled him with the desperation in her tone, features soft for the first time he’d seen.

“Crowley. I really, truly have no idea where Pandora’s Box is. If I did, I would’ve told you ages ago. Even if it brought the Apocalypse. To be honest, I don't give a crap about the world. Humanity can burn for all I care. But I don't. Know.”

For a few seconds, there was silence. Crowley had multitudes of reasons not to believe her. After all. Hunter. Manipulator. Lying was kind of her forte. However, looking into her eyes, he couldn't help but want to trust her words. To unlock those restraints and set her free. But one thing still nagged at him.

Slowly, almost cautiously, the King stood from his perch, stepping around his chair to stand before the girl. Sometimes, he could forget how small she was. With a mouth like that, it was easy to neglect how truly fragile a human soul could be, even one as tough as hers. But now, he could see something; lurking in the back of her mind, standing just beyond the shadows.

He crouched before her, reminiscent of their previous meetings, a curious, wondering look upon his rugged face.

“Though I must admit, I am under every inclination to believe you… I am curious…”

He braced his hands on either side of her, thumbs grazing her outer thighs as he angled himself even closer, as if the proximity would easier reveal her secrets.

“...What makes you so keen on world destruction? As a member of the human race, you’d think you would be quite object to the idea of world wide extinction.”

As quick as it appeared, the softness subsided, gaze hardened like glass against his own dark one. When no answer came, a short chuckle emitted from the demon, smirk wide and amused.

“Ooh, sore subject, I see? Well, obviously something happened along the way to taint your view of your own species. Tell me,”

A growl seeped from the back of Elizabeth’s throat, but still he pressed on, determined to figure her out.

“Tell me, how old were you? You know, when you lost faith in humanity. 14? 20? Was it a boyfriend? A sister?”

Silence was his only answer, much to his dismay. Contrary to his flippant tone, Crowley was genuinely curious. However, it was obvious she was adverse to the subject, to say the least. So, hopping up, back on his feet, Crowley dared a bold move; he lightly tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Elizabeth’s ear, not missing the subtle flutter her eyes gave. Curiously, her gaze remained on the floor, as if...ashamed. Of what, Crowley couldn't be sure. At least, not for a few moments.

As he turned to leave, hand almost on the door, she piped up, tone low and murmuring, as if speaking too loud would be blasphemy.

“Seven.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, fingers frozen mid air as her answer washed over him.

“....I’m sorry?”

Her voice was shaky again, but for a much different reason than before.

“You asked when I lost faith. I was seven.”

Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Crowley’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How could you come to such a cynical conclusion at seven bloody years old???

He was almost afraid to ask. But, apparently, he didn't have to. All through her speech, Elizabeth’s eyes remained cast on the floor, voice quiet, almost fearful of what saying this truth aloud could mean.

“It was February. A few days before my birthday. For some reason it had snowed during the day, I remember because I’d spent the entirety making snowmen. After every one, I prayed to a different angel, wishing to be taken far, far away...For social services to bring me to some orphanage, or to be kidnapped or something. I wasn’t sure exactly where I wanted to go, but...but, yeah. A few days before my birthday. It was nighttime, and all the people had gone to bed. Which meant it was time for the gross smelling amber stuff to come out. I know what it was now, but then?”

She gave a sad huff of a laugh.

“I was so naive. I thought it was a...a potion that made you angry. And violent. I thought it was evil. Some form of witchcraft, or something...Which is why I never made a sound as I waited for the nightly visit from my father.”

The way Elizabeth spit the word out, as if it tasted bad on her tongue, made Crowley’s gut twist. He wanted to ask her to stop. He knew where this was going.

Instead, he sat back down, eyes trained on her face even as hers remained downcast.

“Any minute, he would walk through the door, and...and...but then, there was yelling. The sound of glass breaking, a loud thump. Two gunshots. For a moment, I-

Her lip quivered, causing her to pause. Quickly, she regained her composure, even as her voice trembled with unshed tears. She seemed to be looking everywhere but at Crowley.

“For a moment, I hoped that maybe he’d offed himself. That he had shot the nanny, or the dog, and then himself. I prayed to every angel I could name that I was finally free. Or that someone had broken in. Had killed them all. That I was ne-ext.”

For the first time, Liz’ eyes drifted towards his, that fire he so loved snuffed by the memories.

“I was seven. And I hoped beyond hope that I was alone. Seven years old, and praying for death.”

Her gaze dropped yet again, mind caught up in the past.

“But my prayers went unanswered. My door slammed open, and there he was. Brandishing a still smoking shotgun as he glared at me with such hatred. Such anger. His own child, and he hated her guts.”

Suddenly, her tone evened, the thickness gone in a matter of moments. The next sentences were uttered in an almost terrifying monotone.

“He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me through the house, and tossed me outside without a second thought. Didn't bother with a coat. Or food. Just tossed me out like the trash I was. Didn’t spare a second when I screamed, tears freezing on my cheeks as I saw my mother, half her face missing and splattered on the wall. Maybe that was why I didn’t jump, or scream, when I heard a third gunshot. Why I didn't run for help. Why I didn’t pray. No angel had answered my calls. Nobody had saved me. I couldn’t rely on anyone. I didn’t just lose faith in my father, or in humanity. I lost faith in Heaven. In God. If he truly existed, if his angels were so good and just, they wouldn’t have left me alone. Left me to suffer, to die.”

A single tear slipped past her cheek, even as her beautiful face remained stoic and expressionless. Gradually, she glanced up, a new fire lit in her gaze, this one angry and vengeful, like a witch’s pyre.

“Is that what you wanted, Crowley? My sob story?”

For the first time in his entire existence, Crowley was speechless. What could he have said? There were no words to describe what he was feeling, no words to make it better. This was a very old, very infected wound, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

It wasn't until he was stood before her that he realized he’d been unconsciously walking, reaching for her restraints without having to think about it. Elizabeth’s face contorted in confusion as the shackles were removed, chains and rope untangled to let her loose. Without a word, Crowley snapped his fingers, transporting them outside some rusty old bunker.

Crowley couldn’t even force himself to look at her, afraid she’d see the emotion in his eyes, the anger burning in his chest as he thought of what’d happened to her.

“You’re free to go.”

The shock on her face was evident, auburn eyes wide, jaw slack.

“W-what?”

It took every ounce of self control he had not to kiss that dumbstruck look off her face.

“You don’t know where the box is. There’s no point in torturing you for info you don't have. I will just have to find some other way. In the meantime, you’re free. To go. This,”

The King gestured widely, focusing on the abandoned warehouse to keep from meeting her gaze.

“This, is the Winchester’s ‘secret hideout’. They’ll patch you up, keep you safe, all that jazz. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very pressing matters to attend to. Tell Moose and Squirrel I said hello.”

Then, without giving her a chance to speak, Crowley snapped his fingers, returning to his throne with the biggest only a slight urge to return and snuggle kiss her senseless.

______________________________________________________________

What. In. The. FUCK. Just. Happened???

That was all Elizabeth could think for a solid five minutes, staring at the spot Crowley had been just moments before. It wasn't until the cold set in that she remembered, hey, she was kinda bleeding out all over the place. As quick as she could, the blonde limped towards the warehouse looking building, rapping as steadily as possible on the metal door. An iron slot was pulled back, eyes she knew all too well peeking out before widening almost comically, fumbling to yank to entrance open with a gasp.

“Elizabeth?!”

She tried for a reassuring smirk, only succeeding a grimace as she stumbled forward into Sam’s arms. Head against his chest, she could feel his heart quicken as he took in the blood, quickly lifting her and kicking the door closed as he rushed towards what looked like a library.

“DEAN! DEAN, C’MERE, IT’S LIZ!!!”

It wasn’t ten seconds later the man in question stumbled into the room, almost tripping in his haste. A short growl left his throat at the sight of her, not hesitating as he helped get the matted rags that used to be her clothes out of the way, while Sam searched for a first aid kit.

Elizabeth scoffed at the worried glances the older Winchester kept giving her, the sound forced and laced with pain.

“Don't worry about me, Thumper, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest up a few hours.”

Sam rolled his eyes, making his way over to investigate the wounds.

“I just need to rest up a few hours,” He mocked her, raising the pitch of his voice an octave to do so.

“There’s only serious damage done to my torso and limbs, it’s no biggie!”

Elizabeth deadpanned, ignoring the snickers coming from Dean.

“Are ya done, Sasquatch? Im kinda busy bleeding out here.”

There was no playfulness in Sam’s face as he cleaned up around the wounds, clenching his jaw every time she winced. It was silent for practically half an hour as they stitched her up, disinfecting as they went along. Finally, almost finished, Dean piped up.

“So, where were you, anyway? One day you just up and vanished! No note, all your stuff where you left it. I mean, we checked everywhere. Nobody had seen or heard from you in weeks!”

A soft sigh escaped the petite girl, glancing between the boys thoughtfully.

“...honestly?”

They nodded. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Hell.”

The word resonated in the room, shock clearly painted on the faces of her ‘brothers’. It took a few seconds for them to find any words, even more to put them in a sensible order.

“Wait, wait...Hell?! You were in Hell?!?!”

She gave a small nod.

“Yeppers. I was on a supply run, when demons cornered me. I wasn't fast enough, and they got the upper hand. Apparently, Mr. Crowley is very interested in a case of ours, and thought I had answers. Which obviously...I didn't.”

At the mention of the demon, Dean’s jaw clenched, fists gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Even Sam, the usually calm one, seemed pissed, flipping his knife back and forth in his hands agitatedly.

Attempting to sit up, Elizabeth winced, landing back on the table with a thud. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke.

“...he wants the box.”

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, heaving a long sigh that slurred into the beginning of his sentence.

“Uuugghh, of course he does.”

Sam’s eyes furrowed, glancing over her wounded figure thoughtfully.

“Wait a minute...you’re pretty beat up.”

A bitch face.

“Oh really? Thanks for lettin’ me know, Sasquatch, I hadn’t noticed.”

He rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean: You couldn’t walk more than five feet on your own. How in the hell did you escape...well...Hell??”

Elizabeth opened her mouth. Closed it again. Began to talk, stopped.

After a few seconds of thinking, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“He...he let me go.”

The room went dead silent, both pairs of eyes trained on her face. Dean was the first to recover.

“He what?! Sorry, I thought you said he let you go.”

“....he did.”

Sam crossed his arms, while Dean threw his arms up in the air, looking the epitome of exasperated.

“W-why?! Why would he just let his hostage go, it doesn’t make sense! I mean, unless-”

The older brother suddenly stopped talking, causing Liz to glance up at him. His eyes told a story of possible betrayal. She didn't even need to hear him say it.

“Liz, did yo-”

“What? Dean, no. I would never!”

He held his hands by his face in a defensive manner.

“Liz, if you made a deal-”

Suddenly, she was angry. Angry at Dean for insinuating that, angry at Sam for just standing by and letting him, angry at Crowley for confusing her so much. Even those old, vengeful thoughts rammed their way into her skull, reverberating in her chest. She was angry at Heaven, and Hell, and everything in between. So pissed, she couldn’t even breathe.

“How could you even-”

And then, just as suddenly. She wasn’t. As Elizabeth thought about it, she hadn’t been angry in a long, long time. When she first started hunting, when she first met the boys and John, she was so vengeful. She was furious, at everything and anything. Every monster was her dad, every victim her mom. It faded ever so slightly over time, so gradual she hadn't noticed. Until she met Castiel. And Balthazar. And Gabriel. And suddenly, she was mad again. This time at Heaven, at all the angels in the sky who had heard her. Heard her cry, heard her pray, and did nothing.

But then....that faded, too. All the hatred she had felt, all that rage, melted into...fatigue.Routine. Elizabeth tried so hard to be angry at Dean, to will up a comeback, to start screaming. But....she couldn’t.

It was almost like they could sense her mood swing, could see the defeat in her eyes. Something more than if she’d made a deal, or bribed Crowley somehow. Sam straightened, going to stop her as she gripped the table for leverage, heaving herself to her feet. He reached, fingers brushing her arms.

“Liz, no, you’re gonna tear your stitches-”

“Don’t touch me!” She spat, stumbling to her feet.

Sam retreated as if he’d been burned. Which he might as well have. She’d never snapped at him. Ever. Not in the 19 years she’d known him. Even Dean seemed rattled, regret filling his gaze at what he’d said, how little he seemed to trust her. That’s not how he meant to come off. It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking. Instead, Liz limped her way down the hallway, slowly but surely moving towards one of the empty rooms she’d noticed while being stitched up. Neither stopped her as she slammed the door.

~~~~~~

She didn’t speak for weeks. Didn’t leave her room. Sam brought food, left it at the door. She wouldn’t take it if he was there. She’d never tell them why she did it. That being in a small space, alone, was comforting. That while she’d been tortured, those hours by herself had been a blessing, that she’d trained her mind to think “alone=alive”. That every small noise outside her door caused her to flinch, anticipating a demon to come back and carve into her again. She would never tell them about the nightmares. How she woke up at 3 in the morning, every morning, breathing heavy with tears running down her face, skin sticky with sweat. She’d never mention these things, not even when she finally walked into the kitchen one morning, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. Eating the breakfast Sam placed in front of her without a word. Reading quietly in the library. Staying there for hours, staring at the same pages, the same words.

She wouldn’t tell them when she slipped from the Bunker, to an old abandoned shrine a few miles away. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d easily broken in. She wouldn’t tell them when she spotted what they’d been looking for for months.

She wouldn’t tell them that she’d found Pandora’s box.

______________________________________________________________

As he appeared, Crowley furrowed his brow, confused. Looking her over, up and down, he almost didn’t recognize the ravishing woman in front of him. It’d been so long since he saw her actually healthy, he’d nearly forgotten how breathtaking she could be.

Elizabeth stood before the King, no long malnourished, yet not muscly as he expected. A loose pair of jeans adorned her long legs, paired with a stretched out shirt and boots. The tank top formed beautifully around her curves, cleavage ever present above the collar. Her hair looked soft, almost white curls falling elegantly around her shoulders. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. That fire, the blaze of justice and strength that he so loved, seemed...dull. Fake. Like she was trying so hard to seem alright, but she wasn't. It shouldn’t have hurt him like it did.

That’s when he noticed where they were. A crossroads. But nobody else was there.

He smirked, trying to put off his growing dread.

“Well, don't you look lovely, darling. Can't say I’m not happy to see you...but where could my client have gone? Don’t tell me you scared them off.”

“...you’re lookin’ at her.”

He almost winced.

Keeping up the whole ‘asshole king’ schtick, Crowley sighed, giving a pleasant smile.

“Come on, darling. Really? After all that fighting, now you wanna deal? I don't give second chances.”

Her smirk matched his own.

“You will if I have what you want.”

“What could you possibly have that I-”

He stopped. Tilted his head. Assessed her expression.

“....The box?”

The smallest inclination of her head. A real, giddy smile lit up his face. Finally.

But…

“Hold on...I thought you didn’t know where the bloody thing is?”

Crowley sarcastically gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m hurt.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a miniscule smile. Suddenly, she placed her own hand on her chest, matching his tone almost...playfully. He could barely hear her over the pounding in his ears.

“I would never lie to you, Growley. I had no idea where the box was, honestly.”

She dropped the act, spreading her arms wide.

“But now, I do.”

Again, he sighed, taking a few steps closer.

“And why, exactly, would I not just torture you for that information?”

A smartass shrug.

“Didn’t work before.”

“Yes, but, you didn’t have info then. Now, you do.” He murmured, mocking her words of before. She gave a fake pout, drawing Crowley’s attention to her full lips.

“Aww, your Majesty, I thought you loved polite conversation!”

She suddenly gave a wicked smile.

“And I know you love to deal.”

He couldn’t help but grin back.

“A woman after my own heart.”

Again, the King took a step towards her, merely a foot across from the small woman. From here, he could perfectly see the different flecks of yellow and orange in her eyes, bringing such warmth and passion into the auburn depths. There was something different, though. Something that he couldn’t quite place, but seemed awfully familiar. Still, he ignored it, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if bothered by the chill, when in fact he couldn’t feel a thing.

“So.”

Her gaze flicked to his, and it was only then he realized she was checking him out. Crowley smirked, winking playfully at the blonde. To his surprise, a soft blush dusted her cheeks. He forced himself to believe it was just the cold air.

He continued, staring deep into her eyes.

“Where’s the box?”

Elizabeth smirked, shrugging yet again.

“I can't tell you. Not until we deal. You get the box. I get what I’ve always wanted. I think it sounds pretty damn fair, don’t you?”

He shrugged back, just to annoy her. He loved the frustrated gleam in her eye.

“Perfectly. So, what can I do for you, love, hm? Money, fame...a Lithuanian prostitute?”

Slowly, in the seconds of silence that followed his statement, Elizabeth’s facade cracked, revealing the full expression he’d glimpsed minutes ago. That had seemed hauntingly familiar. He’d seen it when she was talking about her past. About being abused and raped and tossed away. It was pure defeat. Fatigue so deep, no amount of sleep could heal it.

Her next words felt like he’d been stabbed in the lungs.

“...kill me.”

______________________________________________________________

Elizabeth couldn’t read his face, which scared her more than anything. After her statement, his expression slackened, completely blank for the longest time. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, tone softer than she’d anticipated.

“Why?”

A sigh escaped her, eyes trained on the snow dusted dirt beneath her feet.

“Because I’m tired, Crowley. Tired of hunting. Tired of fighting. Tired of getting up every morning, dreading the day because it’ll just be more of the same. Going through the motions. Pretending to be there. Pretending to be angry, acting like I give a shit about what happens to the world.”

She looked at him then, astonished by the emotion in his gaze. She decided she was imagining it. He didn’t care. He was curious. He didn’t care. He didn't care.

“I’m so tired. So please. Just kill me. Hellhounds, maybe, to seem like I put up a fight. Just...please.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Crowley moved towards her, now a mere inch away. She could touch him if she wanted. Which she definitely didn’t want. At all. She did.

Then he pulled an angel blade from his jacket.

“Gladly.”

She almost flinched. But then, her eyes shifted, catching the motion of his hand as he flipped it to face towards him, point pressed against his sternum.

“Right after I kill myself.”

A gasp left her, hand grabbing the blade without her consent and dropping it to the ground. She stared at it, breathing hard as she realized what’d happened. How quick her reaction was. How strong the urge to protect him had been. How angry she was that he’d try and pull something like that.

“No.”

Feeling his fingertips on her chin, Elizabeth looked up, not even concealing the tears in her eyes. Crowley’s gaze was almost tender as he caught one beneath his thumb, wiping it away while maintaining eye contact. His next statement caught her completely off guard.

“Then don't ever, ask me to do that again. Understand?”

Though his tone was gentle, it left no room for argument. She couldn’t even nod. Just stood, confused, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

“...why?”

She hated how weak she sounded in that moment. Voice shaky, thick with tears, breathing fast and short. He took a while thinking, grazing his thumb over her lips while doing so. Eventually, he spoke, though not about what she expected. Or wanted.

“New deal.”

Though kind of disappointed, she nodded anyway, curious as to what this entailed. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye, drawing the tiniest of smiles from the blonde. He seemed to have that effect.

“New deal is: You show me where the box is...and I take you away from this life.”

Her smile grew, liking this deal already. A shaky laugh left her.

“H-how?”

“Simple, my dear. You could stop hunting. No more fighting, no more bruises. No more broken bones or broken hearts. You would live in luxury. Anything you could ever want...like a queen.”

Her breath halted, eyes widening. She didn’t dare let herself hope, but...could he mean..

Elizabeth’s voice was trembling with barely contained joy, expression melting into an impish grin. She hesitantly moved closer, their bodies almost pressed together by that point.

“And...w-whose queen would I be?”

His smirk softened to a fond smile, searching her gaze apprehensively.

“Well...mine, hopefully.”

She couldn’t help the face splitting smile that graced her lips, shocking even herself at the giggle that escaped her chest. She mischievously placing her arms on his shoulders as she pretended to think.

“Hmm...I dunno. Does Lucifer need a queen anytime soon?”

“That’s not funny.”

Even as the words were said, Crowley had a million dollar grin on his face, as if he just won the lottery. Which, unbeknownst to her, was exactly how he felt.

She still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d turned her mood around. Just an hour before, she was ready to die. Now? For the first time, in a long time, she was excited to live. Without pain. Without hunting.

Hunting.

Elizabeth grimaced, thinking of the Winchester boys. They were like her brothers, how could she just become the Queen of Hell, and not betray them? How could she hand over Pandora’s box, and allow Crowley to take over everything, and not hurt them in the process?

“Moose and Squirrel will not be harmed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Earth, pretty much, I’ll leave alone. No need to mess with the livestock.”

She gave a playful glare, only causing him to waggle his brows suggestively. After a few moments she couldn't help her laugh, leaning her forehead against his chest as her giggles faded. A soft sigh left the blonde as he wrapped his arms around her body, soft black material encasing her, trapping his body heat in to block the cold.

“So.”

His voice broke through her thoughts, causing her to look up into his dark eyes expectantly. He smirked and winked.

“Should we seal this deal, then?”

Pretending to be exasperated, Elizabeth heavily sighed, acting annoyed before reaching up and crashing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

She would never tell the Winchesters how close she came to death. She would never mention how relieved she’d been when Crowley pulled out the blade. Or how scared when he turned it on himself. She’d never tell them how soft his lips had been as she kissed him, relishing the dig of his fingers at her hips as he groaned, the embrace long in the making. She’d never tell them about showing him the crypt where the box was hidden, protected from all eyes in Ancient Greek letters even time had forgotten about. She’d never tell them about the first night she spent in Crowley’s castle, falling asleep quickly. How, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly, waking more rested than she’d ever been. She’d never tell them the feeling of opening her eyes to see Crowley staring back, not having had to sleep yet staying by her side anyway, just to make sure she was alright. She would never tell the boys the rush of relief and peace she felt that morning. How, for the first time in her life, she was home. Even in this weird, unlikely romance, she felt safe. Warm.

She would never tell the Winchesters the story of her ascent to the throne, or of the love her and Crowley shared.

And she would never tell Crowley that, in finding him, and the passion and dedication he showed her everyday, she’d found it. What she’d been missing her whole life.

She’d never tell anybody but Castiel. That, in finding her king;

She’d found her faith.

(HUGS AND KISSES FOR ALL OKAY, LUV YA, BABES!!!! ~Ali)

#Supernatural #Crowley #My King #crowley x reader #crowley x oc #original #trigger warning: abuse #trigger warning: rape #My poor baby #Sappy af #all the fluff #hugs and kisses

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