#lime i just wanna make an appointment and be like what do YOU think would suit me???

[grossillygirl]

I've been really into my black clothing recently :) and brown. I really wish i had the confidence to wear skirts and dresses out :( i honestly think that once i cut my hair, i will feel x10 more confident. I just want to get it cut VERY soon though. And idk if i wanna cut it myself cus ik I'll mess it up 😭

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine....

Dominant Erik sees his ex gf at a party/ Dominant Erik and his soft ex gf he lost by being a fuck boi keeps taunting him about how much he can’t have this anymore since she has a new man. Erik is jealous and he has to remind her who Daddy really is

Warnings: HARDCORE SMUT. Dom & Sub play. Voyeurism. Edging. Nasty talk. Jealousy.

“Y/N, get the croissants so you can make those bomb-ass breakfast sandwiches.”

“Which ones? The big ones or the small ones?”

“The big ones.”

Y/N crouches down in a squat to grab four big croissants for her and her roommate, Ivory, to have. She was famous for making the best breakfast sandwiches. Y/N grew up in a southern home with two parents who have their own catering business. She learned to cook at the age of 6, bringing a stool over to the stove, making breakfast and lunch for her younger siblings. Now, her Cali friends can’t shut up about how great of a cook she is. Her friend from UCLA, Tommie, is having a pool party/ tattoo party at her place this evening and she asked Y/N if she could cook some dishes. She didn’t have to worry about the grilled items. Y/N was asked to make curry chicken, barbecued ribs, seafood salad, and potato salad. She already whipped up the salads yesterday so all she had to do was cook the marinated chicken and ribs so they would be fresh and ready to devour.

“I need to get my ass out of this market. If I stay in here I’ll end up spending more money and we still have to pay off the rest of the new furniture set.”

“We have enough saved, let’s splurge,” Ivory spoke while grabbing some junk food.

“The money we have saved is for emergencies, Ivory, like if our cars start fucking up? If some big weather crisis happens and we have to stock up on food for a while?”

“Girl lets live life and stop worrying about money all the damn time. You’ll be graduating next year with your Master's degree.”

Y/N chuckles, “that’s next year though. Did you get the avocados?”

Ivory held up a bag filled with them, “You know I couldn’t forget. We eat these with everything.”

“True,” Y/N stood up, pulling a wedgey from between her ass cheeks.

“One more thing,” Ivory pulled up the list of groceries from her notes in her phone, “Cookies and cream ice cream.”

“And extra Oreos because they don’t put enough in there for me,” Y/N walked to the cart, heading back down the aisle. She spotted the cookies, grabbing two packs of double-stuffed Oreos. Y/N and Ivory made a right outside of the aisle, heading towards the frozen section to grab their tub of ice cream. Ivory was currently texting away with a grin on her face, almost bumping into an Indian couple with their child. Y/N knew she was texting the group chat that included Tommie and herself because her phone kept vibrating in her Louis Vuitton purse sitting in the cart.

“Tommie wants to know if you are bringing your new boo?”

“Terrence? Yeah, I’m bringing him,” Y/N looked up at the signs above the frozen aisles to make sure she was heading towards the correct one.

“Ah, ice cream,” She made a left, Ivory following slowly behind her.

“She also wanted me to let you know that Erik is coming so be prepared.”

“Erik who?” Y/N says while bending over to grab some ice cream. Ivory held the door to the freezer open for her.

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

“All I know is a nigga named Erik who is a fuck boi. The biggest fuck boi ever,” Y/N places the ice cream in the cart, “Ready to checkout?”

Ivory purses her lips, “How long have y’all been broken up? Still ain’t over it?”

“For about...eight months now. Eight months of peace and no drama. He’s irrelevant to me. Every time I hear the name Erik I wanna fight somebody and I’m not the fighting type.”

“Does Terrence know about him?”

Y/N glares at Ivory, “No. why? Should I have mentioned him? I didn’t think I needed to.”

Ivory didn’t say another word until they made it to the car. All things were purchased and bagged up. Y/N opened the trunk with a push of a button, bringing the cart over so she could pass the bags to Ivory. Once the trunk was loaded, Y/N walked the cart to place it with the others. She made her way back, Ivory driving this time since Y/N drove to the market.

“I RATHER BE YOUR B.I.T.C.H CAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU GON’ CALL ME WHEN I’M TRIPPING ANYWAY!” Y/N jammed to Megan Thee Stallion’s song that played from Ivory’s iTunes. She grinds her hips in her seat, thick ass and thighs moving, windows rolled down making her top knot curly bun frizzy, and snapping her fingers.

“Aye, you know you can’t control me, baby, you need a real one in your life them bitches ain’t gon’ give it to you right!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

“Bitch, who you singing to? Soft Boi Terrence or Fuck Boi Erik?”

“Neither, I’m just singing, girl. Why I gotta be singing to a nigga?” Y/N turned down the music.

“Because, bitch, I peep what you’ve been doing on the GRAM.”

“What have I been doing Ivory?” Y/N asked defensively.

“My girl ain’t so sweet anymore,” Ivory raises both of her brows, “The captions under your pictures? The music you post in your stories? Who are you tryna piss off?”

“I know this ain’t about Erik ain’t shit ass,” Y/N argues while talking with her hands, long acrylic nails swaying like she was ghetto fabulous, “Cuz if it is you can cut this shit out real quick.”

“Let me give you an example,” Ivory clears her throat, “You wish this was still your pussy, HUH?”

“Girl, that’s a quote from a song,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Well, how about, Fuck Boys played out, let’s treat these niggas how they treat us. Y/N, I’m not the only one who’s noticed, girl. And you didn’t unfollow Erik on Instagram. You want him to see all your posts so he can get jealous and miss what he can’t have that’s what you’re doing.”

“What’s wrong with that though?” Y/N shrugs, “He crept around with other bitches, so what’s wrong with me letting him know that he will never find another girl like me? I want him to feel it. Terrence might be soft and sweet but he treats me with respect. Erik just wanted to get his dick wet. He didn’t take what we had seriously, Ivory. I don’t care how fine or how big that nigga dick is he fucked up.”

“OKAY. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just don’t want you to dwell on him. Then, that means he won, right?”

“I don’t want him to win,” Y/N spoke with a pout of her lips, “I want him to remember what he lost, that’s all. I want him to watch me glow up on his big-headed ass.”

“Girl...we both know Erik. We know how he had you running behind him. If that nigga said get on your knees for Daddy, what you gon’ do? GET ON YOUR KNEES!”

“Nah,” Y/N folds her arms over her hefty chest, “Nope. He doesn’t have that power over me anymore-“

“I remember the stories, Y/N. How he taught you to be the best freak. Girl, you can’t just throw that away.”

“Who’s side are you on?” Y/N spoke with rage.

“Nobody’s side. I just know you still have feelings for him, that’s all. Don’t do Terrence like that. He’s just a filler, we both know this.”

“I really like Terrence. He’s the man I should be with, not Erik. My mama warned me about men like Erik. They sweet talk you, fuck you good, then break your heart and move on to the next bitch. She said it with those exact words. I always told myself I would never get with a dude like Erik and here my dumb ass go skipping to a dick appointment and coming out bow-legged.”

Ivory was in a fit of laughter wheezing and clutching her aching belly. Y/N turned the music back up, shaking her head at the fact that she even had to talk about him again. She wanted Erik and everything he did to her out of her mind. It took a while for Y/N to forget the good times. The nights where they laid up under eachother, talking about everything under the sun. The way he kissed her. How hungry he was for her each time he saw her. How he made her body react to him. Made her cum from dick for the first time. Turned her over to the BDSM lifestyle, becoming his 24/7 slut. It was fun, exhilarating, risky, sexy, wild, passionate, but then she found out he has multiple bitches calling him Daddy and submitting to him. That was the last draw. She cut ties with him and he acted like he didn’t give a fuck.

“So I won’t give a fuck,” Y/N held her head high, “I’m gonna enjoy being petty.”

“You’re grown,” Ivory ended it, turning into their apartment complex.

————————-

The Splash party/ Tattoo party will start around 6 PM and would end whenever. Tommie, the host and Y/N’s Instagram Model friend, was currently on the phone with the moon bounce crew about when they would arrive. Ivory and Y/N were in the kitchen taking the shells off of the boiled eggs. The dank smell of weed filtered into the kitchen from out back while Ivory and Y/N continued with the eggs. They had so many to do. Terrence was out back helping Tommie’s boyfriend, DJ, blow up the floaties and other pool accessories. Most of the hot food was in the oven on low heat. The grill master, another friend of theirs, Bryson, was seasoning the meat outside so he could start the grilling process. Y/N didn’t have on her bikini like Ivory and Tommie did. Y/N has a lime green bikini packed away in a holographic tote bag. She had on a pair of elastic waistband pink velvet shorts and a cropped airbrushed T-shirt that read Spoil Me.

“Is that my nigga Erik?!” DJ yells.

Y/N didn’t react, she didn’t flinch or jump to look at him. She continued scooping the yoke out of the middle of the boiled egg whites.

“So, you’re the drink plug then? Where’s the rest of the liquor?”

“In the truck.”

His voice. She hadn’t heard it in about seven months. She forgot how raspy and alluring it was. Now, she was remembering the way he used to talk to her. Instruct her to sit on his dick or suck his dick with no hands.

“We may need to make one more run. You know Tommie’s friends with everybody,” Erik laughs.

That laugh was infectious. Y/N licks her lips, picking up another egg to cut into.

“Who’s here already?” Erik asked.

“Bryson, Ivory, Y/N, and her boyfriend Terrance.”

“Oh, for real? Let me go say wassup.”

Y/N’s breathing quickened. She wondered how her hair looked slicked back in a bun or how thick she looked in her velvet shorts. All thoughts she wished she didn’t have but couldn’t help. Ivory was too busy singing to Ari Lennox that played from her phone to pay attention to Y/N. Footsteps finally settled in the kitchen. Y/N looked up through her lashes, staring at her ex. Erik Stevens. He put on more muscle. Skin a deeper brown from the sun. Dreads in his hair now and not that kinky fro she remembered him having. Orange swim trunks on and a half-buttoned white linen shirt that showed off gold chains hanging from his neck. He was carrying a box filled with dark liquor.

“Sup?” He spoke to both Ivory and Y/N. Y/N didn’t speak.

“Hey, Erik,” Ivory waves to him with a knife in her hand, “How have you been?”

“Pretty good, how about you?”

“Same me, what did you bring for us?” Ivory peered her big brown eyes into his box, “Hennessy, Long Island, D’usse! good choices.”

“More coming too,” Erik smiles. His eyes looking past Ivory’s braided hair to stare at Y/N, “Hey, Pinky.”

He actually called her that. Her hair wasn’t even pink anymore. She went back to her natural dark brown. He said that shit to piss her off.

“Damn, rude ass,” Erik kissed his teeth, “Where you want these at, DJ?”

“Come on, let me show you.”

—————————-

“Erik, this is Terrence, Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Terrence was taller than Erik and slender. Skin a hickory brown, silky waves in his jet black hair, full lips and sepia eyes. His chest and arms were covered in tattoos. He has on black and grey striped trunks with no shirt. His body was wet from being in the pool to place the pool lights and floaties.

“Hey, man,” Terrence shook Erik’s hand with his wet one, “Oh, snap!” Terrence pulls a bottle of Hennessy from Erik’s liquor box, “Can we open this now?”

“I don’t care, it’s for everybody,” Erik walks away, sitting the box down on an empty table next to ice buckets that DJ told him was the bar.

“Where do I know you from?” Terrence asked while following Erik to the drink table.

“I’m well known. I’m a party promoter and I own my own night club-“

“OH YEAH. That’s where I know you from. I follow you on Instagram. I’ve been to a few of your parties. Your shit be jumping off, bruh.”

“Thanks.” Erik started taking the bottles out of the box.

“I also know that you and Y/N used to fuck with each other.”

A smile crept up Erik’s lips, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. And let me just say this now before I walk away. Don’t think about speaking to her. She’s with me now. Clearly, she left your ass for a reason. She didn’t tell me exactly who her ex was but she did say he was a cheating ass bitch. Stay away from her, aight?”

“Step off, nigga, before I make you,” Erik’s eyes were dark and menacing. Y/N failed to mention that Erik was dangerous. Killer dangerous, “She ain’t mention how I kill niggas for a living too? Don’t end up on my list tryna defend your bitch. I had her, I know how she feels. Still nice and tight? Still gotta lay the towels down under her big ol’ ass because she squirts too much? Did she mention how I call her Pinky because her hair used to be hot pink and how she sucked on the dick real good?”

Terrence simply scowled at Erik. He looked like he wanted to bust Erik’s head open with one of those liquor bottles but not once did he make a move to correct Erik or hit him. Erik smirks before grabbing the Hennessy bottle from Terence, opening it, and drinking from it in his face. Erik wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes unblinking and murderous.

“Nothing to say? What happened to the tough guy? I like a challenge-“

“Just stay away from her, she doesn’t need you, she got me-“

“Are you insecure, homie? For you to approach me like this right off the back lets me know that you’re afraid I may take her away.”

“I’m not tryna ruin Tommie’s party, homie-“

“Nah, you feel insecure. If you know me then you must know how I get down. Pinky ain’t mention how she used to be my little slut? If I make you my little slut that means you’re still mine.”

“Y’all Aight?!” DJ yells over at Terrence and Erik from the pool, “Y’all niggas ain’t about to fight over Y/N are y’all?”

“NAH,” Erik yells, clapping Terrence on the back, “Just getting to know Terrence more. Decent guy.”

Erik walked away, bumping Terrence’s shoulder so hard he stumbled. Terrence braces himself on the table before looking back at Erik with fury. Once again, Terrence didn’t do shit.

“You know,” Erik takes off his checkered Vans before putting his feet in the water, “Y/N really needs to find a nigga with some backbone next time.”

“What did you say?” DJ asks with a shake of his long dreads, “Did you threaten that nigga, Kill?”

“Nah, he tried to threaten me though. Ain’t work. How long him and Pinky been dealing with each other?”

“Probably for five months. They met through me. Terrence came with me to a house party and next thing I know he and Y/N hitting it off. They exchanged numbers and been down for each other ever since.”

“That shit won’t last,” Erik took a swig of Hennessy, “she still talks about me?”

“No, Erik. That girl doesn’t mention your name, ever.”

“She still thinking about me with all those shady captions she posts on Instagram. She turned into a real gangsta on a nigga,” Erik chuckles, “I know it ain’t because of him.”

“E, DONT act a fool, bruh.”

“She shouldn’t have come. She should have stayed her fine ass home then.”

—————————

Y/N was standing in Tommie’s master bathroom tying the strings to her bikini thong. She grabs her phone from the sink to take a boomerang of her in the bikini for her Instagram story. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but Y/N was intentionally stalling in the bathroom. Other guests already began to pour in and eat the food. The music from the DJ at the pool could be heard all the way in the bathroom, Roddy Rich- The Box playing. Terrence was probably already drunk by the pool since he couldn’t keep a drink out of his hand. Ivory was probably scouting the crowd full of men for someone to potentially take with her back to the apartment later. And Erik...

“Stop thinking about him.” Y/N spoke to herself in the mirror. She sighs, grabbing her matching lime green kimono to put around herself. Y/N headed out of the bathroom, walking down the hall and descending the steps towards the party. The house was empty, everyone out in Tommie’s big yard partying. When Y/N arrived, she smiled wide. This was like a 90’s pool party. Women dancing and walking around in tiny bikinis. Men dunking chicks in the pool or carrying them on their shoulders in the water. Towels laid out in the grass, people sitting on them with plates of food in their hands while others sat on chairs with their knees together to hold their plates of food. Moon bounce in full effect too. Tommie even has a slip n’ slide.

“Baby!” Terrence came over to Y/N with his arms out and an annoyed expression on his face, “Where have you been for the past hour? Sleeping?”

“No, getting dressed,” Y/N bats her lashes innocently, “You aren’t mad at me, are you?”

“Nah, that nigga over there is just irritating me.”

Y/N gave Terrence a perplexed look, “What nigga?”

“Your ex.”

Y/N looked up in time to see Erik surrounded by a group of half-naked women in the pool. They all splashed him, Erik picking one of them up to toss back into the pool. The other who tried to splash him was resting on a flamingo floaty. Erik flips the floaty over, the girl shrieking as she went underwater.

“How did you find out?” Y/N turned her eyes back on Terrence.

“Found a picture of you and him on his Instagram at a party he promoted for.”

Y/N looks away, a guilty expression on her face.

“Why did you hide that from me?”

“You wanna do this right now, Terrence?” Y/N folded her arms, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t cause a scene.

“Just answer the question, he’s gonna be here a while and I have to see his ugly mug until we leave. And Pinky? What’s up with that-“

“WHAT?!” Y/N raised her voice.

“He told me he called you Pinky because you used to have hot pink hair-“

“This conversation is over, Terrence. I didn’t come here to talk about my ex I came here to have fun- AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Y/N was being tossed into the pool. She didn’t have time to prepare herself as the chlorine water burned in her nose. Her hands splashed frantically before she went under again. Gaining her footing, Y/N broke the water surface, coughing with her eyes squeezed shut. Snickering and shouts surrounded her. Y/N finally opens her reddish eyes, staring up at a laughing Erik with his wet muscular body standing over her on the pool edge.

“NEED SOME HELP OUT OF THERE?” He teased.

Y/N was about to charge him until she saw the straps to her bikini top floating in front of her. She screamed, causing more people to laugh. Tommie and a few other girls came over while Y/N held the front of her bikini top tightly so it wouldn’t float away.

“SERIOUSLY, BRUH?!” Terrence was ready to attack Erik but Erik’s friends held him off, trying to calm him down.

“All jokes, Terrence. Y/N is used to it. Falls for the shit every time. Ain’t that right, Pinky?”

Y/N was embarrassed. Finally secured, she swam to the pool ladder, climbing out of it while glaring at Erik with vengeance. Her hair was out of its bun, wet curly hair smoothing down her back. The kimono she wore was currently floating in the pool and her ears were filled with water. She rushed away and back into the house, a finger in her ear swishing around to help get the water out. Y/N almost slips on the tile of the kitchen floor when she made it back inside.

“UGHHHHHH.” She groaned loudly.

“Baby, you Aight? Here,” Terrence held out her fluffy SpongeBob beach towel for her, “I know you’re cold.”

“Thanks, DICK,” Y/N snatched the towel.

“Why the attitude towards me?” Terrence spoke offensively.

“Because I have a feeling you said something to Erik. You knew he was coming, didn’t you? You had an entire speech waiting for him when he arrived? Now, he’s provoked and he will do whatever it takes to piss you and me off. So THANK YOU!!!! I am SO GRATEFUL!”

“Chill out with all of that. Yeah, I did approach him. I told him to keep his focus on everything and everyone else besides you-“

“Why though? You scared he’s gonna come back into my life? That’s a wack nigga move on your end,” Y/N wraps the towel around her waist, “I’m gonna go clear my head. Why don’t you go back out there and stir up some more shit.”

“Y/N!” Terrence yelled out as her back turned. She stomped through the living room, spotting a bottle of Tequila, grabbing it, and walking upstairs to Tommie’s room.

————————

Y/N was sitting on Tommie’s balcony, staring down at the party with a gloomy expression. Erik was down there partying with his third plate of food in his hand. Ivory was in the pool playing shoulder wars, better known as chicken fight with one of Tommie’s model friends. Bryson was sweating bullets at the grill and Tommie and DJ sat on the pool edge with drinks in their hands. Y/N couldn’t spot Terrence. She didn’t care honestly. Y/N was burning through that bottle of Tequila. She could feel the earth rocking beneath her and her mind drifting in and out like a tide. Y/N stares with blurry eyes at the bottle in her hand. It was almost gone. She rolls her eyes, capping the rest before throwing the bottle on the balcony couch that Tommie has. Y/N stood on wobbly legs, bracing herself on the glass sliding doors before entering the house. She needed to eat but she didn’t want to walk back out there.

Y/N picks up her phone from Tommie’s canopy bed, ready to dial for Tommie but before she could, her phone was buzzing in her hand from an incoming call. She didn’t bother to see who it was, answering the phone anyway.

“He-hello?”

“You tore up already, ma?”

That voice almost made her sober.

“Why the FUCK do you still have my number?”

“Because I can. Where you at?”

“FUCK. YOU.” Y/N spoke with a slurred voice.

“Just tell me where you are so I can come to the rescue like always.”

“No, Fuck Boy, I’d rather lay in my own vomit than be near you for another fucking second you piece of shit.”

“Damn, I really turned you into a Lil’ savage, huh?”

“Erik...I am hanging up.”

Y/N ended the call.

“Sup, Pinky?”

Y/N felt like her body was moving in slow motion. She looked towards the entrance to Tommie’s bedroom. There, in his orange trunks, bare feet and shirtless was Erik himself. He has a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Y/N asked while blinking up at Erik. She felt like her head was spinning.

“Because...I know you still like it. You gon’ always be Pinky to me...my Pinky. Ain’t gon’ never change.”

“What do you think is going to happen for you? You think because you bring me food and water I’m gonna get down on my knees for you? I’m not your submissive anymore, Erik.”

“I’m not here to argue with you I’m here to sober you up, here,” Erik places the plate filled with a burnt hotdog, some cucumber salad, and deviled eggs, “I figured this would be the perfect food to soak up that alcohol. I saw you throwing that bottle back like it was water.”

Y/N didn’t say thank you but she did accept the food. She was starving. Erik sat on the other side of the bed, watching her eat like she was his favorite movie. She ate quickly, burping and all. Y/N grabs the water from the bed, uncapping it before gulping that water down in a rush. She felt better even though she was still tipsy. Her head didn’t spin like before and she could stand with a better center of gravity on her two feet.

“You ain’t gotta thank me. I know your pride won’t let you. You’re welcome anyway.”

“You can go now.” Y/N got up from Tommie’s bed, walking to the bathroom to rinse her mouth out with Listerine.

“I like it up here more,” Erik follows her, his eyes watching her ass sway, “We can catch up and shit.”

“Catch up? Boy-“

“I’m a grown-ass man, Y/N.” Erik cuts her off quickly.

“Fuck Boy’s are little boys to me,” Y/N rolls her eyes at Erik in the mirror, “Now, why don’t you make yourself scarce and leave me the fuck alone, yeah?”

Erik had a glint in his eyes that Y/N would usually flench at but this time she didn’t give a fuck.

“What? I’m being too bratty for you? You want to punish me?” Y/N let out a short suppressed laugh, “Please.”

“Keep talking, watch what I do next.”

“Nothing!” Y/N swished the Listerine around her mouth thoroughly before spitting it out. “You don’t get to tame me again. I’m gonna go to the party, swim, freak dance with all this ass on my boyfriend, and spend time with my friends. You do you, and I’ll do me, okay?”

Y/N rinses out the Listerine cap, twisting it back on the bottle, then walking back to the bedroom. Erik walked out behind her slowly, his hands clenched in fists and his nostrils flared. Y/N ignored him completely, reaching out to grab her phone only to see it vibrating with an incoming call.

“Ah, that’s my man right now,” Y/N picks up the phone to answer it, “Hey, baby,” Y/N looked over at Erik and he was green with envy, “I’m better. I just took a little nap. You know how I can be when I’m tired.”

Erik’s covetous expression didn’t go unnoticed. Y/N got onto the bed slowly, feet swinging behind her while she twirled a piece of her curly hair, putting on a sweet and honeyed voice. She was playing with him. The little minx.

“I’ll be down, Daddy...Mhm, I’m so sorry I was so pissed with you earlier. I just get so angry sometimes...Mhm, I just need some sex that’s all.”

“Y/N...put the phone down, now,” Erik warned her with a quiet rough tone. He steps a little closer.

Y/N rolled over onto her back, “I promise, I’ll be a good girl,” Y/N giggles, “Yes, fuck Erik, I’m your new good girl-“

“Y/N. Do it now before I tear that ass up, girl, I’m not playing with you.” Erik tries to grab her phone but Y/N backs away on her knees, getting out the canopy bed.

“Yes, Daddy, you’re my new Daddy, fuck Erik-“

Her phone was snatched from her hand and placed in his trunks. Y/N shoves Erik away aggressively. That was the wrong move. Erik picked Y/N up, covering her mouth to muffle her screams, walking towards one of Tommie’s bedroom closets since she had two of them, opening it, then stepping inside. He sat her down, finding the light switch in the closet. Erik looks down at Y/N, her chest rising and falling with deep gasping breaths, body backing away into a corner. Erik didn’t blink. He didn’t even speak. His body was pressed firmly against hers, trapping her in the corner. Y/N could only look at either his eyes or his chest. His skin smelled like chlorine and Shea butter.

“Done playing with me?” He spoke finally, “Cuz I didn’t find that shit funny.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Y/N teased, “Jealous that I have a new Daddy to fuck and not you?”

“More like pissed the FUCK off. You had your little rebellious fun for these eight months. Now, I gotta properly get in that ass. Like I said...you done playing with me?”

“No,” Y/N smiles, “You need to hurry up with your I’m still Daddy speech I got a date with my man at the pool-“

“Oh, I’m done talking. You know...talking doesn’t seem to work for you anymore since you turned into a Lil’ savage on a nigga. I gotta use action...”

“Erik, move,” Y/N bumps past him, turning the doorknob only for it to be locked. Confused, Y/N jiggled the knob and twisted it with more force, her upper arm burning from her muscles being worked out. Pausing, Y/N looked from side to side nervously, her hand still on that brass doorknob. Now, she was screaming, practically yanking Tommie’s doorknob. Erik brings a hand around to cover her mouth, pulling her further into the closet, forcefully placing her back against the wall. Y/N still wanted to scream even though Erik’s hand was pressed over her lips. She bites down on one of his fingers, thinking that would help her but it only pissed Erik off more.

“Shut the fuck up with all that noise,” Erik whispered angrily into her ear, “Yelling like a fucking child. SHUT UP.”

“Mmmm!” She tries to speak. Erik’s face was dangerously close to hers.

“Couldn’t get out?” She blinked up into his onyx eyes, “couldn’t escape? How does it feel that you are locked inside of a closet with me right now, Hmm? My Pinky scared?” Erik removes his hand from her mouth, Y/N shaking with fear, “Yell Terrence name. I want you to yell as loud as you can.”

“WHAT-“ she was cut off with a hand around her throat.

“Do. It.” He spoke with a warning before letting her neck go, standing back with his large biceps and triceps crossed over his chest.

Y/N clears her throat but her voice cracked, “TERRENCE?!!”

“Mm-mm. Louder than that.”

“TERRENCE!!!!!!”

Nothing. He was toying with her. Making her yell his name like he would come to the rescue. He was reminding her that she was trapped and the loud music and partying from outside muffled her yells. Y/N was vanquished. Vanquished by the one man she despised.

“Say, Terrence, help me! Help me please!” Erik smirks deviously.

“T-TERRENCE! HE-HELP ME! PLEASE HE-HELP ME!” She felt like an idiot.

Erik presses his ear to the door, “Hmm, no sign of him. I wonder why?” He asked with faux curiosity.

“Because he’s outside, and it’s loud, Erik,” Y/N glares at him.

“Exactly. Good girl...that’s my baby,” Erik jiggles the doorknob, “I peeped that Tommie locks the closet form the outside. No wonder, look at the shit she has in here,” Y/N entertained Erik, looking around on the shelves and the floor. Nothing but boxes filled with home movies, a folded up camcorder, sex toys for men and women, a blow-up doll deflated in the corner, and BDSM toys.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I introduced the homie DJ to this? I’m the one that suggested he spice up sex with Tommie by making her his little slut. It seems like it worked. Don’t you agree Lil’ mama?”

Y/N didn’t respond. She was having flashbacks to how her closet used to look. Exactly like this minus the blow-up doll. Erik purchased her own collection so he wouldn’t have to bring his own from his place. The movies and the camcorder really struck a nerve. All the movies they made, especially Erik’s favorite that involved her first time as his sub, 

Daddy! oh! Daddy! I can’t believe I’m cumming!

Daddy, it’s so big in my little bad girl pussy!

MMM! Yes, Daddy! I’m a little slut! I’m your nasty little slut!

I love sucking your fat dick, Daddy...

It played in her mind. All the sex. All the role play. She couldn’t wipe it out. It was as if someone opened her brain to re-file all her memories of her Daddy, her Sir. To her disappointment, Y/N could feel her pussy growing warm and wet.

“Now, what smart shit do you have to say now?”

“N-nothing,” Y/N slid down the wall and to the floor, “I don’t have anything to say.”

“I know you don’t. Cuz you know if you keep talking I’m gonna pop that ass real good, right?”

Y/N glares at Erik, “Yes.”

“Terrence just let you walk all over him, doesn’t he? That nigga ain’t Daddy don’t make his head swell with false promises, Pinky.”

“STOP calling me that. My hair isn’t even pink anymore. And I’m not your little porn star-“

“You still are. You wanna see something?”

“See WHAT?” Y/N glanced at Erik’s trunks.

“See what will make you remember how much of a porn star you really are for me.”

“I-No, Erik, I don’t,” Y/N’s eyes disobeyed her by looking at his crotch again.

“You do, and you will,” Erik didn’t need to do much, he simply takes his thumbs, hooking them in the waistband of his trunks, and pulling them down so they could cascade around his ankles. His dick was moist from his wet trunks but it still hung heavy like Y/N remembered. Still just as thick and beautiful. Terrence has a little dick compared to Erik’s. That was the dick that made her cum multiple times in one session. That was the dick she would wake up to in her mouth or wait for on her knees at her door when he said he was about to pull up. The dick she would gladly go limp for. The dick that turned her into the best slut. Her Daddy’s dick.

“This is what you still do to me. Still don’t want it?” Erik moves his hips making his dick bounce and twirl.

“Uh-huh,” Y/N spoke with an unsure voice.

“Speak into the mic, Pinky,” Erik jokes, laughing and making Y/N suck her teeth. Erik moves closer to her, his moisturized dick hitting her in the cheek. Y/N reaches out to slap it away but it was like an iron rod; rigid and stiff. Her clit jumped and her pussy squeezed around nothing.

“Go ahead, take all that anger and frustration towards me out on this fat dick.” Y/N could hear him jerking his dick, “Stop playing and suck Daddy’s dick.”

“Fuck,” Y/N whimpers, “I’m so fucking mad at you! I can’t believe I wanna suck your dick right now!”

“I can,” Erik taps his dick on her lip, “Let’s go, mamas.”

“Terrence...he’s-“

“Oh yeah,” Erik crouched down to grab his trunks, pulling out Y/N’s phone, “FaceTime him so he can watch you suck on this dick.”

“ERIK! Nooooo,” Y/N pleaded, “No, I don’t wanna do that to him-“

“I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT NIGGA,” Erik shoves her phone in her face, “Call that wack nigga right now, or I will.”

“Please,” She was on her knees, eyes watering, “Please, pleaseeeeee I don’t want him to know-“

“Then you’re not Pinky no more. The Pinky I remember used to suck my dick under the table at the restaurant or at the club in VIP. That’s the Pinky I remember. He messed you up, girl,” Erik presses her phone against her cheek, “Call him right now, hear me, girl?”

“UGH, OKAYYYYYYY!” Y/N snatched her phone away, earning her hair getting pulled

“Fuck is wrong with you?!!! I am so disappointed,” He had a mug on his face that scared Y/N, “I got something for you...wait till his face pop up...watch.”

Y/N’s teary eyes looked down at the FaceTime call. It rang twice before Terrence popped up, drunk with another drink in his hand. He was currently waiting to get a tattoo done since the tattoo man and his crew showed up.

“Hey, baby! I thought you said you were coming down?! The tattoo man here! I’m thinking about getting your name.”

“Oh, he’s a quick one,” Erik joked.

“Who is that? And why are you crying, love?”

Y/N’s lip trembled while Erik softly ran his fingers through her hair.

“Are you in a closet? What the fuck is going on with you?” Terrence looked like he was coming to his senses.

“B-Baby, I-I’m sorry. Just break up with me, okay? I-I’m about to do something very bad and-“

“Erik pulls her hair with a warning.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Y/N turned towards Erik on her knees, making sure Terrence could see what she was doing. Her hand wraps around Erik’s girthy meat, shuddering breaths escaping her mouth before her lips pulled him in snugly. She instantly remembered the taste. She hadn’t sucked a dick this big in months so she wasn’t used to the filling her mouth received. Erik could be seen smiling smugly down into the phone while his balls dangled and Y/N’s tight plump lips went back and forth over his dick.

“Y/N!!!!!!!! What the fuck?!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!!!! You cheating ass bitch!!!!” Terrence gawked at her while she sucked, looking from that phone with her pretty mocha eyes shining with tears and up to stare at Erik. She felt so guilty but having Erik’s dick in her mouth again brought back the good times when she used to suck on her Daddy.

“YEAH! WE ARE DONE! hoe ass bitch.”

He ended the FaceTime.

“Good girl,” Erik fucked her mouth, “That’s my good girl, my good little slut.”

Y/N sucked him while he gave her the dick.

“Now, who is the cheater? You just FaceTimed your boyfriend while sucking your ex’s dick. Shame on you,” Erik made Y/N gag, “On your knees in the closet while sucking me. So nasty, baby, yes, such a slut. Aren’t you a slut?”

Y/N nods her head.

“Good girl, who’s a slut?”

“Me-”

“And who’s slut are you?”

Erik pulls his dick from Y/N’s mouth, “Your slut.”

“Mhm, and who do you answer to?”

“Y-you, Daddy,” Y/N’s eyes were puffy, nose running, mouth drooling.

“Exactly. Now suck my fucking dick like you’re supposed to, slut.”

Y/N went back to pleasing Erik, sucking on him to make up for the lost time. She had to show him that she still had the title for the best dick sucker. Like she didn’t go on a hiatus, her jaws went tight and her throat became a never-ending fuck hole for Erik’s thick slab of meat.

“Why don’t you grab my nuts and play with those too. Don’t leave them hanging, baby. Take all of me.”

Y/N obeyed his command, grabbing Erik’s fat sack with her hands. She massages them, her lips on the tip of his dick now trying to ring him dry.

“That’s it, get it, mamas, yesssss, Mhm, just like before, uh-huh,” Erik’s eyes fluttered, “Fuck, you know how to please me. It was fate having you here. Now, ain’t no running away from me.”

“Mmm-“

“You’re here to stay. Fucking leave me again if you want.”

Y/N could feel Erik’s dick swelling in her mouth. Her plump lips felt sore from stretching them around his dick. 

“Suck that dick for Daddy, a true dick sucker, dump all this cum in your mouth, and you better swallow.”

“mmmm,” Y/N blinked her eyes up at him. She couldn’t do much but mumble.

“Goddamn, what a mouth on you, I trained you so well to deep throat big dicks and you can take the whole damn thing, Daddy loves to fuck your pretty little mouth-”

When Y/N smiled at him with a mouth full of dick Erik erupted in her mouth and Y/N’s pussy got so wet it was dripping on the carpet in the closet. Her submissive throat happily swallowed all of his cum. 

“Slut,” Erik smiled at her.

Y/N pops her mouth off, wiping her chin with the back of her had while trying to catch her breath. There was no going back, she already did what she said she wouldn’t do. Y/N could see Ivory now pointing a finger at her while laughing hysterically. She was on her knees for Erik just like she said she would be. 

“Stand up!” Erik startled her with his booming voice, “Put your leg up on that shelf, let me see that Lil sexy pussy that I haven’t had in months-”

“It’s your own fault, Daddy-”

WHACK!

Erik struck Y/N’s ass painfully before cuffing it so hard his nails sank into her skin. 

“Keep talking back. Keep running your fucking mouth,” WHACK! “Put that goddamn leg up like I said.”

Y/N brought her leg up to one of Tommie’s shelves, adjusting her balance.

“Pull that juicy cheek open so I can see my meal.”

Y/N pulls her left cheek open, revealing her wet, creamy pussy to Erik’s hungry eyes and drooling mouth. 

“Fuck yes. Need some pussy on my tongue like yesterday.”

Erik got down on his knees in the cramped closet, helping Y/N by holding her cheeks wider before his entire mouth gave Y/N one big kiss with a whole lot of tongue and suction. 

“Feed me,” Erik commands, Y/N opening her legs further for Erik to devour her pussy. She moaned sharply, gasps escaping her mouth in a desperate rhythm. His tongue dragged from her tight hole all the way up to her clit. Air was forced from her lungs in agonized gasps. Over and over he dragged his tongue along her engorged folds. Her thighs shook and she could feel her foot slipping from the shelf. Erik held her thigh up further so he could lap her kitty and give it sweet kisses. She could feel herself beginning to squirt because of a little of the clear liquid dripping from her. Erik tasted that, taking his tongue to roll over her clit before he brought his lips together to suck.

“Uhhhhh! Uuuuuuuh!” Y/N sucked in a quick breath, ready to explode but Erik stops. 

Y/N grabs the back of Erik’s head, bringing him closer to her pussy, “Daddy-”

“Don’t fucking touch me before I spank you again. You don’t deserve to cum in Daddy’s mouth. No matter how much I want that sweet pussy in my mouth I gotta discipline you.”

“Pleaseeeee,” Y/N wanted to cry. She was so close. Her cum was about to glaze his fucking face. 

“Nah, fix your bikini and pick up your phone to call Tommie so she can come open this closet.”

“Erik,” Y/N tried to sweet-talk him but he was busy pulling up his trunks. She rolls her eyes, Picking up her phone from the floor, unlocking it, and dialing Tommie’s number. It rang four times and she didn’t answer.

“She’s not answering, see,” Y/N shows Erik her phone. He looked at it nonchalantly.

“Dial it again that girl stays having her phone in her hand-”

“You can finish eating my pussy for me,” Y/N bends over as far as she could go, spreading her cheeks, showing Erik that sad little pussy that needed to be licked up, “See, Daddy? Daddy, please?”

“Get the fuck up.” Erik pulled her up by her arm, “Now dial her fucking number like I said.”

Y/N whimpers, stomping her foot, dialing Tommie again and hoping she wouldn't pick up. To Y/N’s disappointment, Tommie picks up, her voice loudly speaking into the phone because of the music.

“Y/N?! WHERE ARE YOU? TERRENCE STORMED OUT OF HERE.”

“Tommie! can you come to your room, please?!!! I’m locked in your closet!”

“WHAT? WHY?-”

“Just hurry, please??!!!!”

“AIGHT HERE I COME.”

The line ended.

Y/N looked over at a fully clothed Erik, spotting his wet beard and lower lip.

“Uh, Daddy,” Y/N pointed to his chin, “You still have my pussy juices on your face.”

“I know,” Erik looks her up and down,” I'm gon’ keep it there too-”

Tommie opened the door, hazel eyes growing wide and mouth hanging open.

“Oh! this what you were doing, huh?!” She laughs, “Y'all are wild! no wonder why Terrence left ready to cry!”

Y/N stormed out of the bedroom.

“Erik,” Tommie scolded, “Don’t fuck with my girl like that-”

“Mind your business, Tommie,” Erik playfully mushed Tommie before leaving the bedroom as well.

_________________

Y/N relaxed on a floaty in the pool, staring up at the starry sky. She didn’t care that the people around her splashed water or bumped into the floaty. She needed to reflect on what she just did. Erik was currently in the house getting a tattoo of a scorpion with the year 1986 on the back of his left arm. His session would probably take another hour. Y/N wanted to get a tattoo of a crescent moon on the side of her left breast but she felt that if she sat in there near Erik, she would act like even more of a brat. He didn’t deserve to deprive her, she deserved to deprive him. He cheated on her for some other bitch. He should be begging her but Y/N didn’t have it in her to do it. She wanted Erik to control her. 

“Sup, ma?”

Y/N looks down in the pool, her eyes connecting with a guy who looked Ethiopian, thick coily hair wet and dripping onto his forehead. He has full lips with facial hair that didn’t connect, eyes a cinnamon color and a skin smooth and caramel.

“Hello,” Y/N spoke dryly.

“Can I keep you company? I know your man stormed out of here crying about you. You really pissed him off, huh?”

“Do you need anything?” Y/N asked with annoyance.

“Your number if that’s cool,” He tried to put on a smooth voice but it didn’t work, “You look so gloomy with your pretty self.”

“How about you get me a drink,” Y/N needed one.

“I can do that.”

“What’s your name?”

“Aman,” He held out his hand to her, “You?”

“Y/N.” She shook his wet hand.

____________________________

“All finished, bro.”

Erik looked at his tattoo in the mirror that was given to him. He was a great tattoo artist. Erik paid him extra, thanking him again after getting it covered up with ointment, before walking away to let the next person have a turn. He needed to get more liquor before the good shit was gone. Heading back outside, Erik spots a group of people huddled around the pool lounge area, shouting and laughing. He walks over and the closer he got, he notices Y/N standing up, removing her swimsuit top, big beautiful, hefty breasts with large chocolate areolas and nipples free for everyone to see. She had everyone gawking at her before she took off running around the pool, breasts rebounding and swaying. She ran past Erik, almost slipping, before making it back to the group that cheered her on like she won a contest. She immediately picked up her bikini top, Tommie tying it back in place for her. Erik crushed the red solo cup in his hand, the ice falling out and landing on his bare toes. He tossed the cup down, squaring his shoulders before walking up to the group. All the dudes over there were looking at her savagely, dicks probably hard as a cement block in their wet trunks. One dude in particular that Erik recognized to be Aman was whispering in her ear, probably telling her how much he would love to suck on those big ass titties all night long; like a damn baby.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!” Ivory spoke with shock, “Okay, your turn Aman.”

Y/N turned to him, Her legs awfully close and her lips just as close as she whispered in his ear, “Truth or Dare.”

“Dare,” Aman spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Erik crossed his arms over his chest, eyes low and predatory. 

“I dare you to...take a shot off me!”

“Teh, easy.”

Y/N giggled drunkenly, “Let’s see then.”

Someone passed Aman a shot of tequila while Y/N laid back over his lap. Ivory sprinkled some sugar around her navel and squeezed a bit of lemon juice. Aman poured some of the tequila between Y/N’s breasts, watching it drip down. He quickly traced the wet trail with his tongue before licking around her navel to get all the sugar, dipping his tongue in her belly button to get the lemon juice. Everybody shouted, cheering Aman on while Y/N giggled. Erik saw red. He bumped roughly past a few people before pulling Y/N off of Aman, throwing her over his shoulder. Everyone watched stunned as Erik spanked Y/N.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!!!!!!!” Erik barked out in a gruff tone with clenched teeth, “You really enjoy pissing me off I can see that now! WHY ARE YOU LETTING SOME NIGGA LICK ALL OVER YOU-”

“Because I can!” Y/N slaps his back, “Get your hands off me, you don’t own me. Go find that bitch you cheated on me with and fuck her!”

“Let’s go,” Erik heard enough. He stormed away, Y/N kicking and screaming over his shoulder. 

Inside, Erik damn near ran up the stairs with her, finding a guest bedroom, tossing her on the bed, and slamming the door shut. Y/N got off the bed, falling to the floor because she was a little drunk. She laughs, flat out hysterical like a hyena. 

“Get the fuck up,” Erik spoke while shaking his head, “Can’t even hold your damn liquor-”

“Fuck you, yes I can, dumb-dumb,” Y/N got up, stretching out on the bed, “You just ruined my night yet again. I was having fun.”

“Thanks to you, Aman gotta die,” Erik walked over to Y/N slowly, “And as for you, I gotta punish you.”

“You already punished me. You owe me an apology,” Y/N sat up, “Apologize to me for cheating on me. Get on your knees and say how much of a sorry piece of shit you are.”

“Y/N,” Erik pinches the bridge of his nose, “Aight, look...I am sorry. I am so so so so fucking sorry for cheating on you like that and not giving a fuck. I truly apologize. If you wanna hit me, fucking hit me. Do what you gotta do, ma, but I’m not going nowhere. I promise you that. I miss you. You got me hot right now but I miss everything about you, girl. Come on, hit me. After this, you won’t get another chance, baby girl.”

Y/N looked at Erik like he has two heads and four legs.

“Did you hear me?! come on,” Erik held his arms out, “Hit me.”

Y/N got off the bed, walking over towards Erik timidly. She stood before him, looking up at him with low eyes, frizzy curly hair, and no balance what so ever. Erik still has his arms out, ready to take whatever Y/N dished out.

“Y/N-”

SLAP!

Erik’s jaw felt like it disconnected from his face. Y/N put a lot of force into that hit. She gasps, covering her mouth before giggling. 

“Girl-”

SLAP!

She breathed a breath of relief.

“That felt...so good,” Y/N beamed up at him, “Gosh, you don’t know how much I wanted to do that.”

Y/N could see her handprints on Erik’s face. He just looked at her while rubbing his left cheek, a smile slowly creeping up.

“You got hands, girl.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

“I deserved that,” Erik looks down at Y/N’s breasts, “But you dead wrong for showing your titties.”

“It was fun. I’ve never done that before,” Her eyes went down to stare at his crotch that was indeed tented in the front. Those hits turned him on.

“Consider that your last time,” Erik grabs his jaw to flex it before he presses his chest against hers, moving her back towards the bed, “Now take this bikini top off so I can titty fuck you until I bust on your chin.”

Y/N lays back on the bed, removing her bikini top, her heavy titties spilling out. She squeezes them together before twirling her nipples. Erik stood between her legs, pulling his trunks down and stepping out of them. His thick veiny dick stood at attention and bounced up and down as he got onto the bed to straddle her waist. Y/N grabs Erik’s dick, looking up at him with low eyes while he spits on his dick multiple times. Y/N rubbed it in, bringing his dick between her breasts before squeezing it with her copious flesh. Erik started moving his hips, his spit covered dick making squelching noises like he was in Y/N’s pussy.

“That chin is a good place for me to nut on, right, baby girl?”

“Umph, yes. Uhh, my pussy just jumped at that.”

“Good girl,” Erik grunts, “Lick the tip of my dick.”

Y/N flicks her tongue on Erik’s dick while he increased the speed of his hips, Y/N’s body moving back and forth across the bed.

“Fucking sexy,” Erik squeezed her tits more, “Fuck, these big ass titties so tight on my dick.”

“Daddy, please fuck my titties, please cum on my face,” Y/N leans forward to suck on the tip of his dick, “Yes, please, Daddy!”

Erik spits some more, His movements more erratic. Y/N held her mouth open with her tongue hanging out so the tip of Erik’s dick could rub against it. 

“Titties feel so soft and good, girl,” Erik moans, “You like it when Daddy titty fuck you, baby?”

“Yes!” 

“Hmph, fuck!” Erik’s creamy and warm cum landed on Y/N’s chin and lips. Her head came forward, nose a target now and a little on her eyelashes on the left side. She couldn’t believe how much cum came out. 

“goddayum!” Erik removed his dick from between her breasts, grabbing it at the base to slap her nipples with it.

“Can I feel your dick in my pussy now?” Y/N turned around, Arching her back deeply, “I want my pussy fucked so bad right now-”

“Oh, you want a proper workout, huh?” Erik crawled behind her, smacking her clit with his dick, “Thick as fuck. You want me all in that phat silky pussy?”

“Umph, Yes!” Y/N pops her pussy back on Erik’s dick, “Daddy give it to me-”

“Bounce that ass back on me,” Erik thrust forward inside of her, shallow grunts escaping his mouth. He really missed how tight and wet she is, “Fuck this fat dick-”

“Like this, Daddy?” Y/N sat up on her elbows to look back at him with her cum stained face, “Right fucking there, ahhhhhhh,” Y/N threw that ass back knowing Erik would catch it, “Right here...right here...get it good, fuck, Daddy.”

“Nah, you better fuck this dick. Move that phat butt,” Erik was still on his knees watching Y/N fuck him. She spread her legs, bringing one knee to her chest, grabbing the sheets, and went to town on his fat pipe. She used all the power she has to fuck him herself. sweating and sucking air through her teeth, Y/N could feel herself squirting. Erik’s dick slips out, Y/N’s hips still moving as her pussy steadily poured until it did nothing but drip. 

“All this thickness is killing me,” Erik slaps her ass while sliding his dick back inside, “Mmm, mmm, yummy.”

Y/N could feel every stroke because she was super wet. Erik showed her no mercy on her pussy. All he wanted to do to Y/N was beat it up. He arched her again, Y/N letting out unsteady breaths.

“You feel where I’m at?” He was deep in her belly.

“In my fucking stomach, ugh,” Y/N could feel her pussy creaming all over his dick, “This is what I want. I want to be a wet mess for Daddy.”

“You knew Daddy needed this sexy pussy to fuck and fill with all this dick and cum over and over. That ass... damnnnnn,” Erik swats her ass while hammering her pussy, “Good bitch, give Daddy that pussy! Good girl, get that dick!”

short little spurts of air escaped Y/N’s lungs as she cums on Erik's dick. She couldn’t breathe. Panting and gasping, Y/N could feel Erik reach around to grab her neck with his nose in her hair. Y/N held onto his arm around her neck while Erik battered her sugar walls. Her mouth fell open, Erik’s fingers sliding inside. Y/N wasn’t in her body anymore, not even when Erik slowed it down to purposefully give her sharp and quick thrusts before stopping. Each surprise thrust made Y/N suck in a panting breath. Erik’s fat dick got even fatter, her pussy lips spreading to accommodate his rapid growth. She felt his lips sucking on her jaw, her pussy like a waterfall. 

“F-Fuckkkkkkk, oh my God, fuckkkkk, ugh, yeah, mhm,” Erik still stroked while he nuts inside of her, Take it...take it...” He whispered, “Fucking take it like I said.”

Y/N licked between Erik’s fingers, her eyes rolled back. 

“Good girl, give Daddy that pussy, bitch...let Daddy get in that pussy, slut...enjoy that dick.” Erik’s dick was squashed between her walls while he spoke in a subdued voice in her ear. Y/N melted around him, “You love letting Daddy fuck your pussy...you love having a dick in you...you be feeling so good, right?”

“Umph,” Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. That squirt made her pussy extra sensitive. Erik would not stop fucking her pussy. Her hand went back to push at his hips, Erik responding by pushing his hips in further. 

“Fuck, Daddy, you got me so weak.”

“Just cum one more time for me. You already made a big ass mess might as well give me more,” Erik spoke quietly in Y/N’s ear. 

“Fuckkkk,” Y/N’s head fell forward, “Yessssss.” She gave him one final messy release before falling flat on her belly. Erik’s dick slips out, his eyes watching all his nut fall out to add to the big puddle Y/N already made.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91​ @fish-outta-watah​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @crowngold​ @njadakillthiscookie​ @blktinkerbell​ @luvanxi​ @sheisexcellent1​ @chocolatedippedinhoney​ @brandithecrystalgem​ @dababydababydababydababy​ @soulfulbeauty19​ @btitannaaa​ @sunkissedebony97​ @youngblackndgifted​ @harleycativy​ @rbhp​ @theesotericqueen​ @thee-germanpeach​ @thadelightfulone​ @palmstreesallday​ @skylahb​ @bakaris-shorty​ @nizzle-mo​ @truglori​ @queenflaws​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @theegoldenchild​ @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @nickidub718​ @vikkidc​ @thehomierobbstark​ @rent-emspoons​ @abluesforlyssa​ @fd-writes​ @chasingsunlight​ @sickaddiktions​ @munteanhore​ @xo-goldengirl​ @tiava143​ @33kiara​ @honeytoffee​ @asiasblackworld727​ @momobaby227​ @informalmelancholy​ @soulshinechronicles​ @hearteyes-for-killmonger​ @goddessofthundathighs​

[2018shawn]

1+1 | descent | part 3

warnings: ok so, there is smut but I have begun and ended it with a ***** so you can skip if u want bc they be loving each other during this pregnancy liFE. there is mentions of blood (towards the end), drinking, swearing etc 

a/n: omg I love you all so much sorry for taking so long here are some of the requests I used to keep me going with a lil breakdown:

maybe for 1+1 there r complications with the pregnancy (nothing life threatening just a little harder or something) and shawn is super cute and protective - a little teaser, more in next chap x

Shawn would be a worrying mess throughout your pregnancy for sure🥺😂 - again, will be more in next chapter

Y/n being horny whilst being pregnant - big mood

Could you write something about Shawn and y/n going to her parent's for dinner and her mum picks on her the entire time, maybe Shawn comforts her or confronts her? - so i kinda adjusted it a bit bc I just couldn't imagine it like full on if that makes any sense but anyways ye

Shawn making sure she takes her prenatal pills and is on time for all appointments. - he would 10/10 do this I bet ur ass

Just all the fluff about pregnancy that you possible can write. I LOVE YOUR WORK💗🥰 - you are the cutest lil ANGEL I love YOU 🥺

word count: 6.5k 

previous parts: here

You never thought you’d be one of those pregnant women who obsessed over their weight and constantly observed for signs of a growing bump; but you never thought you’d get pregnant and here you are, stood in front of your mirror, almost 1/3 of the way into your pregnancy already - 10 weeks, to be exact. You were only 5 weeks pregnant when you’d visited your doctor that one day, adamant that you were going to receive bad news, only to receive the complete opposite.

As your mind wandered back to that day, 5 weeks ago, the palm of your hand caressed the bare skin of your stomach, admiring how much your body was already changing. You’d left the doctors office in a complete state of shock, insisting Dr. Blake check the test results at least 5 times before you finally nodded and accepted that you were pregnant. Shawn hadn’t stopped talking the whole day after that and found concern in you being just as quiet as what you would been if the worst had come out of that meeting. Of course it was just the shock, that your body, despite everything you’d been told, had been able to pull through and create a miracle. The fuzzy feeling of 2 day old stubble resting on your shoulder and curls tickling the side of your neck brought you back to current day, eyes wandering up from your stomach to meet the eyes of Shawn’s. His arms wrapped around your hips, covering your own as he allowed his fingers to entwine with yours. “Whatcha’ thinking ‘bout?” He asked before turning his head to place a delicate kiss in the crook of your neck.

You shivered and smiled at the ticklish sensation, a small giggle leaving your lips. “That you really need to shave your poor excuse of a beard.” His mouth opened wide, offended of the insult towards his manliness as you continued to declare your real thoughts. “Just... this. Us. I guess.” Your head fell and rested against his as he nodded, moving both of your hands to your lower stomach, where baby would soon be continuously blooming.

“You know, baby M sure has put a little glow on your skin and a wider smile on your face.” His chin was heavy on your shoulder as he spoke, but you didn’t mind, considering in a few months you’d have a baby gnawing away at your shoulder. And being sick down it. And dribbling down it. And... why do you have babies, again?

“Baby M?” You asked, eyebrows raised in admiration of the sudden new nickname who was previously known as bub.

Shawn shrugged, finally giving you some room and detaching from your frame so you could continue to go about your normal morning routine. You did so by picking up your hairbrush from the cabinet next to you, dragging in through your untamed bed head. “Yeah, i mean, bub was cute and all... but... you’re my original bub, really. And I guess the M can stand for Mendes. Or miracle. Or both?” He questioned, more than confirmed, leaving you smiling at his pointless babbles and theories. Shawn swiftly moved on to tell you he’d checked the parenting app this morning, and Baby M is now the size of a lime. He also told you that he read an article that told you eating peanuts and dairy could make the baby allergic to them in the future, but with further research he soon developed it was nothing but a mere myth. Most of all, whilst you were getting ready, Shawn told you how lucky he feels to have you and how much he loves you.

You turned to the side one final time before you left the mirror, hands coming back to the small bump across your stomach. Shawn walked back into the room, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and towel hung from his hips, rolling his eyes as you studied yourself yet again. “Bub, stop it.” He somewhat spoke, through minty bubbles and white paste.

“Am I...” You started, alternating between pinching the skin and caressing it with the palm of your hand. “Am I getting fat?”

Shawn almost spat his mouth care out, the brushing of his teeth coming to a stop as he stared at you, astonished by your brief question. “You’re not fat...” He held his finger up as he darted back into the en suite where you heard the running of water and him finishing his process. The water shut off and you could hear him grab the towel from the rail, presumably to wipe his face, considering he had white suds dripping down his chin. “...You’re pregnant”

He reappeared in the room, walking over and snaking his arms round your waist. “So i’m fat then?” You laughed, giving up your touch on your stomach to reach up and rest your arms atop his shoulders.

All he could do was chuckle, never having heard anything so absurd. You’d never be fat, but you’d always be beautiful. “You’re a baby maker, he gotta grow somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, tip toeing upwards and pressing your lips to his to be greeted with the fresh mint taste you anticipated. “She.”

Humming into your touch in return, his fingers danced through your freshly brushed hair as he was pulled into your body, “your mom...” you started, giggling as he pulled away and shot you a confused glance.

“Why are you thinking of my mom while i’m tryna make out with you?”

“I’m thinking of your dad too.” You smirked, only trying to wind him up further.

“Ok, weird, stop...” He shuddered, screwing his face up in further confusion and disapproval. He searched your face for an answer, but you merely shrugged and walked away, pulling out your favourite shirt from the wardrobe and bringing it over your arms, you let it fall over your body.

Two overnight bags lay on the bed, only a few items thrown into them so far for your weekend trip to Shawn’s family home. “Do you wanna tell them tonight?” You asked, picking a couple more shirts from the wardrobes and finally some pants that would match.

He watched as you folded them delicately into your bag, “do you? I mean, it’s your body, it’s your choice.” It was killing Shawn alive to keep this from his parents, and more so Aaliyah, but with all the bad luck you’d had, you were sceptical of jinxing the situation. You thought it was most probably a myth, that telling people you were pregnant before the end of a certain trimester could cause bad luck, but it was a risk you wasn’t willing to take.

“It’s our choice,” you confirmed, walking back over to the wardrobe and pulling out a couple of t-shirts for Shawn and holding them up for his approval. With a nod, you threw them in his direction, and he attempted to fold them into his bag, not half as neatly as you had done. “I just know it’s killing you. And besides it’s nearly the end of my first trimester and it is your mom’s birthday...”

You held up a shirt, one you absolutely loved seeing Shawn in, but he screwed up his face and shook his head, so you put it back on the rail. “No pressure, we tell them when you’re ready.” You walked over with another shirt you’d picked for him, shaking your head at Shawn’s third attempt of folding his clothing. You remembered how after your third date, he brought you to his place for a drink and you saw how chaotically organised his suitcase was packed for going on tour. With a bottle of wine and some packing tips later, you both ended up falling asleep in his spare bedroom, organised piles of clothes all around you.

The more the hours in the day went by, the more you chewed your inner cheek in anxiousness. Driving to Shawns parent’s house felt like a lifetime but he silently tried to comfort you by holding your thigh as he drove. You didn’t know if you were going to tell them, you didn’t even know if you wanted to and you sighed at yourself again for letting it play over and over in your mind. “Bub?” Shawn squeezed your thigh and pulled you from your daydream, looking over at you as you came up to a red light.

“Mmhmm?” You didn’t know if Shawn could read your mind, as you thought about all the nice ways you’d seen over the internet of how people tell their parents they’re going to be nana and grandads. Here you were, thinking of ways to not tell them.

“Stop worrying about it, if we tell them, we tell them. If we don’t, we don’t.” You nodded, although you both knew it wouldn’t be the end of your concerns.

A few red lights later and a slow drive down the quiet lane, you’d reached the Mendes family house, heart warming as Aaliyah flung the door open and immediately ran to the car. Shawn had the best relationship with his sister and it gave you no doubt in your mind that he was going to be the best dad in the world. It was getting late, the traffic taking a toll on your arrival time and the party was already in full swing. Karen appeared in the door, two glasses of wine in hand and a beaming smile on her features. “Hello, my beautiful family,” she theatrically exclaimed, pulling you in for a huge hug as you both reached the doorway with Shawn holding both of your overnight bags and almost knocking the wine from her hands.

“Mom are you drunk already?” Shawn laughed, eyeing the 2 glasses of wine tight in her grip and watching how she stumbled down one of the steps and pushed her cheek outwards, inviting a kiss from Shawn.

“What? No! I’ve only had 1 glass..” She nodded, handing you one of the glasses and you politely smiled, thanking her. She whispered to you as Shawn walked into the house and he disappeared out of view, instantly getting lost in the music and big crowd of people. “I’ve had 3...” she giggled, pulling you inside as the two of you began to engage in conversation.

The party in full swing, Shawn had drunk your - 2 glasses of - wine when no one was looking with Karen handing you another glass which you’d had in your hand for at least 45 minutes when she walked over to bring you another. “Oh?” She questioned, looking at your still full glass as you stood with Shawn and his old family friends. “You love wine, why aren’t you drinking!”

You smiled and eyed Shawn, who instantly shot to your defence. “Mom, she’s not an alcoholic,” he said, and you all laughed it off, but as Karen stood with you and insisted you drank some of it with her, your heart beat out your chest and feet shuffled uncomfortably beneath you. “Mom... she doesn’t want to drink the wine.” Shawn said, pulling it out of your hand and putting it onto the side.

“Don’t speak for her, we’ve seen a fair few wine-drunk y/n’s in her time!” If that’s how she saw you, she most definitely wouldn’t think you’re fit to be a parent. She knew you and Shawn were trying, sure, but the more you thought about it, the more you’d actually never heard her say anything positive about it. Maybe catching Shawn arguing with her on the phone six or so months ago was about this. About you. About your inability to succeed in adult life.

Before anyone could blink, tense atmosphere filling the air between the small crowd as the rest of the unaware house guests continued to party, you darted up the stairs, rushing to the bathroom. Curled over the toilet and stomach tensing tightly, you were yet again reminded that morning sickness was not just for the mornings. Shawn was quick behind you, stroking your back like he always did and offering you a bottle of water he’d managed to grab en route to your side.

Once you felt it was out of your system, you leaned back, your bum sitting against the backs of your ankles as you shakily took the water from Shawn. “I’m sorry about my mom.”

“It’s okay,” you stopped to take another sip, the cold water relieving your dry mouth and the horrible taste that covered it, “I just don’t want her to see me as that person. It makes me feel like she thinks i’m going to be a bad mom...”

“You’re going to be a mom?!” A voice much higher than Shawn’s interrupted, both yours and Shawn’s head flying round to the door where Aaliyah could be seen in the crack.

“‘Liyah, what the fuck!” Shawn screamed, his younger sister repeatedly apologising, only insisting she came to see if you were okay.

Karen appeared in the doorway and once pushed further open, so did Manny, which only made you feel like a pathetic fool as the Mendes clan bickered around you. Shawn was shouting at Aaliyah for having no personal boundaries, whilst Aaliyah screamed back at him for leaving the door open in the first place, whilst Manny shouted at them both for shouting at each other, all whilst Karen ignored the trio and came down to your level, wiping the run mascara that surrounded your eyes. It was a scene from a comedy movie, two young adults fighting ridiculously, the father rolling his eyes at them both and unable to control their anger, and the mother identifying the source of the problem, which just so happened to be you. “Honey, i’m sorry if i upset you, so so sorry.”

“Karen, it’s okay, it’s not you.” You smiled, somewhat meaning it. It was you, really, your hormones were wild and emotions all over the place and boy, didn’t you know about it recently.

“It is, Manny always jokes i’m a cow when i’ve had some wine.”

Shawn stretched his hand out, offering it for you to take so he could help you up from the floor. Once you were straightened up, he repeated the offering to his mother, laughing at her as she stumbled due to the wine still flowing through her body. “Can we just all go back to normal?” Manny suggested, and Karen nodded having no idea what the meeting was about in the first place.

“Normal?! I can’t go back to normal when I just heard that y/n and Shawn are gonna be...” Shawn shot her a look, threatening his younger sibling without words but for once, you didn’t care that she was rambling, that she was going to spill, because that would take the weight off you.

Bickering yet again, the parents tried to speak over their supposedly grown up and adult children, “can someone please just tell us what is going on?!”

You sighed, knowing there was only one way out of this bathroom that would involve everyone making friends and getting along as normal. So when Aaliyah and Shawn simply returned to debating who was the right and wrong sibling, you cleared your throat and exclaimed with laughter, “oh my god!”

“I know! I don’t know how you live with this dumbass, and put with him and-”

Shaking you head and interrupting Aaliyah, who continued to torture her brother, you exclaimed to everyone in the room, all of them turning to face you at the most wonderful confession, “i’m pregnant!”

Another two weeks had flown by, the news of your pregnancy spreading far and wide and unintentionally - you broke instagram. Well, not specifically you, nor Shawn, but all the fans that were greeted with the news on the Saturday evening. The same saturday evening you were sat in Connor’s dining room, enjoying your elderflower presse whilst everyone else devoured the beer and wine. Shawn sipped his like he was 15 and was about to get busted by his mom and dad, despite you telling him to enjoy and drink enough for the both of you.

Mila had decided, that now she was turning 25 she should ditch the clubbing scene and opt for a sophisticated dinner party with her closest and dearest. Sophisticated it was not, jokes and tales getting spilt around the table like a bunch of teenagers playing never have I ever. “Man, that holiday, I swear Shawn and y/n did it, like, six times in one day!” Brain laughed, washing his claim down with another gulp of beer. You laughed and Shawn shouted, defending the two of you with everything he had left in him.

“Making a baby is harder than it seems in the movies!” He confessed, pushing his own beer away from him, not really interested in any form of alcoholic beverage, but more so in staying sensible for you.

Your hand fell under the table, reaching across just slightly to rest on his thigh. His body instantly stilled, bottom lip taken captive in between his teeth at your simple touch. Shawn was a sucker for secret public displays of affection, and of course, you knew that. More than ever, 12 weeks into your pregnancy and coming up the end of your first trimester, all you wanted to do was... well... Shawn.

The theory of your sex drive either noticeably increasing or decreasing during pregnancy was one of the many things you’d read in books and articles but was yet to experience it yourself. Up until this past week, where it severely peaked. Shawn had woken up twice with your body straddling his and lips peppering kisses down his body, until they reached a certain morning perkiness. He had payed you back just once, making himself late for a meeting to which of course he had absolutely no regrets.

The two of you were already significantly late to tonight’s party, hair slightly dishevelled and Shawn’s shirt more creased than first intended. You’d practically pinned him down with no other option than to satisfy your needs. He played on the fact you both shouldn’t have been late, but he was more than happy to skip the starter and have you instead.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as your hand cupped him through the material of his pants and you smirked as you felt it harden immediately. Leaning over and brushing against your ear as everyone else carried on their conversations, he whispered. “We’ll get going soon.” His arm fell to rest on the back of your chair, wrapping around your body as you moved into him, both of your chairs unable to be any closer. Brian commented on how sick it made him feel that two people could be so in love, but Mila shouted in your defence, telling him it was sweet.

Whilst continuous stories jumped from person to person, your hand remained in Shawn’s lap, brushing over her sensitive and needy covered cock every so often which only made him shift in his seat. “Meet me upstairs.” You whispered, standing up from your chair and placing your napkin on the table. Putting on your best queezy smile and letting your hand fall to your stomach, you spoke to the group. “Excuse me, guys, I’m just gonna have minute.”

No further questions were asked as you headed out of the room, making sure to smirk at Shawn one final time before you left completely. He gave it a couple of minutes, and he was about to excuse himself, when Mila asked if him if she should go check on you. “No, sit down birthday girl, I’ve got this. I’ve seen enough pregnancy sickness to last me a lifetime.” He joked as he scrapped his chair from under the table, hoping the hardness in his pants had died down in fear of giving away their secret bathroom date.

At the top of the stairs, in the room to the right, you touched up your lipstick and pushed your make up brush into your skin with a dabbing motion to blot away any oils. The door creaked open and you smiled as your curly haired boy appeared, grinning back as he shut the door behind him, of course making sure to switch the lock. “What’s gotten into you?” He raised his eyebrows as he walked over to you, hands finding your waist as you stared at you both in the mirror. Even when you’re in heels, he was notably taller than you, but he appreciated how he didn’t have to bend down as far to leave soft kisses on your skin. Your slinky dress was a thin material, spaghetti straps only just covering a tiny fraction of your shoulders and ending just above your knees further down your body.

There was nothing bad that Shawn thought about the sudden spike in your sex drive, he was still the 20 something year old guy who fancied the fuck out of his wife and he’d be crazy to turn her away and deny her of her pregnancy needs, right?

“Hopefully you.” You purred, trying to sound seductive but following it up with a laugh that most definitely made it more comical. Shawn never laughed though, as he dotted his lips across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand and moving it out his loving path. *****A groan left your mouth and said hand came up to cover it, making you bite your lip to muffle your approving sounds. His ivory shirt was tight against his arms as he reached up and covered your lips with his large fingers and you adored how he flexed underneath it with each movement. You wriggled your ass playfully, nudging it backwards pushing your palms against the counter surface to steady yourself. His lips never left your skin as his hips pushed into you, covered areas causing a sexual friction that filled the room. If he wasn’t hard before, he most definitely was now.

One hand loosened on your mouth, allowing you to breathe heavily as you tried your best to stifle your moans. The other worked down your body, smoothing down the soft material of your dress until he reached the bottom hem. He made sure to connect his hands with your skin, pulling the dress up with his movement as he palmed back up your leg, stopping when he reached the curve of your ass that was barely covered by the most pathetic set of underwear he’d ever laid eyes on.

You let a moan slip as he grabbed a handful of you firmly, making you smirk beneath your bitten bottom lip. “Shh.” he hummed into your neck, eyes coming up only slightly to watch you in the mirror, admiring how your head was thrown back against him and neck begging to be taken by his hand.

Nodding clumsily, he continued to hike up your dress, letting it gather at your hips and he finally detached from your skin. He leant back, making sure he was still pushed against you and trapping your body in between his and the counter. You were bent slightly forward, back softly arched and hips writhing in an attempt to feel something against your aching core. He didn’t bother to stop you, only quickly reaching down to fiddle with the buckle of his belt and buttons, allowing his pants to fall down his legs. He left his boxers, for now, and returned to palming the skin of your derrière with eagerness. Squatting down, he came face to face with the asset he’d been focusing his hands on, slapping the inside of your thighs as instruction to widen them. Happily obliging, your heels clicked against the floor as you did so, hands no longer resting on the countertop but more so gripping it as you felt his breathe edge closer to your centre.

Your underwear, or lack of, was tugged down your legs and he helped you to lift each ankle as he pulled it over your heels, supporting your body and holding your weight. He scrunched them up and found the pocket of his pants, shoving them in as a personal souvenir. Just as you were about to moan at him for taking his time, his two middle fingers traced down your folds, a squeal echoing through your closed mouth as you tried to contain yourself. He stroked delicately, nudging your clit every other time until he was happy he’d spread your pre juices enough. And when he was happy, his fingers slid into you effortlessly, grabbing himself as they disappeared into you. He couldn’t bare the ache in his fully hardened length, wanting so desperately to skip the pleasantries and slip straight into taking you from behind. Sitting down, instead of awkwardly squatting beneath you, he also switched direction, so he snaked beneath your legs and his back rested against the counter you was facing. His hands reached around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face without warning. Your desperate core brushed against his lips, hands tightening around the sink with white knuckles at the intimate contact.

It took everything in your to not scream out in pleasure. No amount of intimacy in your own home compared to sneaking away from a party and doing the dirty, much like you used to do in the past and you were forever grateful the spark had never died. You were thankful for his strong grip on the back of your thighs, legs shaking as his tongue caressed your folds from underneath you. He wanted to be beneath you forever, to have you squirming and panting just as you were in this moment. He’d never intended for it to be this... full on, when he came to find you in the bathroom. He thought it would maybe a quickie, a little tease, but something innocent and playful had turned into a lustful dream.

You braved your sudden move, removing one hand from the support of the sink and moved it down, grabbing a fistful of brown curls. The action was warmly welcomed, his tongue slipping deep into you almost causing your legs to buckle completely. The way Shawn made you feel, this far into your relationship was a feeling that could never be taken away; the way he loved you like it was the first and last time all rolled into one.

“God, I, I need you to...” you breathed, pausing and inhaling sharply when he tongue flicked over your nub, circling before he moved back to your swollen folds and your entrance “...get back up here.”

Before you could open your eyes well enough to stop seeing stars, he was back behind you, eyes full of lust and need. Your dress was still hunched around your hips, bottom half of your body bare to the air, although, not for long as shawn stepped forward and muffled his hardened area into the curve of your ass, the more prominent hardness pushing inbetween you. You moaned as the feeling of his briefs confirmed he was stilling donning his boxer shorts, desperate for the feel of skin on skin. He smirked as he pulled away, his boxers decorated with wetness that had gathered in between your legs. He also smirked when freed himself; boxers dropping to his ankles and throbbing cock bouncing free and nestling in between your legs, more specifically, between your needy centre.

Hips thrashing backwards, your peachy asset slapped against his rock-hard hips and you were taken by surprise when he grabbed tightly at your hips, stopping you from moving away. The feel of his cock rubbing through your folds caused a whimper as your eyes travelled up to look into the mirror in front of you both. His tall frame, compared to yours, which was half bent over the counter, looked heavenly as he toyed with you, rocking his hips so he rubbed against your throbbing area a few more times. When he decided he’d had enough of watching you quiver with pleasure beneath him, he reached his arm between you, wrapping fingers around his length and guiding it to your entrance.

With one swift motion, his hips fully pushed against your rear, cock sliding into you as you finally felt him fill you. Your head fell down, trying to control your rapid breathing and screams you so desperately wanted to spill, only just remembering a house full of guests were just a floor beneath you both. Shawn reached over to your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head upwards, eyes burning into you through the mirror. You bit your bottom lip, smiling underneath, as he faintly smiled back, knocking down the barrier of his serious demeanour. Suddenly you felt more than thankful for the increased sex drive, thrilled by the pleasure and view all of which started and ended with Shawn.

Loud cries were threatening to leave your lips, Shawn’s hand having to take rightful place over your mouth every so often when he heard the sweet sound of your whimpers start to fall. Although, he was not one to talk, very much lost in the moment and the fact he was fucking you in his best friends bathroom, even though it would not be the first time. His grunts grew closer together with every thrust he made, his hips slapping against you with an echo to the room. You came to your high with a fistful of your hair in his hand and teeth sunk into your bottom lip, severely struggling to keep hush. He came to his high when he moved his hand to your mouth, his fingers dancing over your lips until you wrapped your plump and - ruined - lipsticked features around them. *****

And just like that, 30 minutes after entering the bathroom, you and Shawn laughed and joked in front of the mirror you’d literally just performed sexual acts in front of. “Is baby M okay?”

“Shawn, having your penis inside me does not affect the baby.” You laughed, yet again fixing your make up having felt like you’d only just done the same task. “And anyway, apparently closer to when you’re due, having sex is actually good for the whole process.”

“Good job we’ve started early then, isn’t it?”

“We never stopped.”

A small tap on the door put a stop to your giggles, and your hand covered your mouth like a naughty school girl. “Are you two okay? I’m concerned about you and i’m worried i’ve poisoned your baby with aubergine bake.” Mila’s muffled voice spoke through the door and you felt bad for making her feel so concerned. Shawn opened the door and you sat yourself down on the closed toilet seat, quickly ripping off some toilet roll and dabbing under your eyes. You felt evil, for going along with it really, but a pregnant lady gotta do what a pregnant lady gotta do.

Mila rushed over, her palm soothing over your back in order to try and be comforting. You had to stifle a laugh as Shawn reached into his pocket and eyebrows furrowed when his fingers grabbed a delicate material that he usually wouldn’t carry around in his pocket. Pulling out just a fraction of what you believed was your underwear, your lips pulled together in a thin line as Mila babbled on about getting you home and to bed. Shawn’s right eye dropped into a wink as he walked out of the room, tucking your lacey garment back into his pocket where no one could see it. You were already thinking about getting home, and how having no underwear on would be of great, great service. Damn hormones.

It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the flowers as you opened your eyes this morning, the bright yellow petals almost blinding you as the sun crept through the blinds and reflected off them. Beneath the vase was a small cup of pills, including your folic acid that you were instructed to take during pregnancy, and a note in which you immediately recognised the hand writing. You were slightly disappointed he had to leave early this morning, the sexual drive in you still being... higher than normal, but the flowers and note made up for his lack of presence, nonetheless.

happy 19 weeks, baby m is a mango this week!

take ur meds

appointment at 1.30, will pick you up for 1 

love you :) 

Whenever Shawn left before you, he made sure to leave your meds out, usually on your dressing table but today he’d opted for the bedroom side table with his thoughtful gift. Even if he hadn’t left the house before you, he would be constantly reminding you over breakfast, bringing you a glass of water so you had something to swallow them with. The birds were chirping as you pushed your feet into your cloudy slippers, arms stretching out as you braced yourself to stand up from the bed. It was more refreshing to get out of bed when came naturally as opposed to the past few weeks, where your morning sickness had you literally creeping up to usain bolt’s world record as you ran to the toilet. The sickness had almost vanished and you read that it was normal, that it usually did disappear by the 17 week mark. In place of the morning sickness, there was pains. And aches. And twinges. And niggles. And... more pain.

Your lower stomach gurgled as a stabbing sensation shot through and you tried to stroke it in comfort, although you were nowhere close to soothing the pain. Attempting to power through the inconvenience, you decided you must just be hungry, and proceeded to walk through to the bathroom to get a shower.

Craving of ice cream for breakfast and passion fruit martini’s we’re not that uncommon to you at this stage. Of course you couldn’t act upon the martini, but ice cream aplenty, you were trying your hardest to stay away from the freezer and head to the fruit bowl in the mornings. Despite the old saying, ‘you’re eating for two’ - which, in all honesty, was one of the things you was looking forward to - your doctor informed you that no extra calories were needed for intake until possibly around 6 months in.

You’d managed to lay in until 11am this morning, a very rare occasion for you as a general early bird, leaving you a couple of hours to play with until Shawn would be back to pick you up. Those two hours flew by, almost half of it being spent by procrastinating getting ready and watching modern family instead.

When you looked out the front window, only just having put your shoes on, the time was 12.58 exactly and Shawn’s range rover began to pull down the gravelled driveway. His eyes were covered by his ray bans, curls slightly ruffled as if he’d spent his morning running his hands through them, t shirt stopping just above his biceps to reveal a handful of tattoos. The sun glistened against his skin as he stepped out the vehicle, pulling the sunglasses from his face and looking up to see you swooning down on him, sending a blush to your cheeks.

“I’d shout honey I’m home, but you already know.” He laughed as he walked through the door, throwing his sunglasses and car keys onto the side table, walking over to where you stood on the bottom step.

The bottom step gave you extra height, almost enough to be eye level with him as your arms hooked over his shoulders. “As much as i’d love to stand here and listen to your smugness, we got a baby to go see.” He pressed his lips to yours before letting you snake from underneath him, feeling cold with your lack of presence already. The pain and uncomfort in your stomach had continued all morning, but maybe it was the nerves of going to the hospital or the fact you’d rejected your body of ice cream. Shawn was immediately concerned when your let out a small whimper and squinted your eyes shut, caressing your stomach.

“Hey, what’s up?” He met back up with you, hands coming to your hips as support for your aching figure.

“I think we’re just having a bit of an off day,” you forced a smile, although you knew Shawn wouldn’t buy it.

“Well good job we have an appointment then isn’t it.” He moved forward and let his lips push against your forehead, hands never leaving your lips as he left a tender kiss. “Let’s get going.”

You nodded in agreement, stomach twisting with a mixture of nerves and pain. “I’ll just pee first,” you told before walking to the downstairs bathroom, not far from the front door where Shawn stood, twirling his keys in his hands, clearly eager to get you to the hospital.

As soon as the bathroom door shut behind you, another whimper of pain left your lips and you was glad you managed to keep it in until you were out of Shawn’s watch. He worried, a lot, but only because he cared. “Come on baby, just behave for momma,” you whispered, speaking quietly to your stomach as you shuffled over to the toilet. Hooking your fingers through the belt loops of your jeans, you tugged them down, followed by your underwear. It was a process you’d become all too familiar with, baby using your bladder as a trampoline throughout most days. This time was different; your heart dropped and eyes pricked with tears as you looked down, seeing the sight of what you hadn’t seen in quite some time. “Shawn...” you managed, only half sure he’d actually heard you.

“Babe, we’re pushing it for time, can you hurry?” You could tell he was just the other side of the wooden door, voice loud and assertive. Your hand dipped to between your legs and you winced when you were met with more of what you didn’t want.

“Can... can you come in.” you whimpered, and from the tone of your voice he knew something wasn’t right and pulled the door open without hesitation. He saw you sat on the toilet, which was nothing new, but when his eyes wandered down and he saw the blood covering your underwear and hand pulling away from in between your thighs being covered with the same dark red fluid, his heart dropped like yours had one minute prior. Although he could see what was going on, unable to move and body frozen to the floor, you confirmed the situation with two simple words, “i’m bleeding.”

shawn tag-list; @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay

[itisannak]

Pregnancy Series (Calum)

-Finding out/ Taking the test "I feel so exhausted today. And my head is killing me." I groan as I plop down on my best friend's bed. "What did you do today?" She asks me, still focused on fixing her closet. "Practically nothing other than taking Duke to the vet and then coming here." I huff, cuddling up one of her pillows. "That's weird. Is all the exhaustion of wedding planning manifesting now, or is your husband keeping you up at night?" She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me. "I don't know. But honestly, this has been going on for days." I groan and she hums. "How many days?" She asks me, sitting on the bed as well. "I don't know... 10 for sure." I state and watch her get more intrigued. "Any nausea?" She asks me and I shake my head no. "Backache, swollen breasts?" She asks again, making me knit my eyebrows together. "My breasts hurt and my bra feels tighter, why?" "I don't want to excite you but I think you need to take a test." She says, making my eyes widen. "But the doctor said it might take a while after stopping the pill... I stopped taking it a week before the wedding." I explain but she chuckles. "It's not the same for everyone. You can get pregnant right away. And you and Calum had lots of sex during your honeymoon, so if we see the facts through logic, there are possibilities you are pregnant." She explains. I stare at her shocked, sitting up on my knees. "You think I am pregnant?" I ask, almost stuttering "I don't know. I mean, you have symptoms, but the only way to know is if you take the test." She shrugs.

-Telling him I walk to our bed, slipping off my romp as I get ready for bed. "You smell so good, princess." Calum groans, scooting me close to his body as I get under the covers. "Thanks, baby." I turn my head a little, pecking on his lips slightly as I nestle up on his body. "How was your day, pretty girl? Was Dukey a good boy at the vet?" He asks, bringing his hand to stroke my hair. "Uh, he was the best boy. My day was a bit boring though. Until I went to (Y/B/F/N)'s house." I say, feeling jittery about the next part of our conversation. "Oh yeah? Did you have fun with your bestie?" He asks, leaving a kiss on my forehead. "Yeah, we talked a lot. It was fun. But I felt very tired again." I state and he sighs. "I am sorry, baby. Should we go see a doctor about it?" He asks. I take a deep breath, sitting up and moving in front of him. "We will need to. I mean, we will have to confirm it, you know." I say with a shrug. "Confirm what?" He asks, confusion written on his face. "I took a pregnancy test. And then another one. And they were both positive." I say, smiling at him. I watch his face light up, eyes sparkling with excitement. "If you are messing with me right now, I will file for a divorce." He states, making me giggle a bit. "I am 100% not kidding you. I am pregnant. I mean, I don't know for sure, but I have symptoms and I took the tests and..." He stops me by pressing his lips on mine while cupping my jaw. "We are expecting... We are expecting. Oh fuck, we are expecting..." He whispers to himself, holding me close to his body. "It's not confirmed yet, though. I still have to go to my doctor." I remind him and he sighs a bit disappointed. "But the chances are great, right?" He asks and I nod, smiling. "Then call your doctor and tell her to expect us tomorrow." He says; I swear he sounds like an impatient child who had just been told he is going to Disneyland.

-First ultrasound "Are you anxious?" Calum asks me as I get ready for my exam. "A bit. Are you?" I ask him back. "A bit. I just want to know if this is real or not." He comments, helping me get on the examination bed. He drags the chair closer to me, sighing as he sits down. "Hey, if I am not pregnant, it means that we get to have even more sex." I try to help him calm down. I earn a chuckle from him while he takes my hand in his.

The doctor walks in, smiling as she lets down the clipboard. "So, Mr. and Mrs. Hood might be expecting, huh?" She cheers for us while setting up the ultrasound machine. "Looks like it. I took 2 tests a few days ago and they were positive. And I am feeling exhausted and I think my breasts are changing..." I rumble and she smiles. "I saw that on the papers you filled in, don't worry. I will take a look at your uterus now, ok?" She asks me and I nod before she squirts the gel on my belly. She focuses on looking on the screen, leaving both Calum and I trying to read her expression. "A nice, thick lining and then we see a pretty, tiny, cherry-sized fetus... Congratulations guys..." The doctor turns to us, smiling. I gasp, squeezing his hand. He looks at me, eyes sparkling as he kisses the back of my hand. "I don't think I will ever be more in love with you than I am right now." He whispers, smiling at me. "How far along are we?" I ask the doctor, taking a look at the screen. "Based on the size, 9 weeks." "Is everything as it is supposed to be?" Calum asks, still not letting go of my hand. "Everything looks great. Do you wanna listen to the heartbeat?" She asks. "Can we do that?" Calum asks back. The doctor presses a button on the machine and the heartbeat echoes in the room. I almost tear up at the sound of it; this little sound belongs to that little something Calum and I have created. "Can we get that in a DVD? And a picture of it?" Calum asks excitedly. "Looks like daddy is a bit too excited..." I sing, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

-Morning Sickness "Morning babygirl..." Calum whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms tighter around my waist. "Morning baby." I chuckle, turning to face him. "You look so pretty." He whispers, leaving a kiss on my neck. "Do I?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. "You look gorgeous... As always." He chuckles and lays me on my back before he hovers above me. I giggle as he leans down to kiss me, but soon I feel my gut twist and turn. I nudge him to make him move, before I shoot up and rush to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet.

Soon after, Calum kneels beside me, one hand holding my hair back and the other rubbing my lower back to calm me down. "I am sorry..." Calum whispers as I stop hurling. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and turn to look at him. "Why? It's normal and it means that the chances for our baby having a healthy development are higher. Plus, there are studies associating morning sickness with higher IQ, so don't be sorry." I reply, blinking slowly as I suddenly feel more tired. "Someone did her studying..." He chuckles, flushing the toilet.

-Friends and family find out (Calum's POV) I just can't stop staring at the picture from the ultrasound; that's my kid, the little something I made with my wife. It's nothing more than the size of a lime now, but in half a year from now, it's going to be here, flesh and bones. I graze my thumb over the print of the ultrasound, smiling at it. "What are you smiling at, mate?" I hear Luke ask me as he plops on the couch next to me. I try to hide the picture from him, but as I hear him gasp, I know I failed. "Is that (Y/N)'s?" He asks. I motion him to keep his voice down, but smile as I take another look at the picture. "She is 12 weeks pregnant and we haven't told anyone yet. So if you tell anything, God help me..." I threaten him, putting the ultrasound back in my wallet. "I won't, I promise. Congrats mate, you are going to be a dad." He cheers, patting my back. "I am going to be a dad." I say, smiling proudly.

-Starting to show (Calum's POV) "Love?" I shout as I enter the house, looking for (Y/N). She doesn't respond back, so I assume she is somewhere upstairs, probably napping. Lately, she is getting extra tired, so it is not unusual to find her laying on the couch or sprawled out on the bed. It is adorable, how she is always so sleepy and ready to cuddle. As I walk in our room, I hear the shower running, meaning she is in there. I decide that I need a shower as well, so I strip off my clothes and slip in the cabin with my wife. "Hi..." I whisper, leaving a kiss on her shoulder blade. She jumps a little but relaxes as she realizes it's just me. "You scared me." She mumbles and rests her head on my chest. "I am sorry, I won't do it again. How is my son?" I ask her, placing a hand on her stomach. I gasp as I feel it sticking out, grazing it with my fingers. "You have a bump..." I state, mostly to myself. (Y/N) chuckles and places her hand over mine. "I have a bump... And we don't know if it's a boy." "You know it is. You are only disagreeing because you want a girl. Don't worry, baby number 2 will be a girl..." "Baby number 2? Let's have baby number 1 first and then talk about baby number 2. And I bet you good money it's a girl." She replies, her voice cocky. I just hum sarcastically and stroke her belly, enjoying the fact that I can finally do that.

-Gender reveal "So, do you want to find about the gender?" The nurse asks me as she draws a bit of blood for my lab tests. "If my husband comes to the appointment, we will." I chuckle, watching her as she puts a label on my sample. "He didn't come along?" She asks me. "No, he had an interview. He said he would make it until my appointment, though." I explain and she nods. "I am going to send those to the lab, ok? You can relax in the waiting room until the doctor is available." She smiles at me, helping me stand up from the chair.

I walk in the waiting room, my hand rubbing on my sticking out stomach. "Do you think daddy is going to be here?" I ask the bump as I sit down. "Your first?" A lady sitting across of me asks me, smiling sweetly at me. "Yeah. What about you?" I ask her, resting my palm on my belly. "Third." She chuckles, pointing to her stomach. "Wow, congrats." I cheer, surprised by the fact that a woman who looks so young already has 2 children and one on the way. "Thanks. Congrats as well. How far are you?" She asks me, sitting up a bit better. "4 months in. You?" I ask back. "6. Do you know the gender yet?" "No, we are finding out today. Do you?" "Third boy." She sighs, but strokes her bump softly. "You look like you are having a girl, though." She says and I gasp. "Right? I've been telling my husband but he insists it's a boy." I exasperate and she laughs. "Whatever its gender is, I wish you all the best." She smiles softly. "Thank you, I wish you all the best as well." I coo as she stands up to head in her examination room.

After a while, my doctor calls me in, but Calum is still not here. I relax on the bed while the doctor preps everything for my examination. "Calum's not coming today?" She asks, looking at me a bit confused. "He said he would. He had some work obligations." I sigh. "I see. Well, I can stall it a bit longer if you'd like me to." She offers but I shake my head no. "Let's do this." "Any new symptoms?" She asks me as she squirts the gel on my belly. "I had some nosebleeds, but I read that it is normal. And, uh... I feel a lot... horny, I guess." I fumble with the tissue paper below me. "It's normal. Do you and Calum have sex?" She asks me, turning on the machine. "Yes. While we still can." I reply and she chuckles. "Good plan. Now let's take a look at your baby..." She says, inspecting the monitor. "Did I miss it?" Calum pants as he enters the room. "No, we've just started." My doctor smiles at him as he takes a seat next to me. "You look gorgeous." He whispers as he presses a kiss on my forehead. "Do you want to find out the gender?" The doctor asks us. "Yes, we have an ongoing bet on it." Calum chuckles. "Ok, let's see. Oh, she is not hiding the goods. Congratulations guys, it's a girl." She announces and I squeal excitedly. "I told you it's a girl." I cheer. Calum's eyes stay glued on the screen; it is kind of hard to read his expression. "Cal? Are you alright?" I ask him and he nods. "We are having a girl." He whispers, tearing up a little. "Are you sad?" I ask him. "No, babygirl. I've never been happier." He assures me, kissing my knuckles.

-Telling the world

-Nursery "It's so pretty." I whimper as Calum shows me the nursery. "I told you I would be good at that." Calum sings cockily. "Can you believe she is going to be here in 2 months?" I ask him, leaning my head on his shoulder. "I can't... This feels like a dream..." He whispers, rubbing his thumb over my belly. "We need to find her a name..." I state, yawning a little. "We will." He replies, his voice a bit sleepy.

-Baby's first clothes. "How are you doing, love?" Mali asks me as she takes a seat next to me on the couch. "I am ok. It's a bit hard for me to move around with a watermelon on the front of my body, but I am ok." I reply, setting down the notes for my baby shower. "You look gorgeous. Really." She comments and I coo. "Thank you so much. And thank you for being here. I know you have a lot to do but you still came." Mali chuckles. "Of course. I wouldn't miss the birth of my niece for anything in the world." She replies, placing a hand on my belly. "I brought her a little something. Calum told me that you bought some clothes for her, but an extra onesie will come in handy." She smiles, handing me a little gift bag. I take the onesie out and take a look at it. I giggle as I read the writing on it before I hold the piece of clothing to my chest. "It's really pretty. Thank you. I think I just found her first outfit." I say, moving to hug my sister-in-law.

-Baby Shower Both Calum and I wanted something really chill and pretty, just a small party for our close friends and family before baby Hood is here. I am thankful that we haven't planned anything extravagant, since I am about to pop any moment, so even standing up and greeting guests is a hustle for me. "Are you ok, love? Do you want me to call Calum?" Joy asks me, taking a seat next to me on the table. "I am ok, thanks mama. I just need a moment to sit down and rest a bit." I reply. Joy smiles at me sweetly, kissing my temple. "Of course. I'll bring you some water, ok? And you will rest in here, don't move." She commands and I nod, watching my mother-in-law take care of me.

-Labor:

"Calum..." I shake my husband. I have started feeling strange a few minutes ago, a sharp pain on my lower stomach startling me awake. Calum groans in his sleep, turning on his side. "Calum, wake up." I nudge him. One more sharp pain rushes through me, making me whimper and dig my nails in his arm. "What is it? Is everything ok?" He asks me, jumping up almost instantly. "No... It hurts a lot. I think this is it." I whimper and he looks at me in a bit of panic. "Ok... Let's not panic... Let's get up, call the doctor and tell her we are on our way to the hospital, and... um... let's keep calm." He mumbles in one breath, getting off the bed. I stand on my feet, grabbing my robe and slipping it on. "The bag is in the car, I have a copy of the papers in the car, and I have the number of the doctor on my phone... Oh God..." Now he is even more in panic, making me feel anxious as well. "Cal, baby... What is it? You are freaking out..." I ask him, moving towards him. "She is here, she doesn't have a name, I don't know what I am doing and I don't know If I am going to be a good father... I am freaking out..." He rumbles. I cup his face and kiss him softly, smiling at him. "You are going to be amazing, I know it. Remember that little rat in our first house? The one we found in the kitchen and it got trapped behind the fridge. I freaked out and I started screaming. I wanted to kill it. Remember? You lured it out with cheese. It took hours, but you were patient and calm, and you took it out. I knew that day that if we ever were to be parents, you would be an amazing one. Now, I need you to take me to the hospital, ok?" I breathe out, making Calum nod.

Both of us remain as calm as we can throughout the night. Until the point when I am taken in the Delivery Room. Everything is a blurry, hazy tanlge in my mind, until the moment I hear her cry. I can't remember the pain, I can't remember how hard it was to take her out. All I can remember is that my heart stopped when I heard her cry and I felt myself tearing up. She is the most beautiful thing I've laid my eyes on; nothing can top that. As the doctor places her on my chest, it feels like everything around me is simply not important. She is here. And she is the most amazing creature.

-He holds the baby for the first time. "You did great." Calum whispers, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I still haven't caught my breath, so all I can do is smile at him. "Wanna hold her?" I ask him after a moment or two. Calum nods eagerly and the nurse comes over to help him pick her up. "We made something so perfect..." He whispers as he holds her in his arms. "You are the love of my life. Everything I have and everything I am is yours, forever." He whispers before he kisses our daughter's forehead. "Enough How I met your mother for you, mister." I giggle, but my eyes are watery. "I love you." He states, leaning down to leave a kiss on my lips.

-Baby's Godparent I can't stop staring at her. She sleeps so peacefully, she looks so fragile, it makes me feel emotional every time. Calum hasn't left for even a second, making sure that Lilly and I are safe in here. "Are you guys ready for visitors?" The nurse asks, knocking on our door slightly. "Yes. Can you please call in Mr. Hemmings? We would like to see him first." Calum asks the nurse who nods, smiling at us. "Are you going to tell him now?" I ask him and he shrugs. "I mean, he is going to be the godparent. He is entitled to meeting her first after our families." He replies and I smile, nodding my head. Luke walks in slowly, a penguin plushie and a bouquet in hand. "Hey, guys. Congratulations..." He cheers but keeps his voice low. "Thank you." Calum and I say in unison. Luke leaves the gifts on my bed and heads over the bassinette where baby Hood is. "She is stunning. Thank God she looks like her mama." He teases Calum, who chuckles. "Meet Lilly Joy Hood, the prettiest girl on earth." Calum says, squeezing my hand. "Wanna hold her?" I ask Luke. "Can I?" He asks. "Of course. You are here godfather, after all." I say and wait for his reaction. "Are you serious?" He asks, turning to look at us. "Of course, if you are ok with that." Calum says. "It will be a pleasure." He replies, turning back to look at Lilly.

[vivala-plutofuckyou]

Things no one tells you about being pregnant

-Keep track of your sexual encounters!! Whether you’re trying for a baby or not it’s a good idea to mark on your period calendar whenever you have sex. I downloaded the app P Tracker and it has a handy switch that you just swipe and you can put in the details, like if you used a condom. Keeping track of this will help your doctor more accurately narrow down your due date otherwise they just go off of when your last period ended and that could be way off.

-You will be sore to various degrees throughout the whole pregnancy! And this is totally normal! You’re body is physically changing and rearranging to make room for baby. Your pelvic bone moves, your ab muscles stretch, and your organs get pushed around during your baby’s growth. Don’t worry, you’re allowed to take Tylenol.

-You have to pee in a cup at every appointment. Make sure you stay hydrated and that you eat healthy. And even if it’s difficult at first, you’re gonna become a pro at peeing into a cup.

-There WILL NOT be an ultrasound at every appointment! Ultrasounds are used just to make sure baby is growing and developing properly and on time. Unless you really want to pay for an ultrasound, it’s not necessary at every appointment and it’s best to listen to your doctor on when you actually need to get them. Cherish them when they come around and if you can help it, don’t skip on the 3D ultrasound. It’s amazing!

-You get your blood drawn A LOT. Especially at around the 28-30 week mark. They’ll do this thing called a Glucose Test to see if you have any blood sugar problems. You’re not allowed to eat or drink after midnight the night before, not even chew gum. Then, they make you drink this kinda gross sugary drink. It comes in different flavors but I don’t recommend getting the colored drinks if you get sick easily. I had the lemon-lime flavor and it basically just tasted like thick, flat sprite. After that you have to wait an hour and they draw your blood. If for some reason you fail this test (like I did), then you have to go in again and this time they draw your blood 4 times. I recommend having a high protein diet and a lot of water the day before and bring snacks and orange juice for after. You’ll thank me!

-Your nipples change color. Yeah, you read that right. Not only do your boobs get bigger but nipples get darker and more sensitive. This is because your body is trying to make it easier for a baby’s developing eyes to see it’s food source. No, there’s no way to stop or prevent this. You just kinda gotta deal. Sorry.

-Morning Sickness is different for everyone. Personally, I only had a lot of “Nauseas cuz I didn’t eat/Nauseas cuz I did eat” for the first trimester or so but never got physically sick. My cousin, though, puked almost the entirety of her pregnancy. It was so bad she now has permanent dental issues and ended up losing a whole lot of weight after giving birth. Make sure you talk to your doctor about any concerns you have about your morning sickness.

-It’s okay to dye your hair! A lot of people think the chemicals are bad for you and baby but there’s been quite a bit of research saying there’s no harm done if you wanna rock a bright pink or just touch up your roots. My only advice here is make sure you’re in a well ventilated area. Those smells can really get to you!

-You’re allowed to eat seafood and steak! For a long time doctors would tell you this is a big No-No but there are some seafoods you’re allowed to enjoy! Crab, salmon, shrimp, and anything with really low mercury levels is perfectly safe in controlled amounts as long as it’s properly cooked. Steer clear of tuna though! It has very high levels of mercury and that’s bad for baby! As for steak, you can eat as much as you want so long as cooked medium or longer! Basically, all of the meat has to reach that temperature that kills bacteria that could harm baby.

-You don’t need to “eat for two”. Many people think you need to eat excessively once you become pregnant but that not true and often contributes to excessive weight gain during and after your pregnancy and can cause childhood obesity in your baby. You should eat your regular meals and then whenever you feel hungry. Don’t force yourself to eat more than you can just because you think it will go straight to the baby. That’s not how it works.

-Listen to your cravings! Often times when you crave a specific kind of food, it’s for a reason. You’re body is trying to tell you you’re missing something from your diet. Crave sweets or sugar? Drink a bottle of water and see how you feel, you might be dehydrated. Just want to eat a shit ton of ice? You could be low on iron, eat spinach and other iron-rich foods and bring it up to your doctor. There’s always a reason. And sometimes that reason is you just really want ice cream.

-Everyone’s pregnancy will be different from yours but that won’t stop them from thinking they know what you’re going through. People are constantly going to come to you with unsolicited advice, old wives tales, and stories of their personal experience. It’s going to get annoying and bothersome. Just try to keep a level head when you ask them to fuck off.

-Hemorrhoids are unavoidable. I’m sorry. Invest in prescription wipes and/or ointment.

-Nesting is a thing. You’re going to clean and reorganize the house so many times.

-It’s okay to google your questions! Not everyone has the advantage of a patient doctor willing to answer every single question and concern you have and some of you may even see multiple doctors throughout your pregnancy all of which may give you different answers. Google can become your friend here. There are so many forums and blogs and other online sources when it comes to pregnancy questions. You’ll be able to sleep easier, I promise.

-Buy thin underwear pads. Vaginal discharge can get more frequent as well as change color/consistency/smell and you don’t want to ruin your underwear.

-Doctors don’t always know best. This one is probably the most important. If you feel like your Doctor is bullshitting you, bullying you into decision-making, or just not listening to you, DO NOT assume “they’re the doctor, they know best”. You are 100% in control of your body and what you want your pregnancy experience to be. My friend’s nurses and doctors kept her epidural so high that she literally slept through her contractions and her dilation stalled to the point they had no choice but to do a C-section and it could’ve been avoided except her whole family assured her “the doctor knew best” so she didn’t express her concerns until it was too late. When my mom gave birth to my brother, the doctor let her have 2 seizures on the table after her C-section because he thought he “knew best” about her existing medications and her anesthesia and assumed that because she wasn’t a red head she lied about carrying the R1N1 gene which could’ve killed her. If you’re uncomfortable with your doctor, speak up.

Basically, this is just the stuff I can immediately think of. If you have your own pregnancy stories or tips or whatnot you want to add, please feel free, I’d love to read them. And if you have any questions, my ask box is always open and I’ll do my best to answer them.

[tertiaryembarrassment]

Unexpected (Pt.8) - Paul Lahote x Reader

I’m so sorry about the long wait! I’ve been very busy and tbh just didn’t want to write that much but I pushed through another chapter and hope it can live up to your expectations! Strap in loves under the cut cause this one’s 4388 words long oof

@bookluver01 @mrs-hemmings96 @glimmering-darling-dolly @eleganttravelercloud @vxidnik @wandering–in–fangorn @fangirlbitch02 @steggy4ever @the-main-pumpkin @alphakelsey @thisgirlisahufflepuff @delnquents @my-current-fandom-is @tlittlet @lime-001 @newtycuty

              “Which do you like better, Y/N, the peach or the cream?” Emily faces you, elbows perched on the table, waving two cloth napkins before you, one in a light pink colour, the other, a tasteful off-white. You’re sitting together at her kitchen table, a place you’ve made many visits to in the past weeks since you’d met the rest of the pack. The tabletop is blanketed in a thick layer of bridal magazines, wedding advertisements, craft ideas and, of course, napkin options.

              “Cream,” you say, finally, leaning back in your chair. For a woman with only a month left before her wedding, Emily was massively unprepared. The two of you had spent many of your last few (increasingly frequent) visits together making last-minute decisions on everything from cake decorations to photographers.

              She nods finally, turning both napkins over in her hands to examine them again herself. “I agree.” Finally, she blows out a long breath, setting the napkins on the table and running her free hands through her hair, an exasperated look overtaking her cheerful demeanor. “I am so glad to have you here, Y/N. Seriously. I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

              You laugh, leafing through a magazine on wedding dresses. “Well, for starters, you might have peach napkins.”

              She snorts, a playful swat to your shoulder. “I mean it! There aren’t many people around here I can share this kind of stuff with – the boys aren’t any help, and Leah…”

              “She’s Leah?” You guess.

              “Exactly,” She sighs. Although Leah has softened up on since that first night on the beach, lifting her near-radio silence to talk with you from time to time, your conversations were still scarce, and nowhere near as friendly as they had once been. If this is how she responds to Paul’s imprint on you, you can’t imagine how much worse it must have been with Sam and Emily. You and Paul are merely her friends – Emily is her family. “Have you heard from her recently?”

              You shake your head. “Only a bit. We haven’t seen each other one on one in weeks,” you answer, letting your gaze drop from Emily’s to examine the tablecloth of magazine cutouts and wedding decorations. There’s been a question perched on your lips since the moment you met Paul, since he imprinted, since this all began. Your voice, quiet, you let yourself speak it to the only person who knows the answer. “Does it get easier?”

              Sighing, Emily lets the napkins fall into her lap, twirling them in her fingers, chewing on the question. “Yes and no,” she begins, and you feel your heart drop with her uncertainty. “Just know… she isn’t mad at you, just like I don’t believe she was ever mad at me. Neither of us could help what happened, and she knows that as well as we do. But she’s hurt – the nature of the wolf can be like that sometimes, I think. The shift is a great gift, but also a great burden. One I fear may be heavier for Leah than the others. Give it time. She’ll come back to you.”

              Pressing your lips into a line, you nod in understanding. Give it time was the advice you’d gotten again and again, every member of the pack assuring you that it wasn’t your fault, she’d get over it, you’d both be okay in the end… and maybe this was true, but it didn’t make the waiting any easier.

              You shake your head, banishing your own lamenting from it. Huffing a breath, you run your hands down your face, leaving a forced smile in their wake. ��Oof, okay. We have work to do.” You turn your attention back to the table.

              As you set to thumbing through various articles, pointing out floral arrangements and chattering on about the adorable little bakery that did the cake for your cousin’s wedding, last year, and how you were certain they could make something work on the short notice – did she want cake? Because you’d seen some people opt for cupcakes instead, and you thought maybe that would be cute too…

              Emily leans in, an eye running over your face, seeing right through the calm expression you’d sewn on. That was the thing about Emily – she didn’t need a telepathic spiritual wolf-link with you to always know what you were thinking. She also knew when to keep her mouth shut. And she does, swallowing her worry, nodding along to your rambling about the bakery in Forks.

              The afternoon crawls by like this, two friends hunched over a mountain of marriage memorabilia, jotting ideas down in notebooks and making desperate phone calls to vendors. After a few hours, the two of you are broken from your stupor by the sound of footsteps as they make their way towards Emily’s front door.

              It swings open without a knock – not uncommon, for this house, as most of it’s usual guests feel comfortable enough just barging in – to reveal Sam and Paul, laughing as they enter, deep in some conversation regarding a joke Seth had apparently told them earlier. Emily raises her head, resting her chin in her hands as she leans over the mess on the table.

              “Hey, babe,” she says, smiling as she earns a kiss of greeting from Sam. He straightens to stand behind her chair, placing a hand on her shoulder and massaging it. Her hand reaches up to meet his, fingers wrapping gingerly around his touch. “Hi, Paul.”

              He nods his hello back to her, then turns to you. “Hey, Y/N.”

              A smile creeps across your lips at the sight of him, his frame towering above you from your place on the chair. “Hey, Paul.”

              “How’s the planning going?” Sam says, and you tear your gaze from Paul’s beaming face to address him. He’s looking down at Emily, who returns his gentle expression with one of exasperation, apparently fatigued by the long afternoon of phone calls and appointment booking.

              “Exhausting,” she moans, taking his hand from her shoulder and pressing her lips to his knuckles. Laughing, she adds, “We should just get eloped.”

              He lets out a low chuckle, but shakes his head at her idea, which everyone understood to be only half a joke. “It might be a little late for that – everyone’s already been invited.”

              She groans, letting the frustrated noise melt into a laugh as Sam throws muscular arms around her in a warm embrace before settling down in the chair beside her. She smiles, a thumb on his chin, pulling his face closer to hers as she whispers something like, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

              You suddenly realize how long you’ve been staring at them, watching your two friends in awe as they move in harmony, fitting together like matching pieces in a puzzle. Averting your eyes, you let them land on Paul, who you find is doing the same thing. His lips break into a grin, and he shields his mouth with his hand so the two lovebirds can’t see his words.

              Wanna give them a minute? He mouths.

              You nod, simply pushing out your chair and standing from your place at the table, grateful both for the escape from the room and a reason to stretch your aching legs.

              “Y/N and I are gonna talk a walk,” he says, addressing Emily and Sam, who are too busy mumbling to one another about various wedding plans to acknowledge him. “Try not to miss us too much,” he tacks on, motioning for you to follow as he makes his way out the open front door into the warm sun.

              A giggle slips past your lips as you trail behind him, passing by the to-be spouses, who nod their goodbyes before turning their attentions back to the other. Out the door you step, welcoming the warmth of the early summer evening as it blankets your skin. You fall into step beside Paul, the two of you making your way down the porch steps to the road, walking in unison along the path.

              He sticks his hand deep in his pockets, leaning back on his heels. A beat of silence passes, and you can almost hear the cogs in his mind turning, searching for something to talk about. You decide not to help him out – it can be amusing to see what he comes up with.

              “How did your thesis defense go?” Is what he comes up with.

              You suck in a breath, thinking of the paper you’d turned in a few weeks ago now. “Well, I think,” you start. “It was very nerve-wracking, I was worried I wouldn’t have enough to say, but once they started asking questions, I almost couldn’t get myself to stop.” You let out a laugh, relaxing your shoulders. Paul had that effect on you – you could never be tense around him.

              “Probably helps knowing that all that stuff you’re talking about is actually out there, huh?” He jokes, poking a finger into his chest. “Mythology’s not all hypotheticals and fairytales. Some of us are flesh and blood.”

              “Flesh and blood and hot air,” you retort, throwing your head back in laughter at his feigned wounded expression. More seriously, you finish, “It does help, actually. So, I guess I have you to thank for my Undergrad.”

              He dips in an exaggerated bow, tipping an imaginary hat at you. “You’re very welcome.”

              You laugh again, shaking your head in unconvincing disapproval. He rights himself and the two of you continue down the path, the sky settling into an orange-pink hue on the horizon, sun slowly falling below the treetops.

              “Have you decided yet if you’re going to go for your Master’s?” Paul asks after a moment.

              Your lip curls inward and you feel yourself instinctively bite down on it, contemplating your answer. “I’m not sure,” you say finally. “I might take a break first. Two more years – university has already been so expensive.”

              He nods, tearing his eyes from you for the first time since you’d left the house to examine the sky. “Makes sense. I mean, you’ve got a whole life ahead of you. Why rush, right?”

              Your eyes flicker to him. His jaw straight and sharp, lips just parted as he breathes in warm fresh air, arms extended behind him in a wide stretch as his joints comply in a series of satisfying cracks and pops. His warm skin almost glows in this light, you think, and suddenly he’s turning to you with big brown eyes.

              “What?” He says.

              You shake your head. “Nothing.”

              There’s another moment of silence where two sets of eyes settle on the ground, examining two pairs of shoes as two pairs of legs make their way down one long path. A blush heats your cheeks, and you furrow your brow in an effort to banish it, wondering what you had done to warrant it in the first place anyway.

              It is you who speaks first this time. “Are you looking forward to the wedding?” You say, hooking a thumb over your shoulder to where you left Sam and Emily’s house a few blocks away.

              Paul smiles, nods, tearing his eyes from his feet to meet yours again. Your heart skips for a moment, but you ignore it, focusing on his words. “Very. It’s been a long time coming – I can’t believe they even waited this long to tie the knot.”

              “They’re so happy,” you say, softly, thinking of the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, so enthralled by the mere sight of each other it was like you and Paul just disappeared. “It’s like they’re perfect for each other.”

              Paul lets out a low chuckle, but it’s dipped in sadness as it reaches your ears. “They are pretty perfect together.” He says. He turns to you suddenly, placing a hand on your arm to stop you in your tracks. You comply, confusion evident in your eyes as you meet his gaze, intense and kind. “Hey, so, I know I’m gonna be the best man and all – but, when all that stuff is over, I was wondering, I guess, if this isn’t weird to ask beforehand – do you wanna… save me a dance?”

              The heat returns to your cheeks, this time without question as to why. His expression so earnest, genuine, you can’t bring yourself to point out that this isn’t 19th century England – Sam and Emily weren’t going to have dance cards at their wedding for the ladies to fill with the names of potential suitors, and yours certainly wouldn’t be so full that he would have to claim one weeks ahead of time anyway. Instead, you smile, biting your lip to avoid laughing at his sweet gesture. Although you would mean it as a compliment, you’d rather not chance whether he would accept it as one. “I’d me more than happy to, Paul.”

              Again, he straightens, standing to his full height, a mountain of a man, and you both continue down the path together. You feel the ghost of his hand at the small of your back and he mutters under his breath, “I’m glad.”

--

              “Y/N!”

              The call comes from somewhere across the open field, white chairs arranged in neat rows on bright green grass. A crowd mills around the lawn, folks clad in buttoned shirts and floral dresses announcing the occasion as they chatter, awaiting the top of the hour when they’ll take their seats for the ceremony. It takes a moment for you to locate the voice that calls your name, until you spot a tall, muscular man in a black suit jogging towards you.

              “Paul!” You smile in greeting, tossing your arms around him when he reaches you. He returns the hug, almost lifting you from the ground as he pulls away – he’d been a wolf for years now and still hardly understood his own strength.

              His hands linger on your arms, and he leans back as he takes in your appearance for the day, an obvious disparity between your everyday attire and this one. “You look incredible,” he says.

              You suck in a breath, letting a smile ease across your lips. “Thank you,” you return, glancing down at the dress you’d chosen for the big day, patterned with blossoming white bouquets and deep brown branches, and run a hand over your hair. You’d tried your best to tame it, trying to emulate the more stylish women you’d seen around town with a sort of soft, subtle curl to it. Upon failure, you’d opted for one of those ‘intentionally messy’ looks, braiding your unruly locks back into a low ponytail. “I could say the same for you. You clean up nice.”

              He beams at this, tugging on his necktie and raising one brow. “I do, don’t I?”

              You laugh, gesturing behind him to a group of boys in matching suits, shouting and elbowing one another in what you’ve come to recognize as their classic fashion. “The whole pack does. I can’t believe Sam got all of you in suits.”

              “It wasn’t easy,” laments another voice from behind you, and you feel a strong arm wrap around your shoulder in a brotherly side-hug, the sort of protective motion that was not uncommon from Sam, who you recognize as you turn to meet his eyes. “Thanks so much for coming, Y/N. It means a lot to Emily and I.”

              “Thank you for inviting me!” You retort, leaning into the hug before he pulls away. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.”

              He smiles widely, his eyes as bright as you’d ever seen them. Sam was not an unhappy man by any means of the word, but nothing made him light up quite like Emily. “Crazy, right? I can’t believe I got her to agree to marry me.”

              “Don’t be stupid, you’re a total catch, man!” Says Paul, who claps his friend on the back.

              You nod in agreement. “Paul’s right. You’re both very lucky to have found each other.”

              Sam lets out a subtle laugh, checking his wristwatch from under the sleeve of his tuxedo. “Oh, man. We should probably get everyone to take their places, it’s almost two o’clock.”

              Paul’s smile fades, replaced with an expression of determination. His best man duties, you’d gathered over the last few weeks of planning, were something he did not take lightly. His friend’s happiness was very important to him, and, although he could be a bit silly, you found it quite endearing. “Let’s hop to it then.” He swings around, cupping his hands around his mouth to address the group of rowdy boys behind him. “Hey! Places, guys. Em will be here in a few minutes. Get everybody sitting down!” He nods back to Sam, who offers a smile and a squeeze on your arm before jogging away to take his place at the altar, leaving you and Paul alone. He turns to you. “You gonna be okay alone?”

              You laugh, a hand on his arm. “I think I’ll manage,” you say. He doesn’t respond, only looking at you with raised eyebrows, as if awaiting your okay. You wave your hands towards him, shooing him away. “Go! You have things to do!”

              With that, another grin passes over his lips, and he turns, disappearing into the crowd. Suddenly aware of yourself, you scan the crowd for familiar faces, coming up empty. The whole wolf pack stands at attention beside Sam, and you know Leah must be with Emily, begrudgingly clad in a bridesmaid gown. Other than that, you notice, you cannot recognize a face.

              Nonetheless, heeding the boy’s request, you take a seat near the edge of a middle row, so as not to take the reserved seats of close family and friends. It isn’t long before the other guests follow suit, settling into their chairs, checking watches, wondering when the bride will arrive. After a moment, the seat beside you is occupied by a tall, lithe young man, light brown skin and a mass of curly hair atop his head. You’ve hardly taken notice of him when he speaks.

              “Andrew,” he says, extending his hand towards you. His blue collared shirt is unbuttoned two from the top, neckline dipping lower than one would expect. You return the gesture, shaking his hand in yours.

              “Y/N.” You answer, turning back to the stage.

              He continues. “How do you know the bride and groom?”

              “Old friend of the Clearwaters,” you say, pointing across the way to Sue, one of the few faces in the crowd you knew, and a middle-aged man you don’t recognize. “Newer friend of the Uley-Youngs.”

              He nods, apparently satisfied by your answer. A hand on his chest, he speaks again, answering a question you didn’t ask. “I’ve known Sam since we were kids. Grew up down the street from each other.”

              You offer a polite nod, willing the ceremony to start. Conversation with strangers was not your favorite pastime at the best of times, and this man, although he’d been polite thus far, kept a wandering eye on you so closely you couldn’t help but feel your skin crawl beneath it.

              “You look lovely, by the way.” He says, twirling the sleeve of your dress gently around his finger.

              You pull your shoulder from his reach as subtly as you can, offering a quiet “Thank you,” in response. Awkwardly, you feel your eyes scan the stage, unsure of what you’re searching for before you find it – always a welcome sight, the smiling eyes of a tall, muscular, shapeshifter boy. You widen your gaze at Paul, furrowing your brow, flicking your eyes from him to Andrew, back to him. You hope the message is understood.

              It appears to be, as Andrew chats away about nothing in particular, wondering if this is how he handles all his conversations, a constant stream of words without letting his partner interject their own word edgewise, as Paul narrows his eyes and mouths four words in your direction. This guy bothering you?

              A silent laugh escapes you, and you try to disguise it as a quick breath, as Andrew begins to explain to you his utter disdain for modern social media culture – though you’re not sure how he travelled to such an unrelated topic so quickly – and you return Paul’s message with your own: Help!

              Determination setting on his brow, he’s about to step off the stand when a soft melody plays from a set of speakers somewhere behind you. The crowd takes the cue to settle down, conversations fading into the background as the guests await the sight of the bride. Even Andrew stops mid-sentence, lamenting about his hatred for selfies or something or other, as the sweet sound of violin fills the breeze.

              Paul backs into place beside the other boys, another glance in your direction to make sure you’re alright. You nod, thankful for the music for stopping the conversation, and offer a thumbs-up to calm his obvious nerves. He straightens, apparently satisfied.

              The bridesmaids enter first, a few faces you don’t recognize, and Leah, smiling as widely as she can, given the circumstances, which, for her, is tight-lipped but genuine. She looks beautiful, short hair tied back in a fancy updo, rings of black hair falling from the style to frame her face. Her dress is soft, light and pink, so long it drags along the grass on the ground, ruffled straps framing her shoulders, revealing toned arms beneath. It’s the first time you’ve every seen her look like this, and, you admit, it took you a moment to even recognize her.

              Finally, the crowd rises, instructed by a woman in long robes at the front, in preparation for the bride. The music swells, awaiting Emily, long moments ticking by before she appears.

              You try hard to remember a time when you’ve seen a woman look more beautiful, or smile wider, than Emily does now. You can’t. Her look of excitement rivals any you’ve ever seen, beaming with joy so brightly you fear she might blind her guests. Her long, white dress is strapless, a curved heart-shaped neckline over her breast covered in soft lace. The skirt flows like water behind her, helped on by the breeze, layers of fabric dancing behind her as she approaches the altar, slowly, timed with the music. Her hands clasp a bursting bouquet of white flowers, bright green leaves and lavender – just as she imagined during the planning, you remember.

              When she reaches the altar, Leah accepts the flowers from her hands, and she places then instead in Sam’s open palms, entwining their fingers together. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen two people look at one another the way these two do. It a love you’ve never quite seen before; unlike movies, where the love is fast and harsh and forceful, this is soft, quiet and clear, two people sharing something the rest of the word can’t possibly understand. So natural, it seems strange to think that they ever lived without one another. Two halves.

              The rest of the ceremony passes in a daze, your heart full to bursting with happiness for your new friends and their union. The officiator shares stories of love, what it means and how the couple can pledge themselves to one another. They share vows, promising support, love, and companionship to the other in sickness and in health, and you feel tears forming in your eyes as Sam says the final words of his speech, and the officiator speaks again.

              “Sam, you may now kiss your bride,” she smiles.

              There isn’t a moment of hesitation before his arms are around her, fingers curling in her hair as she cups his face, lips dancing on one another as if they’ve been waiting for nothing else for months. Cheers erupt from the crowd, friends and family whooping and hollering as the couple breaks apart, turning to address their guests, and Sam raises his hand, still entwined in Emily’s, above his head in a victorious salute.

              Paul cups his hands around his lips, letting out a long, high-pitched howl at the sight of his best friend and his new wife. The rest of the pack follows suit, the boys clapping one another on the back and howling like the wolves only they knew each other to be. Even you, from your spot in the crowd, can’t help but join in, a long howl whistling past your lips as you lock your eyes on Paul. He picks you out of the crowd immediately, a broad smile splitting across his face at the recognition of your howl.

              The party is led out by the bride and groom, hands clasped together as they’re followed by their friends, each boy offering an arm to a bridesmaid. Paul tosses a wink in your direction as he passes you down the aisle, Leah’s hand wrapped half-heartedly around his arm. They disappear after a moment, piling into cars to head to their next location, for picture-taking and reception preparation as you find yourself once again without a friendly face in the vicinity, and cringe at the voice over your shoulder.

              “I assume I’ll see you at the reception?” Andrew says, his voice deep in an effort to sound… coy? You nod politely, lips pressed together in a thin line without word. “Maybe you’ll save me a dance, then?”

              You once again, like so many times in the past few weeks find yourself without words, wondering how to respond to such a comment. You must act fast, you think, as your silence will eventually become unbearably awkward, even more so than this interaction already has been. The ‘no’ you want to respond with gets lost somewhere in your stuttering, instead opting for a quiet “Sure thing,” and a swing on your heel, down the aisle and through the crowd, hoping to lose him before he can respond. A long breath of relief escapes your lungs as a moment later you’re leaning against a tree, surrounded by strangers, at the realization that Andrew hasn’t followed you. Perhaps come the reception, you can hope that he won’t notice you. Another quick glance through the crowd and a tall, lithe figure with dark curly hair catches your eye, waving an awkward goodbye as he elbows his way through the mass of people, and something tells you that won’t be likely.

[marypsue]

Imbalance, 4 / ?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / ?

I'm also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

Angus McDonald adjusts his spectacles on his nose, and gives the circle of clear, cracked crystal a cautious tap with the glowy star stuck to the end of his wand.

There’s a short, sharp shower of sparks, a sizzle, and Angus jumps backwards, his eyebrows smoking. He reaches up and cautiously pats out one ember that’s still smouldering in his dark curls.

“Well, that’s - that’s not good, sir,” he says.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that one out,” Magnus says. “Do you know what it is?”

Angus peers at the compact.

"Looks like smoky quartz, sir," he says. "You said you found this in Lucas Miller's lab?"

"Yeah, but it was an emerald when I found it." Magnus watches as Angus' eyebrows shoot up, that spark of interest that means he's found a mystery and won't stop until he's solved it creeping into his curious expression. "Does smoky quartz usually, like, literally smoke? Smoke that's full of creepy whispers?"

Angus takes the compact from Magnus' hand, gingerly, like he's afraid it might bite, and adjusts his spectacles again. "No, that's not a known property of smoky quartz. This is - it's very interesting, sir! Taako said Lucas was transmuting circles of other materials into these gemstone mirrors, but it's been more than a year since you guys destroyed the Grand Relics and reunited the Light of Creation, if it was going to revert you'd think it would have already done it by now -"

"Speaking of Taako," a familiar voice drawls from the doorway.

"Taako!" Magnus shouts, bounding over to scoop his old friend, who’s leaning against the doorway in a carefully casual pose, up into an enormous bear hug. Taako makes a strangled noise as he's hoisted into the air.

"No, put me down! Put me down, you oversized - you...giant gorilla man.”

Taako tolerates the hug for a few moments more, before struggling his way out of Magnus’ grip. He lands on his feet, like a cat, fussing with his multiple enormous scarves indignantly and deliberately not looking at Magnus. 

“So,” he says, holding out one arm, facing away from Magnus, and examining his glittery nail polish. “The student becomes the master, huh? Ango McDango, protégé mine. Mind telling me when you and the Hammer here got so tight?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir!” Angus chirps. “Would you take a look at this, sir? It’s a kind of magic I’ve never seen before, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah, your ass-kissing is noted,” Taako says, spinning to glare Magnus down. “But that doesn’t change the fact that one of my oldest friends decided that he’d rather ask you about a cool magic thing than me. Taako. The wizard?”

“Yeah, we replaced you with a younger, more adorable model,” Magnus says. He reaches out and steals Angus’ cap off his head, giving Angus’ curls a ruffle. “Thanks, little man.”

“Okay, well, first off, good luck finding anybody more adorable than me,” Taako says, flipping one scarf back over his shoulder. “Second, good luck replacing all this, uh, uh, this raw magical talent, knowledge, and experience.” He darts a hand out, palm up, gesturing towards Angus without looking. “Hand it over, Ango m’boy, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

...

Some therapists have framed Rorschach blots on their walls. Some therapists have soothing watercolours. Delia Shelley has a John Tenniel illustration framed and hanging beside her license to practice and her diploma. It’s in colour, a pink-dress-clad Alice taking tea with the Mad Hatter and March Hare. A plaque in the mat surrounding the illustration says, in discreet, elegant gold calligraphy, “We’re All Mad Here”.

The first time Storm saw it, he thought it was in vaguely poor taste. 

Now that he’d gotten to know Delia and her sense of humour, he can see why she keeps it there, but there’s still something about it that makes him just a little uneasy. He’s sure there are people who’ve had one initial appointment with her and never come back due to that illustration. He was almost one of them. 

It’s just that Delia’s such a good therapist. She’s really good at finding the sore spots, picking his insecurities apart, getting to the root of the issue. Storm’s learned a whole lot about himself since he started coming to see her, and - he wouldn’t exactly say he’s better, but he’s definitely less worse.

And, of course, there’s Delia herself. She can take a little getting used to. Starting with the 80s shoulderpads and enormous hair. Today, her blazer is lime green, with hot pink piping along the lapels, and she’s wearing a lipstick-pink skirt and lightning-bolt earrings with it. Storm hasn’t been able to figure out yet whether she dresses up to try to look bright and fun and ‘hip’ for an audience of students, or if she genuinely just likes to look like an eighties workout video threw up all over a clown. 

“So, how’ve you been since our last visit?” Delia asks, tapping her pen gently against the notepad resting on her knee. Since he’s been coming here, Storm’s seen her make notes in it exactly once. He’s pretty sure it’s a sort of security blanket.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Fine.”

Delia tilts her head to one side, her smile turning knowing. “Does that stand for Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic, and -”

“No, I mean...” Storm takes a breath, considering his words. “I’ve been better, but at least I’m stable.” He grips his knees, blows out the breath. “It’s hard to tell lately what’s my brain chemistry and what’s just my news feed.”

Delia nods, and throws in an eye roll. “Wonderful old world we live in, ain’t it.” 

Storm huffs out half a laugh.

“Is that why you asked to see me again so soon?” Delia asks, uncrossing and crossing her legs. The notebook gets set down beside her, within easy reach but out of sight. “Your news feed?”

Storm shakes his head. “No, no, I’m dealing with it. No, there was...something strange happened yesterday, and I just wanted to...” 

He stops. Delia leans towards him a little. “Storm?”

“It’s all right, it’s just a little difficult to think how to -” Storm leans back against the chair’s low back, runs a hand through his hair. “I saw a man die yesterday.”

Delia’s perfectly-arched eyebrows shoot towards her hairline.

“Go on,” she says.

...

Now, for just a second here, we go back to that hill in that park. The wind is up, really tossing those treetops around, and that circle of dead grass is really obvious now. In fact, just looking at it, it seems to be bigger than the last time we saw it. And it's getting bigger still.

The outside edge of the circle creeps forward, inching towards this little purple plastic gem that's lying in the grass. As soon as it hits the gem, there's a flash, like a whole bunch of sparklers going off at once, and then -

...

"So just - just let me get this straight - that was one of those patented Griffin McElroy's Beautiful Ass Monologues, huh? That's what -"

"Now, Justin, in fairness, I think it's pronounced 'beautiful-ass' -"

"- that's what everybody's horny for?"

"All right, Juice, let's hear all the different, original ways you would describe the top of a grassy hill. It's gotta be at least three."

"I'm just saying -"

"No, Justin, now I want to hear it."

"- it's not your best work, Ditto. Not your finest craftsmanship."

"Three exciting, beautiful, original descriptions of the top of a fuckin' hill, Justin. I wanna hear them, Justin. Right now, Justin. Right off the top of your -"

"Okay. Okay, Griffin, you know what?"

"No I don't know, Juice, what?"

"I'll take your fuckin' challenge."

"All right, then let's hear it."

"..."

"..."

"You know, I really thought you boys would do more with 'Griffin McElroy's Beautiful Ass Monologues'."

"Shut up, Dad, I'm trying to be creative."

...

And then, we see the inside of a roller derby arena.

The rink is deafening with the clatter of wheels against wood. It's almost drowning out the yelling, although as people notice what's going on and stop to look, the clatter's dying down. A small crowd's gathering at one end of the rink, all staring up at the ceiling.

And at the girl suspended in midair just below it.

"Just hang on, Jill, we'll get you down!" a much smaller girl almost directly under her shouts, hopping up and down like that will get her all the way up to the ceiling of the arena.

"How!?" the girl suspended in the air yells back down, flailing her arms and legs with no apparent results. "I don't even know how I got up here!"

Another girl crosses her arms over the logo on her jersey. "Have you tried thinking happy thoughts?"

...

"Well, that's weird," Taako says, sitting back and eyeing the compact distrustfully. 

"Yeah. The whole situation's weird," Magnus agrees. "Especially since I'm pretty sure you had the compact last? I don't know how it managed to get into my storage room."

Taako waves a hand dismissively. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm talking about - well, Ango, since you're apparently the go-to wizarding expert now, what'm I talking about?"

Angus adjusts his spectacles again, surveying the compact from several angles, raising his hands to form a square to frame it. Magnus is pretty sure he's just using detect magic, but it sure looks impressive.

"That's very odd, sir!" he says, finally, lowering his hands. "You'd expect to find transmutation magic around an artifact like this, but that's not - it's there, sirs, but it's very old and faint! I don't think this was done with transmutation magic, sirs!"

"Yeah, yeah, you made a basic deduction, whoop dee do," Taako yawns. "Enough about what isn't there. What is there, Angus?"

Angus McDonald frowns. It isn't a frown of confusion, or upset about Taako's teasing. It's a frown that says that something is off its axis and Angus isn't sure he can make it right, and it makes him look, very suddenly, a whole lot older.

"Necrotic energy, sirs," he says.

Taako shoots Magnus a pointed glance. It blunts itself on Magnus.

"Wait, isn't that necromancy stuff?" he says. "What's it got to do with that asshole Lucas - well, okay, when I put it like that..."

"Got it in one, bubbeleh," Taako says. "And that smoke. Weird smoke, necromancy...remind you of anything?"

It's Magnus' turn to frown. Angus looks from Taako to Magnus, obviously trying to interpret the tense silence.

"Is this about Wonderland?" he asks, quietly, and Magnus doesn't miss the way Taako flinches. He's sure he flinches too.

"World's greatest smartass detective," Taako mutters under his breath, reaching out and turning one of the coasters on the table into an oversized chocolate chip cookie, which he immediately takes a large, angry bite out of. The face he makes says, loud and clear, that it doesn't taste anywhere near as good as a chocolate chip cookie baked the conventional way, but that that's not going to stop him from finishing it.

"We should tell your sister. And Barry," Magnus says. "They should know about this."

"Oh, yeah," Taako says, spewing crumbs, and swallows hard. "Can't wait to see their faces when you tell 'em that your, uh, that you found a rock that's a lich."

"There's a lich hiding on the Plane of Thought," Angus breathes, looking at the compact with his eyes alight. "Oh wow, that's very clever! I bet the Raven Queen's emissaries would never think to look there, it's not supposed to have magic! I wonder if they got the idea from you, sirs!" He beams up at Magnus and Taako. Even though he's not the one eating a cookie made out of a cardboard coaster, Magnus still feels a little sick to his stomach.

"Chyup," Taako says, stuffing the last of the cookie into his mouth and dusting off his hands. "Looks like it's time to call in the big guns."

...

We see a forest, thick, dark pine trees rising like columns holding up the distant arch of the sky. There’s a dirt road cutting through the trees, winding around and switching back in on itself, slowly coiling its way up the mountain. And on that road, there’s an old, wood-panelled hatchback sedan with a snowboard and a pair of skis strapped to the roof rack.

We see, through the windshield, two young human men, one with hair cropped close to his scalp and one with hair hanging limply in his eyes, both singing along to the radio. The young man with the short hair drums, badly, on the steering wheel, while his companion rolls the passenger-side window down and pulls out a lighter and a hand-rolled blunt. He clicks the lighter once, twice, but it doesn’t catch.

Squinting through his hair, he gives it one more click.

The fireball lifts the roof off the car, spraying sparks and bits of charred snowboard flying into the trees. Along either side of the ribbon of dirt road, the forest kindles.

...

"Now that's a Beautiful Ass Monologue."

"Well, that's funny. I don't remember there being any asses in it."

"Daaaaad."

"Low-hanging fruit."

"And you call yourself our father!"

...

The goddess turns her attention back to her knitting, gesturing to one of the pews in front of her. Lucretia remains standing, back rigid, staff clutched white-knuckled in both hands until she fears the oak might splinter under her fingers. She’s not here to worship.

Istus glances up, and half-smiles when she sees Lucretia still standing.

“You want to know if it was all worth it,” she says, kindly, and Lucretia interrupts.

“No. Not worth it. We saved the world. We saved every world.” She states it as simple fact, because it is. They did save the world. Her voice only wavers on the last question. “Was it all necessary?”

“Necessary,” Istus repeats thoughtfully, her knitting needles clik-cliking against each other as her hands fly. An intricate pattern of stitches takes shape under her fingers. Lucretia has to wrench her eyes away, force herself to focus on the goddess’ face. It’s a friendly, lovely face, beautiful in a warm, inviting way. Even while looking directly at her, Lucretia can’t seem to make out Istus’ eyes.

“All the suffering, the worlds destroyed, the lives lost, the wars -” She stops herself. But still, the image of Taako’s face over the business end of the Umbra Staff, counting down; the horror in Davenport’s voice as he’d asked her what she’d done - “Was that fate?”

Istus just holds her gaze. Clik clik clik go her needles, a steady rhythm, almost comforting.

Lucretia gives herself a mental shake. 

“Magnus told me about meeting you here. About how you -” She almost says interfered. “Intervened when the Hunger arrived. Was this your plan all along?” she asks, a little more sharply than she’d intended. It’s not that she resents Istus’ attempts - or ability - to put her at ease, so much as she doesn’t trust it. There have been many, many times in Lucretia’s unnaturally long life when it would have been easy for her to let go, to do what seemed natural, to give in.

And if she had, everything would have been lost. 

“Is this how it had to be, to stop the Hunger? All this pain? Was it necessary?”

For a moment, Istus doesn’t speak, turning her focus back to her knitting. The clatter of her needles, the quick movement of her fingers, is almost hypnotic. Lucretia shuts her eyes.

“You each made choices,” Istus says, at last. 

“Did they matter?” Lucretia spits. Istus looks up again, catching her gaze and holding it. Even as she looks directly into those eyes, Lucretia can’t recall what they look like.

“They meant the world,” Istus says, softly.

Lucretia exhales, slow and shaky. Her deathgrip on her staff doesn’t shift, but she leans forward, slightly, letting six feet of heavy oak take some of her weight.

It’s been so long. She’s borne it all herself for such a long time.

“Then I could have chosen better,” she says, under her breath, almost without realising the words have left her thoughts. She’s not certain if it’s a relief or another weight slung around her neck.

There’s a huff of air, and Lucretia looks up to see Istus obviously trying to bite back another laugh. 

“Look, if you ask me, at this point you can just take the win,” Istus says. She holds up her knitting, so that Lucretia can see the subtle shift in the pattern, from tight, tiny cabling to large, loose, soft-looking scallops. “Every decision you made, every step you took, has brought you to -”

It’s probably rude to interrupt a goddess, but Lucretia points with the tip of her staff towards the elaborate scarf Istus is holding up, right at the hard line where the black stops and the scarf turns into a riot of colour.

“Is that supposed to be smoking?”

Istus looks down, just as the scarf erupts into flame.

“Oh, ___________,” Istus says. The word dissolves into static in Lucretia’s ears - not like voidfish static, more like the sound of something that can’t quite be comprehended with mortal ears. She’s still very sure, somehow, that it’s a dirty word. 

It’s not a very large flame, but it is rapidly eating a hole in the scarf, and filling the bright, airy temple with thick, choking, bitter grey smoke. 

Istus rises from her seat with inhuman grace, and then throws the scarf on the floor and stamps on it, hiking up her skirts to keep them from catching on fire as she stomps one foot up and down. It doesn't seem to be having any effect. Lucretia debates with herself for a moment, but the smoke is growing so thick that she can no longer see the ceiling overhead. She points her staff, and as Istus raises her foot for another stamp, casts a bubble of protection around the little flame, cutting off its air.

Finally, the flames die out with a hiss that almost sounds like a human voice, leaving the scarf hanging together by two or three stitches and an enormous hole lined with grey ash in its middle.

Istus raises it to eye level, looking through the hole so that it frames her face, and says, “Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Lucretia presses her lips together, but she can’t keep her shoulders from shaking, just once, with a burst of laughter.

...

We see a drivethrough lineup, packed solid, car horns blaring. None of the cars are moving, though, all of them backed up from the pickup window.

The reason for the bottleneck is instantly obvious when we look through the pickup window and see several people in what we recognise as Taco Bell uniforms, running around the restaurant kitchen chasing a sheep. Which is also wearing a Taco Bell uniform. And a headset.

...

Marial’s newsfeed is suddenly full of stupid National Enquirer stories. In between all the unfortunately, depressingly real bad news, she scrolls past people turning into potted plants, aging or de-aging years in an instant, suddenly emitting a light so bright that it blinds everyone in a five-foot radius. Every once in a while one or two of these will slip past her filters, she knows, but this is...a lot. And when she checks the sources - yeah, that one really looks like it’s from the Washington Post. And that one could easily be mistaken for the New York Times. If these are spoof sites, they're good spoof sites. And if it's some kind of prank or protest about fake news, then it's hilarious.

Sighing, Marial puts down her phone, reaching for the textbook beside her. Just as her hand lands on the cover, a hand reaches out and covers hers. It’s ice cold, and she can see the bones through it. Not like the hand is skinny or has poor circulation. Like someone’s dipped Marial’s hand in a freezer. Like the skin is translucent, nearly completely transparent, each yellow-white bone clearly visible through it. 

Marial looks up.

The dead guy flashes a crooked smile at her.

“Hi,” he says, in a voice that’s half-solid, half-whisper. “Can we talk?”

[lukeccrain]

»running to stand still

chapter: 1/? word count: 2.9 k pairing: stanlon side pairings: reddie (probably more to come)  rating: T, language, mention of violence, self harm, suicide ao3 version: here summary: who knew they made you go to therapy after you try to kill yourself? 

tag list: @slaytherin @eddie-kaspbraked​ @billbenbev

Stan Uris did not want to get out of bed.

Of course, he had woken up in this same predicament every morning for the last year.  But today, he didn’t want to get out of bed more than usual.  In the light that filtered through his half-closed blinds, Stan could make out the calendar that hung above his desk.  The month of October was marked by a green-headed tanager perched delicately on a branch, head cocked slightly as if to ask, “what’s the problem, Stan?”

The problem, Stan thought miserably, is that I have to get out of bed and see the concern on my roommates’ face as I head to therapy.

He could already envision Eddie’s mouth twisting before finally settling into a toothless smile, eyebrows knitted in concern.  He would splutter before offering Stan a yogurt cup, or toast, or some other breakfast food he wouldn’t accept.  He would try to maintain eye contact, but his gaze would slowly descend until it rested on his forearms.  Stan always wore long sleeves, but they both knew what marred the skin beneath.

Richie, on the other hand, would greet him too loudly, gesticulate too wildly, and look him in the eye too rarely.  To an acquaintance, their interactions would appear to be nothing out of the ordinary.  Richie’s jokes were always airy and casual, but the tightness that clipped each word betrayed his true feelings.  Stan was one of Richie’s best friends, but he was also a stranger that Richie wasn’t quite comfortable being himself in front of.

Overall, the prospect of facing Eddie and Richie this morning was perhaps just as debilitating as therapy.

The green-headed tanager stared back at Stan with blank, black eyes. “Well, Stan.  What did you expect after a stunt like that?”

Fuck you, bird.

Stan pushed the duvet aside and brushed a quick hand through his curls.  His fingers caught on the knots that had formed no doubt due to all the tossing and turning he had done during the night.  He grimaced slightly before forcing himself to roll out of bed and stumble into his on-suite bathroom. ��As he brushed his teeth, Stan listened to the dull thumping of footsteps and the clattering of pans above him.  Every now and again, an easy laugh would disrupt the sound of kitchen puttering. While the sound of his roommates’ domesticity had at one point elicited feelings of comfort in Stan, it was now a source of anxiety.  The low hum of conversation caused the ever-present knots that lived in Stan’s stomach to tighten.  

Once he had showered, combed his hair, and dressed (a long-sleeved eggshell button-up and slacks), Stan grabbed his keys and began the ascent up the basement stairs.

He had moved into the basement of Eddie and Richie’s cramped, 1970s townhouse after Patty had left him.  They had insisted that he wasn’t intruding, and Stan had insisted it was only going to be for a month or two, tops. “Don’t worry Stannie,” Richie had smirked, “we knew it was only a matter of time before Pat came to her senses. Stay as long as you need.”

That had been nearly two years ago.  Eddie and Richie had never griped or even asked when Stan had intended on moving out, not even passively.  In fact, they actually enjoyed having Stan as their live-in third wheel.  He was tidy and quiet, and was willing to clean the bathroom; a task that had been a source of constant bickering for Eddie and Richie before Stan had moved in. He had been a model roommate up until the oday when Eddie had found him in the tub of the upstairs bathroom. After that, Stan’s friends had been a little bit warier of his lodging.  He couldn’t blame them.

“Morning,” Stan greeted as he emerged into the narrow kitchen. Eddie swiveled his head to greet him over his shoulder from his position in front of the stove.  His lips curved upwards, but his eyebrows furrowed.   “Hey, Stan,” he hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for words.  Finally, he settled on: “How’re you feeling about today?”

Before Stan could offer any sort of response, Richie had slapped his hand against the kitchen table, making the plate of waffles perched in front of him shudder. “He’s probably feeling great, Eds!  He’s about to re-enact a real-life porno.” Richie spun his fork between his fingers, wriggling his eyebrows as he looked over the top of his glasses in mock seduction. “And how does this make you feel, Mr. Uris?” Stan rolled his eyes, swatting the side of Richie’s head lightly as he squeezed between the two boys, and towards the front door. “Beep, beep, Rich.”

As he pulled on his jacket, Stan pretended not to notice the look that was exchanged between the two. “You’re not gonna have breakfast?  I made waffles,” Eddie questioned in a voice that was probably supposed to come off as breezy and casual.   “Yeah, they’re kosher…whatever the fuck that means,” Richie added, but he stared down at his own plate as he spoke. For a fleeting moment, Stan wanted to scream at him to just fucking look him in the eye, but the urge dissipated just as quickly as it had arisen.

“I’m not really hungry.  Probably the meds.” Eddie bit his lip, quiet for a moment. Stan had a hand rested on the doorknob, but knew that the conversation wasn’t quite over.  He was almost certain that Eddie had spent nights researching SSRIs and tricyclics, and the difference between the two.  He would know every single side-effect, and how to tell when the dosage needed to be upped.  All of Eddie’s research was poised on the tip of his tongue- Stan could see it struggling to escape.  But Eddie swallowed it, put on the same timid smile, and gestured towards the fridge with his spatula.

“Fair enough.  Do you wanna take a yogurt cup for later?  Richie picked up Oikos, and I think there’s some key lime left.”

And so, Stan had left that morning with a cup of Greek yogurt that he knew he wouldn’t eat in his jacket pocket, and Richie and Eddie’s worried eyes burning into the back of his scalp.

Stan’s appointment was downtown, a fifteen-minute drive that came and went much too quickly for his liking.  He had always enjoyed driving, as it had given him some menial task to focus on instead of the spin-cycle of thoughts that tumbled fervently through his head.  He had needed that reprieve this morning, and for a moment he thought wistfully of Patty’s luxury apartment that sat at the edge of the city in a neighbourhood that was too new to have garnered any sort of name for itself.  From there, it would’ve taken Stan an extra forty-five minutes of driving.  He fantasized about those forty-five minutes as he parked the car in the near-empty lot, and trudged into 1435 Cotswold Avenue.

The lobby was what was to be expected from any walk-in clinic; plastic chairs in an assortment of unappealing tans and burgundies lined up against the walls, a variety of out-of-date People and Good Housekeeping magazines fanned out across a glass coffee table, and a handful of eclectic clients with eyes desperate to look anywhere but at another person.  It was exactly what Stan had expected.

He approached the counter, and was greeted by a plump middle-aged woman.  She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose once he neared.  She offered a polite smile, and Stan noticed that she had bright pink lipstick on her right incisor. “May I help you?” “Uh, yeah.  I have an appointment with Dr. Morgan for ten.”

Stan focused on the pamphlets for seasonal depression and borderline personality disorder as the receptionist typed something into her computer. The models stared back at him with blank eyes and big, cheesy grins. “Stanley Uris?” He gave up on his staring contest with the pamphlets and met her expectant gaze.  He nodded once, which prompted her to type furiously once more.

“Right, well you’re right on time!  Dr. Morgan’s nine o’clock cancelled, so you should be able to walk right in.” Stan mustered a grateful smile, though something in his stomach churned as he followed the woman across the waiting room and towards a long, carpeted hallway.  Stan counted three doors before they stopped in front of one that had DR. K. MORGAN engraved into a silver plaque.  The receptionist knocked twice before opening the door enough to poke her head in.

“Dr. Morgan, your ten o’clock is here.”

There was a mumbled response that Stan couldn’t quite make out before the receptionist pushed the door open and stepped aside.  She smiled happily as he passed, and he offered her a soft, breathless thank you.

The woman sitting behind the desk was young, perhaps mid-thirties. Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she surveyed Stan with warm blue eyes as he tentatively made his way into her office.  Dr. Morgan stood to greet him, and held out her right hand.

“You must be Stanley.  I’m Dr. Morgan.” Her voice was soft with cordial; a feature that no doubt came with dealing with suicidal individuals for a living.  It wasn’t unpleasant.  Stan reached across her desk and pumped her hand up and down twice. “Nice to meet you.  Stan’s fine.”

She nodded with a smile, and gestured him towards two overstuffed armchairs by the window. “Okay, Stan.  Did you wanna take a seat?”

No, I want to leave, Stan thought despondently as he obliged.  It wasn’t that he had anything against therapy; he wanted nothing more than to walk out cured of any negative thought or compulsion that had ever possessed him.  However, the issue was that he believed himself to be entirely beyond the sort of help that Dr. Morgan could offer.  Stan prided himself as a logician; someone who held rationality above all.  What his rational mind was telling him was that there was no possible way things were going to get better.  He had crunched the numbers, done the research and played with the algorithms, and the unfortunate result was that there was no way to crawl out of this pessimistic hole he seemed to find himself in.  Really, the only reason he even made the appointment in the first place was to ease Eddie’s anxiety, not his own.

Dr. Morgan lowered herself down into the armchair opposing him, crossed one leg over the other, and balanced a clipboard on top of her thigh. There was a black pen poised in her left hand, ready to write down the Tragic Story of Stanley Uris.   Stan quickly swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

“Okay, Stan, I’d like to begin by just asking you a couple of questions about yourself.  How old are you?”

These were the types of questions that Stan had no problem answering: age, occupation, where he lived and who he lived with, had he ever seen a therapist before (twenty-three, university student, 2174 Osler Avenue in a basement suite, two roommates, Eddie and Richie, a counselor once or twice in high school…).  They were easy and semantic, and he rattled them off like he was reciting numerals from his calculator in a maths class.  He felt at ease for the first time since he walked in the door.

“Okay, good.  And why are you here today?”

The confidence that Stan had garnered suddenly dissipated from underneath him.

“P-pardon me?”

Dr. Morgan, who had been scribbling furiously before this, lifted her ballpoint pen from the paper and peered up at him with a lopsided smile.

“Well, most people don’t just wake up in the morning and suddenly decide they’re going to try therapy.  Usually there’s something that spurs them, you know?  What was that spurring moment for you?”

Stan felt the words bubble and catch in his throat.  He had never said it out loud; he’d never had to. Everyone knew what had happened, and everyone worried about him, but nobody wanted to say why.  This was especially true for Stan.   He stared back at Dr. Morgan for a moment, frozen, before clearing his throat, forcing the words to detach themselves from the back of his mouth.

“I tried to kill myself.”

Dr. Morgan began writing once more, her eyes focused on her notes as she asked, “how?”

“I, uh…I slit my wrists in the bathtub.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with the weight of all that had that transpired after that one day.  Stan felt an icy feeling well in his chest, and he watched his therapist continue to write without a moment’s hesitation.  Once she had finished, she leaned back in her chair to survey him.  She wasn’t smiling anymore, but her eyes conveyed something akin to compassion.

“Right, okay…and what compelled you to do that?”

The answered seemed pretty obvious to Stan.

“I didn’t want to live anymore.”

“Well, sometimes people will attempt suicide for other reasons, sometimes as a cry for help.  Did you tell someone, or leave a note?”

Stan shook his head, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“No…my roommate found me.”

Dr. Morgan’s eyebrows furrowed, and she tapped her pen twice against her lips.

“You said earlier that you lived in the basement.  Did you do it in that bathroom?”

“No, the upstairs one.”

Stan didn’t understand why it mattered which bathroom he tried to kill himself in, but apparently it was important because Dr. Morgan was scribbling again.  He was tempted to lean forward and catch a glimpse of her scrawlings.  Before he could do so, however, Dr. Morgan had set down her pen and crossed her arms on top of her clipboard.

“Well, Stan, here’s what I’m thinking.  The upstairs bathroom is your roommates’, right?  If you really didn’t want anyone to find you, I think you would’ve slit your wrists in the bathroom in the basement; that’s your own personal space, and no one would have any reason to go in there until he realized you were missing, and that wouldn’t be for at least a day.  Do you think it’s possible that you did it upstairs because you wanted to be found?”

Stan thought about the question, mulling it over in his head. Did he want Eddie to find him, arms opened from the top of his wrists to the crook of his elbows?  Eddie hated blood, and apparently there had been quite a lot that day.  Stan felt bad that he had probably scarred him for life.  He had only wanted to hurt himself, not Eddie and Richie.

“No, I wanted to die in the sunlight.  There’s no windows in the downstairs bathroom, but there’s one above the tub upstairs.”

His answer was steely, but a knowing smile played at Dr. Morgan’s lips. It trigged a spasm of annoyance in Stan. Who was she to question the motives behind his suicide attempt?  There was no crying for help about it- Stan Uris had really and truly wanted to die that day.  Sometimes, he still did.

“That’s fair.  But can you do me a favour, and just consider that idea between now and our next session?”

He nodded, but was trying to cram the notion into the depths of his subconscious at that same moment.  

The remainder of the session was spent talking about his depression, family history and how he was feeling on his medication.  Dr. Morgan had stopped probing, and didn’t mention his suicide attempt again.  Since she was a professional, Stan assumed that she could tell when she had crossed a line with a patient.  Still, he knew that the topic was probably going to come up again next week, and so the anxiousness that had emerged did not wane.  

At eleven, Dr. Morgan stood and tucked her notes underneath her arm.

“Okay, Stan.  I think that this was a very promising first session.  Should I expect you the same time next week?”

Stan nodded meekly as he raised himself from the armchair.  He quickly shrugged into his jacket in an attempt to ward off the complete feeling of vulnerability.  Dr. Morgan held her hand out once more, and smiled as he grasped it.

“And, Stan…will you please think about what we talked about today? Even if you don’t think it’s true at all?”

Stan mumbled some sort of affirmation, before fumbling with the doorknob and retreating out of her office.  He felt like his ears had been stuffed with cotton, and his throat was raw as if he had been swallowing sandpaper all morning.  He knew what Dr. Morgan had said wasn’t true, but it still bothered him.  

“Hey, man.  You okay?”

Stan’s eyes flicked upward and he pursed his lips.  A black boy, about the same age as he was, looked up at him from behind the receptionist’s desk.  He looked concerned, but not in the same way that Eddie or Richie did; not like he was a piece of fine china that was about to splinter at any moment, but like he was a genuine person who appeared to be upset. The boy’s lips curved into a smile, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah…f-fine,” Stan finally spluttered, his hands retreating into his jacket pockets.  The fingers on his right wrapped around the yogurt cup and squeezed instinctively.   The man’s grin grew.

“Alright, just making sure.  See you next week, then!”

Stan managed to reciprocate a gentle smile of his own as he shouldered the door to the building open.

Yeah, I guess you will.

[jayvii-blog1]

Today we had the second doctor’s appointment I am starting to get more relaxed in this new world we are both traveling. The doctor is awesome she makes it all super relaxing hell today she even wore her comfy clothes. Here are some notes from the appointment today:

KaiNeKvrsun  notes 143 lbs KaiNeKvrsun: ok lets get vitals KaiNeKvrsun  notes 120/78 JuelzDior  watches the machine and the numbers   KaiNeKvrsun  checks pulse KaiNeKvrsun: i loooooved your tumblr btw KaiNeKvrsun: i blushed so hard JuelzDior: it has been fun creating the blog of this experience JuelzDior: we had to share it with you KaiNeKvrsun: i showed my gf like bae loooooook KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: awwe KaiNeKvrsun  notes 80 bpm

KaiNeKvrsun: i would like to get a listen at your lungs of thats ok

JuelzDior: yes of course

KaiNeKvrsun: ok aweome

KaiNeKvrsun: this table right here

KaiNeKvrsun  grabs stethoscope 

KaiNeKvrsun  rubs it over your back locating your left lung 

KaiNeKvrsun: deep breath for me

JuelzDior  breathes in deeply 

KaiNeKvrsun: ok and exhale 

JuelzDior  exhales as directed KaiNeKvrsun  moves to right lung KaiNeKvrsun: inhale please JuelzDior  inhales as directed KaiNeKvrsun: aaand exhale JuelzDior  exhales once more KaiNeKvrsun: perfect KaiNeKvrsun  puts scope on your heart and listens

KaiNeKvrsun: ok perfect KaiNeKvrsun: great news KaiNeKvrsun: we can actually take a look at the baby(ies) KaiNeKvrsun: i know you want it to be a surprise so the way ill do it is JuelzDior: oh wow really?

KaiNeKvrsun: ill switch up from the single sonogram to the twin jus to keep you wondering KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: oh wow lool JuelzDior: ok KaiNeKvrsun: you can both follow me KaiNeKvrsun: let me wash my hands KaiNeKvrsun  washes hands and puts on gloves

JuelzDior  wiggles toes while anxiously wondering what to expect KaiNeKvrsun: ill need to lift your shirt a bit more KaiNeKvrsun: and just so you know this gel is cold KaiNeKvrsun: i hate it but its necessary JuelzDior  pulls my shirt up higher and relaxes

KaiNeKvrsun  applies gel to your belly and grabs transducer KaiNeKvrsun: are you excited? JuelzDior: im a little nervous JayvionDior  peeks over and goes back to my phone recording the appointment   KaiNeKvrsun  rolls transducer around your tummy and zooms in

JuelzDior  lowers eyes as her hormones had her thinking Jay was not paying attention or on Facebook KaiNeKvrsun: i know its a bit hard to see but tht there is a baby

JuelzDior  looks at the image and waves "hi baby" KaiNeKvrsun: its kind of looks like a smidget tadpole KaiNeKvrsun: but the cutest one i ever seen KaiNeKvrsun: lol JayvionDior: loll JuelzDior: Tadpole Dior

JayvionDior: is there only one tadpole? KaiNeKvrsun: here at month 2 your baby has already began to develope its heart spinal cord muscles brain and bones KaiNeKvrsun: you sure you wanna know JuelzDior: is it a girl brain? KaiNeKvrsun: i cant tell you lol KaiNeKvrsun: i made a promise to 2 wonderful people KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior  palms face "ok we can wait"

KaiNeKvrsun: now your placenta and amniotic sac are still forming along with the baby so itll still move around quite easy KaiNeKvrsun: you wont feel it dont worry JuelzDior: can i ask how long will my nipples be so sore? KaiNeKvrsun: the umbilical cord had formed also and connected to the baby for the supply of blood and food KaiNeKvrsun: its just the beginning love KaiNeKvrsun: but they wont be so tender around trimester 2 JuelzDior: ughh that sounds like awhile lool KaiNeKvrsun: but then much more tender around trimester 3

KaiNeKvrsun: now you cant see bc of how small he/she/they are KaiNeKvrsun: but the eyes and limbs are also starting to form

KaiNeKvrsun: and the little one is about the size of a bebe pellet KaiNeKvrsun: very very small JuelzDior  sends kisses to the screen   KaiNeKvrsun: we can only see this much thanks to zoom KaiNeKvrsun: lol

KaiNeKvrsun: good pictures come at 4 months when i typically do the gender reveal JayvionDior: can't wait JayvionDior: she is carrying 8 babies in there loll KaiNeKvrsun: lmbo KaiNeKvrsun: oh i sure hope not JuelzDior  glares at JAyvii KaiNeKvrsun: shes gonna try to kill us both JuelzDior: you gonna be a Zaddy seeking a new home KaiNeKvrsun: lol KaiNeKvrsun: z JuelzDior: with a rehoming fee KaiNeKvrsun: lawd

KaiNeKvrsun  grabs radar and rolls it on your tummy seeking a hb KaiNeKvrsun: is your sound on JayvionDior: yes KaiNeKvrsun: it may be very faint so listen carefully JuelzDior: yes they are KaiNeKvrsun: ok listen carefully JayvionDior: wow JayvionDior: time to listen JayvionDior: yay KaiNeKvrsun: hb JuelzDior: oooooooooooooooooooooooo JayvionDior: there it goes JuelzDior: i hear ittttttttttt JayvionDior: you hear it JuelzDior: hiiiiiiiiiiiii my tadpole's heart

KaiNeKvrsun  cleans off radar and wipes off your belly KaiNeKvrsunKaiNeKvrsun Whisper: how are you feeling a far as your nausea JuelzDior: i would like for someone else to have it JuelzDior: im over that KaiNeKvrsun: lol trust me i understand

KaiNeKvrsun Whisper: itll tone down a bit after trimester 2 as well JuelzDior: its hard out here with a pregnant belly KaiNeKvrsun: yes maam it is KaiNeKvrsun  takes off gloves and grabs prescription pad

KaiNeKvrsun: im gonna write you a prescription for zofran KaiNeKvrsun: you dont need water to take it KaiNeKvrsun: just place it under your tongue and let it dissolve JuelzDior: ok dr thank you KaiNeKvrsun: it pretty much works instantly KaiNeKvrsun: but before taking that try a little lime or lime water its very good for it as well JuelzDior: i will try the lime water because my facebook support group said try ginerale and it was too strong JuelzDior: way too much carbonation KaiNeKvrsun: yes i typically dont recommend it JuelzDior: ah ok KaiNeKvrsun: lime can be harsh if you have too many but maybe one freshly squeezed lime inside an average cup of water can do the trick JuelzDior  taps the information on her phone under notes about baby JuelzDior: thank you dr this will surely be helpful KaiNeKvrsun: i love that you take notes KaiNeKvrsun: lol JuelzDior: of course it will be on the blog later JuelzDior: lool KaiNeKvrsun: so many women are clueless even with all the information i give KaiNeKvrsun: lol ooo i cant wait to see

KaiNeKvrsun  hands you your shoes KaiNeKvrsun: ok my favorite part KaiNeKvrsun: hit me with the uestions KaiNeKvrsun: questions* JuelzDior: no questions at the moment i am so ready to go furniture shopping JuelzDior  grabs keys "come on baeeeeeeeeeeeee lets go to kids r us or target" KaiNeKvrsun: lol KaiNeKvrsun: dont drag him too far lol KaiNeKvrsun: i know i went overboard the other day JuelzDior: ty dr so next weeks appointment will resume on thursday correct? JuelzDior: and i need you to relax you have a bundle baking KaiNeKvrsun: yes maam normal time

JuelzDior: see you in 2018 KaiNeKvrsun: happy new years and have the best night ever! JuelzDior: thank you KaiNeKvrsun: goodnight mr dior JayvionDior: good night and Happy New Year

[ecotone99]

[HM] A random (hopefully funny/entertaining) tale about a young man, a Chevy Spark, a few life lessons, and a car accident.

So this was about a year and a half ago. I was 21 and desperate to get CHEAP/new car. First of all let me start off by saying I was young and dumb (still young and dumb). I tend to make irrational and quick decisions when i’m excited about something. For personal reasons that I don’t wanna get into I was not able to receive a license until I was 21. So when I finally got my license I needed, let me re-phrase that...had the biggest urge/desire to buy a car like the day before my license came in the mail. Also getting a car would allow me to start a new career.

Now for financial, and impatient reasons I was going to finance the car. Now when I say finance I really mean have the LOWEST monthly payment possible. My job requires me to drive 100-200+ miles a day mostly highways so leasing was out of the question. I also did not, and still do not want to buy used. Which is a whole separate argument for a whole different day. Anyway I was literally looking for the cheapest 2018 model car ever created.

It’s a week before fourth of July and the cheapest car I could find was a 2018 Chevy Spark for around 13k. I figured what the hell I’ve waited 21 long years on my skateboard I can wait another week to try and get the “fourth of July deals” to increase my wheel size from 59mm to 200mm.

Boom after checking “cars.com” everyday, on July 7th 2018 I pull up with my dad to a chevy dealership 90 miles away from home. Me, feeling like a Russian mobster (I’m Russian haha) on the outside, and as excited as a young school girl on the inside walk inside with my dad. I pull out my phone and show the sales guy the ad I saw. 2018 Chevy Spark for $10,001 in a lightish blue.

Keep in mind I did NO research. I read NO reviews. My mind was set on this Chevy Spark. You could tell me 9/10 Chevy Sparks are reported to have a mind of their own and drive off of cliffs at 50k miles and I would still buy it without a second thought.

Now I’m sure all of you can relate to a certain degree. You know the feeling of being so damn excited for something. The feeling of wanting something so damn bad that you would do irrational things to get it. In that moment you don’t want to hear anything negative about your decision. You just want IT. At the time it was the only thing I could afford so in my mind it was either the Chevy Spark or never drive a car again in my whole life.

Back to the dealership, the sales guy asked if I wanted to test drive it, and for that 90 second circle in the parking lot (I didn’t even take my time I just wanted to get back and sign the paperwork) I fell in love what felt like for the first time. I didn’t even fall in love with the car I fell in love with the feeling of driving hopefully my neat future car.

This is a Chevy Spark LS. I’m talkin manual windows, no power locking, no center console, cheap speakers, feel ever pebble on the road, get blown off the highway when a gust of wind or even ANY car passes by. I’m talkin a car that teaches you what claustrophobia is. A car that feels like you’re sitting inside one of those electric cars for toddlers. You get the point this was a bare skeleton with a piece of plastic around it. But I loved it.

I had pretty good credit at the time so I was able to finance my first big purchase. 7.9 APR at 178 a month. At the time thats literally all I could afford. Ya know with insurance being so stupidly expensive if you’re young. So after a long day of paperwork and the sales guy telling us he literally can’t even drop a penny off the price I drove my baby home.

Fast forward to January 1st 2020 around 5pm: “DAD I NEED YOU TO COME TO ME I JUST SLAMMED INTO A PARKED CAR GOING 60”

Okay okay I know you’re excited to hear what happens next but let me back up a little.

For my job I spend A LOT of time on the road and in my car. 200+ miles/6+ hours a day is not uncommon. I’m about 5’7 and 150 pounds so I’m not the biggest guy. I’m a nice guy, but the Chevy Spark taught me what it feels like to be uncomfortable. It taught me what anxiety is. It taught me that you can have road rage at yourself.

A little insight on my job; Im an in home sales man for home improvment. The owner of the company I work for (he took a liking to me because he is also Russian) knew I was planning on getting a car. He told me when I get a car he will train me in becoming a sales rep. Promoting me from my position as a telemarketer. So knowing this made me that much more in a rush to buy a car. We drive to appointments everyday, and sometimes just sit in the car to wait/chill in between appointments. So basically 2/3 of the work day is spent in the car, and the work days can sometimes be 9am to 11pm.

Me being naive and irrational did NOT think about these things when purchasing a car. I did NOT realize how important comfort is when sitting in the car all day. Sure the first 6 months I was so excited about having a car that I did not think about these things, but things quickly changed.

I started to get really angry and started to despise working. I would wake up KNOWING I’m about to be very uncomfortable and annoyed inside of my car.

Every detail about the car is horrible. My left elbow rested on what felt like rough old cement, and the rigid surface would leave marks on my arm. My right arm would always be itchy from the cheap cloth armrest. My left leg literally had no where to go. THE WORST PART ABOUT THE CAR THOUGH, my left knee would literally almost ALWAYS be touching the manual window roller handle. Half the time the handle was either directly on top of my knee or directly in front of my knee. I had nightmares about crashing the car only because I knew when I did that handle would be the end of my knee.

There was no storage compartments in the car. I had no where to put my phone, my change, my wallet, anything else comfortably. Because it’s a tiny hatchback my back seats would ALWAYS have to be pushed forward to fit all of my work stuff (giant bags). MEANING I could not push/lean my seat back enough. It was the equivalence to those people in the asian countries that live in the tiny apartments that look lime walk in closets.

Now I’m a music guy so listening to music is a must. Not even a year and my speakers started to blow... The speakers sounded like an old nokia phone in the first place. Or a better description would be when your earphones break so you have to pull out the old trusty $9 backup earphones from ross. Constantly I would think about installing better speakers but just never got around to me

There are 2 lessons to be learned from this pointless post, but one of them is how important comfort is when picking a car to own. I will now NEVER sacrifice comfort in the future. Not just in a car, but in anything.

Okay now....January 1st 2020 at about 4:30pm on a very main road. My new years resolution was to stop smoking cigarettes so this was day one!

So around that time of year it can get slow for my job. So as a side hustle I started doing Uber Eats. Let me take a quick second to say CHEVY SPARK DOES NOT QUALIFY FOR RIDE SHARING BECAUSE IT DOES NOT HAVE 5 SEATBELTS. I was EXTREMELY mad when I found that out AFTER I bought the car.

Since the car is so uncomfortably small it took many many attempts to find a phone mount/holder that was just okay. I finally found one that required my phone to be right in the middle. Keep in my mind this is my first day using it. Also keep in mind I am Russian and it was just new years. RIP to my liver the night before.

Here I am driving 60 on a very main road. My phone is right in the middle and I’m looking at it trying to figure out where I’m supposed to deliver this burger to. Uber eats; pick up food from restaurant and deliver to customer As I’m looking at my phone in the middle, while singing along to my music, most likely thinking about life, 100% hoping my headache would go away, wondering what my girlfriend is doing, admiring how warm my new north face jacket that I just bought is. Basically doing everything but paying attention to the road (And I’m sorry my grammar is getting worse as this post is going its 3am and I stopped caring as much LOL). I’ve been driving for a year and a half now I’m so confident in my self I can drive with my eyes closed using my feet.

Anyway, BAM I look up and my car is basically inside of an Audi SUV. “FUCK!!!!!!” “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” close my eyes cause its a dream open them cause I’m waking up after a nightmare “FUCK”

This is my first accident. I was going 60mph, at this point I’m completely speechless and very shocked. Every one always told me that car was a death wish but after about 5 seconds of stating in front of me I immediately climb over the airbags and exit the smoking, pulverized hunk of plastic.

I slammed into a parked car on the right side of the road. Really horrible too, thank you seatbelt. I don’t even know what to do in this situation so I’m dumbfounded. Witnesses are asking if I’m okay I was so all I could say was “yeah I’m okay”

I called my dad, and after what seemed like a minute he shows up. The owners of the parked car came out of the restaurant all normal accident stuff. I had a sprained finger, bruises yada yada.

Now my insurance wanted nothing to do with is since I was doing uber. I filed a claim through uber’s insurance and they said I’ll be covered. Awesome, score, BUT I didn’t know what gap insurance was at the time. I failed to do my research which I always end up having to learn a lesson cause of sometimes heedless decisions.

I had 8 thousand left to pay off my car loan and 40k miles on the car. I for sure thought it was over. I was done, game over. Every one told me the insurance would pay me 5 MAYBE 6 thousand for the car leaving my to pay off the rest.

Now I’m not religious but by some kind of mystical higher power I was blessed. I pretty much hit the jackpot. My payout was $11,200...

I purchased the car for $10,001...

I got my loan payed off AND received about 2k.

Now if that doesn’t scream second chance I don’t know what does.

To wrap up this long long meaningless story I just want to say a few things.

If you read up to this point I applaud you. It wasn’t a hell of a ride to read this story. It wasn’t the script to the next big summer blockbuster. It was more like, a carnival ride for children ages 3-6.

But there are some important lessons and morals to be taken from this. 1. Fuck the Chevy Spark 2. Comfort in a vehicle is very important 3 Do your research and please get a car that you will love even 2 years down the line. Get something you like. If you cant afford it wait until you can if you can be patient 4 GAP INSURANCE 5 Don’t make hasty decisions like me

After lots of research I am getting ready to finance a 2020 Toyota Corolla SE next week, and I’m very excited!

We live and learn. We make mistakes and we learn from them. I know when it comes to stubborn minds like myself we won’t listen/pay attention to advise that much until we have to pay the consequences. I try to listen more and look things into a different perspective as I get older because the older you get past 18 the more bad decisions screw you over. The consequences weren’t as bad as a teenager but now wrong avoidable decisions can really change your life for the worse. Adulting isn’t easy but thats just the game we call life. Goodnight ya’ll I have to be up in about 4 hours to drive my rental 100 miles to go sell some windows.

OH AND MY LEFT KNEE DIDN’T GET HURT

Ps: Still haven’t smoked a cigarette

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