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#then tell Me to do the laundry when this is the first time in forever hes done his own im loike Please
captainswhore · 1 day
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AYYYOOOOO is this somethin y'all would like to read for reals??
shoutout to @chamomiletealeaf for talking to me about horny price with a breastfeeding wife!!!
we were talking about how for halloween one year price is a cowboy, the baby is a cow, and you're a milkmaid. price goes feral for your tits in the milk maid dress, smut ensues, price is wildly turned on by the way your tits leak milk like it's going out of style- groans when he sees it happen and wants to cum in record time
....... and then i went off the rails and wrote this:
you think his groan watching your milk is one of disgust so you start tearing up and john thought he was gonna cum quick watching your milk? he shoots his load without warning watching the first tear slide down your cheek
john thinks you're crying because you're so overstimulated and turned on, you think john groaned because he's disgusted, cue john trying to hold onto you tight and kiss all over your face and you wiggling out of his arms and booking it to the bathroom so you can cry in peace
come back out of the bathroom in a massive hoodie and a pair of pants, tell him in a croaky voice you're gonna go check on the baby, leave the room
johns post orgasm glow is very quickly squashed when he gets up to put on boxers, moves to follow you into the nursery, and hears you tearfully muttering things to your baby
"mommy loves you, you know that?? want you to grow up big, n strong, and loved," and when john hears your voice croak after that his heart drops out of his ass, he hears it shatter when you next mutter "and mommy and daddy are gonna give you everything you could ever want.... we'll live together and get you a good school and you'll make friends and you'll fall in love with someone who thinks you're the prettiest little lady ever... make sure you're confident so no one can build you up n break you down... get you some good military benefits so you'll be okay... i don't think you'll have to worry about a brother or sister at all- and i don't think mommy n daddy are gonna be able to stay together forever, but we're gonna try for you sweetheart. mommy'll be sad for a while but i'd do anything to make your life better baby"
john pushes the door open while trying to hold back tears, tries to wrap his arms around you, but you go to sit in the little rocking chair in the corner
whispering something like "i've got her john.... you can go back to bed. goodnight"
you've only ever called him john when you first met, and when you legally had to say his first name during your wedding vows.
for the next three days you don't let him touch you. not even in bed. he waits til you're fully asleep and breathing even before he'll pull you into his chest and finally fall asleep, only to wake up a few hours later with your body heat missing in the bed. will get up to find you in the nursery, or the kitchen, or the living room, or folding/watching laundry, staring into space with a blank stare. he gave up trying to reach out to you while you're awake, so he just stands and stares at you- taking in how beautiful he thinks you are despite the haunted shadows that have taken over your eyes. tried to tell you to come back to bed, before you sadly smile at him and say "sorry, can't sleep. probably just some weird post pregnancy sleep cycle issue. go back to sleep, i'll be there when i'm ready"
john has to get used to hugging your pillow and hope to god he can huff your scent from that to go to sleep
everything comes to a head when he catches you stiffen when he walks up behind you in the kitchen... he doesn't even reach for you, but him being close to you has you pulling at the neckline of your shirt, throwing on a jacket, adjusting the shoulder of your cardigan to cover up more of you. john's sick of not seeing your skin or feeling you anymore, so he asks what's wrong. some traded words here and there, a lot of wiping your face and folding in on yourself, and john finally scoffs, stands on the other end of the kitchen, and grinds out "love, talk to me, what did i do? i haven't bloody touched you for days. i can't sleep, i can't eat, and my heart shatters every time i look at your face and you're like a ghost! where did my wife go?!? is it post partum depression? aren't you still meeting up with that therapist? can i help? what do i do!! how do i get my wife back?!?" and you start crying- silent tears rolling down your cheeks because how can he ask that?!? how dare he act clueless and act like he didn't do anything wrong despite DESTROYING what little confidence you had left after being pregnant. you're about to respond when your alarm goes off for pumping time. you close the alarm, grab the pumping supplies, and walk off. ".... sorry john, i have to pump. let me do this n i'll come back to continue this conversation"..... but you have NEVER left the room to pump. you used to just whip your boobs out and attach the machine and let it whir away with john in the room. it's nothing he hasn't seen before, and he's helped you with clogged ducts before, so there's nothing stopping you from letting him watch. john trails after you saying that- replying with "the hell you have to leave the room for?!? you used to pump in front of me all the time?? what did i do?!? how do i get you back?!? sweetheart- i can't fix this if i don't know what's wrong?!?"
it's silent for a second, and your boobs are actually kind of starting to hurt from needing to pump. so you do it. you wait for john to keep talking when you set up the pumping supplies. when john sees your tits for the first time in what feels like weeks his breath hitches, and when he sees the first spurt of milk he groans out. you rush to cover up and look up at him bewildered and say "that!!! that's why!!! you're DISGUSTED with my boobs now- that's why everything's changed!!! look john- i'm sorry i'm not as perky, or soft, or fit as i was before i was pregnant, but i carried your fucking baby for NINE MONTHS!!!!! shit's gonna change!!! my boobs are gonna change!!! for the love of god- if you're going to be disgusted with me pumping and having breast milk i swear to GOD i will move in with my fucking mother and leave you if that'll make you happier!!! have as many perky and fit and non-mother women as you want here in our damn house if that'll help you get your rocks off"
johns heart breaks but can't figure out if he should be turned on by your anger or what the fuck to do
the baby starts screaming, you curse under your breath, before you say "... just forget it... let me go take care of her and i'll pack some stuff in the morning. i'll keep pumping and dropping milk off here until we figure out a parenting schedule or file for divorce or whatever. i can't take her out of her only home where she's comfy even though it's gonna shatter me to not be attached at the hip with her. i'm gonna go calm her down- i'll sleep in the guest room." and you stalk off
john starts genuinely crying then
.......before waiting outside if the nursery door. when you're done taking care of the baby? all bets are off.
he's pushing you into the wall and smashes his mouth to yours so hard your face hurts. he's breathing heavy and you're caught off guard and your head would have bashed into the wall if it weren't for his hand protecting the back of your skull. johns entire body is flush to yours, down to your fuckin knees. his scent crowds your space and you try to wrench your head away from him and shove his chest, before he begins just peppering your face in kisses
he says breathlessly "baby, if you ever think about leavin me," *kiss* "over some stupid shit your brain conjures up," *kiss* "ever again," *kiss* "i will hunt you down and drag you back here," *kiss* "kickin n screamin bloody murder," *kiss* "if i have to," *kiss* "... where did that idea come from, huh?" *kiss
til he fully pulls his head away, just enough to look in your eyes, and says "baby. love. dear. i think you are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the privilege of seeing in my entire life. i think you look sexiest as a mother. you're glowing, and you're all soft around the edges. you're my wife. i love you, and anything that's changed. you've carried my babe- you've taken care of her and loved her and watching you take to motherhood makes my heart and my cock swell so much im afraid they're gonna burst".... cue you crying, and giggling, and feeling his hard on grinding into the pudge of your tummy "if i ever hear you speakin about yourself like that again, i swear to all that is holy i will make you cum so hard you see stars and make you BELIEVE you're the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. i love you. if i'm honest, i never want you to not be with child ever again. you look so so beautiful all round and swollen with my babe, and the breast milk? an added bonus. fuck baby, you're so fuckin hot when i watch you pump i wanna cum in my pants like a teenager. fuck.... i lo-" he can't even finish before you smash your lips to his and drag him to bed
your next period is late. john was right. he was gonna get you pregnant again come hell or high water
......
SO LIKE IS THERE SOMETHING THERE OR AM I BEING DELUSIONAL?!?!? HELP.
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hooved · 1 year
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i know everyone's told me to rest because i'm sick but i just can't. it doesn't feel right. i need to do everything i can rn because i'm scared that any second we'll be told to get out NOW
#there's a lot of legal shit going on so i'm really unsure when exactly we'll have to leave#my mom keeps telling me to pack an overnight bag just in case and i know she's right but there's other things i need to do first#plus i'm not leaving my computer here. i'm just not. i can't. it's my most important possession. it keeps me sane if you can call it that#i need to get everything else ready before finishing getting my ''i need these with me at all times'' stuff ready#because so much shit is in the way like i still need to take out trash and do more laundry#and get more things that have already been in boxes forever out of here. also the closet door is stuck so that's a problem#i don't even care about most of the shit in my closet like i know there's stuff from my childhood in there but i don't remember what#other than that it's junk. and decorations i bought for an eventual apartment but when the fuck is that even gonna happen#i know i'm sitting here doing nothing rn as i'm typing this but i'm like mentally stuck on what to do next without my mom's help#and she's not here rn. plus there's some dude that her shitty ex is letting stay downstairs rn ? for some reason ?#and i just don't feel comfortable leaving the room to get food or take out trash or change out the laundry. it's just weird#plus i'm sick and he has a weak immune system and like. i dunno i don't wanna be responsible for that#anyway sorry i'm rambling. i know it's understandable at a time like this but i just feel bad that this is all i'm talking about rn#i'm just so fucking depressed and stressed and tired and i've barely eaten anything for the past few days#i can't even have fun or talk to any friends like i normally do. my brain won't let me and it just doesn't feel right. i can't be happy rn#for even a second. it's just not the right time. there's nothing to be happy about. i have no hope at this point that things will work out
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lilgynt · 2 months
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no i don’t care that most of my moms commutation to me especially to direct question is just straight up ignoring me or some other form of non verbal communication. like grunting or vague pointing. the glass i broke outside is unrelated
#personal#no i don’t think this affected my siblings either and that they love to ignore direct statements :)#like i’m fine with it most the time#not fine but just used to it#but i asked can you handle dog food tonight i got it this morning#and after realizing we both got it this morning i asked again if she can get it tonight or not#to be clear the understanding we both fed her was her giving me a weird look then goin back to watching tv then i said it’s a yes or no i#can do it can you just answer THEN she said she did it this morning#anyway i ask again and just keeps looking at the tv#and the only time in months she felt like cleaning the kitchen was when i was doing my taxes#so eventually i’m like fine let me go through turbo tax bc im sure im doing it wrong on the irs site#and god. god. the dog pissed on the floor i put a piss towel down so we don’t trip she immediately picks it up to wash it - which would be#fine except it’s soaking wet piss all on the floor and she’s like okay?#also speaking of the floor i deep cleaned it twice spent some of the last of the money i have for cleaners next day all fucked up with shoe#marks and dirt and i’m like mom what happened#she’s watching tv and she’s like dog peed#so from the front of the kitchen to the back door to the fridge the dog pissed all across and might i add dirt black piss with foot marks#cleaned it again but it’s already so fucking dirty#she can’t even put her laundry in the dryer#i asked her to leave so i can focus bc the plates and washing and moving things is too loud and i can’t focus i don’t tell her all that#but she starts laughing at me meanly and doesn’t even go back when i’m done#so it’s like what just bc i needed the kitchen you decided to clean??? for the first time ever???????#i’m always begging her to move her stuff bc i’m not allowed to but we’ve been balancing whatever food items we need just on top of WHATEVER#BUT THIS IS WHEN? and im telling ben im not in a good space between mom and the break in and he’s like sorry :( also you should go into#debt for mom bc i’m not which i’m really happy he’s not but im never getting out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#and he can’t comfort me about mom and frank won’t comfort me about dad and mom hates me and it just feels like none of them fuck with me at#all whatsoever and that’s so upsetting#this house is so dirty and i’m not doing great at all actually im doing awful and my whole family hates me to some degree and i wish i#wasn’t born bc like. it’s bad enough life is bad can my family like me. and im never getting out so im stuck like this forever
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
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Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagines List
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Before you ask, yes I been meaning to use @ave661 renders ever since she posted the Dad!Ghost part 2. Did I use most of them in this post? You know damn well I did.
Did I put in so much work into this one post? Yes. Am I going to be upset if it doesn't do as well as the ones I didn't put much effort in (Ahem the quokka Price imagine)? Also yes.
Tagging people who I think would like this: @puff0o0, @blingblong55. Honestly that was it but if y'all wanna be tagged in the next post then tell me in the replies :)
Parings: Ghost x Wife!Reader
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❥ Dad!Simon who values nothing else over spending time with you and your child, even if it's something as simple as him and your little one laying down on your lap while you watch tv together. (Top left pic 🥺)
❥ Dad!Simon who gives the baby a bath for the first time, doing his best not to get soap in their eyes. Him rubbing the baby's head gently with his thumb to wash the suds off the little one's head and hair while they look up at him and coo.
❥ Dad!Simon who had a heart attack the moment he heard the baby cough while they're still in the baby bath net. He just turned away for a second to grab the towel behind him, the one moment he took his eyes off them, the little rascal tried to drink the bath water.
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❥ Dad!Simon who's ever so gentle with dressing the baby, they're too little and too fragile in his eyes. Watching the baby try to chew on their own fist while he puts their little socks on. (Matching skeleton mittens for the little baby 🥺)
❥ Dad!Simon who loves hearing his baby let out such loud giggles whenever he kisses them, it's music to his ears to hear his little one let out such a hearty laugh, their little arms and legs flailing because their face is being tickled by his stuble.
❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely adores when his baby attempts kissing him or you (their momma) because it's basically just them having their tiny hands on his or your face while they're open-mouthed and almost headbutting their little lips on either yours or your husband's face.
❥ Dad!Simon who absolutely love nap time, mainly because he takes the naps with them. Nothing more sweet than waking up with the little one's life you two brought to this world.
❥ Dad!Simon who you found awake in the middle of the night to put the baby back down to sleep.
"Come on now pumpkin, you should let your momma rest. She's extremely tired of taking care of both of us.." Simon whispers while he cradles the baby in his arms, trying to lull them back to sleep.
You couldn't help but smile, knowing that what you do doesn't go unappreciated.
"I would never get tired taking care of you two" You said in a hushed tone, making Simon's head snap to the doorway.
To see you, his loving wife look at him as if he was the most important thing in this world reminded him if why he wanted to marry you a few years back.
❥ Dad!Simon who receives a video you sent him while he's deployed of the baby waking up from a nap.
❥ Dad!Simon who doesn't notice you in the room while you were trying to collect laundry, he was working out, you caught him doing push ups and your baby's attempts in copying their dad.
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❥ Dad!Simon who bought the baby a little stuffie that they now are emotionally attached to and bring everywhere, yeah the baby constantly signals Simon to kiss the stuffie too.
❥ Dad!Simon who had to train Riley not to lick the baby so much because dog slobber and even though Riley was well behaved, poor thing didn't have much of a self-control the first time you guys brought the baby home.
❥ Dad!Simon who thinks it's absolutely adorable that his little one likes Riley so much.
"Dada!" The baby called out for Simon.
"Dada, Ri-ley" They said, pointing out a little finger to your family dog.
"Yeah pumpkin, that's Riley" Simon said, letting the little one make a beeline and waddled quickly towards Riley, giving the dog a hug with their tiny arms.
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❥ Dad!Simon who spends forever looking for the skull part of his mask only to find the baby trying to chew on it, couldn't really blame them because the sight was cute and he knew how agitated they were with teething.
❥ Dad!Simon who constantly washed his gloves and almost never took it off during your baby's teething stage because god they were a strong biter. The gloves helped cushion the pain of the bites a lot.
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❥ Dad!Simon who swore his heart was about to burst when he saw you and the baby meet him before he was able to go home after deployment for a surprise. (Of course Price was the one who set it up, he wanted to see his grandchild (might as well be)
"Dadadada–dada—da" Your baby squealed out while reaching out, recognizing Simon almost too fast even with the mask on.
"Pumpkin," Simon says as he takes your baby out of your arms and into his "–yeah, dada's here now. Missed me like I missed you?" Simon asks the baby as if they could actually respond.
The little one let out a happy little gurgle, hands reaching out for Simon's face.
"I'll take that as a yes" Simon tenderly kisses the top of the baby's head through his balaclava.
❥ Dad!Simon who loves baby hugs, the tiny little arms providing a bit of warmth while he holds his baby in his, rubbing their little head with his gloved hand and fingers.
Taskforce interacting with little Ghostie
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husbandhoshi · 3 months
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title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
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depressedzelda · 2 years
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Mfw not sure if pms or anger issues
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azure-cherie · 6 months
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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.
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Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!
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Pile 1 :
Mon Amour ,
The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.
- yours completely
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Pile 2 :
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Dear love ,
In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .
- your lover
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Pile 3 :
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Hey Miss,
Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .
- always yours
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Pile 4 :
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Hey sweetheart,
I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.
- only yours forever
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Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️
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love-belle · 1 year
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king of my heart !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they finally share their little life with the world.
or
for when it's just peaceful and happy. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - loved writing this so much!! im trying to post all of social media requests first before moving onto one shots so if u requested a one shot, im so sorry for the delay, i've been busy with tests all day long. hopefully i can post them over the next couple days!! i love you, thank you for reading this. this was requested by @tbb01 hope you like it love!!
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 964,826 others
yourusername king of my heart, body and soul 🤍
tagged lewishamilton
username HELLO WHAT THE FUCK
username OH NY GOF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK OMG
username THE TAYLOR SWIFT LYRIC IM DECEASED.
carlossainz55 please tell me you told lewis that you were going to post this
-> yourusername he's gonna be surprised when he wakes up x
username THEY'RE SO AHAHSJEKKSJSKJSJS
username PARENTS
danielricciardo i see we chose violence today
*liked by yourusername*
lewishamilton a warning would've been nice baby x
-> yourusername sorry i couldn't resist x
lewishamilton i love you, thank you for being my personal paparazzi
-> yourusername anytime ❤️‍🩹
username IM SOVBINF I LOVE RHEM
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 986,627 others
lewishamilton years of being together and i manage to fall in love with you even more as time goes on. forever seemed like a long time back then but now i feel like it'll never be enough. i would walk through hell with you, for you, as long as it's you holding my hand. i love you, my love, in all my past lives, in this one and all those to come. happy 5th anniversary ❤️
tagged yourusername
username THEY'RE MARRIED?????????
username WHAT THE FUCK WHATCTHEBFUCK WHAT THE FHCK
username 5 YEARS OH MY GOD
username "forever seemed like a long time back then but now i feel like it'll never be enough" CAN YOU HEAR ME CRYING.
danielricciardo fyi y/n is crying x
-> yourusername this is exactly why ur no. saved as ABSOLUTELY NOT
username shakespeare's been real quiet since lewis wrote that caption
-> username got bro rethinking his entire career now
username this is life changing information guys u don't understand
-> username i will be telling stories of this to my kids like this is historical
landonorris mom and dad ⁉️
-> yourusername son?
-> lewishamilton we already have one but thanks
-> yourusername LEWIS OH MY GOD
-> username WHAT WHAT WHAT
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 995,427 others
yourusername dakotah antonio y/l/n-hamilton ❤️ (lewis is on the couch folding laundry and will be doing that for an entire month, thank you)
tagged lewishamilton
8,927 comments
username THEY HAVE A BABY
username WHATCTHEBFUCJ
username the way today's full of surprises like they really exposed their relationship, marriage and the fact that they're parents in a SINGLE day
username just saying but i would die for this baby
charles_leclerc missing my little man ❤️‍🩹 tell him his godfather says hi
-> danielricciardo excuse me?
-> carlossainz55 it's me obviously
-> landonorris no it's me
-> pierregasly im y/n's best friend, it's ME
-> yourusername ...
username HE'S GONNA BE SO LOVED I CAN JUST TELL
username LMFAOOO NOT LEWIS ON LAUNDRY DUTY
username im in shock rn like woah.
lewishamilton i love you ❤️‍🩹
-> yourusername love u too ig 🫤
-> lewishamilton oh
-> yourusername IM SORRY I LOVE YOU ❤️
username *sighs* ME WHEN??????!!!!!!!!!
username this is HUGE like oh my god.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 998,617 others
lewishamilton my everything summed up in two pictures 🤍
tagged yourusername
8,927 comments
username in love with this family omg
username u don't get it im SCREAMING
username baby y/l/n-hamilton is so adorable i could cry
danielricciardo so much love for you guys ❤️
*liked by lewishamilton*
username he's gonna be the most fashionable baby on the paddock i can feel it
username the day my life changed: today
username LEWIS AS A DAD I CANNOT
username y/n come home, im sure the kids won't mind a half sibling 🫤🫤🫤 u can bring your hus- 🤮 h-husba- 🤮 h-husband 🤮🤮 too ig
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*liked by lewishamilton*
username im so normal about this hahahahAhahahAHaha
username no bc im literally SO happy for them like they deserve each other fr
username cannot wait for dakotah's first time seeing his dad race omg
yourusername i love you both so much, my entire world is you
-> lewishamilton all i can say is thank you, our baby boy is so lucky to have you as his mother
username they're so in love im.
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fineprintedsunsets · 5 months
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Кролик; Bunny
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ೃ⁀➷ It's the dreaded time of month and all you want to do is curl up in bed. Your soldat has other plans. ೃ⁀➷ p in v sex. dirty talk. soldat!bucky. mentions of blood. period sex. (soldat not giving a fuck). breeding kink. mentions of pads/pain. fingering. possible typos. ೃ⁀➷ 1.2k
i hate my period so much, writing about this brute helps me cope🧸
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Oh no. No. No. Not today. Not now.
Fuck, You hate mother nature.
The sheets of your bed are stained a red hue. Little spots and specks paint the white fabric and your thighs are sticky with blood.
Your fucking period. If you had enough energy you could just slam a fist into the wall, broken bones be damned.
You whimpered and whined all the way to the shower, stomach aching, legs weak. You made sure to tear off the sheets and add them to the heaping pile of laundry in your room.
As soon as you stripped yourself of your clothes and felt the steaming water hit your skin, all was forgiven. The sound of water hitting the cheap chipped tile was so relaxing you would give everything you had to be in this state forever.
Unfortunately, a girl has a water bill.
You changed your clothes, put on low-cut shorts, and bought a shit ton of pads. It was only the first day and your flow was already heavy.
The cramps were bearable, but you could tell they were going to get a whole lot worse. Which led to your current state, in bed, lights turned off, head against a cold pillow, and blinds drawn.
An unbreakable fortress of cold pillows and snakes you managed to hoard in anticipation for this day's arrival.
You couldn’t turn on the tv, the light was harsh and irritating. So you just sat in darkness, eating Resses and groaning in pain.
Your only thought was “when would he arrive"?
“Кролик” (Bunny) a heavy voice woke you from your sleep. A familiar musk of gunpowder and him filled your head.
“You're bleeding.” He says from the shadows. You find your fingers gripping your blankets in both anticipation and fear. Your breath hitches.
He smells it, smells you.
“You need to be bred.”
Fuck.
The Winter Soldier, soldat, in his six-foot-tall frame, rounds the side of your bed. The harsh fabric of his suit, made to withstand all kinds of obstacles was now in front of your vision.
The soldat didn’t bother to take his combat boots off before sliding into bed with you. He kneeled on the mattress, denting it.
You waited in anticipation, legs slightly parted, breath coming in slow gasps as heat filled your entire body.
“Remove your shorts. Or is it too painful?” In a way, he’s mocking you, a way of saying you will always need his help. If you weren’t drunk off him right now, you’d recoil. Sober you would not have heat pooling in her core right now.
“Hurts- Soldat. Please take them off.” You wiggled your hips to emphasize. The soldats mask covers his face, muffling the groan he made when sliding the fabric off your legs.
Your body jolted when cold metal fingers met your clothed core. You tried your best to hold in the moan you held in your throat.
“Shh…quiet, кролик” You know there’s blood on your panties, you know the soldat does too.
Except, he doesn't seem to give a shit. His fingers prod at your entrance before removing your panties entirely, along with the pad stuck to them.
The soldat looks at your cunt, the mask hiding any real facial expression. You shiver from the cold air hitting your exposed folds.
He takes two metal fingers and slides them through your folds, gathering both blood and slick. The soldat purrs as you whine. “Relax -Going to hurt, stay still.”
You do as you are told, unable to stop the soldat as he places a flesh hand against your stomach, while two metal digits slide into your cunt.
"Beautiful, sweetheart.” The Soldat hums, pushing down just a little on your tummy as the digits slowly slide in and out of you. The pain eases at whatever he’s doing to you, and pleasure becomes more prominent.
You can hear the sound of your slick as he fingers you, your back arching off the bed as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to your stomach. “Good, кролик. Right there.”
“Doing so well for your soldat. -think you can cum for him? Hmm?”
Fuck. The edge is so fucking close and your itching to barrel over it. The soldier can feel your cunt squeezing his fingers and can see the look in your eyes as you're about to come.
His metal digits speed up, going at a pace that is sure to push you over the edge. He releases his flesh hand from your stomach to pinch your aching clit.
It’s over from there. “Soldat! Soldat- fuck ” you cry out, heart pumping and legs shaking as he works you through it, pumping his fingers in and out of you.
“So good for your soldat. Look so pretty when you come for him, so beautiful.” The soldat slides his fingers out of you, wiping your juices on his pant leg.
The soldier undoes his belt buckle, sliding off the weapon-studded pants and throwing them into the darkness of the bedroom. His cock is throbbing, angry, and red.
“Ready to be bred, Кролик? Take all you're given?” His boxers are next, his metal hand wraps around the waistband. The fabric is torn from his body in one snap.
Your legs shake and your hips squirm as he lines his cock up with your entrance, his body crowding over you, balancing himself with a hand on the headboard. “You're so wet. I bet I’d just…”
His cock nudges your fold, “-Slide right in.” The pain hits you immediately as the soldat bottoms out. You can hear him curse in Russian under the mask, as he rests his head on your shoulder.
Skin meets skin as he gives time for you to adjust to his size. You’ve taken him many times before, but it’s different on your cycle.
It’s like your womb opens up a little more for him.
“So good, sweetheart.” He moans, sliding out to just half of his length before snapping his hips to you. You can feel everything. Every throbbing vein on his cock, every breath he groans through his mask.
The Soldat always has a primal urge when you're bleeding, he needs to come inside you, needs to breed your cunt.
He wants to mark you as his.
“Soldat-" you moan, feeling his cock slide out another couple of inches, until he’s balls deep again, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock.
The entire bed shakes with the force of the soldat fucking you, and he fucks you hard. He’s so needy, desperate to fill you up with his seed. His moans and groans do not go unheard as his flesh hand presses on your stomach.
“Watch me fuck you, Кролик. See me sliding in and out?” All you can do is nod your head, words do not come easily.
Winter Soldier presses that hand on your tummy, pushing down as he stills, balls pressed to your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. “Feel me in your guts."
A few more thrusts has you clamping down on his cock, and when the soldier feels it, he goes fucking feral.
“Milk your Soldat's cock while he fills up your pretty pussy.” The soldier does exactly as he promises, shooting rope after rope of cum inside you.
Later, he flips you on your back so your pressed to his muscled chest, cock stuffing you full, keeping his load inside you. The Soldat mutters something like, “helps with the pain.”
And damn him, he’s right.
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russellsppttemplates · 6 months
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I know it’s very early but dad!Lando with a baby girl 🥺
Note: think of this as a sneak peak 🤭 also, this is my first Lando blurb, I hope I did well!!
Tw: postpartum, breastfeeding
"Oh, what a big stretch that one was, little one", Lando cooed at your daughter as he picked her up from her bassinet. She had just woken up from her nap, meaning he would change her diaper, feed her and have some cuddles while he took care of dinner. You had been home from the hospital for eight days now, and the routine had settled in nicely. Lando wanted to be involved as much as possible so he would often be in charge of dinner while you put Matilda to sleep and he had barely let you be the one to change her diapers as he wanted you to rest as much as possible, even when you said you could do it sitting down with a protective matt on the bed.
"You're going to be all clean, let daddy just wipe around here an- oh", he stopped his ministrations. As he wiped the skin on her lower belly, the remnants of her cord falling and sticking to the wipe, "well, that's happened now, so let's get you dressed so we can tell mummy the news. How does that sound?", he said as he grabbed a new diaper, holding her legs gently as he fastened it and put her pants back on.
"Do you think mummy's awake? You did keep us up a bit last night, but let's see. Look, she's awake", Lando said as he walked in the living room, seeing you fold some laundry, "mummy has found the basket I forgot to take to the office so she wouldn't see it", your husband blushed as you shook your head, "I can do this perfectly fine, love", you showed him, exaggerating your movements and folding techniques.
"What was it you wanted to tell me?", you asked as he sat next to you, helping you push the laundry basket to the side so you could feed your daughter, "Matilda's cord fell when I was changing her diaper", Lando said as you pouted, "That's a big milestone, baby girl! And it also means you get to have your first bath, I bet your bum will be thankful, too", you giggled at your little girl.
"The skin is a bit stained yellow, yes. We could do that tonight while dinner cooks. I can take one of mum's casseroles out of the freezer because I honestly don't feel like cooking from scratch today", he admitted, kissing your naked shoulder and looking down at your daughter, happily suckling on your nipple.
When she woke up again and Lando had just turned on the oven, you made your way upstairs to the ensuite, Lando making a stop in the nursery to grab a change of clothes for Matilda and her bath products, "sitting is fine, but kneeling down will be harder for me", you said as you cuddled your daughter's naked body against your chest, covering her with a towell for the time being.
"Why don't you get in with her, hm?", your husband whispered, looking for any sign of uneasiness and finding only comfort and acceptance as he pulled your pants down along with the disposable underwear, kissing your thighs sweetly before coming back up and helping you undo your shirt, making sure Matilda was secure as he stripped your torso of your clothing, "here, I'll hold her so you can get in", he nudged, holding the baby as you stepped inside the tub.
Once you were comfortable, he placed Matilda back against your chest, the baby cursing up against your skin, "it's okay, my love", you kissed the top of her head as Lando checked the water temperature, filling the tub enough for you to not feel cold either and grabbing the small bowl and flannel cloth so he could wet it and run it on your daughter's back, gently extending it to her limbs and her tummy, "do you like that, baby girl? It's warm and nice, smells good, too", he cooed, seeing her react to his voice as she looked around for him.
Placing the warm flannel cloth, Lando muttered "I'll be back in a second" before he got up and you could hear him looking for something in the bedroom, coming back to the bathroom with his camera, "I want to have this memory saved forever", he smiled, turning on the camera as he captured the moment.
Even though you were naked after having given birth to your baby just a few days before, you never felt more comfortable as Lando snapped pictures, kissing your cheek and Matilda's head as he found the angles he wanted.
"C'mon, little one", he said as he set the camera by the sink, "let's get you dressed", opening her towell and wrapping it around her, her embroidered name on the hood making her look deliciously cute as he set her on your shared bed, coming back to the bathroom to help you out too, "gorgeous, mummy, breathtakingly gorgeous", he complimented, kissing your lips before you out on your robe, walking to the bedroom.
Lando dried her body, putting on her diaper as you rubbed the lotion on her skin, kissing each of her fingers and smiling at your husband's attentiveness to her. Seeing the love of your life tending to your daughter was a sight to behold indeed.
"Don't you and mummy look cute in your pyjamas, Matilda?", he said as you buttoned your shirt, noticing the unintentionally matching clothes, the striped material on your shirt matching the giraffe on Matilda's bodysuit, "yes, you do! Yes, you do! C'mon, daddy gets to have cuddles with you while me and mummy have dinner", he cooed, grabbing the sling and walking downstairs with you, ready for another night in with his favourite girls.
(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)
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dre6ming · 2 months
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how would austin propose to reader?
Be mine forever?
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He’s been dreaming of this moment for so long and every time he saw himself doing something so over the top and special for Y/n, but then he’d take a step back and remember who he was actually dating
Austin’s had the ring for a while now and he carries it with him, just in case one moment feels just perfect
He tries not to think too hard about the time he almost lost the ring, when he forgot his jacket at a restaurant, right after he really felt like that was it, but then the food came and you started to gossip and talk and he forgot
Secretly you’ve known about the ring for just as long as he’s had it, you found it doing laundry, he had forgotten it in he pocket of his jeans and you felt the box right before you threw them in the wash.
At one point you get impatient, Austin gets impatient, his family (who gave him his moms ring) gets impatient, but he just can’t make up his mind
Until…..
One day you step into the apartment, expecting to see Austin greet you excitedly, but instead being met with silence.
Walking further you see a trail of petals leading from the main entrance to your bedroom and your heart rate picks up as you follow it.
The door is slightly cracked and you push it further, revealing the room to you.
The smell is what hits you first, fresh flowers, so many fresh flowers, flowers of all colors, pink, red, white, you name it.
You look around and you see pictures of you and Austin hanging from the ceiling, tears start to gather in your eyes as you remember all the beautiful moments
You hear footsteps and then turn around to see Austin, dressed in white and blue striped pajamas pants, chest naked and hair disheveled, he looks Devine
“Nine hundred ninety nine flowers, nine hundred ninety nine pictures, I thought we could make it a thousand?” He says giving you a pink peony to hold.
The ring is tied around it with pink ribbon and your hands shake.
“Be my wife, be my forever? I’ve been thinking of the best way to ask, but I should have just done the thing I knew you’d love the most, just us two, you and me.” His voice sounds like hot honey and you almost melt to the ground
“Yes!” You say breathless and he hugs you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Placing both your feet back on the ground Austin’s shaky hands take the ring off of the flower and his delicate fingers hold your left hand up, sliding the ring on.
“A perfect fit!” You whisper absently and he chuckles. “I put it on your finger once when you were sleeping, got it resized after” you laugh at his efforts and thank whatever higher force brought such a man in your life. “I love you!” You say, kissing his nose while he’s preoccupied to look at the ring on your hand, still not believing he actually did it, he finally asked you.
“Now for the one thousand picture.” Austin says, shaking his head like waking up from a dream. You furrow your brows confused as he drags you over to the bed, telling you to sit on it. “I got the camera set up, filmed everything too!” He admits, showing you the small remote used to operate the device.
He sits on the bed with you and smiles, then he hits the button on the remote and you hear the timer of the camera going. Austin takes your left hand in both of his hands and he places a kiss on you knuckles. “ I love you forever!”
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roosterforme · 8 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 14 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley's notebook reads like poetry to your soul, and some inexplicable part of you feels like it's healing. He takes the time to give you the care and attention you need, and you do the same for him. After a weekend where you let yourself live in a cozy bubble with him, work on Monday jarred you back to reality.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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Bradley was home. He'd been craving this comfort since he left, but the uncertainty of how you and he would react when you saw each other had been adding to his anxiety after the mission. He wanted to tell you all about it, but it just didn't seem as important as being near you. 
He knew you had dinner ready to reheat, and he wanted to sit with you snuggled up on his lap and share a plate of food. But first he carried you from the laundry room, both of you in your underwear, and into the bedroom with Tramp in hot pursuit. "I think both of you missed me," Bradley whispered, kissing your cheek when he set you down. 
"We did," you promised, and he dropped down to the floor to play with the dog for a few minutes. There was no way Tramp would calm down until he'd been given a little bit of attention. And then Bradley could focus on you for the rest of the night. For the rest of the weekend. Forever.
"Roo?" you asked quietly, and Bradley looked up at you as you showed him the notebook. "What is this?"
You must have taken it out of his duffle bag as you were unpacking his dirty clothes for him. When he looked up into your eyes, they looked guarded. You were apprehensive. He hated that he ever made you feel like you couldn't be exactly who you were around him. And while he never meant to share those words with you or anyone else, he found that the idea of you reading them didn't feel wrong to him. 
He was on his feet right away. "You can look at it, Sweetheart. It's just some things I wrote down while I was away. Bob kind of got me hooked on keeping a journal."
You skimmed through the pages again before you met his eyes. "The whole notebook is almost filled," you said. "And you wrote my name in here a lot."
Bradley cupped your cheeks in his hands and kissed you softly. "That's because you're on my mind more than anything else." He watched you smile, and then he added, "It's a notebook about you. About us. About how I'm going to be exactly what you need."
He kissed your forehead as you whispered, "Will you let me read it?"
Very gently, he took it from your hand and set it down on the bed. "Yes. But I need to eat dinner first. I'm starving. You know carrier food tastes like cardboard, and I've been dreaming about you sitting on my lap at our table."
When you nodded and took him by the hand, Bradley stuck to you as you led him into the kitchen and over to the refrigerator. He reached down one plate and didn't leave your side as you heated up the food. When you spun in his arms to face him, he could feel the slightly raised goosebumps on your arms; neither of you actually put any additional clothing on when you were in the bedroom. 
"You want me to go grab you one of my shirts or something?" he asked, rubbing his big hands along your arms. 
"I thought you were going to keep me warm. Are you all talk now?" Your raised eyebrow was playful, but it was time for Bradley to get serious about what was going on here. 
"Talk and action, Baby Girl. When you want me to keep you warm, I'll keep you warm. And you can read my notebook. And then we can spend the weekend working on us."
You relaxed into his touch as he soothed your goosebumps away with his hands, and soon you were perched on his lap at the dining room table. One bite of the Marry Me Rooster, and Bradley just knew he was going to gain five pounds this weekend. It was that fucking good. And it felt incredible to have you with him. He even tossed a small piece of chicken to Tramp. 
"So Jake and Cat?" he asked, kissing your bare shoulder as you took a bite of dinner. "Sounds like I missed a lot."
"Oh, you did, Roo." Then you filled him in on everything you could think of. He had to laugh at the idea of Hondo at his house, because all Bradley could imagine was the man yelling at him to do push ups in his own living room. When you mentioned Jeremiah, Bradley didn't feel as desperate as maybe he would have a few months ago. It would be nice, but he didn't need it. He needed you. 
"And you're feeling good?" he asked, pulling you a little closer as you ate the last bite of food. "You look beautiful."
"Yeah," you replied, snuggling up against his chest and shoulder, tracing his scars and tattoo with your fingers. "I feel good. I told Dr. Genevieve that I want to fix this, not throw it away. There's too much between us that's perfect."
And that was it. Bradley wasn't perfect. Neither were you, but you were much closer than he was. But somehow when the two of you mixed together, it worked beautifully until he had lost sight of making sure you were happy and taken care of. 
"Perfect," he agreed softly. "I want to be with you more than I want anything else. I need you at this point. When I realized how much I hurt you after your promotion banquet and before I left on deployment, it felt like I'd never be able to breathe correctly again." He tilted your chin up so you were looking at him as your warm hand grazed his paper airplane tattoo. "You're my wife, and you deserve my respect. And I want to take care of you. And maybe we'll have a kid someday. And maybe not. But the stress isn't what we need, Sweetheart. I'm sorry."
You scrambled around in his lap so your arms were wrapped tight around his neck. Bradley had missed this feeling. And if he was being honest, it was longer ago than the start of his two month deployment that he felt this good. But now you were crying. 
"I'm sorry I let myself hurt so much inside before I told someone about it," you sobbed. 
He squeezed you tighter until he could feel your heartbeat against his chest. "Don't apologize for that. Please. I know you're strong. I know you want to be strong. I know you were focused on getting pregnant. But we don't need that. Like I said before, I'd be lucky to get to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you. And I'll make sure you know it."
Your voice broke as you cried, and Bradley just kept holding you. He had no idea how much time passed, but eventually your breathing evened out and your heart rate slowed, and he found himself wiping tears from his own eyes. You kissed his ear and whispered, "You're enough for me, too."
And that sounded beautiful to him.
-----------------------------
When you finally climbed off of Bradley's lap, you missed the warmth of his body immediately, and he looked like he felt the same way. He jumped up, and when you reached for the dirty dish, he took your hand in his instead. "I'll clean up if you want to take a bath," he whispered. 
You tugged him closer, and he abandoned the table, soft brown eyes on yours. "Come with me?"
"Yes," he responded immediately. 
Both of you were already stripped down to your underwear, and you undressed completely as Bradley started to fill the tub. Then he stripped out of his boxer briefs and got two fluffy, yellow towels ready for when you were done. You tested the water with your toes, and then he held your hand as you climbed in. You realized you hadn't taken a single bath while he had been away. You preferred taking them with him.
"I'll be right back," he told you with a quick kiss to your forehead. And you tried to settle back against the tub, but the edge was cold against your shoulders. And the overhead light was too bright. And he was taking too long. 
But when he returned with his phone and an opened bottle of the pink champagne you had tucked away in the back of the refrigerator, you immediately felt better. His phone was softly playing a song from the ten hour long playlist he made for you when he was deployed while you were dating, and he propped it up near the towels as he handed you the bottle. Then he turned off the light, leaving only the soft orange glow from the bedroom filtering in through the door. 
"Roo," you whispered, and then he was there, easing himself into the water. With a soft grunt, he settled against the tub and pulled you close so your back rested against his chest. "You opened champagne?"
"Yeah. Being home is something to celebrate." His arms snaked around your waist and his voice was deep, chest rumbling when he spoke. And you took a sip of it. And your senses were overwhelmed. There were so many things happening at once that you loved and hadn't let yourself enjoy for such a long time. 
His voice, the bubbles on your tongue, a song you loved, the scent of your bubble bath. You felt like you'd deprived yourself for an age. "I love this," you whispered before taking another sip, and then Bradley's mustache was on your neck. 
Your eyes fluttered closed as you reached back with the bottle, offering it to him. "Nah, you have some more," he replied. "My hands are full." His arms were wrapped around your middle like he was trying to remember the exact feel of you. His knees were bent, and your body was pressed intimately to his, but all he did was kiss your neck and hold you. He sang along softly to whichever song was playing, eventually accepting the bottle of champagne when you offered it again and taking a sip. 
"I hope you don't deploy again for a long time," you whispered when you let him finish off the bottle. "Because I want to do this with you every night. Well, minus the expensive champagne."
Bradley chuckled against the curve of your neck as he adjusted himself in the tub. The slosh of water across your shoulders had you shivering as the water had cooled. "You want expensive champagne every day? I'll buy it by the case."
"I just want you."
"I'm yours." His lips were pressed to your spine. "We'll do this all the time."
A few minutes later,  you reluctantly climbed out of the tub as you shivered, and you wrapped yourself up in one of the fluffy towels. Bradley headed back into the bedroom after he brushed his teeth and kissed your cheek. As you brushed yours and removed your contacts, you thought perhaps calling it an early night was just what you needed. 
When you joined him in the bedroom, Bradley was dressed in clean underwear, and he had his worn UVA shirt on your pillow waiting for you. You slipped it on and adjusted your glasses as he pulled the covers back for you. And that's when you noticed the notebook on his nightstand. 
"You can read what you want to," he said, reaching for it and handing it over. "I'm not trying to hide anything from you. But some of this was hard for me to write. So keep that in mind."
"Okay," you whispered, opening it to the first page which you had skimmed earlier, as he gathered you against his side. And you sat there with him, leaning against the headboard as his warm hand kept you anchored as you read silently.
Baby Girl, when I think about you, I think about the rest of my life spread out in front of me. And it's not exactly like a map, because I don't know where we are going or where we will end up. But I feel safe when I'm with you. Even though so much is unknown. 
I never thought I could be enough for someone else. Enough that they would want me around or want to get to know me. I didn't know I could be important enough to be in a long relationship with someone or get married. And it makes me ache whenever your self doubt is something that I caused, because you do the opposite for me. You make me feel like I'm good enough for you. You gave me a fucking purpose. You're the reason I dropped every other bad habit I had in exchange for just the hope that you might look at me. 
"Oh, Roo," you gasped, tears rapidly filling your eyes as you dropped the notebook onto his abs and wrapped your arms around his neck. 
"You didn't even make it to the end of the first page without crying," he whispered as your tears wet his cheek. "Want me to put it away?"
"No," you said, voice shaking. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever read."
-----------------------
Once Bradley was able to wipe away most of your tears with his thumbs, your eyes were bright and focused on him. "Will you read it to me?" you asked so softly that he probably wouldn't have been able to hear you except that your lips were brushing his. He nodded gently and gathered you against his side again. When he picked up the notebook, he felt himself flushing from embarrassment. 
It was so personal. It was one thing when you were reading it to yourself, but hearing himself say the words that he had written? Out loud? He gently cleared his throat and took a deep breath, picking up where you left off. As soon as he spoke, your arm tightened across his chest.
"And then you did look at me. Like I was someone who was worth your time. And you spoke to me like my words could be important to you. And you touched me like you'd be careful with me. And you kissed me like you didn't want it to stop. And then I started to feel different, like maybe I appreciated myself a little bit more. 
I wanted to kiss you that first night at the Hard Deck after I bumped your stool. I wanted to do a lot more than that. Sometimes I wonder what you would have done if I had tried it. I couldn't stop thinking about you after that. For days, weeks. Fuck, I still think about that night. I still can't stop thinking about you. If I could just kiss you right now and feel the weight of your hands on my body, then I would be fine. My problems would feel manageable, because I would be with you. 
You deserve to have a husband who takes the pressure off of you, not one who adds more. And if you'll just give me one more chance to show that I understand that, I won't waste your time.
You've always been different. You've always been what I wanted whether I deserve you or not."
He stopped at the end of the first page and set the notebook aside. That was enough for one night. He was exhausted, and you were crying again. And he wasn't exactly sure if they were good tears or the worrying kind. 
"Baby Girl, are you alright?" he asked, rubbing his hand along your back as you nodded into his neck.
"Yeah," you whispered, sniffing as you tried to speak. "I just never heard you talk about me so.... matter of factly."
Bradley laughed softly. "That's because the notebook was really supposed to be for me."
"I like it too much," you said, rubbing your forehead against his cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he promised as you snuggled in for the night. He pulled the blanket up higher over both of you, and before he actually turned the light out, he picked up the notebook one more time. "Close your eyes. There's one more page I want to read to you right now. But you have to promise you'll go to sleep right afterwards, because I'm already a little embarrassed just thinking about it."
"Okay."
Bradley licked his lips as he located the correct page in the middle of the notebook and scanned it before he started reading very softly. 
"My life feels like a dream. Like an actual goddamn dream. The kind I started to have shortly after my mom died. The ones where she was there, and I could feel her touching my hair and holding my hand. I was missing that kind of touch that kept me grounded, because I felt so out of control in my own skin too much of the time. 
I didn't think I was starving for attention or affection. The surface kind wasn't hard to come by. I just didn't know there could be more. And then I met my wife, and maybe I always knew she was going to be my wife someday. The way I stuttered and couldn't walk correctly when she looked at me. The way her smile and the curve of her cheek made me think about touching her. The way her voice filled my mind when I was alone. Fuck. I didn't know. I had no idea. I was absolutely starving for this kind of affection."
You were asleep, your breathing even and calm. And Bradley felt like he could sleep now, too. Once the light was turned off, he very carefully took your hand and laced his fingers with yours. "Roo," you murmured in your sleep, wrapping your leg around his a little tighter. 
"I love you." He kissed your knuckles and your rings, and then he dozed off, too.
-------------------------
Bradley was beautiful in the morning light. His cheeks were a little rosy from sleep, and his lips were gently parted, face turned toward you. When you stroked his mustache gently with your thumb, a soft smile appeared on his lips. Something had helped heal part of you overnight. Maybe it was the notebook. Or the bath. Or just having him with you after weeks of feeling so uncertain. But you felt lighter. You had slept so soundly. 
When you tried to roll away and let him sleep longer, his arm tightened around you like a vice, and you squeaked. "Stay with me," he rasped. That voice went right through you and made your body stand at attention. Your nipples were tight peaks, and you had to squeeze your thighs around his left leg where your bare core was rubbing him like you had no control of yourself. 
You whimpered. You couldn't help it. He was looking up at you, his brown eyes wide and suddenly alert. "Sorry," you gasped, your thighs tightening around him again. You ducked your head in embarrassment, but Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your palm before sliding it down his warm body underneath the blanket. He leaned up to kiss your lips as your fingers skimmed along the front of his boxer briefs. He was hard, and now you had no idea why you were apologizing to him. You dipped your hand inside the elastic and whispered, "I want you," as you wrapped your fingers around his heavy erection. 
Wordlessly, he rolled you onto your back, keeping his left thigh wedged in place where you were wet now. He kissed your lips gently, tucking his fingers behind your neck and letting them tangle with your necklace chain. "I need you," he swore. "Need."
You nodded your head slowly and arched your back so he could push the soft tee shirt up a little higher. You knew how good it could be with him, and it had been so long since he'd been this tender. He kept that one big hand at the back of your neck while the other roamed your body, and he took the time to touch you everywhere. Sometimes his lips were on yours. Sometimes he was just watching your face as you made soft noises just for him. 
When his gaze traveled down your belly, you felt him trace your dainty, single line rooster tattoo with the tip of one finger. He traced it over and over again, the sensation just on the verge of being ticklish. But all he was doing was stoking your desire for him. He leaned down and kissed you just below your belly button. "We belong together," he whispered, worshipping your belly and hips with his mouth. "And I want to hear you say it."
You took a ragged breath as he kissed your thigh and dragged his mustache along your pussy. When you bucked off the bed for him, he grunted and kissed his way up until he was nudging the shirt over your breasts, exposing your taut nipples. 
"We belong together, Bradley," you moaned as his lips wrapped around your nipple. His fingertips felt rough on your other breast, but his touch was still tender. And you didn't care that you were rubbing your core along his thigh, nudging his length over and over again. Because he was grunting your name and licking long stripes across your breasts. 
When he looked up at you with the warmest eyes, you took his face gently in your hands, and guided him to your lips for a kiss. "Please," you whispered. "Oh, Roo. Please forgive me for the last time we had sex. I should have never treated you or us like an obligation."
His lips mashed against yours with a need that took your breath away. He wasn't an obligation. Your husband was as urgent and crucial as your own heartbeat. He was a necessity. He was something you needed to cherish. "I love you. I love you." 
"I'll never stop," he promised as you reached down, bumping his cheek with your nose, and eased the waistband of his underwear down. When you nodded, he didn't hesitate. Bradley guided himself inside you, stretching you and filling you. The slow, intentional roll of his hips left you smiling as you raked your fingers through his hair. This felt the way it used to. And Bradley was smiling, too. Kiss after incredible kiss. And there was no rush. No expectations. Just sweet morning sex with your husband after eight weeks apart. 
And he knew what to do, because he knew every inch of your body and every noise you made. He made you cum as you ground up against him, your fingers tight in his hair. "Oh god!" you whined, that gorgeous clenching feeling rocking through your core. His thrusts grew shallow as he tipped his head to hold eye contact with you as he came. 
He whispered a ragged, "I love you, Baby Girl," before he tucked his face against your neck while you held him. It was perfect. He gave you exactly what you needed like a wrapped gift you wanted to keep opening. 
"Can we... could we just be like this again?" you asked him after a moment. 
There was no hesitation to his response. "Yes."
You traced his scars with your fingers and kissed his forehead until you thought maybe he had fallen asleep with his cock still cradled inside your body. But he ran his hand along your arm and whispered, "I'm happy I'm home with you. I'll make your coffee." 
And two sweet kisses later, he gently withdrew himself and climbed out of bed. You watched him pull his boxer briefs back up, and then he smiled at you before Tramp followed him out of the room. You gave yourself a minute alone in bed. The passages in that notebook made you feel like Bradley had set you down on a pedestal. You felt like a priority again. And he seemed more than willing to listen to you and talk to you about the things that needed to change. Dr. Genevieve was going to be so pleased when you spoke with her again. 
When you walked into the kitchen in your tee shirt with Bradley's sticky cum on your thighs, you gasped. "What did you do?"
Your French press was broken on the counter, and Bradley was cleaning up spilled coffee with paper towels. "You weren't supposed to come out here yet," he said, wincing. "I got one good cup out of it before I broke it. Your breakfast is on the table." 
You walked into the dining room to find a plate with two pieces of burnt toast and jelly along with one mug of steaming coffee. You laughed and called him in with you. "Just let me make lunch, okay?" 
"Yeah," he agreed as you pushed him down onto the chair and climbed onto his lap. You fed him a bite of very crunchy toast as he added, "I ordered you a new French press already. Stainless steel this time. My hands were always a little too big for this one. And I can't even believe I like this fancy shit." He took a sip from the mug. "And sorry this toast is disgusting."
You couldn't stop laughing at how normal this felt. "Like I said, I'll make lunch." He let you finish the rest of the coffee as he traced a little pattern along your bare thigh. 
"What are we doing today?" he asked, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.
You just shrugged. "I mean... I didn't really have anything planned, because I was just so anxious for you to get home. But if you want to go out, I'll have to clean all your cum off my legs."
He just shook his head. "Let's stay in all weekend until we have to go to work on Monday morning. And you can just keep my cum anywhere you feel like."
You giggled as you stuffed the last bite of toast into his mouth, and it looked like he was going to cry. Then you just sat in the dining room with him and played with his hair for a while. Having no plans and nothing to do would hopefully give you both the opportunity to talk through some more things, but when you yawned, Bradley scooped you up and carried you back to the bedroom. 
"Let's take a nap," he whispered, like it was a secret you should keep from the rest of the world. And you supposed it was as he wrapped you up in his arms. You fell asleep with his hands tucked up inside your shirt and his lips on your neck. 
----------------------------
Bradley knew there was still a lot to talk about. Every time you asked him for more details about his deployment, he was hesitant to mention Slayer or Admiral Dean or anything that happened. This reunion weekend was everything he had hoped it could be. A lazy Saturday lunch out on the back patio. Sex in the shower. Cuddling on the couch. And Bradley reading to you from the notebook. 
Sometimes you cried, sometimes you held him. Once you gave him a blowjob while he was reading it to you. No, this weekend felt like you and he were getting back to basics, and he didn't want to ruin it with deployment talk. That shit didn't matter now that he was with you again. 
"Will you read another page to me?" you asked after lunch on Sunday, leading him back to the bedroom. "And then you can tell me more about your deployment?"
"Anything you want," he promised, pulling you down into bed with him. He found the bookmarked spot and opened up to that page, and as you kissed his cheek, he started to read.
And the words meant something important to you. He could tell. Even though it was hard to do, he kept working his way through the notebook. You already had some favorite passages that he dog-eared for you. He'd read the same thing to you as you fell asleep on Friday night and on Saturday night. And you kept telling him that you loved him. 
After he finished reading and set the notebook aside, he kissed the tears away from your cheeks and rolled you onto your back. You bit your lip as you looked up at him and said, "You know how you told me that you'd be okay with just us? Just me and you? If I never get pregnant?"
"Yes," he replied easily. While he knew this topic had been just below the surface, he honestly hadn't given it too much thought all weekend. He felt like he was back in honeymoon mode, just trying to make you smile. 
"You meant it?"
"Yes. I'd rather be happy here with you than have anything else any day of the week."
You seemed to accept his answer as you raked your fingers through his hair. "Roo, I... don't think I want to stop trying. But I don't want to have to focus all of my energy on it. I don't want to constantly think about my cycles and my fertility like before."
"I agree," he replied. "I want us to have sex when we want to, just like we've been doing all weekend. Because it's fun, and I love it. And I love you. And if you get pregnant, then we'll figure it out. And if you don't, then we'll still be perfect. Or we can talk to a doctor together at some point. Or not. We don't have to decide that yet. We can be just us, Sweetheart."
"Just us," you reiterated. 
"And Tramp."
"Well, obviously," you said, turning to look where he was lounging on his little bed. You were smiling when you looked back at Bradley. "Let me feed you leftovers for dinner."
"Thank you for not making me eat any more toast of my own making," he whispered.
You laughed. "I love you too much for that."
After another shared plate of dinner and dozens of kisses, Bradley coaxed you into the living room to watch a movie. He put on one of your favorites and smirked as you shimmied out of your shorts and underwear before joining him on the couch. "What are you doing?" he rasped, lounging along the length of the couch. He tucked his hands back behind his head and let you untie his gray sweatpants and pull them down to his knees. He had skipped underwear at your insistence, and now he was twitching for you.
You carefully straddled his waist, and Bradley's erection was tapping you eagerly on your ass. "Warming your cock?" you asked so innocently, leaning down to kiss his nose. "Is that okay?"
Bradley groaned and said, "Hell yes." He slowly slipped his cock into your pussy, and he closed his eyes and counted to ten as you wigged around before settling chest to chest with him. You seemed half focused on the movie, preferring to press gentle kisses to his face and neck instead as you held hands. The soft clenching of your pussy around him as you loved on him was almost too much. But he didn't want it to stop. He focused all of his energy and attention on you while the movie played.
"You're making me feel so good, Baby Girl," he crooned, stroking your cheek while you kissed and licked along the scars on the side of his neck. "I love this body," he added, squeezing a nice handful of your ass. 
You moaned softly, and he enjoyed the fluttering feeling of your arousal as you told him how much you missed him. You rolled your hips with the occasional soft thrust, and Bradley just remained rock hard and ready for you to take this wherever you wanted to. You were soaking wet and warm and inviting. And when the movie ended you started to fuck him, your eyes closing as you came after a few strokes. 
You started shivering in Bradley's arms as you said, "You felt too good. I couldn't go any longer."
He held you in place and thrust up into you. "My only goal is to make you feel good in every way." But then he was panting, and he only lasted a few more strokes too, after spending so long inside you. And your fingers were in his hair and your lips were on his cheek, and he didn't know how he was supposed to help himself when you loved him like this.
When you started to shift, Bradley grabbed your hips. "Don't move, don't move," he begged. "Just let me stay like this. For a minute." 
Your cheek came to rest on his chest as you traced his paper airplane tattoo and sighed. And all he wanted to do was skip work all week and keep this going.
-------------------------------
Monday morning was an obnoxious wake up call after the weekend spent with Bradley. You'd taken a few minutes to call your parents so they could talk to Bradley. Then another bath rounded out Sunday night, followed by listening to him read another two pages from his notebook. His words were poetry, and when you told him that, he laughed. But they were the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard in your life, so you thought it was actually a pretty good description of what he had written. 
The two of you got dressed in your uniforms in the morning, and Bradley apologized again for the broken French press and placed a Starbucks pickup order for you to grab on your way to work. And then the two of you made out in the living room. You just made out with your husband with no further expectations than simply enjoying his lips on yours and his hands on your butt and the little sound of your nametag tapping his pins. 
"We need to leave," he whispered before sucking on your bottom lip. Your fingers had messed up his tidy hair, and you were going to work with puffy lips now. 
"I can be a little late," you told him, making him laugh. So he backed you up against the wall and kissed along your neck until you were giggling from the prickle of his mustache. 
You eventually made it to work with your fancy coffee and a smile on your face. Bradley hadn't mentioned anything about your cycle all weekend long. You felt a brand new energy humming through your body. Cat laughed when she saw you, and you wanted to ask if she'd talked to Jake. You also wanted to see your friends at lunch, but there was honestly too much to get done. Tomorrow would be another day. Today you'd get as much of your work done as you could and then go home to Bradley. 
You worked straight through until almost three o'clock when you were sitting in the lab, finalizing some math before it was submitted. Your computer pinged with an email from your boss's boss's boss. You almost never heard from Admiral Yates directly. You tapped it open and your blood ran cold. This had to be some sort of mistake as you skimmed down to the second paragraph.
I need the audio communication pulled from the special mission on the USS Theodore Roosevelt from April 21st, and I need the coding to be verified on everything before it is submitted. Have it ready by midnight tonight. This is for the court-martial of ADM. BECKETT DEAN and LT. HARRIS "Slayer" HAINES (docket MT47489). This is regarding the incident involving LT. NATASHA "Phoenix" TRACE, LT. ROBERT "Bob" FLOYD, LCDR. BRADLEY "Rooster" BRADSHAW....
There were more names, but you couldn't read them. You almost fell out of your seat after you saw your husband's name listed as part of a group involved in some sort of incident. Something bad enough that comms needed to be verified. And then it occurred to you that as many times as you had asked Bradley for details about his deployment, he had given you none. The perfect bubble of the weekend felt like it just popped in your face. You thought you might throw up as you dug your phone out of your pocket.
------------------------------
I feel like Roo and BG can breathe again! But maybe he should have taken the time to talk about his deployment. Oh, Bradley. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 15
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whimsyfinny · 4 months
Text
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean
Chapter Word Count: 4211
—-MDNI—-
A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.
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Please read the below first:
Prologue Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Chapter 6 Chapter 7
I’m Not Your F*cking Maid
Chapter 8 - Part 1
Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.
Dean.
My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.
I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.
“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.
“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.
“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”
I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.
“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.
“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.
“Or is this a pizza man situation?”
“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.
“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”
“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.
“What?”
“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.
“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”
“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.
“Yeah, she did.”
“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”
My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.
“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.
“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.
“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.
“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.
“I smell no pie here.”
“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.
“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”
He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.
“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”
“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”
“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”
“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.
“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”
He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.
“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.
“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”
*
Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.
“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.
I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.
“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.
*
A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.
“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.
“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.
“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.
“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.
“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.
“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”
“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.
“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.
“Sure I’m in.”
“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.
“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”
I scoffed.
“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”
“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”
I turned back to Charlie.
“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.
“Absolutely!”
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Up Next:
Chapter 8 part 2
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gyllenhaalstories · 4 months
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ELWOOD DALTON x PLUS SIZE!READER HEADCANONS
summary: if he can push and pull a big obnoxious yellow lamborghini, imagine what he can do!!! well, you don't need to imagine. i did it for you. but still!!!
warnings: bunch of cute things & various smut elements. chances are i'll steal some of these in my fics later on bc i love repeating myself but i felt inspired to gather the random thoughts in one place. 18+ NO MINORS.
word count: 2100
photo credit: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics
notes: even if all my fics are written with a fat reader in mind, it just feels so good to put the emphasis on it! this is so incredibly self-indulgent and i am not sorry about it. 🥰 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!
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FLUFF
Dalton wears very form fitting clothes, like his vast collection of the tightest shorts imaginable that he's worn on the octagon. But you will notice a gradual shift in his clothing preferences. The more he hangs out with you, the looser his clothes will get. Especially his hoodies and his patterned shirts. You will also notice how he accidentally leaves pieces of clothing at your place when he visits. He just likes to drop hints that he wants you to wear his clothes because he wants you to wear his clothes.
The first time he catches you putting on his hoodie if you're feeling a bit chilly or wearing his flowery shirt on a hot day? He's losing it. He'll have a dumb smile on his face all day because this is a big victory just like winning a fight. Maybe even more so when you start sharing clothes casually.
Also he's large. He just is. He takes space both literally and metaphorically. He makes you feel small in the best way. He opens jars for you in a twist of his wrist, he carries all the bags in one trip after grocery shopping, he shoves the laundry basket full of heavy wet clothes on his hip and holds you close with his free arm so you can hang clothes to dry outside. When Dalton locks eyes with you, he just has a way of making you feel so much smaller than him. This size difference, whether it be literal or not, feels good. It feels right. He will never shut up about it, if you ever tell him that you like the size difference. He might love it as much as you.
One of his love languages is you tending to his injuries and wounds. The lovely sound of your voice as you reprimand him and tell him he's too old to break into fights at any minor inconveniences. The gentle touch of your hands when you're cleaning him up with a washcloth and wincing at how much it must hurt... Except it barely hurts anymore he's just so used to it, although he might say it does so you baby him a little more. The adorable band-aids you put on him that he wears like a badge of honour. Eventually, you learn to carry a first-aid kit with you as often as you can. Just in case.
Beach dates. Did I say beach dates? Beach dates. He loves them. Dalton loves to hang out by the ocean and watch the sun rise and set. He loves it even more when you're with him. Holding hands or with his arms wrapped around you, he loves to share this moment with you. It feels so intimate. You can see him in his most peaceful and relaxed head space where the chaos of the Road House doesn't seem to affect him. He could stay there with you forever, with your feet in the water and the ocean breeze tickling your face.
He'd love to invite you to hang out at the Road House during his shifts, but he rarely lets you visit him at work. He's scared you will get injured or hurt by one of the drunk idiots or worse. He prefers to know you are safe and sound, far away from all the danger.
Dalton still tries to spend a lot of time with you. He likes it when you drive his car around and he can just be the passenger princess and enjoy the view, which means you. He likes it when you cook meals and desserts he hasn't had in forever due to years of intense training and strict diets. He'll always be around you to taste the food or steal a bite of a burning hot cookie that is fresh out the oven. The small things are very important for him.
Small things like slapping your butt when he walks behind you, and you doing the same when the roles are reversed. Small things like going shopping for the most obnoxious shirts that scream elderly dad on vacation vibes. Small things like dropping him off and picking him up when he works at the Road House. Small things like bringing you with him when he trains so that you can just exist in his presence, within a safe distance, and so that you can look at him when he gets all hot and sweaty. Small things like you laughing at his jokes about how everyone seems a little aggressive when he casually beats people up for a living. Small things like telling you that you smell so good and getting new perfumes so when he wears his clothes and you were his, he gets to carry your smell all day long. Small things like looking at you with big doe eyes and a dumb little grin on his face because he likes you so much. He likes the little things, because so often in his life he was living on the edge and he was depraved of those calm, harmless, insignificant little droplets of happiness.
What is the most important thing for him? Protecting you. He is so protective of you. Dalton wants to make sure you are safe and that you aren't involved in any shenanigans he gets himself into. He wants to make sure that nobody and nothing can hurt you. He's quick to remind anyone who crosses your way that they should be minding their own business. It may cause some issues between you, you have to remind him that you are a grown adult and that you can take care of yourself. He believes you, he knows you're strong and capable of anything you want to achieve, but he can't fight his protective instincts. He takes your security and your well-being very seriously. He wants you to know that he cherishes you, that he loves you and that he cares for you.
SMUT
Dalton is a big fan of proving you wrong, but with gentle persuasion. When the two of you start hooking up and dating, he will not put on too big of a show because he's scared to hurt you. He'll start slow, let things escalate at their own pace. He'll pull you closer by the hand for a kiss, surprising you by how he does that so effortlessly. He'll bring your body closer and wrap his arm around you to keep you pressed against him while you cuddle. He'll pull on your ankles to get you closer to the edge of the bed. He'll flip you over on the bed after a little warning that barely gives you enough time to register what he did. He'll hook his arms under your thighs to stop you from squirming away after he makes you cum and he doesn't want to stop just yet.
As much as he wants to chase the high, to show you just how much he can do and how far he can take you, he does it all gradually. He checks in often, maybe too many times at first. Tons of "are you alright? you good, you wanna continue? did it hurt, are you okay?" will be spoken to make sure he doesn't hurt you accidentally. He'll be careful not to hurt you, unless you ask him to.
He's flexible and he will adjust to your body. He'll make it work. You don't have to worry about it. If he can hold his opponent down like a pretzel until they tap out, he certainly can do the same to you. He'll push on your thighs to hold your legs down. He'll spread your pussy open and grunt at how you react when his nose bumps against your clit or when you whimper while he licks your puffy pussy lips. He'll pull on the skin of your cheeks to keep your ass open so he can access what he craves. He'll praise you when you help him, making it easier for him to fuck you good like you deserve.
On the topic of flexibility, he'd love to help you out with yours if you want to. He'll teach you exercises and show you how to relax your body. He'll also respect your limitations. You won't catch him be mad when you say your stomach is in the way or that you struggle to ride him so he has to use you as a fleshlight while you're on top. However, you will catch him rolling his eyes if you say you can't open your legs wider while he knows full well that you do when he's fucking you.
He loves when you sit on his face, no matter how many times he must remind you that he can take it, that you won't hurt him, that he can hold his breath long enough until you coat his tongue with your wetness. He enjoys every second of it.
He's loud. Dalton is a grunter. He grunts when he's fucking you deep with slow but rough thrusts. He grunts when he pulls out so he doesn't cum too fast at the heavenly feeling of your pussy on his hard cock. He grunts when he feels you gag around his cock. He grunts when he tastes your pussy on his tongue and feel your clit pulsate while he sucks on it. He's so fucking loud and he will do whatever he can to make you as loud as him. He wants you to get lost in the moment and forget about your fears and insecurities. He wants you to ride the waves of your orgasms with him until both of you forget how to speak and you can't take it anymore.
The things he must have seen and touched during his career in the UFC make it so that he's unbothered by extra skin to move around, or pretty much anything of the sort. He'll find a way to always make it work and he won't complain. In fact, he loves it. He loves feeling your body on him. He loves the skin-to-skin contact, the closeness. The sweat, the friction, the more he gets the more he wants.
He swells with pride and happiness when he sees you trying to process of the aftermath. Out of breath, flustered, shocked, stuck somewhere between needing three business days to recover and wanting to do it all over again right away. He loves seeing you fucked out of your mind, blissful and satisfied. Dalton loves knowing that he's the one helping you get there, helping you feel so good.
And he knows you love admiring him just as much. The feeling of worship is very much so mutual. He adores the marks, pearls of sweat and trails of euphoric tears he leaves on you. And you adore to watch his muscles and veins bulge after he's had his way with you.
Unlike his trainings of his fights, he doesn't end up in a human sized bucket of ice, but he loves the ritual of cleaning up in the shower or taking a bath with you. He loves to gently touch your body, paying close attention to where his hands might have left bruises earlier. He loves to show you his love with his touch rather than with his caring words or worried questions. It makes Dalton's heart flutter when you do the same, when you soap up his toned body and you wash away the mess of sweat and cum you made together. It often ends up with the two of you going at it again, or simply just jerking each other off with no intention to cum but rather to just feel closer and relax while the hot water heals your bodies.
To put it briefly, Dalton is built for the plus size girlies. He's got the strength, he's got the stamina. He's got it all to make you feel good, to make you feel like you're the hottest person alive because, to him, you very much so are. He cares for you and wants to make you feel comfortable. The more he explores your body and the more he discovers what you love and how to make you moan louder and cum harder, the freakier he will become. Dalton likes it hot and dirty, but he also loves it deep and passionate. He's gonna adapt to what you like and what you can physically do. He's gonna put in the work. He's gonna do what it takes to make you cum so hard you feel like he knocked you out in the best way possible.
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bendycxmet · 4 months
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Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!
How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3
MY FIRST ASK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FOR THE ENTIRE DAY!
i am doing well! thank you for your support! <33
i usually take forever to write a piece, but ur ask inspired me and had me thinking all day on how to go about this. so hope you enjoy this! thank you for the request!
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Sweet Dreams
Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and donning one of Vash’s shirts, you throw your towel over your head, continuing to dry off your head while you peered out into the room. Vash lounged on the motel bed, arms thrown behind him to support his head, lean legs sprawled out and taking up the entire mattress. He was whistling a tune you didn’t recognize, one eye closed while the other surveilled you in the opening of the steaming door. 
“Ya sure you didn’t wanna take a shower? There’s still some hot water left,” you offered.
“Nah, got too comfy waiting here for you. I’ll take one in the morning.” 
He closed his other eye, humming the tune now. He did look comfy. A little too comfy. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the mischievous glimmer in your eye. The pattering of your feet was his only warning as you dove for him, body landing atop his, an ‘oof!’ sounding from him as your body weight collapsed on his chest. You were cackling at the noise he made, wrapping your arms around his waist as his fingers tickled your sides.
“Not fair! You attacked a defenseless man!”
“Getting comfortable without me, handsome? Ay! Stop it!-” 
His fingers didn’t stop their wriggling assault, only ending when you began to retaliate. 
“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He coughed a laugh out. “Mm, you smell nice. I haven’t smelled this soap before. Where’d you get it?” He twirled a wet piece of hair between his fingers.
“Oh I didn’t tell you! I met this vendor at the market earlier! While you were off looking for your donuts, the smell of the loveliest lavender drew me in.”
Vash hummed along to your story, indicating that his attention was still 100% on you as he played with your hair. He breathed in the calming scent on your skin and hair, allowing it to sway him to sleep slowly. You rambled on and on about how the vendor made the soap, the techniques and oils she used to bring out the herb. 
“But I got her card so we can go back and get you a soap! I do love how you smell Vash, it’s almost like you have a sort of gene that prevents you from smelling bad.” You turned your nose further into his shirt, inhaling the raw smell of him–sunshine with notes of something earthy…petrichor, or something along those lines. It grounded you every time. “But geez, would it kill you to wash your laundry sometimes?! You stink!” you lied, teasing a finger into his chest.
He yelped, abruptly awoken by your harsh jabbing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it up to kiss it, splaying your hand open with his own, observing the size difference. 
“We can do a laundry day tomorrow. I saw the laundromat wasn’t too far off from us, so we can easily carry our loads there.” He sighed, a content smile plastered on his face at the domesticity you two indulged in. He entwined your fingers, bringing it to the side of his face. “That reminds me! I got us donuts for the morning! You should’ve seen the options, I mean. I was in heaven, Mayfly. Powdered, glazed, cake-”
He let your hand go as he gestured in the air, passionate about the change in subject.
It was Vash’s turn to ramble. And once he started on his favorite topic–donuts–there was no stopping him. The deep timbre of his voice held some power. His voice always became deeper late into the night, hinting that he was getting tired; but it seemed to lower your heart rate, lower your defenses and diminish the adrenaline you had from a busy day. The warmth of the day seemed to never leave him, his body heat encompassing the parts of you that touched him. You tucked your legs closer to his body as the coldness of the desert night reached for your feet. 
One of his arms was wrapped around you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. The other was busy with your arm on the opposite side, fingers lightly grazing up and down. The security you felt in his presence never failed to put you to sleep. 
You hummed one last time, eyes softly closing at his praise for a certain jelly doughnut. You promised in your head that you were only shutting them for a minute. What lies you told yourself.
“But I got your favorite! It might have a bite in it, but I saved the majority of it for you! I know you’ll like it, because I know you, hehe…um. Mayfly?” 
Your soft snores alerted him that you stopped paying attention to his tales of the day. He peered down his nose at you, love clearly painted into his features. Your eyelashes were long from this angle, gently laid out on your sun-kissed skin. Your lips were parted, soft breaths felt on his chest as you breathed in his scent on each inhale and exhaled the minty paste from your nighttime routine. He’s told you plenty of times before, but if only you knew how beautiful you looked in his eyes. 
He felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the chill in the air. He reached down to grab the comforter, pulling it up to your shoulders. You shifted slightly, stilling in the creases of his warm neck that was now heating your cold nose. He giggled at the temperature difference, arms also wrapping around your waist as he settled further into the sheets.
He had to admit, his exaggerated noise and fuss at your sudden dive from earlier was only a ruse. He loved the nights you chose to sleep tucked into his side, but he delighted in the nights you chose to smother him, arms always wrapped around him. He had days to live for with you, but there were always nights to live for as well.
“Sweetest of dreams, Mayfly.”
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A/N: side note! i am open to requests! i think they're super fun and it really does get me motivated to write more :)
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small-sinclair · 11 months
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“My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something.”
Sinclair Brothers x fem!y/n
Enjoy @katerinaval
Tw: PTSD shown, anxiety filled reader, mention of marking, throwing up, confronting abuser, fighting, biting, not proofread
Welcomed readers: @sketchy-rosewitch, @fluffy-little-demon, @lovely-cryptid, @pori0t-houck, @ninakuli
Don’t Own Me
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She was able to run this far, and it was a great time, too. Finding her new life in Ambrose with the Sinclairs to share her felt like a dream, and y/n knew that dream would come to an end. She couldn’t run forever, but she tried and tried until her legs caved in and she went under the cracks in the hour glass. Shame, she liked her new family, new pack that she called her own.
All three claimed her as soon as she came to town. After Bo bit her shoulder, claiming her first, his brothers soon followed, each taking turns with her until she felt safe enough to allow it though she never had a word to who gets to claim her, these three took time to make sure she felt safe with it. Vincent took her left shoulder, biting just hard enough to make his mark, but he made sure her scars were taken care of. Lester, however, didn’t mark her like Bo or Vincent. Instead, he made her a necklace, a wooden butterfly charm with his initials carved on the wings. Besides, having one Alpha was good, but her mind raced when she was claimed by two Alphas and a goofy Beta. What a lucky girl you are, y/n.
The perks? Y/n never felt alone or was never truly alone. There was always someone there to hold her hand, to comfort her, check on her… to feel and be loved.
The mornings were always the same: Lester, the Beta, wakes her with gentle kisses and nudges. When she wakes, y/n is with him in the kitchen cooking breakfast for the other two, Bo and Vincent.
Strong coffee in Snoopy mugs. Morning news on. Jonesy feed and let out (sometimes she returns with a rock in her jaws as a gift for y/n). Morning kisses from Bo and Vincent. Eggs and hot dogs. The day’s plan. Vincent leaves, followed by Lester (who has a thermest of coffee and a sack lunch), and Bo stays behind to help you with dishes. As always, he dried while she washes. Small talk or no talk, it didn’t matter; she was safe. He takes his cap off the hook. He hugs and kisses her goodbye until lunch.
Throughout the day, y/n keeps busy in the house cleaning or getting dinner ready. On full moon days, she makes sure there’s enough food, and her headphones have to be fully charged or she’s not running through the brush (y/n has to put her foot down somewhere, right?). But it’s not a full moon night; it’s Thursday, Laundry Day. And it’ll be a warm enough day to hang clothes on the line earlier in the morning, giving her time in the afternoon to hang out with all three if she’s lucky.
She hummed happily as she put up Vincent’s shirt and sweater on the line as the morning sun turned the grass from gold to green. The radio played softly from the steps, Jonesy laying at the steps with her new rock.
“What a clever girl,” y/n hummed as she patted her head. “Always bright and happy. Such a good girl—“
A good girl, indeed.
Her head perked up and she looked at the trees and the marsh. Scared eyes scanned over the willows and morning glories. His voice carried over the trees and gators floating in the marsh. Y/n hesitantly took steps back as the honeydew and marsh water smell drifted over her skin and hair, feeling his fingers in his hair again.
Y/n doesn’t hesitate to run into the house, Jonesy on her heels. He’s not here, she kept telling herself. He’s not… he can’t be!
She took her red and black plaid off the hook and started out the house towards the shop. It’s 10:30am, which means Vincent and Bo are taking their smoke break while Lester finishes up his last bit of coffee. If he has anymore for the day, his heart might explode. Still, she ran towards the shop, her feet digging into the lose gravel. She just wants to run, to be near them. They promised to keep you safe from everyone and everything, and they didn't want to go back on it even if she thought she heard him.
But time is limited in a town like this and to the Sinclairs. It was only a matter of time before she was founded by him, and she wasn't looking forward to it. Bo knows his scent. Vincent knows what he looks like. Lester knows what he sounds like. All three knew the plan if he ever stepped foot in this town, and that should make her feel safe, right? So, why isn't it? Why is she seeing his shadow over the windows and locked doors? Why is she hearing his laughter in the trees and flowers? Why does she hear his truck gunning behind her as she runs towards the garage? The engine roaring to life on the heat of her neck and her thoughts turning--why? Why?
Panic swelled in her chest as she rounded to corner with Jonesy on her heels, no truck behind her. The closer she was to her Alphas and Beta, the better she'll feel. The better she'll think. It's not on the schedule, but she wanted to feel that safety net around her shoulders and hair again. It'll be for the best if she's with them, and it didn't matter how. Riding in Lester's truck, downstairs with Vincent, or sitting on the counter in the main office of the shop while Bo works; all sounded amazing to her. Y/n just wanted the buzzing feeling in her skull.
***************
Bo's head jerked up suddenly from the truck, his body stiffing at the new smell. It hit him like a wall of bricks, and he recoiled at it. It smelled worse than Lester's kill pit, and it was worse than the smell of burning human flesh melting under wax. He covered his nose with his sleeve, wiping his nose over the cloth. It was terrible, and it tore his stomach apart. The smell of sulfur, churned milk, and decaying alligator meat baking in the sun all mixed together in one; that's how he would describe it to anyone who listens. He threw his rag and hurried to the trash can in the corner, his stomach finally giving up, as the smell grew stronger.
"Shit," he managed to breath out before throwing up again. This was a new scent, and he hated it. He wanted to find that smell and kill it with fire or with his hands. One way or another, it was going to die. "I swear to God, if Lester killed something close here--"
But he knew it wasn't that. He knew better.
"Y/n?' He breathed as he looked at the door, thinking she was there.
Something's wrong.
*******************
Vincent threw his mask off in time to throw-up in the trash can in the basement. The smell was faint, yes, but it was too much all at once. He was just trying to finish the guy, who came in biker shorts last week, when the smell hit him. He couldn't find the words to describe it; all he wanted to do was find the smell and stomp it out.
"Fuck," he hisses lowly as he slowly sat up. He took his mask and was about to put it on when he thought of y/n... something wasn't right.
He took his pack of cigarettes and started towards the shop. It is 10:30am, and she'll be there. She has to be there.
*******************
As much as Lester would like to throw up, he couldn't. He was driving with a new victim, and he didn't want the man to think he knows who he is. He didn't want to give himself away too early. Not yet. Will Bo forgive him? No. Will y/n forgive him?
"Hey, buddy," Lester jolted as the man talked. "Did you here me?"
What? He was talking? "Oh, nah. No," Lester answered as he looked back at the road. "Sorry 'bout 'at. Sometimes I jus' get lost in my head. 'At's all."
"Damn hick," the man murmured. "I asked how close we were. Just want to get back on the road, you know?"
Lester faked a smile. "We're almost close. Just ov'a the bridge an' we're there." Goodness, Bo's going to kill him. "You're comin' at a good time. Normally, Bo'll be busy in the afternoon wit' all them bus engines." He looked back at the road and gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white. The man smelled horrible. After this is over, he wants to wash the inside and outside of his truck until the smell is gone. "He works on 'em for the school uptown."
The man looked back at Lester then at the road. "Always wanted kids, but," he shook his head, "my girl had different plans."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," he hummed, leaning back in the seat. "The bitch ran off in the middle of the night. Never found her."
Don't call her 'bitch', mate.
As soon as the welcome sign came into view and he was driving over the bridge, he knew Hell would be raised as soon as he they step out of the truck. He knew that everything would crash and burn, and he was willing to watch it happen and take part. He just wants to protect y/n. He promised her as a man and as a Sinclair. He won't go back on his word now, not while he's in the truck entering Bo's territory.
Let the games begin.
***************
When y/n rounded the corner, she let out a scream when she bumped into Bo's chest. He pulls her into his arms and hugs her, hushing her gently in her hair.
"Calm down, darlin," he hummed. "It'll be right." He heard Lester's truck humming down the road, and it was out of view. "Get inside. Vincent's there-"
"Bo?"
He kisses her knuckles, his lips dry and cracked. It was his way of marking her. "We'll come up with a plan, honeycomb. Promise." He turns and usher's her inside. "Go to the back. I'll grab Les and meet you there."
"But-"
He didn't have time for this. "Go, now, y/n." He kisses her hand. "Vincent'll keep you safe if something happens. We'll be there." With that, he pushes her in and fixes his hat. he can't let that son-of-a-bitch know she's here. He can't risk it.
Lester parked in front of the station by the gas pumps and stepped out. He looked pale, and his cheeks were flushed and turning green. He was trying so hard for his brothers, for y/n, to keep it together.
Bo wanted to slit his throat right then and there, but he turned on the charm. "Howdy," he greeted with a smile. "What can do fer ya?"
"Need a 16 spark plug." The man answered for Lester. "I think it's a double blue liner."
"Need the can," Lester breathed as he sped past Bo, making towards the restroom. Unfortunately, when he was out of view of the two and made eye contact with Vincent and y/n, he shot his head away and threw-up in the the same trash can Bo used. “Hate it,” he breathed as he sat up, whipping his mouth. “Hate it all.”
Y/n held out her hands and he joined her side, Lester kissing her cheek. She held on to him with one arm as another squeezed Vincent’s hand. She just wanted this to end, to be brave and have her life—
But y/n already had that. All of that! She was loved and scared for! She was protected and safe here. Right here with three of the strongest people she’s ever been around. And they love her.
Y/n is tired of running.
“Scent me.”
The order startled Lester as he pulled away from her arms. His hands slipped over her cheeks. “What? Sweet pea, no—“
“I’m tired, Les,” she sighed. “I’m tired of running. I’m tired if Mick.”
“Y/n—“
“My ex-boyfriend is here, please scent me before he tries to do something.” Then a tired grin crossed her lips. “I want it to stop.” Then she glanced over her shoulder at Vincent. “You, too, Vincent. Mark me. Both of you.”
Lester’s thumbed her cheeks and kissed her. “Okay, sweet pea,” he hummed in a whisper. “Promise it won’t hurt.” From behind, y/n felt Vincent’s mask lift slightly up. “We promise.”
************
Bo was slammed against the side of Lester’s truck, a wicked grin crossing his lips, and he wiped the blood away from his noise. He hasn’t had a good fight in a long-ass time. He pushed himself off the truck and swung again, hitting Mick square under the jaw, then tackled him to the ground.
Mick held up his arms to shield his face as Bo put blow after blow over his skin. He’s been waiting for this prick to come against him and his brothers (but mainly him), and he just wanted to savor this moment of pain. For every hit and smack, for all the pain and bruises, for ever cigarette burns across y/n’s back— Bo was going to have his share of blood before noon. He’ll make sure he pays.
But when her shadow casts over them, Bo froze. He took a step back and let go of Mick. He joined your side as he saw the fresh bite mark on your neck from Vincent, and a bruised kiss on your shoulder from Lester. With his scent over your hands, Bo smiled. All three smells mixed over y/n like a sweet candle burning in a cozy cottage. No placed a hand on her hip as he leaned down and kissed her lips.
“Leave,” she said in a strong voice. “You don’t own me anymore.”
Mick slowly stood, his eyes in shock. “You… you’re a whore—“
“At least I know I’m loved,” she snapped. “I’m loved by three amazing wolves. Two alphas who will kill for me. A beta who would gut you alive. All three love me.” Her voice was strong as she held Bo’s hand tightly. Behind, she felt Vincent’s hand on her shoulder and Lester pulling out his Bowie to show Mick he was ready for the hunt. “You don’t own me, Mick. You’ll never have me. Ever again.”
Mick looked at you with disbelief, shaking his head. “Y/n, you can’t be for real—“
“I mean it, Mick.” Her voice stayed strong.
“But… but I still love you.”
She shakes her head. “And I don’t love you.” She looked up at Bo, strong and confident. “Get what he needs so he can leave. I don’t want to see him again.”
“We could kill him,” Lester suggested. “Say the word and—“
“No,” she shakes her head, her eyes snapping back at Mick. “Death is too great for him. Let him live.”
He doesn’t owe her anymore. No one owns her.
No one.
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