#but oh no. not simply baby stuff. below baby

[withahappyrefrain]

First off, this was beautiful. The relationship between Bradley and Smart Aleck is so amazing but also so realistic. Like their conversations are similar to ones I've had with my own husband. The chemistry is off the charts and I simply cannot get enough of them.

Also them being domestic?!?! Getting ready for a vacation?!?! My heart my heart!!

And now for my ramblings below:

But honestly it's so realistic that he fell asleep I don't blame him

Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 

IM ALREADY CRYING 😭

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 

SIRRRRRR THE SWITCH??? from needing to cuddle her to THIS? Deceased.

“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 

I love them so much they're too cute your honor 😭😭😭

That tattoo gets me Everytime my heart breaks every time

He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Him making her an audiobook I'm dead. Not just because that's hot as hell, but also the fact he wants to do research into the dynamic and make it right/good for her????? Like???! Bradley Bradshaw, the man that you are!!!

God, he would love missionary for how close it lets him be. A romantic at heart! I love him. Also love how he's obsessed with her tits like yes girl, get it!

This fic is making me feel much better about gaining some weight, thank you for your service

She's dimming the light?! Baby girl he loves you, he loves your body!!! 😭😭 I feel for her, I feel her so hard. Also I really love that you gave her a struggle that so many of us have gone through. Like your insecurities don't just magically vanish when you're in a loving relationship, it takes time and work and I know Smart Aleck will get there!

Stop shaking the thought away Bradley! God, he's so close, so freaking close to figuring it out!!! And in a way I like that it takes him time because that's realistic but I still want to shake them both

Her not knowing what to wear 😭😭 God this is hitting me so hard. And Bradley is just trying to be supportive!! Honestly surprised I haven't cried yet because I feel her so much

You've also convinced me that yes, Maverick is Bradley's dad. I love that smart Aleck has a relationship with him as well!

Bradley's right, if I met a 30 year old man who went by Teddy, it would be an immediate red flag. Also the way he's so protective of her and Amelia?! My heart can't take much more Jordan 😭😭

THE PHONE SEX?!?!?! JORDAN ELIZABETH (idk your middle name, I'm just inserting one bc holy shit that was hot and entirely too short God, do they need a third??? Asking for a friend).

“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 

THE WAY HE IS SO DESPERATE AND NEEDY FOR HER JORDAN I AM FERAL. FERAL!

Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 

OH MY GOD ITS THIS SCENE THE ONE YOU TALKED ABOUT

Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations.

Jake, that sounds like a personal problem my dude.

Hi, can I personally slap her mom?? Smart Aleck, Bradley loves your curves!! 😭😭I need the next part, I need Bradley to remind her she is more than her body, that he loves her no matter what size she is!!

rocketman: part iii - Some things Cosmic

Summary: finally back home, bradley can focus on all the things he's missed while he's been gone. there's someone there to properly welcome him home, frantic reunion sex, prepping for an amazing vacation, family dinners, and the casual intimacy he's come to love between the two of you. but there's still something up with you and he can't quite figure it out. it'll be fine, right? catch up with [part 1] and [part 2]

OR sex, s'mores, and secrets

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 18.5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, body insecurity, suggestive dialogue, suggestive content, and sexual content (oral (f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). also on ao3!

i want to be naked, i don’t mean my body, i don’t need my body i’m floating away

Bradley startled awake sometime later. It happened sometimes. He had these dreams were it felt like he was falling. Out of his plane, out of the sky, out of your arms. Falling and falling - with no end in sight. 

That wasn’t to say that they were necessarily nightmares or anything. (Because the distinction between the two was glaringly obvious.) 

They just unnerved him a bit. Left him unsettled, untethered. 

He rolled over and stretched his arm out across the bed, until his fingers brushed against something silky. Something warm and silky. He turned his head to find you sprawled out next to him.

You had changed between now and when Bradley had last seen you - he glanced at the clock on his nightstand - seven hours ago. 

Fuck. 

He had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. 

Goddammit, he felt like an asshole. He rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen, especially after what you two talked about earlier that evening. 

You’d give us your wild? Of course. Of course, of course, of course he would. 

Like you knew he was thinking about you, you shifted your hips, inching closer towards him. Your body was only half under the thick duvet cover and top sheet, so even in the early morning light he could still see the navy nightie you were wearing. 

Bradley liked to think that you had stowed it away someplace and changed downstairs in order to surprise him in bed. Except now he’d never know because he had fallen asleep on you. God, he was the worst boyfriend. 

Tonight, the night three months in the making, he had missed cuddling and kissing and all the best parts of getting cozy in bed with you because he had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. And sure, he had gotten a taste of what was to come on the couch while you laid underneath him and drew imaginary shapes across his chest with your finger and he held you tight and counted your heartbeats. 

But this was supposed to have been a big deal. It was the first time you both went to bed in the same room without the fear that you’d be leaving in the morning or later in the week to go back to your highrise. You were both home. Really, truly home. 

Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 

There was a future with you. There was that little boy - or little girl - from your dream. The perfect mix of you and Bradley. 

(Don’t ever be a Rocket Man. I mean it. 

When you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. 

Promise me you won’t be like me.)

Suddenly, there was this overwhelming urge inside him that if he didn’t touch you and have you in his arms, that he’d slip away, back to space. Untethered. 

You kept him on the ground. You kept him safe. 

Bradley scooted over towards your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around you, unable to bear another moment untethered. There, that was better. You were soft and warm and felt so precious in his arms. And with your nightie rucked up around your hips and one leg extended out and the other hiked up, your body was on full display. 

Easy access.

Your thighs were so fucking soft and curvy and he desperately wanted to slot himself right between them. Have them bracket his head, while his tongue lapped at your pretty pussy. 

Would he start there? Eat you out until you were begging for his cock? Have you grind on his lap…until you were begging for his cock? Or…just generally begging for his cock? 

They all seemed appealing, but admittedly kissing you until you were breathless and then rocking his body above yours until you were both tumbling over the edge had plenty of merit, too. Bradley wanted to treat you like you were precious first. 

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 

But that brought him back to the present. Could he wake you up, now? Bradley knew you’d been stressed and busy ever since your mom had come to town and because of all you’d confessed earlier; so, would it be fair to wake you? You hadn’t woken him up, afterall.

After an indeterminate amount of time of just holding you and watching you breathe, you rolled your bare ass against Bradley’s crotch and let out a pleased hum. He gave your hip a squeeze and you burrowed even deeper in his arms. Your skin was softer than the silk nightie you were wearing and he could feel the heat pouring off your body.

He slipped his hand down to knead your ass and you sighed. “Hmm, da-dley? Bubba?”

“Hey, kid.” He kissed your neck. 

Once you were a little more lucid and opened your eyes, you pulled your nightie down to cover your ass, though that didn’t stop Bradley from playing with the lace hem. 

You rolled over so you were now face to face and wrapped your right leg around his left. 

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

You cupped his cheek. “Wanted you to sleep, you looked so tired. Pretty too.” 

It was dark in the room at five thirty-eight, but not completely pitch black, so Bradley could still make out your soft features. You had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the three months he had been gone. It wasn’t obvious, not at first, and not to anyone who wasn’t really paying attention. 

But it was obvious to Bradley because Bradley always paid attention.

“Well,” he kissed your forehead then your nose, “I’m still sorry, especially after what we talked about earlier, should’ve stayed up for you.” 

“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 

He hitched your right leg higher over his hip and groaned when he could feel your core through his joggers. You squirmed against him, cheeky little thing. But with his joggers and t-shirt still on, Bradley was definitely overheated and the sweat was building at the back of his neck, to say nothing about the heat your body was giving off. 

As if reading his mind, you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly dragged your fingers up his stomach, stopping at both his happy trail and then the patch of hair in the middle of his chest, before taking the t-shirt off completely. A soft thud rang out when you’d thrown it across the room and it presumably landed on the floor. 

“You gonna take these off, too?” He slipped a finger under the waistband of his joggers. 

“Been dying to all night - hips up, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley arched his back and helped you slide his joggers down his legs, taking his boxer briefs with them. Your gaze lingered on his body for a long moment, but you just gave him a coy little smile. 

“Fuck,” he sighed in relief, “How’d you let me sleep in those?” 

“How’d you fall asleep on me?”

“You got me drunk!” 

“Not my fault you’re suddenly a lightweight - Bradley!” 

He pinched your side and you wiggled away from him with a shriek. “Uh uh, not so fast.” 

Bradley pulled you close again, desperate to be nearer to you. You tangled your legs together and pointed your torso towards his, but remained perched on your elbow, while he was laying down flat.  

Suddenly somber, your eyes were drawn back to his body and he just let you look - drink him in and see what you had missed over the last few months. Every new freckle, scar, bruise, age line. 

Bradley couldn’t wait to do the same. What had he missed? What was different?

He could feel your eyes lingering on his abs. Normally, you remarked on his thighs and shoulders, but tonight it seemed you had a different focus. You appeared hesitant, biting your lip, as you dragged your finger across his stomach. 

Did you like how he looked - how he had changed in your time apart?

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 

Bradley kissed you and returned the compliment. “And you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I’ve been gone.” 

You appeared bashful at the comment, which just let Bradley know he’d have to give you more of them over the next few weeks. “Come ‘ere.” Without waiting for a response, Bradley started pressing kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your neck, your lips. If it was possible at this point, he drew your body even closer.

“Bra-adley! We have an entire bed here, you know?” You giggled when he rubbed his nose into your neck.

“Mmmm, but it’s nice and warm here.”

You scooched down on the bed on your stomach so you were looking up at him. With a smile, you began to press languid kisses across his chest, starting just above his belly-button and creeping up to his pecs, heart, and shoulders. You loved his shoulders, you always managed to notch your head there during sex and press little kisses to the scars dotting them and his neck. Bites, too - marks to prove he was yours.

But tonight, it seemed you had a different path in mind and, while you still nipped at his shoulder, you didn’t stop there and instead went straight to the small tattoo on his bicep. You traced your fingers across the roman numerals:

x x x i x

Thirty-nine. 

As in thirty-nine years old. An age neither of his parents ever got to see. 

Bradley had gotten the tattoo when he was in flight school and a bit of a shit with self destructive tendencies. People never really asked what it meant and he never really wanted to tell anyone. 

He’d told Ezra, right around the time when they first started talking about moving in together, before that spectacularly failed. He also told Nat. However, the latter was only because he was drunk and pissed and he had just made lieutenant, once again surpassing his father in something.

Maverick had seen it about a year ago. He had never asked Bradley what it meant and probably never wanted to have it confirmed what it meant. But to anyone who really knew Bradley, it was easy to put together.

Bradley had told you about it on your fourth date. 

It was the second time you’d slept together. Because while your first time had been frantic and had taken you both by surprise (you, in particular, were freaked out that you’d slept with someone on the first date without a condom), the second time was much slower - softer. 

You had planned the date this time. Bradley had picked you up at your apartment - he even had come upstairs to get you - with flowers - and the two of you had dinner at Callie, followed by a performance at the San Diego Symphony. It was actually thanks to one of Bradley’s fun facts about playing the piano that you had gotten the idea. 

Both of you had gotten dressed up (a big departure from your third date hike in Torrey Pines), the food and drinks had been plentiful and delicious, and listening to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major and Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 was made all the more romantic by the way Bradley held your hand for the entire first piece and had his hand on your thigh for the entire second.

So, after eating you out on your kitchen counter and going two rounds in bed, Bradley had told you what the tattoo meant and about his parents and Maverick and you had told him about your mom and your accident during your junior year of high school. 

And if you had asked Bradley, it was after that date that he knew he was going to fall in love with you. 

It hadn’t felt scary to tell you any of it. It felt right and natural. Like you wouldn’t judge him or get scared when things got hard. Like he wanted to protect you at all costs. 

And because he had told you what the tattoo meant, it made the moments since when you’d really focus and hone in on it all the more sweeter. During this last deployment, Bradley had often felt like the ink was burning into his skin under his flight-suit. It kept reminding him that he had once thought he had a timeline or a stopwatch on his bicep, slowly ticking down. But with you, it was something to strive towards, to reach beyond and be there for LIX, LXXXIX, and even XCIX. 

“What’s it like flying at night?” Your question snapped him out of his thoughts and you pressed another kiss to his tattoo to calm him. “I kept thinking about it on my flight to London. And how you must see this all the time, is it still a big deal? Can you even stop and think about it? Just endless night with thousands of stars to guide you? Being in the middle of the ocean, nothing around for hundreds of miles.”

(What’s it like, out in space?

It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things - oh, it’s really nothing at all. 

But you always go back.)

“You’d never thought about it before?” his voice came out thick, hoarse. 

You shrugged a shoulder. “Not in that way, I guess? I couldn’t sleep on the way to London, so I pulled up the shade in the middle of the night. I’ve never really thought to do it before, don’t know why - but then I saw all those stars, endless stars, thousands of them. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your finger stopped tracing patterns on his arm for a moment before it started again. “And I though to myself this is what Bradley sees. This is why he loves it and for that brief blip in time I got it. I understood. Makes me love you even more in some way.” 

Bradley felt like he was going to cry, the feeling swept over him so suddenly. “I uhh - fuck.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you sounded contrite, “I just wanted you to know.”

Could he tell you? Could he tell you that flying at night with all the stars in the sky simultaneously made him feel closer to and yet farther away from his parents? It was like they were right there, but also so far out of reach. But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t say any of that, not now. The words couldn’t come.

Instead, he pulled you closer, putting your face at level with his own. “I love you.”

You smiled and he could’ve sworn there were tears in your eyes, but it was hard to make out in the darkness. “I love you, too. Now please kiss me.”

Bradley let out a chuckle, but leaned in to kiss you without another word. The kiss was sweet, but still had an underlying desperation attached to it that came with being away for months. But unlike every other kiss you’d shared since Bradley had gotten home, there was no need to stop or to prevent it from going further. No, now you were his. He could have you however he wanted.

Not breaking the kiss, you shifted and bracketed your thighs on either side of his hips, allowing him to slide his hands up your body. He’d never get tired of thinking it, but god, you were so fucking soft. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts, your hands, your lips - actually…

His next words were grunted against your neck. “Your lips are really soft - softer than normal,” he finished when you went to interrupt him. 

“Must be my lip mask. I put it on after I saw that you fell asleep on me…”

“Hey, hey,” he tickled your sides and you collapsed on his chest amidst your giggles, “I said you should’ve woken me up!”

“Would you have woken me up?” You had him there. “See? This way I could stare at you uninterrupted and get all moony over you. Plus, now isn’t this better? No more sleepy bubs.”

No. He was definitely awake now. And from where your core was laid on his bare stomach, he could already feel how wet your were and couldn’t wait to slip inside you. 

“‘Could kiss you for hours,” you said against his lips. You kissed him - once, twice, ten times, smiling all the while. He never wanted you to stop. “Bradley,” you whined, “Need you inside me. Gotta get used to you again. ‘m so tight.” You nipped his earlobe. 

He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

You preened under the praise. Because it surely had to have been a bit of a challenge. “Yours are so much bigger, though.” Bradley rolled his eyes at your cheeky tone. “What’re you gonna think up for me to do next time you’re gone? Like what you talked about earlier?” You didn’t linger too much on the next time part of your question, so he didn’t either.

“Hmmm. What about tasks?”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, I’d have to do more research, but like you have to wear xyz or send me a picture of you doing something? Whatever we want.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Mmmmm, I like that. Wish we could really talk when you’re gone, though. I’m not sure I could handle every comms officer hearing what I need from you again…”

An idea suddenly struck Bradley. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe I can make you an audiobook?”

Your jaw dropped and you contorted your body to look up at him. “You’d do that? Seriously?”

His cheeks colored. “I mean, not like an actual one, but like a voice memo or something?” The idea didn’t sound nearly as good out loud as it did in his head. “If you wanted…”

“Oh my god, yes! I very much do want.”

Without another word, Bradley rolled you both over so now he was on top, knees bracketing your hips so as to not put his full weight on you. Your nightie was still covering your stomach and breasts, but that didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath the navy silk to play with them. They felt fuller than normal - not that he was complaining, but he hadn’t noticed earlier and now -

His cock brushed against your stomach in a way that had you bucking up against him, so desperate, so keen, so fucking good. Good girl. Your lips were eager against his as you poured every thought, every email, every Facetime call into your kiss. 

God, it had been so long. Fooling around on the couch earlier in the evening paled in comparison to how plump your lips felt and how keenly your body reacted to his. Because you felt so good. Months, weeks, days had passed and Bradley had never felt anything as good as your body beneath his. 

You sighed and squirmed up the bed so your head was laid across the pillows, all the while Bradley made his way down the bed. 

“More, bubs, please.” 

How could he refuse, especially when you had asked so nicely? He bent forward to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips before working his way down your body, from your neck and collarbones, to your breasts through your nightie, and finally to right below your belly-button. From there, you readily allowed him to bend your knees so your feet were planted firmly on the bed and your core was completely exposed to him. 

Even in the early morning light it was exquisite. You had the prettiest pussy Bradley had ever seen - and it was his, all his.

“Fucking gorgeous.” 

You startled at the first touch of his lips on your thighs, but let out the prettiest little sigh when he sucked on the skin by your birthmark. There was another as he licked along one of your lightning lines. And another as he kissed the hood of your clit. 

God, you smelled so fucking good and were groomed just the way he liked it -  like the perfect, obedient, good girl that you were. And perfect, obedient, good girls got their pussy played with until they were babbling like dumb little sluts.

“- Would have thought this would be your first stop?”

Bradley chuckled, but didn’t stop dragging his fingers across your inner thighs and lower lips. “Yeah? What, d’you think I’d do? Just dive right in? Take you on the kitchen table?”

“I would’ve let you.”

Once the words had sunk in, he stopped teasing you. His elbows gave out beneath him and he groaned with his face pressed against the sheets. Fuck. That was a conversation for another time, but just the thought of you letting Bradley basically use you had him grinding his hips into the mattress.

You were so good. 

He popped his head back up and slapped you - lightly - across your pussy. “You keep saying shit like that and next time I just might.”

In response, you arched your back and tried to close your legs around his head, but Bradley just tutted and spread them further.

“Uh-uh, need to have a look at her, I've gone three months without her.” Your hips jumped off the mattress as his fingers started playing with you, tracing circles over and dipping in and out of your cunt. “‘pretty pussy. She took such good care of you while I was gone, didn’t she? Look at you dripping for me, huh?”

His fingers scissored inside of you, dragging against your walls, while his thumb needled your clit. Your wetness spread across his fingers and he, in turn, spread it across your folds and inner thighs. He liked when you were messy. He liked to feel you all over his face.

“Bradley,” you whined. “Stop teasing.”

Neither of you really wanted that, so it didn’t even merit a response from him. Instead, he kept sliding his fingers inside you in and out, in and out and crooked them ever so slightly before he added a third. Above him, you gasped and jolted. 

“‘Atta girl, arch your back, just like that.” You whimpered at his praise and kept rocking your hips in tandem with his fingers. Fucking glorious, such a good girl for da -

“- Bradley…” He peered up to see that you had one arm over your eyes, while the other was pawing at your breasts through your nightie.

“God, you’re sucking on my fingers so tight, I would believe you’ve taken anything up this pretty pussy in months.”

“‘Want your mouth, please, please…” 

“Where?” his voice was muffled. Bradley sucked his lips around your thigh, right by your labia, but refrained from kissing you were you wanted him most. He wanted to mark you up everywhere, have your thighs and breasts and neck covered in little bites and bruises. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Good. Good. Good. 

You whined. It sounded pathetic and he had barely even started. “My pussy. Please, Bradley? Please?”

Who was he to deny you? Because, god, you tasted so fucking good. It was hard not to absolutely devour you, especially after going for so long without you. Bradley slid his hands down from your hips to grab your ass and rut your cunt deeper against his face. As a reward, he got a slew of pretty little whimpers out of you.

He continued at a steady pace, alternating between probing your clit and slipping his tongue inside you. Above him, you arched your back and he pressed a firm hand on your stomach to keep you down. 

“Bradley,” you cried as you rode his face. 

God, you sounded so pretty now, he couldn’t wait to get you on his cock later. 

Pretty girl. 

Smart girl. 

Good girl. 

His girl with a body like Aphrodite. 

“Ahhh - fuc - ahhh.” You made that sound and he knew, without even looking up, that your head was tipped back in pleasure and you were close. “Bubs,” your voice came out small, “want you - inside me, now.”

“Uh-uh.” Bradley pulled his head back, but continued fingering you. “You need to come first.” 

Come on his face. 

You shook your head frantically against the pillow. “No.” You gasped when he purposely plunged his fingers deeper. “‘wanna with you - ahh inside me.”

Somehow you grabbed the hand he had pressed on your stomach and you dragged it up your body. His knuckles brushed against the silk of your nightie until you eventually pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your interlocked fingers. And all Bradley could do was say your name in censure, which ultimately came out heavy with need.

“Please? Want it to be together our first time back.” You whined pitifully. “Haven’t touched myself in days.”

All you had to do was pout and he was gone. 

“Fine,” he smacked your thigh, “but I’m gonna make you come again after I finish inside you.”

“Yes, yes, anything, Bradley.”

You would be spent and whiny by then, it wouldn’t be hard. 

After swirling his fingers once more around in your cum, Bradley held his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean them off. “That good?” You hummed around the digits before he retracted them and tapped your cheek twice. “Atta girl.”

Next, he shifted up on the bed so his knees were straddling your waist. He was achingly hard at this point and bit back a smile as you made grabby hands for his cock. It pulsed in your grasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Fuck, that felt divine. While you may have relished how much larger his fingers were than yours, Bradley loved how large his cock looked in your smaller hands. However, he’d already let your tender touches go on long enough - another minute and he’d come all over that silk nightie you hadn’t taken off yet.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Your eyes were wide and you nodded. 

Trusting, needy, desperate. Such a perfect girl for him. 

“Wanna be full.”

He brushed the head of his cock against your pussy lips, making sure it was nice and wet and, god, you were fucking soaked and practically sucked him in. You whimpered and muttered something indistinguishable, but wrapped your arms around his shoulders and canted your hips up for more. Then, once Bradley slipped just the tip of his cock inside you, you gasped, but brought him closer. Your nails dug into his shoulders, hopefully pressing little crescents into the skin. He pulled back and slid in again, inch by inch, earning a breathy gasp from you every time. 

Holyfuckingshit. You were so tight. So fucking tight, even after prepping you with his tongue and fingers. 

Yours are so much bigger, though your voice echoed through his head. 

You were so fucking soft and warm and wet and felt perfect around him. With each thrust he’d grunt out your name and you in turn would give a whiny Bradley and eventually wrapped your legs around his hips. And then you were also clenching down on him like you’d spent the entire three months doing kegel exercises. 

“Fuck, you made me so hard - thinking about how much of a good girl you were while I was away, keeping this nice and tight for me,” he barely got the words out. 

“‘do anything for - for you. ‘d let you do anything to - mmhmm - me,” you finished with a whimper. 

Fuck. Your unwavering trust in Bradley always took him aback. Because you meant it. You really would let him do anything to you. If you had the slightest inclination that it would please him, you would do it. He had never had someone who trusted him that much. And that wasn’t something he took lightly. 

With that thought in mind, he snapped his hips against yours in a particularly hard thrust that had you crying out. 

“Mmm harder.”

He bent down to suck on your neck. This - the closeness - was why he liked missionary so much. It was perfect for this exact moment. There was plenty of time to take you hard and fast later.

“Oh, god. Feel so full - Bradley, Bra - Bradley!” With every utterance of his name, he drove deeper inside you. Harder inside you. You’d ride him next time, he’d make sure of it. But for now, breathing each other’s air, gasping against each other’s mouth, and feeling the sweat on each other’s brow, being so impossibly close to each other, it was hard to say where Bradley’s soul ended and yours started. 

Yours and mine are the same. 

He groaned your name and you opened your eyes to gaze up at him with an almost dazed expression. Grabbing the back of your knee, Bradley went in at a different angle, trying to get deeper. “Feel how much your little hole’s dripping? Just needed me to stretch you out again.”

“Mmmmm yes, yes, da-dley - ahhhh,” you cried out, “can I come? Please, please?”

Oh, you were such a good girl for him. Asking so nicely, so prettily. So properly. Thank god he had prepped you, he wasn’t going to last much longer, himself. It was kind of pathetic. Both of you were, to be frank. Obviously, you more than him in this instance, but -

“‘Course. There you go, sweetheart, come on my cock like a good girl.”

When you finally came a few moments later, it was with a strangled cry of his name that Bradley swore was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in months. As the shudder of pleasure swept over you and you tightened your core around him, Bradley hastened to find his own release. The slew of cries and whimpers against his lips as you tried to settle down only spurred him on further. He drove into you again and again and again. 

He had to get there with you - had to. You clung to him and notched your head by his neck, only to graze your lips along the tender skin there and bite. 

“Fuck,” he grunted. “‘You ready for me to come inside you, sweetheart? Know how much you missed it.”

You nodded against his neck. “Yes,” you whispered, “Bradley, please…”

He groaned your name. It sounded so good like that, so perfect. He had to say it again and again and again. With each stroke, your overstimulated pussy fluttered around him, pulling him towards his own orgasm. His jaw clenched and his back muscles tightened and Bradley could barely support his own weight over you for another moment - 

“‘s good, bubs, feel so full.”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was it. That did it. 

With a final moan of your name, Bradley came inside you, painting your pussy with his cum. His cocked twitched one final time as the last streams of cum filled you up. He notched his head against your shoulder and he breathed in your sweet scent. 

Goddamn. 

Once he settled down and caught his breath sometime later, he moved to pull out, knowing that when he did so, both your cum would drip down your thighs. Your gorgeous, thick thighs. He already needed to get lost in them again. And wasn’t that just the thing? Bradley was obsessed with you. He could never get enough of you.

“No, no, not yet,” you whimpered. 

He stopped and pulled you closer, but slightly changed your position. There was some perverse part of him that wanted to make a comment about keeping you on his cock for the rest of the morning so you could get used to him again, but he refrained after thinking about the tone of your voice. You sounded so fucking good and docile and submissive. Such a good girl. 

“Pretty sure you owe me another one…” You burrowed your head against his neck and moaned when he shifted. “How ‘bout I stay inside you? ‘That okay?” You nodded and your pussy tightened against him. “Good girl.”

Keeping you close, Bradley slid one hand in between your bodies to play with your throbbing clit. You arched your back up towards him, trying in vain to get closer, though that was nigh impossible - the two of you were already as close as two people could be. 

Yours and mine are the same.

He needled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, trying to get some moans and whines out of you. God, your body felt unreal. Still so warm around him, still so wet for him. All for him. 

Mine, mine, mine. 

As your body shifted, your pebbled nipples brushed against his bare chest and Bradley was remiss for not playing more attention to them earlier. But that could’ve been because you were still wearing that goddamn nightie. You were flustered and warm and your skin was glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat. 

He bent his head down and mouthed at your breasts through the midnight blue silk. They were already hardened to peaks, desperate to be suckled on, especially after noting their new size. There would be time for that later, he had to remind himself. 

For now, he nipped at the top of your cleavage and kept playing with your clit. You were so oversensitive, you were practically shaking in his arms. And in response, you raked your hands through Bradley’s hair, pulling on the strands. Fuck him. That felt divine, especially as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Brad-ley,” you whimpered, “’s too much.”

“Shhh, easy, easy, there’s no rush.” He tipped your chin up. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head. “Take a deep breath. That's it. Good girl.”

Little whimpers kept escaping your mouth, but you burrowed your face against his neck and trusted him to take care of you. You nipped at the skin there and he hoped it would leave a mark; let everyone know that he was yours and only yours for the next few weeks. 

Mine, mine, mine.

“I’ve got to take care of you, you were such a good girl while I was gone. My best girl, huh?”

“Mmmm.”

“So beautiful, so smart. Took such good care of things for me, huh?” He could feel as well as hear your breath hitching, letting him know that you were close. “‘gorgeous girl, so proud of you, sweet g -”

And that did it. 

So proud of you.

You came with a cry and your walls fluttered around his cock once again. A sudden gush of wetness coated both yours and Bradley’s thighs. God, it was beautiful. You were beautiful. Your name kept running through his mind and Bradley realized he was actually muttering it against your lips through kisses. There were tears in your eyes and he thumbed them away before they could slide down your beautiful face.

“Hey, too much?” He kissed your cheeks, which unfortunately only made more tears spring from your eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, “I just missed you so much, think I’m overwhelmed,” you finished sheepishly. 

The tension in Bradley’s shoulders eased and he smiled down at you. “Now you’re gonna make me cry, kid.”

“I love you.” The words came out quietly, but it was like they’d only just come out of your mouth before Bradley was saying them back. 

“Love you, too.” The smile he got out of you warmed his heart and he pecked your lips before tucking your head under his chin.

The two of you laid there for some time with Bradley still inside you. In fact, he was pretty certain you may have dozed off at one point, but he didn’t want you to be too uncomfortable when you woke up later. With that in mind, he slowly pulled out and settled you on the bed beside him. You fussed a little, but Bradley kissed your forehead, heading it off. 

He started with your name, “I’ll be right back, okay? Going to the bathroom.” You nodded at him, your eyes wide and trusting. 

It was chilly out of bed, away from you, and Bradley only paused for a brief moment to slip on a pair of his sleep shorts from the dresser, before heading off to the bathroom to get a damp towel for you. He hastened back to the bedroom, now almost fully lit in the early morning light. You made such a pretty picture all tucked under the thick, white duvet. 

“Bradley?” You stretched out underneath the covers and let out a little whimper. “‘m sore.”

“Shit, sorry,” he said with your special nickname tacked on the end. “Come ‘ere.” Despite his words, he came to you and dutifully cleaned you up with the warm cloth. 

“‘s not your fault,” you slurred, “need to get used to it again. Missed you.”

The cloth passed over your thighs once, twice, three times, before Bradley brushed it against your core once, twice, three times. You sighed and gave him a lazy smile, which he easily returned. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Be right back,” he whispered. 

You’d barely managed to get back under the covers by the time he came back from the bathroom. And then, with all the care and love you deserved at the moment, he bundled you up in his arms. You were so warm and smelled so pretty and your nightie felt so soft against his rough fingers. Everything about that moment was perfect. You were so precious. You pressed your cheek against his chest and he hoped you could tell how fast his heart was beating. 

“I missed being with you like this, missed holding you.”

You pressed lazy kisses to his chest for a moment before you eventually tipped your head up to meet his eyes. “Can we stay like this? Just for a while? Don’t wanna get up yet.”

“‘Course,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “go back to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

--------------

When Bradley woke hours later, he did so slowly. He was pleasantly warm, he was finally sleeping on a true mattress, and you were slotted between his legs sucking his cock. 

Surely, there were few better ways to wake up than to have your sweet lips wrapped around him. It wasn’t something you did often, at least in terms of waking Bradley up this way, but he loved whenever you took the initiative. It showed how eager you were - how desperate. Really, the only thing that could top it would be your pussy sunk deep on his cock as you rode him.

You had to have been at it for a while, for he was achingly hard by this point. His hips bucked up, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth and you let out a surprised moan, no doubt having thought he was still sleeping, before taking him further. Your tight grip on his thighs left him relatively grounded, else he would have set off a round of those gagging noises from you that he liked so much. That wet mouth that he liked so much - fuck. 

Bradley groaned your name. You peered up at him with those wide, innocent eyes like you weren’t getting him off while he slept. Like your pussy wasn’t soaking. Like you hadn’t been grinding it against his bare thigh for the last however many minutes. 

And you kept at it with Bradley’s hand grabbing your hair and guiding you. You kept working him, forcing him deeper down your throat. He moaned and you responded back in kind. Such a good mouth, such a good girl, taking care of him like this. It took him a moment to realize he was doing it, but he was mumbling your name, almost nonsensically. 

But then he felt, rather than saw, you remove one of your hands from his thighs to presumably put it between your legs to play with your needy pussy. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Fuck. Get up here,” he said and then punctuated it with a growl of your name when you stayed down. The whimper you let out had him bucking his hips up off the mattress. “I’m serious.”

Almost begrudgingly, you eased him out of your mouth and the resulting, wet pop echoed throughout the bedroom. You looked far too pleased with yourself as you sucked on your finger - the one that had definitely been shoved up your pussy only moments ago - and hummed in response. 

“Get up here - now.”

You braced yourself on either side of Bradley’s hips and teasingly brushed your pussy against his aching cock a couple times, practically begging for him to sink inside you. It would be so easy for you to ride him right now, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Bossy, bossy,” you teased and crept up his body, pressing kisses to his happy trail and chest along the way. But just as you were about to kiss him on the lips, he stopped you.

“Uh uh.” He stuck his finger in the air and mimed a circle. “Turn around.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Are you…” Again, just Bradley twirled his finger around and smiled. “F-fine.” 

“But,” at this you relaxed your thighs to press more of your weight on his stomach, “you have to take this off,” he finished by thumbing the navy fabric of your nightie. 

It only took a moment for the smile to creep across your face, but you didn’t take your eyes off Bradley’s as you slid the dainty straps off your shoulders, one at a time. You didn’t take the nightie off, it still covered all of your stomach, but it let Bradley ogle your breasts unimpeded for a moment. 

“Will that be all, lieutenant commander?”

He just shook his head in disbelief. “Cheeky little slut.” 

And then you smiled, looking so proud of yourself for rattling him that he had no choice but to slap the top of your ass. Hard. You huffed.

“Now turn around.” 

You rolled your eyes, but managed to turn around with Bradley’s assistance. The brief awkwardness of limbs strewn about was easily forgotten as soon as you got into position and he was rewarded with the sight of your glistening pussy in front of his face.

Bradley didn’t bother holding back a moan and started kneading your ass and running his fingers along your lower spine. Meanwhile, you wiggled down his body, dragging your breasts against his bare skin for the first time all morning. They were so soft, but your nipples were pebbled as they brushed against his stomach. He hissed when you lingered there for a moment to tease him.

Not one to let you get the upper hand, Bradley grabbed your hips to draw you close to his face and inhaled your sweet scent. Fuck. You were so good. You let out a mewl and startled when he first made contact with his tongue and then attempted to nose at your clit. That always got you going. Same with his mustache against the tender skin at the apex of your thighs. Maybe he would abstain from shaving on vacation, if only you’d ask.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned your name against your skin and then he feasted. 

Meanwhile, the way your hands were playing with his balls right now had him already teetering towards an orgasm. After only being able to fantasize about having your hands on him - your sweet, delicate hands on him - for the last three months, this felt divine. And then you put your mouth on him and he was well and truly done for.

“Fuck.” 

Neither of you lasted much longer after that.

--------------

After your depravity filled wake up call, the rest of the morning took on a decidedly more chaste tone. The room was filled with giggles and the sounds of kissing as Bradley told you some of the more entertaining stories from the carrier and Australia, while you revealed that you had watched his 60 Minutes segment at least nine times. When he asked you why you’d watched it nine times, you just ducked your head and bashfully said it was because you sounded really smart.

It was finally around noon when Bradley said you two needed a shower and to have breakfast before embarking on the rest of the day’s activities, which included a tour of the house, complete with all the little goodies you’d amassed for him over the last couple months that he had glossed over last night, and getting ready for drinks with Nat, Caroline, and Max at six-thirty. Granted, the latter was six hours away, but Bradley had a feeling you both would be pretty slow to the take that afternoon. Probably would get a little distracted, too.

“‘m gonna take a shower,” his lips brushed kisses up and down your arms and over your once again silk clad breasts and he was rewarded with giggles, “you wanna come with me?”

“Oh!? Uhh - yeah, we could take a shower.” You pecked him on the lips. “Can you warm it up first, please?”

The pout worked - it always did - but Bradley still groaned, totally hamming it up. “Mmmm, I suppose...”

With one final kiss, he dragged himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He flicked the lights on with a snap, going for full brightness on the dimmer, and turned around to give you a cheeky wink, only to see you worrying your lip between your teeth and staring intently down at your clasped hands on top of the duvet. He called your name and your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze.

“You good?”

You nodded and put a smile on your face. “Yeah, be right in.”

Odd. But then again, Bradley could’ve been reading too much into it. He hadn’t seen you since before Christmas, afterall. You were probably just tired. Yesterday had been a long day. And he had run you pretty ragged this morning. 

The water had warmed up while he was going to the bathroom and was the perfect temperature by the time he finally got under the spray. Just as he was about to call out to you again, he heard you enter the bathroom - and promptly dim the lights. 

“Woah, woah - hey!”

“Sorry!” you called out from behind the shower curtain. “I uhh - I just have a headache, don’t want the lights too bright too early in the morning.”

It was twelve-fifteen. 

Bradley frowned and looked at your shadow moving on the other side of the curtain. You were standing up straight - he would almost call it stiff. It was an odd request, to say the least, but it wasn’t exactly pitch black in the bathroom now, just a little darker, especially from the waist down. 

“Okay, just be careful when you get in - here,” he pulled the curtain back and held his hand out for you to step over the lip of the tub. You startled, but nevertheless took his hand. “There you go.”

The two of you stood face to face for a moment, allowing you both to get your fill of the other. It was definitely darker in the shower now, but Bradley could still make out your ample curves. Streams of water dripped down your chest as you tipped your head under the faucet and it was impossible for him to not watch as the droplets cascaded over your breasts. 

They looked fucking glorious by the way - he was slightly put out that he hadn’t gotten a chance to really play with them in bed earlier - you had only given him a glimpse of them for a few moments - but there was always later. Or now? Now was also good.

“Did these get bigger?” The words were out before he could think twice and he cupped a breast in each hand. Your nipples pebbled as his thumbs passed over them, back and forth, back and forth.  

Your eyes flew up to his face before glancing right back down at your breasts. “What? No, I don’t think - no.”

Bradley leaned back to catch your eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. They look great, feel even better, they’re just…”

“Oh! I guess I hadn’t noticed.” You turned your back to him. “Here, do you want to do my hair? Or I can do yours? Why don’t I do yours?”

Before he could even process what was happening, you spun back around and grabbed the shampoo bottle from behind Bradley and squirted some Ouai into your hands. He leaned forward so you could lather his hair up with the suds and appreciated your care in keeping them out of his eyes. For someone normally so dominant and in control, Bradley really did love when you fussed over him. He knew it wasn’t something you were comfortable with in every aspect of your relationship - taking charge like that - but it was nice in settings like this. Once the shampoo had set, he crouched down for you to rinse and then repeat the process with the conditioner.  

“I think we need a bench in here.”

“Yeah?” 

You hummed. “Just a little bump out, enough for someone to sit. You’re getting older, I wouldn’t want you to fall or hurt yourself during any rigorous shower activity.”

“Rigorous shower activity?” Bradley chuckled and nudged you with his shoulder before wetting your hair under the faucet. “You know, if I took all my showers with you, I wouldn’t have to worry about that, kid. Here, turn around, ‘s your turn.”

Gently, Bradley lathered up your hair and made sure to massage your scalp the same way you had done for him. You let out a pleased hum and then he repeated the process with the conditioner, though he might’ve used a bit too much. 

Once you were both back under the spray, you rested your palms on his chest and peered up at him with wide eyes. You looked like you were about to cry and he pulled you closer in comfort.

“I haven’t stayed here at the house too much while you were gone, just a night or two - like that night…with the email,” you confessed, “it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking you’d come home any minute.” Bradley pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’d drop stuff off slowly, a couple boxes a week and whatnot.”

You both stood in the silence of the falling water for a few moments before you spoke again. 

“It just doesn’t feel real - all of this. I keep worrying that you’re gonna disappear again tomorrow. Or that I’m going to wake up or something. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was just the thing: Bradley didn’t know what he’d do without you either. He had never felt this way before; that there was someone else tied to him, someone else living for him, while he in turn lived for them. 

“Hey,” he tipped your chin up, “you’re not the only one worried about that. But I have you with me now and I’m always gonna do my damndest to come home to you, alright, kid?”

“Alright.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping him close, and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Love you, bubs.”

Bradley instantly tightened his arms around you. “Love you, too.” 

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Before long, your kiss on his chest turned into a kiss on the mouth and your hands roved over each other’s bodies as you shared the loofah and soap. “So broad, so strong,” you said in wonder as you roved your hands over his chest and thighs and chased away the bubbles. 

And then, after multiple passes over your breasts at Bradley’s hands - it was unfair how good your breasts looked all sudsed up - it was time for a final rinse. He hopped out of the shower first and had a towel waiting for you when you got out, before you ultimately changed into your fluffy white robe. 

The two of you completed your morning routines side by side in comfortable silence until Bradley went back to the bedroom to put on some running shorts and a t-shirt. 

“You want breakfast?” He snuck up behind you at the bathroom counter and kissed your cheek. 

You smiled at him in the mirror. “Yes, please.”

“Anything in particular.” He kissed you again. “Pancakes? French toast? Ooooo maybe hash browns and bacon, too? The works?”

You had been giggling while he had been kissing your neck, but you suddenly turned sober as he rattled off your options. “Oh, uhh - maybe some eggs?”

Bradley frowned. “Like scrambled?” 

“Or poached? I’ve been eating a lot of egg whites lately…” With the way you were bundled up in your robe and with your hair still wet from the shower, you looked small - young. Egg whites?

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, I can do some egg whites for you.” 

Egg whites? Since when did you like egg whites? You had always liked your eggs scrambled and a little runny - with ketchup. Idly, Bradley remembered Max eating egg whites and low carb toast for the entire month of May to get in shape for yacht week in Croatia. He shook the thought away.

“Anything you want, kid.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the check. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay?”

And with that smile and a promise, Bradley headed off downstairs to make breakfast. 

Egg whites, really?

-----------

Bradley’s homecoming weekend extravaganza - your words - could only be considered truly complete with a family dinner at Maverick and Penny’s on Sunday evening. Penny wouldn’t hear of you two bringing anything to dinner, so all that was needed to do upon returning from a morning hike in Torrey Pines was shower and change. 

You didn’t have to be there until six thirty, but it was already five forty-five and at least a 20 minute drive, so you were both a little more hurried than you were after yesterday’s shower. In fact, when Bradley got out of the shower, he was surprised to see that you were still in your bathrobe and staring at your half of the closet like it contained all of life’s mysteries. Granted, your hair and makeup were done, but you just stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, absentmindedly biting your thumb nail. 

How long had you been standing there?

“If it makes it any easier,” you startled at Bradley’s voice, “I’m sure Mav will just be wearing a t-shirt and jeans.” Barely looking at the shirt he grabbed to go with his chino shorts, Bradley fell into your line of sight. “You good?”

You relaxed your shoulders. “Yeah, just…not sure what to wear.” 

The two of you stood side by side to take in the full array of clothes in the closet. While not all of your clothes - some bulkier items and more formal dresses were in the guest bedroom - there were still dozens of options in front of the two of you. You took a hesitant step forward and eventually took a pair of boyfriend jeans off a shelf and held them to your chest. Just as you were about to grab a boxy oxford, Bradley snatched up a brightly patterned, tiered, sleeveless dress that would hit at the middle of your thighs. The empty hanger rattled against the rod, but it stopped you in your tracks, the oxford momentarily forgotten. 

“This would look nice.” 

Even to Bradley’s own ears, his voice sounded lame, almost a little desperate. But there was something about you choosing an oxford to wear after staring at your closet for ten minutes that gave him pause. You had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them. 

“It’s not too much?” Bradley shook his head and held the dress up to your body. “I bought it to bring on our trip, but now I’m not sure…”

“It’s perfect, trust me, you’ll look gorgeous. And you better pack it for Mexico, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You appeared a little flustered, but had lost the sad look in your eyes from moments ago, so Bradley considered it a win. 

With a kiss to the side of your head, he told you to finish getting ready and that he would be downstairs when you were done. 

After getting his wallet and car keys together, Bradley made his way to the mudroom to put on his new sneakers. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you had definitely ordered them for Bradley during one of your many Ted Lasso rewatches while he was away. He reminds me of you sometimes, you would demure when pressed. It was cute. 

With one foot propped up on the bench to tie his shoes, Bradley noticed the row of jackets in front of him. He called your name. “You want a jacket?”

“Yes, please,” your voice carried from upstairs.

So, he grabbed your jean jacket, figuring it would look good with your dress, and got himself his oversized grey Navy crewneck sweatshirt. Maverick and Penny always liked to have drinks and dessert out on the back patio, and though it had been a relatively warm day for March, Bradley knew the breeze off the ocean would make it chilly later. Maybe they’d light the firepit and have s’mores? You loved s’mores even more than Bradley did, if you could believe it. 

Just as he had gotten the jackets and threw his sweatshirt on, you appeared beside him. And just like Bradley had thought, the dress looked perfect on you.

“See? You look gorgeous.” You ducked your head and muttered thanks. “Here.” Bradley held your jean jacket open and helped you slip it on while you put on your sandals. And then you set off for Coronado in the Bronco. 

-----------

After a lovely dinner filled with much chatter and laughter, Amelia and Penny dragged you upstairs to show you her dress for the sophomore semi-formal next week. This left Bradley and Maverick to clean up the dinner plates and get things situated outside on the patio.

It was completely beyond Bradley’s comprehension how to get Penny’s fancy fire pit started, but Maverick had a flame roaring in no time. The two sat across from each other - Maverick on one of the cushioned, wicker swivel chairs with Bradley on the matching loveseat - and sipped their beers in comfortable silence for a few moments. The sun had set about fifteen minutes ago, but the sky was still a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, and oranges. 

“So, how’re you really doing?” Though the question has been asked at dinner already, Bradley had just given a vague answer. But now that it was just him and Maverick, he felt he could be honest.

“Fine, I guess.” Bradley made a face. “‘s always weird doing some stuff again. We went to the store earlier; always takes me back that first time.”

“It’s the cereal. Too many choices.” 

“Yes, thank you!” Bradley exclaimed, glad he had someone who could relate. Every time he brought it up with Nat or the guys, they just looked at him like he had seven heads. They went from having few choices on the carrier, to endless when on land. “And the chips. Too many options and sizes.” Maverick chuckled. “We went on the way back from Torrey Pines to get more Diet Coke and I wandered off like three times just to stare at the oversized boxes of Lucky Charms.”

Maverick smiled wryly and took a sip of his beer. “You don’t look as tired as you did Friday afternoon, that’s for certain.” Though the way he’d said it had been completely innocent, Bradley still blushed.

“Yeah, it’s been amazing. You should’ve seen her Friday night, she was so excited to make dinner and the house just -” he broke off, “it felt nice coming home to someone like that, I guess.”

Nice? I guess? Bradley sounded like an idiot. It had felt more than nice coming home to you. Coming home this time made him never want to leave again. But the real test would come tomorrow when you went to work. And Bradley would be alone for the first time in three months. Alone in your big, quiet, house. It hadn’t been quiet in three months. There was always something else going on around him. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, he could do things on his own time and make his own food and pick his own clothes. He could have choices. Luckily, Maverick didn’t seem to notice his sudden unease.

“That was all she talked about last week.” 

It took a concerted effort on Bradley’s part not to be jealous that you’d talked to Maverick so much last week when all Bradley had gotten were emails. Beautiful, heartfelt, smutty emails, but emails nonetheless. Before Friday, Bradley hadn’t heard your voice in weeks.

“She did a really good job. The cake was unreal, I had a piece for breakfast this morning.” That got a chuckle out of them both. “It’s nice to see her comfortable doing something outside of her wheelhouse. She kept sending me pictures from her lessons and even cooked for me on Facetime once.”

Just as Maverick appeared to be gearing up for a follow up, probably about how he’d gotten the leftovers from those cooking lessons, Bradley rushed out: “But we really talked Friday night - about a lot of things. It was good, though.”

“What about?” 

“Kids,” the word slipped out before Bradley could think better of it, “family, that kind of stuff.”

Maverick pondered this and took a sip of his beer. “And you didn’t mind talking about that right when you got back? Seems like a lot.”

“No, it was good.” Not looking at Maverick while he was talking made it easier for Bradley. That way he couldn’t see his pity. He shifted in his seat. “I’d rather we talk about it now anyway, that way it isn’t hanging over our heads on vacation and whatnot.” 

The fact that Bradley thought you were keeping something else from him didn’t need to be brought up yet. He wouldn’t even be able to put it into words, it was just a gut feeling at this point. You just seemed a little off. The egg whites, the boxy oxfords, the chocolate cake.

There was hesitancy in Mav’s voice when he spoke next. “So, you looking to get engaged soon? It’s been what? A year?”

“Almost, yeah. But uhh no, no.” The denial was firm in his voice. “Probably still a year off at least. It’s gonna happen - we both want it to - but there’s no need to rush it. I’m excited for it to be just the two of us for a little while, you know in the house and everything.”

“Good, good,” he sounded pleased, “you two have a good thing going, I wouldn’t want -”

“- We’re not going to have kids until I’m out of the Navy.” Bradley said the words in a rush and he really hoped Maverick would ignore how thick his voice sounded. 

But of course he didn’t. Maverick snapped his eyes over to meet Bradley’s, but he was suddenly focused on a loose thread on the upholstery. Shit. Why had he said that?

“Oh.” It was a long time before either of them spoke again. Bradley finished half his beer. “Is that your idea or hers?”

“It’s both of ours.” Bradley winced realizing how defensive he sounded. “Well, I kind of brought it up first, but she was the one who said we’d wait.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Bradley nodded. “Jesus, Bradley, you’ll be at least forty by the time -”

“- Forty-two.” 

Maverick looked sad and Bradley hated it. Because he knew, without Bradley even having to spell it out why you were going to wait. Because Maverick had been there. Because Maverick had held Bradley’s mom as she cried on too many occasions to count. Because Maverick had taken Bradley to all the father/son events in the place of his own father. Because Bradley realized, as he had gotten older, that Maverick thought it was his fault that Bradley grew up without a father. 

“Listen, we both know that a million things can happen between now and then and maybe the timing will be all wrong, but we want to wait. If it gives either of us the slightest peace of mind, we’re going to try and wait.”

The silence was heavy this time around. 

“Well, I guess it’s good you’re talking about it now - even if I don’t entirely agree with it. You should be enjoying your life together, not waiting around…” Maverick seemed to think better of what he was saying and took a sip of his beer. A beat passed until he spoke again. “Also reminds me of some stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

Maverick waved him off. “It can wait until after your trip. Just some estate planning and whatnot, I know the four of us are in a really good place, so figured it was a good time.”

Estate planning? The four of us? The whole family was involved? Bradley’s curiosity was most definitely piqued. 

“Oh, err yeah, sounds good -”

“It’s nothing bad - promise!” he quickly backpedaled, “More paperwork than anything -”

“What’re you ladies gossiping about?” Amelia breezed onto the patio and messed up Bradley’s hair before she plopped down on the other end of the sofa. Naturally, he in turn had to elbow her in the side. Not hard, mind you, but hard enough for her to kick him back. 

“We were actually just talking about the dance coming up next Friday,” Maverick replied smoothly and Bradley stifled a snort. Since when had he become such a good liar? Regardless, Amelia preened. “I was just about to tell Bradley about your date…”

“What?!” Bradley exclaimed.

Amelia pouted, clearly put off that it had been brought up in front of him. He liked Amelia, he was protective of her, fucking shoot him. “Mav likes him!”

Maverick slightly cowed under Bradley and Amelia’s stares. “He’s nice, they’re on the debate team together.”

“Debate team?!” Alright, now he was putting it on a little bit, but as someone who had also been on the debate team in high school, Bradley knew that those guys were also smart, which generally meant they were way more trouble than the typical jocks.

Clearly misconstruing his comment, Amelia frowned. “Listen, I know you were rocking the middle part and puka shell necklace when you were on the debate team, but it’s cool now…”

“Puka shell necklace?” your voice chimed in from the doorway. “Pete never mentioned that when he was telling me of your high school heroics.”

Bradley’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, well, it was the late 90s and I thought Pacey Witter was cool.”

“The 1990s!” Amelia feigned hysterics and got a chuckle out of you and Maverick. “Next you’re going to be talking about where you were on 9/11 -”

“I was in kindergarten, we couldn’t go outside for recess,” you teased.

You sat yourself between Bradley and Amelia on the sofa and he threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer. He knew you’d get cold soon, but didn’t want you to run inside to get your jacket or a sweatshirt just yet - he just wanted you beside him. Plus, there was also the fear that you’d get one of Maverick’s sweatshirts from inside if you forwent your jean jacket and that just wouldn’t do.

Amelia groaned, but still turned her attention back on you. “Okay, but you were definitely Joey Potter, breaking hearts left and right. No debate captains for you.” She stuck her tongue out at Bradley for good measure.

“Ha, I wish. No, I was actually kind of lame in high school, very angsty.” Bradley knew why, but Maverick and the Benjamins were still in the dark.

“Really?” Amelia frowned. 

It was easy to understand her confusion since you were just about the coolest person she knew - her words. Amelia had told Bradley so the first night he’d brought you over for dinner. Can you ask her where she got her sneakers? A couple weeks later, you and Bradley had gotten Amelia the very same sneakers for her birthday. She always blushed when you wore them at the same time.

So, the next words out of your mouth clearly surprised her. “Oh, yeah, I was knee deep in Mazzy Star and Vampire Weekend. The dark preppy vibe, if that’s even a thing?”

“Jesus, I wasn’t even that bad.” Bradley squeezed your shoulder and got a smile out of you with his teasing.

Maverick and Penny were talking off on their own, so you turned your full attention towards Amelia. “I was in a car accident my junior year of high school. Kind of set me back with school and then - well, private school kids are kind of vicious so…” 

“What happened? Sorry - that was -”

“- It’s oka -,” you started to say, then seemed to think better of it. Because nothing about that night had been okay. “I was in a car with someone and we got t-boned. I got pretty banged up, broke my right arm and leg. It seemed like I had a perpetual concussion for the next six months. He just broke his arm,” you finished wryly. 

He. 

He just broke his arm.

Bradley pursed his lips at the mention of Teddy Cavanaugh. Fucking prick. To say you’d gotten pretty banged up was putting it way too mildly. Thinking about it again made him just as upset as it had that night all those months ago on your fourth date when you’d told him the entire story. 

And more recently, Bradley had had the unfortunate experience of meeting Teddy over Thanksgiving when Bradley had played golf with your dad one afternoon up in Berkeley. As a rule, Bradley tried not to hate people on sight - at least not anymore. 

But god, he really fucking hated Teddy Cavanaugh. He wanted to fucking deck him on the first tee at Claremont Country Club. He wanted to slam his nine-iron into the Porsche 911 he was driving. And Bradley was pretty sure your dad did too. 

It was such a cunty move to get the same car.

Plus, what self respecting twenty-nine year old still went by Teddy anyway?

But the truth of what happened that night wasn’t exactly appropriate for a post dinner conversation, nevermind the fact that Amelia was only a year younger than you had been that night. 

The realization made Bradley freeze. 

You had only been a year older than Amelia when it happened. Amelia, who still slept with the stuffed cow her grandparents had gotten her for her sixth birthday. Amelia, who still played with her American Girl Dolls when she didn’t get invited to a friend’s house on Friday nights. Amelia, who still made Bradley a new welcome home banner after every deployment. Amelia, who still huffed whenever Bradley ruffled her hair as a hello. Amelia, who Bradley promised he’d teach how to drive that spring.

You were Amelia. You had been that young, that sweet, that trusting and Teddy Cavanaugh had thrown it all back in your face.

Bradley could feel his chest tighten, even as he ignored the chatter around him. Maverick and Penny had joined in whatever conversation you were now having with Amelia, but all Bradley could do was sit there. 

Without a word, he pulled you closer, so you were bundled up in his arms. It was still proper enough in front of his family, but he needed to have you close. Your legs were plastered together alongside Bradley’s right side and you burrowed yourself under the arm he draped across your shoulders. 

Everything was right as it should be. Bradley was with his family, Bradley was with you, here. Not on a carrier in the middle of the Pacific or the passenger seat of Mr. Cavanaugh’s Porsche. 

Here. And nothing bad was going to happen here.  

Soon, the conversation changed to whichever HBO show Amelia and Maverick were excited to watch later that night, while Penny went inside to get the dessert: s’mores. 

“‘You need any help?”

Penny waved you off. “I’m all set, everything’s already measured out.”

Once she was gone, Bradley pressed a light kiss to your shoulder and you shivered. “‘You getting cold, kid?” You nodded. “‘You want my sweatshirt?” 

“Please?”

“I’ve got one in the mudroom if -” 

“No, it’s fine,” Bradley cut off Maverick, “she can have mine.”

Quickly taking off his own sweatshirt and putting it over your head, Bradley didn’t even have the time to linger on how pathetic he sounded. Who did Maverick think he was, offering to let Bradley’s girlfriend borrow a sweatshirt? Didn’t he realize Bradley was more than capable of taking care of you?

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, now cozy and wrapped up in the still warm sweatshirt and Bradley nearly forgot why he had gotten so huffy in the first place. Nearly. 

“So,” Penny popped back out onto the patio with a heaping tray of marshmallows, a bowl of chocolate squares, and stacks of graham crackers, “who wants s’mores?”

“Me, me!” Amelia called, pushing her way towards the tray and subsequently dishing out the marshmallow sticks. 

Little shit gave Bradley the worst one, even knowing Maverick wouldn’t have any and therefore didn’t need one. As payback, he kept putting his marshmallow wherever Amelia’s was. It meant that he didn’t roast a single good marshmallow, but the glare she kept sending him was too funny to make him stop. 

Eventually, after Bradley had to blow out yet another marshmallow - Oh, shit! Not again! - you took over s’more duties. Just as well, really; yours were the best. You turned marshmallow roasting into an art form - a perfectly golden, gooey art form. While you didn’t eat any with graham crackers, you did have one you roasted over the fire with the chocolate already stuffed in the marshmallow. You smiled at Bradley’s shocked expression and then wordlessly made him three exactly like it.

All the while, you answered Penny’s questions about how your dad and Mary were doing and when they were next coming down to San Diego and if they would want to get dinner with her and Pete, just the four of them? But when you started nodding off against Bradley’s shoulder, he knew it was time for you both to head home. 

-------------

Mon, March 22, 1:43pm

How was your meeting? 

it was fine, but ran over and i didn’t get to have lunch before my one o’clock ☹️

At least have a snack or something, don’t want you wasting away on me, kid. 

i won’t! what’re you up to?

Stopped by the base for a bit, saw the guys and then went to the gym.

I might get a haircut later. 

you can’t get a haircut without me! i don’t trust you not to get it too short! plus i like it a little longer 

Oh yeah? 

i like when it gets curly at the ends, it’s always really soft too. can you wait till after the trip?  please bradley please?

Fine, but only because you begged me…

i’ll make it up to you later, promise and i did not beg you…

Or you could make it up to me now?

Is the office busy today?

no  it’s pretty quiet

You wore that navy skirt, right?

yeah with my white silk blouse 

What’d you wear underneath it?

bradley! i don’t know, boring underwear? 

You wanna show me? Just to check?

you can see when i get home, i’ll even try and sneak out a little early 

Wanna see now

Show me

fine, just give me a sec. i’ll go to the bathroom 

No

At your desk

Now

bradley!

Sweetheart I’m aching

[image: Mr. 7.5 Gs]

fuck holy shit bubs what were you doing before you texted me?

Jerking off, I’m bored

charming

Wanna be inside you

fuck bradley wish i was home to take care of you god you’re so pretty hold on

Keep thinking about you in your office, acting all proper and then I’d barge in and fuck you on that fancy desk of yours

[image: miss ‘the one day i’m wearing plain underwear’]

God such a good girl for me

Are you wet

mmmm  getting there this is so hot unless i get fired

I’d bend you over

Take you from behind

You’re always tighter that way

[Sent with Siri]

bradley

Need your mouth on me

I’d make you get on your knees and suck me off in front of the window

Fuck your throat

[Sent with Siri] 

bradley you’re not playing fair

No you’re not

Need more pictures of you

[Sent with Siri]

What do you want me to do? [Sent with Siri]

Shove your fingers up your cunt

Knuckle deep

[Sent with Siri]

I’d have to use three to feel like yours [Sent with Siri]

Need a video need to hear you too

[Sent with Siri]

[for bradley’s eyes only.mov]

Fuck you’re fucking gorgeous like that 

Always do just what I ask 

Fuck I need you so bad 

[Sent with Siri]

Need you too fuck [Sent with Siri] i can’t believe you got me to do that at work

When are you coming home? 

-------------

There was something up with you. The thought kept running through Bradley’s head Tuesday evening while he was on his run.

Bradley would never have described you as skittish, but that’s how you had been acting over the last couple days. You were still affectionate and kind and you. And had told him countless times how much you loved him and how happy you were that he was home. 

So, it had to be a physical thing. You were guarded whenever he touched you - whether you were being sexually intimate or he had just grabbed your waist to cuddle you closer on the couch or in bed. It was always your waist or stomach area, really. That was the hot spot.

At first, Bradley thought he’d been too rough with you that first time back, but he knew you trusted him enough to tell him if that was the case, so that was out. Plus, later that morning when you were riding him, you’d asked him to grab your hips so hard he’d leave behind marks. You liked whenever he marked you - and he liked whenever you marked him. And you weren’t shying away from sex with him, not at all. In fact, you were pretty insatiable.

Then, he’d thought you might have hurt yourself while he had been gone and had a scar or something that you hadn’t wanted him to see? But your skin was free of new blemishes, baring the zit on your cheek you’d been complaining about since Saturday night. 

At one point, Bradley had even contemplated that you might be pregnant. He had been gone for three months, an entire first trimester. But something about the theory didn’t sit right with him. 

First, you would’ve fucking told him on Friday night, especially after you both talked about waiting to have kids and how you were on the same page. Because Bradley wasn’t dying in an F-18 with a family at home. 

Then, there was the fact that you had an IUD and the possibility of getting pregnant on an IUD was even less than on the pill (<1% a year - he’d looked it up). And finally, you’d be showing by now, even if only a little bump. But now that he thought about it, in all the days that he’d been home and all the times you’d had sex, Bradley had only seen you completely naked once. One or both of you were always partially clothed. And he would have noticed - right? Your boobs were definitely bigger, but it wasn’t - that wasn’t it, no, he was sure you weren’t pregnant.

It had to be something about your body, your stomach in particular. Because you were still affectionate, still wanted him, were still relatively yourself, your boobs looked great, and you loved him. So, why did you practically jump out of your skin whenever Bradley’s hand grazed your stomach? 

He would give you until Friday to tell him on your own before he asked. That would be a week from when he’d gotten home, more than enough time. Plus, maybe being on vacation would get you to open up a bit? 

Because this just wasn’t you. You didn’t really keep any secrets from Bradley. He wouldn’t be so naive to say that he knew everything about you, but in general you were honest with him. Was there a hint in one of your emails? Some little detail he had glossed over in his haste to read any scrap of news from you, in your voice? Bradley had read all of them at least three times, some even more, but maybe he had missed something?

The run he’d gone on to clear his head left the problem no more clear than when he’d set off forty-five minutes ago. He ran up the back steps to the mudroom and toed off his sneakers before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. You’d be home soon, he needed to start dinner.

Last night, you’d marinated some steak tips and made some rice pilaf, while Bradley roasted some vegetables. There was plenty of leftover steak for dinner tonight, he just had to decide what to make with it. Taking a peek in the fridge, he took a quick inventory of anything you’d need to finish before leaving Thursday morning. A couple peppers laid in the crisper along with an eggplant, which stumped him as neither of you liked eggplant. He could do steak fajitas with those? There were always fresh tortillas around. Content with his plan, Bradley grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino from the side door and poured himself a glass. 

As he put the bottle back, his eyes landed on the chocolate cake, perfectly ensconced in glass snapware, on the top shelf. How the hell was there still leftover chocolate cake? In addition to what you’d had Friday night, the two of you had had some for breakfast Sunday morning - well, Bradley had had some for breakfast Sunday morning and you’d let him feed you a couple bites. He shut the fridge door with a little more force than necessary and started prepping the peppers and onions. 

You loved chocolate cake. And you’d worked so hard on it. Why the fuck weren’t you eating it? Plus, now that he really thought about it, you’d barely had a s’more at Maverick and Penny’s and instead kept yourself occupied by lovingly making Bradley’s for him. And then there were the egg whites.

It would be a lie to say that none of it had seemed off at the time, but looking at all the incidents together just showed how truly off things were. And then coupled with how off you were with other things like your clothes and stomach - oh. 

No way. No fucking way. That could not be it. 

No, no. You couldn’t be worried about how - 

Just as he was finishing up the peppers to go along with the onions he’d already prepped, Bradley heard the back door open.

“Bubs?” you called out, “I’m home!”

“Hey!” 

“How was your run?”

Bradley quickly washed his hands and went over to meet you in the mudroom. And there you were, looking polished and professional in a black tweed, sleeveless dress that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse at before you’d left for work that morning, thanks to the blazer you’d thrown over it. The bodice of the dress was decorated with what he hoped were functional gold buttons that were just begging to be ripped open. And to top it off, you were wearing semi sheer black tights and those black slingbacks he liked so much. 

Actually, you were leaning against the wall trying to unbuckle those slingbacks he liked so much. But all Bradley could focus on as you asked him about his afternoon was the curve of your hip and the fact that your breasts looked unreal in that dress.

His pretty girlfriend. His pretty girlfriend who looked so smart and absolutely fuckable right now. His. His. His. His -

You stopped trying to take off your shoes and shot him a questioning look as you approached. “Bradley?”

“Sorry, I uhh - yeah, it was fine. Saw the Thompsons finished their patio - is that a new dress?” His fingers idly brushed against the fabric and you froze. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’ve had it for a while. Since the move, I’ve been going through my clothes trying to see what I actually wear and - I know it’s a little small now, it keeps riding up my hips a bit, but I still think it looks nice on top…” You ventured out of the mudroom. “Does it look bad?”

No, it very much did not look bad on you. It was definitely tighter than anything you normally wore to work, but it looked good. And weary from the work day with your hair a little mussed and the dress a bit askew from when you tried to take off your shoes, you looked absolutely divine and Bradley had to have you immediately. 

“No! I’m just,” he goaded you further into the kitchen, “surprised you wore it to work - in a good way!” 

The shy look on your face gradually slipped away and you crowded into Bradley’s space. “In a good way, huh?”

His hands found their way to your waist and he waited for a reaction from you. Getting nothing but a smile, his thumbs rubbed circles along your hips and he brought you chest to chest. 

“I gotta ask, though?” You hummed. “Do these really work?” He dragged his fingers up and down the front of your dress, spending the slightest bit more time along the square neckline and your breasts.

“And what if they did?”

Bradley groaned your name and rested his forehead against yours. “Then I’d have to unbutton every last one of them right now.”

You kissed his neck, paying no mind to the stubble he had been growing since Friday night. If you’d asked, he would shave it in a second, but you loved the roughness against your neck and inner thighs. As your lips kept up their targeted attack on his neck and jawline, your right hand slid between your bodies to palm his cock through his athletic shorts. 

“But if you did that, then you’d have to take me right here…”

Barely a beat passed before Bradley grabbed your hips and plopped you down on the kitchen table. It shook under your weight. Your chest was heaving at the sudden action, in turn drawing his attention to your breasts and those tempting buttons. They reminded him of the ones on his old Naval dress coat from Oceana. 

“Lemme help you out there.” 

His nimble fingers made quick work of the four brass buttons that revealed your black lace bra. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell you were pleased he didn’t tear off any of the buttons. Knowing you, his spoiled, prissy girlfriend, the dress was probably expensive. Good.

Next, Bradley pushed the wide straps over your shoulders, leaving your black lace bra as his final impediment. “So pretty,” he muttered into your chest. Your head tipped back and you pulled him closer, deeper.

“You didn’t send me any texts today,” you barely got the words out as Bradley made quick work popping one of your breasts, then the other, out of your bra. It was technically a lie; he had texted you, but it had been a do you know where my Theragun is text, not a show me your pussy right now text. “I even wore pretty underwear for you.”

Bradley tutted against your left breast. “Guess I have to make it up to you now.” 

His mouth latched onto your nipple and he needled the little nub with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair and gave the ends the slightest little tug. 

“Thought about you all day, bubs,” you whispered the words against Bradley’s ear before nipping at the lobe. 

“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 

Today was the first time since he’d gotten home that you hadn’t fucked in the morning. You had had to hustle out of the house for an early meeting and even Bradley had an eight-thirty physical at the Naval Medical Center. There had barely been time for a heated makeout against the refrigerator - to say nothing of a good fuck - before you’d left with your lip gloss slightly mussed.

“Would’ve come home sooner if I knew you were wearing these fucking shorts.” You slipped your hand under the waistband of his compression shorts that were borderline painful at this point and grabbed his cock with an expert touch. 

“Fuck…” Bradley allowed your touches to go on for a few more moments before he pulled back, knowing he’d spend in your hand if you kept this up. “Hold on.” You pulled your hand back and he yanked his t-shirt off over his head and threw it on the breakfast bench. Your hands crept across his chest before they eventually rested on his shoulders. 

But now it was Bradley’s turn to touch you. Your tights felt particularly soft beneath his hands as he inched higher and higher up your thighs. He loved when you wore stuff like this, so prim and proper. Especially when you got all squirmy beneath him. Cheeky little thing. The heat was pouring off you where Bradley was touching you between your thighs, even though your underwear and tights. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer and press your lips to his in a bruising kiss. God, he could kiss you for hours; he never tired of it.

“Bradley…” you sighed through his ministrations. “More, bubs.” 

He smiled, of course, anything for you. Anything to be inside you. But first, he had to ask: “These the thick ones?” You froze under him. “The tights? The thick tights? Like from Thanksgiving?” 

They had a more formal name, but he was focused on other things at the moment, namely if he could rip a hole in them to get to you faster. Over Thanksgiving, he’d found out the hard way that your tights were often rip resistant. Which really put a damper on a portion of your wine cellar escapades. 

“Oh?” The furrow between your eyebrows disappeared. “Oh! The tights! No, no, they’re cheap ones from J Crew or something.”

Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 

He had to have you.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bradley tugged at the seam of your tights and ripped a hole in them large enough for his hands - and his dick - to poke through. You sighed when he broke through the nylon and slid your panties to the side to circle your clit with his thumb.

“So good,” he muttered reverently. 

God, what a pretty picture you made. Dress rucked up around your stomach, chest bare, and pretty pussy on display just for him. 

“More, please, Bradley.” You whimpered while he teased you with one finger, then two. “Anything. Need it - you.”

“You get stressed out at work today?” You nodded and then burrowed your head against his neck, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. “Poor thing, da - I’ll take care of you, yeah. Make you forget.” 

Bradley thrusted his fingers deeper inside you, crooking them just slightly so you’d buck up against him. You bit his neck when he tweaked his fingers just right. There you go, just a little more and you’d be ready for him. God, he was aching. He couldn’t fathom teasing you anymore. He needed you, now. 

“Just need to slip inside you, sweetheart. You made it so perfect for me.” Wet. Hot. Tight. Perfect. His. “There we go, just like that, good girl.” Bradley took a moment to line his cock up and slid inside you in one motion. “Fuck,” he punctuated the word with your name, “good?”

“Yes, yes.” 

You got into a steady rhythm that kept increasing. The table creaked under your combined weight and had anything been on it, it surely would’ve toppled over by now. 

You tightened around his cock and met his hips thrust for thrust. A wave of heat swept over Bradley’s body and he could feel you slipping deeper into a lustful haze. Knowing he was also close and would be near useless in moments, he hiked your left leg higher up on his hip so your heel was digging into the back of his thigh, anchoring you to him. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Bradley said mindlessly. 

Your faces were so close, you were breathing each other’s air, stealing the word’s off the other’s lips. Yours and mine are the same. You cried out suddenly and snapped your eyes up to meet Bradley’s brown ones. God, you were beautiful. You both were beautiful. This was beautiful. Being together like this was beautiful. It was wet and loud and messy, but it was beautiful. 

Everything about it.

“‘m so close,” he finished with your name on his lips like a plea. “Wanna wait for you.”

“Don’t, ‘ll be right there.”

His thrusts eventually got sloppier and slower, but he could still feel you clenching around him as he spent himself inside you. 

“Fuck,” he panted your name. “That’s it, that’s it.”

“‘s full, bubs.” Your nails dug into his shoulder, centering him so he could turn the focus back on you.

All he needed was a few more shallow thrusts and a punch of your clit to get you there alongside him. You came with a cry, utterly spent, but sated. 

Your legs relaxed their hold against his thighs, but you didn’t totally release him. Meanwhile, he pressed kisses across your cheeks and lips, before finding himself notched along your neck. 

“There you go, good girl. Did such a good job, huh. So beautiful.”

It was quiet between the two of you for a few moments, all Bradley could hear was your breaths panting against his cheek, while your index finger moved lazily across his shoulder blade. But then you started shaking. 

And at first he thought it was from being overstimulated until he realized you were shaking from silent giggles. Bradley picked his head up from where it was buried in your neck and leveled you with a look that had you properly bursting into laughter. He wanted to make some smart comment, something cheeky, but the gorgeous smile on your face had him losing his feigned stoicism and he started laughing right alongside you. 

“So,” you said after your laughter subsided, “what’s for dinner, bubs?”

--------------

The following morning, Bradley poked his head into the dining room where you’d made up your office for the day. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why you weren’t using the office upstairs, but he held back. He liked that you were downstairs, he liked that you were close to him. 

Of course he’d seen you work from home before. But there was something about seeing you holding meetings and taking calls for the first time in your home that made him smile. 

And though you were taking a half day to prepare for leaving tomorrow, Bradley knew you’d be checking your email and Slack for the rest of the afternoon before officially logging off for the next 10 days. 

10 days in Punta Mita - just the two of you, no distractions, no emails, no training runs, nothing but the sun, sea, sustenance, sleep, and sex. 

Just you and me, kid.

Bradley inched further into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m gonna go for a run, but should be back for lunch.”

You took out your Airpods before responding. “Sounds good, how much are you thinking?”

“Probably a quick 10k?” It had been ages since Bradley had run his usual route through Balboa Park, so these last few days had been a treat.

“‘A quick 10k,’ he says. I should be done by the time you get back?” He nodded. “We can have lunch and then I’ll head out on my errands.”

Errands? “Oh? I didn’t know you were going out?”

You sat up straighter and fully focused on him. “Yeah, I have to get my nails done and then have to pick up a couple things - like your special sunscreen...”

“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily. 

“Really?” You sounded surprised. “It’ll be pretty boring.”

“No, I wanna come with you.” I wanna spend time with you. 

A bashful smile appeared on your face. “Okay, I’m trying a new salon.”

“Ditching your old stomping grounds?” Bradley asked, referencing your old neighborhood near Gaslamp. 

You nodded your head. “Figured I’d try someplace around here, but the only one that looks promising is way up on 30th?”

“I think we can make due with that,” he pecked your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you in a bit, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

“Har, har, see you soon.”

Bradley shot you a wink and set off. Who knew, maybe he’d set a new PR in his haste to get back home to you?

And sure enough, after his quick 10k through Balboa Park and the surrounding neighborhood, Bradley bounded up the back steps and quickly disposed of his sneakers and his sweat stained grey t-shirt on the mudroom floor. It had been stupid to even wear one in the first place, he’d had to tuck it into his waistband before he hit the first half mile. 

“New personal record!” 

Your face lit up with a smile as Bradley came into the dining room. “See, now, how do I know you just didn’t milk a 3 mile run or something?”

He rolled his eyes and gestured down at his torso, which was gleaming with sweat, even in the soft mid-day lighting currently cloaking the dining room, and showed you his running app for good measure. “Does this look like I milked it?”

“Come ‘ere.” You held your arms out.

“I’m all sweaty, kid…”

“Nope, don’t care, please?”

Hey, if you weren’t going to complain that Bradley was too sweaty or smelled, then he wasn’t about to put you off. He wrapped his arms around you over the back of the chair and put his chin on the top of your head.

“You know, if you like the scent of someone’s sweat that means you’re soulmates…” 

“Is that right?” You sounded amused.

Bradley burrowed his face in your neck, forcing a giggle out of you even before he pressed butterfly kisses everywhere. “Mmmhhmm, yup. You always smell perfect.” 

“That’s just my perfume!” 

“Nope, just you kid.” 

Bradley could feel you relax and let out a sigh. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, content to just be with each other, until your Mac dinged with an Outlook notification. You stretched your arms out in front of you to reply to the email, but Bradley didn’t let you go. As he watched you type out a response to your coworker about if ESG investments were just virtue signaling or not, his eyes caught a glint of gold on your wrist.

“You really wear that bracelet everyday, huh?”

You turned your head to look up at him and he was pleased to note you looked incredibly flustered. “Of course I do. You got it for me.”

The matter of fact way you responded had him blushing. “Guess I’ll have to get you the necklace for your birthday…”

“You better not!” He just kissed your cheek. “Bradley, I’m serious! That’s too much - especially for just a birthday.”

“Then I’ll get it for you for our anniversary.”

“Bubs…” You were pouting now and it only made him want to get you the necklace more. “It’s too expensive for something like that; I looked it up online.”

“You’re no fun.” 

And so he would continue to be denied the pleasure of seeing you in the matching jewelry - at least until he wore you down. You did have a point, though - the necklace was almost twice as much as the bracelet. But then again, you bought Bradley little (and not so little) things all the time?

Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations. Bradley’s reply that it was only for ten days, not two weeks hadn’t exactly done him any favors. 

But it was a points game! It was practically free. (He knew it wasn’t, but…) And you were going dutch for all the incidentals and room charges. It was going to be perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. 

Ten glorious days of no work, no distractions, just the two of you. 

You turned around in your chair so you were properly facing him. “Do you want to get lunch out? Make an afternoon of it? We don’t really have much in the fridge, so it’s either lunch or dinner out and I know you still have to pack.”

A smile crept across his face and he kissed your nose. “I’d love to go to lunch with you. You sure you won’t get sick of me? All this one on one time?”

You just shook your head. “Nope, not that easily. Well, unless you sit next to me at the salon, I’m not very chatty while I’m getting a pedicure.”

“Woah, woah.” Bradley held his hands up and you grabbed one to examine it. “Since when am I getting my nails done?”

“You’re getting a pedicure at the very least. I don’t want to have to look at your weird feet on the beach all week.” 

“Oh-ho, now you’ve done it.” 

He bundled you up in his arms and started tickling your sides. That was your sweet spot. And hopefully if he was tickling you, you’d forget to be jumpy when he touched you there. He hadn’t forgotten about that.

“Bradley! Bradley,” you giggled. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. No pedicure.”

But Bradley did end up getting a pedicure, even if it only entailed getting his feet buffed. If pressed, he would say it was because he wanted to sit in the massage chair and the nail tech told him he could only sit in the chair if he was getting his nails done. That was the only reason why. It wasn’t because of how pretty you looked while you were smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, like you couldn’t believe he was really there.  

Absolutely not.

--------------

“Do you need any help packing?” 

Bradley nodded, he hoped he didn’t look too sheepish. At thirty-six years old, he absolutely could pack his own clothes, but he liked when you fussed over him and made sure your clothing was complementary to each other. It was sweet. Plus, you always packed stuff he hadn’t thought to bring or wear together.

The two of you were a well oiled machine. Bradley would roll his underwear, pajamas, and gym clothes into his packing cubes while you helped pick out his bathing suits and later his dinner and day clothes. To his great surprise, you managed to fit all his clothes - for ten days, mind you - into his Samsonite carryon. His toiletries and extra pair of shoes and other incidentals would go in his backpack.

Once his suitcase was zipped up and ready to go, Bradley nodded towards your Rimowa stashed by the bedroom door. “‘You need any help? You don’t normally check?”

You normally lived by the carry-on rule, so it seemed out of character for you to check a full-size bag. Which, of course, wasn’t the first thing that seemed out of character for you since Bradley had gotten home. But he promised himself he’d wait until you came to him with your problem. Or till Friday.

“Oh, uhh, yeah, I guess I just have more stuff this time.” You shook your head. “I packed earlier while you were taking a nap, but thanks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then.”

“Hmmm, I’ll let you see my shoes?”

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his elbows. “You’d do that? For me?”

You giggled and then mimicked his pose on the bed, except you made sure to snuggle up next to him, all earlier awkwardness gone. “I’d do anything for you actually.”

“Sap.” He kissed you. 

“Nerd.” You kissed him. 

“See, now you’re killing the vibe,” he teased. You giggled and kissed his shoulder through his t-shirt. “You ready for tomorrow?” You nodded. “You’re not gonna get sick of me, right?”

You shook your head. “Never, even if you are a nerd who gets pedicures -”

“- I was coerced! The massage chair!” You giggled. “Alright, alright, walk me through tomorrow.”

At this point, Bradley was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while you were tucked under his arm, peering up at him. 

“We should leave by six if our flight’s at eight forty-five, especially if we want to go to the lounge beforehand. It’s spring break-ish and I’m not sure if it’ll be crazy in the terminal, so the lounge might be a good idea.”

“Got it, United lounge for breakfast, good.” 

“Flight’s like three hours.”

“Mmmmm, perfect for a nap.”

You chuckled. “I think we get in around one o’clock with the time difference and everything. The hotel’s sending a car and then it’s like an hour drive to Punta Mita.”

“So, if we play our cards right, we could be on the beach by three-o-one?”

“Oh, for sure,” you feigned seriousness, “If anyone can, it’s the two of us.”

And ain’t that the truth? Bradley held his hand up for a high five, which you heartily returned. “Nice job, kid. It’s gonna be great.”

Ten days. You and Bradley at some tony resort in Mexico. No cares, no worries for ten whole days. Fucking perfect. 

Everything was going to be perfect.

-----------

If at all possible, in the three months that he had been gone, Bradley had gotten even more handsome. 

Sure, you’d seen a grainy image of him every two or so weeks over Facetime and had noticed him mentioning going to the gym a lot on the carrier. You’d known he was going to look different. His hair was going to be longer and blonder and his skin darker. He was still your Bradley and you loved him all the same. 

But seeing him on the 16 inch screen of your Macbook compared to all six foot one inches of Bradley Bradshaw in person was an eye opener. 

Because you hadn’t been prepared for how it made you feel in comparison. Because he was so strong and fit and beautiful - and you didn’t think you were any of those things. Not anymore at least. Not after what happened.

Not after how often you’d been skipping pilates to spend some extra time in the office or all the meals you’d eaten on the go or out with clients. You should have taken your mother’s words to heart at lunch two weeks ago when she had told you to watch your figure, boys like Bradley are used to certain standards. 

That afternoon when you’d gotten back to your apartment, you’d gone straight to your walk-in closet and scrutinized every inch of your body in the full length mirror. 

Certain standards.

Why did you let her get in your head? Why did you let any of it get in your head? It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. None of it was true. 

Certain standards. 

And then, when you finally picked Bradley up on that cloudy, late March day, you wore an oxford of his and a pair of baggy jeans. You still looked cute, you still looked like you put in an effort, but you didn’t look as dolled up as some of the other wives and girlfriends and partners and maybe you should have? Maybe you should have worn a cute little sundress and forgotten your underwear or some other ridiculous thing? Let him fuck you in the back of the car right in the middle of the parking lot? 

That wasn’t you, though. That wasn’t either of you.

But Bradley loved you. He had told you in about 159 different ways (re. emails) while he was gone. He loved you, he wanted you, he was going to live with you, build a life with you. You knew he loved you no matter what you looked like. 

Certain standards.

But when he fucked you softly and slowly that first morning back - only after originally falling asleep on you, which you tried not to be too upset about - and you told him how much you loved him and missed him, you did so with the lights completely off and with your chemise on before snuggling in his arms. 

It was stupid. The entire thing was stupid. You knew that. And you knew you’d feel this way until you confronted Bradley and he ultimately proved you wrong. But doing that wouldn’t fully stop those feelings from brewing inside you either. 

And yeah, for the first few days you’d been too caught up in the ecstasy of him finally being home - in the home that you two finally shared - to really give it much thought. But tomorrow you were going on a ten day long beach vacation to Mexico and you couldn’t help but toss and turn all night wondering if you were up to certain standards. 

-----------

a/n: oops! this was super long, sorry! but there's such an interesting story here and i'm so excited to show how it'll unfold in the next chapter when they're in mexico!

tagging a couple people: @sometimesanalice @withahappyrefrain @cherrycola27 @notroosterbradshaw @gigisimsonmars @pisupsala @dissonannce @laracrofted @heartsofminds @briseisgone

[elainemorisi]

holy god, you think you're used to the Reddit Enthusiast attitude and then you stumble into the coffee subs. holy god

[clown-bimbo]

Despite being transmigrated to a world of magic almost completely different to your own, with a rich history and culture you know nothing about, you are still expected to go to school.

And you can't even get any of your medications for it.

You're like halfway through the school year, and you are stressed. Maybe that's putting it nicely. You are stressed, pressed, and depressed, and studying for a history test of a world you were never a part of. And on top of all the typical school bullshit, there's also your social life, Grim, whatever bullshit Crowley throws your way. There's also the crushing dread you'll never get home again, and the depression that comes with your situation and oh yeah the depression that runs rampant in your brain without the proper chemicals to tell it to shut up.

You're fuckin S T R E S S E D.

And your buddies are starting to notice it.

Hi, and welcome to the first horny addition to Stuck In TWST Without Meds. Today we'll be taking a look at how Cater, Trey, Leona, Rook, Vil, Idia, and Malleus might fuck your brains out to distract you from the fucking everything in your life.

18+ content below the cut. minors, this one isn't for you

all characters (including you) are 18+. established relationships.

In hindsight I don't think this is at all "smutty" enough so I'm sorry!!! But I'm really proud of how each one ends. Might go back and make them smuttier or make a smuttier part two idk but I like how it is rn

🍀

Trey already typically stays up fairly late, what with vice housewarden duties and all, but he's surprised to find you have him beat. When he left you in his room, it was with your promise that you'd be done in a minute. Buy he was gone for a good half hour longer than 'a minute', and there you were, still at his desk, furiously scribbling away with bags under your eyes.

Cute.

You don't even notice when he comes up from behind you to place a small kiss on your cheek.

"I think it's about time for bed, prefect."

"Just a minute."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

That gets you to actually look at the time. You whimper at the hour gone (and little progress made), but brush him off.

"It'll only take a minute."

Trey sighs and shakes his head.

He considers for a second leaving you be, but this is the man who got Riddle away from studying for treats. He's got tricks up his sleeve. Though he is about to use some very different tricks for you.

It starts with his hands on your shoulders. Innocent little rubs to your shoulders. Another kiss to your cheek. A kiss to your jaw. A kiss to your neck... that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. A nibble.

His hands are moving, too. From your shoulders, to your biceps. Soon he's taking your hand in his, holding it up to his lips.

"Trey--"

"Yes?"

"W-what," You suck in a breath as he leaves another love bite on your neck. "What are you doing?"

He simply hums.

His other hand gets to your thigh.

Your pen is abandoned.

💎

Cater whines your name from his spot on his bed.

"Just a second, Cater."

"But that's what you said an hour ago!"

He has that adorable look in his eyes, and if you'd only look at him!!! he KNOWS he'd have you in his hands.

But you won't, and he doesn't.

He flops back onto the bed with a sigh.

Until he gets an idea.

For a second, one foolish second, you think you have peace. Until you start hearing a quiet but telltale shlick shlick shlick.

His breathing starts to quicken. Then he's oanting. Soon you can hear quiet moans escape his lips.

And you can hear your name as well.

God damn it.

Cater grins as you finally get up from his desk.

🦁

Your stress is stressing Leona out.

He's lounging on his bed while you work on studying for Trein's test. Leona commented that you're taking freshman history, which is "baby stuff" to which you reminded him "I AM LITERALLY NOT FROM THIS WORLD, LEONA." And, to his credit, he did try to tutor you, but Leona is the kind of tutor that only works for certain individuals and you, bless your heart, are not that type.

So he gave up (lazy lion) while you continued to work. But he can basically hear your cogs turning from his spot and it's just not productive for either of you.

So, with a growl, Leona grabs you by the collar, only to start aggressively unbuttoning it.

"Leona-"

"Shut up."

"Leona, I-"

To which you are met with a 'shut up' kiss.

But you're pretty quick to forgive him once he has you on your knees under him.

"You're working too hard, Herbivore." He grunts from over you. "Give that little brain of yours a break and let me do all the work, alright?"

🏹

It's already difficult for you to continue studying when you have Rook whispering all sorts of French terms of endearment into your ear.

He's all over you, trying to coax you away from work and into bed with massages and the aforementioned French nothings.

Nothing.

He sighs, leaning back.

Until a wicked little idea brings a grin to his face.

"Mon amour," He whispers, to which you hum in reply. "I'm going to get a snack." Another hum.

A second later you feel a hand at your pants zipper. You look down to see none other than Rook, of course, hitting you with a closed eyed smile.

👑

Vil had been helping you with your homework. Bit even after he had stopped to get changed for bed, you had kept to it. And now you had vil worried about you. While he respected your gumption, you weren't going to get anything out of staying up all night and worrying yourself. You had used up your productive hours (quite productively, he would like to add) and now it is time for sleep.

He calls your name once.

...

Oh, this will not do.

He stalks over to you. He reaches out with one perfectly manicured hand and traces your jawline.

"Darling," He purrs. "It's time for bed."

"I cant." You reply. "I-"

"Uh, uh, uh, uh." He brings a slender finger to your lips. He takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to look at him.

"It's time for bed." He repeats. "Are you going to behave for me, or am I going to have to show a naughty little spud its place?"

💀

Let's be real, Idia's probably not going to sleep at a reasonable time, but he's also not staying up stewing over homework. If he's gonna have you staying up all night in his room with him it's gonna be—

W-w-w-wait, not like that!!! He was gonna say if you're gonna be staying up all night with him it would be cuz you're playing videos games! That's all!!

Oh, but now he's thinking about it... but you're working... ugh, but it's such beginner knowledge! But you're so focused... you... you wouldn't notice if he–

But you do notice. You do notice the 6 foot tall flaming haired nerd (affectionate) humping against you. It would be harder not to notice.

🐉

Malleus is concerned about his precious child of man. He can see how stressed you are. How hard you work. He wants nothing more than alleviate the troubles plaguing your mind.

And Lilia had a... curious suggestion.

Youre working away within your own dorm room when there's a knock at your door.

Malleus grins down at you.

"May I come in?"

And you say yes.

You worry about your work left upstairs, but you play the role of gracious host and prepare him a cup of tea. He takes a seat.

"You've been troubled recently." He notes.

You sigh. "I've just been stressed with all this work."

"I see." He's silent for a moment. "I dont like seeing you in so much distress." He confesses. "Might I offer my assistance?"

You blink. "Oh, sure. Yes, I'd love that. Thank you." You expect he's going to help you study.

You do not expect, however, for him to press you up against a wall and his lips against yours.

[swtsupernatural]

D.W || MYSTERY SPOT

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content Warning takes place a few weeks after 'Mystery Spot' 3.11, swearing, dean being dean, knives, and mentions of dean's death from 3.11.

Summary Angst, slow burn i think - Days have gone by and everyone in your town seem's to be on loop and you're the only one aware. Just as you're about to break down, two men in an Impala show up to lend a hand.

Ask @almostegg / @almosteggs : The brothers visit a new town that's stuck in a time loop. No one there is responsive and simply do their daily routine over and over again. Reader is the only one aware of what's happening and she is trapped within the town.

W.C. 2.2 k

Playlist: ♫ Picture Book - The Kinks, Bad Moon Rising - CCR, Your Love - Glass Animals

A.N. first ficcc so excited to finally get this up. enjoy <3 - claire

Gunnison, Colorado. It was meant to be a shortstop for the Winchester boys, mainly for gas and food. They were on the way to a hunt in Utah with what they figured was a Banshee, based on the news they’d heard at least. It was early November, and the temperature was declining everyday. People strolled through the small town in coats and scarves, cheeks pink from the cold. Dean could even see heat steaming off of Baby as he parked her at a random gas station.

“Oh, shit,” Sam muttered, his eyes leering over his book to see the bright orange symbol on Baby’s dash. Dean had just finished filling up his car and was inside the gas station purchasing a few bars and snacks from the teenager at the front. Sam came up behind his brother, his jaw clenched.

“Don’t tell me,” Dean muttered, tossing a random credit card to the cashier. 

“Car needs an oil change.” 

“Oh that’s just freaking great,” Dean turned to the cashier, a frown on his face. “Where’s the nearest car shop, kid?”

“It’s Steve’s Auto Parts, just down Terrace street on the left, but it’s closed right now.”

“Of course it is,” Dean signed. He looked at Sam through his brows before looking back at the kid. “Nearest motel?” 

“Now what, we just sit around all night until that damn shop opens in the morning?” Dean said through his teeth, tossing his back on the left bed. 

“Well, maybe we can actually get some sleep tonight. Relax, Dean, we’ll be on the road tomorrow before seven.” Sam searched through the restroom for supplies. Motel stops were the time to take things like towels, soap, and other stuff they could throw in Baby’s trunk in case they needed it. Sam sighed, finding nothing in the room except cracked walls and a small slab of used soap. “M’ gonna ask the front desk for some stuff, be right back.” Sam passed flickering hall lights, hearing conversations of guests through the thin walls.

“Good evening, sir, how may I help you?” 

“Hi, I just need some stuff for our room, thanks.” The woman at the front desk handed Sam two toothbrushes, some toothpaste, and a couple towels.  

“Have a goodnight. Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit, here's a guide.” The town didn’t often house anyone but locals, not having a large population or many visitors at that. It seemed like everyone knew each other. 

Sam nodded, “Thanks, goodnight.”

“Have a great night, sir.”

The next morning the two woke up at six, the motel alarm blaring an ugly, distasteful BEEP-ing sound. They both packed the little they had swiftly, heading out though the creaking door. At the front desk, the same woman from last night stood stock-still; that same fake-looking smile on her face. 

“Goodmorning, folks, how may I help you?” 

“Just checking out,” Sam put the keys on the desk. She nodded, grabbing the keys, and packing them behind the desk. Suddenly, her face lit up as if she had just remembered a forgotten thought.

“Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit here's a guide.” 

“Oh, thank you, but I already got one last night,” Sam smiled. She stared at Sam blanky.

“Have a great day, sir.” He nodded with tight lips, grabbing Dean’s arm and leading them outside.

“Dude, she said the exact same thing to me last night when I came down for stuff.” Dean shrugged.

“Probably just her regular spiel, you know how those jobs are.” Sam lowered his brows, his gaze on nothing in particular. 

“I don’t know, it was just weird…” Dean shrugged, “Who cares as long as we're out of here within an hour.” He focused on the road, more preoccupied with fixing Baby and getting on with the case they were supposed to be working on. A few minutes later, a large, rusted sign reading ‘Steve’s Auto Shop,’ came into view, the blue and red paint chipped away from weather and old age. Dean parked his car and walked hastily inside, Sam on his tail. 

“Hey!” They heard someone yelling. Inside, a woman stood at the front of the store, waving her hands frantically in the man’s face. She couldn’t have been much older than Sam. “Dad, this isn’t fucking funny, seriously.” The man stared at her blanky, before looking up at her, as if just registering her face.

“Hey, Honey, how can I help ya? Shouldn’t you be at school, it’s Monday.”

The woman groaned, her hands flying to cover her face in frustration, “Dad, it’s Thursday. Please, I’m begging you, stop this, whatever is going on, please…” Dean got closer and saw tears in her eyes. He approached her tentatively, making his voice known first.

“Hey,” the woman jumped at Dean’s voice, but she quickly looked relieved to see him, though Dean was sure they’d never met. She walked up to them impatiently, looking both of them up and down skeptically. “Are you real? You’re not…from here. You can see me right, hear me?” 

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re uh, real. What’s the matter?” Sam said gently, coming closer to her and Dean tentatively. She stared at Sam, then Dean, and sighed a heavy exhale. Dean knew that exhaustion she was feeling, he’d felt the same way before.

“Are you guys visiting?” They both nodded. “How long?” Dean explained how they had come last night and only meant to stop briefly, but was having car troubles. Usually he wouldn't give strangers his life story, especially in his line of work, but this woman was obviously in distress. An odd sort of distress. A, ‘supernatural problem’, sort of distress. She nodded, like she was trying to calm herself down enough to explain what was happening.

“I…I’m going to sound insane.” Sam and Dean gave each other a knowing look. Definitely their type of problem. 

“Trust me.” Sam interrupted. “We’ve probably heard weirder.”

“I don’t know…I woke up Monday and everything was normal. Tuesday, I woke up the same alarm, everyone was acting weird, like, repeating the same few things. And Wednesday it was the same, and I thought it would change today, but I feel like I’m going insane. I mean, my own father doesn’t recognize me, no one does. It's like they're all stuck. But I’m not. Heard that kind of crazy?”

Dean laughed, “Actually, yes. Uh, we might be able to help.”

“You’re serious?” She looked up at Dean, like she was finally seeing him, her eyes leering over his intensely green eyes and old brown jacket

Sam nodded, “This might sound even crazier, but we guess this is our buddy. Sounds like we’re dealing with a trickster.” 

“So…who are you guys?” 

“I’m Dean, this is Sam. We kinda deal with this type of stuff.” 

“What? The same day over and over? That kind of thing?”

“Not exactly, but I think we can help. I had to deal with this same thing a couple weeks ago.” She surveyed them once more, finally extending her hand, first to Sam.

She told them her name, and they replied this theirs. “Nice to meet you. Really nice, if you’re who you say you are.” She brushed her hair out of her face, walking outside, the boys following behind her. “That your car?” She asked. 

Dean nodded proudly. “Yeah.” 

“Nice.” Dean smirked, giving Sam a wink. Sam rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. 

“So,” Sam walked closer to you, saying your name, “Has anything crazy, other than this loop, happened yet? Like…someone getting hurt or…dying?”

“What the hell? No,” she stared at Sam with wide eyes. 

“Just asking,” Sam said, glad that at least she didn’t have to go through what he went through in his time loop. Dean sighed, not sure how he could get out of this. Last time Sam was stuck in one of these, he wasn’t aware of what was happening. Now the three of them were fully conscious and he still didn’t know what to do.

“We think you’re in a time loop,” Dean finally said behind her shoulder, making her turn her head slightly. Damn, they were tall. And this one was really cute…Jesus, she was stuck in a time loop, or something, and she was undressing this guy with her eyes. Not that he seemed to mind. 

Sam cleared his throat loudly and Dean and Y/N looked forward to Sam. “So, are there any odd sort of tourist attractions around here?” 

She shook her head, “No.” 

The brother looked into space, deep in thought before she decided to show them around, maybe give them ideas of what they could do.

“C’mon, let me show you what I mean.” She walked them through town, the same peoplee from yesterday strolling around town with scarves and coats alike. Suddenly, a hand sprung on Dean’s chest, shoving him to the side, a flower pot breaking where he stood. He looked to the side and saw her. “Sorry!” A woman from the apartment building yelled. Y/N mimicked her, a “sorry!” slipping from her mouth. They kept walking, and she prevented them from walking on the road, despite the crosswalk sign clearly flashing white. A car sped past, a police car following close behind. The boys kept walking, following her into a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna order a matcha, the woman behind me is gonna get a black coffee, and the man after her is gonna get a latte.” She ordered, waiting for her drink next to the boys, the woman behind her ordering a coffee, black, and the man following her ordering a… “Green tea, please.”

“Wait, he…” he winked at her, before looking at Sam and Dean with amusement on his face. Sam was on him in an instant, pulling him around the corner of the shop. “What, doing this to random innocent people, now, huh?” His face turned into a twisted smile that made Y/N’s stomach turn. The man’s face began to shift into a completely different one. He was still a person, but a nonidentical one.

“What the hell…” she backed up near Dean, and he put an arm in front of her space, the other arm reaching slowly for his knife.

The man smiled, “guess again, sweetheart.”

Dean lunged this time, his knife pressed even closer than Sam’s.

“You get her out of this before I end you here, and now.” Sam was next to her now, letting Dean take out his own anger on the trickster. Sam was almost still. The being under dean’s knife had left Sam alone and broken after dean ‘died.’ It was the worst time of his life. Losing Dean had turned him into a monster, and he hadn’t even told Dean everything.

“What did she do to deserve this mess, huh? Fuck with us all you want but she’s not a part of this.”

The man slimed in Dean’s grip. “You’re right. She’s not. I just…well, I got bored! Spun a wheel, of sorts, and landed in this town. Fate may have it that she won my good graces.”

“Get her out of here before I carve that stupid smile right out of your face.” 

“No can do, son. I’m having too much f–” Dean’s knife was in the man’s chest instantaneously, twisting like a dreidel before Dean forced it out of him.

A car passed, their brights flashing on the three, and next thing she knew, Y/N woke up in her bed, just as she had the last few days, her clock reading; ‘Tuesday, November 3rd, 2008.’ 

“Holy shit.” Something stirred on her floor, and before she could properly think, her knife under her pillow was on the figure in an instant. 

“Dean?” she had lunged at him, her blade nearly pressing into his throat. “What happened?” Dean looked at her with wide eyes. “This is how you repay me for saving your life?”

Sam, from the other side of her bed, laughed as he stood up. His face was beaming, smiling happily at the clock,“You broke it, Dean. She’s out of it.”

“Oh my god.” She released the knife from her hands, tossing it god knows where in her room before wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” she breathed, her breath tickling Dean’s neck, making him feel things he’d rather not admit. Dean smiled, helping her stand.

“Anytime, Y/N.” They stared at each other for too long once again, her eyes less shameless than before, causing Sam to speak up. 

“We should go…soon. I’ll go get the car. Be back in 30.” She smiled wondrously at Sam, but missed his wink to Dean as he left her room. It wasn’t common that Dean got with girls Sam was a fan of, but he did like Y/N. He’d give them a small slice of time together.

“So. 30 minutes?” Dean said too close to her ear for it to be friendly, smirking and showing his pretty teeth. She nodded, her face heating up.

“The clock’s ticking, Dean. We should get this started.” She grabbed his shoulder with one hand, the other curling in his hair as they fell back on the bed. Maybe Dean wasn’t in such a rush to get to Utah.

[averycutesalamander]

i know in my heart that boothill is a thigh lover and it's leaking into literally everything im writing for him 😭 there's just so many little casual things i imagine he does. NSFT (18+) stuff under the cut because i simply could not resist

Anytime you're sitting together, he's got one hand on your thigh, cold metal on warm skin. He loves picking you up and holding you with his palms under your thighs, supporting all of your weight with ease. He likes to lay with his head pillowed on top of them while you brush his hair or braid it or hold his face in your hands. He’ll playfully pinch at them every time he walks past you and dart away from your swatting hands, laughing all the while.

He gets SO clingy whenever you wear shorts or tight pants or anything similar, and he's SO shameless about it. He'll wolf whistle every time he sees you - I'm talking like, multiple times a day, every time you walk past him - partly to tease you and partly because he really does love seeing you like that. He'll say some corny shit like, "Where ya goin' with all that, baby?" or, "You're gonna kill me at this rate, lookin' all cute like that." His grin is always helplessly boyish, all teeth and mischief.

Look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn't the KING of oral. He loves the entire experience; your taste, your smell, the sweet little noises you make, the way you squirm - but the highlight of it all for him is your thighs. Clenched desperately around his ears or his shoulders or forced wide open by his strong, unrelenting grip. He loves the way his fingers sink into the plushness of them, loves feeling them tense and shake, loves massaging the tightness out of your muscles with gentle precision. He can never resist the urge to nibble at the tender skin, wary of your limits and the sharp points of his teeth.

He'll happily spend hours between them just to suck bruises into them or lave his tongue over them, bite at them or scrape his teeth across them - even more so when you get fussy and horny and desperate from the lack of attention elsewhere. He'd act oblivious just to fuck with you, just to hear you beg. "What's the matter, sugar? Ya need somethin' from me?”

Don't even get me STARTED on the way he clings to them while he's fucking you, oh my god. Truthfully, one of his favorite positions is missionary, especially when you’re the one below him. He can look into your eyes or study your face, kiss you or bite at your neck – not to mention the easy access to your body – but he particularly enjoys holding you by the thighs. With a strong grip, he can pin you down where he wants you or encourage you to grind up against him, split your legs wide apart or hitch them tight around his hips. There’s something terribly intimate about it all, and it drives him CRAZY.

Not to even mention thigh riding… good lord. Bare or clothed, he doesn't care – he just loves seeing you writhe against him, loves gripping you by the hips and forcing you to ride him. He'll keep you there for hours if you let him. One of his favorite games to play is seeing how many times he can get you to come from the friction alone, seeing how long you can last before you beg him to stop.

[ariseur]

So excited to see a new DMC writer on Tumblr 🎉🎉 could I request just some domestic headcanons with Dante?

domestic dante hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dante (devil may cry) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

thank you for this req!! saw the lack of dmc fics and decided to just make some myself lol. hope you guys enjoy my stuff 💕

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

few curse words? just lots of fluff mainly

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ oh my gosh please take care of DANTE because he honestly neglects himself and his place

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine you and dante doing dishes—an activity he absolutely hates—while you tell him all the gossip you find out

❥ he simply gasps and ‘ooh’s at everything, mouth occasionally dropping open at certain scandals

❥ he’s literally the perfect person to gossip with

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine running your hands through dante’s hair as you lather the shampoo, the suds tinted a dark red and brown from all the blood and grime of his job as he throws his head back with a groan

❥ whatever you do, DON’T imagine dante placing his hands on your waist as he tugs you closer to him, feet coming down from their resting spot on the desk so you could stand between his legs as he looks up at you with gazing blue eyes

❥ i am feral oh my goodness

❥ and definitely don’t imagine tending to the bruises and scrapes that he comes home with

❥ even though dante’s body perfectly capable of healing itself, he loves when you baby him

❥ because he’s at work a lot or is tryna pay off his bills, he loves just coming home and spending time with you when he can

❥ honestly collapses on the couch (or bed, whichever’s closer) and encourages you to join, face still buried in the pillow as he beckons you over with an open hand

❥ if you wear makeup and fall asleep with it on, dante will try his best to clean it off for you

❥ except he’s like.. rlly bad at it lmfao

❥ but the thoughts there!! he’s trying his best 💔💔

❥ the type of guy to call you the cheesiest nicknames tho

❥ like.. babycakes? really 😭?

❥ also gives light swats at your ass if you bend over, i’m sorry but it’s true

❥ likes touching you with at least some part of his body, if you sleep then your legs gotta lock or if you’re on the couch his arms around you

❥ but good luck because this man is a FURNACE

❥ if you have anemia / low iron or like any other condition where you can get pretty cold, this man is your lifeline

❥ read a fic about dante carrying like tons of bags after he spoiled you and went shopping with you despite not even having money to pay bills at the devil may cry and let me just say i am an avid believer of that as well

❥ you’ll literally be walking away from a cute necklace or pair of shoes and then you turn around and think wheres dante?

❥ then you just see him hauling ass towards you as he tries to keep up with all the bags he has in his hands while you spot the small rectangular velvet box in his hands

❥ ugh

❥ i wont him

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

DANTE watched as soft snores fell from your parted lips, hair splayed out below you crazily. he knew those would be a bitch to comb out later, but he couldn’t focus on anything else on the fact that the sunlight was hitting you just right, your skin coated in a deep gold as it reflected off your body.

you could’ve told dante you were an angel, and he would’ve believed you in a heartbeat. he’ll admit, he was a sucker for moments like these. even if seemed odd in retrospect, he just enjoyed seeing you so serene.

his eyes flickered around the room, trying to find a way to occupy his brain without waking you up before they finally fell on the black plastic remote that lay under your head.

dante’s hand slowly inched over, fingers almost tip-toeing their way over to you as he touched the remote. he was careful to pull it from under you, tugging it very slightly despite the weight of your head resting on it.

you stirred, making dante’s eyes widen as he paused his movements and bit his lip, even making a point so as to hold his breath. you licked your lips, dry from sleep as your head turned over to the other side of the pillow, sighing as you felt the coolness beneath your face.

dante exhaled in relief, before grabbing the remote and turning the tv off as he made sure to turn the volume down so you wouldn’t awake. even if a few minutes later you did anyways.

your eyelashes fluttered open as you caught dante muttering something at the tv, his eyes glued to some crappy reality tv show as they cut to an interview of a girl on the show. he scowled when he saw her, to which you softly laughed, tone gravelly from the thick coat of sleep still layering your voice. dante turned his head, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he softly shushed you and coaxed you to go back to sleep.

“‘s alright, just go back to sleep baby.”

“can’t really go back to sleep when you’re shit-talking the contestants, dante.” you smiled at him as he admired you, gazing down upon you as you stretched your limbs and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, attention turning to the tv.

“what season is this?” you asked. dante’s hand never left your hair as his hands ran through it, careful not to snag on any tangles before responding with a quiet, “three.”

and in that moment when you looked back at him, eyes filled to the brim with nothing but adoration, he could’ve sworn his heart had stopped. dante felt as if the sun favored you, because every time you stepped in it, somehow you looked absolutely ethereal.

yeah, dante thought, he liked these small moments you two shared.

myvampyrez™

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this is my only account. there should be no works similar or identical to mine under any name on any other website. i am not on wattpad or ao3 or anywhere else, only tumblr. i do not give permission for my work to be plagiarized, translated, or shared anywhere else unless it is reblogged here on tumblr.

[bearieio]

total perv...

(könig edition)

warnings: praise kink, panty stealing & sniffing, sorta possessive!könig, shibari, kinda needy/sub(?)!könig, reader teasing könig & vice versa, könig spoiling you

a/n: ugh ignore my poor german…… i have NOT been studying… BUT ANYWAYS...

pervy!older bf!könig who simply can’t shut up about how beautiful your body is and how he’s the only one who gets to see you when its totally ruined for him.

“meins… alles meins..” the way he compliments your every crack and crevice located on (and in) your body, calling you a “pretty baby,” every 3 minutes

pervy!older bf!könig who always has a pair of your panties in his possession. in his glove compartment, in his duffel bag when he goes to the gym, and in the lower pocket of his cargo pants. he takes a pair everywhere. 

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t help but stare at what is his. when you’re changing or getting undressed with the door cracked open, when you’re getting out of the shower, or even when you’re just sitting on the couch in your pjs. 

you’ll be changing your clothes before bed and see a pair of BLUE ORBS staring at you from the hallway, just gazing over every part of your body. 

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t keep his hands out of his pants when you’re away. 

he’ll be at home, on the couch, staring at pics of you on his phone, palming himself under his sweatpants at the thought of your mouth on him.

pervy!older bf!könig who can’t stop himself from looking at your tits whenever you’re looking directly up at him… resisting the urge to grope them right then and there..

pervy!older bf!könig who won’t hesitate to bend you over his desk and pound into you relentlessly if you just so happen to get a little snippy with him.

“want to say that again, liebling? huh? no?” he whispers in your ear, holding you by your neck, holding your small frame up against his much larger one, your hands barely being able to touch his desk below you. “oh… what happened to that little attitude you had moments ago, hm?”

pervy!older bf!könig who loves to have you bound and tied up, like a sort of present… just for him. (ugh shibari is so interesting)

he ties you up in hogties in order to tease and edge you for long periods of time.. loonngg periods of time. no matter how bratty you may or may not have been acting that day he’s definitely taken the time to practice different ties and knots with you, especially when they more elaborate ones that have you suspended in the air n stuff. “du musst fokus, liebling! here, give me your leg-”

pervy!older bf!könig who gets soooooo desperate for you when he finds his way into your pants. panting and practically drooling when you present yourself to him. 

“be a good girl and let me taste you, huh? schatz?” he’d go INSANE if you kept denying his requests. he’d get all needy, his hands inching closer and closer to the elastic hem of your laced panties “nuh-uh-uh!” you’d chime in, seconds before his hands find their way inside. he’d groan and beg s’more… and the process repeats until finally you give in and let him touch & taste you.

pervy!older bf!könig who teases you about both your height difference and age difference. calling you his “little bunny,” and “kleine maus,” and often pretending to use you as an arm rest. 

“how’s-uh- ....how’s the weather down there, hase?” he says, placing his arm on your head, leaning into you slightly. when you start to move from your position, he’s caught off-guard and almost falls over. 

pervy!older bf!könig who tells shows you how much he loves you by spoiling you ROTTEN! buying you plushies, clothes, new trinkets and gadgets to place around your guys’ bedroom.

he somehow always has a present for you. and at the PERFECT moments too needed a new phone because your old one was outdated/broken? BOOM he already has a new one waiting you when you get home. he definitely buys you CASES and CASES of those sonny angels and those smiski glow in the dark figures in order to show his appreciation towards you :)

masterlist

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Hi! I love your writing so much, you've written my fav smut of all time (I've re-read 'In dreams' sooo many times) So I've thought of this little scene and thought maybe this will inspire you to write something...

(I'm not a writer and I'm horrible with words so this probably is shit, but yeah...)

'"I love you so so much, you have no idea" Frank says while kissing your neck "Show me" you respond' and then smut (but in a loving way?)

Thank you ❣️

Hi Dear Nonny, I already thanked you for this message a while back, it absolutely made my day when i was feeling shitty and I want to say thank you again, and also apologise for this taking so long!

Frank Castle x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: some fluffy sexy love, lots of praise, unprotected sex, Frank being so damn fine.

If you enojy my writing please share/reblog!

|| Show & Tell ||

When Frank first realised how he felt about you it hadn't come to him in some grand spectacle of a moment, not even at a time when your lives had been threatened (which had been par for the course living in Hell's Kitchen). It simply happened on a chilly spring morning when he saw you sitting on the couch engrossed in reading a book. You had a blanket pulled up around you, one of the cups of coffee you'd made for the two of you cradled in your hand as your eyes scanned over the pages.

Your presence had made his apartment a home, something that had happened so gradually and naturally that he hadn't really noticed the change at all, and he figured that was because it all just felt right. Things were the way they were meant to be.

He watched your lips quirk up at whatever it was you were reading, some escapist fantasy novel probably. You loved that shit. 

You shifted your position and as you did, caught the way Frank was just standing there looking at you. “What's up big guy?” You ask.

“Just thinkin'.” He replies, sitting down next to you. 

You close your book and set down your cup on the table in front of you, turning to face him.

“Oh?” you say, waiting to hear him with interest.

Frank knew he wasn't going to wrap up this in anything fancy, that just wasn't his style. He was just gonna go ahead and say it.

His warm brown eyes trace over your features as he lifts his hand to the side of your face to stroke your skin, his gaze finally resting when he meets yours.

“I love you.”

Your smile almost splits your face. It's so big and beaming and he instantly mirrors it.

“I love you too, Frank.” you respond, leaning forward to tilt your head up and kiss him softly. He chases your mouth, brushing his own lips up against yours, gently encouraging you to open slightly as he kisses you again and you gladly let him. He tastes the coffee on your tongue when he meets it with his, and when you break apart his hand is still cradling your jaw, his fingertips light on your neck and you already see the deep fire set in his expression as he looks at you.

“You don't get it baby,” he's telling you, your body coming alight with the warmth of his attention. “I love you, so, so much.” 

You hum, closing your eyes as he closes the distance between you again, teasing a light lick against your tongue before his mouth roams over the skin of your jaw, his lips kissing and caressing the side of your neck below your ear as he whispers low, sending anticipatory little shivers running up and down your spine. 

“... You've got no idea how much.”

You tilt your head back in surrender, you can feel the passion imprinted in his words and you just know there's plenty more to come. So you open the door wide.

“Show me.” 

He always shows you in other less physical ways of course. Texting you the sweetest messages when you're at work or he's away for a couple of nights. Picking up your favourite sweet treats from that artisanal bakery he saw you making googly eyes at when you both walked past it one day. Or even switching his usual brand of coffee when you first moved in because of the hilarious face you made when he once gave you a cup of the stuff he had before.

But right now you barely have time to take a full breath before he's scooping you right up and sitting you down on his lap. With one large hand planted firmly on your thigh and the other curled around the back of your neck he brings you closer, your foreheads touching as you meld with each other. His kisses are teasingly short and shallow at first, like he's tasting you for the very first time. But with each one the tension grows even more electric between you, vibrating like a plucked bass string as the kisses you share get longer, deeper, and messier as he starts unraveling you. His big warm hands skate up under your soft shirt, his fingers exploring your skin, rucking the fabric up and baring you to him until you raise your arms and rid yourself of it completely. Not wasting a moment, you're pressing yourself back against his body and mouth as soon as you are able to. His teeth graze over your lip and you moan softly as he tugs at it gently while he tilts his hips up and presses his tented crotch against you. You allow yourself a sly smirk, sliding your hands up the back of his head and furrowing your fingers through his thick, dark hair watching his eyes close in bliss for a few seconds as you scratch at his scalp. 

“Show me, Frank.” You repeat. Your composure is shredding with how easily he then wraps one arm around your waist and stands, walking you both to the bedroom where he lays you down on the edge before pulling off his own shirt from his muscled upper body as you watch with hungry fascination. Frank leans over, caging you, hands either side of your head on the bed as continues to lay kiss after tender kiss, slowly working his way down your body until he's eagerly mouthing at the round swell of your breasts, pushing each one up in turn with his hand until they're spilling from your bra cups, sucking and teasing at your pebbled nipples until you're shuddering from the sweet sensitivity.

He continues downward, humming with desire as the tip of his tongue trails down the centerline of your stomach until he reaches the band of your sweats. You hitch your legs up automatically when you feel him curl his fingers around the waistband and drags them and your panties down your thighs, his mouth right back on your skin as hungry as ever. He quickly rids you of them and your cosy socks, rising back up and lifting your foot and leg to make space for himself. You can't help giggling as he kisses his way back up from your ankle to the inside of your knee but your light laughter very quickly changes to softer moans when those lips work up and up the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

“Love you baby,” Frank keeps on confessing, pushing the words into you and you feel the weight of it washing over like a warm wave taking you under. “you want me to show you, huh sweet thing?” 

You hold that eager gaze of his long enough to sigh out a resounding yes before your eyes are rolling back as soon as he puts his mouth on your cunt. Your back is arching off the bed challenging his strength as he has to curl his arms around your legs to keep you right where he wants you. When the warm, wet tip of his tongue slides through to part the moist petals of your vulva, you feel and hear him groaning deeply right against your core and already you're panting and writhing from his intimate touch.

But as good as it feels that's not how you need him. It's so hard to want to make him move when every time he comes up for a breath he's growling praises of just how perfect you taste under his tongue. You're torn in two, fighting with the need to feel him everywhere in every way possible all at once, but you need him inside, as close as can be. The scratch of his scruff against your skin combined with the soft sensation of his lips and tongue massaging your clit has you whining out a plea.

“Frank, Frankie please-” 

He looks up, still softly licking and kissing your dripping pussy between his words.

“Please what, princess? What do you need?” 

He climbs slowly up towards your face, urged on by your grasping fingers first at his head, and then sliding down his abdomen and impatiently tugging his belt loose to help free him from his pants.

“You.” you say pointedly, slowly stroking his entire length through his boxers. He swears under his breath and you feel him throb at your touch.

“Mhm, a'right. You sure?” He would usually takes his time, gets you ready first, warm you up with his fingers but you can't wait, you want to feel him now.

“Frank, please!” 

He's quick to obey and remove the rest of his clothes while you unclasp your bra, throwing it aside. When he moves himself over you you're already hooking your legs around his waist and pulling his hips down towards your own, his sensitive cock dragging firmly against the skin of your stomach and you revel in the desperate groan he makes at the contact.

You reach down between your bodies and wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, watching as you easily coax a few drops of precum from his tip, smearing it around the head with your thumb causing him to curse again.

“Christ, okay sweetheart, you ready?”

“Yes, fuck, yes! Please just-”

He draws back a little way, gently pushing your thighs open wider before taking himself in hand. He locks eyes with you, slowly sliding the tip of his cock back and forth along the length of your slick folds.

“Youre so fuckin’ beautiful.” he says as you trace your fingers down the side of his face, your thumb pulling down on his lower lip as you bite your own between your teeth as he nudges his way to your entrance. His forehead rests against yours as he takes his time, sinking into your velvet heaven with parted lips and a shared soft sigh.

“Mm, that's it. Nice n’ slow, yeah that's it baby.”

You want to cry, but it's not with pain. There's barely any pain, just the perfect stretch. You wanted this, wanted to feel every single inch of him as he fills you, want to feel the way he trembles above you as he savours it with you. He kisses you again, slow, taking his sweet time to explore your mouth, push those addictive little whimpers from your plush lips.

“Feel so damn good sweetheart, love you so fucking much…”

When he's all the way to the hilt he stills, giving you all the time you need to adjust. Every little movement he makes is bliss. You wrap yourself around him, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you tell him again that you love him back and he can't ever hear it enough. He begins to move, making love to you so tenderly, one hand bracing his weight on the bed and the other caressing your jaw and splaying around your throat as your lips meet and he kisses you deeply, tongue moving in tandem with his cock inside you. Frank wasn't sure if he could let himself love again, allow himself to be this open and unguarded, but you make it easier than he could have imagined. He never takes his eyes from you as he makes it clear just how much you mean to him, driving you crazy every time he opens his mouth to speak.

“You don't know what you do t’me,” he confesses, rolling his hips up and filling you so completely. You can only respond with a wavering gasp, clasping your thighs more tightly around his waist as you flow so perfectly together.

“goddamn girl, you don't know what y’do…”

You were certain you had a pretty good idea but you adored it when Frank was so verbal like this. He'd shower you with so many sweet praises, and sometimes get so worked up he'd run his mouth almost non-stop with filthy promises that he would always keep.

When Frank makes love, he makes love. When he hits that rhythm and angle just right he has you whining with pleasure and emotion with every one of his deep thrusts. 

“Fuck, there it is baby- such a good girl f'me… shit, wanna do this all day, you want that sweetheart? Just want to make you feel so fucking good honey, give you fuckin' everythin’-”

He cuts off with a deep groan as you tilt your head to suck his thumb between your lips, your tongue caressing and swirling around the tip. He watches intently, never ceasing the movement of his hips, groaning as you take the digit deeper while your big blown out pupils gaze up at him. 

“Attagirl, fuckin' attagirl,” he growls gently, twitching inside of you because of how much he's turned on, never ceasing to be amazed by how fucking sexy you are.

When he withdraws his thumb you chase it, a thin string of saliva connecting as he leads your mouth to his again, delving deep and lapping your tongues together. Your bodies slide and intertwine, you're sharing every single sensation with electric intensity, every clipped and hushed breath, pushing each other closer and closer to an ephemeral state of euphoria. When he bends to kiss your chest and he takes your nipple into his mouth you hum as the layers of pleasure build. He cups and paws at your breasts, lavishing them with such attention that you know what's coming next.

“Sweetheart, you wanna go on top? God you know I love it when you do your thing, please baby, I'm beggin’ you.”

You grin and nod. “Yeah, of course I want to. Let me ride you Frankie.” 

Frank easily rolls you both over so that you're now straddling him, your hands placed on his broad pecs as you steady yourself before you begin to move. You know that he loves when you're in control, moving above him like a goddess, and he treats you just like one worshiping every inch of you with his hands and mouth. He loves the way you move your hips, loves when you guide his fingers down to the crux of your thighs and take exactly what you need. He loves when you lose yourself in the sensation, giving yourself the permission you don't even need you to let go, to just use him. There's always such fierce focus in his eyes when you make love like this. He watches for the signs of the pleasure you feel blooming throughout your body like an unfurling flower, devotedly tending to your needs even before you know what they might be. 

His hands settle on your hips as you move them, almost to try to ground himself as the sight of your gorgeous tits bouncing and your own hands fondling them as you rise and fall on his cock is driving him precariously close to the edge.

“Goddamn that's good baby, that’s it. Feelin’ real nice huh?” Frank continues to fill your head with his sweet praise as you feel yourself getting closer.  “Oh yeah, there you go, like that, hm?”

You can only mewl in answer when he starts steadily thrusting his hips up hitting you at a deeper angle, your wetness gathering at the base of his dick and dripping over his ball sac each time he pushes home into your cunt. He brings his thumb to your swollen, needy bud of nerves again, spreading more of your slick arousal over and over, rubbing your aching clit till your walls start to pulse around him.

“Yeah, yeah, jus’ like that princess, that what you need? Can feel you baby, you're doin' so good f’me.”

You can feel it too, building so quickly you almost don't want the feeling to end. “I'm so close-" you moan, "I wanna feel you come inside me, Frank!”

You're an absolute fucking angel he surely doesn't deserve. He grits his teeth, never losing his rhythm despite being extremely close to the edge too. 

“M’right there with you darlin’, just keep those beautiful eyes on me.”

He watches your mouth open, your breathy moans quickly increasing in volume and frequency as you ride him. He tightly circles your clit faster, his dark gaze intensifying the very moment your orgasm sears through you, making you cry out as bursts of ecstasy come in bone-deep waves throughout your body. Frank doesn't stop, groaning loud and low in response when he unleashes, pumping his hips as he comes hot and hard, deep inside of you. He pulls you down close, wrapping his arms around you, repeating those three words, I love you, over and over as he slows down, gently fucking you through your high. 

When the two of you eventually still, you remain wrapped in each other. You can feel the powerful beat of his heart start to slow along with your own thumping strongly against your chest. His fingers idly stroke back and forth over the skin of your arm as your breathing returns back to normal.

“Mm Frank,” you murmur, so very satisfied you feel as if you could be glowing. Tilting your head up, you kiss him again. “You sure as hell showed me.”

He chuckles warmly, shaking you gently with his quiet laughter. 

“That was what you meant when you said ‘show me’, right?” He asks, and you smile back at him when you see that grin on his mouth. “Or maybe I shoulda left you alone with your book, huh?” he adds. “You looked pretty into it.”

You sit up, smoothing your hands over his chest as you start giggling. “There is no way in hell that was ever gonna happen, mister, not once you get something in your head. I know you…” you tell him confidently and the corners of Frank's eyes crease at that, you're not wrong.

“That you most definitely do, sweetheart.” He rolls you onto your side, carefully pulling out before pulling the covers up over you to stop you catching a chill.

“How about I run us a bath, sweet girl?" Frank proposes. "I wanna lay with you for a while. Does that sound good?”

“Mm, that sounds like heaven.” You nudge closer, taking his face in your hands to kiss him on the crooked bridge of his nose. “And I love you too.”

[lightlycareless]

This feels Naoya and Naohime coded 🤭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8RA51xG/

Hi anon!

Yes... yes it is. Definitely, there's no denying it. 🥺 aaghhhhh I don't have much to say since it's mostly written down below so I'll just jump to it!!

Warnings: none. fluff. Naoya and you are married and have 5 kids, Naohime is the last one that you ended up having much older :) you could say she wasn't planned but she's definitely wanted.

Happy reading!

I like seeing things like this considering the subtext that usually follows, in other words, since I always envisioned Naohime being around the time Naoya is more present at the estate… it means he’ll have more opportunities to record these little moments between the two and not just see them through his cellphone. (Being away from home, you doing all the recording… that kind of stuff)

 However, he’s quite disappointed that he’s not able to replicate the same level of cuteness you seemed to capture back in the day; while yours were heartwarming, a glimpse into your everyday… Naoya just shows how much of a struggling father he is, and how much Naohime doesn’t seem to like him.

“Oh, Naoya” you giggle upon hearing his dismayed lament. You had to leave for a few days to help out your family with some unprecedented clan matters, so naturally you miss your husband and baby so, so much. Thankfully, Naoya knew just what to do to remedy that.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think the same way about his own problem.

“I don’t think our peanut likes me that much, mochi.”

“That’s just how she always is, honey. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you; she’s always so excited to see you and play with you!” you reassure. “Though we do need to help her with that… it’s not healthy for her to have said outbursts…”

“I can agree with that, however, I think she wants to see you more than me right now.”

“Aw, don’t tell me that—it’ll just make me want to go back quicker!”

“Then do so. We miss you.”

“Ohhh, I will, then! I’ll tell my family to hurry so I can see my adorable baby and handsome husband.” You giggle, followed by a short moment of silence and a sigh. “Ah, remember when our kids were younger? It seems like it was only yesterday that we welcomed out little Naomi home… and now she’s almost 20!”

“I remember how giddy she was.” Naoya adds. “And talkative too—very talkative.”

“She was so cute too… I could literally listen to her babbles all day!” You gushed. “I wonder what she was saying…? Oh! Or how Naori would tightly hold onto my hand whenever we went out…”

“Now, don’t tell me you’re feeling—” he smirks, you shake your head.

“No, considering our age, it’s… too much.” You respond, almost lamenting so. Perhaps if the circumstances had been different, if taking care of children wasn’t so exhausting as it was gratifying, then… maybe.

Just maybe.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?” Naoya muses. “5 kids, almost ranked me out.”

“Yeah, we did. Definitely surpassed me.” You laugh. “I don’t know how we did it… but I’m glad we did. Guess my only regret is having paced them out so oddly; I don’t think Naomi enjoyed having a baby brother 8 years younger than her. It was clear she wanted someone to play with, not to look after.”

“No one knew what would happen, my love. But even then, I wouldn’t risk losing you.” Naoya responds. Though he agrees with your sentiment, he’d much rather... “I would’ve been happy nonetheless if we only had one child.”

“…Really? ‘Cause your long list of names imply otherwise…” you jest, he chuckles.

“What? I simply got inspired after Naomi—though I ran out of names by the 12th one.”

“5 was enough, then.” You conclude.

“More than enough, I’d say perfect.” He agrees. “…Thank you, for everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, we did this together.”

“But you made me feel deserving of a family—that someone like me is still capable of being happy.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do for the love of my life.” You add, his heart skips a beat.

“I swear that I’ll find you in our next life and make things right this time around, since the very beginning.”

“Just to be with you is enough for me, Naoya. However, I do hope you don’t take long in finding me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. In fact, I think we ought to prepare ourselves right now; how probably is it that we—ow!”

“Naoya! What is it?” you fret upon hearing Naoya gasp, followed by a sharp hiss. “Are you ok?”

“Ye—yeah. I’m fine, it’s just… Naohime here threw one of her toys right into my eye.” He explains, looking back to the baby who was now giggling—satisfied to have pulled her father’s attention back to her. “And the little devil is quite proud of it too…”

“Oh.” You say, both amused by her antics and worried about his wellbeing. “Guess our baby needs her papa more than her mama does; I’ll leave you to it, then. I still gotta do some things over here anyways.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.” Naoya says, pushing himself up off the ground and picking Naohime. She seems to retaliate for a moment, but eventually concedes, placing her small head on the crook of his neck while tightly grasping onto his hair—she’s not going down that easily! “Ah—We’ll be here for you until then.”

“Don’t forget to send me videos of my baby! And oh, be sure to get your eye checked too…” you add. “I’ll be coming soon too so just hang in there, honey. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me and our family while I’m away. I’ll be sure to… reward you.”

“You know you don’t have to, little mochi; but I won’t reject you.” He teases, you blush. “I can’t wait for the moment I’ll have you back in my arms.”

“Just wait for me. I love you so much, Naoya.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“Mnnah!” Naohime adds, almost as if she were bidding her farewells to you—or perhaps demanding her papa’s attention once more; either way, the two share another laugh before eventually hanging up, with Naoya returning to his baby and the demands she must have satisfied.

“Now, now, I’m here. What is it that you want, little peanut?”

Naohime blows a raspberry, making Naoya smirk.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Pa—pa!”

“Ah, so you do understand what I say? You just decide to ignore me, isn’t it?”

Naohime laugh once more.

A spoiled little princess, but he wouldn’t want her any other way.

🥺 while the most unruly of them all, she still has a special place in my heart. She's the kid that parents go far more easy on because she's the youngest and the parents are also older too lol. Still, I like to think that by the power of love (lol) she didn't turn out that bad :>

Anyways, thank you so much for sharing this with me. I hope you enjoyed this small thing I wrote! Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Love and Lying Pt. 1

This will fill the "How bad is it?" space on my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be bolded.

Summary: Will Y/N and Jensen love each other or live in lies?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Angst - reader. Smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Jensen being kind of an asshole. Also being a hero, and a rockstar, and the sexiest mofo ever.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word Count: 6,230

A/N: So, this is kind of a joint request from the lovely @candy-coated-misery0731, and @envyaurora95. They saw this picture of Jensen...

(x)

...and after chatting about it, decided to very kindly ask if I could write something smutty for it. So, I have. 😊

This was supposed to be a one shot, but it will be a short two part series instead. Sorry! It got away from me, and ended up with much more plot than I was originally planning on. 😄 I'm hoping to have Part 2 up on the 23rd. The second part will also cover a square in the jacklesverse bingo - "Rumors". Hope this first part, at least, was what you were hoping for, my lovlies!

Also, the Radio Company song "Ain't No Telling" features in the story, and if you haven't listened to it, click here to do so. Definitely worth it!

A/N 2: As always, of course this is a Jensen from another part of the Multiverse, who is single. This is an absolute work of fiction.

The beautiful dividers, both below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

January

“Hey baby! I’m sorry, I know I said seven, but…” Y/N heard Jensen’s voice booming from the living room in the five star hotel suite they were staying in for the week. 

He walked into the bedroom with his phone in his hand. He was looking down at the screen and frowning; his voice was distracted.

“I was gonna text you, and then I was - “ He looked up from his phone to see Y/N sitting on the end of the bed. His smile started and then stopped as his eyes snagged on the two packed suitcases at her feet.

The room was suddenly silent, the noisy, ceaseless traffic sounds muted by their distance from the street thirty stories below them. Jensen closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He gave a brief nod to the suitcases.

“You’re packed and leaving.” He said, stating the obvious.

Y/N folded her hands in her lap, trying desperately to keep them from shaking. But her voice wavered as she responded. “Yes. Look, I think…I think it’s time we admit this isn’t working.”

Jensen’s face registered surprise. “Oh.” He said quietly. “Oh, you’re…you’re LEAVING - leaving. Like, for good, forever.”

Y/N felt his soft words pierce her heart. “I think…” she tried to get the words out past the lump in her throat. “I mean, you can’t tell me you think what we’re doing here is…you have to admit that this isn’t working.”

Jensen shook his head, the surprise fading from his face. In its place came the stubborn set of his chin, and the mask of nonchalance he wore when he was avoiding something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do that.” Y/N said, frustration seeping in. “Don’t act like I’m crazy, like I’m making things up.”

Jensen folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can’t just pretend like I get it.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, frustrated at having to "explain" what they both knew. "I’ve hit a wall with you, Jensen, that I simply can’t get past. Can’t go over it, can’t go around it or through it. Ever since we’ve been together…this whole last year - ever since we decided to take our friendship to the next level, you’ve been keeping me at arms length. You don’t discuss things with me, not your worries or your wants. We don’t make decisions together, you won’t bring me into your life. We were so much closer when we were friends.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I think maybe we should go back to that.” She felt her stomach lurch as she made the suggestion. “Go back to being friends, I mean. I think you were happier that way.”

Jensen scoffed “Oh, was I?”

Y/N shrugged. “Weren’t you? You seemed to be. You talked to me about stuff then, seemed to value my opinion. Now, you just keep everything bottled up inside you. You don’t tell me anything, don’t share anything with me.”

Y/N stood up and walked to where Jensen was standing, anger radiating off of him. She laid her hand on his forearm. “Jensen.” She said softly, looking up into his face. He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Jensen, I love you.”

His jaw clenched and ticked, and she felt the muscles under her hand tense. She waited a moment and although she’d known she wouldn’t hear the words back - even though that had been her point in telling him one more time - the silence that greeted her still lit a burning ache in her chest. 

She stepped back, but Jensen shot his hand out to grab her wrist and keep her close. His voice was angry and exasperated. “Y/N look, do you want me to lie? Do you want me to just say the words and not have them mean anything?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “No.” She whispered. “Of course I don’t. I want them to mean everything to you. I want you to feel the truth of them in your soul.” She shrugged and pulled her wrist out of his grasp, pretending her heart wasn’t splintering. “But that’s sort of the point - you don’t feel them, don’t mean them.”

She breathed deeply through her nose. “And that’s why I have to go. I love you but…”

“No, that’s the fucking point, Y/N.” Jensen raged as she bent to pick up her baggage. “You love me, ‘but’. That’s the whole problem. You’ll only love me on your terms, on your timetable. You love me, but you’re just gonna walk away because I won’t play along the way you want me to.”

Jensen was breathing hard, shouting now. “You can’t just force me into whoever you want me to be, can’t just mold me and -”

“Jensen.” Y/N cut him off with a soft, gentle voice. She stood with her bags in hand and shook her head at him, sadness overwhelming her. “Jensen, I’m not her. I’m not trying to mold you into something you’re not. I’m not trying to change you - don’t wanna change you. But…” 

Y/N took in another long, wavering breath and finished her earlier thought. “I love you, but I won’t be in love alone.” She shrugged. “It’s too lonely.”

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away from her, and his eyes burned holes into her, the bright green was beautiful, but as hard as jade. “Just go then. Don’t bother with the platitudes. Dunno why you even bothered to stick around for good-bye.”

He spun on his heel and slammed out of the suite. Y/N couldn’t help dropping her bags to the ground and sinking back down onto the foot of the bed. Her stomach plummeted in disappointment once again, and as tears fell steadily down her cheeks, she was able to finally admit to herself that she’d been desperately hoping that he’d tell her to stay. It was probably stupid, but she’d hoped the threat of losing her for good would make him open up and let her in.

But it hadn’t. He wanted her gone. He’d much rather lose her than love her. For a wild moment she contemplated staying, trying to love enough for the both of them. But she knew that was impossible. She contemplated spending another year like the last, always doubting, feeling like she was so close to reaching him, just to have him pull away - just to watch him fall back into his charming ways, all smiles and quick jokes, and no real connection.

It was impossible, and it would only make it that much harder to leave later. So, she picked up her bags and said another silent goodbye to the man who’d hold her heart forever. 

“Be happy.” She whispered to the ghosts she left behind.

April

The bar was crowded and noisy; twenty years ago it would have been smoky too. The people inside were slightly rowdy, and ready for a good show. 

Y/N felt slightly overdressed in her little black dress. A few women wore something similar, but most women were just in short skirts and tube tops. The vast majority of guys were in t-shirts and jeans.

She sighed. Yep, overdressed.

She perked up slightly as she approached the table her friends were sitting at and saw Briana stand up to hug her, with Kim close behind. Kim wore a fancy top and sleek, shiny pants, and Briana’s dress was tight and black as well. They both looked gorgeous and Y/N was glad that at least she fit in a bit more with her own group. 

They were all here to watch Louden Swain perform their set, and Y/N was very excited. She loved the band so much; they were all such sweethearts, and she always had so much fun hanging out with the group. It had been too long.

As she gave both Kim and Briana a hug she was smiling wide, a smile that died quickly as she glanced towards the door and saw Jensen striding towards them.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispered.

Briana looked over her shoulder and then turned back to stare worriedly at Y/N. “He’s…I mean, he’s probably just here to support the band, you know.”

As Briana finished talking, Jensen walked up to where Rob was standing beside the stage and pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. The two spoke close together, straining to hear each other over the music blaring from the loudspeakers. Finally Jensen pounded his friend on the back and turned towards the table Rob pointed at, where all his other friends were sitting.

He froze as he saw Y/N watching him over Briana’s shoulder. There was a very long pause where no one moved or said anything. It was finally Briana who broke it. She pushed Y/N towards Kim who scooted her over to the other end of the long table they sat at, while Briana walked briskly up to Jensen. 

She gave him a warm hug and said something into his ear. Y/N figured she was probably telling him the same thing she told her. They were here to support the band, and that was all. The table was big, and the bar was incredibly noisy.

There would be no need for them to interact.

But Y/N’s night was effectively ruined. She smiled at everyone and bopped along with the band as they performed. But her mind simply wasn’t there, it was ten feet down the table where Jensen sat between Rich and a blonde woman she didn’t recognize.

Y/N tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but notice that the woman was beautiful…and that she kept touching Jensen. She laughed uproariously at everything he said, and she just kept putting her hands on him - touching his bicep to get his attention, or putting both her hands on his while she was laughing, her head bent towards his. 

Jensen seemed to be enjoying the company. He was talking with her and smiling, and he did nothing to discourage the touching.

As the band finished one song and were switching around some guitars for the next, Y/N leaned over to Briana. 

“Who’s the woman beside…Jason?” She asked, swapping out Jensen’s name with Jason’s at the last minute. But Briana saw through that anyway and gave her a sympathetic look. 

“I think her name is Tara. From what I know, she’s an old friend of Jason’s. But I’m not sure how they know each other. He’s brought her to a couple get togethers.” Briana shrugged. “She seems nice enough.”

Y/N nodded. “Oh. Cool.” She said quietly just as the band struck up the next song. She hadn’t thought her evening could get worse, and yet it had. And the worst was yet to come.

At the end of the song, Rob held a hand out towards their table. “I wanna give a big thanks to my cheering section over here.” The band clapped and the rest of the bar joined in. 

Rob’s smile was huge as he pointed a finger at Jensen. “Now, I need a little more help, onstage this time, and if we all cheer really loudly, we may just guilt my good friend, Mr. Jensen Ackles into joining us on stage!”

Rob finished with a yell as the bar exploded into cheers. Jensen was waving his hands and shaking his head, but the people around him were pushing him, quite literally to get up on the stage. Tara was pushing the hardest, shoving on his broad shoulder and then clapping excitedly when he got up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist in knots. This was too much.

Finally Jensen was cajoled, and physically forced onto the stage. He was smiling, but Y/N could tell he was nervous by the way he rubbed his hands together and then shoved them in his pockets. He bent slightly as Rob reached up to yell in his ear. Jensen seemed to think something over and then shrugged and nodded. 

Rob walked back to the microphone and lifted his hand and everyone quieted down to hear him. “Okay, so we always drag Jensen onstage to sing a song the band knows well, but we’ve all been practicing, and we really wanna do a Radio Company song with Jensen this time.”

Everyone clapped and cheered some more as Rob called out. “I’ll do my best to impersonate Steve.” He said with a laugh. “Okay, one of the songs we know well, and is primarily Jensen singing, is the song, ‘Ain’t No Telling’. And the man himself has agreed to sing it for us!”

There was more applauding as Jensen moved into position behind the lead microphone, and Rob moved into position a bit behind him, adjusting the mic stand there so that he could sing harmony. Mike started playing the soft piano that began the ballad, and the bar quieted down, ready to listen to Jensen’s angelic voice. 

Y/N, however, was panicking slightly, sure she'd never be able to take this. But I can't possibly get up and run out of here now. She thought desperately. It would be so obvious and make me look pathetic and weak. 

So she tried to brace herself, but still felt chills run down her spine as Jensen’s slightly raspy vocals filled the room.

Oh, the fact is Cold but true love Ain't no tellin' Who I am One day sweetness Next day laughter Followed by the anger Coming up from within Who are you holding onto now? Who are you holding onto now? When you need it And you know that I'm a little far away Ain't no tellin' no Where the hell I am Just believe in Every time When we feel it again Tell me, who are you holding onto now? Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Though Jensen didn’t look her direction during the entire song, she still felt like he was singing every line straight to her. 

He was so achingly beautiful, and so painfully, effortlessly sexy, it made Y/N's body thrum with want.

His hair had grown a bit longer in the four months since she'd seen him last, and it suited him very well. The honey and cinnamon colored waves fell forward over his forehead as he looked down at the stage, throwing shadows across his face. His eyes were closed, but even from ten feet away she could see the way his eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. His soft, silky looking beard did a beautiful job of perfectly framing his luscious mouth. Y/N tried not to moan aloud as she remembered the perfect slide of those lips across her skin.

Everything about him - his voice, his eyes, his lips, his hands - even his rolled up sleeves that showed off his muscular, freckled forearms - it all made her ache terribly.

The song's lyrics made Y/N’s heart race fast, and crack into a million pieces at the same time. She looked towards Tara, who was staring raptly and adoringly at Jensen, and swallowed harshly, throwing the song's question back at him.

Who are you holding onto now?

As the song slowed to its conclusion and the bar went crazy, shouting and cheering, Y/N put a hand on Briana’s forearm and shot her a quick smile. “Be right back.” She said, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the bar. She hated Briana’s look of pity and understanding. Y/N wanted to be nonchalant and cool about everything, but the wounds of Jensen’s absence were too fresh.

She stayed in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes just willing herself not to cry. She couldn’t go back out there with puffy eyes, on top of everything else. 

When she felt slightly less prone to bursting into tears, she washed her hands, took a deep breath, and faked a smile. 

The men and women’s washrooms were both down a long hallway, with the women’s at the very end. Just as she walked out, there was a guy walking out of the men’s room and wiping his hands on his jeans. He was medium height, with brown hair that was slicked back, and watery blue eyes that were slightly bloodshot. He wore jeans and a dark blue work shirt with a patch embroidered on the chest that said his name was “Bert.” 

He noticed Y/N and he smiled a greasy smile, the kind of smile guys wore when they hit on her, and were sure they were irresistible. Y/N gave a wan kind of smile in return, and tried to walk past him, but he moved to block the narrow hallway. 

“What’s your rush, cutie? Stay and chat awhile.” He said with another too-toothy smile.

Y/N’s smile faded and she shook her head at him. “Sorry. Not a big fan of chatting outside a bathroom.” She moved to the side again to show she wanted to walk around him, but he didn’t budge, and if she wanted to get past, she’d have to get physical - something she was desperately hoping to avoid.

But Bert didn’t seem to like her smart alec answer, and his eyes got colder by a degree. “Well, we don’t have to stay here, beautiful. Let me buy you a drink, and then,” he stepped closer to her and she gagged slightly at the cloud of body spray that surrounded him, “then let me take you back to my place, and show you the best night you ever had.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what direction to take - play along so maybe he’d move, and she could take off when they were out of the hallway, or just tell him to go fuck himself. If she played along she ran the risk of making him really pissed when she took off after, but she also ran the risk of pissing him off immediately if she just told him to get lost. 

Rather spontaneously, she simply decided she had no patience left in her for this asshole. 

“Absolutely not.” She told him firmly. “I have no interest in your offer. Now, please get out of my way and let me out of this hallway.”

As though she hadn’t even spoken, he moved closer, pushing her back a step. “You’re gonna love it baby, I promise.”

Y/N felt her stomach clench in fear and was just getting ready to stomp on his toes, or knee him in the nuts, or both, when she heard a familiar voice speak from behind Bert.

“Stop crowding the lady, asshole, and let her pass.”

Y/N felt relief flow through her as she looked down the hallway and saw Jensen standing just inside the entrance. 

Bert looked over his shoulder and lifted his chin in a dismissive gesture towards Jensen. “Nobody’s talkin’ to you, jackass. Just keep movin’.”

Jensen shook his head even though Bert was back to ogling Y/N, and wasn’t looking. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m only gonna warn you once.” He walked down the hall towards them. “Give it up, walk away, and your nose can stay unbroken.” Jensen issued the warning in a conversational tone. 

Finally Bert turned around to face him properly. Jensen’s size seemed to make him hesitate for a moment. Jensen had a good three or four inches on him, as well as about thirty pounds of muscle. But Bert's bravado and ego got the better of him.

“Bring it on, fucker, I’ve dealt with guys like you before. Think you’re Mr. Hotshot, but your nothin’ special. I could take you in my sleep.”

Jensen stared at him, two dimples showing up just above his top lip as he scowled, annoyance etched into his features as though Bert was a particularly bothersome fly he couldn’t swat. He shook his head and reached past him, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Y/N reached for him instantly, but Bert made the very huge mistake of slapping her hand away from Jensen’s. Y/N gasped, more from shock than pain, but she was looking at Jensen and saw his expression turn from annoyed to enraged. In the blink of an eye, his right fist came up to slam into Bert's face; a sickening crack sounded as his nose shattered and he fell to the floor.

Jensen reached over Bert’s prone figure and offered his hand to Y/N once again. She took it and he helped her step over the loudly moaning man. They walked away and were just barely out of the hallway, when they heard Bert rising up and bellowing in fury. They turned around in time to see Bert whipping down the hallway towards where they were now standing in the back part of the bar.

Jensen had just enough time to push Y/N out of the way before Bert was tackling him into an empty table and chairs. The two men crashed through it, splintering the wood and falling into the debris. Bert got in one good punch before Jensen rolled him over and began pummeling his face and body. Half a dozen punches later, the bouncers showed up to pull them apart.

There was a lot of confusion and yelling, and Y/N just stood with her hands over her mouth, stunned speechless. Soon, all their friends were in the back with them trying to make sense of what had happened. Thankfully, they sorted it out pretty quickly. One of the bartenders had seen Bert tackle Jensen, so the smaller man was just tossed out of the bar with a warning not to come back, or police would be involved. 

Eventually their friends began to filter back to the table, and the staff back to their jobs. But Tara stayed, cooing over Jensen’s purpling cheek and split bottom lip, coaxing him to come back to her hotel room so she could fix him up.

Y/N felt her stomach turn and her exhausted brain decided that she’d taken all she possibly could for one evening. She smiled at Jensen as he stood beside Tara while she ran her hands over his knuckles and tutted at their scrapes.

“Thank you.” She said simply. Her extreme gratitude for his rescue couldn’t really be summed up with two simple words, but that was all she could get out without bursting into tears. 

“Course.” Jensen said stiffly. He looked like he had more to say, but Y/N just smiled again and ducked past them quickly, admitting to herself that she was definitely running away.

***

Hours later, Y/N was sitting slumped on her couch, still dressed in her little black dress, heels kicked off under her coffee table, and an almost empty glass of wine in her hand. It was her second one, and she was just beginning to feel the pleasant fuzziness at the edges of her consciousness, when she heard a sharp knock at her door. 

Looking at her phone, she saw it was past one in the morning, and no one had texted her to say they were coming over. She sat up, but didn't move to the door until the knock came again.

She snuck up to the door quietly and peered out of the peephole. She let out a fairly loud squeal of surprise when she saw Jensen on the other side. She saw him look up at the door and knew he'd heard her. With no other choice if she wanted to try and maintain her “just fine” facade when it came to him, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

There was a full ten seconds of awkward silence as they stood just staring at each other. It may have only been seconds but it felt endless. Finally Y/N broke it.

“Hey.”

Jensen nodded and gave a fleeting smile. “Hey.”

Another awkward silence. 

Then Jensen shook his head. “Sorry, I just…uh…you left pretty fast, and…and I just wanted to make sure you were good. You know, from the…just with everything.”

Y/N smiled back, her smile equally brief and unnatural. “Yeah, oh yeah.” She waved dismissively. “Yeah, he was mostly just a douche, you know.”

Jensen nodded, and a beat passed before Y/N frowned and asked, “How about you?” She pointed at his split lip and bruised cheek. “How bad is it?”

He lightly brushed his forefinger against his lip, rubbing the cut there, and then shrugged. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Guy punched like a…well, like a douchebag, I guess.” He smiled again and it was slightly closer to his real smile.

Y/N nodded and was desperately trying to figure out her next move when Jensen pointed around her into her apartment. “Uh, do you mind…can I…?”

Y/N panicked slightly at the idea of letting Jensen in, but she moved back and ushered him inside “Yeah, sure.” He closed the door behind him, and now they stood awkwardly inside her apartment instead of outside. Desperate to break the torturous silence, Y/N pointed toward her kitchen. 

“Can I get you a drink, or something?”

But Jensen just shook his head. “N’ah, I’m good.”

So Y/N’s escape plan into the kitchen was thwarted. After a moment Jensen waved his hand around to indicate her apartment. “This is…new…nice.”

Y/N nodded, starting to feel like a bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I like it.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jensen looked slightly guilty. “I bugged Briana til she told me.”

“Ah.” Y/N said. “That would do it.”

A spasm of a smile crossed Jensen’s face and then he opened his mouth and started to say something, but then quickly closed it. He looked a little wildly around the room as though he might find the words he sought, written on the walls.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and spun around towards the door. “K, well, I’m glad you’re good.” He said with another careless smile thrown back over his shoulder. “See ya.”

And just like that, he was gone again. 

Y/N stood in the middle of her living room, completely at sea. “What the hell was that?” She whispered out loud to herself.

She stood in the same spot for almost five minutes trying to puzzle it out, before another sharp, loud knock came to the door. Without looking through the peephole this time, she just pulled the door open and wasn’t the least surprised this time to see Jensen standing on the other side.

Bewildered, yes. Surprised, no.

“Jensen,” she said with a confused shake of her head, “what on earth ar-”

She gasped as he cut her off by grabbing the back of her head in his big hand and pulling her into his embrace. His mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss desperate and slightly brutal. Y/N moaned deeply as he thrust his tongue past her lips to ravage her mouth, moving his two hands so that they gripped her cheeks and held her in place as he pillaged her tongue, sucking it into his mouth, and licking deeply into hers.

He shifted his lips on hers, and Y/N took the moment to try and come to her senses. She pushed at his forearms and wrenched her head away from him. 

“What…” Her voice was completely breathless and high-pitched. She tried to lower it. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tried to step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her upper arms and held her there. “Please, Y/N, I just…fuck I miss you.”

Y/N shivered at the dark desire in his mossy green eyes and deep, rough voice, but she shook her head. “Jensen…we can’t just…” She floundered for words, trying desperately to remain sensible. This was madness!

“I know.” Jensen said, dropping his forehead to hers. “I know, and I know I’m an asshole for coming here, but…”

Y/N could see, close up, his jaw clenching and the muscle twitching there, and it made her lower belly clench. 

“But,” Jensen continued, “when I saw you there tonight, in this sexy little black dress…jesus fuck.” He moved his hands from her arms to grip her waist, bunching up the soft, clingy material of her dress in his big fists. “All I wanted to do was rip it off you.”

Y/N was breathing heavily, as though she’d run a mile. A whine entered her voice, as she tried to plead with herself more than him. “We can’t do this…it’s not…” His lips just grazed hers, and his soft, minty breath drifted across them. 

“Tell me to go.” He whispered roughly. “Say the word - I’ll go.” 

They stayed frozen together like that for quite a few rapid heartbeats before Y/N finally shook her head, conceding defeat, and acknowledging she never had any hope of victory.

“No. Don’t.” She bit her lip and then looked deeply into his eyes for the first time in a long time. “Don’t go.”

Jensen slammed the door shut with his foot, and only then did Y/N realize it was still open. Jensen had been her only focus since he’d charged through it. He grabbed her head in his hands again and kissed her deeply, still rough and desperate. He walked her backwards until they hit her bookshelves, knocking down a few paperbacks. 

Jensen pulled away from her mouth only to dip his head beneath her jaw. He nibbled at the extremely soft skin there, before running his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder, pulling the straps of her dress out of his way so he could bare her shoulder and suck bruises and leave teeth marks across her skin.

Y/N desperately shoved his black button up off of his shoulders and yanked his t-shirt over his head. Her hands were trembling, and it felt as though her entire body was shaking in anticipation. When she finally got her hands on his bare skin, she rubbed them down over his ribcage, and then up under his arms and around to his back. She dug her nails into the taut muscles there and Jensen growled out a moan. 

Suddenly he pulled back from her and spun her around. She grabbed hold of the shelves in front of her as she felt Jensen’s hands grip the top of her dress. Without even attempting the zipper, he ripped it apart with a grunt, tearing the dress in half. 

Y/N wanted to protest him ruining her dress, but she lost all coherent thought as he reached over her shoulder and shoved his hand down the front of her dress. His nimble fingers freed the front clasp of her bra quickly, and he wrapped his massive hand around her breast, squeezing her almost too hard. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the puckered bud began to ache for more.

His mouth didn’t leave her body as he pressed her against the shelves. He trailed his lips down her neck and then down her back, pushing the two sides of her dress off of her completely. He pulled her bra off too, and tossed it aside. Left in only her black, silky thong, she heard Jensen moan deeply and then felt him step back from her slightly.

When she looked over her shoulder, she felt her slick begin to drip down her thighs at the look of ravenous need on Jensen’s face. She could see the way he bulged out his black jeans and she couldn’t restrain a whimper.

She turned towards him and then fell to her knees. She reached for his zipper, but Jensen grabbed her hands. 

“No baby, I can’t. You touch me right now and I’m gonna explode.” He pulled her back to standing and then grabbed the backs of her thighs, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. “And I need to fuck you, need to sink so deep into you.”

He spoke deliciously into her ear as he carried her down her only hallway towards what he must have correctly assumed was her bedroom. He kissed her as he carried her to the bed. Then he leaned down to place her gently on the mattress. She let go of him long enough for him to shuck his jeans and underwear, her mouth watering at the delicious sight of his leaking, red-tipped cock. 

Fuck he was beautiful. 

He crawled onto the bed and then between her legs. She tried to wrap her legs around him again, but he easily pushed them open. He stared down at her pussy and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

“Missed this pretty little pussy so much.” Jensen said as he laid his palm over her mound, fingers pointing towards her belly button, and then dipped his wide thumb into her folds to find her clit. The rough pad of his thumb circled it and soon had Y/N writhing, her hips bucking. Then he twisted his hand so that his thumb kept swirling around the hard little nub, but now his fingers could slide through her slick and then thrust deep and hard into her quivering body. 

Y/N screamed as he pressed against her g-spot making her come instantly. Her body shook as he continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers before sinking onto his stomach and letting his tongue take over. He flicked it back and forth against her and made her nearly convulse with pleasure. She came again, on his tongue, gripping his long hair, and using it to keep his mouth pressed against her. 

But he had no intention of moving any time soon, and kept her coming over and over. “Missed those sounds.” He said as Y/N shuddered and groaned and whimpered. “Say my name, darlin', I missed that too.”

Y/N grunted and then groaned as he slammed his three fingers into her particularly deep. “Fuck Jensen, oh fuck! Yes!” 

He smiled against her dripping pussy and pressed his fingers against her g-spot again, ripping another blistering orgasm out of her. “Perfect.” He praised.

Her throat was raw from crying out her pleasure before Jensen finally moved up her body to lay over top of her. He pushed her messy hair away from her forehead and kissed her, featherlight, across her cheeks. He smiled softly at her now, as she looked up at him, her expression thoroughly blissed out and her eyes hazy. 

“Missed your face like this. So beautiful, so completely open.” After a moment of watching Jensen watch her, Y/N’s mind cleared enough to register that his brow was crinkled in what looked like worry or fear. But before she could wonder about it for too long, he leaned down to press his lips ever so gently against hers. 

As he kissed her, he easily slid his thick cock into her body. She clenched around him and he buried his face in her neck as he spoke, muffled, against her skin. 

“And ungh, fuck! I missed this feeling. So tight and warm, so…so fucking perfect. Like…” He pulled out and slid back into her, moving incredibly slowly, savoring every inch. “Feels like - ungh!” 

He growled as her cunt squeezed around him again, and he lost all ability to speak, becoming wild and a little brutal as he rutted into her, ramming harshly into her tight, wet, heat over and over, until he was lifting her of the bed with every thrust and Y/N was screaming and clawing his back, shoving her heels into his ass, pushing him deeper still. Finally, he exploded with a shout through gritted teeth, and as she climaxed one more time, she felt the familiar, warm feeling of his cum shooting deep inside her and filling her up. 

They laid together, panting, for a long time. Everything felt surreal as Y/N began to float back to earth. It felt like she was in a very vivid dream. Eventually, Jensen rolled off of her and she moved onto her side so she could look at him. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and make sense of what had just happened between them, but Jensen put a finger to her lips and shook his head.

“Please, baby,” he said, exhaustion lacing his voice, “tomorrow, okay?”

He opened his arms, inviting Y/N to move into his embrace, and she did. She snuggled against him and pushed the questions out of her mind. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle some answers.

Yeah, tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off.

But when she woke in the morning, Jensen was gone. 

No note, no text, no explanation. If it wasn’t for the bruises and bites he’d left on her skin, she might have thought he was just a dream in the night, just a figment of her imagination. But he'd been there, and now he was just gone, taking all of her answers and another slice of her heart along with him.

Part 2

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Yandere Malleus Headcannons

This just came into my head one day.

It might not make sense.

But I hope it does.

(Omg warning, I'm so fucking sorry. I made this so much darker than I meant to. Um... TWs I guess... Uh... general yandere stuff, nsfw stuff, mentions of scars, mentions of burning, mentions of bleeding, there's some stuff about being tied up, amputated legs, mentions of amputated arms, dick horror, and forced pregnancy. I think I covered them all. Lemme know if I missed anything)

Every day is the same, and yet always different.

You always do something with Malleus.

And you always have to keep your eyes on him.

Great Seven forbid you ever look at anyone else.

(The screams will never leave your dreams)

Yet, he always finds somewhere new.

A new garden, a new cafe, a new park.

But you're never really allowed to do anything.

You sit.

You watch.

You smile when Malleus looks at you.

(After all, this pain is better than the pain he gives)

You say you enjoyed your day.

(You regret the days you didn't. Those scars never fade)

And you go home.

You eat.

Maybe read a book as he works.

And you hope he's too tired to want anything else.

But don't worry! He always has time for his love!

He'll wait until you finish your book.

You might read slow, but that just means you're enjoying it.

And that makes him happy.

You never run out of books.

Malleus makes sure of that!

And once your done, he'll take you back to your shared room.

And he'll toss you to the bed.

He's always so careful with you.

(He's not a complete monster, after all.)

(Right?)

And he'll make love to you.

It'll be so sweet.

And then he'll keep going.

And going.

Oh, you're tired?

WELL YOU'RE LYING!

YOU JUST WANT TO LEAVE HIM!

Uh oh.

You made him mad.

Now you have new scars.

And you're still going into the morning.

Don't worry, though.

He'll give you time to clean up and get dressed.

After all, it's a new day.

That means it's time for something new.

(So, this wasn't how this was supposed to go at all..... Hmm.... I'll make some more below this then to fit what I was actually trying to make this about. Idk if this'll be in the same world as the ones above, but I don't think it really matters)

Humans are just so fragile.

He takes you on one date and you hurt yourself.

It's your fault, really.

You backed away when he tried to kiss you.

It was your fault you fell into that flame.

Really, how reckless can one be?

Of course, he made sure you knew how mad he was as well.

You had talked to that other fae.

He had to show who you belonged to.

And you backed away.

How dare you.

Not to worry though!

Now you're safe at home!

You can't hurt yourself if you're tied down, right?

Nowhere to move.

Nowhere to go.

Now Malleus can take care of you completely.

He'll feed you.

Bathe you.

Sleep with you.

Love you.

Care for you.

(Fuck you until you bleed and sob and beg for it to end)

And yet, you still try to leave.

Stupid human.

You're lucky he loves you.

(Below is split between a gn, male, and female reader. That way, you can have a personalized ending!)

GN

You don't need your legs, right?

He already broke them, but that didn't work.

So he'll just take them.

Now he gets to carry you everywhere!

Oh, you miss walking by yourself?

No worries!

He'll hang your feet above the fireplace for you to see!

That way, you can simply remember how it felt to walk!

But if you keep being defiant, he'll take your arms next.

MALE

WHY DO YOU KEEP LOOKING AT OTHER PEOPLE?!

IS HE NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?!

You make him so mad sometimes.

But he loves you too much to do anything horrible to you.

Yet, when he sees you hard in the morning, he's mad.

You say it's a normal bodily function, but that can't be true.

You were thinking about someone else.

He knows it wasn't about him.

You're so unfaithful.

So, now you can't get hard.

You can't cum anymore.

You have to have help pissing.

Sure, he misses messing with your cute little dick.

But this way, you remain faithful to him.

FEMALE

Oh, you noticed the baby books Malleus keeps giving you?

He's glad.

You are aware he needs an heir, yes?

Won't you help him with that?

.......

no?

No?

NO?!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!

Well guess what, you don't get a choice anymore!

You're already tied down.

And even though your screams hurt him inside,

(They don't, they make him oh so hard for you),

He still wants an heir.

So he'll fuck you.

And fuck you.

And fuck you.

Until you're pregnant.

And even then, he'll keep going.

Cause now he wants as many babies as possible.

And you'll have to care for them all with him.

He's sure you'll be an excellent mother.

(These was fucking insane. I didn't mean to make them so dark. Also, I did have a reason for putting gn, then male, then female. If I ever do this again, that order will stay the same. Idk if I'll do this again, but if someone asks, then maybe I will. But I'll need an idea for it, cause coming up with ideas is hard.)

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

[orgasming-caterpillar]

ENTERTAIN ME, PEASANT

I want some horny raghveer headcanons

Welcome to doyh headcanons which are basically canon because I'm the author:

*warning, I am UNHINGED below the cut I have been waiting for someone to ask me this question*

If you think any of my characters would be monochrome enough to be a top or bottom you are very wrong. They are both switches/versatile. Although Raghav leans more on the submissive side, Ranveer only recently discovered his own sexuality and I doubt he would be reckless enough to try and take control

SUBBY RANVEER SUBBY RANVEER SUBBY RANVEER SUBBY RANVEE-

When I say 'would' I mean 'definitely will'. 'i think' translates to 'i am the writer and this is the truth'. Now that that's out of the way-

I think both of them would be pretty vocal, Raghav is noisy. Not that anyone's complaning (except their neighbours).

Ranveer loves the way his voice gets all high pitched and whiny and can't help but mutter a 'good boy' in his ear aldjfhgd

Yeah so Raghav is noisy, whether he's bottoming or not. And seriously, who's blaming him? You're telling me you could have Ranveer's glorious thighs wrapped around you and stay quiet? Bullshit.

Ranveer would be quieter, but not less vocal.

VERY big on praise (I would sell my house and body on the streets just to be called a good boy by him ONCE)

As they are right now,I don't believe either of them would be comfortable with degradation for a long while to come. Ranveer, because, well, he's Ranveer. And Raghav, he could not handle mean words from Ranveer sorry to burst your bubble.

When they've been dating for a good while, though, they will definitely be willing to try out more stuff. It simply wouldn't be realistic that they go full yaoi on the first time. BL kam padha karo bbgs, let my babies develop their relationship on their own terms.

Oh and yeah, Raghav bites.

And scratches. (I pity Ranveer's back)

Ranveer once jokingly said that Raghav should either keep his nails short or Ranveer would need to tie his hands up. Raghav promptly turned bright red. Are you getting my point?

Ranveer *sigh* someone put a blindfold on this man. He works SO DAMN HARD, ALL THE DAMN TIME, let him have his peace.

Just laying there, unable to see or touch, knowing Raghav will take care of him, is enough to make a remarkable amount of blood rush south to his-

Theyre pretty affection starved, so they both mkae sure to give more than enough praise and reassurance before, during and after.

Ahhhh I don't know if this counts as horny headcanons or sexual psychoanalysis, but this is what you get from me. I love these idiots sm <333

[flowersonpebbles]

Week 1: Origins 3. Faith – Dallas

@elfroot-and-laurels

TW: angst, possession(?)

Dallas grew up learning the Chant, of Andraste and the Maker and it was all fine and well enough, but he always questioned so much of it and no one ever approved of his questioning – thus he stopped and let them talk and sing. Never really believing, he believed Leliana’s dream, not necessarily from the Maker, but he believed in her believing it. Even at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, he had questions, wondering constantly. A spirit, not aggressive, but then the others were and he called them brothers once. So the Chantry lied about all spirits being demons and the spirit of Valor in his Harrowing was no lie… so if a spirit could change its nature, could a demon as well? Like Sloth who did not attack him and Mouse… and Mouse who was so kind and scared… until Dallas started thinking maybe he was the enemy instead and changed so quickly...

(big stuff below the cut, very long and not really part of the origin part anymore but I got carried away and it wouldn’t feel right to add to the travel week instead, so… read if you want I guess? Just thoughts/theories and my boi being curious but I don’t go too deep into anything I think)

Morrigan and Wynne both also made him question everything. Morrigan was so casual and powerful without any need of the Circle or the Chantry. And Wynne is essentially possessed by a spirit… Morrigan answered some questions but she was not open to debate much… the same for Wynne…

He was too much in a hurry the first time he met the Dalish, he could only scribble down when resting what he could find on their beliefs… and again, he had so many questions. These people believed in forever living, simply going to sleep instead of dying? Of different Gods and what they stand for. It almost made sense to him, but again…

Why worship these divine beings when they do not intervene? The Maker did not save his beloved Andraste, nor did the Creators save their worshippers from being slain?

Some Dalish were upset by his questioning and once again he was left to stay quiet with his questions and had to move on once Zathrian and the Lady of the Forest had met their ends together after much fighting… and yet again… A spirit that caused a curse yet soothed those who were cursed out of kindness…trees that were all feral but for one who spoke in rhymes and polite… what oddities the world has and no one wishes to look deeper…

In Orzammar, he learned of some of their beliefs and culture, a lot of it was upsetting to him. How could you rebuke a baby for being born from someone you regard as nothing as also nothing without even trying to help the babe or teach it anything else? Or for leaving so bravely and they no longer are seen as your own, also nothing now? But without either nothings, you’re oblivious or too aware of how much you rely on them to show a system that gives you power? And not to even speak of how grimly the fates of Grey Wardens and the Legion of the Dead is intertwined… No, Bhelen might have been a little too bloodthirsty but at least he wanted to change their system. They believe in the Stone that keeps them housed and lets them build and mine… physical, not always practical in Dallas’ eyes but it’s better than something not there.

Once the Blight was over, he went with Sten for a time, Zevran followed along, of course. Very practical people, if stifling for Dallas. You have a role; you have your responsibilities in that role. It makes life easy and straight forward, yet where is the choices? The will to actually try and learn something you’re not naturally adapted to? Oh, and not to even speak of how he needed to hide his magic, Sten was very stern about this. He saw why once… he was terrified then; the questions were quick to quiet down afterwards and they even bid Sten a sad goodbye as he and Zevran left to go back home almost quicker…

They ventured back down to the Wilds; Dallas wanted to see and learn a bit from the Chasind. They were also practical; shamans are taught from the Witch of the Wilds. Flemeth. If it were Morrigan’s mother, he was not sure. But at least they weren’t as skittish of magic as others. He saw beauty in their way of portraying the seasons as women… they admired him for his control of magic being able to aid him in battle with actual weapons and armor. And his mind wandered to even more questions in their beliefs though… and so his cycle of being rejected keeps happening.

Zevran never rejected his questioning, always indulging him, actually. The Rivaini Seers fascinate Dallas so… They believe the spirits, the universe and any gods to be the same! The Rivaini Seers communicate with spirits, lets them possess them. Yet abominations happen so rarely there apparently! How utterly fascinating it is to listen to Zevran speak… he hopes to go to Rivain with him one day!

They travelled back North, passing by Avvar in the meantime… they fascinated Dallas just as much. Also worshipping different Gods of elements, like the Sky or Ocean… but they also openly enjoy spirits, the Augur commune with the spirits, they also call them Gods! He also noticed that the Avvar are ever changing, nothing is in a standstill or stagnant. His questions were met with skepticism but they were still answered openly. A breath of fresh air from people who are not Zevran…

His journeys of questionings had to stop to act as the Warden-Commander though, Zevran left at Dallas’ behest to continue adventuring, he’d catch up as long as Zevran sends letters. In his adventures with his new companions, he learned more of the Dalish… Valanna eventually even agreed upon giving him vallaslin. She was crude but at least she answered his questions, but they both had many more when Justice was discovered and welcomed along.

Eventually everything was said and done and he went on to catch up with Zevran in the Free Marches. But only after visiting his first home he could ever really remember having, visiting Jowan as well… he felt relief after he and his now tranquil friend had spoken… he even decided to take Mouse with him… Mouse was Mouse when Dallas decided that’s who he was looking for and wanted to take along with him.

In the Free Marches, they were frowned upon as outsiders. Not many wanted to answer his questions on their journey to Antiva… Nevarra was too far off track for the amount of time Dallas felt he had left, sadly… but he could find some interesting books on their ways, even books of the Imperium, but only in Antiva were they not demonized. Most fascinating… Mouse and I were in awe of all of this knowledge of the Nevarrans who gently allow spirits to move on when they feel stuck. But the Imperium… too much slavery, too much sacrifice and bullying – too much akin to Andrastians. They were content at last, questions they can now try to figure out themselves await them.

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Good God, Y'All

Welcome to “But Does One Simply Drive an Impala into Mordor?: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e2: Good God, Y’All.

The boys are worried about Bobby, who has lost the use of his legs and won’t speak. Dean shows off an x-ray of their very pretty carved ribs just before Cas calls Sam to find out where they are because, oh right, the pretty ribs mean they’re hidden from *all* angels, even pocket angel. Cas reveals that he’s cut off from Heaven and thus can’t heal Bobby (who has something to say about that—yay! He’s talking!) because then they couldn’t save healing him for some more dramatic time later on. Cas wants Dean’s samulet because it supposedly glows hot in the presence of orcs God. Dean doesn’t want to give it up, but Cas Dom-Voices him into it. Rufus calls Bobby for help in a town overrun by demons. The boys go to check it out, running into Ellen and Jo, who are hunting together now. Seems like everyone in this town thinks everyone else is a demon. Turns out no one is. The first of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, War, has arrived, and he’s making different groups of townsfolk think the other groups are possessed. Sam and Dean each figure this out independently because they are both smarties. They cut War’s ring from his finger, vanquishing him and gaining a piece of jewelry that, huh, seems like maybe it might be important later. At the end of the episode, Dean confesses that he's not sure he can trust Sam anymore, and they decide to go their separate ways. Uh-huh.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Mace:

oh, you’re a sword, DeanDean, don’t fight it

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

oh good. Jo.

Mace:

UGH

Mace:

BACK RUB

Mace:

I bet Dean gives extremely good back rubs

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

they're xrays, Sam. says that right there

Mace:

god, even their flipping ribs are pretty now

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA OMG

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

OMG LOOKIT HIM STRIDING

Mace:

omg is this the scene where Misha falls to the floor to disappear?

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I think it is!

Lor:

"Say again."

Mace:

remind me what’s wrong with Bobby?

Mace:

“I heard that” HAHAHA

Lor:

he's paralyzed from the waist down but I kinda forget why already? (Ed: We remembered eventually.)

Mace:

cripes, Cas is extra gorgeous here

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

oh Cas, oh honey, you're so earnest, baby

Mace:

HE’S NOT ON ANY FLATBREAD

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

"no he's not on any flatbread"

Lor:

HAHAHA

Lor:

CHUCKLES

Mace:

“literally at the end of days” oh Dean, you’ve got, like 10 years left at least

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I love that Dean is SO anti-God all through but later when he actually meets him and confirms that he does not in fact care, it wrecks him so much

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

get a little closer there, Cas

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

he's SO STERN i cannot

Mace:

YES

Lor:

OMG that LOOK when he turns to Dean

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“NO”… “alright I guess”

Mace:

that didn’t take long

Lor:

"may I borrow it?" "NO" *VOICE* "Dean, give it to me" *dean does*

DOM VOICE

Mace:

that’s not exactly how you play hard to get Dean

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Mace:

“now I feel naked” “I’ll be in touch” NICE

Lor:

"now I feel naked" haaaahahahahahah

Lor:

"tell him to send legs" HAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

I refuse to believe that they did not know what they were doing with Dean and Cas right from the start

Mace:

meh, I think the writers are mostly idiots, to be honest, and stumbled onto the good stuff. the rest is all on Jensen, Jared, and Cas as amazing actors

Lor:

lolololol I love the establishing shot: snowy mountains, must be Colorado, right?

Lor:

I MEANT Jensen and Cas

Lor:

omg DUDE we BOTH called Misha Cas haaaaahahahahaha

Mace:

oh AHA! well yes then

Mace:

OMG HAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

omg the tone of the music with the destruction

Mace:

quality soundtrack choice

Lor:

omg I LOVE when music goes from undiegetic to diegetic

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“hello boys” NOT YOUR LINE, ELLEN

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

ALSO HOW ABOUT A HUG

Lor:

okay there it is. jeez

Mace:

HAHAHHA

Lor:

hahahaha the slap

Mace:

I don’t like her, but I do like that she calls Dean “kid"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

and the "yes, ma'am"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

agreed. I always love it when someone treats him like they love him, especially WHILE they are tearing him a new one, but Ellen as a character? meh

Mace:

exactly

Mace:

just because she’s a pregnant woman, Dean, doesn’t mean she can’t handle herself. Jesus.

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

although I do suspect that THAT pregnant woman might not be able to

Mace:

well sure but I’m trying to make a point here, Lor

Lor:

I DO apologize. *drags over a box for you*

Lor:

that canned soup probably has enough salt in it to be useful

Mace:

*checks to see if box has cookies in it before realizing it’s full of soap*

Mace:

HAAAAAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

*hands you another, smaller, box, this one WITH cookies*

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

*munches*

Mace:

Sammy, no. Don’t lick that.

Lor:

look, in GENERAL, Sammy, don't like knives

Lor:

*lick. dammit

Lor:

like them all you want

Mace:

SNORK

Mace:

WHY is it that every pregnant character on the screen is constantly holding her belly. NO ONE ACTUALLY DOES THAT

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

ooooof, Dean

Lor:

I feel like if I had ever been pregnant, I would have used the shelf as a good place to rest the snacks

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

been there

Lor:

I mean, the boobies work, surely the baby bump would too

Mace:

works pretty good until the kicking starts

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

now I'm picturing chips just like flying out of the bowl

Mace:

SNORK

Mace:

ope, fret boys

Mace:

not really any of your business, Ellen

Lor:

okay, so Sam is incredibly hot when he gets angry and shoves people and Dean is incredibly hot shoved up against a wall. it's fine. I'm fine

Mace:

HAHAHAHA RIGHT?!

Lor:

also SOME GIRL? Have you met them? They never like the same girls

Lor:

and girls are always about one of them or the other

Mace:

right?! she’s a dummy

Lor:

WATCH THE SHOW ELLEN

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

YAY RUFUS

Mace:

YES

Lor:

oh Dean

Mace:

right?

Lor:

"random's good"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"this isn't x-files, pal"

Mace:

Ellen really should be a great character. strong woman and all, but she just… sucks. and I can’t really figure out what it is about her that doesn’t work

Mace:

HA

Lor:

right? she should be great but she's just kind of annoying

Mace:

is it the actor? the writing? maybe a little of both

Lor:

lol the poor pastor

Lor:

yeah, probably a bit of both

Mace:

HAHAHA YEP

Mace:

War is excellent, on the other hand

Lor:

YES

Mace:

War’s a daddy and I’m okay with that

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

“that’s adorable” HA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Oh Sammy, don’t listen to him

Mace:

look at those puppy eyes

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Mace:

army dude is also a cutie

Lor:

he really is

Mace:

“genius” I love it

Lor:

YES

Mace:

Rufus is master-level snark

Lor:

"stop firing usually means stop firing" I LOVE HIM

Lor:

YES

Lor:

Frodo of the niiiiiine fingers

Mace:

War calling them kiddos to parallel Ellen

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

omg Dean’s LotR reference!

Mace:

You two

Lor:

"so pit stop at mount doom" DEEEAN

Lor:

YAAAAAAS

Mace:

Oh Sammy, I love you just the way you are

Lor:

well of course

Lor:

omg Dean's squinty face before he agrees

Mace:

UGH THESE TWO

Lor:

and his freeeeckles

Mace:

you KNOW you don’t want to be apart, boys. just STOP

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

maybe someone should knock their heads together

Lor:

OMG offering Sam Baby

Mace:

THEY TOTALLY SHOULD

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"you too, Sammy" OMG BOYS STOOOOOP

Mace:

FRUSTRATION NOISES

Lor:

LOL YES

[masoena]

"You really are Steve Rogers, aren't you?"

A Marvel Cinematic Universe and Supernatural Crossover

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Dean Winchester

Rating: Explicit

This is a prompt fill for @sweetspicybingo's 2024 Hurt/Comfort Bingo and is a fill for the following square: self doubt to sleeping with each other.

No motorcycles were hurt during the research and writing of this fic.

Tags: Motorcycle Sex, One-Night Stand, Top Steve, Bottom Dean, Implied Switching, Crossover Pairing, Hurt/Comfort

Dean snuck out of the motel room which he shared with Sam in the Midwestern town, self-doubt and guilt cursing through his veins, itching for some numbing with some help from Jack at the bar a short drive away. He wandered in and took in the clientele. It was the usual mix of locals and transients, a motley crew of truck drivers, construction workers, cougars and a few guys that looked like cowboys straight from one of the ranches on the outskirts of town.

He was checking everyone, both because hunter instinct never sleeps and because he was curious who the suped-up bike belonged to that was parked outside. Much like classic car guys they tended to park in a way that kept their precious away and out of the path of drunk drivers i.e. at the far side of the lot inconveniently far from the front door of the bar.

Guy seemed to be a fan of the Avengers too as it had the logo on the fuel tank in black powder coated finish. The model was a Harley-Davidson 750 Street model first released in 2015, a beautiful ride that looked like a modern two wheel twin to Baby. Sleek shiny top coat on the fuel tank, powder coated finished exhaust and muffler with a black leather seat, black and chrome spring forks and red suspension springs in the back for a splash of color.

The owner turned out to be easy to spot, his leather jacket hanging from the hook below the bar top, motorcycle helmet on the barstool to his left. The guy was built, broad shoulders and thick muscular arms picking an unfair fight with every seam on his black cotton tee except at his waist where it only accentuated the trim size of him. His butt looked juicy in the dark wash denim that fit him perfectly and black leather boots finished up the look. His profile looked classic American handsome, solid chin, straight nose with blue eyes and a messy from the helmet head of medium length hair.

Dean wasn’t looking for a hook up tonight, just some comfort from a bottle but he wouldn’t say no to this dark blonde glass of tall and handsome. Excited at the prospect of being pinned down by those corded arms with ease and for the guy to fuck him right into next week and out of his self-destructive state of mind. He played up a good game around Sam but the mark was getting to him, increasingly so.

He ordered two shots of whiskey neat and gulped them down without any preamble, eager to numb the emotions he felt.

“Rough night huh?” Blue eyes met green through sideways glances.

“Something like that.”

“Name’s Steve. What’s yours?”

“Dean. We are just traveling through me and my brother.”

“Roadtripping or work?”

“We go all over for work, so roadtripping is part and parcel of it.”

“Huh…”

“750 Street model outside, that yours? She’s a beaut.”

“Yeah she is, thank you.”

“Can appreciate a nice bike even if she’s a bit more modern than what I like in my vehicles.”

“Oh yeah, what do you drive, hot shot?”

“67 Chevy Impala SS four doors, could be a twin to your bike given how nice and shiny they both are.”

“Can we get another round, two each for my friend and me there.” The guy simply commandeered attention in the room, the bartender wasn’t anywhere near them but brought the drinks without question and without Steve having to raise his voice.

“Thanks.” Dean said as he clinked glasses with him.

The conversation lulled as they downed the first glass but sipped the second one.

“So what do you and your brother do?”

“Pest control.” The lie flew off his lips with ease.

“Must be going after some big stuff, given the heat you’re packing in your waistband.”

Click here for the full fic on AO3.