#clear bra installation

[rallyecoachworks]

What Is a Certified or Trained Auto Body Shop?

When a shop is certified, the vehicle’s manufacturer has approved the auto body shop to repair the cars they make. These shops are specially qualified to work on specific makes and models. Technicians at these shops have undergone rigorous training and testing to become certified. They also prioritize using factory-grade parts for repairs, which helps ensure that the repairs are done correctly. Certified technicians can also access the latest repair procedures and techniques, which are not always available to technicians at non-certified shops.

[kisskourt]

stem riri williams headcanons

pairing: riri williams x black!reader

contains: fluff, smut (18+)

taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @abenomeiiii @shurislover @phantomof-themcu @sapphicvqmpires @sapphicjunglefever @playhousedistee @thtgirlllmona @vixentheplanet @dejaonline @prettymrswright

author’s note: this version of riri lives rent free in my head. s/o to my baby @inmyheadimobsessed for helping me. i love you pookie wookie! anyways, if you would like to be in my taglist, just let me know. thanks for reading!

SFW

🔩 the epitome of a girly tomboy. her closet is a mixture of men's and women's clothing. her go to look is a fitted top, baggy pants, and a pair of sneakers. around the house, she likes to wear a sports bra and boxer briefs. for formal events, she opts for a tailored suit and heels.

🔩 cornrows, box braids, knotless braids; she's tried them all. of the styles, straight back cornrows are her favorite. if she's feeling nostalgic, she'll add beads at the end of her braids. regardless of the style, her edges must be done. when she’s in a rush, she’d rather throw a hat on than to be seen without her edges laid.

🔩 without jewelry she feels naked. gold is her preferred metal but she’ll wear silver if it matches her outfit. her chains are a staple with anything she wears.

🔩 obsessed with getting her nails done. there is an agreement between the two of you that you pick the color and she picks the design. however, sometimes she’s adventurous and surprises you with a random color.

🔩 the biggest baby ever. after a long day of classes, she craves you. engulfed in your arms is her safe space. if she could live in your skin, she would.

🔩 before attending MIT, she worked at a car repair shop in high school. her love for cars stems from her relationship with her step-father. as a child, she would help him repair his plymouth barracuda in the garage. getting her hands dirty reminds her of the time she spent with him. in her free time, you often catch her in her garage modifying the plymouth barracuda. she recently installed a set of brake calipers in the color red.

🔩 legos! legos! legos! your girlfriend is a fein for anything lego. legos allow her to keep her hands busy while keeping her mind stimulated.

🔩 gym rat DOWN! she lives in the gym; it’s a safe space for her. for riri, each set, each rep, are not just pursuits of strength, but a ritual of equilibrium. she chases that release of dopamine; it balances her.

🔩 she’s your personal stylist. riri spends hours on pinterest saving fits and curating looks for you. she enjoys seeing you in the clothes she buys you, and she’s even more obsessed with taking your pictures. you have an entire instagram page dedicated to the outfits she’s made for you, and you must tag her so that 1. your followers know that she put the fit together and 2. you’re absolutely 100% taken, so they better not try anything!

NSFW

🔩 horny 25/8. 3 in the morning? horny. 5 in the afternoon? horny. she’s down for whatever, whenever.

🔩 a strap slinger! she loves seeing the way you react every time her strap disappears in you. her favorite position is missionary because it allows her to look into your eyes as she’s drilling you.

with her hand wrapped around your throat, riri smiles. her pace is relentless; a clear indication that she is determined to overstimulate you. your legs are wrapped around her torso, holding on for dear life.

tears began forming in your eyes; the feeling of pain and pleasure mixing.

"give it to me, baby." she hums.

“let go.”

you know what she desires, and you know how much she loves discovering the intricacies of your body.

the grip on your neck tightened as she hit your g-spot. the aroma of sex and musk fill the room as you close your eyes. seconds later, your right nipple is met with a harsh slap, followed by a demanding suckle.

"did i say you could close your eyes?"

🔩 devouring you is her favorite pastime. you're upset? head. stressed out? head. it doesn't matter when or where; she's always ready to drop to her knees for a taste of you.

with a sigh, riri places her keys on the kitchen counter. picking up her phone, she sends you a series of texts:

🔩 undoubtedly a switch. as much as she loves bending you over, she yearns for your dominance. relinquishing control to you is easy for her.

🔩 has a tramp stamp that reads "lucky you" in red ink.

🔩 she loves the feeling of you tugging on her braids as she cleans you up. slurp after slurp, she doesn't dare complain about how tight your grip is. all she cares about is how lovely you taste.

🔩 tying you up so she can see you squirm is one of the ways she punishes you when you've been a brat.

🔩 when she's frustrated with you, she makes you watch as she rubs her clit.

you extend your arms, attempting to touch her. swatting your hand away, she smirks.

"do you deserve to touch me?” you shake your in defiance.

"then stop trying to touch me!"

[honeyhotteoks]

sunday mornings (j.yh + p.sh)

summary: one sunday morning yunho and seonghwa decide they want more than just coffee, they want you; a husbands story deleted scene

note: this is not an official installment in the husbands series, more like a deleted scene of just straight smut, no real plot. still... it's feral and i figured you might all enjoy it still. however, please read the warnings, this is one of the most intense dom/sub scenes i've ever written.

warnings: non idol!yunho, non idol!seonghwa, fem!reader, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamics with hard dom seonghwa, hard dom yunho, sub reader. specific content warnings for: slight somno vibes, dub-con vibes though truly there is nothing but boundless consent here, pet play and use of the pet name 'puppy', collars and leashes, ball gags, bdsm, restraints, overstimulation, use of latex gloves, spitting, mean language like slut and whore, taunting and humiliation play, with a lil praise we gotta get our 'good girl's in there, intense fingering, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, rough and i mean rough sex, slapping of all kinds, impact play of all kinds, use of dildos, squirting, multiple orgasms/pussy torture.... basically the husbands fuck the hell out of her and engage in lots of pain play.

pairings: seonghwa x yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut

word count: 8.2K

my masterlist || read it on AO3

You wake on Sunday morning to kisses along the back of your neck and familiar fingers slipping under the hem of your underwear. The warm weight of your husband’s body behind you in the yellow glow of the late morning sun. For a minute you let him explore you, let his hand part your thighs and the tip of his middle finger gently flick across your clit. He’s breathing softly, your hair shifting with his every exhale against your skin. His teeth pull gently at the necklace around your throat. 

You don’t remember how you made it to bed last night, the last clear thought you have is the movie playing in the background and your head on Seonghwa’s thigh. Someone must have carried you upstairs, and judging by your bare legs and lack of bra, someone must have undressed you before tucking you in. 

Yunho’s arm tightens around you, adjusting his positioning, reaching around as he searches you more, sliding one finger further through your folds and seeking some wetness to spread over your sex. 

“Sweetheart,” He murmurs low, soft like he’s trying to ease you awake. 

You keep your eyes shut, letting your body stay relaxed and pliant. You sigh softly as he pushes the tip of his finger inside you. 

“Come on, my love,” He returns his fingers to your aching bud and circles softly, “it’s time to get up,” 

You’re not sure if he knows you’re awake, normally if he does he teases more than this. He turns the moment into a punishment and holds you down on your front while he takes you rough and quick from behind, but this morning he’s moving slowly. This morning he has plans. 

You stretch a little, your thighs parting. 

“There’s my love,” He kisses down the exposed skin of your upper back, fingers rocking more firmly with every shift of your body into consciousness. 

“Hi, baby,” You sigh, letting your eyes open finally. 

“Morning,” He nips at your shoulder. 

“Where’s Hwa?” You ask through a yawn as you realize he’s not on your other side. 

“Coffee,” Yunho explains, staying focused on touching you. 

You exhale slowly, letting him move you onto your back so he can touch more of you, “Did you just wake up?” 

“Mhm,” He pushes his hand up your shirt and over your stomach, up further to cup your breast, “I had a dream about you,” 

“Yeah?” 

“And I woke up needing you,” He explains, lips traveling across your throat. 

He’s rock hard against your thigh, his hips pushing against you to feel some friction and you slide your hands under the covers to find his bare chest. His teeth catch against your necklace again, tugging softly as he sighs hot across your pulsepoint. 

“What about Hwa?” You tease him. 

“I need him too,” He dismisses, “but that’s not what I want right now,” 

“W-what do you want right now?” You ask, your voice caught when he pulls his hand out from under your shirt and cups your cheek, fingertips dragging down your neck. 

His hand closes over your throat in an instant as he leans back to watch your eyes, “Can we play, sweetheart?” 

A shock of warmth fires through your belly, heat pooling in your core and you wet your lips before nodding, “Please,” 

His fingers squeeze just a little and then his hand releases, and despite the way you can see in his face that he wants to move so much more quickly than this he remembers himself, voice softening, “Are you sure?” 

“Why?” You murmur, your fingertips coasting up his bare ribs. 

“The other night,” He says, nodding, “I know we were rough, you can say no if you’re not feeling up to it,” 

Three nights ago they had been rough. Your body twisted up and locked in place with silk ropes affixed to the hooks behind the headboard, their words had been harsh and demanding, and the way they both took you after what felt like hours of denial made your head spin and your legs numb by the time they released you into the soft sheets. 

You crane up just enough to press a kiss to his lips, “I’m sure, baby, I feel fine,” 

He studies your face for a moment, “You were sore Friday,” 

You smile, “It’s Sunday,” you nudge him, “but if you don’t want to fuck me,” 

He laughs and drags you up to his chest, kissing you soundly and shaking his head as he does, “No, no, I’m just checking,” 

“Thank you,” You squeeze his hand, “but I feel good, and we don’t have any plans today,” 

“True,” He murmurs

“You two do what you want to me,” You grin, pressing another kiss to his lips, “I’m all yours,” 

His hand tightens on your hip and he swallows hard, “You might regret that, I’m in a mood,” 

“I doubt that,” You roll your hips against him, catching his cock between your bodies. 

“Yeah?” He smirks, “You do like my moods, don’t you,” 

You can practically feel his words making you wetter. Downstairs the sound of the cabinets and dishes echo up and Yunho glances over his shoulder at the closed door. 

You kiss his chest, just below his throat and sink into his skin, “I love your moods, Daddy,” 

He groans at your words, his breath caught in his chest. You smile against his skin, knowing you’re giving him the perfect permission. You want him to put you on your knees so badly you could beg for it. 

Yunho presses one more sweet kiss to your lips once he recovers and then pushes you off him and back into the center of the bed, “Take your panties off,” 

“Yes, Daddy,” You respond, anticipation building as you slip them off and kick them beneath the sheets at your feet. 

Yunho crosses to the closet, pulling open the doors and locating the long shelf where all your toys and gadgets are laid out ready for use. He slides it open and selects his favorite collar and leash, and then steps back towards you. His face is starting to even out, gain that smooth, dominant passivity that you love and you’re sure that you’re in for some punishment today. 

In preparation, you gather your hair up high in a ponytail and secure it back and push yourself up on your knees. 

He stands before you, thumb rubbing against the leather of the collar, “Tell me, what are you, baby?” 

“A good puppy,” You respond with practiced ease. 

“Who’s good puppy?”

“Daddy’s,” You answer instantly, “and master’s,” 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” He murmurs, his tone slightly exaggerated like he’s speaking to a child. He unhooks the collar and places it around your neck, securing the black loop of leather around your throat. He slips a finger in between the fabric and your skin to ensure it’s not too tight or too loose, and then he clips on the leash to the front loop. 

He gives it an experimental tug, just enough to ensure it’s latched properly and then he smiles, “How’s that, puppy?” 

“Good,” You promise him, “perfect,” 

“Alright,” He murmurs, “let’s surprise Seonghwa,”

He steps away, stretching as he does and adjusting his black t-shirt, and you watch him carefully, waiting for instructions. It’s so easy to get into this headspace with them after so much time, years spent growing your levels of comfort with each other. In moments like this, every ounce of stress and worry falls away from your mind, and you know they’ll lead you safely into everything you need. Years ago you would be bubbling with nerves, but now you can just feel your skin tingling in anticipation, so you wait patiently. 

Yunho turns back to you and lifts the leash in his hand, beckoning you forwards, “Come,” 

“Yes, Daddy,” You answer with ease and a flicker of a smile passes over his lips before he clears his throat and lets the smooth mask of play fall into place. 

He leads you down in front of the bed with the leash, not pulling but guiding, until you’re squarely at the foot of the bed on your knees with your head bowed in supplication. Yunho settles himself behind you, seated on the bench in front of the bed, and he opens his legs to place one on either side of you. 

The leash pulls softly at your throat and you straighten up with its guidance. 

“Show him how pretty you look, pup,” He instructs until your back is perfectly straight and his hand slides over the front of your neck, dragging up to hold your jaw steady. 

You hear the creak of the stairs from the hall. 

“That’s right,” Yunho’s other hand wraps around the leash to keep it in his grip before he moves his hand hotly over your body through your thin sleep shirt, his fingertips tugging at your nipples. You whimper at the harsh tug, “Shh, shh, I won’t hurt you,” 

A pretty lie from his lips as he pinches your skin, but you lock lips shut and breathe slowly through your nose at the sensation, pleasure bubbling in your core again at his attention. 

Seonghwa’s footfalls are audible now as he crosses the landing to your bedroom, and then the door opens. He’s paying absolutely no attention, three cups of coffee balanced in his hands as he pushes the door open with his hip and keeps his eyes trained on the liquid in the cups to ensure nothing spills over onto the floor. 

“Good morning,” His voice is soft and pleasant, quiet so he doesn’t inadvertently wake you, “I hope you didn’t steal all the covers,” 

Yunho’s fingers tighten on your jaw and you hear him laugh softly, “Not exactly,” 

“So then you’re,” He finally looks up, the words dying in his throat and you watch him struggle not to dip the coffee out at the sight of you and Yunho. 

You’d laugh if you thought you’d get away with it without punishment. 

“Well,” Seonghwa grins, his eyebrows shooting up high, “good morning to me.” 

“That’s the idea,” Yunho smirks. 

Seonghwa laughs softly and spins slowly to place the coffee cups on the dresser, “Did she just get up?” 

A thrill runs through your belly at the way he doesn’t even look in your eyes, picking up immediately on the tone in the room and what Yunho wants to do with you. 

“Mhm,” Yunho lifts the hem of your shirt to expose your bare lower half, “she woke up so wet and wanting, darling,” 

“Is that right?” Seonghwa murmurs, running a hand through his long black hair. 

Yunho’s quiet for a moment, and then he taps your cheek with his index finger, “Seonghwa asked you a question, pup.” 

“Yes, sir,” You jump at the chance to speak now that you’ve been acknowledged. 

His eyes flick down to yours and you see a softness there for the briefest moment before he straightens up and crosses the room to stand in front of you, “I’d like to see for myself,” 

“Yes, sir,” 

He drops to a crouch, only inches away from you now, and his fingers tap your bare thigh, “Open up,” 

Despite the rough drag of the carpet under your knees, you part your legs open. 

“Yeobo,” Seonghwa says to your husband, “has our sweet puppy been touched yet today?” 

“A little,” Yunho confirms, “just a warm up,” 

Without meeting your gaze, Seonghwa’s hand pushes between your legs and his fingers find your wet slit, rocking back and forth to gauge your wetness. You physically fight the urge to roll your hips into his hand or make a sound. 

“Perfect,” He breathes. 

A small sigh makes it through your lips. 

Sometimes you don’t know which of them will take the lead, and given the way Yunho woke you and spoke to you, if you were betting in this moment you would have said him. Seonghwa’s still wearing his sleep pants with a kitschy cute print, he just entered the scene, he hasn’t had more than a minute to adapt and sink into the headspace, and yet when your eyes meet his again you know you’ve never been more wrong. 

His gaze is hard, passive and dismissive, and with ease he addresses Yunho without breaking eye contact with you, “I want her in the chair, and I want you both stripped. Now.” 

Yunho drops your chin and your leash immediately, his hands finding the edge of your shirt to pull it up and over your head before tossing it to the side. When he moves to strip off his own clothes, Seonghwa reaches forward to take your face in his hand. 

“Open,” He says. 

Your lips part obediently. 

“Wider,” He scolds, delivering a tight slap to your cheek.

  You whine, but your mouth drops open wider and you extend your tongue. 

Seonghwa angles your face upwards with his hand, spitting directly into your mouth and delivering another quick slap, “Swallow.” 

You don’t make the same mistake twice, and you clamp your lips shut and swallow, letting him watch the bob of your throat so he knows you’re being honest. 

“Chair,” Seonghwa repeats to Yunho, “Now.” 

The leash grows taut suddenly, and Yunho stands and shifts to your side, stripped bare now with his cock standing hard and aching pink before you. 

Your lips part softly at the sight and Seonghwa laughs. “Such a little slut,” He teases, “one look at his cock and you want a taste?” 

“Yes, sir,” 

“Too bad,” He shrugs. 

He stands a moment later, moving out of your eye line behind you, and though you hear the shift of the bed, the drag of drawers opening and the rustle of fabric, you don’t even think about turning to look. 

“Pup,” Yunho tugs the leash and you lurch forward to follow his hand, bracing yourself on the floor with one hand, “come.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” You manage, finding your balance on your hands and knees, scrambling a little to keep up with how tight the lead is and how quickly he’s pulling you forwards across the bedroom floor. 

He makes a displeased noise with his tongue against his teeth and then suddenly there’s no tightness in the leash at all and his hands are on you, lifting you up off the ground with ease before depositing you into the aforementioned chair. He pushes your legs open wide and you comply quickly to get into position but he shakes his head, “You need to do better than this, puppy.” 

You huff softly as he pulls your body into the position he wants. This chair normally sits in the corner of your bedroom looking nothing but decorative, but it’s a favorite for moments like this. As he locates the silk ropes in the nearby storage ottoman, you realize several things at once. The chair beneath you is covered in plush towels, Seonghwa has shucked off his pajama pants in favor of just boxers, and in his hands he holds a collection of toys. 

Your muscles clench.

  “Stay still, baby,” Yunho murmurs as he drops down in front of you, winding the silks tightly around your skin. 

You’re nervous, desperately so, like you always are before a scene like this. You fell into this morning so quickly it feels especially unpredictable, but that’s always part of the fun. Yunho ties your legs tightly together and affixes you well to each arm of the chair, leaving you spread open, unable to close your legs no matter how hard you try. 

He smooths a hand up your shin once he’s done, and checks his knots, “Color?” 

“Green,” You assure him. 

“Good,” Seonghwa’s voice enters the mix as he steps closer, “now tell us, puppy,” he says with a wry smile, “what do you want?” 

Yunho’s hand slowly shifts down your inner thigh. 

You swallow hard, your hips jerking involuntarily as Yunho’s finger’s coast over the top of your mound, “I want to be good for you, sir,” you confess, your voice breathy and tight. 

“I’m sure you do,” Seonghwa nods and then he reaches out and gives Yunho’s shoulder a squeeze, silently communicating that he should shift away from you. 

“Hwa,” Yunho starts to say, but Seonghwa jumps back in. 

“y/n,” He steps to your side, “open wide again,”

“Yes, sir,” You lean your head back, mouth falling open.

  “That’s a good girl,” He coos.

  “Thank you, sir,” You sigh before returning your mouth to its open position.

  “Yunho,” Seonghwa murmurs, passing him most of the items in his hands. When Seonghwa reaches out to you, you see the ball gag in his hands and he nods, “that’s right, that’s a very good girl.” 

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, calming your fluttering heart rate and opening yourself up to their desires. He tucks the ball between teeth and watches you carefully as you slide it into the right place and get comfortable with the obstruction. You make sure you can still breathe somewhat around the ball, but mostly make sure that you can freely take steady breaths in and out through the nose. 

When he’s sure you’re ready, and you give him one small nod, he wraps the leader around the back of your head and secures it tightly. 

“Hands?” He asks, and you know he’s giving you the option but you don’t care, you extend them out and press them together. 

“Such a good girl today,” Yunho hums, pressing a kiss to your shin as he leans against you, “maybe we should reward her,” 

“We’ll see,” Seonghwa says, wrapping your wrists tightly together with a familiar silky rope of black fabric. 

“You’re in a mood,” Yunho chuckles. 

“I’m not the one who put our girl on a platter,” He smiles, and he lets your hands drop, “and besides, she likes it.”

“Oh, I know,” 

“Now,” Seonghwa takes a step back, gathering the top section of his hair into a bun and securing it neatly with an elastic from his wrist, “one more thing,” 

You can feel yourself trembling, your hips already starting to ache from their prone position, and you think to yourself that if he brings out a blindfold too you’ll have to stop the scene. Your skin already feels flushed and tingly, your whole body tight on a razor wire and you don’t think you can handle a single thing more. 

But instead of blindfold, Seonghwa snaps up a little cube shaped object from your bedside table and presses it into your hands. You recognize it immediately and without hesitation you press the button on the one curved side, the object strobing a sharp white light in fast flashes. Once you register that it’s on and working you click the button again and extinguish the light. 

“Good,” Seonghwa murmurs, “tell me again darling, what do you do when you want to stop?” 

You press the button once more, the light flashing white. 

“And for an emergency?” He asks, holding your gaze. 

You find the small switch on the side and push it to the right and then click the button again. The light flashes red now, an insistent bright hue where there can be no mistaking of your intentions. 

“Very good,” He nods as you click the light back off and slide the indicator into the safe position. Seonghwa picks up one more item on the table to your side, “Yunho, behind her, please,” 

“Anything you like, yeobo,” Yunho gives you one last squeeze, and then he’s gone from your field of vision. 

Your fingers fiddle with the object in your hands. You’ve only used it once or twice to slow a scene in the whole time you’ve been together, but you’ve never flicked it red. Once when you were dizzy, mouth stuffed full and everything in your brain starting to swim deliriously towards unconsciousness, you had flicked the indicator into the red position, but they had noticed the change in your body in seconds and stopped before you even decided to press stop. 

Behind you, you feel the heat of Yunho’s chest as he settles close and waits for more, the leash sliding over your shoulder and disappearing behind you as he turns your collar around. 

“Hold her steady,” Seonghwa instructs, and then he drops to his knees before you. 

You’re trembling in anticipation, your clit pulsing with need between your legs, and you’re sure that if he doesn’t touch you soon, you might fall apart from anxious need alone. 

With no warning, he lays one hand over your mound and cups you, and you realize he needed the moment to put on a pair of black latex gloves. Your hips jump. 

“She likes it,” Yunho murmurs low, “look at her,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa nods, applying pressure with his fingers and rocking them in a circle once, “that’s because she’s ours. She always likes what we give her,” 

A sound bubbles up from your throat and Seonghwa chuckles, “Oh, you do don’t you?” 

He taps his hand once, a quick slap against your swollen nub, and your head falls back as you moan. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seonghwa slaps your cunt again, “eyes on me,” 

You breathe through the sensation pulsing through your core and lift your heavy head back up. Yunho drags the leash to help direct your head and then steps close to brace you against his body. 

Seonghwa smiles, his hand massaging you a few more times before he lifts it and glances up to Yunho, “Let’s see how quickly our silly puppy will make a mess,” 

His fingers are inside you before you have a chance to take a breath, and your teeth clamp down on the silicone ball as you moan sharply. 

Seonghwa crooks his gloved fingers just right, and then his hand starts to pulse. He starts off shallow at first, knuckles pressed up to your slick folds as he simply pushes his fingers deeper in short little bursts, the sensations in your belly doubling as he strokes his fingertips over your spongy g-spot again and again. 

Your body jerks in the chair, a groan caught somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“You like it that much, pup?” Yunho’s lips against your ear send a shock through you, “You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” 

“Our whore,” Seonghwa grins, and he delivers a slap to your inner thigh with his free hand as he picks up the pace of his opposite. 

You moan tightly, teeth digging into the ball now, and Seonghwa starts to fuck you in earnest on his fingers, fast and hard and as deep as he can reach at this angle. It doesn’t feel good, not really, it feels tight and humiliating and your chest is broken out in a pink panicked flush, but it only takes a few more moments of that initial discomfort until the bubble inside you starts to build. 

You choke a curse around the ball in your mouth, hands gripping together tightly. 

“Our whore who’s going to make a mess for her masters,” Seonghwa pants, adjusting his angle and driving into you more forcefully, “over and over again.” 

You moan tightly, pressure dropping low in your abdomen. 

“Isn’t that right?” Seonghwa groans, never changing the pace of his hand. 

You moan tightly, nodding as best you can to comply, but the tautness of the leash keeps you stiff. 

“Make a mess,” Seonghwa commands, “come on,” 

The pressure in your belly drops further, a tight, tense feeling that almost brings tears to your eyes. You whine desperately, clamping your eyes shut, sensations washing through you, and your body tries to jerk and respond but you’re incredibly stuck stock still. 

“Come when I say,” Seonghwa directs you and your eyes fly open to watch him. 

You moan, choked against the ball. 

“You come in three,” He begins to count, his fingers crooking inside you and his opposite hand pressing down over your abdomen, “two…” 

Yunho grips you harder and the sound that leaves you is one of muffled desperation. 

“One,” Seonghwa orders you, and your body crumbles, trained perfectly to their commands. 

All at once the pressure snaps open and you feel your cunt pulsing, all but forcing his fingers out of you as you squirt clear liquid in a rush. 

“Good girl,” Seonghwa encourages, his hand flattening over your clit to rub back and forth harshly, your release splattering across your thighs and his bare chest, “oh, what a good girl,” 

Your chest heaves as you breathe deeply through your nose, trying to settle your trembling body, but he doesn’t even give you a moment of reprieve. The sound of a vibrator makes your eyes flash, searching for the source of the noise and then he lifts the wand. 

“Relax,” Yunho soothes you, petting your hair and giving your shoulder a squeeze, “be good,” 

You nod, pressing into his hand and he hums pleasantly. 

“Listen to Daddy, baby,” Seonghwa smiles, a little taunting and you wonder how this is about to go, your conscious thoughts starting to slip back. 

The wand connects hard with your clit a second later and you all but shriek against the gag, shaking your head hard and your hips jutting. 

“Stop squirming,” Seonghwa orders, delivering a harsh slap to the back of your thigh. The position you’re in has you bent in half, almost in a perfect press and at the flash of pain through your backside from his hand you settle, letting your legs sink back. 

He circles the vibrator, rocking it over your clit again and again and your body flushes pink with pleasure and stinging pain. Your hips rock again, just the smallest amount to try and disconnect the powerful vibrations from your aching clit for just a second so you can get your head around the sensations and he hums, displeased. 

He lifts the wand and delivers another harsh slap, his slick glove against your bare skin, stinging and turning your flesh redder and more numb, “You’re being selfish, puppy,” 

You whimper, shaking your head a little. 

“You are.” He insists, “I thought you said you wanted to be good for us.” 

You nod, trembling. 

“Then you’ll sit still,” He lets his hand crack down against your skin again and you tighten your teeth around the ball, moaning against it. 

A hand winds into your hair suddenly and Yunho tugs your head backwards. You yelp in surprise, eyes watering. 

“If you want to touch Daddy’s cock,” He says, with no sympathy in his voice, “you’ll take every bit of what you get, do you understand me?” 

You make a muffled noise. 

“I said, do you understand me, puppy?” His free hand delivers a stinging slap to your cheek, “Answer,” 

You whine a yes and then a yes, Daddy for good measure. You try to nod but his fist in your hair holds you too still and you wait to see if he’s accepted your garbled words. 

“Very good,” He nods, his hand loosening slightly, “now hush,” 

The vibrator lands once again on your pulsing clit and you cry out against your restraints, but this time you don’t move your hips, you take it just like they told you to. Your bound hands have nowhere to go, the cube twisting in your fingers as your arms shake, and Yunho’s hand wraps around your wrists to tug them back up into your chest and keep them out of Seonghwa’s way. 

“Better,” Seonghwa says, pressing down harder with the bulbous head of the vibrator, “there you go,” 

Everything feels sharp, aching and barely pleasurable, but you trust them. 

“A wet little mess,” Seonghwa teases you, rolling the vibrator in a circular pattern, lifting it and spitting once again, this time directly over your sex, “look at that,” 

He shifts his hand now, dragging the vibrator up and over your bud and then off it completely before repeating the motion, a rhythmic teasing of your most sensitive parts that leaves you choking moans against your gag.

“Don’t come,” He presses the vibrator down hard and your eyes tighten shut, a keening sound against the gag now, “hold it.” 

You can’t, there’s no way, the flood of heat through your body and the rush of sudden pleasure between your thighs is so strong you feel like you might crack open in his hands. You whine, your wrists jerking against Yunho’s wide palm, but all you get in return is a tug against the collar that silently communicates everything you need to know - don’t move. 

“Hold it,” Seonghwa repeats, shifting closer on his knees, adjusting the angle of the vibrator, and laying one wet, gloved hand on your tender thigh. 

The sound that leaves you is animal, somewhere between a moan and a sob and if you had any conscious thought left in your body you’d be glad the walls are thick in this apartment so that no one can hear you but them. 

“Now, come now,” Seonghwa commands and your brain blanks, ears ringing hard as your body responds to him, your legs trembling uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure roll through you. 

Your breath is caught, your mind spinning, and you jump with a start when Seonghwa drops the vibrator and pushes something thick inside you. 

“Mm!” Your head snaps up, fighting against the position Yunho has you in, and you feel him give you a little slack so you don’t actually injure your throat straining against the collar. 

“Don’t whine,” Seonghwa scolds, “you can take more than this any day,” 

Your eyes fill with unshed tears, the sudden intrusion of the dildo startling you in a way you really hadn’t expected, and you don’t mean to try and pull away from the toy, but your hips do it anyway. He pulls it free and drops a slap over your core, and you write against them with a tight cry. Your fingers twist the safety indicator in your hands and your thumb finds the curved button, but you don’t press it quite yet, you wait and breathe deep and let your panic settle. 

“Tell her,” Seonghwa directs. 

The toy plunges back inside you, deep in one shockingly quick thrust and you suddenly can barely breathe. The dildo itself is a standard size, no bigger than either of your partners, but with the position you’re twisted into and the relentlessness of Seonghwa’s attention, you can barely take it. You can feel your walls pulsing around it, hot and fluttering. 

Yunho nips at your ear, dragging your head to one side so you can hear his low voice, “We want you to come again,” 

You huff against the gag. 

“All over,” He kisses your throat, dragging his teeth over your pulsepoint, “can you do that for us, baby?” 

You make a noise, just enough to confirm you’re still with them. 

Seonghwa pulls the toy back and thrusts forwards again, only this time he doesn’t pause and let you get accustomed to the feeling, this time he goes faster, harder. You squeal against the gag and pull tight again against the leash, and this time Seonghwa reaches up to take the lead from Yunho and drag it forward between your legs. 

“You like being our filthy little toy?” Seonghwa asks you, tone laced with mocking sympathy, “A doll for us to fuck when we feel like it?” 

Your eyes roll back, a tightening in your gut, the sounds of the room nothing but lewd and wet and careless. 

“Eyes up, pup,” Yunho’s deep voice in your ear makes you moan but he punctuates his words with a firm slap against your breast and you jolt up again. 

“So rude,” Seonghwa tuts, “can’t even answer a simple question,” 

You moan something garbled, but you don’t even know what you were trying to say. 

“Is your head so full of cock you can’t even think straight?” Seonghwa laughs, tugging the leash again until you’re straining forward and moaning at the aching position, “It is, isn’t it?” 

“Dirty girl,” Yunho bites down on your shoulder. 

“Fucking filthy,” Seonghwa curses, letting the leash go suddenly and you fall back hard with a whimper. He slaps your thigh again and you jerk. 

For a moment they let you lay back as reclined as you can be in the chair in this pretzel of a position, but the dildo doesn’t stop, the curve perfectly angled to press up into your g-spot over and over again. You’re going to come, the realization slamming into you like a train and with the gag in your mouth there’s no way to ask for permission. 

You squirm in the chair, blinking hard and whining against the ball, trying to get their attention so they realize. You don’t want to break a rule, you can’t take much more, but it’s going to happen anyways. 

“There we go, there we go,” Seonghwa thrusts the toy as quickly as he can, his fingers digging into your thigh where he holds you steady. He’s talking to himself now, watching his work. 

You moan against the gag, and if your mouth was free you’d be asking - Sir, please may I come?

And he’d say yes. 

And you’d fall into pieces in his palms. 

Instead all you can do is whine, and he drops a hard slap to your thigh, and it’s all over. You release hard, fluid erupting from your abused core yet again as he pulls back the dildo on one of the thrusts, forcing it free. Your bound hands break out of Yunho’s hold and you shove them downwards to try and cover yourself, to try and get him to stop torturing you with the silicone cock. The sounds you make are harsh and wheezing, tears streaming down your temples. 

Seonghwa slaps your hands back and drags the head of the dildo over your clit fast, dragging out the intensity of your orgasm and making a wet mess of you both as he does. In the moments after, as your shaking body comes down from the hardest orgasm yet, you realize the rest of the morning is not going to go like any of you planned. 

“Disappointing,” Seonghwa’s hand connects once again with your thigh and you can already see how red and aching the flesh there is, “you know the rules,” 

You whimper against the gag. 

“If you wanted to come on a cock that badly,” He spanks you again, “you should have waited for us,” 

You squeak, shaking your head, eager to explain yourself. 

“No, no,” Seonghwa hand comes down again, lighting up your skin with pins and needles, “you be quiet,” 

You swallow hard, jaw aching against the gag. 

Seonghwa reaches up, picking up the leash as it lays down your front, and he pulls it just enough that you have to arch your head up to follow it. He licks his lips and sighs, trading a quick look with Yunho, “I was going to let you out after that last one,” he says, “and take you both to bed.” 

“Is that so?” Yunho murmurs, kissing your shoulder. 

The tenderness does little to quell your nerves, you feel the way his hands grip you.

“Mhm,” Seonghwa nods, “I was going to fuck you soft, like you like sometimes in the mornings. Maybe make you come on my tongue,” 

Your breath leaves you in a shudder.

“I would have let you rut your sweet self on Daddy’s thigh until you fell asleep,” His eyes turn soft, apologetic even, “but I can’t do that now.” 

You sob softly against the gag. 

“Now you need a lesson,” He pushes away from you, standing and gesturing for Yunho to follow. 

You watch them as they work, adjusting your binds so that you tip further back into a proper press and they adjust the chair so that they can access you the way they need to. Your legs are open wider now, the ache in your hips deep, but you wait, you wanted this. 

Yunho pulls the binds on your gag unexpectedly, the ball falling loose from your mouth and you groan at the sore state of your jaw. 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” He says, pushing a hand back into your hair. 

“Y-yes, Daddy,” Your throat feels hoarse and tired, but you clear your throat lightly and let his hand against your scalp support the weight of your exhausted neck. 

Yunho adjusts his stance by your side and comes closer, his leaking cock an inch away from your cheek. As Seonghwa moves between your spread thighs, Yunho finds your hands and opens your fingers, checking to see that your safety light is still tucked between your hands. You give him the smallest nod, and he gives your fingers a squeeze. 

“This time,” Seonghwa interrupts your thoughts as he braces himself on the chair and finds the right positioning for him to be able to sink his hard length inside you, “you don’t come until I say.” 

“Yes, sir,” You confirm with a sigh.

“Good girl,” He says, and then he slides home. 

You moan, voice unobstructed this time, your head falling back into Yunho’s wide palm. 

“Come on, pretty,” Yunho shakes you a little as Seonghwa starts to work his hips, “you wanted to suck Daddy’s cock so bad and now you’re too tired?” 

You shake your head, blinking hard and turning your face towards his aching length, letting your mouth fall open and extending your tongue. 

“Good,” He soothes you, and then he dips forwards, sinking his hardness past your lips and down your throat. 

You grip your hands tightly together and steady your breathing through your nose. 

“Taking it all like a good fucking slut,” Seonghwa sighs, jutting his hips up and forcing the rest of himself deep in your cunt, “God, I can feel it, you’re gripping me like a vice, baby,” 

Your head goes fuzzy at the sudden praise. 

Yunho adjusts his position, leaning over you and bracing himself on the edge of the table behind the chair with the hand that isn’t cupping the back of your head. He thrusts once, experimental to test your limits and the position, and you moan against his cock as it connects with the soft back of your throat. 

“Fuck,” Seonghwa curses his fingers gripping your side, “you should feel her,” 

“Mm-mm,” Yunho shakes his head, “I like her choking on my cock,” 

“Of course you do,” Seonghwa laughs, thrusting hard and knocking his hips into yours. 

“Pretty little cockslut,” Seonghwa grunts as he pistons his hips faster, every thrust stretching you wide and sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, “isn’t that right?” 

You moan around Yunho’s thrusting cock, your eyes clamping shut as you try to focus on your breath and let them take what they want from you. 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa huffs, mocking, “that’s right, puppy,” 

Your eyes roll back, body locking up, another orgasm so close you can almost brush right against it. 

“I bet you want me to come inside you,” Seonghwa says hot against your skin, “I know how you beg for it,” 

Your body jerks, your hands scrambling against his chest but he ignores you. 

“You think you deserve that, baby?” Seonghwa presses messy, angry kisses over your chest, teeth catching on your skin. 

You whine, gripping your hands tighter, your head swimming. You’d nod if you could, say yes, say anything if you could. 

“I’m,” Yunho chokes, his hips rolling into you forcefully as he drags your head forwards with every thrust of his cock through your lips, “H-Hwa,”

“Make her swallow,” Seonghwa tells him, ordering him just as much as he’s ordering you. 

Yunho groans, locking your head against his pubic bone as he spills himself down the back of your throat in one final, shaking thrust. You choke against him, spluttering a little and trying to pull back but he holds you steady. Your fingers find the curved side of the safety light once more, but he pulls back before you have to use it. 

You swallow hastily, less in an effort to take his release and more in an effort to take a deep breath of air, but his fingers find your chin to tip your head back so you don’t waste a drop as you sputter and cough. 

“That’s my good girl,” He soothes you, “so sweet for letting me use her mouth,” 

You sigh, swallowing again and leaning your cheek against his palm. 

Yunho takes a deep breath and then reaches past you, reproducing the gag. 

“N-no, wait,” You take a deep breath and scramble to find Seonghwa’s eyes, but he’s intensely focused on the sight of his cock plunging in and out of your aching slit, muttering obscenities through his own sounds of pleasure. 

Yunho gives you a full second to click on the light and stop things, but when you don’t he moves forwards and stuffs the ball back into your mouth, securing the grip behind your head. 

“Shh, shh,” he strokes your hair, “you can do it,” 

You’re not sure that you can, but you nod. 

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants, collapsing over you further as Yunho shifts away from you, “you feel like heaven,” 

Your walls clench around him, the sudden rush of pleasure building again inside you. 

He tugs your hair, pumping his hips in deep snaps that run sharp pulses of pleasure up your spine, “Come on my cock,” he commands, “Now, baby, come on,” 

You sob against the gag, so close you want to reach out and take it, sweat breaking across your brow, blush across your body. 

“I know you’re close,” Seonghwa taunts, “I know you, baby, I own you,” 

Your head drops back, swimming with an explosion of another orgasm, your vision swimming, but suddenly he’s gone, no longer inside you and stimulating you and dragging you up and over the edge. You cry out, harsh and desperate and needy, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

Your eyes stay shut, you can’t muster the strength to lift your head. 

He says something more, but you can’t quite make it out, and you feel it when he comes hot and wet across your belly. 

The vibrator presses down on your clit once more, and he turns up the intensity, and once again you jolt, a broken, raspy cry from your throat. 

“Now,” Seonghwa commands once more, “now, hard, come on,” 

The pain of your overstimulated clit is almost too much to bear but he rocks the vibrator just right one more time and the orgasm he snatched away from you a moment ago rips you back under tenfold. Every part of you is aching, muscles screaming and joints stiff, but this final wave of ecstatic, orgasmic pleasure loosens the last conscious fibers of your mind, leaving you floating and boneless. You can’t quite feel anything anymore except a dull buzzing through every inch of your skin. The little light in your hands falls free, clattering to the floor. 

It takes a moment for your ears to stop ringing, but when they do the first thing you hear is the soft voices of your husbands. 

“Get her legs,” Seonghwa instructs, and then his fingers are in your hair uncoupling the gag from your mouth, “Jagiya, can you hear me?” 

“Yes, sir,” You breathe as the gag falls away, and soft fingers find your jaw to massage warm circles into your skin. 

“Open your eyes, jagiya,” Seonghwa murmurs, “come on,” 

You blink furiously, fighting with the rush of light and the misty tears that cloud your vision. 

“Come on,” Seonghwa murmurs, his fingers sweeping through your hair, “there we go, give me a deep breath,” 

You take a deep inhale in through the nose, and Yunho finally loosens the ropes around your legs enough so that they unfurl, an ache suddenly ringing up your thighs through your lower back. On your exhale the pain of it makes you cry out softly and you let your legs fall slack. 

“Darling,” Seonghwa cups your cheek, bringing your eyes to his, “this is very important, alright?” 

You nod. 

“Does anything hurt?” He asks calmly, thumb stroking along your cheek. 

“Hips,” You manage, but if you’re being honest your jaw is sore too. 

“Okay,” He nods, “anything else?” 

Your head floods with dizzy confusion, the influx of oxygen too much to handle and you let your eyes droop closed again, your head feeling heavy. 

Seonghwa’s hand cups your head to keep it from lolling backwards and you feel his fingers on the collar, “Yunho, do you,” 

“I’ve got it,” Yunho replies smoothly, and you feel his hands on your skin, strong arms lifting you up as the collar falls away. 

“Mm,” You sigh, blinking again to open your eyes and get your bearings, “where?” 

“Shh,” Yunho soothes you, “we’re just going to bed, sweetheart,” 

You suddenly feel like falling, your brain floating and disconnected, and the next time you open your eyes it’s to both of their faces above you. 

“y/n,” Seonghwa asks, gently tapping your cheek to get your eyes to focus on him, “tell me again, what hurts?” 

This time, your brain seems to start working. You exhale slowly, taking stock of your limbs and stretching against the sheets, “I’m okay,” 

“Are you sure?” He cups your cheek, “Think for a minute,” 

You shake your head, winding your fingers together with his, “I’m good, for a second I was stiff, but I’m good,” 

Yunho’s fingers slide over your bare hips and start to press gentle circles into your skin. He watches your face carefully for any signs of deeper discomfort and murmurs, “You’re supposed to use the light if you feel dizzy,” 

“I know,” You breathe, “it happened quick,” 

His lips close and he nods, focused again on your stiff limbs. 

“Next time you have to tell us,” Seonghwa presses, “alright?” 

“I promise,” You swear, “I just couldn’t think straight there for a minute,” 

Seonghwa sighs, relieved and exhausted, and he drops lower on the bed to kiss you, “You did so beautifully, baby,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You were perfect,” He assures you, voice relaxing now that he knows once again you’re fine and responsive. 

“Can you hold me?” You murmur against his cheek, “please?” 

“Of course, of course, I can,” He peppers kisses over your face, easing down into the covers gathering you close, “how’s this?” 

“Good,” You nod. 

His hand caresses your back, massaging your sore muscles. 

“Yunho, you too,” You sigh with your cheek against Seonghwa’s bare chest, and you reach up blindly for your other husband’s hand. 

“I’m right here,” He murmurs, slipping behind you and snuggling close, “how do you feel?” 

“Warm,” You murmur, “and so sleepy,” 

“You rest,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, “you did so well for us, my love,” 

“You liked it?” You blink, trying to find their hands to hold. 

Yunho’s hand closes over you and Seonghwa’s entwined fingers and brings them to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles to try to ease you, “I loved it, I love you,” 

“I love you too,” You sigh. 

Seonghwa caresses your cheek softly, “He’s right, you did so well, and I know you pushed yourself today,” 

“Yeah,” You feel a little rush of emotions, thankful that he noticed the way you quelled your own panic to trust that they would keep you safe. 

“We’ll always take care of you, my darling,” He kisses your hair, warm hands stroking your skin, “and it means so much to us that you trust us, just don’t push yourself too hard next time,” 

You can’t fight the yawn, but you nod, “I will, I’m sorry,” 

“Hwa,” Yunho murmurs softly. 

“Hmm?” 

There’s a quiet exchange above you, but you’re too tired to make it out. Seonghwa’s hand untangles from yours and his fingers rest along your jaw. Slowly he massages the muscles there, giving you relief you didn’t even know you needed after the aching extension of your mouth for so long around the gag. 

“We’ll talk about everything later,” Yunho murmurs, “she’s exhausted,” 

“You’re right,” Seonghwa murmurs, and then he shifts to soothe you, “y/n, you sleep now, and Yunho and I will be here when you wake up, alright?” 

“Mhm,” Your body starts to go boneless. 

“I love you so much,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you,” You breathe, your stiff joints relaxing under their hands. 

“I know, darling,” Seonghwa murmurs, his voice starting to sound far away, “we know,” 

It’s hours before you wake again, but when you do they’re with you, just as he said. Between them you stay held, cherished, never a broken promise between you. 

[zepskies]

In Bad Weather

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along?

[Set in S15 - "Fix It" for season finale]

AN: I had to finish the finale (maybe?) of this story verse before the end of Hispanic Heritage Month. 😘 This is the third installment of "Midnight Espresso!"

Song Inspo: “We Made It” by H.E.R. (<- On repeat. Seriously if you haven't heard this one, you'll thank me later.)

Word Count: 7,600

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut, angst, hurt/comfort, body insecurity, body appreciation, heartache, followed by the fluffiest fluff…

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Al Mal Tiempo

Dean can’t remember the last time he woke up quite like this.

“Shit,” he grunts, clenching fists into the sheets.

He hears a muffled giggle underneath them.

He’s lying on his back, one knee starting to bend as he jolts on reflex. But familiar hands are holding down his thighs, as even more familiar lips caress him through his sweatpants.

Dean raises up the blankets and sheets to see your slightly frizzy-haired head pop up. Your playfully mischievous eyes meet his.

“Hey,” you greet him.

He raises a brow at you, smiling incredulously. “Hey.”

You then give him an annoyed look. “Do you mind? I was working on something.”

You try and cover yourself back up with the blankets, but Dean tosses them down your body. He wants to see you in that tank top and those little shorts. He's already getting a nice view of cleavage, no bra, and you’re straddling his thighs. His knees slide up to press against your ample behind.

“I do mind, actually.” His voice is still coarse with sleep. He clears it a little, and he smirks. “I was getting some good Zs in. You know, before I was interrupted.”

Your hands glide smoothly up his thighs, your nails catching on the fabric. You tilt your head at him.

“You really want me to stop?” you ask. Dean can’t readily respond, because he felt the shape of your words against his dick.

He moans, his eyes closing, fingers gripping the mattress under him when your mouth and tongue continue to outline the shape of his cock through his pants.

“I think I could finish you just like this,” you tell him, and still, your lips never leave him. “Or…maybe I’m feeling generous.”

Your nails hook on the waistband of his old sweatpants. The elastic has practically no give as you pull down the hem and expose his risen length. Shooting him one more smile, you let your hands glide down between his hips before you finally take his waiting cock into your mouth.

You love the sound of Dean’s voice, especially when you have him like this. His hand buries in your hair, tangling in the curls.

“Fuck, baby…” he mutters.

That’s kinda the idea, you want to say, but your mouth is preoccupied. Your lips and tongue move over him slowly. And soon your hands join to wrap around the base of his cock, stroking whatever you can’t take fully in your mouth.

You know he’s enjoying himself when his hand tightens in your hair. His breathing becomes labored, but still too steady for your liking.

You decide to pick up the pace. In your mind you think of a song to keep a good rhythm.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez…

Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

“Wait, wait,” Dean says, guttural in his throat. He stops you for a moment with his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him in confusion, but you oblige him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern.

“Nothin’.” He shoots you a weary, lopsided smile. “Just thinking I want to have enough mojo to give you a good morning too.”

You snort. Mojo. This man.

But you shake your head. “You’re the winner today, baby. I just wanna make you feel good.”

It’s been a long year. You all had dealt with Michael taking Dean from you, at least for a while. Now Michael is gone, thanks to Jack, and they’d managed to reunite Jack back with his soul…but there’s still Chuck to deal with. It hangs over you all like a malevolent cloud.

So you want to help Dean take his mind off all that, just for a little while. And maybe part of you thinks that if you love him that much more, he won’t despair as much over how Chuck has been manipulating the brothers Winchester…basically their entire lives.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, however, when Dean grasps your arms and tugs you up until you’re level with his chest. His hand finds your cheek, brushing his thumb there, then slides into your hair.

He smirks. “We can both be winners.”

A smile spreads across your lips, just before he pulls you into a kiss. Passion grows one into many, with hands disappearing under each other’s clothes to remove them.

Strong hands part your thick thighs further, and long fingers find their way down between them. First teasingly along the seam of your pussy, then slipping inside to get you ready for him.

Your face buries in his neck as you moan encouragements into his ear, not all of them in English. By now, he’s learned a lot of what you whisper in Spanish. It still makes electricity spark down his spine, no matter what language you’re speaking in.

He knows when it’s time when the warm inner walls of your core are slick and gripping his fingers tight. But when he removes them, you shudder.

Both of you are breathing hard by the time he actually lines himself up inside of you. You use his shoulders for leverage, and the pads of his fingers circle insistently around your clit as you slowly sink down on his cock.

A keening cry escapes from your throat, while his free hand grips hard on your ass.

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts. Your walls are already fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice.

You pant for breath. Your loose hair falls around both of you, shielding you from all other thoughts and sensations other than this.

“You feel so good,” you breathe, shifting your hips experimentally. “Always so good.”

Dean nods, and you know what it means: For me too.

He sits up and crushes you against him, bare breasts against his chest. (He loves the feeling.) He wraps an arm around your back and twists, until you’re underneath him and laying against his pillows. He encourages your thighs to stay wrapped around his waist as he begins to pound into you.

You breathe a short laugh. “Can’t let me stay on top?”

Dean grins. He grabs your hand and manages to press a kiss to your palm in between strokes. He knew what you were trying to do earlier, by taking care of him, but he can’t help it. He’s a giver.

And he knows exactly how to give it to you, shifting the angle of his hips to have you arching underneath him, gasping, clinging to his arms.

Thanks to your earlier treatment, that about does it for him. He can’t stop himself from a shuddering release inside you (praise fucking be for birth control, he thinks), but he still makes sure you come with him. He strokes your clit at the same time as his last deep strokes, and soon your voice washes over him as you call his name.

Afterwards, Dean rests his forehead against your shoulder, laying a kiss above your breast. He just woke up a few minutes ago, and he’s already tired.

“Okay. I need a damn nap,” he pants.

A giggle pours out of you. You rub his back soothingly.

“That’s what you get for doing all the work,” you tease. “I tried to help you.” 

“Help with what?”

Both you and Dean freeze at the sound of Jack’s voice. He’s just opened the door to your bedroom like you two hadn’t expressly reminded him about privacy.

You yelp in shock, and Dean’s face screws up in a glare as he reaches back fast for the closest blanket to yank over you both.

“What the hell!”

“Oh…sorry,” Jack says, shielding his own eyes. “Sam just wanted me to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

“You didn’t need to tell them right this second!” Sam calls from down the hall.  

“Knock, man! We knock on closed doors in this house!” Dean says. House. Bunker. Whatever.

He adds, “Or better yet, when my door’s closed, you give it a five-foot perimeter. Understand?”

Jack nods quickly and flees the room. “Sorry!”

The door slams shut behind him. Dean shakes his head. You can almost see the fumes coming out of his ears. You’re embarrassed and blushing, but you’re also biting your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Dean looks down at you.

“It’s not funny. He needs to fuckin’ learn,” he says. His brows are still furrowed, but his mouth twitches upwards. “Should’ve locked that damn door.”

You reach up and twine your arms around his neck. Your lips get tantalizingly close to his.

“You’re still balls-deep inside me,” you remind him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s kinda funny.”

Dean’s lips purse. He doesn’t want to smile, but you’re making it difficult. Your hands slide down his chest, toying with his nipples as they go. You press a kiss to his throat. Meanwhile, your thighs squeeze his hips, reminding him of where he's still deeply buried. You smile when he utters a faltering sound.

"You tryin' to start something else I'll have to finish?" he teases. You give him a playfully narrowed look.

"Sure you got the mojo?" you toss back.

Raising a brow, Dean shifts out of you a few inches, just to push his half-hard cock back inside. You moan a bit, brows furrowed when the move stirs a tremor of arousal in your core. He hardens up fully at the sound, at the feeling of you clenching around him.

He smiles. “Well, well. I’m thinkin’ Round 2 after all.”

You smirk up at him and give his ass a nice little smack. “Then it's my turn for a ride.”

With a huff, he lets the twist of your hips and soft hands push him onto his back.

In the aftermath of Round 2, both of you are spent before you’ve even gotten out of bed. It’s a rare lazy morning where you don’t want to be bothered with another hunt, or even getting dressed just yet.

You have the cover of the warm sheets and blankets. Your back rests against Dean’s side, up against the headboard. His arm is wrapped around you, his hand intertwined with yours as you play with his fingers.

He’s catching up on Dr. Sexy MD, but you’re admittedly lost in thought. You bring his hand to your lips, and you just hold it there.

Dean glances at you and finally notices your contemplation. He strokes a thumb over your ring and pointer fingers.

“You okay?” he asks.

When you register his voice, you merely nod. But Dean isn’t convinced.

“Baby,” he presses.

It finally earns your attention. You look over at him, and you realize that he knows you too well to be fooled. You sigh, in a way that has Dean pausing his show and giving you his full attention.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

With your free hand, you rub at your eyes and cheek. “Sam and Eileen. My heart just fucking breaks for them.”

You’re thinking about what happened a couple of weeks ago. After learning that Chuck manipulated Sam, who found the spell to bring Eileen back to life, she just…left.

Part of you wants to be angry with her; you love Sam like he’s your own brother. But you understand her as well. Being tied to Sam and Dean Winchester is like being tied to twin hurricanes. You’ve just been in this for far too long to let go of them now.

Dean nods at your admission, but he doesn’t have an answer for you. He hurts for his brother too. Part of him even feels a little guilty, having what he has with you, when Sam’s bit of happiness just keeps slipping out of his fingers.

“Maybe they just need some time to sort themselves out. Cooler heads and all that,” he says.

Time. You hope that’s all they need. However, it also makes you wonder about other things.

“That’s not it, is it?” Dean asks. He’s watching you shrewdly, and your lips thin into a line.

“Dean, what if…”

“Yeah?”

You hate yourself for even thinking it, let alone saying it. But you and Dean had survived this long on honesty, above all else. You can’t hide this from him anymore.

“What if Chuck manipulated us too?” you ask, in a small voice.

Dean’s face slackens. His hand releases yours, and he turns to face you more fully.

Emotion begins to clog in your throat and burn in your eyes.

“What if you and I would’ve never met if…” Your voice trembles, unshed tears clouding your vision. “And even if we did, would you still have kissed me that night? When we got back from that hunt—”

“Hey,” Dean protests, but now that you’ve begun, you can’t stop yourself from spilling your latest insecurities—the ones you’ve been holding onto ever since Chuck revealed himself as the villain of the whole world.

“I mean, what am I?” you ask. “Just the diversity casting in Chuck’s story?” 

“Don’t you say that shit to me,” Dean angrily snaps.

You gape incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.”

You feel how tense his body is, but your temper snaps just as well.

“Oye, mira ver,” you warn him.

You’ve levied that at him enough times that he knows all too well what it means. 

“Watch it, my ass,” he retorts. “You should know better than that.”

You frown at him, but he reads the thread of insecurity in the downturn of your lips, in your eyes that are starting to shine with tears. That always breaks him down.

Dean sighs and reaches for you then, cupping your cheek and brushing a thumb tenderly at the corner of your eye. He’s even angrier at Chuck for making you doubt yourself…and doubt him. 

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says.

You hesitate, but you go willingly back into his arms. You turn over and let him gather you against his chest. You rest against him. Your head tucks under his chin, and your leg slips between both of his.

“I love you,” he says, and his voice rumbles above your head. “That’s it. That’s all that matters.”

You bite your lip. “But—”

“No buts,” he says. Though his lips slowly tug at a smile. “Well, not that kind anyway.”

He gives your bare ass a playful squeeze under the sheets. You huff in amusement and swat him back.   

“Ya, coño. Enough,” you say with a laugh. “I probably have bruises back there.”

He just grins. “So you get what I’m saying?”

You let out a sigh. You push back enough to see his face, and you give him a soft smile.

“Yeah.”

Dean nods, but he still sees the worry in your eyes. He tries to stamp down the rest of your insecurities with a kiss, slow and deep.

You break away from him after a while to ask, “Ready for coffee?”

Dean sighs through his nose, but he hums in agreement.

“Will you make it how I like?” he asks.

A smile breaks across your face. 

“Café con leche?” you offer. 

He nods. “Yeah, please.” 

“So polite,” you remark with a raised brow. “What a change of pace.”

His mouth edges into a smirk. When you turn to get out of bed, he makes sure to give your ass one last smack. You jump a little with a yelp, but he catches your smile in the mirror above the dresser.  

Dean watches you shake out your curls and get ready for the day. You spend a lot of time blow-drying and straightening your hair, but he likes it like this too. Natural and wild. 

He likes that you wear the “dream catcher” (formerly known as your hole-ridden Journey shirt) a lot less. He likes that you’ve stopped feeling the need to wear anything to bed at all, if you don't feel like it; that you’re more comfortable with yourself. Comfortable with him.

But your smile drops. Dean sees the gears of your mind continuing to churn as you get dressed.

He has a feeling, despite his best efforts, that you’re still not convinced about the Chuck thing. And while Dean won’t admit it, that cuts him deep.   

Six years ago…

Las Cruces, New Mexico

The first time Dean met you was, of course, in a bar.

It didn’t take all that long for him to notice you, if he remembers right. 

You’d agreed to play pool with some guy who also speaks Spanish with you, and you seem genuinely into the game. So much so, that you don’t seem to notice how the guy is eyeing you. 

Dean doesn’t like the way the man’s gaze drags over your every abundant curve. Yeah, he’s been doing the same thing, but he likes to think he’s a little more classy about it.

He’s sitting at the bar with a half-drunk beer in his hand, watching the game out of the corner of his eye. He’s so invested that his beer is already flat and unpleasant, but when has that stopped him before?

…But then, Dean notices what you’re doing. You’re playing possum, making bad shots on purpose. His mouth curves behind his beer.

Little minx. 

Until you sweep the guy for all his money, that is. 

Dean watches the show in amusement. Secretly, he notes appreciation for the tight jeans, V-necked top and ankle boots. The red lipstick is the same shade as your manicured nails, and it all works well for you. The fullness of that pretty mouth would certainly work well for him.

He catches the way you sweep your hair out of the way, and the deceptive concentration in your eyes when you line up a shot on the second round. Your first turn.  

You then sink each of your cue balls expertly, without missing one. 

The swindled man gets mad, shouting at you in Spanish. You reply to him calmly as you lean on your cue stick. He gets even louder and reaches for the money, but before Dean would’ve intervened, you stab at the man’s foot with the cue. 

Your quick and clever hand gathers the money that you won, but because you seem to be kind at your core, you leave him thirty bucks for “gasolina” while he holds his foot. 

You surprise Dean further by joining him at the bar.

“Good game,” he says, giving you props with a smile.

You give him a smile back. “Thank you. Want to join me for another one?”

Your English is smooth, and so is your voice. Dean raises a brow at you.

“Even though I saw your little takedown there?” he asks. “Think I just saw all your moves.”

You laugh a little. “Not all of them.”

Was that a bit of flirtation in your eyes? Dean’s smile deepens into a smirk.

“But don’t worry,” you say. “I know how to play fair.”

He hits you with a bit of charm, lowering his voice with (he thinks) just the right amount of flirtation back.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

Your smile deepens too, despite your blush.

Cute, he thinks, before he follows you back to the scene of the crime. AKA: the nearest pool table.

Dean wracks up the billiards and sets up a new game. You hand him his cue, and he gestures at you.

“Winner goes first,” he says graciously.

“Hmm, thought you were gonna say ladies first,” you reply.

“That too,” Dean says. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”

You snort in response. “I’m sure you are…”

“Dean,” he supplies. He earns your name by the time he sinks four balls in a row.

You sigh as you level him with a look. You seem to realize that the two of you are more than evenly matched.

“Don’t worry,” he says, shooting you a grin. “I won’t take all your money.”

And yet, when it gets down to it, he misses his last shot by a hair.

You watch him suspiciously when you two make it back to the bar.

“You wouldn’t have thrown that last shot on purpose, would you?” you ask.

Dean ducks his head and smiles, somewhat liking the fact that you caught him red-handed. You’re smart. 

“Now, what kind of gentleman would I be to take your ‘hard-earned’ cash?” he asks. It earns a burst of laughter from you, with the shine of your teeth.

“You could buy me a beer though,” he shrugs.

“Wow. Okay, Señor Smooth,” you tease. Though you get the bartender’s attention and get him a fifth of whiskey instead, of the good stuff too.

Dean considers asking you out right there. Sam is waiting back at the motel, but Dean is willing to book another room just to get you to himself for the night. And if possible, for however long he’s in town. 

“You know,” you say after a while, halfway through your Long Island iced tea. “The thing you’re hunting? It’s not a garden variety spirit…it’s El Duende. Creepy hobgoblin, basically. I’ve been tracking it from three cities over.”

Dean is figuratively (and almost literally) set back on his heels. He tilts his head at you, furrowing his brows.

“You’re a hunter?” he asks.

You laugh at the look on his face. “I saw you and another mountain man at the police station earlier…though nice look on the FBI get up. Think your ID guy could hook me up with a new CIA badge?”

Dean smiles. This is gonna be fun. 

Now: 

People were starting to disappear.

Billie, the new Death, was doing this. Dean was convinced. And Sam thought everyone from the Apocalypse world (and others who shouldn’t exist in this world) would be on her list. Ultimately, you all couldn’t save anyone. Not even Eileen. 

You and Dean both comforted Sam on that terrible night. Though he was still distraught as he decided to organize the other refugees with Jack and Donna. 

You stuck with Dean in his plan to raid Death’s library for Chuck’s book; the only thing in the world that told the story of how he would meet his end. 

You chose to back up Dean in his plan, but really, neither you or Castiel thought it was a good idea to poke the bear known as Billie. Not for a book that none of you could read, except for Death herself.

But now here you are, in Death’s library, watching with worry as Dean holds Death’s own scythe against her.

“I didn’t hurt your friends,” Billie grits out.

“What?” Dean asks.

She laughs humorlessly. “You’re in the wrong place, Dean.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“People are gettin’ gone. I’m guessing it’s Chuck,” she says. “And that means, you’re just wasting time.”

Her hands are braced against the weapon poised at her throat. She already has a stab wound in her shoulder. She tells him that the earlier wound he gave her has festered. It’ll never heal. Eventually, it’ll kill her.

But she intends to take you, Dean, and Castiel with her.

Billie becomes the hunter, following the three of you back through the portal into the bunker. Dean’s hand is so tight around your arm, making sure you’re keeping up with him and never falter. Castiel does his best get you and Dean to safety. And after he wards it against her with his own blood, only the old dungeon is safe for you all.

For now.

Billie pounds on the door, over and over. She’ll break through the warding eventually.

You grab onto Dean’s sleeve, just to hold onto him. He brings you close to him in a protective embrace. You see the panic in his eyes as his mind scrambles to find a way out of here, knowing deep down that there’s nothing any of you can do. Castiel is nearly powerless. You’re all trapped. 

“That wound is killing her,” Cas says. “We might be able to wait her out.”

His gaze is on the floor, though he briefly looks up at Dean. He shakes his head.

“And if we can’t?”

“Then we fight.”

Dean shakes his head. He pulls away from you to lean against the wall.

“We’ll lose,” he says. Your heart breaks at the way he looks, shame-ridden and defeated. “I just led us into another trap…all because I couldn’t end Chuck. Because I was angry, and because I needed something to kill, and because that’s all I know how to do.”

His eyes are red and burning. Yours swim with tears of dismay. You want to correct him as he continues to vent, speaking with a certainty that it was Chuck all along.

Dean looks at you then, and at Cas. He’s close to tears when he says they should’ve stayed with Sam and Jack. That everyone was about to die. And he can’t stop it. And he can’t stop Billie when she breaks through that door.

You don’t know what to tell him to ease his guilt. All you know is that despite everything, you made your choice to support him in this. To stay with him. 

You made your choice a long time ago, you realize.

“Wait,” Cas says. His blue eyes burn with realization. “There’s one thing she’s afraid of. One thing…strong enough to stop her.”

Dean’s eyes widen. Cas uses what strength he has left to push you and Dean away, and he summons the Empty.

Dean pulls you further along with him as the formless void coils up like ink through the walls and cement floors. It drags Billie into its darkness, but it claims Castiel with it, as it once promised it would.

After the angel gives up his life, you and Dean are holding each other against the wall, on the ground, shaking and each rocked to the core.

You’re able to break out of your shock sooner than Dean, who just saw his best friend die.  

You kneel beside him while he sits, and you hold him to you while you cry. He can’t speak, but you know his guilt is eating at him.

His phone rings, startling you both, and it’s Sam. Dean can’t answer it. He covers his face, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, as if that could stop the ache in his chest. You press a kiss to his hair, his temple.

“He saved us, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you tell him. He shakes his head. You know he doesn’t believe you, but when he grasps your arm, his hold is desperate. 

“It’s me,” he says. His voice is shaking and ragged. “Everything I do turns to shit. Everyone around me pays the price. That’s just how it is…if you were smart, you’d hightail it as far as fucking possible from me.”

Your breath gets trapped in your lungs. Your heart feels like it’s shattering.

“Dean…baby, look at me,” you say with a sniffle. You gently hold his face, and he lets you raise him up. Your eyes are bright with new conviction.

“No one," you tell him, "not even Chuck can force me to love you the way I do. And not a damn thing can stop me from staying with you.”

Dean has tears burgeoning in his eyes. You caress his cheek, rough with stubble he’s let go too long.

“There’s a saying. Al mal tiempo, buena cara,” you tell him. His face shows a glimmer of confusion. “At bad weather, put on a happy face. It means even in difficult times, there’s still a reason to keep going. Right now, you are my reason.”

Dean considers that. He squeezes your arms unconsciously, as if grounding himself in you.

At the very least, he’s grateful that he’s not alone. And after a moment, he nods. You press a kiss to his cheek, and then his forehead. His eyes close at your comfort, your affection. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he accepts it anyway.

“Come on, let’s get you off the floor,” you say. You start to help him up…but your body stills. You feel a strange prickling across your skin. 

Dean notices the shift, with growing unease in his gut. He grips you tighter and calls your name in concern.

Your gasp is the last bit of your voice that Dean hears before he watches you turn to dust in his arms.  

Buena Cara

Four years ago…

It’s the morning after you and Dean shared a midnight espresso. The morning after your first kiss, your first confession, and your first time.

He wakes tangled up in you, and the sheets, which are somehow tied up in knots around his legs and yours.

“What’d you do here, woman?” he asks.

His voice is still gruff with sleep, and he lays on his stomach. You giggle almost silently next to him. You’re lying on your back with the sheets somehow covering up to your chest. One of your legs is tangled with his.

“Nothing,” you claim. He snorts and moves closer. His lips find your shoulder, lazily burning a path downwards. But when he grips the sheet and tries to expose more of you, you grasp his wrist on reflex.

Brows furrowing, Dean glances up at your face. You’re biting your lip, and he sees signs of insecurity in your eyes.

“You haven’t seen me in the daytime yet,” you joke. Yet another one that isn’t really a joke, Dean realizes.

He really wishes he could find your goddamn ex and bash his skull in. Because Dean would like nothing more than to just spend the rest of the day in this bed, mapping out the smooth expanse of your tan skin.

So he slips his arm underneath you. You utter a little squeal in protest, but he manhandles you until you’re resting on his chest, bare skin against bare skin. You look down at him with fondness, touching his cheek. Dean stares up at you with a reserved frown.

“What’s it gonna take, huh?” he asks. It’s like you don’t believe he wants you, even now.

You bite your lip as your fears creep in behind your eyes, like black ink coiling in your mind. That he just likes your personality. That maybe he just wanted to try something “different” with you, a thicc-thighed, fat-assed Latina, instead of the petite, slender girls you’ve seen him go after in bars.

“You could have anyone, Dean,” you point out.

Dean’s frown deepens, his brows furrowing. His hands lower on your back, squeezing the curve of your waist and soft hips.

“Anyone’s not naked in my bed,” he says. His voice is stern and matter-of-fact.

You attempt a smile, but he’s not convinced. He blows out a breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Your ex sure did a number on you, didn’t he?” he remarks. 

Your eyes widen. The more you think about it, maybe he did.

But maybe it wasn’t just him…

You tear up and blink against them, trying not to let them fall. You had thought you were happy with your curves. You really did.

You didn’t realize you had internalized so many of these negative thoughts about yourself, but here Dean was, forcing you to confront them. You’re grateful, but you also don’t know what to say.

Dean’s brows draw together. He holds your cheek. 

“Okay. It’s all right. We’ll work on it.” He kisses your forehead. He also wipes a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, baby.”

A laugh gets choked in your throat. “You should know this about me by now. I’m a crier.”

“Yeah, you’re also rockin’ a bit of sex hair,” he says, tangling his fingers further in the wily strands. “My kinda woman.”

You sigh through your nose. This man.

You can’t help but smile softly. The tip of your finger traces his jawline, down to his chin.

“Want me to make some coffee?” you offer. “I can have you try a cortadito with breakfast.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Two shots of espresso, warm frothy milk on top,” you reply. 

“God, two shots? It’s a wonder you ever sleep,” he quips. “But I do like the sound of frothy. I’ll whip us up some eggs.”

“And bacon?” you ask.

“Of freakin’ course, bacon.”

With that agreement, you two slowly get out of bed, shower, and go to the kitchen, where Sam looks bleary-eyed and annoyed at the kitchen table with his coffee mug. But he doesn’t have it in his heart to truly be mad at you and Dean. 

“I’m happy for you guys,” Sam says wryly. “Just, next time, put a sock on the door or something. So I know when to break out the ear plugs.”

Now:

Sam finds Dean sprawled on the dining room floor the next morning after Castiel has died, and you have disappeared, along with everyone else on Earth. 

Dean is surrounded by empty beer and liquor bottles. Sam’s heart clenches as he starts to help his brother.

“All right, let’s get you off the floor,” he says. 

In his words, Dean only hears your voice. He shoves Sam off him and stumbles into the kitchen.

There Jack is starting to wash dishes. He takes your little cafetera coffee maker from the stove, preparing to dump the old grounds. Dean grabs it out of his hand.

“Leave it alone,” Dean snaps. He slams it back on the stove where you left it. 

Jack is wide-eyed, but Sam gives his brother a patient warning with his eyes. Dean ignores it and heads for his room.

“Sorry,” Sam says on behalf of his brother. 

Jack shakes his head with tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, I…I understand.” 

He already misses you too. You’d become a kind of older sister to him…and Castiel. Well. Cas was the father Jack will never have again.  

Sam agrees with a nod, clapping Jack comfortingly on the back. 

Sam ventures down the long halls of the bunker to Dean’s room. He pushes the cracked open door, and sees his brother sat hunched on the edge of his bed, hands bracing on his knees.

Sam walks in, swings Dean’s desk chair around, and sits down across from his brother. He rests his forearms on his knees and waits. 

When Dean eventually looks up with red-rimmed eyes, Sam’s heart breaks a little more. For Dean, and for himself.

“We’re going to end this,” Sam promises him.

“We tried to give Chuck what he fucking wanted,” Dean reminds. “We offered to end ourselves, man. He wouldn’t bite. He won’t bring ‘em back.”

Dean’s voice cracks at the end there. Sam takes a deep breath, and lets it out just as slowly.

“We’ll figure out a way,” he says. “We always do.”

“That’s just it,” Dean says, with tired, glassy eyes. “I don’t think we can do it this time.”

Sam’s throat tightens. “Then I’ll believe for both of us.” 

By the time Chuck is done snapping his fingers, Sam, Dean, and Jack are the only people left on Earth.

Until they encounter the Michael of this world, formerly trapped in the cage. They hatch a plan. And even though the angels don’t cooperate, they manage to play straight into the real plan.

Jack is the ace up Team Free Will’s sleeve, and as it turns out, that bomb inside the kid (made of the first Adam’s rib) was good for something. The nephilim absorbs the power of Lucifer, Michael, and ultimately Chuck himself. 

Jack is the one who saves the world. 

Before Dean leaves with his brother and Jack, away from that grassy cliffside in Lebanon, he turns to Chuck.

“Answer me this. Did you…” Dean says, struggling with how to formulate his question. “Meeting my girl. Was that us? Or was it just another manipulation?”

Sam watches his brother with concern. He sees the way Dean’s hand is already itching for his gun. Chuck is human now, and Sam knows how tempting it would be to truly end it.

Chuck himself is still prone on the ground, sitting up with wariness behind his eyes.

“I didn’t tug on that thread, actually,” he admits. “Made sense to let you have a glimmer of happiness, something to hold onto. To fight for.”

Then he looks up at Dean with a tremulous smirk pulling at his lips.

“But I did wait for the perfect moment to dust her, didn’t I?”

Within seconds, Dean’s gun is slipping into his hands with the safety cocked back, the barrel lined up for a straight shot between Chuck’s eyes. Sam barks a warning, but Dean doesn’t altogether care. He’s furious, sneering at the former god who cowers like the coward he is.

“Dean?” Sam calls to him. It’s a question and a warning all at once.

Dean’s mouth works, quirking at a humorless smile. He cocks the safety back in place and lowers his gun with a shaking hand.

He stalks back to the Impala and doesn’t look at his brother.

The only three people left alive in the world ride back into the empty streets of Lebanon, Kansas.

When Jack snaps his fingers, it’s like this little planet is reborn. 

Suddenly, it’s filled with life. People walking their dogs, their kids, hailing cabs, nearly rear-ending each other’s cars in traffic while texting. It’s like the chaos never happened, and equilibrium is restored.

Even the shaggy dog Dean found last week bounds up to him. He bends down to pet the dog’s furry head, scratching behind his ears. Dean’s going to actually have to come up with a name for this thing now. 

And yet…

In a world full of color, Dean still just sees gray. 

He and Sam say a bittersweet goodbye to Jack, who ascends into Heaven. Dean can only hope the kid has a good WiFi signal if they ever need him again, like if he can’t find…

The forgotten cell phone in his pocket buzzes on a ring. He shares a wide-eyed look with Sam, licking his dry lips before he reaches into his jean pocket. He flips the phone over and finds your name across his caller ID.

With a shaking hand, he swipes his thumb across the green button and raises the phone up to his ear. He can’t even make his voice work right away. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to.

“Dean?” your beautiful voice greets him. 

His lips pull at a tremulous smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You let out a relieved breath. 

“Oh, thank God. I’m here at the bunker. Where are you?”

Dean wants to quip that Chuck had nothing to do with it, but he humors you. 

“Not too far,” he says. He gestures to a smiling Sam, and together they haul ass back to the Impala. 

“Promise?” you ask. Dean grins.

“I’ll be home before you know it.”

Once again, you’re tangled up in the bed you share with Dean. Almost every morning without fail, he teasingly grumbles as he tries to free his legs from the knotted sheets. 

“What the hell did you do here, woman?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” you refute. Though your giggle betrays your guilt while he continues to struggle. “You’ll just have to stay in bed then.”

You drag him back to you, and it’s not unpleasant to be welcomed back to the soft warmth of your body. 

“We’ve got some monsters waiting,” he reminds you. 

“They can wait,” you say, and ply him with a lazy morning kiss. It heats up in passion as your hands slide under his shirt… 

But of course, one of said “monsters” predictably starts banging at the bedroom door. It opens a crack, revealing a head of light brown hair and tearful hazel eyes. 

“Mo-oooom! Cari keeps hitting me after you told her not to,” cries your son. 

His older sister stomps behind him, so he ducks into the room to flee from her, heading for the bed and jumping into your arms. 

Dean sighs, hiding his disappointment. You give him a secret smile while brushing back your son’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. To Dean, you gesture with your eyes at the doorway, where your nine-year-old daughter peeks in. She eyes her little brother in annoyance. 

Tattletale, her face says. 

“Caridad,” you call to her in your sterner mom voice. “Come here, please.” 

Cari is most definitely a daddy’s girl, and she beelines for her father. He picks up the nine year old and settles her on the bed, tucked into his side. 

“Robbie’s a crybaby,” she says. 

“No, you are!” Robbie cries indignantly. He tries to push her, but you grab his hand and push it down to the bed. Dean has to do the same with Cari when she tries to pinch her brother.

“All right, all right, enough,” Dean says, with all the authority his own father once had. “Can’t we all just have one morning in peace?”

That’s when Dean’s phone rings on his nightstand. He sighs and answers it, and it’s Sam, asking what time you and Dean plan to come over his house today for the Fourth of July barbecue.

“Give me a couple hours to wrangle the kids,” Dean replies. He has to curl an arm around Cari so she won’t throw another pillow at her brother. 

“Tell Eileen I’m bringing the dessert,” you chime in, calling to Sam in the phone. 

“You got that?” Dean asks his brother. A moment later, he reports back to you with a nod.

“He’s wanting the fluffy cake thing,” Dean says. “The sweet one with the lil’ cherries on top.”

“Tres leches?” you supply with a smile. 

He nods again. “Yeah, that one.” 

“Not a problem, but let’s get them cleaned up so I can start baking,” you say. Though you grunt as a small bare foot kicks at your side.

“Hey!” you reach for your daughter’s arm. “Ya, that’s enough. Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.” 

Dean snorts, watching his children now wrestling each other in the middle of the bed despite your best efforts to keep them apart. 

“Easier said than done,” he mutters. He hangs up with Sam and then surveys the familiar chaos in front of him. 

“All right, you guys want to see your cousins?” Dean bribes. The kids actually pause and perk up at that. 

“We’re going to Uncle Sammy’s house?” Cari asks.

“Yep, so quit screwin’ around. Let’s up and at ‘em,” Dean says. “Brush your teeth and wash your face, then meet me downstairs for breakfast.”

“Can we have Cap’n Crunch?” Robbie asks.  

“No, Raisin Bran,” Cari insists. You have to laugh a little, reaching out to stroke her cheek. Your daughter surely is a special sort of child for genuinely liking Raisin Bran. 

“Fine,” Dean agrees to both with a nod. “Get to it. Come on, let’s go!”

He claps his hands until the kids are up and out of his bed, running to the door. 

“Don’t run!” you warn them. “Caridad Marie Winchester, stop pushing your brother, or you’re not going anywhere.”

The door hangs open as the sounds of small feet patter down the hall, accompanied by childish giggling and yelling. You sigh and lean back into the pillows, closing your eyes. 

“I’m already tired. Why did we have two of those?” 

Dean smirks and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. You keep him close with a hand in his shirt. 

“If I remember right, having the first one was so much fun, you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases.

“Is that what happened? I seem to remember some tequila and cajoling involved,” you smirk, cracking your eyes open. You pull him to you and kiss him thoroughly. 

Both of you try not to lose track of time, but in the ten years since retiring from hunting, learning how to be civilians, true partners, and parents, you’ve become pros at stealing the small moments for yourselves. 

“Come on, babe. Don’t you want Cari to have a little bro?” you mock in his deeper voice. “They’ll protect each other, be each other’s best friends.”

Dean chuckles at your interpretation of him, giving a teasing yank to one of your stray curls. 

“They will, one day. Sam and I didn’t really get each other until later on.”

You smile at that and raise your hand to the beard he’s trying to grow out. You remember him teasing Sam for sporting a “ferret” on his face, once upon a time. But it seems that both Winchester brothers are well-suited to the lumberjack look. 

“Maybe we can get Sam and Eileen to keep the kids tonight,” Dean suggests.

You like the sound of that. Cari and Robbie take any chance for a sleepover with their cousins.

You run a hand down his chest. “You’re saying I’m going to get all this to myself tonight?”

He grabs your hand and kisses it. His gaze holds a familiar heat that makes you smile. Your fingers wiggle teasingly in his grip, which curves his lips as well. Your wedding rings gleam in the lamplight.

We don’t have time now, but we will later, his gaze promises. 

So with a sigh, he releases your hand. 

“All right, lazy. Time to get a move on,” he teases. He then points at you. “Good face.”

Buena cara. Your smile deepens as you start to rise out of bed. It’s become his thing with you, starting the day with a good face. 

Nowadays, you don’t often have a reason not to. 

“I’ll make coffee,” you offer, as you do most mornings. The one time Dean tried to make it your way, he burned the bottom of your coffee press. 

He tosses you a smirk as he pulls on a new shirt. He then digs in his side of the dresser for a pair of jeans that don’t have jelly stains, imprinted on with small fingers. 

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he agrees. “I think today’s a two-shot kinda morning. What do you think?”

You sidle up behind him at the dresser and swat him on the ass. He jolts a little, making a rumbling sound as he eyes you in your little black nightgown. It’s a warning, not to start something you two won’t have time to finish.

“Sounds about right.” Bracing your hands on his hips, you lean up on your toes so you can rest your chin on his shoulder, meeting his eyes in the mirror. You smile.

“Two cortaditos coming up.”

AN: Aaaand I am soft. 🥹 I've been wanting to get to this for a while now. If you like it, let me know! ❤️

Some more Spanish translations for ya:

This is a callback from "Devour Me" with “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez… Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

Translation:

"Devour me again. Come, devour me again…

Because my mouth has the taste of your body. My lust for you is exasperating."

“Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.”

Translation:

“Calm down, or I’ll calm you down. Both of you, damn it.” [😂 I think every Latina mom has spouted this at least once lol.]

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is “Dream With Me.” It's set in the time gap in this story. Specifically, in 15x20:

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend calls for help on a case, you have a tough decision to make. But Dean isn’t going to let you do anything alone. (AKA: The last hunt you, Sam, and Dean will ever go on together.)

▶️ Next Story: Dream With Me (PART 1)

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[sunlightmurdock]

im the anon who mentioned older bf/firefighter bradley and i dont have any thots because honestly it all just turns my brain to mush BUT he's such a "good girl", "i got you", "i'll take care of you", "you got me" coded guy (in whichever context...) ugh i love him so bad 😭❣️

He’s the best because he’ll always be able to tell you why your car is making that funny noise, or why your shower head won’t stop dripping, or why your lights flicker even after the bulb has just been changed.

Plus, it’s always a pleasant sight to see him leaning over the hood of your car with his brows furrowed in concentration, or his biceps flexing as he conquers your shower head with a wrench. Even when he takes his shirt off to fix your shoddy lighting situation, just because he knows you like to watch.

You’ve joked with him before that he looks like an action figure when he’s in his uniform because he’s so handsome. If he was, his catchphrases would be ‘I’ll take care of it’, ‘Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got it’ or — your personal favourite — ‘I’ve got you’.

“Bradshaw, your girl’s here!”

He turns and looks at you over his shoulder, lips quirking up into a beyond handsome grin. He sets down the generic looking tool he’s working with and turns towards you as you stroll into the firehouse.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifts you swiftly off of your feet and kisses you, then sets you on your feet again.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” He asks, taking his time to look down at the cute outfit you turned up in. He knows damn well that you’re wearing it for his benefit. He adores undressing you.

“Can’t I just be here because I wanted to see you?” You ask, looking sweetly up at him. He smiles back knowingly. If you had just wanted to see him, he would be making the short walk over to your place on his lunch break. You wouldn’t be here in front of all of his colleagues, unless you’re suddenly much more adventurous than he had anticipated. He raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

“Okay, fine. Could you come and help me hang the new blinds I got for my room?”

“You still haven’t put those up? — What did I tell you, that window is right in front of your bed.” Bradley frowns, fingers curling around your hips as he tugs you closer to him. He knows what this neighbourhood is like. He can’t stand the thought of you changing in front of that window.

“I tried, but it’s high up and you’re tall. Please?” You smile. His frown softens. He can never stay mad at you.

He leans down and kisses you softly. “I’ve got it. I’ll be there just after five.”

And he is, promptly. Arriving at your door still in his uniform, marching you through to your room and installing the blinds with ease. He makes you sit on your bed and watch him do it, in case you need to do this again when he isn’t around.

Not that he would ever let that happen.

“Alright — looks good.” He shrugs, prodding the blind with his finger and turning to face you. At some point during the installation, you’ve gotten changed. Well, undressed. Sitting on the edge of your bed, just like he had told you, now wearing just your bra and panties.

You watch his face change as he crosses towards you and grabs hold of your waist, grinning as he tosses you onto the centre of the bed and covers your body with his. Just like you had hoped, he’s kissing you passionately and tearing his shirt over his head within seconds of finishing the project.

But then, he pulls back and studies your face, frowning slightly. “Baby… you know that I don’t help you out because I expect sex, right?”

You grin up at him deviously, draping your arms around his muscled shoulders and nodding your head.

“I know,” You tell him, sitting up and pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. He closes his eyes as your mouth works soft, open-mouthed kisses up until your lips are grazing his ear. “But that’s why I ask you to help me out. Just so we’re clear.”

He pulls back swiftly, eyes wide in disbelief as you giggle up at him. You watch the surprise on his face become amusement as he squeezes at your waist.

[dominimoonbeam]

Don't Run - 21

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

you can find the series from the start over on patreon.

story tags: mobsters, romance, explicit sex, explicit language, learning to trust, dark themes, bad childhood, arranged marriage, reference to past murder, kidnapping, danger, violence, guns

DON’T RUN - CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

She dreamed of hands on her skin, of tangled limbs and grinding hips. She dreamed of Ezra and Adi, of being between them and with them. It was sensory overload and when she woke up, alone, she was wet and aching.

Fuck.

Her mind raced, trying to shake off Adi in that context. Where the hell had that come from?

She rolled off her bed before her hands could wander, but by the time she was in her bathroom, she’d forgotten that restraint. She pulled off her hoodie, the bathroom dim but not so dim that she couldn’t see her reflection, standing there with mussed-up hair in her bra and leggings.

Had she really had a sex dream about Adi?

Freya tucked her hair behind her ear, fingers lingering the way his had.

Ezra made sense. Ezra she had slept with. Ezra she liked.

Adi?

She couldn’t trust Adi.

When she closed her eyes she imagined behind between them, the sounds of their groans so vivid in her fantasy that she could have sworn she’d really heard them.

Sliding one hand down the front of her leggings and into her underwear, she touched herself. “Fuck…” she hissed, leaning forward against the sink and stroking her slick folds. She was so wet. She rubbed her clit but it was already so far from enough. She wanted more. Needed more. She pushed her hand down a little farther to curl a finger into herself, where Ezra’s cock had filled her just that morning.

Was he still in the apartment?

Was Adi?

She swallowed her sounds, trying not to fantasize about them, but it was impossible. She came, thinking about them bending her over a desk and taking turns.

When the lust cleared enough for her to think, she cursed herself and pulled her hand from her leggings, quick to wash up. What was wrong with her? She should be doing everything in her power to escape this city. She should be plotting Adi Ellis’s death, not thinking about getting his hands on her and her hands on him.

Freya grabbed a tank top and pulled it on, heading out of her room and trying not to overthink it—not to wonder who might still be in the apartment—trying to pretend she was hoping the place was empty.

When she walked down the hall, she could hear the deep bass of Adi’s voice behind one of the doors. He had to be on the phone because no one was replying to him.

The sun was on its way down outside the living room windows. She must have slept all day. She still needed to get a phone and check in with her aunt before—

“Good morning,” Ezra said from the corner of the big couch.

Freya blinked at him, realizing it was the first time she’d seen anyone actually sit in that space. Until now, it had just been decorative. Like, of course an apartment should have a living room, it didn’t mean Adi actually lived there.

Ezra sat up and picked up a slender box on the coffee table, holding it out for her.

It was easy to let the gravity of Ezra draw her in. She took the box and sat next to him. “Did you really stay here all day?”

Ezra shrugged. “Not all day. I went out and picked up a few things.” He gestured at the bags on the coffee table.

The box he’d handed her was a new phone. “We were going to set it up while you were sleeping but…” He smirked.

“I might think you’d installed tracking software or something?”

Ezra shrugged and watched her open the box and turn on the device. There was a new sim card sitting on the table too. “Can we talk about some stuff?” he asked.

He was so good at making things sound easy and casual. She leaned back into the couch beside them, aware of just how close they were to touching. Suddenly she wasn’t nearly as free of that haze of lust as she had thought a minute ago. “What stuff?”

“Sex stuff.”

Freya laughed, not at what he’d said but just at how perfectly it railed against her efforts to avoid the subject. “What’s there to talk about? We did it.”

He nodded, turning in his corner of the couch to almost face her beside him, his knee against her thigh. “Was it a one-time thing?”

She glanced back toward the hallway—toward the office where Adi had been.

“Do you want to invite him to join?”

Her head whipped forward again. She was half expecting some mocking smirk on his mouth but Ezra just looked sincere. “Join us in this conversation or bed?”

“Up to you,” he said easily. “I’m sleeping with both of you so it would just make things easier for me if you were in the same bed…”

She huffed a laugh and sank down into the cushions of the couch. “We could keep sleeping together…” she said, rather than addressing the idea of adding Adi to the mix, her dreams still too vivid in her mind.

Ezra actually looked relieved, one arm sliding across the back of the couch behind her head. “Then I have more questions… just to get some groundwork done.”

She rolled her head to the side to look at him. This was the second couch she’d found herself on with him in the same day. “Okay.”

“How do you feel about PDA?”

“Such as?”

His fingertips touched her shoulder, sliding up the side of her neck into the back of her hair. “Can I be familiar with you in front of people? Put an arm around you? Hug you? Kiss you?”

She tensed.

He smiled. “So, no?”

“I told Adi I wouldn’t cause him trouble,” she tried to explain. That was the agreement wasn’t it? She played nice for this treaty and his family, didn’t betray him or aid any of his enemies, and he’d help her escape.

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Did he say you couldn’t fuck around?” There was an edge to his voice then, like he wasn’t just surprised, he was ready to be pissed.

She huffed a laugh. “No.” In fact, he’d told her she absolutely could fuck around, just to stay clear of his enemies. “Okay. I’m good with PDA, but are you? Aren’t you and Adi doing this whole open relationship thing? Wouldn’t throwing your arm around me in public send the wrong signal to other possible hook-ups?”

Ezra laughed, fingers still in her hair. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

She snorted at that. “For now,” she added for him. They barely knew each other and from what she’d heard at that brunch, Adi and Ezra both had reputations for going through relationships. The pang in her heart surprised her though. Why should she care? She wasn’t going to stay. None of this was permanent.

“So, tell me what you like and what you don’t?”

“Like how I like coffee but I don’t like tea?”

His smile was so beautiful. “No, like how you like dirty talk.”

Warmth washed over her. “So do you,” she remembered.

He nodded. “What else? Any kinks I should know about? Any hard lines?”

She considered it. They were practically snuggling now in that corner of the couch. How had that happened? How had the gravity of Ezra taken her so close before she realized it? “You ever say good girl to me, and I’ll punch you,” Freya warned.

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” His arm was around her, his hand on her side. “How do you feel about oral?”

“You were good at it,” she admitted. All of her previous sexual encounters had been hurried and rough. Not bad, but not like what she’d done with Ezra.

She felt his chest swell against her side and his smile was almost out of control. “Thank you.”

Freya huffed a laugh. “No. Thank you.”

“So…in those woods where you grew up,” he started, biting his lip.

She looked up at him. “What about it?”

“Do you have horses?”

She held back a smile. “Yes.”

“I’m guessing you’re pretty good at riding a horse then, right?”

“If you think you’re comparable to a horse…”

He laughed and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for fishing for the compliment, can you?”

“Kinda…” She liked this too much. She liked the easy way it felt to just be with him, against him, curled up on a couch like this was real—like this was their home or her life. “What about you? Any kinks I should know about?” she threw back at him.

Ezra shook his head, his hand moved down to her thigh. “Nothing big, nothing that needs negotiating beforehand.” He spread his fingers and gripped that thigh, making her breath catch when he lifted her onto his lap, sitting between his legs with her back to his chest. Their legs were stretched on the cushions, the hall to the other rooms just over there and the low hum of Adi’s voice still escaping through a door. “I like praise, I like making people feel really good…” His voice had dropped into a deep whisper, pressed right into the skin of her neck when he bent his neck to place kisses.

“Ezra…”

“I like when you say my name,” he added to his list, his hands on her thighs again, stroking from the outside to the inside, spreading them and sliding higher.

Her breath came faster, catching when he bit softly at her neck just behind her jaw. “He might come out here…”

Ezra moaned into her skin and cupped her cunt through the thin layers of her leggings and underwear. “I like the risk of being caught…” His other hand slid under her shirt to glide over skin and palm her breast, teasing it out of her bra to pinch her nipple.

She gasped and arched into his hands. “Fuck…”

“I also like when you tell me what you want… When you say it…” he whispered close to her ear.

Freya clenched her teeth, staring at the hallway. It wasn’t a good idea. She needed to keep things simple and keep her distance from these two. She needed to stick her to plan and focus on escaping. But his palm rubbed at her sex, until she whimpered at the rough feel of her wet panties mashing against her clit. “Get me off.”

He actually shuddered behind her, muffling his own moan into her neck when he let go of her cunt just long enough to slip his hand between those layers, down her bare skin, back to her aching sex. One of his legs hooked over one of hers to pull and pin it to the side.

She gasped, barely choking back her own cry of need when his fingers spread her and pressed inside. “Fucking…” she whined, kicking at the cushions. She wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. “Cover my mouth.”

He panted against her neck, his big hand leaving her breast to cover the lower half of her face, holding her to him while he fingered her on the couch.

She bucked and groaned into his palm, writhing in his grip and always keeping her eyes on the empty hallway.

He added another finger and her eyes rolled back. The heel of his palm mashed against her clit every time his fingers thrust into her.

“You’re so wet…” he whispered near her ear. “You feel so good.”

She was close. She was so close. She could barely see straight—could barely keep her eyes open to watch that hallway. And why was she even bothering to watch it? What could she do about it if Adi walked out of his office and saw them?

As soon as she thought it—she knew she wasn’t watching out of worry that he might, but out of hope that he would. She imagined him standing there, seeing them on the couch, seeing her pinned and finger fucked into a mess of pleasure. She imagined him getting hard and palming himself to the sight.

She came hard, screaming into Ezra’s palm and shaking out her orgasm in waves.

For long seconds they just breathed together in the wake, and then he pulled his fingers out of her and she shivered. His long fingers were slick with her lust, making heat rush her cheeks at the sight, but instead of rubbing them off on the couch or his jeans, he brought his hand up and thrust them into his own mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied up.

She moaned, melting against him.

He let go of her face and kissed her cheek. “You’re so hot… the sounds you make…”

She bit her lip and twisted sideways, still shaky but reaching to palm him through the front of his pants. He wasn’t soft but he wasn’t nearly as hard as she’d expected.

Ezra huffed a laugh and caught her wrist, pulling it away from his cock and settling it on his chest. “Not yet.”

Freya raised an eyebrow. “Still spent from this morning?”

His smirk was devious. “No.”

She frowned, at first not getting it. And then she did, her gaze flicking to the hall and then back. “Oh.”

His smirk wavered. “Is it going to be a problem?”

Freya laughed and shook her head. Not like that, no. The only problem was that she liked the idea of them too much. She liked both of them too much. It was all a problem, but it wasn’t the problem he might be worrying about. “I’m the homewrecker, Ezra. How fucked up would it be if I got jealous of Adi.”

He settled his arms around her, pulling her more comfortably into his lap. “You’re not a homewrecker.”

“And you’re not a mistress,” she agreed.

They were a mess.

[plaindangan]

how did angie secure the top spot in DRBB of the v3 division? that seems to be the installment with the fiercest of compentition.

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

So you wanted to know more about Queen Angie, hm?

You would find Angie in her workshop, and once inside...feel it. An atmosphere that would encourage you to treat lightly, though if your senses were failing you, the iconography of the place would send the message loud and clear. There statues, wooden to clay depicting some sort of goddess sitting on throne of various glutes. Looking at you with closed eyes, and a careful smile that screamed 'hello, but watch your step".

You were welcomed here, but that was very conditional. But who made these statues? Well, might as well go in deeper. When you reach the back of her workshop, you see a long, yellow, curtain blocking your line of sight.

"Atua was expecting you!!! Enter~" Came a chipper, yet authoritative voice from behind it. Suddenly, the curtains were drawn back and you bore witness to what laid behind it. First thing to notice were the servants, girls dressed in thin, light blue skirts that left little to the imagination and seashell bras similar to that of the artist they were idolizing. They were standing around a throne, with two of their number fanning the 'Queen' herself.

Speaking of the Queen her gaze was directly at you...or down at you~ The new Angie was an imposing, regal, figure that would have been looking down at even Gonta from what you guessed. She was currently wearing...well, not much. At least, in terms of clothing, She was adorned with many of jewels, from gold earrings to necklaces bracelets, which only served to make her very hard to ignore. Well, that and the fact she wasn't wearing a shirt or a bra. Yep, her chest was bare and with it, you could hardly pry yourself away from the sight of her stacked, glossy, boo-

"You seem to be distracted~ Like what the Queen has?~" Angie asked, giggling when she sees you start blushing, flustered over being called out. At the very least, she didn't look annoyed. In fact she seemed amused.

"Come closer, please!" she asked, but given her tone, you be hard pressed to deny it. You closer to her, only for Angie, to take you by the arm and sit you upon her lap, cuddling you. Putting you even closer to the boobs that would have anyone captivated, and bringing attention to her bottom half as well. Angie was wearing a long, bright yellow, semi-transparent beach skirt - on that had quite the thigh opening to show off Angie's equally massive hips as well, and the fact they had the initials 'Q.A' tattooed on. No guess to what those means as well~ As Angie looked down at you tenderly, beyond how warm you were feeling, you get a good look at how long her hair had become and what laid upon it. A gold crown that signified her new status - and the story that laid behind it.

"Finally remembering why you came to me, riiight? Nyahaha~ So sidetracked you can be! Now, just relax and listen to Angie~ It's not a long story!"

"Now, originally, after that Near Atua sized boombox began to play, there was just three Queens initially. Junko, Ibuki and Miu, they were at the center of it playing and got the brunt of the effects first, and quickly amassed their own followings. But, but, but!~ Atua said it loud and clear that this could not stand! He wanted me to become Queen of my year and to spread His message while I stand at the top!! As His devout follower, I simply had to do His bidding!! Especially since Miu was quite fierce as a ruler as she was overbearing!! She was quite the meanie, crushing poor twinks and flatties at random just to show her new booty!!"

"But Atua told me to remain strong and to trust in His power~ So I did and challenged Miu directly. Back then divisions weren't exactly a thing...though after Angie was done, Junko pretty much pushed for a more rank-based/earning system to avoid having a Queen just lose her spot out of the blue~" Angie giggled before clearing her throat. "Oh, but I'm getting sidetracked. I challenged Miu to an audience based twerk fight and she accepted!!"

"Oh, that Miu...she's the sort to let even slight power go to her head. She thought that by finally getting a booty as big as her boobs, she'd be forever unbeatable. But that's the thing about arrogance...Atua cares not for it." Eeeeep!! Angie's eyes glazed over in what could best be described as 'contained annoyance'. Right before giving a dangerously playful smirk. "Especially since He made Angie be in a league of her own!! Miu was...okay in our battle. But she lacked any sort of skill beyond making perverted gestures and wildly throwing her bottom back. She truly thought she could win off of that alone!! But Atua spoke differently, He trained Angie for the longest time in instilling in her that twerking is not just an erotic act, but art as well...and you don't expect the Ultimate Artist to fall in that category, riiight?~ Even the others of my years have yet to really learn such a lesson...though, I suppose a few have gotten close and are really improving. Angie even had to sweat a bit during the last-oop! Here she goes again, going off-topic~" She adjusted her crown and smiled proudly, if a bit embarrassed for supposedly rambling.

"As you can see, Angie was declared the victor by unanimous agreement, and in turn she received this body!! A gift from Atua for doing such hard work, and proof of Angie's devotion...though I suppose you haven't seen all of it~" Huh? Nudging you to her feet, Angie stood up soon after and turned aroun-!!!

Breathless you got a real good look at what she had going on underneath that dress. While it may have been hidden by the throne, you were now able to witness just how gargantuan her ass was, looking like a heavy shelf that was attached to her than apart of her body...but when she pulled up her skirt, you knew it was very real. Slick with sweat, rippling with the lightest of shakes and soft, yet audible sounds coming from each mini-claps....it was truly an ass fit for a Queen. There was even an intricate sun tattoo on Angie's left, which only served to keep Angie's ass being more delectable for you.

"It's amazing, riiight~ I'm sure you want an even better look, which you'll get...after your donation!!!" ...Huh? Snapping her fingers, Angie's servants had closed the curtain and had your surrounded with mischievous grins. Almost as wide as Angie's smirk.

"Don't be alarmed, it's simply a fair trade for those that invite themselves to my abode!! You get your info, and we get 'something else' from you!! Agreed? Agreeed!!! Plus, you'll get quite the show from us once we've collected your 'donation'...assuming you don't want to donate more that is~ Nyahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa~" As Angie laughed and turned around with glints of mischief in your eyes, it seems as if you'll be staying with her for a while.

Guess there's a price to pay for even simple information like this~

[protechdetailing]

When it comes to car detailing in Phoenix AZ, there is one name that stands out from the rest — Protech Detailing AZ. We specialize in a wide range of car detailing services including ceramic coating, ppf, paint protection film, clear bra, window tint, heat rejecting films, full details, concourse style detailing.

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Official Website: https://www.prodetailaz.com/ Google Plus Listing: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=1963596312594524527

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[rallyecoachworks]

What Is a Certified or Trained Auto Body Shop?

When a shop is certified, the vehicle’s manufacturer has approved the auto body shop to repair the cars they make. These shops are specially qualified to work on specific makes and models. Technicians at these shops have undergone rigorous training and testing to become certified. They also prioritize using factory-grade parts for repairs, which helps ensure that the repairs are done correctly. Certified technicians can also access the latest repair procedures and techniques, which are not always available to technicians at non-certified shops.

[woolandcoffee]

I’m already digging into the planning aspect of next year’s capsule wardrobe project (expect a couple different posts on that), but even before I start nailing down exactly what I want to make, there are a few things I need to do. Gonna put a wee to-do list on the blog for anyone who’s interested in watching my progress. I’ll cross things off as they’re finished.

- Clean and organize sewing room - Go through all my clothing, sort through what I’m keeping, what I’m getting rid of, and pull out anything that needs repairs - Figure out my foundations (this may take a bit of time as I would like to experiment with some long-line bras, and possibly a merry widow. I’ll be making all of these myself so this will be a bit of a process) - Revisit my bodice block to ensure it still fits properly

Update 12/12/22

My sewing room has now been thoroughly cleaned and reorganized meaning it is officially ready to handle next year’s sewing. In particular, the closet in my sewing room needed to be cleared out, painted, and have shelving and rods installed. That has all been done, and it is now much easier to access all my fabrics and patterns.

After this week, I’ll be taking two weeks off during which I plan to get some more stuff crossed off my list. I’m currently in the process of experimenting with some foundations. My goal is to settle on a garment that will give lift, bust support, and back support, ideally without resting all the weight on my shoulders and cut to accommodate the lower necklines that I prefer. Currently, I’m putting together a mockup for a vintage corselet style bra that I’m hoping will fit the bill. I don’t want to start any other garment sewing until I have the foundations sorted out, so hopefully this works.

Update 02/03/23

I have figured out a long line bra pattern that works for me. It is very comfortable, and I should be able to easily use it as the foundation for my wardrobe. Next step is to check my bodice block against myself wearing the bra, and then I should be able to actually start sewing. With that in mind, I will likely post the outline for the wardrobe itself soon.

[masterprotectionfilms]

Clear Bra Near Me | PPF Installation

Vehicle Original Paint Protection Film Orange County!

Looking for a clear bra near me to protect my car's paint from scratches and chips?

Contact Master Protection Films today! Protect your vehicle’s original paint before it’s too late!

[starrypawz]

Writing has been a heck lately but I do give you another installment of 'dork goths doing smut things'

AO3

Gerry’s moan is muffled through a mouthful of black t-shirt (He’s not quite sure why his instinct was to bite down on it)

There’s a chuckle from between his shaking legs and he hazily focuses on Nemo as they kneel there with one hand wrapped around his now very slick cock Nemo grins and Gerry gives a muffled whimper as they look him right in the eye. 

“C’mon big bat,” Nemo teases, voice low in a way that Gerry’s found goes right to his cock, “Let me hear you,” 

Nemo squeezes, just on the edge of too hard and whatever Gerry wants to say comes out as a muffled ‘ngh’ instead.

He whimpers again, gives Nemo a pleading look that he hopes translates to ‘I need a moment’ that Nemo seems to understand as Nemo pulls their hand back and Gerry pants, fabric fallen from his mouth with his head against the backrest. 

He squirms as he feels the press of Nemo’s cheek against his cock and hazily watches as Nemo nuzzles him and finds it both one of the most adorable things he’s ever seen and really fucking hot at the same time and he reaches out to lightly run his fingers through Nemo’s hair and chuckles breathlessly as Nemo leans into his touch with a soft sigh. 

And then Nemo looks up at him and with a grin pulls up their black tanktop and Gerry loses his breath all over again and nearly bites through his lip.

And then Nemo giggles. Giggles and reaches up to tease their tits and Gerry’s pretty sure there’s nothing more perfect in the world as Nemo teases themself. There’s just enough there for Nemo to get a decent handful and the way they bite their lip as they lightly pinch a nipple is just divine. 

The concept of Nemo’s tits had been living rent free in his mind for months. Spurred on by a hot day where Nemo had ditched the oversized hoodie and he’d been reminded there’s a  body under there, and that Nemo has tits. (And also that Nemo wasn’t wearing a bra) and it had sent his normally actually pretty sensible considering all the weird bullshit he had to deal with brain completely haywire. 

And it was just another slightly off beat step as they’d stumbled into whatever… whatever this is. 

Shortly after that hot day there had been that whole incident where he was in the shower and Nemo had called him and it led to a mutual wank over the phone. And then the next stumbling step had been that… argument of a sort in his bedroom in the attic of Pinhole in all places in which feelings were made very clear and Nemo had ended up pinned against the wall with their legs around Gerry’s waist and everything felt so fucking right. 

And from then this weird wobbling waltz had taken a few more steps where one night a tipsy, giggling nemo had wanted to see how big he was and that had lead to a blowjob. 

And then another

And another

A a couple of handjobs thrown in for good measure 

And obviously he’d returned the favour and-

“Gerry?” 

Nemo looks up at him,  eyebrows raised as they gently rub his thigh  and Gerry nods. And he’s back into Nemo’s mouth with a smirk. Their mouth all sorts of wet and wonderful as they tease him in earnest  (And there’s slurping sounds that in other contexts would likely sound completely revolting but somehow here they sound amazing)  as Gerry moans and tips his head back, one hand pulls up his shirt and he shudders as he begins to tease his nipples. 

(And he finds himself wondering all over again if he could cum just from playing with them) 

“Nemo…” Gerry’s hips try to buck but Nemo’s hands are surprisingly firm against his thighs to keep him in place (And he can unpack the flutter that invokes later, much later)  as they take him as exactly as deep as they want. 

“Fuck…” His moan is louder than he expects and Nemo’s chuckle is muffled. 

And at that moment Nemo pulls back for air and Gerry’s aware of his loud, whimpering groan that trails into some sort of weird gibberish noise he can’t explain but otherwise his mind seems wiped blank until he finds himself shaking and panting as he stares wide eyed at Nemo. Their pale skin flushed red, their lips slick and grinning (And oh shit is that just a little bit of drool just under their lip… why is that hot?)  and their chest splattered with cum. (Although by some miracle he did manage to just miss Nemo’s rucked up shirt. 

“Sh-... Oh shit… shit… sorry,” He stumbles out not quite sure where the spare blood to make his cheeks burn is coming from. 

“That was really hot,” 

Nemo giggles and throws in a shake for good measure and Gerry nearly bites through his lip, again.

[ppfpaintprotectionfilminstal]

PPF Paint Protection Film Installer

Scottsdale Scottsdale Auto Film Specialists provide PPF (paint protection film) and clear bras for supercars, Tesla, cars, trucks Cybertrucks in the Scottsdale, AZ area Tags: PPF, PPF Scottsdale Visit:https://www.scottsdalefilmspecialists.com/paint-protection-film-scottsdale

[mirrorfinishdetail]

How Can Paint Protection Help Preserve Your Car’s Resale Value?

When it comes to maintaining your car's resale value, a well-preserved exterior can make a significant difference. One of the most effective ways to protect your vehicle’s paint job is through paint protection. 

But what exactly is paint protection in Melbourne, and how does it help in preserving your car’s resale value? In this blog, we'll explore the benefits of paint protection, the different types available, and why investing in it is a smart decision for any car owner.

What is Paint Protection?

Paint protection refers to various treatments and coatings applied to a vehicle's exterior to shield it from environmental damage and wear. These coatings form a protective layer over the car’s paint, safeguarding it against factors like UV rays, road debris, and chemical contaminants. There are several types of paint protection products available, each with its own set of benefits.

Types of Paint Protection

Wax Coatings

Wax is one of the most traditional forms of paint protection. It provides a shiny finish and a basic level of protection against water and UV rays. However, wax needs frequent reapplication, typically every few months, and offers limited resistance to scratches and other forms of damage.

Sealants

Paint sealants are synthetic products designed to provide a longer-lasting protective layer compared to wax. They offer excellent resistance to UV rays, water, and chemicals, and can last up to six months. Sealants are easier to apply and maintain than wax, making them a popular choice for car owners.

Ceramic Coatings

Ceramic coatings are a more advanced form of paint protection. Made from silicon dioxide, these coatings bond with the paint to create a durable, hydrophobic layer. Ceramic coatings offer exceptional protection against scratches, UV rays, and chemical contaminants. They also make the car easier to clean and maintain. A well-applied ceramic coating can last several years, providing long-term protection for your vehicle.

Paint Protection Film (PPF)

Paint Protection Film, also known as clear bra, is a transparent film applied to the vehicle's surface. This film is designed to absorb impacts from road debris and protect against scratches and chips. PPF is highly durable and can be professionally installed to cover high-impact areas like the front bumper, hood, and side mirrors. It’s an excellent choice for those who want maximum protection without altering the car’s appearance.

How Paint Protection Preserves Resale Value

Maintains Aesthetic Appeal

A car's appearance plays a crucial role in its resale value. A well-maintained exterior with a glossy, scratch-free finish will attract potential buyers more than a vehicle with a faded or damaged paint job. Paint protection helps preserve the car’s original shine and colour, ensuring it looks as good as new when it’s time to sell.

Protects Against Damage

Environmental factors such as UV rays, acid rain, and road salt can cause significant damage to a car's paint over time. This damage can lead to fading, discolouration, and corrosion, all of which negatively impact resale value. Paint protection creates a barrier against these elements, reducing the likelihood of such damage and maintaining the car’s overall condition.

Reduces Maintenance Costs

Cars with paint protection in Melbourne are generally easier to clean and maintain. Dirt, grime, and stains are less likely to adhere to the protected surface, and regular washing becomes simpler. This ease of maintenance means the car will remain in better condition, which is appealing to prospective buyers and can lead to a higher resale value.

Prevents Costly Repairs

Addressing paint damage can be expensive, particularly if it involves professional repairs or repainting. By investing in paint protection, you reduce the risk of such damage occurring in the first place. This proactive approach can save you from costly repairs and ensure that the car remains in prime condition for resale.

Enhances Vehicle Longevity

Paint protection contributes to the overall longevity of your vehicle. A car that has been well cared for and protected is likely to have fewer issues and a longer lifespan. This extended longevity can be a selling point for buyers, who may be willing to pay a premium for a vehicle that has been meticulously maintained.

Final Words

Investing in paint protection in Melbourne is a wise decision for any car owner looking to preserve their vehicle’s resale value. Whether you opt for wax, sealants, ceramic coatings, or paint protection film, each type offers unique benefits that contribute to maintaining your car’s appearance and condition. 

By protecting your car’s paint, you not only enhance its aesthetic appeal but also safeguard it against damage, reduce maintenance costs, and prevent expensive repairs. Ultimately, paint protection is a smart investment that can help you get the best return on your vehicle when it’s time to sell.

Source BY: How Paint Protection Preserves Resale Value

[altamereplanotx]

PPFCLear Bra

  Clear Bra For My Car

When properly installed, clear bras are invisible and have no impact on your car’s paint job. However, the material can peel or yellow over time. Prepping your car for clear paint protection film is a meticulous process. It requires a clean, dry painted surface. It also involves working out creases and air bubbles before the PPF is dried.

Self-healing

A clear bra protects your car’s finish from the elements to keep it looking like new. UV rays, harsh winters, road salt, and even bird droppings can damage your paint and detract from that shiny look you love. The urethane layer of a clear bra is designed to prevent chips, scratches and scuffs. It also adds a smooth surface to your paint that makes it easier to clean and maintain that glossy look you desire. When the paint protection film is heated (either from the sun or a heat gun) the elastomeric polymers soften and allow small scratches or swirls to self heal. This keeps the appearance of your car fresh and is one of the reasons why people choose PPF over traditional clear bras. It is important to hire a professional installer for your clear bra installation. An inexperienced installer could make the film uneven or create air bubbles that will mar the appearance of your car.

Longevity

Clear bra, also known as paint protection film (PPF), is a transparent material that allows the natural beauty of your new car’s factory paint to shine through. It produces amazing protection from rock chips, bug splatters, tree sap, and road debris to keep your vehicle looking like brand new year-round! In addition to its protective qualities, clear bra is easy to clean and maintain. It’s resistant to most chemicals and abrasive materials, making it simple to wash your car without damaging the paint protection film. In addition, it is able to resist scratching, which makes it an ideal solution for vehicles that are driven daily and/or frequently parked in tight spaces. It’s important to note that clear bra doesn’t protect your vehicle from all damage. If a five-pound rock hits your hood while you are driving 55 mph, it’s going to cause damage regardless of how protected your paint is. However, applying a professional ceramic coating on top of your clear bra will add an extra layer of defense.

Maintenance

It’s a common saying in the automotive world, “prep work makes the difference”. Whether you are rebuilding an 10,000-horsepower top fuel dragster Nitro engine or getting paint protection film installed on your vehicle, the quality of prep is critical to a successful outcome. The same is true when it comes to clear bra installation. You want to ensure that the area where the urethane film is being applied is free of contaminants, waxes and scratches. This will guarantee a precision fit and minimize the chances of peeling or yellowing of the paint protection film. A clear bra can help protect the high strike areas of a car’s front end including the bumper, headlight covers, grill and hood. These areas are prone to rock chips and bugs that can cause damage and detract from the vehicle’s value. Having paint protection film protecting these areas will make it easier to maintain and keep your car looking like new.

Installation

A clear bra helps protect high strike areas, like your front bumper, grill, headlight covers, hood, and fenders. These areas are more likely to get bug guts, minor scratches, or paint chips. The good news is that these types of damage can be repaired easily. The self-healing technology in clear bras can make small scuff marks disappear. These films also help prevent the chemical damage caused by things such as bird droppings, sap from trees, and mineral deposits. This is a popular choice for drivers who want to protect their car from damage and keep it looking brand new. When properly installed by the pros at Alta Mere in Plano,Texas, it will allow the beauty of the vehicle’s paint job to shine through with minimal dulling effect. It is important to choose a professional installer that uses quality products, because the film must be trimmed carefully to fit over the contours of your vehicle. Improper installation can result in air bubbles that will ruin the appearance of the film. Read the full article

[championwintint]

Paint Protection Film: The Ultimate Guardian for Your Car's Shine

Imagine this: You’ve just driven your car off the lot. The paint glistens under the sun, and the pristine finish turns heads at every corner. Fast forward a few months, and the reality of road life sets in—rock chips, scratches, and fading paint start to dull that once radiant shine. But what if there was a way to preserve that new-car look? Enter Paint Protection Film (PPF), the game-changing solution for car lovers everywhere.

What is Paint Protection Film?

Paint Protection Film, commonly known as PPF or clear bra, is a transparent, robust urethane film designed to protect your vehicle's exterior. Initially developed for military purposes, PPF has been adapted for automotive use to guard against the myriad hazards that can damage your car’s paint.

The Perks of Paint Protection Film

Ultimate Shielding

Physical Barrier: PPF provides a durable shield against rock chips, minor scratches, and road debris, ensuring your car’s paint remains unscathed.

Chemical Defense: It protects against environmental contaminants like bird droppings, tree sap, road salt, and bug splatter, all of which can cause significant damage to your car’s finish.

Self-Healing Technology

One of the most impressive features of modern PPF is its self-healing capability. Minor scratches and swirl marks vanish when exposed to heat, whether from the sun or a heat gun, keeping your car’s surface flawless.

UV Protection

PPF blocks harmful UV rays that can cause paint to fade and oxidize. This ensures your car retains its vibrant color and glossy finish over time.

Aesthetic Enhancement

Beyond protection, PPF enhances your car’s appearance. It adds a high-gloss finish that makes the paint look deeper and more luxurious. For those seeking a unique look, matte PPF options provide a sleek, custom finish.

Long-Term Savings

While the initial investment in PPF can be significant, it ultimately saves money by reducing the need for paint repairs and touch-ups. By preserving your car’s paint, PPF helps maintain its resale value, making it a cost-effective choice in the long run.

Professional Installation vs. DIY: Making the Right Choice

Deciding whether to have PPF professionally installed or to use a DIY kit depends on your budget, skill level, and the results you want to achieve.

Professional Installation

Expertise: Professional installers have the training and experience to apply the film perfectly, without bubbles or imperfections.

Warranty: Many professional services offer warranties, providing peace of mind and guaranteeing the quality of the installation.

Precision: Professionals tailor the film to fit your car’s specific contours, ensuring comprehensive coverage and a seamless finish.

DIY Kits

Affordability: DIY kits are more budget-friendly and can be a rewarding project for those who enjoy working on their cars.

Skill Requirement: Applying PPF yourself requires patience, a steady hand, and attention to detail. Mistakes can be costly, so it’s crucial to follow instructions carefully and be prepared for a challenging task.

Maintaining Your Paint Protection Film

To ensure your PPF stays in top condition, follow these maintenance tips:

Regular Washing: Wash your car regularly with a pH-balanced shampoo to remove dirt and grime.

Use Gentle Products: Stick to non-abrasive, gentle cleaning products to avoid damaging the film.

Avoid Wax: Most PPFs do not require waxing. Some waxes can leave a residue that dulls the film.

Inspect Periodically: Regularly check the film for any signs of damage or lifting edges. Addressing small issues early prevents bigger problems later.

Is Paint Protection Film Worth It?

In a word: Yes. PPF is an investment that pays off by keeping your car looking beautiful and protecting it from daily wear and tear. Whether you drive a luxury sports car, a classic beauty, or your daily commuter, PPF offers unmatched protection and peace of mind.

Final Thoughts

Paint Protection Film Cornelius is more than just a protective layer; it’s a commitment to maintaining your car’s beauty and value. By shielding your vehicle from physical and environmental hazards, PPF ensures that your car remains a source of pride and joy for years to come.

So, if you’re serious about preserving that showroom shine and protecting your investment, Paint Protection Film is the way to go. Drive confidently, knowing your car is shielded from whatever the road throws at it.