my name is ally ,great listener/advice giver , 22 yr old , true Gemini from Ohio, hufflepuff, enjoyer of amazingly written fan fic, fav color is flannel, chaotic neutral dumbass of randomness, no rp in asks or dms please,wiser beyond my years
â¤ď¸âđĽ = smut | Stories are Beau Arlen x Reader unless otherwise noted.
Over the Bridge - (Beau x Soulmate!Reader)
Your car is teetering on the edge of a rickety bridge. When Sheriff Beau Arlen arrives at the scene to help you, he realizes that for the first time in his life, he can hear his soulmateâs thoughts.
Connection - (Beau x Soulmate!Reader)
Beau saved you from your car nearly going over a rickety bridge, discovering he was your soulmate in the process. Now, the two of you enjoy a milestone date at the county fair.
⥠Sequel to Over the Bridge
Didn't Mean to Stay â¤ď¸âđĽ
After three months, you ask Beau to make it clear. Is he serious about this relationship, or are you two just passing time?
A Good Man Is Hard to Find â¤ď¸âđĽ
When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?
A Crime of Passion â¤ď¸âđĽ
When Beau Arlen decides to âmake it up to you,â heâs damn thorough.
S.I.N.G. â¤ď¸âđĽ
Beau wishes youâd take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.
Echoes
Beau has another rough night, but you help him face a harder truth.
Shades of Him
You make sure Beau isnât alone this Christmas.
Sleeper Deluxe
You and Beau face a daunting aspect of pre-parenthood.
Whiplash
Beau faces a reckoning. Youâre just trying to figure out if he needs medical attention.
Fated â¤ď¸âđĽ
When Beau had the bright idea of going undercover to observe a pair of questionable Alphas at a casino, he never expected to meet you, caught in the crossfire of an Omega human trafficking ring.
⥠Series in progress!
Take Me Home â¤ď¸âđĽ
You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. Youâre aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you both have a past youâre running from.
⥠Complete
Beau gives you the support you need. â¤ď¸âđĽđ
After getting home from a terrible day at work, Beau's able to lighten your mood.
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to seeing your breast reduction scars. â¤ď¸âđĽâ¤ď¸âđŠš
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would make up for pissing you off. đ¤
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you teasing him under the table. â¤ď¸âđĽđ
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you getting "morning" sickness during pregnancy. đ¤˘
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes. â¤ď¸âđĽđ
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor with his child. đź
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason Teague would react to you sleepwalking. đ´
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your surprise pregnancy. đ§
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.) đĄđ
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben), would react to your body insecurity. đ
Headcanon: What Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would order at a coffee shop. â
Headcanon: What pastry goodness Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would order along with their coffee shop coffee. đĽ â
Headcanon: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them? đ¤§
Headcanon: What Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw's ideal homes would be. đĄ
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react when you try to take him to the doctor. đŠş
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to the "hat on backward, hand on the wall" trend Uno-reversed on them. â¤ď¸âđĽđ¤
Headcanon: Who says "my wife" the most: Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), or Russell Shaw? đ¤
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum and Russell Shaw react to you cutting your hair short. đââď¸
Headcanon: HC grab bag with "the Big 5" â Dean Winchester (Comfortable Silence), Beau Arlen (Overprotective), Soldier Boy (Ben) (Physical Touch), Mark Meachum (Girl Dad), and Russell Shaw (Boyfriend Training) đ
Headcanon: What kind of pet would Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum, and Russell Shaw have? đž
Headcanon: Who's the most ticklish â Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum, or Russell Shaw? đ
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum, and Russell Shaw would react if you told him you "faked it" during sex. đ§
Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum, and Russell Shaw help you deal with grief and depression. â¤ď¸âđŠš
Headcanon: Cooking Hispanic/Latin food for Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum & Russell Shaw đśď¸
Headcanon: What part of your body he likes best â with Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum & Russell Shaw. đâ¤ď¸âđĽ
Headcanon: Who's the freakiest of them all (in bed)? With Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum & Russell Shaw. đśď¸â¤ď¸âđĽ
Headcanon: How he spoils you - with Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), Mark Meachum & Russell Shaw. đ
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Summary: When Beau had the bright idea of going undercover to observe a pair of questionable Alphas at a casino, he never expected to meet you, caught in the crossfire of a perilous operation.
Based on this @jacklesversebingo prompt: âIf I win this fight, your Omegas are mine.â
Author's Note: Ready for some more of our angsty, lovable sheriff â with an Alpha twist?
Series Tags & Warnings: (18+) | Omegaverse, angst, kidnapping, references to human trafficking and non-con (non-graphic, but read with caution), and death. But also the road to healing, recovery, emotional support, hurt/comfort, romance, protective Beau, love triangle, A/B/O dynamics, true mates, and smut | + other chapter-specific tagsÂ
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âžË Chapters:
đ¤ Part 1: Sting
đ¤ Part 2: Magnetism
đ¤ Part 3: Trust
đ¤ Part 4: Catharsis
đ¤ Part 5: Truth
đ¤ Part 6: Heat
đ¤ Part 7: Belonging
đ¤ Part 8: Conviction
⢠Series Complete
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Summary: When the reader is released from captivity by Homelander, she's reunited with a familiar face. Soldier Boy. Her childhood friend. Her true love. The loss of her life. The man she was taken from in 1957. Sixty eight years later and Soldier Boy is baffled not only by her being alive but her young age and apparent powers. Old memories resurface as the pair try to navigate what truly happened all those years ago. New fears emerge as they come to terms with who they now are in a frightening modern world. All the while, Homelander poses a looming threat to not only the two of them but the entire world. Hard truths must be faced. Lines must be drawn. Two fated souls must make an impossible choice. Run or fight. Monster or anti-hero. Soldier Boy or Ben. Alone or together, once and for all...
Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader
Word Count: ~80K
Warnings: spoilers through S4, language, violence, smut, captivity, mention of torture/miscarriage/parental abuse, supes vs. humans, death, illness, adultery, threats of violence against a child, attempted murder/murder, vigilantism, mention of drug use/drinking/WW2 violence and more
@luci-in-trenchcoats I just finished this absolutely amazing series cant wait to see were it goes next. My heart felt things I didn't know it could feel.
Set in a brothel in the late 1800's in a desolate desert town, you've only been working there for a month when Din Djarin shows up. A bounty hunter who makes his stops into town between jobs, he's known at the inn for his generous appetite and demanding preferences. Asking for you to be made available to him every time he's in town, neither one of you is ready for where this requests leads.
Rating: Explicit af - it's a brothel, friends đĽ°
A/N: This is a complete revision of the previous story I posted in 2020. The original story was the very first thing I ever wrote, and this revision is truly the labor of love it deserves. Nothing is going to be removed from the original story -- this is an expansion and improvement on the original, hopefully for the better. To everyone who has been here since the first chapter all the way to the new readers -- I hope you enjoy! â¤ď¸
--
The first time you see him in the brothel, you call dibs.
With your eyes fixed on the way his throat moves when he swallows his drink, the madam laughs.
âYouâre too sweet for that one. He needs more experienced girls.â
From across the room, the two of you size him up together â your face curious, hers more knowing.
âHeâs more generous than youâll ever meet when it comes to money,â she confides, leaning in close. âBut his appetite and size are also generous.â A lewd smirk graces her lips. âIâm not sure youâre ready.â
Giving her a skeptical glance, your eyes go back to the man. He pushes back from the worn bar top, tipping his head in a silent thanks to the bartender. Broad shoulders tightly encased in a worn but clean jacket, holsters slung low on his hips, trail dusted boots. Following his loose, confident gait up the stairs, you take in the way he moves with surety up the staircase, disappearing into a room.
âWait. What do you mean, âhis appetiteâ?â you question, turning back to the madam, but sheâs already gone, cooing over someone else playing cards nearby.Â
Giving one last glance at the door of the room he went into, you plaster on a smile and make your way towards the crowded tables.Â
--
The next time he comes into town, the madam tells him youâve been asking about him.
The settling of quarries, the payment of services, the collection of flyers among other useful pieces of information â heâs fresh from the sheriffâs office, his sparse patience running even thinner. His replies have become near one word responses while he drops a few coins towards the barkeep, in payment for a hot plate of whatever is available. Â
âIs that so,â he asks, tipping his hat in thanks when the plate is set in front of him. A glass of whiskey is poured next, followed by a tin cup of water.Â
âWell,â she asks, leaning on his shoulder. âWhat do you think of her?â
Spearing a bite of food, he chews while his dark eyes study you from across the bar. Chatting with another girl, your face breaks into a smile at something she says.Â
The madamâs head tilted in appraisal, her tone is thick with the sweetness of someone trying to sell their wares. âAll the men love how sweet she is.â
âSweet?â he questions, skeptical. Swallowing his whiskey in one go, he sets his glass down on the bar, giving her a side-long look. âI donât think sweet ââ
âOh, hush,â the madam replies, swatting his shoulder with a fan. âBesides, the girls you had last time moved on. Itâs been a while since youâve been around.â She nods in your direction. âGive her a try. I think you might like her.â
â
He has a routine, the madam tells you.Â
âAlways two girls, always a bath first.â Opening the door to your room, she strides in, gesturing to a table in the corner.Â
A girl of twelve scurries behind her, a maid. Placing clean towels down and laying a fresh bar of soap on top, she gets to work on filling the copper tub. The madam straightens the blanket on your bed, and you inwardly laugh. Like that thing stays straight.Â
âAlways the whole night, and the next day,â she continues.Â
âThe next day?â Gracie asks, her brows raised. âHe keeps going?â
You laugh at the impressed look on Gracieâs face, and she gives you a wink.
âMost men only get an hour,â she muses. âHe must be really generous if he gets the whole night.â
âThe next day isnât for him,â the madam replies. âItâs for you, so you can rest.â
Scooting the girl out of the room with an affectionate swat on her behind, your face sobers, and itâs Gracieâs turn to laugh.Â
âOh, please,â she rolls her eyes. âTheyâd all like to think themselves so good.â
The madam gives her a knowing look. âYouâll see.â She starts towards the door, then turns around. âHeâs one of our best customers. Make sure you give him what he wants.â With those final words, she shuts the door behind her.Â
You immediately turn to Gracie.
âThink we bit off more than we can chew?â you tease, trying to hide the sudden nerves in your stomach.Â
She waves your worries away. âWe would have heard about him sooner if he was a rough one.â
Thatâs true. There are rough ones, and they are well known among the girls.Â
One of the most popular girls since her start at the brothel, Gracie has been by your side since you started. Up for anything, she wasnât fool enough to think she had actual agency in this world, but the little she did have, she used to the full extent. She knew she could reduce these men to nothing with the roll of her hips on theirs, with the whisper of her sweet words â and so she did. She didnât take anything too seriously, and you loved her for it, especially in contrast to your natural inward nature.Â
âIâve only ever seen him that one other time,â you reply, testing the water with your hand. âHave you seen him before?â
âNo. I would have remembered one like that. He is a handsome thing,â she replies, fixing her hair in the mirror. âHeâs got tall, dark and mysterious written all over him. A bit dirty,â she shrugs, âbut do at least heâs asking for a bath. More than most before they crawl into bed.â
Scrunching your nose, you agree.Â
âIâm going to get ready,â she says. âGet him in the tub, and Iâll be back. Try not to have all the fun without me.â
Blowing you a kiss, she slips out of the room.Â
Without the distraction of others, you fuss with the tub until itâs filled with hot water, steam curling above the surface. Shampoo, pitcher, basin. Towel draped to the side, and a sack for him to put his clothes in. The inn ran a laundry service that overnight visitors took advantage of, and you werenât sure if he was the type to trust others with the clothes off his back, but you prepared for it just in case.Â
Everything ready, you slip into a silk shift that skims your curves, and try to recall the anticipation and bravery you felt when you called dibs. The warning the madam gave has rattled you, and you wish Gracie were here to help distract. Sheâd help you shake the nerves free, crack jokes to help clear the tension from the room.Â
Finding yourself fiddling with the edge of the blanket, you huff a laugh at yourself before a sharp knock has you straightening.Â
He enters, and your greeting is automatic.Â
âHey there,â you smile with practiced sweetness. âCome on in.â
He tips his head in acknowledgment, and all bravado you had when you called dibs disappears, slowly replaced with hesitation.Â
Heâs so much bigger in your small room than he seemed downstairs in the main room, especially with the door closed. So much more intimating, his silence making it even more so. The amount of weapons on him doesnât help. Hip holsters with two pistols, ammo slung low across his hips and attached to one of his boots.Â
He looks dangerous â until he lifts his hat from his head, uncovering rumpled, dark brown curls. Dirty from weeks in the saddle, the sight of them is surprisingly vulnerable and helps take the edge off his appearance. He looks softer with them, even while working his holster open next, placing the heavy weight of his guns over the back of your chair.Â
His silence is unusual. Most men are vocal, demanding, crass. They come in and take what they want, knowing full well they only have an hour to get it â though most of them only need about ten minutes. They are full of boasting pride, of rushed lust, or in the worst instances, poorly disguised condescension. They paid for the hour, which means they paid for you. It comes with a natural assumption that your body is theirs to do as they please, and it often brings loud-mouthed attitudes with it.
Piquing your interest, the man in front of you says nothing, continuing to get undressed.Â
Maybe he wants seduction. Come on, you scold yourself. Give him what he paid for.
You stand, the thin strap of your shift slipping down off your shoulder. âWant some help?â
Stepping closer, you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.Â
Itâs unforgiving, but not unkind. Bold, unashamed, assessing. His eyes are a deep brown, almost black in the dim, romantic light of your room. Fringed with thick lashes, creased at the edges from the sun, showing evidence of living life in the saddle. A strong nose, a pouty mouth, a dark mustache with scruff that covers his cheeks.Â
Handsome. Definitely handsome.Â
He continues to look, curious, with a slight lift of his chin like heâs testing you. A natural arrogance, you assume, from having to navigate the rough world outside. There is a thrum of tension between your bodies, one you donât usually feel with customers. Unsure if itâs his quiet confidence, or just his handsomeness youâre drawn to, you use it to bolster your own forwardness.Â
Standing on your toes and bracing yourself on his chest, you lean in, whispering just under his ear. âI heard you like to get cleanâŚso you can get me all dirty.â
Pulling back with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you let your touch slip down the front of his shirt. âThat true?âÂ
He waits a beat before answering, his darkening eyes rovering over your face as his expression relaxes slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting. Like youâve passed his own silent test.Â
âIt is,â he answers, in a rough baritone.Â
âWell then,â you reply. âLetâs get these clothes off.âÂ
Keeping your eyes on his, you start with his vest, working the buttons free one at a time.
â
He waits in the bath, watching as you undress. His arms stretch wide along the edge of the tub, his broad chest and shoulders taking up space. Admiring the quiet strength held in the way he holds himself, you smile at the naked hunger clear on his face as you climb into the tub, lowering yourself onto his lap.Â
âSo,â you make conversation, âWhat do you do?â
âIâm a bounty hunter.â
Your eyebrows raise. âSounds dangerous.â
âFor some.â The reply reeks of confidence, of the implication that he isnât one of the people heâs referring to. Relaxing, he sinks lower into the tub, closing his eyes.Â
âHow long has it been since youâve had a bath?â
A low sigh of relief slips out of him, his voice low. âToo long.â
Lathering the soap, you start with his hand, slipping your fingers between his. You work each finger, comparing the size of your reach against his. His palms are rough and calloused, worn from handling rope. Massaging as you go, you work your way up â over his thick forearms, up along the muscles in his arms. Your fingers dig into the firm rounds of his shoulders, and he lets out a grunt of appreciation.Â
Sneaking a peek at his face, youâre startled to find him openly looking back at you. His dark eyes rake over your face and shoulders, dipping low and sweeping back up. His expressions â lust, blended with curiosity â aren't guarded at all, like heâs not used to hiding them, and you suppose his job has made him this way. The sensation is unfamiliar, and unmooring. Most donât care enough to look as much as he has. None have ever studied you the way he has, thatâs certain.
You swallow, reaching for the soap again.Â
âIâm not going to hurt you.â
The bar in your hands, his blunt words make you look up, meeting his eyes. He is earnest, sincere. His statements have been blunt and to the point since heâs walked into the room, with right now being no exception. And somehow, that lets you know heâs telling the truth.Â
Your own practiced expression slips before you can catch it, open vulnerability displayed on your face before you quickly reel it back in.Â
âI know,â you reply, though you donât â and he knows it.Â
His head tilts to the side, waiting. Patient, letting you come to your own decision. After a beat, you dip your chin in acknowledgement.Â
Confirmation at your reassurance, he closes his eyes and leans back, letting you continue.Â
The tension broken, you resume. The quiet makes the situation seem so much more intimate than usual; the trickling of water, the soft sweep of your touch over his skin. Your thumbs work the base of his throat, your palms sliding over his firm chest. The sparse collection of hair along his sternum catches suds, and you soap under his arms, and along his ribs; his body releasing tension with every smooth glide of your hands.Â
You can feel him harden underneath you, but he does absolutely nothing about itâŚand for some reason, that makes you relax around him even more. You can feel the evidence of how much he wants it, have heard from the madam how demanding he can beâŚbut yet he waits, savoring this part. You suppose weeks without a bath will do that to a person, and youâre determined to reward him for the wait.Â
Pouring shampoo into your palm, you lean forward to start on his hair. Pressing your bare front against his own, the sensation gives you your first real reaction since heâs entered the room â a low hum of appreciation, deep from within his chest. Lifting the corner of your mouth with a smile, you become bolder, and let yourself slide down, dragging the pressed weight of your slick breasts over his skin.Â
He lets out a shaky breath, and dropping his hands from the edges of the tub, they find the meat of your hips under the water with a squeeze. Lifting onto your knees, you lean your weight into him again, lining your front with his. Breast to chest, stomach to stomach, hip to hip â the sensation of his firm, warm, wet skin pressed against your own has you distracted for a moment before you slide your fingers up through the curls at his nape, working the shampoo into his hair. Your nails drag across his scalp, your fingers twist in his curls, and he simultaneously melts underneath your touch while tightly bundled tension rises between you.Â
âFeel good?â
âYes.â His answer is immediate, low with desire. His hands squeeze your hips, hard, and he kneads your skin under the surface, his touch becoming bolder. Stretching his arms to reach your ass, he grabs greedy palmfuls, tugging you against his lap.Â
The warm weight of desire fills the cradle of your hips, and reaching for a jug to rinse the shampoo from his hair, you yelp when he surprises you by gripping your waist to hold you in place and sliding down to submerge himself underwater. Suds float to the surface as he quickly scrubs the soap from his hair, and when he sits back up, youâre laughing â a sound that brings the first smile youâve seen on his face. Itâs quick, yet no less devastating, with two deep dimples in his cheeks that make you want to press your thumbs into the divots.Â
A smile that makes you want to kiss him.Â
Wiping the water from his face with a broad sweep of his palm, he slicks his dark strands off his face and the effect is startling. Still handsome â so handsome â but the vulnerability of the rumpled curls is gone, replaced with dominance. The hunger in his hooded eyes darkens, and feeding off the tension gathering between your bodies and greedy for another groan or smile, you grab the soap.Â
Arching your back, you put on a show as you reach behind and slide your soapy touch up the length of his legs. Over his shins, behind his knees, up the top of his thighs. Stopping short right before his groin, you straighten again and reach the soap, but he plucks it from your hands.Â
âHey!â you protest, biting a grin.Â
Keeping his eyes on your face, you watch as he slowly lathers it between his large hands and lets it drop into the water before splaying his hand across your sternum. Whether itâs the hold itself or the way heâs looking at you, you sense the shift of power in the small space as it transfers to him. Sliding his hand to the side with an appreciative hum, he palms your breasts, covering them with soap. He cups the weight of them, smearing his thumbs over your nipples with a slippery glide until they pucker under the suds, teasing them with exploring, needy touches that have you arching your back, leaning into his touch.Â
Desire trickles down from the tight peaks along your spine, settling between your hips. Slick and warm, you begin a slow roll over his lap and dip your hand beneath the water in search of his cock. When you find it with a firm grip, he sucks in a sharp breath.Â
âYou ready to get out yet?â you breathe, your hand stroking him root to tip. Heâs thick, a heft to his cock that is more than most and your cunt clenches with anticipation. The space between you is filled with steam, with the slick warmth of the water, with the weighty charge of electricity. He swallows hard, the bob of his tanned throat calling for your lips and leaning forward, you press your mouth to his skin. Warm and wet and fragrant under the press of your mouth, you open up wider, your tongue slipping out for a taste.
The sound he lets out is delicious.
A rough scrape of need, a low growl as his touch grows needier, his hands scooping up your breasts with a squeeze. The soap aids in a slide of his touch down to your hip, his other hand curling around the nape of your neck as he guides you back, and your neglected chest heaves; your hand still working under the water.Â
You want him. A rare feeling with clients, always fleeting on the rare occasion it happens, you can taste the edge of your arousal, the spark of it burning bright. Heâs handsome, but there is also something about his patience and his attentiveness that has you feeling more comfortable than you have in ages. Usually, at this point, youâd be faking your interest just to get the hour over with. Right now, youâre surprised by how much you want it.Â
âYou just gonna stare at my mouth, or ââ Your words cut off with a gasp when he drags his thumb over your bottom lip, your question finishing in a whisper. âOr are you gonna kiss me?âÂ
Pulling you in, he does. Fuck, he does.Â
The first press of your mouths together is sure and firm, his need leading your mouth. He tastes you like heâs been dying for it, like youâre an oasis in the middle of the desert. Fitting your mouth against his, he devours the whimper that you let out, drinking it down. His hands splay in their hold around your waist, sliding up over the smooth skin of your back and abandoning his cock to scoot closer, you wind your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.Â
Grinding down against his lap, the steamed air above the bath fills with the sound of ragged breath, of low groans, of the gentle lap of water as your mouths taste and part, only to seal again. He meets your need with his own â savoring, full sweeps of his tongue over yours, kisses that are lazy until theyâre not. Breaking the kiss to taste your neck, his teeth scrape over the delicate skin before he sucks, groaning against your throat. His tongue smears over your skin, and you reach for the soap, wrapping your arms around him to wash his back.Â
âStop, he groans, his lips brushing against your skin, and you pause. Â
âYou donât want me to wash you?â
He growls low in his throat, cupping your jaw with his hand. He slides his thumb over your lips again, pushing against their plush softness and when you suck on the pad, his eyes fixate on the sight. He shakes his head slowly, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip.Â
âI want you to get on that bed, girl.â
Girl.Â
The word should be demeaning, but itâs not. It slips through your torso, shivers along your spine, the weight of it curling low between your hips. The word is like the man â forcing you to yield. Heâs been lying in wait this whole time, letting you believe you have the advantage until you get comfortable, letting you come to himâŚjust like you assume he does with his quarries. You fell for the trap, and you donât even care.Â
Scrambling out of the tub, he follows you â and thatâs when Gracie walks in.Â
âOh,â she breathes, openly appreciating the size and breadth of his nude body. Her eyes drag down and back up again, a pleased smile playing at the edge of her lips. âArenât you a sight.â
He jerks his head towards the bed. âGet in here.â
âWhose in charge here, mister?â she teases, and he replies without hesitation.Â
âI am.âÂ
âYes, sir,â she coos with a little shimmy, shutting the door behind her.Â
â
That night, you learned who he was.Â
Not only his name â Din Djarin â which was exchanged in the middle of the night, with your body draped over his, but who he was, as a man. Blunt, straight forward, used to being in charge. Your bodies sore, spent and sated â he had spent hours putting you through your paces, and your eyelids were as heavy as your limbs as you relaxed into the warmth his bare skin radiated.Â
Gracie curled into his other side, the reasoning behind two women became evident after that first night: he was touch-starved, with the desire to be immersed in skin to skin, buried underneath someone or within them. Two women at once allowed him this luxury, while also providing him ample resources to expend his excess...energy.Â
You also learned that he seemed to care about your pleasure. Needed it, in fact. Demanded it from you, pulled it from your body even when you thought you couldnât give him any more. He pushed and pushed and pushed you, and that night, you understood the madam's earlier comments.Â
He didnât seem satisfied until you were just as wrung out as he was, and afterwards, he left you sated and sore, thoroughly used â and thoroughly asleep.Â
He had spoken to the madam before he left the next morning.Â
âI always want that one. Make sure of it.â
â
Since that first night, heâs shown up a few times.Â
Always weeks apart: saddle weary and dusty, worn around the edges and ready for a softness that only you could provide.Â
Tonight, when he gets to your room, youâre already in the bath with Gracie perched on the side, soap and rag in hand. You take turns with him: you, washing his body from your seat on his lap, Gracie leaning over to offer her mouth. His kisses are demanding and deep, his hands reaching to hold her in place while his mouth tastes everything she gifts him. When you interrupt to wash his hair, he shifts to you, cupping your breasts to latch that same hungry mouth onto the peaks. The swirl of his skillful tongue is distracting, decadent, and a hum pours from your throat when his nose brushes along the length of your neck, his mouth sampling the hollow under your ear. His hand travels down your back and over your hip, his thick fingers pressing between your legs.Â
âIâve been dreaming of that cunt of yours,â he confesses, his voice like gravel. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, his middle fingers parting you under the water, sliding through the slick wetness heâs pulled from you already. âLet me taste it.âÂ
It doesnât take long until he stands, pulling you from the water and guiding you backwards onto your bed with a push.Â
âYouâre going to get my bed all wet â oh my god,â you moan, arching into the wet heat of his mouth. From the bath to his knees, heâs found his way between your thighs with a rough jerk of your body to the edge of the mattress. His shoulders spread you wide, his mouth devouring your cunt in a wet, decadent kiss. Gripping behind your knee, he shoves it up to open you up wider, and his tongue smears and licks across your spread center as he groans, savoring the taste.
Kneeling on the floor next to him, Gracie wraps her hand around his thick cock with a stroke, an action that has him pressing his face closer. Heâs messy, open mouthed and hungry, like heâs starved for it and you roll your hips against his greedy mouth, losing yourself in the sensation.
She strokes him harder, faster and breaking his kiss to your cunt, he circles the nape of her neck, tugging her in for a kiss. You watch, his glistening mouth meeting hers, his other hand still splayed with a grip on the inside of your thigh to hold you in place. Slipping your fingers down across your soft belly, you find your clit and swirl a practiced circle over it â until his hand swats yours away.Â
âItâs mine,â he orders. âThat cunt belongs to me.â
âThen take care of it like itâs yours,â you challenge. Your tone is sweet and soft, but the lift of your chin tells him itâs an order.
He likes the way you push against him, youâve come to find out. His need to make you submit is only satisfying if you push back, if you play at fighting against it. It needs to feel hard won for him, but not in a way most men like to win. Not with harsh, demeaning words and cruel orders. No â he needs to overpower with pleasure, needs to make you succumb because you canât fight it anymore. Begging, pulling against restraints, pushing against the weight of his body as he forces you to take it â those are the ways he likes it.Â
Giving you a look that pins you in place, he spreads you wide as his hands grip and pinch. He bends, his mouth sucking and biting at the soft skin of your thighs, soothing it with wide sweeps of his tongue. Your head tips back, a moan pouring out of your throat towards the ceiling and you feel the bed dip beside you as Gracie crawls onto it. Reaching over to you, she tips your chin towards her and pulls you in for a kiss.Â
Sheâs so much softer than the man at your feet: her lips lush and pliant, her breath sweet. Her hand cups your breast with a gentle squeeze, toying with the peak while taut pleasure fills the cradle of your hips. His eyes on your face, you can feel his possessiveness in the way his mouth devours, and the combination of her sweetness mixed with his intensity pushes you closer and closer to the edge. The attention is all consuming, your thighs trembling with the release heâs building deep inside you. Breaking away from Gracie, you beg him for relief.Â
âFuck â Din,â you moan, threading your fingers through his dark curls with a tug. Letting yourself drop back into the plush mattress, you reach for Gracie as he moans into your spread cunt, and she holds your hand while your back arches, your heels digging into the firm muscles of his back. âIâm â youâre going to make me cum.â
Your voice breaks when you do, a bright wave of taut warmth spreading from your core outwards. He licks you through it, sliding his tongue through the gush of wetness, focusing his efforts on your swollen clit. Your hips jerk and you whimper, a sound Gracie hushes with another kiss.Â
Focused on her and still floating, you donât notice heâs stood up until you feel his sure hold slide up over the top of your shins, guiding your knees back against your chest. He steps forward, and you can feel the thickness of his cock pressing against the slick dip of your entrance.Â
âYou ready, girl?â he asks, grinding his hips into you. His breathing is ragged, pent up, his chin glistening and wet.Â
You can feel how soaked you are, his movement smearing your wetness into the curls at his base, over his thick shaft. He positions the weighty, blunt tip of his cock in place, groaning when he feels you clench against it. When he breaks you open, your lips catch against Gracieâs, your hot whine fanning over her mouth.Â
Heâs so much â so filling, so thick, the slide inside so satisfying it makes you want to cry. He reaches further than most, pushing forward with a grind and though Gracie has your mouth, he leans to focus your attention on him. Pulling out and sliding back in with a firm roll of his hips, he breaks your kiss with a grip of your chin, forcing you to look at him.Â
âLook at me,â he commands, another slide out, another grind in. Another, another. Trying to match your rhythm with his, you canât move your hips with how he has them pinned in place, forcing you to take it.Â
âSo â,â he hisses, pulling out to slide back in, âSo fucking wet. So tight,â he groans, picking up pace. You bounce lightly with the motion; the muscles along his ribs rippling with the action. âGracie, look at her gorgeous tits. They look neglected to me.â
The smile she gives him is affectionate and sweet, though the situation is anything but. Crawling to you, she bends and licks a wide stripe up the soft underside of your breast, before giving it a lingering kiss.Â
âDin â,â you beg, arching into her wet mouth. Heâs already building something low in your tummy, ratcheting it higher with every thrust of his hips, even higher with the unrelenting grip heâs using to pin you in place. Â
Gracie switches breasts with a wet path from one to the other, nibbling at the stiff peak of your nipple. The two of them work in tandem: her sweet mouth with his unrelenting pace, her softness paired with his strength.Â
She pulls back and Din bends forward just enough to give you a rough, hungry kiss, one that has your knees pressing into your chest and then heâs fucking down into you, his hips pounding into your ass, your mouths hovering over each others as you drink down his panting, ragged breaths âÂ
âGracie,â he tells her, a soft grunt between each word, âShow me your fingers. Thatâs right,â he praises her, as she dips them inside herself with a sigh. âGet yourself nice and wet for me â youâre next.â
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Gracie rolling her hips against her hand, her soft thighs spread wide, the silk nighty sheâs wearing twisted around her torso while her eyes glaze over watching him fuck you.
You whine underneath him, earning yourself a quick, breathless kiss. âYou can take it, girl. I know you can.â He gives a couple of particularly rough thrusts, groaning over your higher moan. âGo ahead, girl. Tell her how good it feels. Tell her ââ
Before he can get the words out, you pull his head down to seal his mouth with yours, breaking again underneath him with a hoarse moan. Stronger and more intense than the last one, your cunt squeezes him so hard you feel him stutter a grunt against your mouth, trapped in place. Everything is so wet: your sore cunt, his lap, the sweat that clings to his lower back and along your hairline, the kiss you share with him, as you come down from your peak.Â
Pausing to let you catch your breath, heâs tender with his touches, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face. âYou did so good for me girl. So good,â he murmurs between kisses. Giving a final caress to your cheek, he gently eases himself out of you. âYou stay there and rest â itâs Gracie's turn.â
So tender and soothing with you, his rigid cock betrays his yet unsatisfied need as he shifts his focus to her. She looks delighted at the sight â a desperate Din, his muscles rigid with tension, his stomach taut with effort. Limp and pliant, you lay still while he gently eases your thighs open with a sweep of his hands to look at your cunt. His expression clearly torn between tasting the sticky, slick mess youâve made for him and leaving you be, he wets his bottom lip, before sliding two fingers through the mess, feeding it to Gracie.Â
Radiating dominance and tightly wound need, he watches as she sucks on his fingers like itâs nourishment, scrambling up on her knees to pull him towards her. He jerks the neckline of her nighty down, palming her bare breasts with a squeeze and her hand reaches for his cock, eager for him to fill her. Pushing her backwards, the bed bounces with the weight of their bodies falling together and bracing himself on his forearm, he reaches down to slide into her in one, brutal stroke. One hand fisting into the bedding over her head and the other roughly massaging her breast, the flesh of it spills out between his fingers as he pounds into her, needing to be rough.Â
Itâs a lot, even for her â but you can tell she loves it. Worked up and waiting for her turn, her fingers dig into his ass, pulling him into her as her hips grind against his. Reaching for her wrist and pinning it into the mattress above her head, he presses his weight into the hold while his hips shove into hers, over and over.Â
Everything about the way he fucks is so filthy and base. Almost feral, frantic with need. He demands so much from both of you, but also of himself. Edging himself until heâs exhausted. Seeing just how long he can go and how many times he can make you come before he allows himself the same pleasure.Â
âWhat do you think, girl?,â he asks, looking over at you. âCan she take it?âÂ
Gracie moans loudly at a particularly rough thrust and he turns back to her, clamping his hand tight over her mouth while continuing to push her further. Her dazed eyes widen above his broad hand before rolling back, her brow bunching when they slide shut.Â
Pressing a kiss over the top of his hand where her lips would be, he shushes her. âShhh. Itâs okay, filthy girl. I thought ââ he groans, â â I thought about making a mess of your pretty little cunt, but I â fuck â I think I want it in your mouth instead.â
At this, Gracie comes â her legs squeezing tight around his waist, her whines still muffled by his palm as her body arches underneath him. Digging her fingers into his bicep, he holds himself still as she sobs underneath him, trembling with her release.Â
At the edge himself, he pulls out of her and quickly climbs up over her body, he pinching her cheeks together until her mouth opens up. Fisting his cock with an audible stroke, he rests the tip between her lips and cums, hard.Â
There is so much of it. Coating her lips and tongue, his release pours into her mouth, dripping down her chin. She sits up, eager for more, swallowing him deeper and he hisses, his hips jerking forward to chase the wet heat. She looks up at him with a warmth of adoration, eager for praise, as his hands cradle her jaw while his hips roll lazily against her mouth. Staying there until heâs too sensitive, he slips out and slumps forward, catching himself on the bedframe.Â
âFuck me,â he pants, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbing away. Sluggish, he moves like heâs drugged and the two of you shift on the bed to make room for him. Him in the middle, he gathers you into his arms, while reaching back to ensure Gracie is tucked tight behind him.Â
The first time he held you in his arms, you fell asleep immediately, exhausted from all he demanded from you. He slept like the dead as well, finally being able to let his guard down. Tonight, you resist the urge to close your eyes, savoring the warm weight of his arm curled around your waist, and the firm, solid tuck of his body behind yours. Delicately tracing his knuckles, you think about how no other man has ever held you like this. So used to them taking what they want and then leaving, you know you shouldn't get too attached or read too much into itâŚbut itâs nice, the weight and comfort of his warmth.Â
In the small hours of the morning, you wake to the sensation of his nose gliding up the nape of your neck, his lips peppering kisses along the top of your spine. The room is dark, before dawn, and rolling over to face him, you see Gracie curled up behind him, dead to the world.Â
Heâs achingly soft with his handling of you: sweeps of his palms over your soft skin, kisses that have you aching for more. Itâs hard to see him in the darkness of the room, but that only makes every sensation more heightened. You focus on other senses: his low, rumbling hums, the heat of his skin, the taste of his mouth. His hand teases down the slope of your body, finding a home between your legs. Cupping your cunt, he preps you to take him again.Â
Swirls over your clit, fingers slipping inside to draw out slick wetness. Bringing the digits to his mouth, he coats them thoroughly with his saliva before bringing them back down to your cunt, easing them into you.Â
Half awake, everything feels like a dream, saturated with sensation. The weight of his body on yours, the filling push of him inside. His warm breath ghosting over your skin, the press of his mouth along your jaw.Â
âYouâre such a good girl,â he murmurs, his forehead sliding against the soft skin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your skin. âYou always take me so well. You make me feel so good.â
Your fingers thread through his curls, guiding his mouth to yours for a kiss. Deep, just like his achingly slow thrusts inside of you. Deep, like the aching feeling in your chest at his tenderness.Â
Swallowing your moans, he breaks the seal of your mouths just long enough to make whispered promises in the dark: that heâs going to come back in a month, that some day heâs going to settle down in this town. That someday, heâs going to build a house and take you home with him, just to keep you all to himself.
At the last promise, you let out a quiet laugh, tipping your head back into the pillow as he runs the bridge of his nose against your throat, nuzzling the soft skin.Â
âThey all say that,â you tease.Â
You feel him smile. âYeah, youâre right.â
Knowing that heâs going to have to leave soon, you shift your focus on giving him everything he asks for â your legs hitching high on his hips, your thighs squeezing him tight as he rocks into you, deeper, harder. With every grinding slide, he makes you repeat his words back to him, each statement sounding needier than the last:Â
No one fucks me like you do.Â
I canât think about anything else when youâre deep inside me.Â
Iâm your girl. Only your girl.Â
When you both come, he rests his head on your chest for a while, listening to the rapid thrumming of your heart as you stroke his soft hair away from his temple. The sun begins its ascent outside, the room slowly becoming hazy with dawn.Â
With one last kiss for you, and a kiss placed on Gracieâs temple, he pulls himself from the bed.Â
You watch as he searches for his clothes, his belt, his boots.Â
Your eyes sliding shut, you listen to him slip from the room, shutting the door with a soft click as you roll over into Gracieâs warm heat and go back to sleep.
@frannyzooey somehow made this better than the first time, and that was a 10/10. I will never shut up about this fic. AU Cowboy Bounty Hunter Din is my dream.
âDaddy is backâ made my fucking day đđđđ
I missed him so much â writing this brought me so much joy, and I am so, so happy that you liked it!!! My literal dream đ
Iâm so grateful for you sticking around this whole time, and beyond thankful to you for reading. I canât wait to share the rest with you â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Summary: The reader is pulled over on the side of the road when a man suddenly appears and proceeds to collapse in front of her. Little does she know, that may be a good thing for them bothâŚ
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader
Word Count: 19K
Warnings: language, life-threatening illness, implied past sexual harassment/assault
A/N: This series deals with some heavy topics and the looming threat of death so please read at your discretion.Â
Summary: The reader is hired as Jensenâs new nanny to help take care of the kids after a deadly accident. Heâs friendly and kind, something the reader isnât used to from her employers, and the pair become friends. But friendship can quickly turn into something else and for a recent widow that hides his problems and a reader with a complicated past, something else is exactly what they both need in their lives againâŚ
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Word Count: 135K
Warnings: language, car accidents, age gaps, mentions of injury/death of a spouse/death of a parent/depression/anxiety/past child abuse/past sexual assault (not graphic), mild violence, self-worth issues, smut and smut related topics, loads of fluffy moments
A/N #1: This series is complete! Also, this series is absolutely no hate towards Danneel. Iâve never seen if from you guys but a quick reminder wife-hate isnât welcome here.
A/N #2: Iâve been working on this for months and this is my longest single fic to date. Iâm extremely pleased with how itâs turned out!
Summary: When the reader is released from captivity by Homelander, she's reunited with a familiar face. Soldier Boy. Her childhood friend. Her true love. The loss of her life. The man she was taken from in 1957. Sixty eight years later and Soldier Boy is baffled not only by her being alive but her young age and apparent powers. Old memories resurface as the pair try to navigate what truly happened all those years ago. New fears emerge as they come to terms with who they now are in a frightening modern world. All the while, Homelander poses a looming threat to not only the two of them but the entire world. Hard truths must be faced. Lines must be drawn. Two fated souls must make an impossible choice. Run or fight. Monster or anti-hero. Soldier Boy or Ben. Alone or together, once and for all...
Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader
Word Count: ~80K
Warnings: spoilers through S4, language, violence, smut, captivity, mention of torture/miscarriage/parental abuse, supes vs. humans, death, illness, adultery, threats of violence against a child, attempted murder/murder, vigilantism, mention of drug use/drinking/WW2 violence and more
A/N: It's finally here! I am so excited to finally be sharing this one! This is something completely different for me to tackle a romance of this size that takes place in two different decades. There's a lot of surprises to come and mystery to unfold as we go on this journey. I really hope you guys have as much fun with this one as I have writing it!
Part 1 - The Loss Of My Life
Part 2 - The FiancĂŠ Problem
Part 3 - Rekindled
Part 4 - The Talk
Part 5 - Don't Go Supernova On Me
Part 6 - Wanna Do Bad Things With You
Part 7 - Home
Part 8 - It Was Legendary
Part 9 - The Champagne Room
Part 10 - Take A Risk
Part 11 - Mabel
Part 12 - Of Life & Death
Part 13 - The Final Straw
Part 14 - Of Monsters & Men
Part 15 - The Beginning Of The End
Part 16 - Searching For Redemption
Part 17 - December 12, 2957
Part 18 - A Soul Worth Saving
Part 19 - Someday You Will Find Me
Part 20 - [redacted]
Ao3: Parts 1-20 - Completed series here!
A/N: All parts are available to read on Ao3. Parts will be making their way onto tumblr!
Warnings: angst, language, sad reader, unrequited love, cheating, Bucky is a douche, shy reader/soft reader, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, a hint of fluff
Divider by @firefly-in-darknessâ
Part 1/3
112 days ago, you met the man changing your life. He came into your life and swept you off of your feet. James, or Bucky as he wants you to call him was so different from any other man you met before him.
He didnât give a shit on anything but you, and to be honest, you liked that very much. Bucky Barnes is a dangerous man, breathing authority and a strong man keeping you safe.
Summary: New to town, a goody two-shoes, you catch the attention of not one but two guys. Too bad they are the âbad boysâ and your âdadâ tries to protect you.
Pairing: Biker!Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader x Biker!Alpha!Steve
Warnings: A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, angst, language, protective Tony, scenting, true mates, polyamory, violence, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, claiming, fights, blood, characters death, crimes, more to be added
A/N: Reader is Tony Starks goddaughter. This is an AU/A/B/O setting. I have a thing for Biker!Bucky/Steve so bear with me.
Moths to the flame. Most women are drawn to Ari Levinson like moths to the flame. Heâs used to women being all over him. His aura and the way he carries himself just do it for most of the women he meets.
Just not tonight. He tried to get the attention of a woman he saw the moment she stepped into his world but got turned down. It was a first. Not once did a woman turn Ari Levinson down.
Ari was interested from the start. He watched you and your best friend, Alana, walk toward the barkeeper, his eyes roaming your body.
You didnât know it was the owner of the nightclub who was inviting you. He didnât ask himself. No, Ari sent one of his men, and you immediately said no.
If a man canât even ask you to join him for a drink himself, he doesnât care about you. You want a man who sweeps you off your feet and puts effort into winning you over.
âDo you want me to try again?â The manager of Ariâs club asked. âMaybe if I mention your name, sheâll agree.â
Ari shook his head slightly, an amused smirk crossing his lips for a second. âNo,â he replied, his voice low and commanding. Ari never has to tell anyone anything twice. âIf sheâs not interested in meeting me, let it go.â
Across the room, you were completely oblivious to the predatory look on Ariâs face. He hadnât given up on getting you in his clutches yet. You laughed at something Alana said and ignored the music, the bodies dancing on the floor, and the hungry gazes of men walking past you and your friend.
Alana looked Ariâs way, her forehead wrinkled. âI think that guy is staring your way, babe,â she hushed, but Ari knew what she said because you turned your head to look at Ari. Your breath caught in your throat, and heat shot to your cheeks. This man was unlike any other guy you had met.
âI guess thatâs the guy sending his buddy over to buy me a drink,â you said while your gaze met Ariâs for the first time. He raised his glass, putting on a show only for you as his lips met the glass. You wished it were your lips, but you couldnât admit it in front of your friend. âIf he canât approach me himself, heâs not worth my time.â
Ari watched you with amusement. He saw a flicker of interest on your faceâonly for a moment, but it was there. His lips curved into a cocky grin, and he threw the glass over his shoulder, ignoring the gasps from the guests in the VIP area.
People stepped out of his way when he slowly stalked toward you and your friend. Alana was busy chatting with Sean, a guy you met at the club, as Ari approached you.
âHi,â Ari casually said, his voice deep and rough. âPlease excuse my shy approach earlier. Iâd like to buy you both a drink.â Â Â
You glanced at your Alana, then back at Ari. She was busy getting closer to Sean, so it wouldnât hurt to get to know the stranger in front of you.
âThatâs more like it,â you said, looking him straight in the eyes. âI donât like men who send their buddies to ask me on a date.â
Ari laughed at your boldness. âA date, huh?â He held out his hand, saying his name in a low murmur. âHow about you and your friends join me in the VIP area?â
âIâm good here.â You didnât want to make things too easy for Ari. âBut you are welcome to stay and pay for my drink. You took his hand and told Ari your name. âIf you play your cards right, you can moan it one dayâŚâ
Once a little boy went to school.
One morning
The teacher said:
âToday we are going to make a picture.â
âGood!â thought the little boy.
He liked to make all kinds;
Lions and tigers,
Chickens and cows,
Trains and boats;
And he took out his box of crayons
And began to draw.
But the teacher said, âWait!â
âIt is not time to begin!â
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
âNow,â said the teacher,
âWe are going to make flowers.â
âGood!â thought the little boy,
He liked to make beautiful ones
With his pink and orange and blue crayons.
But the teacher said âWait!â
âAnd I will show you how.â
And it was red, with a green stem.
âThere,â said the teacher,
âNow you may begin.â
The little boy looked at his teacherâs flower
Then he looked at his own flower.
He liked his flower better than the teacherâs
But he did not say this.
He just turned his paper over,
And made a flower like the teacherâs.
It was red, with a green stem.
On another day
The teacher said:
âToday we are going to make something with clay.â
âGood!â thought the little boy;
He liked clay.
He could make all kinds of things with clay:
Snakes and snowmen,
Elephants and mice,
Cars and trucks
And he began to pull and pinch
His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, âWait!â
âIt is not time to begin!â
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
âNow,â said the teacher,
âWe are going to make a dish.â
âGood!â thought the little boy,
He liked to make dishes.
And he began to make some
That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said âWait!â
âAnd I will show you how.â
And she showed everyone how to make
One deep dish.
âThere,â said the teacher,
âNow you may begin.â
The little boy looked at the teacherâs dish;
Then he looked at his own.
He liked his better than the teacherâs
But he did not say this.
He just rolled his clay into a big ball again
And made a dish like the teacherâs.
It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon
The little boy learned to wait,
And to watch
And to make things just like the teacher.
And pretty soon
He didnât make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened
That the little boy and his family
Moved to another house,
In another city,
And the little boy
Had to go to another school.
The teacher said:
âToday we are going to make a picture.â
âGood!â thought the little boy.
And he waited for the teacher
To tell what to do.
But the teacher didnât say anything.
She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy
She asked, âDonât you want to make a picture?â
âYes,â said the little boy.
âWhat are we going to make?â
âI donât know until you make it,â said the teacher.
âHow shall I make it?â asked the little boy.
âWhy, anyway you like,â said the teacher.
âAnd any color?â asked the little boy.
âAny color,â said the teacher.
And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think itâs pretentious or melodramatic when itâs seriously real as fuck and Iâve witnessed it
Warnings: mentions of a surrogate, fertility treatment/in vitro fertilization, a hint of gray Stucky, bisexual Steve/Bucky, smut in future chapters, breeding kink, pregnancy
Surrogate per accident (1)
Surrogate per accident (2)
Surrogate per accident (3)
Surrogate per accident (4)
TBA
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