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heartsofminds · 1 year ago

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my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.”

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have.

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him.

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing.

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be.

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?”

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.”

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used.

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.”

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan.

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving.

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options.

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more.

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time.

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt.

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is.

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman.

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop.

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him.

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.”

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs.

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed.

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that?

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy.

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once.

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.”

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go.

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason.

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans.

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.”

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.”

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.”

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her.

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him.

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.”

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year.

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry.

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl.

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort.

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.”

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.”

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks.

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures.

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be.

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid).

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox.

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms.

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?”

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears.

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair.

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs.

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?”

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick.

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?”

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween.

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.”

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated.

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is.

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest.

God, this girl is so dramatic.

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness.

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.”

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can.

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why.

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.”

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby.

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.”

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him.

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.”

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return.

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.”

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up.

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.”

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle.

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends.

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him.

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue.

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them.

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion.

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?”

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.”

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?”

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!”

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.”

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –”

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend.

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar.

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up.

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew.

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face.

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there.

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice.

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight.

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed.

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night.

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello.

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume.

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley.

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak.

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?”

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween.

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy.

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet.

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.”

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows.

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm.

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!”

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize.

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically.

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.”

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head.

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in.

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley.

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened.

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles.

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her.

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.”

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.”

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in.

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead.

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway.

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses.

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips.

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.”

“She’s what?”

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!”

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately.

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him.

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex.

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding.

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad.

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position.

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder.

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.”

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now?

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.”

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?”

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for.

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him.

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself.

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.”

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand.

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father.

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be.

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her.

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.”

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews.

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby?

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest.

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor.

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017).

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob.

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week).

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores.

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention.

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?”

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you.

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there.

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that.

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language.

Fuck. Why do I always do this?

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in.

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend.

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces.

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind.

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.”

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –”

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off.

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you?

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use.

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –”

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.”

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you?

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.”

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you?

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table.

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.”

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?”

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble.

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you.

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it.

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend.

Some things just aren’t meant to be.

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha.

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,” Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth.

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth.

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks.

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?”

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry.

“You what?”

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.”

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?”

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron.

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him.

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?”

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact.

“You did what?”

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.””

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say.

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.”

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it.

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all.

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person.

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain.

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago.

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how.

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.”

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you.

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nastyaromatherapy · 1 year ago

Text

Footlong (18+)

Ethan, a boy you bullied in highschool, sees you at a frat party and is hungry for revenge.

saw (this fic) and was like damn, i need an extended version of this.

pairing - dom!ethan landry x bully!reader

one shot length, 1.9k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, creampie, mentions of sh, degradation, tara reader and quinn are all bitches, big dick ethan

“Ethan? Please. I bet he’s never even held hands with a girl.” You quipped to Tara when his name aroused in a game of Fuck Marry Kill. Quinn quickly disagreed, “I bet- No, I know he’s packing. Haven’t you seen the outline in his khakis?” You internally bleh-ed at her wandering eyes. “Quinn, you fucking horndog,” you joked, leaning back in your chair and contemplating the original question: Fuck Mary Kill, Chad, Ethan, Frankie. “Fuck Chad, Marry Ethan, Kill that motherfucker Frankie.”

“Swap Ethan and Chad, then agreed,” Quinn said. Suddenly Ethan walked in in the khakis Quinn was talking about earlier, finding his seat in the back of the class. “Speak of the devil,” Tara tsked. “Yo, Ethan,” you called out. His eyes flickered up to meet yours before quickly dropping back down. “C’mon, why the long face? I heard only fans should be back up tonight, and I’m sure the ladies miss you as much you miss them,” you fake pouted. He just rolled his eyes and focused on copying down notes he borrowed from some friends.

“Ethan!” Tara called out to him, only this time he didn’t look up. “Don’t mind y/n, she’s just nervous. She wants to invite you to her party tonight, wants to see this ‘big dick’ everyone’s gassing.” You smirked and found Tara’s comment as a perfect opening. “Yeah, Ethan, that true? That you hide a footlong in your khakis?” You asked him condescendingly, a flush already flooding his cheeks. “Oh, Ethan,” Quinn gasped, grabbing on the sides of her desk to rock it. “It’s too big, I can’t take it,” she moaned artificially.

Ethan slouched in his seat, wanting to be as far as possible from here.

He was though, he slouched in his seat on the couch at the frat party, beer can in hand. He saw you dancing with some of your friends who he’s never seen before, having not seen you since Highschool. Oh would vengeance be sweet.

He waited until you walked into the kitchen for a drink so that he could approach you without distractions. “Y/n l/n,” he said with false surprise, making you turn around with a gasp. He grew taller, his hair was more put together, he was just hotter. “What a surprise,” he smirked. “Footlong!” You smiled, the name stemming from the joke from 12th grade. “Ethan- sorry. Old habits die hard,” you said. “It’s all good just, surprised to see you here,” he spoke.

“You’re taller!” You said awkwardly, gesturing your hands towards his figure. “Yeah, I guess canceling all those only fan subscriptions helped me grow,” he joked self deprecatingly, sadly smiling. You sighed, hating apologizes. “Oh, yeah sorry about all that. It was just a joke,” you said in the most tone deaf way possible. “Hey I mean, at least those were all rumors. It’s not like it came out that I had a threesome with Paul Keene and his cousin and it turned out to be very true.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips twisted into a snaky expression.

“Yo what the fuck is your problem?” You asked him as your temper rose. “Just taking a trip down memory lane,” he smirked before taking a sip of his beer, then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You looked at him with utter disgust for his remarks about the past. “Okay, my bad. You have gotten sexier though,” he said, empty hand reaching for your side.

You inched closer, giving into his touch. “Oh yeah?” You asked as you let his feel up your side. “Yeah,” he confirmed before finally landing a grip on your waist, pulling you in close. “You wanna dance?”

You led him to the dance floor to engage in some tipsy dancing. He wasn’t the best, was a little stiff, but you were there to help him out. You grinded on him as his hands rested at your hips. Ethan groaned as he felt his erection slowly growing as your ass rubbed against him.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing you by your wrist, and you complied to follow him up the stairs. He slammed you against the paneled wall and kissed you hungrily, groaning into your mouth. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a littler turned on by this, your stomach churning.

You slowly slipped your tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss as his hands reached to fumble with your tits.

“Fuck,” he said after pulling away, wiping the extra slobber on his face with his palm. He grabbed you by your hand this time, leading you into an empty bedroom, being quick to lock the door.

“So, Footlong,” you started while walking into the room. “We gonna test if the rumors true? And I’m gonna guess you’re a virgin. Sex isn’t the same as porn, and girls aren’t like those cam girls I know you like to watch. Just to let you know.” He grimaced at your words, seeing that you obviously haven’t changed at all.

“Sad to see you haven’t changed,” he said. “Still a bitch,” he said with a smirk. “A sexy bitch,” you said. “According to your words.” Ethan was quick to correct you, “I said you were sexier, not sexy.” Your expression quickly faltered. “God I can’t believe I kissed you. You probably have herpes,” he said while wiping a hand down his face. “I-I don’t-”

“You know I used to burn myself? Almost everyday after school?” He asked, completely shifting the mood. Your face filled with shock, up until now unaware. “Ethan- I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me-” “Cause it was none of your fucking business!” He yelled, making you inch back a bit. “Just like it was none of your fucking business saying those things to me, knowing what I already had going on in my life.” He said, referring to the death of Richie and his father’s coping mechanisms.

“But I know why you’re here, y/n. It’s not because you like me, it’s not because you want to make up, it’s because you’re a fucking loud mouthed whore.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but you just couldn’t.

As he stood he started to unbuckle his pants, letting them drop to his knees. Your eyes grew wide at the visible bulge in his boxers, maybe not 12 inches, but still huge. “What? You need a step by step tutorial?” He asked, eyeing your blank expression. His words made you quickly snap out of it and get down so your knees touched the cold wood.

You tugged his boxers down, allowing his dick to spring out. He shallowly hissed at the cold air. Your mouth watered at the sight, he was perfect. You eagerly took the tip of him, feeling the rumbles of his groans. “That’s it, shut up and take it,” he grunted, slowly thrusting himself deeper into your throat. You rested your hands on his inner thighs and moaned on his length, finding yourself extremely turned on.

“Is this gonna be our secret? Are you gonna be too embarrassed to admit to your friends that you got face fucked by Ethan Landry?” He asked, his thrusts growing more aggressive. Your eyebrows contorted upwards, and with every thrust your mouth made a wet clicking sound.

You continued moaning around him from the pleasure of being used, eyes now glossy and red. Ethan slipped his hand down and pulled his cock out of your mouth, making you sigh from disappointment. “Stick out your tongue,” he softly demanded, and you quickly complied. “That’s a good whore,” he groaned as he jerked himself off over your tongue. You found yourself reaching your tongue up, just for a little taste. “Does the slut want my cum?” He asked, growing close, face completely red. “Yes,” you moaned. “Beg for it.”

You pouted, hungry for his cum. “Please cum for me, Ethan. I want your cum s’bad!” You whimpered out. Ethan threw his head back as he shot his cum directly in your mouth, a little making its way onto your lips. You licked it off your lips sluttily before swallowing all of it. Ethan tilted his head slightly, “Not even a thank you?” He asked, annoyed. “Thank you,” you corrected.

He looked down at you on the floor, eyeing you still in the dress. “Turn around.” After you turned to face away from him, he unzipped your dress to help you take it off, taking his shirt off as well. He hooked your black thong in his fingers and moved them to the side, eyeing your glistening pussy. He spit on it before giving your ass a slap, making you yelp and bounce forward.

“Face down,” he ordered, making you lay your face down on the cool floor. He took his cock and rubbed it up and down your pussy, leading you to whimper. “Please fuck me, Ethan,” you moaned. He slapped your ass again, “Yeah, you want my cock, slut?” You nodded furiously. “Please, need your cock in me,” you whined, pushing your ass back in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he slid into you, grabbing a hold of your waist. “Ethan!” You moaned out. Never in a million years would you ever think that Ethan fucking Landry would be stretching you out. “That’s it, take my cock,” he groaned, ego boosting from how much you enjoyed it, from how you whimpered on his dick and clenched around him.

“So big,” you whispered, which he picked up on. “Yeah? You love my big dick stretching you out?” You nodded in response. “Yes, fuck I love your cock, Ethan!”

He got so much pleasure out of watching you submit for him, the girl who tormented him for years just from her words, going dumb on his cock. “Mm, slap my ass again please, it felt s’good,” you slurred out. He smiled and was quick to comply, leaving a red mark on your cheek. “Slut love when I smack her ass?” He asked smugly. “Mhm,” you whimpered.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you struggled to find anything to grab onto, reaching for your discarded dress to scrunch in your hands. “Not gonna say anything bitchy?” He asked, thrusts growing deeper. “Where’d your confidence go? Fuck you’re pathetic,” he smirked. “Pathetic slut who likes getting her pussy ripped apart by absolutely anyone.” You moaned at his words, growing close as tears formed in your eyes.

“So close, Ethan,” you whined, your stomach twisting in the most pleasurable way. “Oh yeah? Beg for it,” he grunted, slamming into you harder. “Fuck- please let me cum Ethan, your cock feels s’good,” you begged, cunt squeezing his length so tight. “That’s a good fucking whore, cum on my cock,” he groaned. You released all over him, squirting for the first time.

The liquid spurted onto his thighs and the floor, making you feel somewhat humiliated. He continued to fuck you, having not came yet. You screamed from the overstimulation, moaning uncontrollably. “Fuck, oh fuck. Ethann,” you whined as he chased his own high.

“Fuck!” He groaned with one final slam, filling your cunt with his thick cum. He was quick to pull out and watch his cum slowly drip out of your pussy. “Come taste yourself,” he said. You shifted around and bent over to suck his dick, covered in a mix of yours and his cum. He cursed under his breath as you overstimulated his cock, grabbing your head and pushing you down on his length, throwing his head back, groaning as you deepthroated him. Then he lifted your head up to see your fucked out face, wet with sweat. “Be useful and open your legs.”

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shamrockqueen · 6 months ago

Text

Omega retreat : chapter 5

Pairing: Alpha Bucky × Omega Reader

Warnings: R18, Smut, Not what it seems, ABO dynamics, knotting, biting, bruising, sexual themes, adult themes

Word count: 2029

Bucky Masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

He circled his fingers around the necks of the bottles, letting his nails cut through the wet labels as he pulled the beers from the cooler. The ice crunched together as it filled in the gap left behind before Bucky shut the lid and walked away.

His associates sat outside, and as he offered one of the beers as he approached one of the other men.

The third gentleman sat, unmoved, in a luxurious deck chair. His legs were spread, creasing his white trousers as his ankle sat on top of his other knee. He scratched at the chin of his dark goatee, looking back at his colleague through tinted glasses.

“I take it that the shop talk is over.”

Bucky sat back on his chair, rubbing his temple as Tony spoke.

“Not that it isn’t interesting.” Steve laughed back as he smoothed down a stray tuft of his sandy blonde before reaching back down to twist the top off his beer. A bit of foam followed after to dribble out over his thick fingers, and he switched the bottle to his other hand as he tried to shake the mess from his skin.

"Geez, Buck. Did'ya shake it?”

Bucky shrugged, laughing a little as he popped the cap off his own bottle and sat back before Steve shot back with another joke.

“Is this your way of getting back at me?”

Bucky shot back with equal sarcasm. “Yeah, I shook your beer because you were prowling through my Omega’s profile.”

“Can’t blame me for being a little jealous.”

“Oh? Back on the dating game, boys?" Tony gave them both a smirk as he asked.

“I think it really came through this time.” Bucky said before taking a sip of his beer.

“She has you smitten this soon?” Steve smiled back.

“She’s something else; I could tell right away.”

“I feel like I’ve heard this song before.” Tony teased, turning his eyes away from the other men.

“I know that this time is different. It’s that itch in my belly that had never been there before. She just really brings my Alpha out just when I hear her voice.” Bucky brought the spout back to his lips and knocked back another swig of beer before continuing to speak.

“I think that website finally came through for me.”

“You lucky bastard, but I can’t say they don’t owe you one at this point.” Steve shined back as he sipped up the last of his beer.

“I hope they know better than to let this end like any of the last ones.” Tony shot back, still trying to crack the sugar coating on this story to find a more realistic center. “I still say it’s no better than burning your money, especially after how long you’d had the subscription.”

“Says a man who’s already married.” Steve tried to grin away a small sneer.

Tony was a Beta—a married Beta with a baby on the way. He would never know the struggle of finding one’s perfect match when there were so few to look through.

“Besides, the girls get it for free, so somebody has to pay.” Steve didn’t even look up from his empty bottle when he said it more to himself than the other men. The website didn’t advertise as such to the desirable Omega’s, but the Alpha’s were given a much more formal subscription through a sister site. The Alphas were always willing to pay, of course.

“I just think that at this point, it would have to feel like a scam after all you’ve been through.” Tony spoke back.

"Well, there will be hell to pay if it is.” Bucky didn’t look back up as he answered, choosing instead to watch the swirl of his beer as he tipped the bottle back and forth.

Tony finally cleared his throat, annoyed that his pushback didn’t yield any results. “You know, I’ve heard some stuff about that place.”

Bucky hesitated before giving a stern “So have I.”

Tony took a deep breath, not wanting to insult his long-time friend any further. “I’m not saying you're that kind of person. You’re a good man, Buck. I just wish you didn’t associate with something that didn’t match your character.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t do those kinds of things. I want to do right by any girl of mine.”

Bucky never led any of his friends to believe he was anything less than an upstanding man, so Tony believed him as he spoke.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to disperse the cloud of awkward tension in the air. Especially what had circled his own head.

“Love at first sight then; I hope she lives up to this hype.”

“I’d say so.”

“Caught the fish I couldn’t.” Steve smirked back before leaning forward to tap his empty bottle against the one still in Bucky’s hands.

Bucky closed the gap with a little ‘clink’ to finish the small toast to his success.

“And don’t think you can try and steal her.”

Fed up with the sparks of jealousy, Tony hit his knees with the palms of his hand before pushing up from his seat.

“Well, I think it’s my turn to get a drink.”

With his colleague’s departure, Bucky felt the subtle buzz in his pocket before he could pull Steve into another conversation.

Bucky lifted his finger to excuse himself before walking back, passing Tony and his now-full glass of scotch.

He flipped his phone open, finding a picture on the small screen. He has to bring the phone closer to his face before yours becomes recognizable in the image of a changing room.

It was from an angle to show a flowy floral dress that ended along your upper thigh. It dipped along your bustline and tightened around the hourglass dip at your waist.

He smiled, leaning on the wall as another notification lit across the top of the little screen to signal you’d sent another photo.

You had gone through with your little shopping excursion, lifting your once dampened spirits. It was actually nice to like how you look in new clothes, and you made sure you weren’t the only one.

There was no doubt that you were perfectly Omega. From your overall shy demeanor to the soft shape of your gorgeous body as it lights up across the screen.

Bucky had had his fill of pushy women. He wasn’t asking for a servant, just an equal partner, but their demanding nature too easily turned him off.

He looked back at the glass door that stood between him and his friends out on the deck. It was just a small gesture to secure his privacy as he clicked a few buttons to bring himself to the new picture.

It was a romper, a low v-cut sitting over your breasts as the ends of the shorts rose high along your thighs.

He lingered on each dip and curve for as long as it would take to paint the picture to his memory before thumbing back with, ‘Doing some shopping, doll?’

He didn’t have the luxury of watching your response load with the dance of bouncing dots, but was almost immediately met with, “Yeah, I didn’t have vacation-friendly clothes. Whatcha think?’

‘The second one is a bit risqué, isn’t it?’

You flinched at the last message, and you hoped that it didn’t mean you offended him.

‘Oh geez. It is a bit, but I already bought it.’

‘I never said you didn’t look good; it’s certainly more than I’ve gotten to see so far ;)'

You laugh a little, feeling bashful upon seeing the little winking face as you hold your phone close. You wanted to type back, but his messages popped up before you could.

‘Are there any more pictures I can look forward to?’

‘I sent a few; you should have gotten them by now.’ You answered back just as quickly.

His simple flip phone wasn’t that great at receiving pictures, but just in time, two more made it through.

It’s you in a long, flowy dress of blue, showing less skin besides a leg peeking out from a slit at the side. It was cute; it looked form-fitting and soft.

The other was a simple plaid button-up top and a pair of denim shorts. You had your body turned to show the curve of your ass as a little peeked out the bottom of the denim. It made him glad that he’d be having you all to himself over that weekend.

His tongue spread over his lips as he pictured the thin strip of denim that would be covering your hidden pink center and how the seams would pop as he tried to pull it out of his way to find it.

‘Please tell me you bought that last one.’

‘Just the shorts, the shirt seemed like it would be too hot.’ You tapped away with a reddening smile before lifting your gaze back up to the other stores ahead. A familiar cursive name lit up in pink crossed your vision before you stepped towards it.

He must have been lost in thought as he studied the last few outfits, giving you time to let your own wander around the rest of the shops.

It had been a long time since you had this much fun, and even as you crossed through the threshold of the store and looked around at its overpriced goods, you wanted nothing more than to treat yourself like the beautiful omega he seemed to see.

There were some stringy pieces in the back, all lace and a little fabric. Not quite your style, so you kept browsing. There were a few baby doll dresses, some with fluff, and one that was nearly see-through. You eyed the black mesh bashfully, only now feeling just a bit in over your head.

You pinched the fabric, a little surprised at how silky the mesh was between your fingers.

You pulled it off the rack, sizing it up against your body, before shifting your eyes towards the changing room and thinking about what a good picture this beauty would make.

By the time your clothes were off and the dress was on, you knew it would be an immediate purchase before you even snapped the photo. You almost wanted it to be a surprise, but you craved this new kind of attention. To push past the edge of flattery into something deeper, maybe even darker.

Bucky stared at the small screen as he tried to navigate to any new photos, only to have it buzz between his fingers. It was you in a thin black nightie, showing him just a glimpse of everything he’d been pining to see. The subtle dips of your body and bare skin, the apex of your smooth thighs still hidden under the black hem, and the dark circles of your soft nipples nearly totally visible through the sheer fabric over your breasts.

He felt the air being punched out of his lungs like a blow to his stomach. It was one of the few times he would curse himself for not having a more modern phone because he couldn’t zoom in further.

‘Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?’

You replied with a cheeky ‘just a little’ before another photo flooded over his dinosaur of a phone.

This time you were facing away from the mirror, showing the contours of the back of your body that were now visible. You’d tried to bend your leg so it popped your bottom out in a desirable pose. It did just as you’d wanted, giving him a view of the cleft of your round ass as if the negligee were melting away to finally reveal your bare body.

He had to close the phone just to better calm himself so his building erection could leave as quickly as you’d given it to him. He’d never hear the end of it if he walked out, as it began to strain against his jeans.

There was no question now, even before his last message came through. You would absolutely be buying this one.

Chapter 6

Tags : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @birdenthusiastez @ozwriterchick

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girlsthickai · 3 months ago

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Madison Beer - Sensual 💙

Step into an exclusive world of allure and desire on Patreon, where captivating, premium content awaits to fulfill your every fantasy. 🔥 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/GirlsThickAI Appreciate your support! ❤️✨ 🎉 Exclusive Offer: Subscription for Only $3 on Patreon! 🎉

#madison beer #thicc babe #slimthick #perfect butt #cellulite #thick thighs #huge butt #beautiful body #thicc af #black hair #ai artwork #ai generated #ai girl

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sudsrunner01 · 2 months ago

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Get a taste of craft beer excellence with our Beer Subscription Ontario. Enjoy local brews every month at an affordable price, Visit to know more!

#beer subscription #monthly beer subscription #ontario craft case #ontario craft beer subscription #beer subscription ontario #monthly craft beer subscription #order beer #beer delivered

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what-we-do-in-santa-carla · 4 months ago

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The Lost Boys Incorrect Quotes - Community Inspired

Sam, holding up a camcorder: Edgar, I think you should play my father.

Edgar: I don't want to be your father.

Sam: Perfect, you already know your lines.

Star: Michael, your entire identity has been consumed by your relationship with a another man.

Michael, closing his eyes: You found my Billy Idol fanzine subscription.

Lucy: Well, what about you and David?

Star: David? The other day I thought he was trying to hold my hand.

Star: But he had just mistaken me for Michael

Star: Michael and I did our best to keep the language on the cake casual.

Birthday Cake: Hello during a random dessert, the month and day of which coincide numerically with the day Max turned you.

David, in tears: You guys, I never cry but-

Grandpa, standing at the mouth of cave holding root beer and Oreos: Boys night!

Dwayne, turning back to the rest of the boys: I need help reacting to something.

Sam: You can do whatever you want, you just have to know what that is. For me, it's Lucky Charms and TV.

Star: You don't see me saying anything about Marko and Paul's weird little relationship.

Marko and Paul, in unison: They're just jealous.

Paul: I was born in '59.

David: Then you were born twenty-eight years ago.

Paul: Which would make me twenty-seven, because everyone is ten for two years.

*David, staring in silence*

Paul: Because fifth grade is really hard for everyone...

Paul: Mom, how many lies have I been living?

Marko: Paul and I have an agreement.

Marko: If one of us dies, we stage it as a suicide caused by the unjust cancellation of Diff'rent Strokes.

Marko: We're gonna get that show back on the air, buddy.

Michael: Guys, are we just gonna avoid making eye contact forever? Who are we, David during sex?

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #incorrect quotes #lost boys #community quotes

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f10werfae · 2 years ago

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Barefoot and Pregnant

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Shy!Pregnant!Wife!reader

summary: Henry and his cockdrunk wife go through an emotional love-making experience, after being pressured by her friends to give her husband a ‘hall pass’ because of her growing body (DILF!Henry) (Dom!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶 Disclaimer 18+

Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Baby bun? Why are you cryin’? Is there somethin’ wrong with our miracle?” Henry rushed placing both of his hands onto his precious wife’s four month bump: he had come home to see her sobbing her eyes out into her pregnancy pillow. “I-I have your b-birthday present, h-here” She cried handing him a crumpled piece of paper, “A fuckin hall pass? The fahk do I need this for?”

- A few hours ago -

“So Y/n, I know your man’s birthday is coming up soon, what are ya getting him?” Chloe smirked putting down her beer, she wasn’t really someone Y/n would hangout with, but considering she was friends with Stephanie it was kind of obligatory. Y/n shuffled uncomfortably as all eyes panned to her, this brunch with her girls had taken a weird turn, with them questioning her sex life and very clearly overstepping private boundaries. Y/n on the other hand was adamant that she would spill nothing, ultimately leading to the other women becoming increasingly annoyed.

“U-Uh I was t-thinkin’ of givin’ him the s-sweater I made him, a-and cookin’ him a m-meal” She whispered, pouting when she heard the others giggling and scoffing at her gift idea, her hand falling to her baby bump for comfort. Her little gemstone always had her back. Henry always loved her knitted goods, in fact most of his jumpers were ones she had made, and he never left home without a packed lunch from his woman.

“Girl, just cause you’re preggers doesn’t mean you can’t spoil him! Get him somethin’ better than some lousy knitted shit” Jenny giggled nudging Chloe playfully; Y/n’s hands now started to tremble, she had finally gotten used to nothing but praise thanks to Henry, but now that she was back in this toxic environment she could feel her anxiety start to swirl at the pit of her stomach. She wanted her Henry, and she wanted him now.

“B-but he usually likes m-my meals and h-he asked for a j-jumper” She whispered pursing her lips and clasping her hands together over her stomach, the lemonade she ordered now tasting like absolute poison on her tongue. “Why don’t you get him like a subscription to beer or somethin-“

“OR A HALL PASS? Omg a hall pass would be so good, because you’re obviously pregnant you should give him one, poor guy will need it” Chloe snickered interrupting Stephanie, “A-a hall pass? Whats t-that?” Y/n questioned tilting her head to the side like an adorable puppy, her hand softly rubbing over her stomach, her little miracle’s kicks following her hands every move.

“Basically girl, now that you’re pregnant, every man finds it harder to fuck his wife; let’s be honest it’s a very natural thing. A hall pass is like giving him a ‘get out of jail card’ like letting him fuck someone else for a night or something” She explained placing another chip into her mouth, as if she wasn’t just excusing cheating on Y/n. “B-But I don’t want him t-to” The smaller woman sniffled feeling tears already start to collect in her eyes, did Henry really find her unattractive now that her body was changing?

“I mean come on, are you really going to give him a lousy sweater? Here if it makes you uncomfortable for him to fuck someone else, I’m single!” Chloe joked motioning her hands to pretend she was sucking someone off, the rest of the girls giggling along with her, except for Stephanie who was disgusted by the whole exchange. If anything she was the only friend Y/n really enjoyed hanging out with, and the only friend Henry trusted her with.

“You guys need to knock it off and stop being disgusting shits, come on Y/n Henry texted me to get your somethin’ from the pharmacy” Stephanie grunted pulling Y/n up from her seat, scowling when Chloe tucked in a napkin into Y/n’s purse that said “Hall pass” followed by her own phone number. A poor sniffling Y/n, felt her own emotions starting to shuffle all over the place, her hormones truly had her. With her hand tightly clasped in Stephanie’s the both of them got into her car, when she finally let out a massive sob, wrecking through her smaller body; Stephanie reaching over giving her hugs and whispers to calm her down.

“I-I D-Do you t-think h-he should get a H-hall pass?” Y/n questioned wiping her eyes and nose onto a hankie, her hands smoothing over her stomach, her baby must have realised she was upset; the little thing was wriggling around like crazy almost as if it was trying to provide its momma comfort. “I mean I was gonna suggest beer or a razor, Chloe is just a bitch and insanely jealous because you two are an absolute power couple. Plus it’s not exactly a secret how much Henry is in love with ya” Stephanie smiled booping her on the nose, sighing in relief at the sight of a smile on Y/n’s face.

“B-but maybe he does find me u-ugly now, h-he even offered to shave me down there” She pouted looking down, “Girl he did it because he wanted you to feel more comfortable, you’ve always been the trim typa woman”

“I guess so, s-so what do we need at the pharmacy?”

“Nothin’ I jus’ wanted outta there, Ya sure you’ll be alright girl?”

“Y-yeah H-hen gets home soon a-anyway” After seeing Stephanie go off, Y/n bolted for the bedroom, even after all the comforting words from her friend; she still couldn’t help but feel unwanted and ugly. Would Henry find her pretty again if she let him fuck Chloe? Fuck, just the thought of it haunted Y/n’s thoughts, her man had always told her that he was only for her, and that she was only for him. There is no Chloe in the equation.

- Back To Present -

“A fuckin hall pass? The fahk do I need this for?”

Henry growled holding the napkin and seeing some random number beside it. “I-I” Y/n couldn’t even get words out without sobs shaking her whole body, leading Henry to pull her onto his lap as he sat against the headboard, one hand cupping her face gently while the other cupped his baby miracle. “Calm down sweetpea, tell daddy what happened to your n’ our miracle today”

“W-well we all went t-to that cafe b-by the s-square” She stopped, crying again

“S’okay sugar pie, breathe with me, m’right here and m’not lettin’ ya go” He whispered kissing her cheek softly, the hand one her stomach sneaking around and grabbing a cheek full of ass, making her squeak and gasp. “C-Chloe said t-that because i-i’m pregnant, you wouldn’t find-find me pretty a-anymore, a-and that I should l-let ya b-be with her for a-a night” She explained nuzzling into his palm, his thumb running over her cheek affectionately.

“Are ya fuckin’ crazy, you are the g’damn sexiest thing on this planet sweetpea, my sweet gorgeous wife. You’re takin’ care of our little baby in there, how could ya not be more beautiful? Ya shoulda jus told them we still fuck every night like rabbits-“

“Stoppp, s’embarrassing, b-but then why’d you offer t-to help me shave?”

“Cause baby bun, I know you’re not a grower, n’ I had an idea for ya”

“o-oh I see” She said now realising that her thoughts were jus messin’ with her, “I get so worried cus a forget how fast ya mind is runnin’, ya gotta keep me in the loop sugar, cause you’re mine” He explained leaning in and kissing her wet lips, his hands grasping her waist, kneading her skin.

“I-I know, m’sorry, she j-jus really freaked m-me out. C-cause you’re m-mine and I don’t w-want ya l-lookin’ at anyone else” She explained, Henry smirking at her shy nature, the way she shuffled closer ok his lap, her arms clasping around his neck. “Now ya understand how I get baby, we just need each other n’ no one else” He said lowly, his lips pulled up into an almost eerie smile, as he then stood up from the bed and walked them both towards the bathroom.

Nodding at his words she giggled at the cold feeling of the bathroom counter underneath her thighs, just letting her wild man of a husband rip off her underwear, his electric trimmer already laid out on the side. “W-what was your i-idea?” Her hips bucked as his fingers rubbed her clit slightly before turning on the trimmer, if her stomach wasn’t already huge she would have looked herself. “You’ll see baby bun, jus ta remind ya, of me” He laughed skilfully moving the trimmer around, with Y/n giggling every time he leant forward and kissed her inner thighs or her stomach, he just could not keep his hands off her.

“W-will you help me, r-rinse off after?” With her lips puckered out waiting for a kiss, Henry stood up, letting her suck on his tongue for a few seconds before pulling away teasingly: he had already planned on rinsing her off himself anyway. Lifting her onto the shower bench, he rinsed off her freshly shaven pussy, clearly proud at the thing he had engraved onto her nestle of curls. The letter ‘H’

“What ya think baby, are ya mine or what?” He sang snapping a picture of her pussy and showing it to her, it wasn’t unusual that during sex he would simply take pictures of him leaking out of her, or the faces she would make whenever he was cumming right inside her warm centre. “ I-I love it, m’all yours” She giggled watching him pat her dry with his towel, following him as he led her back into their bedroom, softly setting her on top of the array of cushions and blankets.

“Who made this blanket baby?” He said holding up a woollen baby blue blanket, “M-me” She whispered watching him pull up her dress over her body, leaving her body naked in front of him, his precious masterpiece. “Mhm ya made it for us, n’ our little gemstone, our little family. No one else” He grumbled kissing up her stomach, smiling every time his baby kicked up at him, he couldn’t wait to find out the gender in a weeks time.

“Our little family” She whispered, trying to hold back a smile as Henry peppered hundreds of kisses up her body, his hands grasping at her growing tits, kissing at her nipples and watching them harden. Every night Henry would treat her to a nice breast massage, claiming it would help the milk come in faster, now was that true? Y/n didn’t know but any excuse to have him touch her was a welcomed one. Frankly Henry didn’t know either.

“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight sugar pie, m’ gonna make love to my gorgeous pregnant wife, who is the most amazin’ woman av’ ever seen” He whispered directly into her ear, kissing the shell of it as he felt her hands splayed out on his chest. “R-really?”

“Mhm going to take it nice n’ slow, love on every single parta you, n’ show ya jus’ how much ya mean to me” Looking into her widened doe eyes, he gave her an eskimo kiss, then let their lips meet in a slow, long passionate kiss. Their lips simply feeling each other, their tongues gently massaging each other as she whimpered against him. “Love you so much, my baby bun, all obedient n’ beautiful; my wife, mother of my baby”

“I-I love you too, can’ wait to m-meet our little m-miracle” She hiccuped pushing forward for their lips to meet again, whining when Henry pulled away and turned her body so he could spoon her, placing a soft pillow underneath her bump to make sure she was comfortable. “Ya comfy momma?” “Mhm, miss holdin’ y-you though” She whispered, gasping when she felt Henry’s hand intertwined with hers, his head settled into the crook of her neck; his warm breath fanning her neck to make sure she knew he was with her. He was staying.

He whispered that he was momentarily going to let go of her hand to prepare her for him, his hands lifting her leg up slightly, to allow his hand to venture in massage her slick set of lips gently; her soft gasps and whimpers causing her to nuzzle back into his chest. His athletic shorts were easily shrugged off, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, his cock already slipping itself through her folds. Y/n whined opening and closing her hand, clearly wanting to hold his again, smiling in relief as he held onto hers tightly.

Both of them breathing out as she took him inch by inch, bottoming out inside her as his balls rested against her ass, with Y/n holding Henry’s hand close to her chest; kissing his knuckles every so often. “Love this pretty pussy a’ yours, always so welcoming n’ warm, all for your husband isn’t it?”

“A-all for you, m-my husband” She whispered softly bucking her hips to let him know he could start going, and within seconds his hips started rolling against hers, slowly and deeply reaching every inch inside of her; dare I say he even poked her womb a few times with how deep he was going. Taking his hand he reached under his pillow and retrieved his phone, angling it in front of Y/n as he kissed her neck sloppily, taking a photo of her eyes rolled to the back of her head; her mouth agape and drooling onto Henry’s arm under her head.

“My pretty girl, you’re doin’ so well for me, so prouda ya” He whispered dropping his phone, his hand landing onto her tits, grasping both of them in the middle of her chest, rubbing both nipples in a circular direction; his cock stuffed into her velvety walls, his rhythm staying the same. “F-feel you so deep, t-too good” She breathed out cupping her stomach which was now bouncing along with his thrusts, which caught Henry’s eyes as he then cupped the bottom of her stomach. That photo was definitely going to be his phone wallpaper

“Who knocked you up? Who got you this full n’ swollen?”

“Y-you did daddy, f-fuck, feel so full” She moaned, his hands rubbing up and down her stomach lovingly, the fact that she was holding his baby just made her that more irresistible to him; she was taking care of the perfect mix of them both, their baby miracle. “You dare call yourself ugly, you wouldn’t call our baby ugly would ya? So why would call its home ugly? You’re protectin’ them with this beautiful haven inside ya baby, you’re amazin’” He whispered, his hands flowing down to her pussy, feeling the pattern of the H, his fingers found her precious little clit, rubbing the sensitive button until he felt her clench around his length. “These beautiful tits are gonna feed and nourish our baby, n’ maybe me sometimes, how can you say they’re not sexy as fuck; how you’re able to do all these things naturally, as my woman” He joked nipping her shoulder, feeling her giggle and her hole clench at the idea of her own husband sucking on her hardened nipples.

“Can feel you gettin’ close honey” He whispered watching her face turn to the side, her hand reaching around to his head, her lips pushing his into an open mouthed tongue kiss; his thumb lovingly wiping her drool covered chin, his thrusts not letting down. “b-baby, beautiful, f-family” She said clearly cockdrunk, muttering out words that she had heard from her husband, “Yeah baby that’s right, now do ya think ya can let go for daddy?” He cooed letting her nuzzle her head back into her cushion, his smile softening at her smile and at the way her hand instantly reached to hold his.

“Am’ gonna cum H-Hen”

“S’okay sugar babe, m’ gonna cum too, together okay?”

Henry picked up the pace just for her, her whines and whimpers getting louder until finally he felt her creamy onto his cock, his own juices spurting inside her; causing her to breathe out happily at the warm stuffy feeling inside of her. “I love you, don’t ever fuckin’ doubt that, you have a nasty thought in your pretty head? You tell me n’ i’ll sort it out” He growled kissing her cheek as he turned her to lay on her back, with him propped up on his elbow as he traced over her stomach. “What are ya t-tracin’?”

“Hearts, so our mini baby bun knows what love looks like” He chuckled finishin’ his tracin’ looking up to his wife’s eyes, with her getting all giddy and smiley at his confession. “I-I already love ‘em so much, g-gon dress them so p-pretty. N’ w-we can play i-in the fields w-with them” She giggled playing with his fingers which were on her chest, the post sex haze doing nothing but accentuating their love for each other. “Pretty like their gorgeous momma” Henry whispered pecking her lips once more before he remembered something.

“Now how about I show ya somethin’, ya don’t havta walk, ill carry ya” He whispered as she nodded, the both of them trodding to the end of the long hallway towards his work room, her eyes widening at the site of two wooden bassinets sitting at the corner of the room. “Y-you made this for mini bun?! B-but why two?” She wondered looking up at his deep blue eyes, “m’ preparin’ for the next one bunny”

“t-two babies” She giggled whispering to herself at the idea of her big gruff husband handling two tiny tots at once, watching him dote on them like the protective man he was. “Mhm m’ gonna keep ya barefoot n’ pregnant, like ya this way baby bun, all swollen an’ big for me” He gruffed nuzzling his rough bearded cheek against her soft one, “Told ya, you don’t need those stupid friends a’ yours when you’ve got me sugar, m’all ya need and our mini bun right ‘ere”

———

PSA: Hope this is all good! I wanted to show a more emotional and loving side to their relationship 🫶 But still sprinkle a bit of dark!manipulative!Henry

library blog of works @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, use blog): @drewsuncrustables (thank you for the ‘H’ idea) @they-call-me-arte @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

Hope you all enjoy this instalment xoxo

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #henry cavill x shy!reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x pregnant!reader #henry cavill rpf #rpf #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill x you #lumberjack!henry cavill

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