#but i love noah's butt in this

[asheraviangel]

Noah Beck (with Bryce Hall and Josh Richards) on TikTok

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Leverage Redempton S01E07 The Double-Edged Sword Job.

[lifemod17]

Being ahead of timezones has it's perks!!!

Bro I am an emotional wreck this is so pretty!?!! Like obviously it's Noah freaking Kahan so I already knew it was going to be a sweet, sappy, folky, banger BUT hearing this song go from when he would play it exclusively in shows, to the final recorded version has me ALL UP IN MY FEELS!!

His lil "woo!" is so silly but SO PRECIOUS OMGGGG

This is a very sweet song (and over all an incredible record) I urge you to go listen to it whenever it's the 9th of February for you!!

EMOTIONAL AF CUZ WDYM 'STICK SEASON' IN IT'S ENTIRETY IS 2 HOURS LONG

[kitkatwinchester]

YES STILES!!

LET'S GOOOOO!!!

THAT'S MY BOY!!

THAT'S MY BABY!!!

HERO STILES TO THE RESCUE!!!

Dude literally just dove in and just stuck the baseball bat there and SAVED THE F*CKING DAY!!

BECAUSE HE'S STILES!!

Also this new running joke of the baseball bat is seriously my favorite thing. XD XD

AND THEN THE JOKE AND THE HUG!!

"I always said aluminum was better than wood."

AND THEN THE HUG!!!

UGGGGHHH I LOVE THE STILINSKIS SO MUCH!!!!

LET'S F*CKING GOOOOO!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

Anyways.

Yes, I did notice that is only a temporary solution, but it just needs to last us through the lunar eclipse until the werewolves get their powers back.

So it'll be FINE, okay?

It'll be fine.

Anyways here's the Stilinskis being the best.

[riptozier]

( ngl this fandom has got me thinking a lot about. size differences lately 👀 )

[ataliagold]

If Love Was Contagious I Might Be Immune To It

For @steddie-week day 2, prompts "hands" and "touch starved".

Title from an unreleased Noah Kahan song.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1916

C/W: Referenced death of a grandparent.

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, Steve is touched-starved, Steve has bad parents, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart

Summary: Steve's early life is mostly devoid of love - until Eddie Munson.

___

He’s eight years old, and his wrist is broken.

It’s the first time he’s broken a bone, but it certainly won’t be the last.

Steve cries silently in the school nurse’s room. His father hated it when he cried, always told him to man up, to grow up, to act like a Harrington.

He tried to keep the tears in, he really did, but his arm is throbbing and his wrist is turning a funny colour and he wishes he’d taken Tommy up on his offer to sit with him and wait for his mom to turn up but he’d wanted to be tough, tough like his dad, and he’d told him he wasn’t a baby and he’d be fine.

So, while he loses the battle against the tears cascading down his cheeks, he stays tight-lipped and quiet.

His mom arrives eventually. Steve sits there, clutching his wrist across his stomach as the nurse explains to Janet Harrington what had happened, that Steve had fallen in P.E, that the bone was definitely broken and he needed to go straight to urgent care.

Janet nods. Turns to Steve, expression tight and unreadable, and gestures quickly for him to follow her out to the car.

Steve quickens his pace behind her, little legs carrying him along behind the click-clack of her heels.

He reaches for her hand with his good one.

Knows he shouldn’t, knows he isn’t supposed to keep trying to touch because he’s a big boy now, he doesn’t need to be held and coddled anymore.

But he’s hurting, and he wants his mom.

She tightens her hand around his almost in surprise, squeezing sharply.

“For goodness’ sake, Steve,” she hisses, dropping his hand again like it’s something bad, “do you want all your friends to see you like this? Act your age.”

Steve snatches his hand back to his side. Blinks through the new flood of tears in his eyes, swallows thickly, keeps his gaze on the hard tiled floor.

He’s eight years old, and his mother doesn’t want to hold his hand.

*****

He’s fourteen years old when his grandma dies.

Smoking with Tommy behind the bike shed at the school, they are quieter than usual.

The funeral is this weekend. Steve’s never been to a funeral before.  His mom ordered him a suit the day after they got the news, the reality of it barely sinking in before he was being stood in front of the mirror in the store while a man wrapped a tape around him, taking his measurements while his mom tapped her foot behind him.

He wonders what will happen when his parents go away, now that he can’t go and stay with grandma. He’ll miss her. He’ll miss her like hell.

No more baking, no more helping her plant flowers in her sunny backyard, no more taking slow walks to the park with her little yappy dog.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters eventually, stomping the butt of his cigarette into the dirt.

“Huh?” Steve asks, not looking up.

“You know. About your grandma.”

“Oh,” Steve waves a hand, cigarette between his fingers. Nonchalant. Unemotional. Harrington. “S’fine, she was just some old lady.”

Tommy sniffs, raises an eyebrow. “It was your grandma, man.”

Steve shrugs, forces a smirk. “Reckon she left me anything in her will?”

He burns as he says it.

He doesn’t want money. Doesn’t want things. He just wants his grandma back.

Tommy snorts out a laugh, shakes his head, punches Steve lightly in the shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

Steve takes a long drag on the cigarette, blows the smoke out towards Tommy’s face. His friend swears and shoulder charges him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and the two of them start to wrestle.

Here, with the stench of tobacco on his breath, grunting as he tightens his grip on Tommy and shoves him roughly aside, Steve thinks this is the closest he’s been to a hug for a long time.

A silent tear tracks down his cheek, and Steve wipes it away before Tommy can see it.

He’s fourteen years old, and his best friend would rather punch him than hug him.

*****

He’s seventeen years old and in love with Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy holds his hand, sometimes. She kisses his cheek, smiles shyly when he wraps an arm around her waist, lets him touch.

But only sometimes.

And that’s ok, Steve thinks. He knows he can be too much, that he asks for too much, that ever since he was a little boy all he wanted was for someone to hold him, and now that he’s older, to hold someone in return.

He had to keep that in check. Had to keep his touches few and light – just a brush of his thumb over Nancy’s hand where he wanted to interlock their fingers, where he wanted to squeeze her tight to his chest and burrow his head into her shoulder and turn himself inside out for her.

He dreams about the creature that came out of the wall, sometimes.

Wakes up sweat-drenched with his pulse galloping, feels across the bed for Nancy’s hand because he keeps sneaking into her bedroom at night to sleep because he can’t handle being on his own right now.

She wakes. Holds his hand briefly, tells him it was just a dream, rolls over, lets his hand go. Faces away from him.

Steve tells himself it’s fine. His heart is still pounding, he’s still trembling slightly, but it’s fine.

He wishes Nancy would hold his hand a little longer. Wishes she’d tuck herself closer to him, press her lips to the back of his head, hold him until he’s able to fall asleep again.

But he’s a man now. He’s a Harrington, and he doesn’t need to be held.

Nancy had nightmares sometimes, too.

She’d cry out in her sleep, and Steve would carefully wrap an arm around her, murmur into her ear, tell her she was safe, that he had her.

When Nancy woke, she’d push him away. Tell him she needed to breathe, that she needed some space.

Steve tried to give her space. Tried other ways to try and help Nancy feel better – then came Tina’s party, then came the drink staining Nancy’s top and a cold bathroom and bullshit.

Steve was seventeen years old, and his love was bullshit.

*****

Steve is nineteen years old, and he has the best friend in the entire world.

He and Robin are glued at the hip. She hugs easily, drapes herself across him, nudges him with bony hips and elbows and grabs his hand when the lights at Family Video flicker because she knows that still terrifies him.

Steve’s not used to it.

To having someone reach for him, to pull him into a hug, to voluntarily reach out and touch him like there isn’t something wrong with him.

And so, he never reaches for her first. Always lets her initiate contact, because he never wants to be too much, not like how he was with his mother, with Nancy.

She’s standing next to him at work now. Shuffling through returned tapes, letting out a bored huff, leaning back on her elbows on the counter.

The bell above the Family Video door chimes.

Steve doesn’t look up until Robin pokes him in the ribs, until she waggles her eyebrows at him.

“Look who it is,” she whispers, with zero subtlety.

He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

Because they’ve been playing this game for a while, Robin doing her best to bring the two of them together, to nudge them from this painful will-they won’t-they situation into something more serious.

The truth is, Steve’s head over heels for the other man.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know where to put it, because he doesn’t want to half-ass anything ever again – if he’s going to love Eddie, he wants to do it with everything he has, but everything Steve has always seems to be too much for everyone else.

If he ruins what he and Eddie already have, this easy friendship, it would put a strain on his relationship with the kids too, and everyone had already been through so much, he couldn’t…

“Oh my god, dingus,” Robin groans.

Eddie’s wandered on past the counter after shooting Steve a grin, headed for the sci-fi section tucked away in the corner.

“What?” Steve huffs.

“I can literally see the little cogs turning in there,” Robin flicks her index finger against the side of his head. “For the sake of my sanity, just talk to him. Please.”

“Fine,” Steve harrumphs, tossing a case to one side. “But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”

Robin smiles wide, reaches for his hand, squeezes it gently, encouragingly. “Go get him, Stevie.”

Steve is nineteen years old, and he finally has someone to hold his hand, even if not quite in the way he’d been longing for.

*****

Steve is twenty-two years old, and sometimes he’s so overwhelmed by love for this man that it stops him in his tracks.

He’s draped across Eddie, the two of them on the couch with the TV quietly playing something in the background but Steve doesn’t hear it.

His head is on Eddie’s chest, ear pressed to his heart, listening to the soothing rhythm of his boyfriend’s pulse.

Eddie has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve, one hand tracing gently up and down his bare back, fingers tracing over moles and scars and the ridges of his spine.

Steve breathes him in. Presses his head further into Eddie, like he could burrow into him. Wanted to, sometimes.

Eddie’s chest vibrates gently as he chuckles.

“Y’ok there, Stevie?” he asks, and kisses the top of his head.

“Mmmm,” Steve manages, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest.

It had taken him a long time to realize that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.

In the early days of their relationship, Steve had been…restrained. Muted, afraid to overwhelm the other man, trying to carefully seek out where Eddie’s boundaries were, work out just how long he could hug him for, just how many kisses were too many, when Steve was starting to step over into being too damn much…

Three years later, and he still hadn’t found that boundary.

Eddie took everything Steve had to give him and poured it back tenfold.

He’d smile into Steve’s mouth when he kissed him, run his tongue along the seam of Steve’s lips until he let him in, he’d trace every mole and blemish on his skin with his fingers and then his mouth until Steve was squirming and laughing under him, he’d stroke and hold and squeeze and give and take.

Steve had so much love to give, and Eddie was hungry for it.

They’d been lying here for hours tonight. Skin to skin, Eddie warm and pliant under Steve, humming happily when Steve tightened his hold on him, when Steve’s breath puffed over his collarbone.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks eventually, hand resting in chestnut locks, nails scratching gently over Steve’s scalp.

“Yeah?”

“You ready for bed, sweetheart? You gotta get up early for work.”

Steve sighs, tucks himself back into Eddie’s chest. “Little longer?” he murmurs.

Eddie smiles. Lowers his hand to the back of Steve’s neck, massaging the muscle there, feeling the moment Steve sinks further into him.

“’Course, Stevie. As long as you like.”

Steve is twenty-two years old, and he finally has someone to hold him.

___

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 47 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You keep Bradley on his toes like it's your full time job. That's why it feels so good to be the one to wear you out for once. With the upcoming air show to plan for, Bradley wasn't expecting his day to be shaken up by some phone calls.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, oral, butt stuff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Somehow, Bradley was ready to go again. He was standing outside his own bedroom door, heavy cock held in his hand and a paper crown on his head. Maybe he should have felt ridiculous, but you made him feel alive. You and he were fucking to make a baby now, and that's why he was already hard. That's why he would keep getting hard all night.

Rustling noises from the other side of the door had him raring to go, but he stood as still as he could. Finally you asked, "Are you there?"

"I'm waiting patiently, Princess. I got my crown on." He was excited, and maybe he was feeling a little cocky over the fact that you asked him to wear it for you. He loved seeing you in the purple one, because it made him feel like he owned you when he fucked you in it. And he wanted to be owned by you, too. 

When you opened the door, Bradley smiled. You looked so pretty, fresh faced from the shared shower the two of you had enjoyed together. Then you held up your phone and said, "I'm recording. Hi, Daddy." 

He stroked himself, already looking forward to loading this depraved video onto the purple USB drive. "Hey, Baby," he rasped, eyes drifting down your body to find you were wearing his last name over your perfect breast. Then he froze. Your arm was hanging down at your side right next to the bulging pocket of his dress whites jacket which was stuffed full with the box holding your engagement ring. "Shit."

"You feel like making a movie?" you asked, biting your lip and running your hand up and down his jacket. Bradley released his cock and lunged for you, and you laughed as his arm encircled your body. "Wow, Daddy. Your stamina is impressive for someone who can't use a smartphone."

His heart was pounding as he slipped his hand inside the pocket and wrapped it around the little box. Carefully, while he rubbed himself against your clit to distract you, he opened it up and ran his index finger along the edge of the diamond and the smooth band. The hinge closed again, and he pulled his hand and the box slowly from the pocket. Chances were you hadn't seen it.

Bradley kissed your ear as he cupped your ass with his free hand. You were wearing your plug, and when his fingers connected with the soft silicone, he moaned your name. "You chose me over the boys your age because of my stamina, Princess."

Your head was tipped back, eyes closed as he teased along your pussy with his long middle finger, rubbing your slick opening with his fingertip. He had you distracted while he looked around for somewhere to put the ring. Skittles walked into the room as you started whining, and Bradley made eye contact with the dog before tossing the ring at her tiny bed. The box landed softly, and Skittles trotted over to it, sniffing before walking in a little circle. She plopped down with her front paws and head covering the box. Noah was right all along; the damn dog was his best friend. 

"No," you moaned as Bradley slipped his finger deeper while he pushed on your plug. "I chose you, because I'm in love with you. The stamina and big dick are just a bonus."

When he confirmed that you hadn't been filming in the direction where he'd thrown the engagement ring, he turned the phone slightly in your hand to capture him nipping at your neck. "Right now, you get anything you want since you were a good girl in the kitchen and let me fuck you hard and rough."

He started to undo the jacket buttons so he could get his hands on the rest of you. "I want you to make me feel really full. And I don't think we should waste your cum in my ass, you know?" you panted as he stroked your furled nipple with his thumb.

"Jesus Christ, Princess," he growled. Less than seven months ago, you were his innocent looking babysitter that he was jonesing for, and now you were talking about his cock and cum in your ass. He kissed you softly. "I'll give you anything you want." 

"I know you will." You handed him your phone and guided him onto the bed on his back, and then you settled on your belly in between his spread legs and took his length in both of your hands. You were quite a sight this way, wearing his jacket, and he zoomed in with your phone and watched you place an open mouth kiss on his cock.

"You look pretty like that," he whispered, and his cock jumped as you grinned. 

"Are you going to watch this when you're deployed again?"

Bradley thought about the polaroids you sent him with last time. Maybe this would be a little more secure. He could already imagine watching this when he was lonely for home and missing you badly. You kitten licked at his precum as you made eye contact with him through the phone screen, and he nodded. "Yeah. I'll add it to the special gallery of all the dirty Princess shit on my phone. Watch it when I'm craving you."

You moaned softly and buried your face in his balls, nuzzling him as he spread his legs a little wider. You wanted to get fucked. He knew that. And he wanted to fuck you again, too. So he was going to have to lay here and get through another exemplary blowjob without cumming on your face or in your mouth. But with Skittles protecting your ring from you, he smirked and tucked his free arm behind his head and just enjoyed it.

"Show me what you got, Baby," he encouraged as you ran your tongue back and forth across his balls, and then you started to suck gently. "Good girl." He let you go for a while, enjoying the feel of your lips and tongue and the soft suction. "How about you suck my cock wearing my jacket and name tag."

You got up onto your knees and flashed the BRADSHAW name tag and your tits for him. "That's my Daddy's name," you said with a bright smile, before leaning down and taking his cock deep with one smooth motion that left his hips bucking up while he gasped.

"Shit!" You looked up at him and hummed with your mouth full, eyes bright and proud of yourself. You bobbed up and down, fast and jerky, and Bradley succumbed to the various noises he wanted to make. You grabbed at his base and licked at him frantically as you rubbed yourself on the bedding, and he just knew you were going to love rewatching this fucking video as much as him. 

But now he was getting a little too close for comfort, and you were the one who said not to waste it. "You taking me for a ride?" he managed to ask as you sucked on his tip and massaged your saliva all over his balls. 

When you popped him free you whined, "I want to," before crawling up his body and kissing him. "Make me feel full?" you asked, and Bradley set the phone down to take your face gently between his hands and stroke your soft skin.

"Always," he whispered, pressing his lips to yours over and over. "I love you."

You moaned into his mouth and told him how much you loved him back between kisses that he didn't want to end. But soon enough you were pulling away and turning your back to him. He snatched up your phone again and recorded the way you eased the white jacket off your shoulders and also bunched it up so he could see your purple plug. You turned back to look at him as you gently took his cock in your hand and sank down around him.

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

You loved the way it felt, but it was almost always on the verge of just being too much. The plug and Bradley at the same time filled you so much, it made you ache with pleasure. Every small movement had you whining his name. You knew he was still filming everything, but you didn't even have to act like you were about to get off, because it really was hopeless when he made you feel this good.

"Keep going, Baby," he encouraged as you rocked back and forth on his cock, clenching in need. Then you felt his fingers on your hip and butt before he found the base of your plug and gave you a little more pressure.

"It's too much!" you moaned as you rocked. "It's so good!" You turned around to watch him panting as he held your phone and pressed on your plug again. "You'll make me come," you gasped, and he just nodded in response. You held onto the fabric of his coat and rode him slowly, letting your pleasure build and build. The soft gripping you could feel turned to a clench that left your nipples hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying your best to talk, but you couldn't.

You came with him buried deep, so full you could only make a noise that had Skittles looking up at you from her bed as she cocked her head to the side. You were keening for Bradley, riding out your pleasure as he rubbed gentle circles on your hip and encouraged you. 

Once you started to slow, teeth chattering as you realized he was still hard, you looked at him and asked, "You didn't come yet?"

He shook his head dangerously slowly and handed you the phone again. The video had been recording for twenty seven minutes, and you gasped as he sat up with his cock still inside you. "I did not, Princess. What did I tell you earlier about my stamina?"

"Oh god," you gasped as one of his hands snaked around your body and inside the jacket to squeeze your breast. 

"Now," he whispered next to your ear, "get on all fours and I'll show you exactly what I mean."

You did as you were told, and Bradley pushed the jacket up higher on your back as he fucked you every bit as hard as he had in the kitchen earlier. Your face was buried in the bedding, and you weren't sure if you were even holding the phone correctly to catch it on video, but he was working you over good. And you took it with a smile on your face as Bradley lifted you away from the blanket with his hand wrapped gently around the front of your neck. 

"Be as loud as you want," he grunted. "Let the neighbors hear for all I care. I wanna hear it."

"Daddy!" you screeched for him as he filled you up with cum. "Daddy," you gasped, voice hoarse now as he let go of you. Slowly you eased your chest all the way down, but he plucked the phone out of your hand again. 

You heard him softly say, "Look at that. What a pretty mess," as he stroked your pussy and rear end which were still in the air for him. "What a gorgeous pussy."

"Bradley," you croaked, and he patted his wet cum against you before your phone ended up on the bed next to your face. You started giggling as he peeled his jacket off of you and collected you into his arms. "That was really fun."

You licked his sticky cum from his fingers as he looked at you in reverence. "That video is fucking filthy, and I love you with everything inside me." You giggled harder as he smiled and added, "I can't wait to watch it with you."

He helped you remove your plug and get cleaned up, and you were snuggled in under the blankets, eyelids getting heavy as Bradley slipped out of the bed. "Where are you going?"

"Give Skittles a little treat for being so good," he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You watched him walk across the room naked, his body tan and toned, his penis still impressive looking even when it was soft. 

"That dog is so spoiled," you mumbled as you rolled over and started to doze. 

"Yeah, well she's my best friend."

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

Bradley woke up later than normal based on the amount of light peeking in through the windows. He needed to pick Noah up from Penny's before noon which would require driving past your old place which he didn't even like to acknowledge any longer. He watched the way you had your hand resting on his abs as you slept on him, your tits pressed against his side. 

As soon as he started to shift around in bed, he heard Skittles jump up and start to shake her collar. She was the best wing-pup, helping him keep the ring hidden from you last night. He gave her a piece of a leftover meatball late after you fell asleep, and he promised her something special for breakfast, too. And now the ring box was on the top shelf in the closet where you couldn't reach it with his old gym bag in front of it. 

"Daddy," you whined softly when he tried to get up. You wrapped your arm tighter around him. "I'm still tired."

Bradley smirked. "You're a little worn out? From last night, Baby?"

"Yes," you moaned against his chest. "Is that what you want to hear, Bradley? You have excellent stamina, and I'm worn out."

He rolled you gently onto your back and braced himself above you. "Yeah. That's what I wanted to hear." He bent his elbows in a push up position and kissed your forehead, but your hand snaked down between his body and yours and stroked his soft cock. "Not too tired after all?"

"No, I am," you told him as you closed your eyes again, but you were smiling as you kept going. "But I can tell you're not."

Bradley grunted and let you keep going for a minute more before he said, "Then why don't you just lay there and let me do all the work?" He took your smaller hands in his, and you opened your eyes as he pressed your palms to the sides of your breasts. 

"Titty fuck?" you asked quietly, almost shyly. Sometimes it was easy to forget how young you were by how well you rocked his whole world and took care of everything, but he nodded and you bit your lip.

He made sure his voice was gentle even as he positioned himself. "You've never done it before?" 

"No," you confirmed, tilting your head forward to kiss his tip. "But I want to. As long as you do all the work," you told him with a laugh.

"Mmm," he hummed. "My Princess can just lay there and look pretty." He guided your hands so his cock was nestled nice and tight between your breasts, and he started to move. "Damn." 

"Does it feel good?" you asked, your voice lazy as your eyes stayed half lidded. 

"Yeah," he groaned. "Looks hot, too." You giggled softly which only turned him on more, and he pressed his cock down against your sternum with his thumb and fucked your tits a little faster. You kept changing the pressure with your hands, and he could feel his balls starting to tighten as they were treated to the softness of your skin. 

You looked pleased with yourself when after a few more minutes, he was staring down at your face and panting. He was thinking about painting your lips with his cum to make it look like your signature lip gloss. When you spoke, he changed course immediately. "Don't waste it, Daddy. Come in my pussy."

"Shit," he grunted, knowing your words were going to throw him over the edge. He moved quickly, bracing one hand next to your shoulder, easing his body lower on yours, and thrusting himself deep in one go. You squealed and squeezed your tits as he fucked your wet pussy with two more strokes, and then he was coming right where you wanted.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. "Good job."

Slowly, he withdrew himself, and watched his cum seep out of your hole. "I'm sure you're really proud of yourself," he whispered, gently easing your legs together and covering you up again. 

"I am," you whispered, rolling onto your side, full of the mess he made. He kissed your bare shoulder and the top of your back as you sighed. 

"I'm going to feed Skittles, and then I'll go pick up Noah from Penny's. You just relax."

He only got a nod in response, and soon you were sleeping again. With Skittles on his heels the whole time, Bradley got dressed and made his way to the kitchen. "Okay, relax," he told the pup, scooping her up into his big hand so she didn't have to walk across the patio stones to get to the grass when he opened the back door. She licked his face before he set her down, and then she followed him back inside, plopping down near the refrigerator as he turned on the coffee maker. "Spoiled," he mumbled, cutting up another meatball while his coffee brewed, and he dumped it into her bowl. 

He was hungry, but he wasn't going to wake you up again. Not after the night you let him have. He grunted as he poured his creamer into his Aviation is for the Birds mug and got a bowl down for some cereal. The air show was coming up on Saturday, and he was going to need to get himself ready for that. Before he forgot, he ordered a pair of headphones to protect Noah's ears along with some earplugs for you. 

"She thinks I can't use a smartphone," he mumbled to Skittles as she finished her breakfast. Bradley poured a second bowl of cereal and set a few calendar reminders with a smile, and then he finished his food and cleaned up the kitchen. When he peeked in the bedroom, only your head was visible above the bundled up blankets. He grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way out to get Noah.

When Bradley drove past your little rental house, he saw that your idiot landlord must have had a new tenant now. It was strange to see a different car there. It felt like years since he'd been inside with you and Noah, eating spaghetti and falling in love. When he pulled up to Penny's, he parked and headed to the front door. Loud music was playing, and after he knocked, he tried the knob and opened the door a bit. 

Penny, Amelia and Noah were having a dance party in the front room, so he let himself inside. When Noah saw him, he burst into tears. "I don't want to go home!"

Bradley couldn't help but laugh as Penny turned the music down. "This is the first time he's cried," she promised, scooping him up. "Are you just upset because we were having so much fun?" Noah nodded, and she added, "You can come back another day, I promise."

Amelia gave Noah a kiss on the cheek, and then she walked past Bradley and gave him a high five. "If you need me to babysit, let me know. I'm trying to save money before college starts in a year."

"Actually, I could use your help on Friday," he told her, and she paused on her way into the kitchen.

"What time?"

"Five?"

"Sure," she replied, taking out her phone.

"And one more thing," Bradley told her as he took Noah from Penny's arms. "I'm going to need you to go to a local college, because I don't have the energy to look for a third new babysitter."

She kind of smirked, and Bradley was reminded of the way you had tried to hide your lipstick marks on his white pants from her. Then Noah wrapped his arms around his neck and whined. "I want to stay here."

Bradley kissed his son's forehead and said, "But Mommy's at home, and she wants to see you."

"Okay," he mumbled. Honestly, he just looked tired. He'd had a long day at the beach followed by a fun sleepover. "Thanks, Penny."

"Anytime," she replied, stroking Noah's curls and waving as they walked out to the Bronco. 

"Should we stop and get some coffee for Mommy on the way home?" Bradley asked as he pulled away. 

"Yeah," he replied. "She likes it."

"She does," Bradley agreed. "And we like to make her happy." He grinned and had to adjust himself in his jeans as he thought about you all worn out and smiley in bed. Maybe you'd be in the mood for it nice and slow later. How he was possibly still ready for another round was shocking to him. 

At the coffee shop, the baristas all made a fuss over Noah, and Bradley let him put some cash in the tip cup. Then he borrowed a sharpie and wrote Princess on your cup and took it home to you. He and Noah found you in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch, and you immediately stopped what you were doing to pick Noah up. 

"Did you have fun?" you asked, kissing him all over his face.

"We danced," he told you as Bradley set your coffee down. "And I learned a song called Shake Your Groove Thing."

"A classic," you replied with a laugh. "I'll add it to our playlist. I made you lunch." You deposited Noah in his seat, and Bradley watched you set the sandwich that had been cut up into smaller pieces in front of him. Once he started eating, Bradley backed you up against the counter. 

"I don't know what the hell you did to me," he whispered, kissing your ear. "But I'm really looking forward to Noah's bedtime tonight."

You picked up your coffee and took a sip, pressing yourself against the fly of his jeans. "This is really good today. Did you flirt with a barista?" you asked, ignoring his words as your fingers stroked his zipper. 

He grunted. "I told them my Princess only gets treated to the finest things," he whispered as he pressed himself to your palm before walking away to let Skittles outside again. He smiled as you laughed. "Oh, and I got Amelia secured for Friday night, so you and I can go on the hospital tour before the air show on Saturday."

You were all smiles as you said, "I should order some noise canceling headphones for Noah."

Bradley smirked. "I already did."

"Wow, Daddy! Did you use your phone all by yourself?"

"I knew you were going to say that."

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

Bradley slept like a log after he checked to make sure the engagement ring was still secure and then fucked you for a full hour. You were already tired. He knew you were, but he couldn't help himself. It was mostly just you and him having a sweet conversation while he was inside you. He held you in his arms and kissed you. The gentle roll of your hips kept him close to the edge for a long time, but he was able to hold himself off while you enjoyed two orgasms.

When he woke up for work on Monday, he got Noah ready and started getting cereal and fruit out for breakfast while you showered and dressed in your scrubs. "I need a day off," you mused when you walked into the kitchen.

"From work?" Bradley asked, frowning at you as he started up the coffee maker. 

"No," you said, kissing the top of Noah's head. "From you. Don't even ask later tonight."

Bradley was still smiling when he got to work after dropping Noah off. He sent you a dirty text that you'd probably see on your lunch break when he walked into the hangar. That's where he saw Nat with her hands on her hips talking to Javy, and Bradley could tell she was trying not to smile at him. They needed to make things official or stop fucking around once and for all. 

"Morning, Rooster," she called out without even looking at him.

"Did the two of you spend the whole weekend together?" he asked, earning two middle fingers from Nat and a very bashful look from Javy. He would take that as a yes.

As soon as Maverick called him to his Super Hornet, Bradley's phone started ringing. First Bank of San Diego. He ignored the call. It was probably spam since he didn't even have an account with them. As soon as he put the phone back in his pocket, it started ringing again. 

"What the fuck?" he muttered, ignoring the call a second time as he got his helmet on and made his way across the tarmac. He didn't have time to think about it at the moment as now both Maverick and Cyclone were watching him. He'd finally got himself back in Admiral Simpson's good graces, and he didn't want to fuck that up again.

He climbed the ladder up to his jet and silenced his phone to keep out the distractions. He flew with Nat who was extra aggressive, probably because he'd called her out about Javy which just made him laugh. When he checked his phone in the afternoon, he had nine missed calls, two of which were from Tracy's office. He called her back immediately, and when her receptionist answered, he put Bradley's call right through as an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk?" she asked, and Bradley glanced around to find what seemed like every damn admiral on base out on the tarmac today.

"Not really, Tracy. What's going on?"

She sighed. "Can you stop by on your way home from work?" The way she answered his question with another question had him panicking.

"Is this about Meredith?" 

"Yes."

"Fuck! Yes, I can stop by on my way home."

Bradley's heart was pounding as he sent you a text essentially begging you to pick Noah up even though he promised you earlier that he could do it. He knew seeing Casey still grated on your nerves. And maybe he should have told you where he was going and who it was regarding, but he couldn't bring himself to make you worry about Meredith and Tracy right now. He was already doing enough of that for both of you.

Of course, Daddy. I'll pick him up. I love you.

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

Sorry this chapter was so horny. I probably won't change my ways for the next one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 48

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

[azmaranadir]

I've been searching for windbreaker headcanons/smut and I came across ur blog..I love ur writing sm!!😭. And I've also realized that there aren't that much windbreaker content (or I'm maybe looking in the wrong places). I wanted to request Jay Jo smut (I love him😂) if ur not up to it that's totally fine, thank you!

APOLOGY

NSFW 18+ WIND BREAKER, FEM READER X JAY, AGED UP (Even when I think they are like...19?), PIV, SMUT, UNPROTECTED SEX, A BIT FLUFF, BEING CALLED LOVE, A BIT JEALOUSY, HEAVY SMUT, SEASON FOUR SPOILERS? JUST A BIT, NOT MUCH...DON'T READ IT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, I'M NOT SPEAKING ENGLISH FLUENTLY

You were not happy, you were angered, maybe a bit jealous, maybe even furious. Your Boyfriend had seen the girl, you very much dislike; naked. Butt naked, He saw her naked body glitter with water, saw more of her than he probably had seen from you. And that was after she was shit-talking you. Calling you a ‘Back seat Princess’ and now she was seen by your boyfriend, Naked, which was enough to make you want to beat the shit out of him and her.

You could be nice, you could sit down for a few seconds and accept the fact that neither of them intended to see the other naked, but you were childish. You want to be childish, you were allowed to be childish.

You deserve it, after all, it was his fault for looking toward Noah during dinner, with blushing cheeks. Which causes Noah to get red too. It was ridiculous, you were close to scoffing like a child, hissing ‘Look a porn if you want to get wet’. But even for that, you were too angered.

“What’s up with you two?” Dom asked, from the opposite side of you two, brow raised confused as he practically saw the tension between you and Jay. Which causes the latter to flinch and you to chew harder on your fish. You could barely contain the sharp, tight smile that you gave him, hissing through your teeth: “Why don’t you ask her.” You forced through your teeth, glaring toward Noah.

“(Y/N),” Jay whispered, probably trying to soothe your anger, however, it did little, on the other hand, it just flued more anger. “Oh, are you on her side now? Huh?” You barked, causing the table to quiet down, Noah turned her head away from you two, hiding her red cheeks with a curtain of her hair. However, it was enough for you to take notes.

“You know what? I am finished.” You cursed, pushing Jays hand away as he tries to stop you, almost running out of the room.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dom asked deadpanned, earning a deadpan expression from Shelly.

------

The door opens behind you with a swift move, causing your shoulders to tensed as you hear the pattern of his feeds against the Tatami mat. “Love?” He called you. Something you were sure he would never say to you or anyone, but you made the impossible possible. Especially when it comes to Jay Jo.

But you were in no mood to be wooed by that pet name, no, you wouldn’t acknowledge the way your shoulders relaxed when he sat down right behind you, how his knee bumped your back and made you arch your back. And especially not when you feel his breath runs down your neck, leaving you trembling.

“No…No! I am angry!” You scold him and yourself, finger pointed at his face as he sighed unsure. “I’m sorry?”

“You have to do much better than this to make me forgive you!” You growl at him, your back turned toward him again, as your fingers went back to fix your bike. It was wrecked a bit during the race against the Kazuma Crew, nothing major to ask Momoko to fix it, but it kept your mind busy, and your fingers from either killing Noah or Jay.

“I didn’t mean to see Noah naked.” Jay apologized, hand moving your hair away, placing his chin on your shoulder. “Who cares! She saw you!”

Jay stopped in his movements, raising a brow.

“Are you jealous that she saw me in only a towel?”

“100 points nerd.” You scoffed, trying to push his face away from your neck, just to be pulled closer to him, and placed on his lap. The only thing that kept you two separate was the thin fabric of those Kimonos. And they did little to stop his dick to pock your back.

“Maybe I know how to apologized probably.”

-------

“Jay—!” you mewled quietly as his hand found his way to your breast, squeezing the flesh, leaving you breathless. You felt his tip bully the your G-spot, leaving you to squeeze around his length, hoping that he could stay like that forever. “D—D—Don’t stop-mngh—!”

“Mhm?” He pressed his chest against your back, his other hand traveling to your pussy, finding the nub of pleasure to rub, leaving you almost sobbing. “Mh? Why should I stop?” He whispered against your ear, lips nibbling on it. He always did it: breast, clit, ear. Breast, clit ear. He was switching between them as if it were buttons to press in a video game. Leaving you quivering and gasping.

You whimpered his name, trying to keep some decent thought, not everyone needs to know what you and he were doing in your room. No one needs to know what kind of Apology he offers you.

The hand that used to fix your bike was now using the bike as the only thing that kept you grounded on earth. Clenching the metal so hard that it could clench. Your pussy trying to adjust to the size of his cock, his length filling you completely. He was so big, so long, he was so much. Your Walls were burning, and it was so fucking hot.

“Will you forgive me, love?” He whispers in your ear, licking and nipping on your earlobe. “Yes! Yes! I—I forgive you—! Fuck—! Just don’t stop! Please don’t stop Jay!” You begged him, as if you were the one needing to apologize, begging him to make you cum.

He pressed his lips against your wet cheek, using his fingers to roll your nipple between them. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, pressing your face in the crook of his neck, trying to escape those kisses. “Don’t run away.” He huffed, his hand leaving your clit, to hold your jaw at the right angle, everything to kiss you properly. His fingers were coaxed with your juice, leaving an itchy feeling on your skin.

Your cunt was a mess, your thighs were sticky from the amount of times he had made you cum. Your lips were jutting to follow his messy kisses. He was amused, something you would have noticed if your mind wasn’t so full of him. But how couldn’t you? How could you not let your mind get filled by him? When he so genuinely apologizes to you.

“I’m yours…” He whispered.

You took your lower lip between your teeth, nodding your head with your eyes wide open. Loving the way his hair stuck to his forehead, how his cheeks were so sweet pink, and his lips swollen just like yours, from all the kisses. God you love him so much.

“Mine,” you breathed out, trying to meet his thrusts, “Y—Your mine, n—not Noah! Your mine, J— Just mine,”

Jay gave a stoic hum, letting you press your ass on him and swallow his dick whole, his tip pressing against the deepest part of your body. He didn’t even need to hold your waist, he was so good at fucking you with no hands, allowing him to use his hands to pleasure you in other places that would make you lose your mind. “Yours,” slap, “Yours,” slap, “Yours—” slap, “Alone.” He grunts out.

His hand on your breast went back to your mind, as he pulled on your nipples, watching how your lips open to let a loud moan out. You fit in so perfectly in his hands, with your body arching, to search after his hands, then he felt you clenching around him even more, encouraging him to continue his abuse of your nipples.

“Come on love, you will cum for me, right?” He grunts, kissing your lips again, leaving enough spit on them to watch it roll down your jaw to your collarbone, drenching the collar of the kimono. In the heat of the moment, neither of you thought to take it off, only to push it aside. But he likes it: how the kimono barely hides something, and the only thing that kept it together was the small cloth belt that kept it bound around your waist.

Your cunt clenched, chest heaving at the greed in his gaze, his question so hard to understand with the way he filled you to the brink. You only could let out moans and whimpers.

“Right?”

Jay pulled himself away, punished you for not answering him immediately. Your pussy already clenching around nothing, trying to get him back in. Even when his size was stretching you so hard that it could break. You love this burning sensation.

You could feel your back arching, Eyes wide with tears. “Yes! Yes! So close Jay! Ju—Just don’t stop! Please you said you want to apologize! Your mine! Please make me yours too!” You whimper, ass rubbing against him, seducing him to get back in to make you cum.

“You are already mine, love,” he snickered, mouth pressed against your lips again, and swallowed your cries greedily. And with a strong thrust, he pushed back in your pussy, leaving a loud slap echo in the room.

And with this one thrust you were already gushing over him, pushed you over the edge so easily, and already forgetting why you were even angry in the first place.

you only knew that you love the way he apologized.

Jay is also my fav Character.

[martiny0rk]

Son's Game

Summary: What happens when jamie carries your son to his game by himself?

Word Count:792

Warnings: this was wrote before Jamie got resigned.

“i want mommy.” Noah says for the tenth time in the past minute, crossing his arms with a pout on his face, As his bangs kept going into his eyes and had a bright blue hockey jersey which brought out his big blue eyes that He definitely got from his dad.

“i told you, she’ll be here before your game starts.” Jamie says as he starts to tie his sons skates and makes sure they are tied good.

“aww, He misses his mommy?” one of the moms sitting on the bleachers near the rink she asks, obviously eavesdropping on the conversation.

“yeah.” Jamie says, chuckling as Noah buries his face into his chest in shyness. “she had an appointment this morning, but she will be here soon.”

Jamie is uncomfortable with the amount of attention the other moms give him. it’s probably because he always takes Noah to practice, leaving you home to cook dinner and give a quick tidy up or relax while he watches his adorable attempts of skating fast to make the puck into the goal. he loves being involved in his son's life even more so since he was taking a break from hockey.

“will this be his first game of the season?”

“it will.” he says kindly with a big smile as the Canadian in him wouldn’t let him be rude.

“mommy isn’t around much, huh?” the mom still pries, this time directing her question to Noah

Noah sniffles, trying to hold back his cries for a moment, before letting them out, “leave me alone, i want my mommy!” 

“i know, Noah.” Jamie says, shushing her, with a kind voice tries to stick up for his wife . “Noah’s mom, and my wife, is a wonderful mother who is very much invested in her son’s life. She is just also a busy woman, who runs her own business. just because i bring Noah to practice and games, doesn’t give you any right to speculate”

the woman frowns and finally turns away, which does make Noah stop crying, but doesn’t cheer him up enough to do anything but stay close to his dad.

“you better not be pouting over me.”

Noah being the mama’s boy he is instantly perks up at your voice. “mommy, mommy, mommy!” He launches himself at you, and you catch him in a hug.

“hi baby.” you hold him close making sure he doesn’t fall, letting him bury his head into your neck.

“hello, beautiful.” Jamie says as you lean down to give him a kiss. he deepens it with a hand on the back of your neck, hoping that all those other women trying (and failing embarrassingly) to flirt with him when he’s alone with Noah realize how head over heels he is in love with you.

“it’s almost time for your game, Noah .” Jamie says, noticing the other boys warming up.

“okay, daddy!” Noah hops up off your lap, grabbing his hockey stick carefully walking over to his other teammates. 

“i’m so glad i could make it.” you say, running your hand through Jamie’s hair and giving him another kiss as you watch Noah take the ice for warmups.

“me too. He’s so excited for you to watch. doesn’t even care about his dad.” he squeezes your side to show that he was joking. “how was your appointment?”

you’re about to answer when you hear a scoff. you look up, unbeknownst to you it’s the close friend of the woman flirting with jamie earlier. “is there a problem?” you were never one to back down from confrontation.

“appointment? what was this one for? getting your butt done just like your boobs?”

your mouth drops open in shock. you’ve never gotten any cosmetic surgery, but even if you had, it is not this womans business who you’ve never even seen before to comment on it.

“you know, i’m glad you think my natural boobs are so good that they’re fake. it’s a real compliment to me.”

“that’s not-” the woman goes to reply, but you cut her off.

“i bet you’re one of those weird moms who my husband has told me has been attempting to flirt with him and might I added your alittle too old for him. i’ll let you know to back off right now because the appointment i went to was a pregnancy check up. he’s very happy with me. he’s not interested in you.”

Jamie doesn’t even bother to hold back his laugh as she gets up and storms off with her mother gang to the other side of the rink

“she’s got a shit view now.” you laugh, turning your attention back to Noah, completely unbothered by the interaction.

“i love you.” Jamie grins

“I love you more”

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑...

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: confessig feelings, fluff

You dangled your legs off the roof of Noah's house as the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange. Beside you, the boy raised a joint to his lips, exhaling smoke into the cool but not biting evening breeze, that whisked away the tendrils of vapor, leaving only a faint trace of his exhale.

The hoodie he'd refused to put on after the shower he'd taken before going up there lay beside him, even though you'd insisted that if he didn't put on clothes he'd catch a cold, and his bare chest covered in ink rose and fell as he let smoke in and out of his mouth.

"Never have I ever…hurt myself trying to be funny." You said.

You always found it fun to play that game with Noah, since you were kids. The rule was to always tell the truth, as if you were using one of those lie detectors they only used on criminals you saw on TV but sometimes you found yourself wondering if Noah had ever told you a lie during that game that maybe you had become too old for playing.

Noah chuckled, small wrinkles appeared around his eyes. "I bet you already know the answer."

The light from the day's last rays of sunlight reflected off his almond shaped brown eyes, making them appear to be a hundred different shades of gold.

"Oh I know, but I want to hear it from you." You laughed, thinking about what had happened that morning several years ago when you were both little more than children.

"That tree was obviously unstable, it wasn't my fault!"

"That tree was unstable but you tried to climb it anyway."

"Tried? I did it!"

"Yeah and then you fell. And you broke your wrist."

"Yeah but you took good care of by me afterwards. That's when I knew I wanted to keep you."

"Wait, you wanted to keep me? I wanted to keep you so you didn't end up in other similar situations and risk your life every two days."

Noah laughed as he stubbed out his joint butt on the roof of the house before crossing one leg under the other.

"It's your turn." You said.

"I don't know...I feel like I already know everything about you."

"Then ask me something you don't know."

He didn't say anything, as if he was carefully choosing his next question and after a few moments of silence you wondered if he had decided that the game wasn't worth playing anymore.

The birds had stopped chirping and the kids who usually played outside had gone back to their homes.

"Never have I ever...been in love."

Your head spontaneously turned to him but he was staring straight ahead, where the sun was now almost completely gone. His long brown hair still damp from the shower clung to his neck and there hadn't been a moment since he'd stepped out of the bathroom that you hadn't repressed the urge to reach over to brush the dripping strands from his face.

He was pretty, and there was never a moment in your life when you didn't think it.

And you absolutely were in love, probably not from the first moment you saw him because you were too young to know what love even was.

Now you knew.

But he was your best friend.

"No" You lied, "no, I don't think so."

Noah didn't answer, continuing to stare at an indefinite point in front of him. No funny or sarcastic comments, no jokes.

"Noah?"

"It's your turn." He didn't turn to you.

"Never have I ever..." you thought about it for a moment, you had nothing to lose, right? "been in love."

"It's not fair. That's what I asked." He chuckled under his breath.

"I don't think there's a rule against asking the same question." You shrugged.

Noah rolled his eyes, then stayed silent for a few moments, as if thinking about it.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his damp hair, "still am."

You have felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and in your belly. I was a weird mix of fear and hope that you couldn't quite identify.

"Do they know?" You just wanted Noah to be happy, you didn't care if he would break your heart.

"Nah."

"Why?"

Noah snorted. "Because she doesn't like me that way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's never even been in love."

Oh

Noah turned to you, finding your surprised expression.

"Yeah." He chuckled, his laughter was colder and less genuine than usual, "Embarrassing isn't it? I've been waiting for days if not months for the right moment to ask that stupid question during this game and when I finally work up the courage, she tells me she's never been in love. I almost wish you'd told me you were head over heels for that guy who is always flirting with you at the coffee shop. Someone who deserves you. But like this? You make things even more hard because every time I'm around you I can't help but think about what it would be like-"

It was a way to stop his rambling, it was a way to tell him he was wrong, it was a way to tell him you had lied for the first time during the game.

Your lips met his, and your hand found its place in his still-damp hair. The moment was brief, fleeting—already fading as if it had never existed. “I thought… you said…” Noah stammered, taken aback. A faint smile lingered on his lips.

“I lied. I’m sorry, I fucking lied. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, his fingers caressing the exposed skin as your shirt rode up slightly and his soft lips met yours again.

"God, I'm glad."

[v0rewhxre]

Punished (Short Noah Smut)

18+ MDNI

A quick short smutty fiction with a very cold dom Noah Sebastian! Don't ask where this idea came from, just know it came to me sksks. I have a lot of requests that I will be working on throughout the day today!

18+ MDNI

CW: [unprotected p in v, m masturbation, power play, wrist grabbing, m dom, cold dom Noah]

I slowly stumbled into the house at 1 am, trying to be quiet because I knew Noah was sleeping upstairs. It was the first night I had gone out without Noah since moving to California. A few of my coworkers chose an LA nightclub to really immerse me into the nightlife culture. Well, I never really drank so I definitely got way more drunk than I expected. I was embarrassed by the amount of noise I was making, but I knew Noah was a very heavy sleeper.

I climbed into bed, immediately pulled in by arms that were waiting for me, and fell asleep despite the room constantly spinning.

When I woke up I had quite the large cock digging into my back and rubbing against me, indicating Noah was ready for our morning sex session. With a slight groan, I was still half asleep, I shimmied my butt backwards arching so I was easily accessible.

In one smooth glide his cock slipped right into my already wet pussy, filling me up and stretching me. But what was supposed to be slow morning sex turned into Noah pushing me onto my stomach. I turned my head and saw a muscular tattooed forearm and felt his hot breath in my ear. His breath was stinky, but I didn't mind. He set a grueling pace, my back and butt arched even more. I could feel his cock slip even deeper which caused my closed eyes to roll into the back of my head.

"Did you miss me last night?" Noah whispered, nibbling on my ear lobe. I let out a breathless moan as his tongue moved down my neck to my shoulder. He knew his tongue was my weakness.

"Not really, I was only gone for four hours," I said slowly, enjoying the enticing bites he left in the crook of my neck.

Suddenly, the bed shifted to my right and my pussy was suddenly empty. My closed eyes now shot open. I clenched around nothing, letting out a frustrated huff as I turned in bed to look at Noah.

"What are you doing?" I whined.

"Well, you said that you didn't miss me so I guess I didn't miss you either," He pouted as the grip around his cock tightened, his pace picking up.

I watched as Noah pleased himself in front of me, his head fell backwards and his mouth was hung open. His tattooed hand expertly moved up and down, with a slight twist and squeeze at the top which I knew he loved. My pussy nearly caved in on itself at the sight. It was from need, but also extreme jealously. I could feel it pooling in my belly, the anger and rage that accompanied it.

"Noah, what are you doing?" I asked trying to grab his cock from his hands.

He grabbed my wrist, keeping my hand away from his cock which was beginning to pulse.

"I thought you didn't need me anymore, y/n," Noah said through gritted teeth. I knew he was getting close, my clit was begging to be touched. I could feel my pussy dripping on the sheets. Instinctively, my other hand moved to touch myself, but Noah dropped his cock and grabbed my other hand before I could relieve myself.

"Noah!" I yelled locking his eyes in a death glare.

He put my hands together and grabbed both in one hand. This mans hands were huge.

He kept my gaze as he went back to pleasing himself. His pace quickened, earning him a few beads of precum to lubricate himself as he continued. His soft breathless moans turned into loud groans, he was getting close. And my pussy was roaring!

Why the hell does he not want to use me?

What the fuck is his problem?

He knew jealously made me horny, I had admitted that to him the day I caught him masturbating in the shower. It made me feel so powerless and insecure and for some reason that turned me on. My therapist said often times people's kinks correlate to trauma's they had experienced. Noah understood that.

"Noah, pl, please," I begged as I began to let out small sobs. Tears had begun streaming down my face. My pussy was so excited that it was painful. I needed some relief soon.

His cock started to bounce and twitch, his orgasm was imminent. At this point, his eyes were closed and no longer on me. He didn't even care. His stomach was quivering, his movements became sloppy, and suddenly I knew it was too late. I had hoped he would have stopped, purposely edging himself but then using me instead. But he was selfish.

"Noah, please no no no," I said as I watched the strings of cum shoot all over his tattooed stomach. He moaned so loud I thought I was going to cum just from the sound. If I wasn't so mad I probably could have. But I was upset with him. I was actually crying now as I watched him milk his cock until there was nothing anymore.

He waited a moment before moving his gaze to me. The expression on his face was cocky, there was no remorse in those eyes from the incident he just pulled. He simply grabbed a t-shirt and wiped himself off, getting up to go about his day.

Before he stepped outside the bedroom door, he turned and said, "If you touch yourself, I will do that again later. If you use your vibrator I will do that every day for the rest of the week, then you'll miss me," He said before walking away leaving me in practically a puddle of my own mess and tears.

********************************************

Happy Monday!!!!!

[spicywhenspeaking]

But guys…hear me out. (super nsfw under the cut)

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

What if when Noah fucks you he hold your head down onto the pillow. Like a fist full of your hair and just pushing up down into your pillow and you’re drooling because he’s fucking you so hard.

Relentlessly.

hehehe saying that’s you’re being a good slut, taking his cock. He knew he wouldn’t have to prepare you to take his huge dick because you’re a whore that’s always wet for him.

🤭 and he loves to leave marks.

Hand prints, hickies, bite marks

All over you. Inner thighs, butt cheeks, neck, hell! even your back.

The best part is that I think he would REALLY make you work for his cum.

Like you think I’m just going to give you exactly what you want?

Nooo only good girls get their rewards and you’ve been a bad girl haven’t you. You didn’t listen to my instructions hmm? I told you not to touch yourself until I got home. Did you listen??

Of COURSE YOU DIDNT!!!

So you don’t get his hot load inside of you :(

Instead he flips you onto the edge of the bed so he can fuck your face hard and cum down your throat.

But will you really complain!??!

No! Of course not you freaking slut!

(It’s me, I’m the slut)

Anyway….that’s what I was thinking.

[amourtoken]

I can imagine noah just being obsessed, and I mean OBSESSED with your thighs and ass. Like you're just cooking in a kitchen, he's stood behind you, grabbing your butt. Your sat on the couch or anywhere he's squishing your thighs. He also loves to tap your butt to let you know to move out the way (sometimes its a full-blown smack). The way this translates to how he is with you in the bedroom is just brilliant. Dudes got your thighs around his head whilst he's eating you out because he wants to be suffocated by them. He really loves it when you sit on his face, too, because THIGHS. He loves fucking you from behind because he loves to see your ass giggling with every movement. After sex he loves to lay his head on your thighs because they are so soft and cushiony.

Sometimes, he falls asleep eating you out because your thighs are comforting for him.

Sorry, I got carried away. Im also sorry for the messy writing that makes zero sense.

GOD IS GOOD ON THIS DAY I SWEAR-

Noah is borderline harassing you 24/7 bc he loves your thighs and your ass so much

he actually pouts when you don't wear shorts or skirts cause he can't see your thighs like he wants to, bb wants to feel you!!

You have to actively fight him off if you dare to bend over and pick something up bc at this point he'll just bury his face in your ass if you let him he doesn't give a fuck he eats pussy from the back anyway so he can have a better view of your thighs and ass in the first place. You're so perfect he actively feels like his brain short circuits when he sees you from the waist down.

He doesn't care what position yall fuck In tbh as long as he can either watch the way your ass bounces against his hips every thrust or he can have a good grip on your thighs (he uses this to spread you further and fuck you deeper so it's a win win)

he's more than happy to just fuck your thighs too, he can't get enough of watching the way your legs grip his cock and he thinks they're even prettier painted with his cum even tho he hates to waste it by not cumming inside you.

[foliosriot]

Scream

pairing: ghostface!noah sebastian x reader

warnings: talk of death and murder. brief knife-play. vaginal fingering. p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it, my friends). pre-kink. fear-play i guess. let me know if i missed anything else! 18+ only MDNI or i’ll block you.

a/n: (that one tiktok sound like-) “he was the best guy around” “what about the people he murdered?” “what murdahhhh”

tags: @starsomens @fvckmeorchokeme @cncohshit @concretenoah + everyone else who didn’t know they needed ghostface!noah in their lives ;)

masterlist

You will admit: the recent string of murders have had your guts twisted with fear and anxiety. Because what if it’s someone you know next? What if it’s one of your friends? What if it’s you?

It has been terrifying just trying to exist the past week and a half. Three people were already dead, and who knows when the next person would be found mutilated? The last one was just down the street from you, for fuck’s sake! What’s stopping that masked psycho from claiming every other life — including yours — on your street?

Nothing, you’re sure. Serial killers are hardly ever satisfied. And this one is absolutely fucking insatiable.

However, right now, it’s a little hard to think about a psychotic killer with your boyfriend looking the way he does. He’s standing in your little kitchen, a mug of tea in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if you stay over, Noah,” you finally manage to say. Noah had asked if he could stay over for the night what felt like an eternity ago. You had struggled to comprehend what he had said, and were only able to respond when your best friend and roommate, Olivia, had walked up next to you.

“Why not?” Noah asks, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

“There’s a murderer on the loose, remember, dickhead?” Olivia snaps at him. “I would rather not come back to find my best friend all dead and bloody, then adding you into the mix just to make it worse.”

Olivia had a family reunion she had to go to, something that had been planned in advance long before any of the murders had taken place. She wasn’t able to get out of it, nor was she able to convince her parents to let you tag along, even though they love you like you were their own. She was heading to the airport later tonight and coming back in two days.

You watch Noah shoot a glare at Olivia as he says, “Yeah, I’m aware there’s a murderer on the loose. But I, also, would rather not come back here to see my girlfriend dead.”

As Olivia is clearly gearing up to launch herself into a heated debacle with Noah, you stop her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” you assure them, hoping they can’t hear the waver in your voice. “After I take Olivia to the airport I’ll lock the doors and windows, turn off all the lights, then sleep with my dad’s old baseball bat next to my bed. Besides, Noah has a label meeting early tomorrow morning, so he should just head home to get some sleep for once.”

Neither of them look particularly convinced. But the mention of the metal bat seems to be enough for their tense limbs to relax.

This is the exact reason your dad gave you his bat when you first moved out, anyways. He wanted you to be safe and to protect yourself in case of an emergency. And this seems to be an emergency worthy of the beloved metal bat.

Olivia sighs dramatically from beside you. “Fine. The bat is better than nothing.” She returns Noah’s glare. “You better be gone by the time we leave for the airport in an hour.”

Noah clenches his jaw. “Got it,” he says.

With an annoyed grumble, Olivia turns on her heel and stomps towards her bedroom. Your boyfriend and your best friend have never really gotten along, simply because they both want what’s best for you and they both tend to believe they know exactly what that is. They butt heads a lot when it comes to you. Thankfully, they know they can’t have you without the other, so it’s become a resigned acceptance between them, however uncomfortable they may be about it.

You are finally able to relax your shoulders after you hear Olivia shut her door with a loud thud. Olivia is very overprotective of you and would just have you attached at the hip if she could. But sometimes her worry is suffocating. Like now. So you know she just needs a few minutes to herself before she gets on her flight.

“Did you have to be such an asshole?” you say to Noah.

“How was I being an asshole?” Noah fires back as he sets his mug down by the sink.

“You never seem to know when to stop antagonizing Olivia.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried about your safety. She’s not the only one who gets a say in this shit.”

“And you do?” you scoff, resting your hands on your hips. “So would you be okay with me unlocking every door and opening every window? Turn on each light so I’m just a fucking beacon for the murderer to come and get me next?”

Noah narrows his eyes as he stares at you. You’re now beginning to forget any thought of a psycho killer, and instead thinking of letting Noah stay tonight anyways. Let him keep you safe while also letting him do whatever he wants to you. The idea is very enticing.

“But if you don’t want that to happen, just stay the night, ‘cause I know you want to,” you encourage Noah, a small smirk making its way onto your face. “You’ll still be there for the label meeting. Olivia doesn’t have to know. Come over and keep me safe.”

Silence falls around you. Noah just continues to look at you with a dark gleam in his eyes, and you can feel a white hot knot beginning to coil down in the depths of your stomach. You shift slightly under his gaze.

“You’re being a brat.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you spit at him immediately, knowing with 100% certainty that he is going to make you pay for that comment.

“I will if you stop being a fucking brat,” Noah counters sharply. “Unless you want to keep being one, and end up being punished for it.”

You remain where you’re standing. You have zero intentions on obeying Noah, nor do you plan on dropping the bratty act. Noah loves it when you’re being a bratty bitch and defying his orders, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it. You know what it does to him, so why stop?

“Stay tonight.”

Noah doesn’t say anything. His eyes remain fixed on you, and you can feel the searing sensation of his irises roving over every inch of your body. You shift once more, hoping he doesn’t catch the movement, but you know he does.

“Come here.”

His tone is almost casual. It catches you slightly off-guard that he appears to be mildly bored, when he would normally be demanding you to approach. But you’re feeling defiant, because what is he gonna do if he doesn’t get dominant with you?

“No, I’m okay,” you say with a sickly sweet smile. “I’m not feeling very passive at the moment. Thank you, though.”

That earns you a glare. You can see the way Noah takes a grounding deep breath as his gaze darkens even more. You watch him cross his tattooed arms over his chest as he settles his weight back against the kitchen counter. He angles his head downwards, his eyes still trained on you.

God, is he trying to scare you? Because if that’s the case, he needs to rethink his fear tactics.

“I’m not afraid of you, Noah,” you practically scoff at him.

“Have I ever given you reason to be afraid of me?” he asks lowly. The tenor of his voice hums in your ears.

“No.”

Noah doesn’t say anything in response. He just continues staring at you intently, his dark gaze fixed on you wholly. You aren’t able to detect any emotion in his eyes or facial features. If you couldn’t see the subtle rise and fall of his chest you’d think he were a statue — a man carved from marble with numerous, intricate paintings spanning across the beautiful stone.

As the silence drags on you begin to grow uncomfortable. Noah staring at you isn’t what’s causing you discomfort; no, it’s the anticipation and sense of the unknown he’s letting fall over you. You roll your bottom lip into your mouth and begin chewing on the skin.

But then the corner of his mouth twitches upward. The action is sly and riddled with intention.

“Then I won’t start now,” he finally says. “Unless you want me to.”

His word choice is deliberate, each one laced with a level of teasing you don’t think you have ever heard come out of Noah’s mouth. He knows what he’s doing. And he knows it is finally getting to you in the way he had initially wanted.

“So what’s it gonna be?” Noah asks. His voice is firmer as he speaks. “You gonna come over here like a good girl … or will I be giving you a reason to be afraid of me? Either way it’ll be worth it, I’m sure. But hey, your choice, princess.”

Now, there is the commanding voice you had been expecting from the start. And your heart is pumping uncontrollably now. The pulse buried beneath the surface of your neck is throbbing and vibrating, making the blood roar loudly in your ears.

He’s giving you an obvious choice: admit you were being a brat and surrender. Or, run like your life depends on it. Because it might at some point, in a manner of speaking, you realize.

“Oh, but I don’t wanna scare you too bad,” Noah continues nonchalantly, like he’s talking about the weather or something. “Especially with that psycho killer on the loose and everything, y’know.”

You’re gonna kill him. He’s being a complete ass but being so unreasonably cool and collected about it. He knows he’s getting under your skin, burrowing further beneath your veins and tendons. It has you growing enraged and annoyed with his antics, despite that searing hot coil deep in your belly.

When Noah casually pushes away from the counter, you stagger back a few steps. His grin slowly grows as he makes his way in your direction. Your feet seem to be glued to the floor as Noah is now towering over you.

“You’re gonna pay for that, by the way,” he murmurs. He brings his hand up to your face, and grips your chin between his fingers. “But not tonight. You said it yourself, princess: I have a label meeting early in the morning.”

Noah uses his grip on your chin to tug your face towards his. Your lips meet in the middle, and Noah already has his tongue in your mouth before you can process what’s happening. And you have half a brain to kiss him back, but he’s pulled away by the time you manage to catch up. You can’t control the whine that bubbles up from your throat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Noah says with a grin. “I love you.”

Then he’s stepping out of your space and leaving through the front door.

He leaves you breathing heavily. You nearly sprint outside and stop Noah from leaving when you hear someone walking up behind you.

“Oh, good. He’s gone.” Olivia’s voice nearly startles you. “I’ve got my stuff ready so let’s just go now. I don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”

You nod in acknowledgement, but your brain feels fried. Your entire nervous system just got short circuited because Noah thought it would be fun to mess with you. He knows you want him to stay over while Olivia’s gone. And, you know he wants to stay over. So why did he just blow you off like that?

You don’t give yourself time to think it over before you’re following Olivia outside. You let Olivia drown you in conversation on the drive to the airport. She doesn’t appear to notice your weird behavior, or, if she has noticed, she doesn’t mention it.

But then she’s getting out of the car with her bags and you’re hugging her and you watch as she walks inside the airport and leaves you behind.

You feel like screaming.

The drive home feels like a blur. You wish you would be arriving home to see Noah waiting for you, but the house is empty. Annoyance strikes your intestines as you do what you promised initially: lock the doors, close the windows, turn off all the lights, put baseball bat at bedside.

It still feels wrong somehow. You want Noah with you, even though he has that meeting very early in the morning. In order to remedy his absence you tug on one of his sweatshirts before climbing into bed.

The next day drags on. Olivia had texted you when her flight landed and when she was reunited with her family. Noah had sent a good morning text and nothing else. You were growing increasingly angry as the hours ticked by.

You were off work today, so you had the entire day to do what you want. But your brain was vibrating with anxiety and had you stuck on the couch. You were able to get through an entire season of your favorite show, though! It still didn’t feel right.

The sun had long since fallen beyond the horizon by the time you’re rummaging through the kitchen to find something to eat for dinner. You settle on making some mac ‘n cheese, and get to work.

You’re pouring the small pot of hot noodles and water into the colander that sits in the sink when the phone rings. Another thing your dad had insisted on when you moved out: a fucking landline phone. You thought it was ridiculous, but you had humored him anyways by getting one.

With the noodles in the colander and the hot metal pot set aside you reach for the phone. You press answer and stick it between your ear and shoulder as you continue making your dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Can I help you?”

“Who are you?”

“I dunno, who are you trying to reach?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay. Must be wrong number. Don’t worry — it happens.”

You’re quick to transfer the phone back in to your hand and end the call. Dialing the wrong number happens all the time, so the oddity of it doesn’t irk you.

Not until you have the mac ‘n cheese all ready a couple minutes later and the landline rings once more. You furrow your eyebrows as you go to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number again.”

It’s that same voice. There’s a familiarity to it you can’t quite put your finger on.

“It’s alright. I’ll let you go so you can try again. Third time’s the charm, right?”

You’re about to put the phone down when the person on the other end stops you, saying, “Wait! Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?”

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“Just in case I accidentally call you again, of course.”

“Well, I’m confident you won’t. You’ve got this.”

“In the meantime, as I’m trying to remember the correct number, let’s play a game.”

You roll your eyes. “A game? Why?”

“‘Cause it’s fun,” the person says simply. “Plus, I think we’re friends now, so it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

“I guess…”

“Good. Answer a series of questions correctly and you win. Answer incorrectly, and I win.”

“What does the winner get?”

“Whatever they want.”

You consider this for a moment. Because what’s the harm in answering some meaningless questions from a stranger? But you find yourself anxiously rethinking your decision even as you agree.

“Good. I’ll give you a couple warm-up questions. Starting with: do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do.”

“Hm. Pity. What’s he like?”

“First you wanna know about me, and now my boyfriend?” You’re growing more and more irritated with every passing second you are on the phone with this person. “You planning on stealing him from me?”

“No, of course not. Just tell me about him.”

“Oh, my god. I’m hanging up now—“

“Hang up and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

The sheer aggression and violence that ripple through this stranger’s voice forces you to stop. The phone begins to gently rattle against your ear and you can’t suppress the shaking that overcomes your body. Panic is now flowing through your veins as you stand in your kitchen in silence.

“Good girl. Now, where were we? Right: tell me about your boyfriend.”

“Um, he… He has tattoos, a-and he’s really tall. Uh, he— He’s in a famous metal band, and—“

“Yeah? What band?”

“B-Bad Omens.”

“Oh, I know them. Don’t they sing that song Just Pretend?”

You nod, even though you know they can’t see you. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, that’s them,” you murmur.

“Well, let’s start the actual game, shall we? First question: your boyfriend was at a meeting this morning with his band and their label. Who’s their label?”

The question stuns you. You’re suddenly frozen in place and you can’t gather the air in your lungs to even breathe, let alone speak. How the fuck do they know that? Why do they want this information if they obviously already have it?

“S-Sumerian,” you choke out.

“Correct. Next question: what band member left before the production of their second album began?”

You now feel sick to your stomach. You suspect this has to be some crazed fan with an unhealthy obsession with Bad Omens. If that’s the case, they should know already know the answer to this particular question. So why are they asking you?

“Vincent.”

“Good. Final question: where am I?”

“Wh-What? What do you mean where are you?”

“Where. Am. I?”

Dread floods your body. “Are you in my house?!” you practically yell in to the phone speaker.

“Come find out. But if you find me it won’t count as answering the question.”

You’re quick to tear the landline from your ear and jab your thumb against the end call button then tossing it onto the kitchen counter. Your hands are shaking as you take a few steps away from it, silently hoping it won’t ring again.

But it isn’t the phone’s shrill ring that makes you jump. It’s a sound coming from somewhere else in the house.

Your fight or flight response kicks in immediately. You rush to flee through the front door when you hear slow, heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. They sound calculated and deliberate, and you have no choice but to stand there in terror.

From the direction of yours and Olivia’s bedrooms comes a dark figure. They walk out of the shadows and into the dining room. Their body is covered in a black cloak, with a hood up over their head and a white mask on their face. The mask is a simple depiction of a screaming face. But it’s not any less mortifying as you watch them.

The figure comes to a stop when they catch sight of you. Their head tilts to one side, almost they’re considering their next move of action.

But you move first, suddenly booking it for the opposite end of the house towards the laundry room, the extra bathroom, and the garage. You hear them give chase a moment later.

You scramble your way into the garage in hopes of getting the large door to slide open. But the masked figure is one step behind you, and prevents you from hitting the door controls. They have you tripping forwards, and you nearly face plant into the concrete but you catch your weight on your hands. You push yourself up just as the intruder goes to grab you.

Darting around your car, that still sits idly in the middle of the space, you are being taunted by the figure in the hood. They stay near the door back into the house which keeps you on the other side of the car.

Then they’re skirting around the vehicle straight for you. You make a last second decision and make a break for the door inside. The intruder races back after you.

The figure chases you down the hall towards your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut before they can reach you, but you didn’t anticipate their strength. They shove the door open all the way, making you scramble back to your bed. You’re panting as you scoot backwards on the mattress.

The black-cloaked figure says nothing as they slowly stalk towards you. Adrenaline in coursing through your veins and you’re panicking. You are rendered silent as they reach the bed and continue their hunt across the sheets until they’re looming over you. The white mask is haunting as it stares down at you with that soundless wail.

“P-Please… I-I don’t wanna die…”

No response. Whoever is underneath that mask does not seem interested in listening to your pleas.

One of their hands reaches back behind them and reveals a shimmering hunting blade. The metal is clean and shiny, and you can see your fear reflected back at you through it.

Their unoccupied hand goes for your shirt, and you flinch at the contact. Your heart is pounding relentlessly as your shirt is lifted from your body. You couldn’t help but be compliant, especially with how they’ve got you situated between their legs.

You watch as they point the knife at you, then have the fine tip poking at the indent at the center of your collarbones. The barely-there feeling of the cold metal on your skin is sending your brain into overdrive. They then slowly, lazily, drag the blade downwards across your bare chest. You see how they’re clearly enamored by the goosebumps flaring across your abdomen as they continue dragging the knife down, down down…

Suddenly, there’s a hand gripping your throat. But it’s not with the murderous intention you were expecting. Instead, there is almost a gentleness to how their squeezing your neck, with the way their thumb grazes your pulse point.

You’re horrifically confused.

You nearly say something to them, but they’re taking the hand holding the knife to their mask. And then they tug off the black hood and this is the end, oh god—

“Noah?!”

And yes, that is your boyfriend kneeling above you with a wicked grin on his face and a knife in his hand. The terror and anxiety you had been feeling begins to melt away, and you can feel nothing but anger and embarrassment.

“Told you I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?” Noah says casually.

It’s a struggle to comprehend his presence. You can’t understand why he’s doing this or why he thought it was okay with a murderer running rampant.

“Wh-What the fuck?” you stammer.

“Oh, what’s wrong, baby?” Noah takes his gloved hand away from your throat and uses it to brush aside the stray hairs that were clinging to your skin. “I thought you wanted me to stay over? Keep you safe?”

You did want that, yes. But this is not what you meant. Never did you say you wanted Noah to stalk you like he were the predator and you were the prey.

But you can’t stamp down the exhilaration that is igniting your insides. You can’t get rid of it, especially with how Noah is looking at you. You suddenly want to turn in to jelly and be completely and utterly obedient to his every word.

And that sort of terrifies you.

“I-I did, but you didn’t have to do this,” you tell him. Your body is slowly relaxing beneath the weight of his own, now that any imminent danger has been found folly.

Noah looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean?” he asks you innocently. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound.”

Noah begins tracing lines across your stomach and chest with the blade’s edge once more, a careful hold on the hilt in order not to pierce your flesh. The sensation has your brain faltering and not fully processing his words. Your hands inch towards his thighs.

He notices your hands moving in no time. He doesn’t stop you and says nothing.

You slither your hands under the cheap black fabric, and you immediately grip at his legs. You boldly glide your hands upwards until you reach the waistband of Noah’s pants. Noah watches as you tug lightly at one of the belt loops, then going for the zipper.

“Did my little charade turn you on, baby?” Noah moves the knife under your chin and gently pushes up so you’re forced to make eye contact with him. “Did you like me chasing you?”

You nod. And you see him grin.

“Shit, and who am I to deny you?”

But you know Noah. He’s going to tease you and get you all worked up, have you in near hysterics before he finally gives you what you want. And he doesn’t seem to be in a very generous mood at the moment.

Noah drops the knife to pull off the entire costume. He tosses it aside before getting rid of his shirt as well. A part of you knows this is what he wanted from the beginning, when he first offered to sleep over. But you can’t be bothered by that, not when he’s moving back enough to pull down your pants.

When he gets your pants off, and they join the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom, Noah drags his tattooed hands up your legs agonizingly slow. He stops briefly when he reaches the top of your thighs, but then he proceeds to dig his fingernails in to the soft flesh and tugs you towards him. You yelp in surprise and are promptly shut up when you find your legs slung around Noah’s waist and his hand resting at your throat again.

“Good girl,” Noah says quietly. The hand not on your neck has begun making its way to your clothed core, which earns a weak whimper from you. “Are you gonna keep being a good girl for me?”

You whine when his fingers start stroking at you through your underwear. You think you answer him, but you don’t care enough as you are now grinding into his hand.

For a moment, you feel Noah remove his hands from your body. You whimper and whine at the loss of touch, until his hand is back at your throat and there’s a sharp cold resting on your hip.

The knife harmlessly glides against your skin once more. Then the pressure from the waistband of your underwear vanishes, to be replaced by the metallic cold of the blade in Noah’s hand. It slowly travels down past your pelvis, making you jerk in surprise.

Noah chuckles at the way your body reacts. You almost begin bitching at him when the knife disappears and is then substituted for his fingers. And his fingers feel so much better against your folds than that stupid knife could ever dream of.

And he’s just lazily stroking, avoiding slipping any one of his long, tattooed digits inside of you. You try your best to grind back against his hand, but the one at your throat squeezes for just a moment. It makes you pause, whining at the unexpected dizziness you are now experiencing.

Then his fingers are inside you, stroking and rubbing and searching for that bundle of nerves deep within. You cry out at the sudden intrusion. But then you’re pushing back on Noah’s fingers and the pressure on your throat eases a bit.

“Such a good girl,” you hear Noah murmur. “Can you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You nod frantically and he thrusts his fingers harder into your pussy. You’re moaning and writhing at his touch, and then that same pressure is applied once more to your throat and it’s just too much. Your body clenches around Noah’s fingers and you ride out your orgasm as he slows down his strokes.

The feeling of suddenly being empty is overwhelming. But you don’t have to worry about that much longer when Noah maneuvers your body off of him and onto your stomach. You feel the bed shift as he moves, and the sound of him taking off his pants has you gripping at the sheets.

Then the bed dips from Noah’s weight and he’s suddenly right above you. His bare legs are caging in your thighs and his hands are gently roaming over the expanse of your back. You can feel his cock against your ass; it takes a little too much self control to not push back into him, although you end up failing.

“You look so hot like this, baby,” Noah says. His hands halt at your hips, and he’s digging his fingertips into the bone. “So, so good for me.”

Noah doesn’t hesitate when he begins pushing his hard cock into you and using your hips as leverage. You’re crying out and moaning weakly as he adjusts slightly and then bottoms out.

There isn’t any warning given before Noah is pulling out just enough then slamming back in. He sets a brutal but steady pace as he fucks you. Your knuckles are whitening from your tight grip on the bedsheets. You quickly become a moaning, blubbering mess beneath Noah as he keeps going and going.

He keeps hitting your cervix perfectly and it makes you see stars. His hands on your hips is currently the only tether you have on reality.

Suddenly there’s a hand in your hair and it tugs at the roots until you prop yourself up on your elbows. Noah’s grip on your hair is sending spikes of pain from your scalp all the way down to your shoulders. But each thrust of his hips is another tug on the strands of hair entangled in his fingers. It’s a mashup of sensations that has you chasing your high again.

“Ah— Ah—“

God, you’re so close. You need to cum so fucking bad.

“Ah, Noah—“

“Come on, baby,” Noah breathlessly encourages you. “I want you to cum with my name on your lips.”

And with that, your pussy is clenching around him and you’re coming with a cry of his name. Then his thrusts get sloppier until he’s coming inside of you. You feel all warm as you are filled with nothing but Noah.

Noah then pulls out and the feeling of his cum dripping out of you is definitely the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His hands are then forcing you to turn over and rest on your back. He straddles your weak body, and the sight of him above you like that makes you want to go again.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he says quietly. His chest is heaving as he drags one of his hands upwards, starting at your stomach and stopping at your tits. He palms one then the other, playing with each for but a moment. “Always so good for me, baby.”

Silence settles over you while Noah continues to just touch you. It’s calming and has your eyelids growing heavy.

But there’s still something that is gnawing at your brain. And you have to say something.

“Are you the killer?” Your voice is fragile when you verbalize your question.

It doesn’t seem to bother Noah, though. His hands are still wandering and touching you as he seems to process what you said.

“Yes. Does that scare you?” he replies. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and the dark glint has your heart pounding. “Do I scare you?”

You don’t have an answer for him, so you remain quiet.

“Are you afraid of me?”

He’s referring to what you had talked about yesterday. A part of you wants to yell out and tell him you are utterly terrified of him, that you cannot fathom the horrific atrocities he has committed. You can’t stand the thought of how much blood stains his hands. The hands that are touching you, caressing every curve…

“No,” you whisper.

Noah’s mouth twists into a lopsided grin. Your answer seems to satisfy him, and you can’t help the satisfaction you also feel spreading throughout your chest.

“Good. I would never want you to be afraid of me,” he tells you as he leans down so your faces are parallel. “You’re mine. And I’ll get rid of anyone that thinks they can take you from me.”

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated :)

a/n: happy halloween, my fellow noah whores >:))

[ataliagold]

Keep Me Afloat

For @astrangersummer week 8 prompt 'ocean waves.' Title from Passenger by Noah Kahan.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: G

W/C: 1723

Tags: post-Vecna, established Steddie, Steve is self-conscious about his scars, Eddie loves every part of him, minor angst, emotional hurt/comfort.

Summary: Standing in ankle-deep water watching his friends enjoy a summer beach day, Steve looks down at himself and hates what he sees.

___

“You ok?” Robin murmured to him, hand on the small of Steve’s back, on the one small spot of skin unmarred by the now mostly-healed grazes on his back.

“Mmm hmm,” Steve said through tight lips, arms curled over his stomach.

Robin looked at him, eyes falling to where his hands were folded against his sides, against the extensive scarring there. “The kids don’t care, you know,” she said quietly.

Steve scoffed, something bitter and sad. “Yeah. I do, though.”

Ahead of them, the kids were shrieking in chest-deep water, Mike yelling as Lucas dunked him under a wave, Dustin pointing and laughing until he received the same treatment, resurfacing with an angry splutter and splashing water at Lucas.

Max and El were on the shore, Max’s chair parked up on a flat bit of sand, El content to sit beside her and watch their friends’ antics.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle were wandering to the other end of the beach, scouting out the possibility of an ice-cream stand down there.

None of them were even looking at Steve, at the state of the ugly scars across his skin, but it didn’t matter.

Steve was aware enough of them for everyone.

Robin dragged her foot through ankle-deep water. “It’s warm,” she commented, tone light. “Do you want to go in?”

He did.

He’d love to swim out past the kids, let his feet lift off the sand, allow the water to carry him out deep until he could just float under the warm sun and not think about anything for a while.

But he didn’t think he could.

Even now, with the water gently pulling at his toes, sucking at the sand below his feet, his heart rate was picking up.

Try as he might, he couldn’t help but think back to Lover’s Lake, to freezing water rushing into his lungs, to the slimy grip on his ankle that had pulled him down to hell.

Swallowing thickly, he shook his head.

Robin nodded, small and sad. “Eddie’ll be here soon,” she said, trying to cheer him up.

Steve managed a small smile at that. Of course Eddie had overslept for their beach day, leading to a rehash of their plans when Dustin had rung Steve complaining that Eddie hadn’t picked him up as planned.

He was arriving now, though – Steve heard the whine of his van coming to a slammed halt in the parking lot even from where he was standing in the shallows.

Eddie tumbled out, towel in hand, and grinned when he caught sight of Steve, raising his hand in greeting.

Steve smiled softly, a wave of fondness rushing over him.

Robin shook her head, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling too. “Here’s your knight in shining armour.”

Eddie tore his shirt off on his way to the water, balling it up and tossing it at Max who responded by grabbing the towel in her lap and snapping it against his ass. Shrieking, Eddie swore, clutching his butt with one hand as he ran the rest of the way over the hot sand.

Eddie wore his scars unashamedly.

They were in full view for everyone to see – the skin on his sides and torso left puckered and twisted, tattoos warped and some unrecognizable where flesh had been stripped. They were worse than Steve’s – the bats had bitten deeper, had had far longer to chow down on him than they had Steve.

But Eddie bared himself easily, confidently, and Steve burned with jealousy.

He’d asked Eddie, once, on a particular night curled up together on the couch when Steve had been feeling small. How he did it, how he didn’t care if people stared, how he wasn’t so…self-conscious.

Eddie had looked down at him through heavy lashes, had brushed his fingertips over Steve’s t shirt above the scarring on his back. “People have always stared at me, Stevie,” he murmured eventually. “Because of my clothes, my hair, because I play D&D, because I’m too loud or too…weird, or because I’m the Devil, I’m a murderer, whatever it is people think…I’ve been stared at and looked down on my whole life, I learnt to stop giving a shit what other people thought a long time ago.”

Steve had tried, he really had. Tried to be more like Eddie, tried to not worry about what other people thought of his appearance. But truthfully…his appearance had always been important to him. He was supposed to be strong, fit, athletic…the King of Hawkins High, once.

Not this pale, gaunt, chewed up and spat-out version of himself.

Eddie reached him with a loud splash, showering cool droplets across Steve’s thighs and stomach. He shivered lightly.

“Sorry,” Eddie panted, “got here as quick as I could. That little shrimp complain much?” he gestured ahead to Dustin.

“Only the whole way here,” Robin replied. “You’re lucky Nance had room in her car for him too.”

Eddie turned his gaze to Steve, smile quickly fading, replaced by a frown. “Stevie, you ok?” he asked gently, squeezing his upper arm.

“I’m gonna go check on the girls,” Robin said, making a strategic exit back towards Max and El, leaving Eddie and Steve alone in the water lapping at their feet.

“Hey, what is it?” Eddie breathed, stepping closer, trying to catch Steve’s eye.

But Steve kept his gaze fixed on the tiny waves, watching them break and recede again. “I’m fine. Just…you know.” He gestured down at himself, then quickly folded his arms back across his stomach.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured, hands coming to rest on Steve’s arms, not pulling them away but just holding. “You’re with friends here, ok? No one minds, no one’s looking. Well, except me, because you’re my boyfriend and you’re hot as hell and I never want to not be looking at you, but…”

One side of Steve’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Here.” Eddie coaxed one of Steve’s hands into his own, tugged him gently towards deeper water. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

Steve followed him, because he’d follow Eddie anywhere.

He sucked in a breath as the water climbed higher, over the top of his waistband, up to his chest.

“Eds,” he said eventually, breath coming faster as the water approached his shoulders. “S’deep enough.”

Eddie stopped, turning to face him, hair falling wetly around his neck. Despite Steve’s half-hearted protest because what if someone saw, Eddie pulled Steve to him, hands resting under the water on his hips, cold thumbs rubbing circles across the scars there. Although he was nervous at being in the deeper water, Steve was a little relieved to be out here, where the water covered his scars completely.

“You’re beautiful,” Eddie whispered to him.

“Eds…” Steve started, looking away.

“No.” Eddie brought one hand to his chin, keeping Steve’s gaze on him. “You are. I know you don’t like your scars, shit, I don’t like my own either. But they’re a part of us now, ok? And you know what?”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, but Eddie waited, eyes wide and earnest until Steve muttered,

“What?”

“They mean we survived. We took everything that fucking place could throw at us, and we made it out, and those kids -” Eddie pointed across the water to the boys playing in the waves. “ – they’re alive because of you.”

“And you,” Steve murmured.

“Sure. And me. And I know it’s gonna take some time, Stevie, but please don’t think you need to hide around us. Your scars are part of you, and everyone here loves you.”

Steve took a shaky breath, hand grasping for Eddie’s under the water, holding it tight. “They’re so…they’re so ugly, Eds,” he whispered, looking down at himself.

“Steve,” Eddie said, with a ghost of a smile, “you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Scars and all, sweetheart, so please don’t say that.”

Steve floundered a little for something to say, feeling vulnerable under Eddie’s steady gaze.

“Do you think my scars are ugly?” Eddie tried.

Steve shook his head quickly. “No.” Because they weren’t, not to Steve. Eddie was badass, he’d gone through hell and been on death’s door for way too long and gone through a grueling recovery and Steve had kissed every one of his scars, he’d never dream of calling them ugly. They were Eddie.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

Eddie leaned in closer, forehead almost brushing against Steve’s. “When you see my scars, what do you think?”

“I think…I think they’re just…part of you, I love you, they don’t…they don’t matter to me,” Steve stammered, a wave of emotion rising up in his throat because he knew what Eddie was doing. “I don’t care how they look, and I love that you can be so confident about them, but I…I can’t do that. With my own. Not yet, anyway.”

Eddie’s brows knitted together. “Try, for me? Just for today. Try and see yourself how you see me.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I…I’ll try.”

Eddie’s smile was reward enough.

Later, Steve lay on the beach bracketed by Eddie and Robin, stretched out under the sun while the kids exhausted themselves in the waves. He’d still tense up whenever someone else walked past him on the sand, still automatically go to throw an arm across his stomach, but that was ok. It was a start, and just the fact that he was lying there with his shirt still off was progress.

Eddie squeezed his hand whenever he could, fed him with small smiles and soft glances, while Robin kept up a steady stream of chatter that helped distract him.

By the time an ice cream run had been completed, by the time Lucas had talked some other beach-goers into borrowing their volleyball net, Steve was feeling…ok. Not his old self, not by a long shot, but it was getting gradually easier to forget about his scars for a short time and just enjoy himself.

And when he leapt into the air to slap the ball back over the net to Lucas, when he turned to see Eddie’s hot and heavy gaze locked on him, Steve even managed a small smirk in his direction.

He’d get there, he thought. Day by day. And Eddie would be there with him every step of the way.

___

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 41 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley really does have to work late, you spend a fun evening with Noah, but Bradley starts to realize all the ways his life is holding yours back when you go out with friends. Then as soon as you let Bradley see you in your formal dress, he wants to take it off of you. In fact, it'll be a miracle if the two of you make it through the retirement party at all.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, spitting, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Your phone screen lit up with a call from Bradley just as you shoved the last bite of your sandwich into your mouth while you were typing up a patient's chart. "Hello?" you managed while you chewed.

"Baby, I'm going to be late today. For real," he said, sounding a bit cautious. "Here, talk to Nat. You're on speaker."

"Hi," came his best friend's voice as you finally swallowed. "He's stupid and annoying, but he's not lying. We're staying late with the new mechanical crew to learn about an update."

"I'm assuming you're calling to make sure I can pick Noah up?" you asked as you smiled. It almost made you feel good that Bradley was being so cautious this time around. 

"Yeah. Can you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, perfect. I know I've been asking a lot of you," he said, his voice soft and deep. "But I trust you with everything. And I'll make it up to you."

Now you were smirking as you looked around to be sure none of your coworkers were around. "Are you going to make it up to me in our bed or in the shower, Daddy?"

He made a strangled noise and you heard Nat shriek in the background. "Baby, I said you were on speaker," he whispered. "Well, now you're not."

You had to stifle your laughter as you said, "I need to go. I'll get Noah from daycare. And then I'll try my pretty dress on for you if you're good, Daddy."

"Fuck," he muttered. "Yeah, I'll be good. I'll be so good."

You had to squeeze your thighs together at the prospect of making him beg. The retirement party for Admiral Bates was just a few days away, but you hadn't let Bradley see you in the purple dress yet. For the past few days, ever since you told him what Casey said to you, Bradley had been letting you hold all the cards. When he came home from work that day and told you that Casey shouldn't be a problem for you anymore, you gasped. He told you what he'd said to her, and then you gave him a blowjob. 

"I'll see you at home later tonight," you told him softly. "In my pretty Princess dress."

"I can't wait."

"Oh, and don't forget I have happy hour with my work friends on Thursday."

"I'll make absolutely certain I leave work on time on Thursday," he promised.

When you made it to the preschool to pick Noah up, you smiled at Casey. "Oh, hi. I'm here for Noah," you told her, annunciating each word like she was very stupid. She rolled her eyes and handed you the clipboard as you asked, "No bakery box today?"

She didn't acknowledge you or say a single word as she walked to the classroom door and went inside. You filled out the sheet on the clipboard, smiling as you saw Bradley's signature from earlier this morning. Then Noah came streaking out toward you. "Can we take Skittles on a hike?" he asked as he ran into your arms. 

"Of course," you told him, kissing his soft curls as you practically threw the clipboard at Casey and led Noah outside. "Daddy will be home late, so we can do whatever we want."

His face lit up as you buckled him in his car seat. "Can we get ice cream?"

You pretended to consider your answer before saying, "Of course we can get ice cream!"

You drove home with the windows down and the kid friendly playlist on. When you stopped at a traffic light, you turned around to sing along with Noah. And when you parked your car in the driveway, you carried him inside while you sang the dinosaur song together. 

"I love you so much," you told him as he wrapped his arms around your neck. You unlocked the front door and went right to the crate in the kitchen. Skittles was looking up at the two of you with the biggest, sappiest brown eyes you'd ever seen. Well, other than the ones the Bradshaw boys frequently gave you. 

Noah squirmed out of your arms and went to open the crate door just the way you showed him how. He was so gentle with the little pup, and she whimpered and whined until she was able to lick Noah's hands and face. "Come on, Skittles," you called as you opened the back door. She limped her way across the kitchen floor, and you had to force yourself not to pick her up since she was supposed to be moving around on her own. It was bad enough that Bradley carried her around all the time. She looked at you, and you bent to ruffle her purple bow before she wandered outside to the grass. 

"Should we go get ice cream first and then eat dinner after that?" you asked Noah with a smile.

"Yeah! We can pretend it's opposite day!"

"Great idea."

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

When Bradley got home, he was irritated. The mechanics took forever to get everything in order so he could sign off and leave for the day. The downside of being responsible for his jet was that he was really responsible for every little detail. When he let himself inside, he could hear the bath water running and laughter coming from the bathroom. 

He poked his head inside to find you kneeling on the floor next to the tub while Noah played, and you were both giggling. Skittles perked up and ran for Bradley, and then Noah saw him too. "Daddy!"

You whipped your head around to face him with a bright smile on your gorgeous face. "Hi, Daddy. You'll never guess what today is."

"Tell me," he said as he walked in still wearing his flight suit and boots, scooping Skittles up in one hand. He knelt on the mat next to you with a soft groan and then buried his face against your neck with a little nip. "I'm dying to know," he whispered as he kissed your ear. Then he reached for Noah and kissed his wet cheek as you turned the water off. 

"It's opposite day!" Noah exclaimed. "The water is dry, and I don't like dinosaurs," he said before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

"Opposite day?" Bradley asked, pretending to need help with the concept while Skittles licked his face. "Can I have another example?"

"We had ice cream before dinner!"

"Noah," you scolded playfully. "You weren't supposed to tell him that!" You eyed Bradley sheepishly. "We did end up eating dinner... just after dessert."

He kissed your cheek. "You're the best Mommy ever. You make everything fun."

"Were you good today?" you asked softly while Noah claimed all of his rubber duckies were sinking when they were clearly floating. 

"So good," he promised. The way you bit your lip reminded Bradley that it had been a few days since you and he had sex. He thought maybe you were ovulating, but it didn't really matter. He needed to do a better job of keeping you full regardless. 

Things had just been a bit hectic, and the tiny dog in his hand was evidence of that. If you got pregnant, things would get even wilder around here, but he didn't mind it. He actually craved it at times. And when he reminded himself that he finally had a teammate in you, things always felt manageable. 

"I have an idea," he said as you washed Noah's hair. "After this, I'll get Noah in bed and let Skittles out one more time, and then you can take your time getting ready while I get a shower."

You nodded. "Did you hear that, Noah? It's time to wake up instead of go to bed."

He laughed again. "Will you read me a good morning story?" he asked Bradley.

"Absolutely, Bub," he replied. "I mean... no, I won't? Opposite day is confusing."

When he got Noah to change into pajamas under the guise that he was really getting dressed for daycare, Bradley heard you get into the shower. Once Noah was tucked in, he took Skittles outside. The bedroom door was closed, so you must be in there putting on your purple dress for the retirement party. He couldn't wait to see it.

Bradley got in the shower and took his time, but he was yawning almost nonstop. He needed to get it together so he could fuck you if that's what you wanted. He'd made a lot of promises about that kind of thing, and he didn't want his age to start catching up with him. "Shit," he mumbled as he toweled his hair off before wrapping it around his waist. 

But he shouldn't have worried. As soon as he walked into his bedroom, Bradley stopped short. You were bending and petting Skittles in her little dog bed, but you really did look like a princess. 

"You're wearing your crown," he rasped, and you stood to your full height and turned to look at him. "Jesus." The purple dress was indeed two pieces, and the top was beaded and very tastefully showcased your tits. Then the skirt was some sort of sheer flowy materials in a million layers, and Bradley wanted to run his hands all over it. But not as much as he wanted to run his fingers along the strip of your skin that showed just above your belly button. 

"You like it?" you asked, twirling for him as you brought one hand up to hold your paper crown on your head. "You paid for it," you said with a laugh. 

The fabric of the skirt swung around your body and moved with you. Bradley was entranced. "Yeah, I like it," he whispered. "Everyone else at the retirement party is going to like it too." Maybe a little too much, but there was nothing to be done about it now. And Nat was right when she'd said you would look incredible next to him in his dress white. "Fuck."

"Daddy," you gasped, looking up at him as his towel fell away from his waist. He was half erect, and he hadn't even touched you. All he had to do was look at you or smell you, and he was ready to go. 

You were standing very close, but you didn't let your hands meet his body, and you seemed too perfect right now for him to touch you without permission. Just like actual royalty. "Princess," he whispered as you licked your lips. "Will you let me pull that pretty skirt up and fuck you?"

In response, you brought your hands up to your hips and jutted your chin in the air. "That was very lewd, Daddy." He grunted as the fabric of your skirt brushed along the head of his cock. He could smell your body wash as you ran your hands up to your top and over your breasts. He could practically taste your pussy as his mouth watered. "You better start begging."

Your gaze followed him as he slowly dropped to his knees in front of you and buried his face in your skirt. He kissed the soft layers as he asked, "Please, Baby? I'll do anything you want. Just let me have your pussy. Please."

You brought your fingers up to stroke his cheek and run your thumb across his lips. "You can do better than that."

His cock was throbbing now. "Anything you want. I'll get you off just right. You know I will. I'll worship you." He kissed the soft skin just below your beaded top with the gentlest touch of his lips, and you moaned his name.

Bradley kissed and nuzzled his nose against you, whispering please over and over again before you finally said, "Stand up." He was on his feet immediately, cock at attention and cheeks warm. "Don't mess up my dress," you told him, running your fingertips along his abs as you walked over to the bed. You bent at the waist with your arms and cheek pressed to the soft bedding. You looked so innocent and perfect with your teeth digging into your glossy lip, but you sounded dirty as hell when you said, "Come fuck me, Daddy."

Bradley growled as he reached for your hips through all the layers of your pretty skirt. He forced himself to go slow, pushing the fabric up inch by inch and savoring the way it felt in his hands. Eventually your perfect thighs gave way to your wet pussy, but then Bradley's head tipped back as the most ridiculous noise escaped his lips. 

"Baby," he moaned, rubbing his cock all over your ass and through your wet warmth as you gasped and grabbed at the bedding. You were wearing your purple plug and puckering around it beautifully. So needy, the way you were grinding forward against the edge of the bed. "This is fucking gorgeous," he crooned, gently pushing on the base of the plug and giving you more pressure. 

You rolled your hips back against his hand and raised up on your tiptoes. He knew you wanted your pussy full as well as your ass, and he was going to give you his cock and his cum. Eventually. But first he knelt behind you as you whined, and he pinned your hips in place. "Bradley," you gasped, trying to fight the hold he had on you, but he wouldn't allow it. With your voluminous skirt pushed up to your waist, Bradley kissed you from behind and swiped his tongue through your wet folds. 

"Oh," you gasped loudly, trying to thrust back to meet him.

"Shh," he warned, pressing your plug with his nose. "I'll fuck you just right, but I want you to cum on my mustache first."

It took almost no time, not with how sensitive you were. He debated edging you until you squirted for him, but he figured it was better to ruin the dress after the retirement party. So Bradley ate your pussy like the meal it was until you were on the verge of tears. Every long stripe of his tongue had your legs shaking a little harder. He just wanted a little more before he let you come. So he licked up to your plug and spit, watching his saliva drip back down to your pussy as he finally let you have a little pressure on your clit with his middle finger. 

"Daddy!" you nearly screamed as he rubbed you with steady circles. Your hips jerked as you got his mustache even wetter, crying out against the bedding. But Bradley didn't stop the motion with his middle finger. He kept going as he stood and smiled at your face buried between your fisted hands. 

"That's a good girl. Keep nice and quiet." 

He fucked you, bending over your body and gently kissing your back as he rammed himself deep a few times. You felt somehow even fucking tighter when you were wearing the plug, and Bradley made sure he pressed it deeper as he railed you. 

When he kissed your shoulder, your pussy clenched around him. He wasn't even sure if you were still on your first orgasm or if you'd started to come again, but either way, he felt like your knight right now. When you turned your head to take a deep breath, your crown rolled off, and Bradley watched you look back at him as he fucked into you and bottomed out.

"Am I allowed to come, too?" he grunted, leaning in and licking at your glossy lips. 

"Yes," you whispered, kissing his tongue before he stood at his full height, grabbed you by your hips and thrusted and unloaded. 

Bradley ran one hand up along your beaded top, stroking your bare skin when he came across it. He listened as you hummed and laughed softly while he looked at your purple outfit, your purple plug, and your purple crown on the bed. He'd never had anything so bright in his life before you. 

"Don't mess up my dress," you reminded him, and Bradley just stood there with his cock still inside you and his hands full of fabric. 

"Well, what do you suggest I do back here, Princess?" he asked as you giggled and reached your hands back to hold some of the fabric. You bunched it up higher as you slowly stood, and then Bradley could feel the cool beads of your top against his abs and chest. 

"I think it's safe," you whispered. Bradley withdrew himself, and with a grin, he dropped to his knees behind you. He watched his cum drip down your inner thighs, and when you tried to press your legs together he told you no.

He shoved his hand between your thighs and whispered, "No, it's too pretty," as his semen dripped right from your pussy to his palm. "God, it's so fucking pretty." He kissed along the backs of your legs and the base of your plug, but he didn't move his hand until his palm was coated. 

When he stood again, he whispered, "I'll go get a wet washcloth so I can help you get undressed." But before he could leave the room, you met his eyes and raised his hand to your lips to kiss his cum covered palm and swiped your tongue through it. "Oh, shit," he groaned, watching as you cleaned him up. "How's that taste?"

"Mmm," you hummed, licking your lips. "Good. Like me and you."

His mouth was on yours immediately, needing to taste it for himself as he wrapped his still wet hand around the back of your neck. His tongue met yours, and he tasted himself there along with the sweetness of your pussy. "God damn, Baby. I hope I can keep up with you."

You nodded as he pressed some soft kisses to your lips. "You always do."

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

On Thursday, you were getting ready for happy hour with your coworkers when Bradley walked into the bedroom. "You look pretty," he said as you applied some of your lip gloss. You smiled at him in the mirror, and he walked a little closer. There was something about you this week that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he had the urge to fuck you nearly nonstop. 

"Thanks, Daddy," you sang as he rubbed his hand along your lower back. 

"Hey," he whispered, letting his lips meet your ear. "You think we have time for a quickie?"

You knew. You must have known by the way you were smiling. He literally couldn't keep his hands off you. "You just like calling me your little cream donut," you replied, but you didn't say no. 

"I really do," he said, reaching for your jeans zipper, but you took his hand in yours and pulled it away. 

"We don't have time," you scolded, kissing his lips and lacing your fingers with his. "You need to get Noah in the car so you boys can drop me off."

"Who's driving you home again?" Bradley asked, needing to be sure you wouldn't get in the car with anyone who'd been drinking. 

"Sarah," you told him, cupping his cheek gently. "She's seven months pregnant. The hardest thing she'll be drinking is ginger ale."

"Alright," he agreed, letting you finish up as he put Noah in the Bronco. Then he drove you and dropped you off at a trendy looking bar in the Gaslamp Quarter which was filled with people your own age. 

"Looks like a bunch of hipsters," he mumbled as he parked in the loading zone at the curb. He could almost imagine Greyson and his idiot friends hanging out here, and he reached for your hand. 

You laughed as he kissed your fingers. "Everyone under thirty looks like a hipster to you. And I mean that with love."

"You don't look like a hipster," he said, brow furrowed as he looked at your hand and briefly wondered why he hadn't taken the time to buy you a ring yet. 

"I see them," you said, pointing out the window before you leaned in to peck his lips. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home." Then you crawled halfway over the seat and kissed Noah who was already yawning. "Night, sweet Noah," you whispered before kissing Bradley one more time and hopping out. 

He watched you wave to the group of other nurses he'd met briefly. All of them were around your age, and sure enough he saw Sarah with her pregnant belly. He looked at your elegant body; you looked so damn young, but you seemed older than twenty four. And you'd look just right with a belly like that. Bradley groaned and put the Bronco in drive when he saw a group of guys walk toward you and your coworkers as you were about to head inside the bar. You ignored them in favor of waving to Bradley, and he did you the service of waving back before he started driving home. 

You trusted him, and he trusted you. That was all there was to it. He refused to let Casey try to upset you with her bullshit, and you wouldn't chat up random guys. 

"I miss Mommy," Noah said as he yawned again. 

It had literally been five minutes since you got out of the Bronco, but Bradley honestly said, "Me, too." 

And he felt like an idiot after he let Noah eat the ants on logs you left for them. It was nights like this when he started to feel like he was holding you back. He still had engagement rings open on his phone internet tabs, and he knew you'd say yes when he asked. You and he had talked about forever. But these nights out would become almost nonexistent if you got pregnant and there were two kids to look after. 

Noah whined for you at bedtime, and Bradley had to bribe him with extra books since he couldn't have another goodnight kiss from you. Luckily that kid was usually asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but once he was out, Bradley was left alone with his thoughts. He tried to watch TV and even attempted a nap on the couch until you got home. He ended up drinking a beer and holding Skittles on his lap as she licked at the condensation on the bottle. 

"You are begrudgingly very fucking cute," he told the pup as she curled up on his thigh with her casted leg sticking out straight. He petted Skittles until she was sound asleep, her body rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. Bradley finished the beer as he tried not to think about you, which only made it worse. But he kept telling himself you wouldn't still be here right now if you didn't want to be. You'd stayed through Meredith and all of Bradley's bullshit, and you were still here now.

His phone vibrated with a text. My Princess: I'll be home soon!

Home. It was your home, too. You belonged here. So maybe he was supposed to miss you a little bit on nights like this. Perhaps it was normal to notice that your warmth was missing from the room. 

He closed his eyes, about to doze off, when twenty minutes later, you came bursting through the front door. Skittles carefully jumped off his lap and ran to see you as you pulled your shoes off. You looked a little exasperated as you bent to pet the dog before heading his way. 

"Did you have fun?" he asked, about to stand, but you headed right for his lap.

You groaned and settled in so you and he were chest to chest and you tangled your fingers up in his hair, your purple painted nails grazing his scalp. "Everyone my age is exhausting," you said before claiming his lips.

He rubbed his hands up your thighs and smiled against your lips as he asked, "You prefer the older crowd?"

You kissed the side of his neck and yawned before letting your cheek rest on his shoulder. "You know I do. I'm crazy about you and your checkbook and your inability to use a smartphone correctly."

"Well you came to the right place," he whispered. "I have all of the old man shit for you right here."

You giggled before kissing his neck again. "I love you."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and held you close. This is where you belonged. "I love you, too. You want me to take you to bed?"

You yawned again and said, "I was thinking about you all night, you know? Dirty stuff."

"Dirty stuff?" he asked as you nodded. 

"Mmhmm. You wanna fuck a baby into me?" you asked as your fingers loosened in his hair and your hand came to rest on his chest. "We could do that," you murmured, your lips moving along his neck. "If you want."

Bradley chuckled and held you a little tighter. As much as he loved fucking you, he loved taking care of you even more. "Let's go snuggle, Princess." He scooped you up and carried you to bed where you immediately fell asleep in his arms.

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

"This was not a good idea," Bradley murmured as he paced around his living room in his dress whites with his uniform hat in his hands. When he peeked out the front door, Amelia Benjamin was holding Skittles on a leash, and she and Noah were blowing bubbles. He checked the time and groaned. "Such a bad idea."

He could hear laughter coming from his bedroom, and he had to fight the urge to walk back down the hallway and knock on the door again. He knew what the response would be if he asked how much longer it was going to take before you and Nat were ready to go.

"You can't rush perfection," he mumbled to himself as he rolled his eyes and dropped back onto the couch. You already looked perfect all the time. And Nat always looked the same. So he didn't really get the point of the two of you spending the entirety of Saturday afternoon doing each other's hair and makeup just for Admiral Bates' retirement party. It was at the Botanic Garden; it would probably be so humid and crowded inside, everyone would look gross after an hour anyway. 

"Jesus," he grunted when he heard two female voices laughing about mascara. He stood and walked to the kitchen, considering making himself another cup of coffee to help him stay awake all night while he rubbed elbows with his superiors, but then your voice sounded louder. He returned to the living room and waited.

"I think your hair looks perfect," you said as Nat walked in wearing a pretty black dress that hugged her figure. Bradley could appreciate that she seemed to have more makeup on than normal, because her eyes looked bigger and more playful than usual. 

"You look nice," Bradley told her, but then his jaw dropped as you strolled in like you dressed up to impress every day. That purple dress. Fuck. He would always associate it with taking you from behind on the bed. But you looked incredible. "Holy shit, Baby."

"I know," you said with a grin as you spun into his arms. "Nat did my makeup." You kissed his lips, and Bradley didn't even care if that dark lipstick left a mark. Shit. He kind of wanted you to kiss him all over right now. 

"Beautiful," he whispered, cupping your cheek in his palm. You looked the same as you always did, really, with just a little something extra to drive him crazy tonight. 

"You look good, too," you said, running your fingers all over his service pins before taking his hat and plopping it down crooked on his head. He ran his hands down the back of your beaded top and pulled you snug against him. "We'll have a lot of fun with all of this later, Daddy."

Nat cleared her throat and clapped her hands. "Well, on that rather disturbing note, let's get going." 

Bradley looked you up and down one more time, kind of wishing you and he didn't have to go to the event at all. But Amelia was already here to watch Noah and Skittles, and if he didn't get you and Nat into the Bronco soon, you would all be late.

"After you," Bradley said as he opened the front door for Nat to talk outside. When you tried to follow, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close again as you laughed. "Not you," he whispered. "You're mine, Baby. I want you with me all night, okay? No wandering off. You know how those Navy guys can be."

"Oh, I know," you replied as he ran his hand along that little strip of skin that showed above your skirt. "They can be very handsy."

"Mmm," he hummed as he looked down into your eyes. "So you'll stay with me?"

"Yeah. I'll stay with you."

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

Princess is going to look so pretty at the Botanic Gardens. Wonder if she'll end up with that skirt pulled up around her waist again. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 42

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