#i got some on my cheeks/chin/mustache

[hpmmit]

𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 #6

୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

“don't squirm, kento,” you taunt, holding his chin, razor in the other hand.

“i'm not squirming, honey. i just got a stiff neck from tilting my head too much,” he replies sheepishly.

“that's why i asked you to sit down, but you refused.” you roll your eyes and squeeze some shaving foam into your hand. You rub it on your face with a light touch, careful not to get it on you.

“don't give me that attitude, darling,” he teases.

“don't complain to me, or i might 'accidentally' cut your face.”

“don't even joke about it,” he says seriously, but a small smile appears on his lips. “you wouldn't, would you?” he chuckles lightly, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “that would be rather unfortunate.”

“we'll see,” you pursed your lips. “i've always wondered what you'd look like with a mustache. maybe it's time for a change.” you caress his cheeks with a wry grin. “what do you think?”

“let's not,” he replies, his voice steady. “we both know that the way i look now suits me.” you snicker and he joins you with a deep chuckle. suddenly he pulls you to him by the waist, his hands resting comfortably on your hips.

“how about a deal?” he says, stretching his neck before meeting your gaze. “i take you out to dinner and you make sure i get out of here without any cuts, okay?”

“deal.”

“too easy,” he replies, satisfied.

“hm, not sure it's a deal anymore.” you tease, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

[nekrosmos]

Price had to shave. Entirely.

It was for a minor surgery; one of his last op had left him with a small piece of shrapnel stuck under the skin of his jaw, which hadn’t been noticed right away, preventing the wound from healing properly. Sure, he could have only shaved the sides and kept a mustache, but he figured now was the time to do a full shave, even if he really, really hated the idea.

He didn’t tell anyone about the surgery, but Nikolai sure noticed his foul mood the few days before it. A few probing questions here and there, but John absolutely refused to elaborate, so Nik let it go.

And then the day came. They were busy getting ready, Price in the bathroom while Nik was getting dressed in their bedroom, hips moving to a song the speaker on his nightstand was blaring. That was why he didn’t hear the beard clipper buzzing, and that was why he almost fell back in surprise when he was greeted by a face he had not seen in well over 10 years when he turned around.

"Нифига себе John, give me a warning next time. What is this for?"

Price avoided eye contact, focused on getting inside his shirt and grumbling an answer Nikolai almost struggled to understand.

"S'nothing, got a small surgery later today, had to shave. Don't make a big deal out of it Nik."

A glance to the side of John's face and Nikolai noticed the wound, raising an eyebrow at this. He didn't like the fact that John had hidden a surgery from him at all, the captain's stubbornness often a point of contention throughout their relationship, but Nikolai had to admit that the sight of his lover's freshly shaved face was quite the distraction.

The initial shock now gone, a wide smile appeared on Nik’s face as he moved towards John, his arms wrapping themselves around his shape while John grumbled some more, trying to escape his partner’s embrace until Nik firmly locked his chin between his hand and lifted John’s face, finally taking in the full sight of a fully shaved John Price. 

“Aaaah, like when we were boys.” Nik said, smile still as wide, eyes tenderly staring at his lover while a thumb ran across John’s cheek.

“I look fucking twelve, Nik. Do you know how long it took me to shut the sergeants up last time Farah told them about my time without a beard? Three. Fucking. Months. They kept asking for pictures, tried to bribe Laswell a few times, too. I am never going to hear the end of it.” 

A hearty laugh escaped Nikolai’s lips, amused and endeared by John’s reaction. 

“You can always threaten them with hand-to-hand combat training with me if they give you any trouble.” 

Whatever complaints came out of John after this, Nikolai didn’t hear, as he was busy kissing the bare skin of John’s jaw and chin, big hands grabbing the side of his face and keeping him in place as he did so. It was like going back in time, flashbacks of their time together as younger men coming back to him, missions in the desert watching John’s face redden because he was too proud to wear a hat, memories of time spent together in bars, Price getting so drunk that Nik had to carry him back to the barracks, all those times Nik had stared at him with longing in his heart that he thought would never be fulfilled, only to now have him all for himself, all these years later. 

“I think we are going to be late, John.” was all Nik said before gently pushing John against their bed, lips immediately meeting his bare skin once more, kissing and teasing while John slowly relaxed under him, each kiss breaking his guard down, bit by bit. 

It would take John a long time to regrow his beard to what it was, and Nikolai was going to enjoy every single second of it.

[kirain]

Rook shaving Emmrich's mustache for him?

I also threw in some spice and hurt/comfort.

The water ran cold as Emmrich splashed it over his face, the biting chill pulling him from the mire of his thoughts. With slightly trembling fingers, he wiped a thin layer of shaving cream over his jaw, then paused to glance at his reflection. Even after a bath, he looked unkempt and hollow. His beard had grown in, scraggly and uneven, eclipsing his once distinctive moustache; his hair, usually gelled and neatly combed, hung limp and disheveled over his forehead; and the dark circles under his eyes hadn't yet faded.

This was not the man Vae had fallen in love with. This was a man undone.

His stomach churned as he recalled the exact moment she disappeared into the Fade, the soundless, heart-wrenching void that followed still haunting him. Now that she was back, alive and safe, it should have been enough, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd failed her. That he'd been powerless when it mattered most.

"She deserves better than this," he muttered to himself, gripping the razor tightly.

As the blade slid down his cheek, pleasant memories flashed in his head—Vae's laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him, the warmth of her hand in his. Then, the memories shifted: the sight of her being dragged into the unknown, her voice calling out his name before it was swallowed by silence, the paralysing confusion and helplessness.

Days turned into weeks as he threw himself into forging a new lyrium dagger—a desperate, sleepless pursuit to cut through the Veil and bring her home. Every failed attempt threatened to snap his sanity, his workshop cluttered with half-forged blades and inferior enchantments. He pushed himself to the brink, hoping, praying he could succeed. But with each passing night, lying awake and staring at the ceiling, the fear crept deeper.

She was gone, and she was never coming back. He would never see her again.

She was dead.

Suddenly, a sharp sting pulled him from his stupor, the razor clattering to the sink. A mistake he hadn't made since he was a teenager—he'd nicked his cheek. Blood welled along the fresh cut, a dark contrast to the pale cream still smeared across his face; a vivid reminder of his carelessness.

"Emmrich?"

Her voice. Soft and steady, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He turned to see Vae standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of shock and concern. Yet, she looked radiant as ever, her presence filling the room like sunlight after a devastating storm.

"Vae..." He tried to hide the cut with his hand, but she was already walking towards him.

"Let me see," she said, gently pulling his hand away. Her fingers brushed his cheek, tender and sure, as she inspected the wound. "Never seen you do that," she teased, though her worry remained.

"It's nothing," he muttered.

"It's bleeding." Quickly, she pressed a clean cloth to the cut, her movements firm but delicate. "Emmrich, what's wrong? You haven't been yourself since we got back."

His resolve crumbled under her gaze, a quiet whimper escaping. "My love, I didn't handle your disappearance well," he admitted, his breath catching. "I thought I'd lost you, and I'm... scared I'll lose you again."

Vae's frown curved into a small, understanding smile. "Sit," she said, grabbing the razor from the sink.

Emmrich cast her a curious glance, but he obliged, sitting on the edge of the tub. The scent of his santal and black cardamom soap still lingered in the air, drawing a soft, approving hum from Vae as she straddled his lap. The intimacy was sudden, but welcome as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. As their bodies joined, her legs dangling behind him, she caught his chin between her fingers and tilted his head.

"No one can know the future," she said, her tone condoling. Slowly, she brought the razor to his face, her touch feather-light as she dragged the blade over his skin. "I'll never leave you on purpose. You know that. But if something does happen... you can't fall apart like this. Please, Emmrich. You need to take care of yourself."

"I know." He closed his eyes as she carefully scraped away the stubble, the act feeling more like a soothing caress than a chore. "I just can't bear the thought of living without you, my love."

Vae paused before placing her hand over his heart, willing him to look at her. When their eyes met she whispered, "I'll always be with you, Emmrich. And you'll always be with me. But one day..."

She trailed off, if only to spare his feelings, but Emmrich finished the words she wouldn't say. "One day... one of us won't be coming back from the Fade."

The thought made his chest ache, but he knew he had to accept it, and that he had to live on in spite of it. Yet, he couldn't shake the suffocating stab of panic, the vignette that circled his vision, the debilitating loneliness.

One day she would be gone—her voice, her touch, her; a fleeting moment in time, reduced to a memory. Or one day he would be gone, missing out on every laugh, on every smile, on every aspect of her life, unable to share it.

"That's why we have to cherish every moment we have together," Vae said, as if reading his mind.

The sentiment eased his tension, her thumb tracing the crease between his ribs. Though his throat remained tight, his breathing relaxed, the sensation relentlessly euphoric. She always knew exactly how to touch him, exactly what to say.

"Vae..."

"Hold still."

With a knowing smirk, she finished her task, gliding the razor over his skin with perfect precision. The moustache was trickier, more complex, but she managed, molding it the way he liked it.

Once finished, she grabbed a nearby towel, ran it under the tap, and wiped away the remnants of cream, exposing his freshly shaven face.

"There's my handsome man," she said, cupping his bare cheeks. "Not that you looked bad with a beard."

"I looked ridiculous," he chuckled, the sound tinged with both affection and relief. Then he reached up, gingerly tucking her hair behind her ear. "I love you, Vae."

"I love you, too." She leaned in, and their lips met in a passionate kiss, one so hungry she nearly knocked him back into the tub. "Take a bath with me?" she breathed, her pulse racing.

"But I already—" He smiled, reaching for her sash. "As you say."

For the first time in weeks, Emmrich felt whole again, the weight of his fear melting away in her embrace.

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [spiced]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: dubious consent, soft!dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), orgasm denial, groping, light choking, bondage

Notes: This is the second of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.

sugar pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You slip your shoes off, hang your bag on the hook by the door, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom, ready to change from your professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, and you grip the doorframe. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are now so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely. 

He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “Did you think I would really be stuck in a Lithuanian prison?”

You narrow your eyes slightly and chew the inside of your cheek. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give anything away. 

“Aw, you did. That’s cute,” he says, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. “You should’ve known I’d be able to work myself out of there in two or three days, at most.”

You shrug. “A girl can hope.”

“Only one night, by the way, since I know you won’t ask,” he says, clearly wanting to boast. 

“And that was six months ago,” you counter. “I finished the job and got the paycheck.”

“The job might be done, but we have unfinished business, Pumpkin. And it’s more fun surprising you like this when you thought you’d never see me again, isn’t it?” he simpers. 

He might have been biding his time to drop in on your life again, and you can sense he’s eager, a bit impatient, but you also sense he will play this out the way he wants now that the two of you are in the same room together again.

And you hate the way you’ve been drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He is dangerous and untrustworthy. You operate in the daylight and occasionally step into the shadows, but he lives in the dark, revels in it. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me? Why you took the contract in Kaunas in the first place?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that made you weak in Eastern Europe and traitorously eager for him now. 

“No,” you finally answer. Slowly, you take measured steps toward him. 

“Fair enough. But I might get under your skin enough to change your tune, wind you up, have you singing all sorts of secrets for me.”

“How much time did you spend thinking up that line? The imagery, the alliteration? Impressive.”

“Not the only thing that’s impressive about me,” he responds without a second thought.

You scoff, but there is an impertinent flutter in your chest you try to tamp down. He talks - a lot - but from the brief time you were in each others’ orbit in Lithuania, you learned he could back up his bluster with brains and brawn. A dangerous player on the board.

“How much time did spend you think about my fingers deep in your pussy like they were in the closet in that day in Kaunas?”

His words hang in the air, a bold challenge that sends a shiver down your spine. Your mind immediately flashes back to the last day in Lithuania, when you had been alone, hiding in a closet and his fingers had boldly started to explore your body. You can almost feel the heat of his touch, his breath on your neck, and his hard body pressed against your back like they were that day. The memory floods your senses, the smell of wood and dust, the creaking of the floorboards as the hired goons patrolled up and down the hallway just on the other side of the door. And now, here he is, asking how much time she had spent thinking about it.

You couldn't deny to yourself the way your body responds to his words, his presence, craving that same intense pleasure again, but you can deny it to him. You have to.

“I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now,” you reply simply and walk over to your dresser, bypassing him on the bed. Methodically, you begin to take off your necklace, and then your watch, as if he’s not there.

“Want, need, crave…”

“Lloyd!” You gasp because those words are murmured directly in your ear, as Lloyd has moved with silent precision right behind you. 

“…those are all different things,” he says. He presses his hard body up against your back, pressing his pelvis up against your ass, knocking you roughly into the drawers, pinning you. “You may not want this, but need it? Crave it?”

“No,” you whimper when he grinds against you again. 

“Mmm, you made some pretty, soft sounds when we were hidden in the dark before. Wonder what sounds I can get you to make now that we’re not trying to be discreet.”

“We’re not trying to be anything,” you argue, squirming against him. 

“Anything with labels, no, definitely not,” he agrees. “But you’re itching for it, aren’t you, Pumpkin?” 

One of his large hands gropes your breast, and the other moves to your throat. He squeezes in both places, and you groan, a shiver ripping through you. 

He chuckles, “I see we like that.”

“No,” you whimper. 

“Boring!” he barks. 

In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. 

You look up at him, chest heaving, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

“I find you wet, and I’m not stopping,” he insists, tone low, calculated. 

You could press your thighs together, try to squirm away from him, but he’s too strong, and you know what he’s going to find. You could even turn your head and look away, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slick and wet for him, and slips a finger inside. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles.

You moan, arching into his touch, unable to resist the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.

You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.

“Lloyd,” you moan his name, and he chuckles softly.

“You sound so sweet when you say my name like that,” he coos, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you.

Your breath hitches as your orgasm approaches.

But then he pulls his thick fingers away, and a whine escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his.

"You'll give me what I want," Lloyd purrs, his voice low and dangerous. He brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The sight makes you shiver involuntarily.

"Never," you breathe, but your voice lacks conviction.

Lloyd smirks, clearly not believing you. "We'll see about that."

He leans down, pressing his body against yours once more. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "I always get what I want. And right now, I want you."

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. His hands roam your body, touching, teasing, igniting a fire within you that you've tried so hard to extinguish. You hate how easily he can affect you, how your body responds to his touch without your permission.

Lloyd's voice is a low rumble against your ear as he pins you to the bed. "You'll tell me everything I want to know."

You struggle to catch your breath, still reeling from the sudden loss of his touch. "I told you, I'm not giving you anything."

He smirks, trailing a finger down your cheek. "Oh, but you will. Your body's already betraying you. I think you’ll give me everything."

You think there’s a possibility he could end up being right, because while you didn’t think of him much after Lithuania, the truth is you did think of him. You thought of him on some of the nights alone in your bed when you had your best orgasms.

"What's the real reason you took that contract in Kaunas?" he demands.

You clench your jaw, refusing to answer. Lloyd's hand slides back to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Come on, Pumpkin. Make this easy on yourself."

Your breath catches as his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your throat. The pressure sends a thrill through you, desire boiling in your belly despite your best efforts to resist.

"I won't tell you anything," you manage to choke out, your voice strained.

Lloyd's eyes darken with a mix of frustration and arousal. "So stubborn," he murmurs. "But I did hope you’d choose the hard way."

He takes off his belt and binds it around your forearms. He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head against your entrance. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "Last chance to tell me what I want to know."

You turn your head, refusing to meet his gaze. "Go to hell," you spit out.

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, we're already there, Pumpkin."

With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside you. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. Lloyd groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Fuck, you feel even better than I thought you would.”

You moan and push your bound forearms at his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

He gives you what you won’t admit you want.

Over and over again he gives it to you, until you’re boneless, voice hoarse, throat raw, limbs aching, babbling, but somehow still fighting against giving the one piece of information he’s seemingly desperate to have.

When dawn is about to break, dazed and delirious with pleasure, you wonder which of you will break first - or if neither of you will.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

Aaaaah! So with the second one, what do you think? Was this anything like what you were expecting? Did you catch the repeated lines?

...and will you be ready for the third and darkest of the three?!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 42 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The retirement party for Admiral Bates is well underway when you and Bradley run into Beau Simpson. He's just one reminder that some things will never change for the two of you. While you're really enjoying the evening out with your boyfriend, it's starting to feel like nobody else wants you to.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

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

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

On the way up to the San Diego Botanic Gardens, Bradley held your hand and sang while he drove. Nat was in the backseat humming along with him, and you were simply looking out the window at the ocean and the rocky cliffs along the wilder more rustic beaches north of the city. The sun was setting, and the orange and purple streaks along the horizon cast everything in a dreamy light. 

Then you thought about Noah and wondered if you left enough ants on logs for him and Amelia to eat for a bedtime snack. You weren't sure if you got his favorite pajamas out of the dryer before you started getting dressed for the night. "Should I text Amelia and check on Noah?"

Bradley chuckled and glanced at you as he drove. "We just left, Baby. I told her to call me if she needed anything, so I'm sure they're fine."

You tugged gently on his hand. "You texted me all the time when I was Noah's babysitter. Even when you were out on app dates."

Bradley squeezed your thigh through all of the layers of your skirt as he quickly glanced at Nat in his rearview mirror. "I wasn't texting you to check on Noah, because I knew he was perfectly fine in your care. I was texting you because I couldn't focus on whichever woman was right in front of me when I knew you were waiting at home." You smiled as warmth washed through your body. "I was a complete fucking mess on every single one of those dates. Running back home to see if you were sitting on the couch or at the kitchen table. Curious about which color Skittle was touching your lips and tongue. That's why I texted. And that's why you're not my babysitter anymore."

If Natasha could hear your conversation, she was thankfully pretending she couldn't. You brought Bradley's rough hand up to your lips and kissed him. "I'm a complete fucking mess for Noah's daddy." Bradley grabbed your chin and ran his thumb along your bottom lip, and you were shamefully a little turned on while someone else was in the car with you. 

After that he dropped his hand back to your thigh, but you could see the flushed shade of pink on his cheeks and knew he was feeling as warm as you were. "I want you to have fun tonight, Princess. I love the way you always think about Noah, but I'm not going to worry about anything at home unless Amelia contacts us, okay?"

You let your head tip back against the seat as you said, "Okay. You're right."

Bradley pulled off of the main road into the parking lot of the beautifully lit up glass greenhouse structure of the gardens as he said, "I'll get a little champagne in your belly, and then you'll be focused on me." He was smiling as he found a parking spot, and you leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"Well, this has been lovely, but I'll meet you both inside," Nat announced as she hopped out as soon as the Bronco came to a stop. You watched her yank her black dress up in her hand and walk as quickly as she could across the parking lot in her massively high heels while you laughed. 

"She thinks we're gross," you whispered as you crawled onto his lap. You kissed his mustache as you reached for his hat and put it on him. His eyes were soft as he examined your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek. You kissed him again, trying to remember that he was wearing all white while you were wearing dark lipstick. But now it was smudged on his lips and you whimpered softly. 

"We are gross," he confirmed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you on his lap. "Now... who are you going to stay with all evening?"

You smirked. "My Daddy."

"Perfect," he replied, stroking the bare skin along your lower back, making you shiver. "Let's go find Mav and Penny and get some champagne."

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

Bradley would never get over the fact that you were such a headturner, but with you in your formal dress, things were even worse than the night he took you to the Hard Deck in your worn out jeans. He should have bought you an actual crown to go with your outfit, because it would have matched perfectly with your flawless face and your poised demeanor. It would have made you stand out even more. 

The difference tonight was the number of spouses and significant others who were present, and many of them were Bradley's age. As you and he walked inside the sprawling greenhouse enclosure which was filled with orchids, topiaries and rare plants, Bradley felt like he was cast in a spotlight. He kept his arm wrapped around your waist as you chatted away about wanting to see the rare flowers that were supposedly blooming tonight. 

"We can check them out," he assured you, fully aware that you were completely oblivious to the women glaring at you and the men smirking at Bradley. "We just need to find the man of the hour and get you a glass of champagne first."

But the crowd of people moving deeper into the greenhouse slowed, so Bradley pulled you closer to him. You went willingly and stood with your chest pressed to his as you looked up at him and smiled. His hands fell to the swell of your hips as you touched all of his pins again. In your high heels, your lips met his neck more easily, and you whispered, "I think I'm the youngest person here," with a little laugh. 

"You have no idea, do you?" he asked, taking a few steps forward with the crowd as he guided you along the stone pathway. When you looked up at him, clearly puzzled, he added, "You don't know how people look at you." He brought his fingers up to the smooth strip of skin above your skirt and watched you turn your head and look around the indoor garden as someone started playing the grand piano set off in the corner. Your cheek rested briefly against his white jacket before you looked up at him again. 

"People are looking at me," you whispered, poking his hat so it was crooked on his head. 

"Mmhmm."

"It's just because I'm younger, and I'm here with a very old man," you said with an innocent expression. 

Bradley squeezed your ass and stroked your lips with his thumb as he said, "Blaming it on the age gap is only going to get you so far, Princess. You're beautiful, and people notice."

You grinned up at him and muttered, "You're such a daddy," just as someone in a tuxedo holding a platter of champagne flutes came past. "You're hot, too. That's why there are women looking at us." 

Bradley snatched two flutes as he realized that you and he were actually in the line to shake hands with Admiral Bates. He wanted to argue and say that he wasn't the reason anyone took notice, but he could see Warlock and his wife now.

"Okay, Baby," he whispered, handing you a glass. "Make me look good in front of my bosses." And then he noticed that Cyclone and Maverick were there, too. And now Cyclone was looking at you like you were the midnight snack he tried to take home with him from the Hard Deck. 

"Oh, it's that guy again," you whispered as you turned to face the front of the line. "The one who bought me drinks at your Navy bar."

"Admiral Simpson." Bradley had to fight the urge to grab at your body and taste your tongue, even though the only thing he wanted to do was make it clear to Admiral Simpson and everyone else that you were with him and him alone. His cock twitched in his dress whites just thinking about parading you around this retirement party with your hair wrecked and your skirt crooked and a fucked out little smile on your face. 

He grunted as he laced his fingers with yours, and Cyclone met his eyes. He had to fight to keep his expression neutral as the other man's gaze traveled to your face and dipped down your body, and when he met Bradley's brown eyes again, he smirked. So Bradley smirked, too. 

Then you and he were right there in front of the lineup of Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock and his wife. He let go of your hand to salute the others, and then Warlock's wife started to make an absolute fuss over him. But not before he heard what Cyclone said to you.

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

You were young, but you weren't stupid, and you didn't appreciate the way most men besides Bradley looked at you. He never stared at your chest instead of your face when talking to you, and he never made you feel uncomfortable. You chalked it up to him being older and more mature than guys your own age. So it was almost laughable when Admiral Simpson, who was at least fifteen years older than your boyfriend, greeted you by saying, "I remember you. From the Hard Deck. You'd be impossible to forget."

As if he'd done anything besides piss you off when he touched your cheek. As if you hadn't pushed his hand away and strolled off with the drinks he insisted upon paying for. You wanted to make a snide remark, you really did. When he shook your hand and asked to be reminded about your name, you wanted to tell him to fuck off. But you knew that Bradley reported to both him and Maverick at work, so you decided to play nice. 

You glanced up at Bradley who was sort of glaring at Admiral Simpson even though he was talking to Admiral Bates. You told Simpson your name, and then he gave your hand a little squeeze. "Please, call me Beau."

"Sure," you said cooly, carefully extracting your hand from his. "Beau."

"So, I heard that you're actually Bradshaw's babysitter."

The words made your skin prickle coming from him. "I'm working full time as a nurse now."

He smirked. "Are you still looking for a babysitting job after hours?"

You raised one eyebrow and sipped your champagne before you asked, "Do you have kids?"

"No, none," he replied easily, his steely gray eyes locked on your face. "But I'm sure I could still find something for you to do with your set of skills."

You were torn between throwing your champagne at him and loudly asking him to explain what he meant by that. But you didn't want to waste the drink when there was a delicious looking raspberry waiting for you at the bottom, and you were certain you already knew what he was getting at. So you simply said, "I'm kept very busy all day as a pediatric nurse and all night as Lieutenant Bradshaw's girlfriend. I just don't see how I could fit you in."

You turned away from his smirking lips when Admiral Bates' wife absolutely lit up and asked, "You're a pediatric nurse? That was my career for almost thirty years!" You were blessedly saved from having to talk to Beau any longer as Admiral and Mrs. Bates kindly asked you about your job and didn't treat you like a child. She even said, "I'll absolutely look for you again later tonight. I had no idea Lieutenant Bradshaw was dating a pediatric nurse!"

After you bid them farewell, you realized Bradley and Beau were standing very close together, and your boyfriend did not look happy. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason he didn't enjoy himself tonight. You downed the remainder of your champagne and bit into the perfectly ripe berry before you reached for his hand.

"Come on, Daddy," you said loud enough for Beau to hear as well. "I feel like dancing." With one firm tug, you got him moving away from the other man. "It sounds like there's a DJ in another part of the arboretum," you mused as he came along.

"I heard what he said to you." You looked up to see Bradley's expression was annoyed. "It's always going to be like this. You know that, right?"

You reached for two more champagne glasses as they came parading past you. "Save your berry for me," you instructed Bradly when you handed one to him. "It's my favorite part."

"Did you hear what I said?" he asked, stopping you when you tried to head off toward the louder music. 

"Yes, I heard you, Bradley. But you're the one who keeps telling me to ignore it. You tell me it doesn't matter, and that you love me and that I shouldn't let it bother me. So what would you have me do? Ask you to yell at Maverick's boss for being weird?"

He sighed and said, "It's never going to stop. Because you're young and hot."

Now you were getting a little annoyed. "Well, can you live with it or not? And this is a two way street here, because I've had to deal with my fair share of Caseys and Helens. You're hot. You have a sweet little boy and a dog. You have your shit together. You're a man in your thirties, who could have any woman he wants, and it shows. But you told me you want me. And I want you. So Beau Simpson can just stand over there next to the seven foot tall brassavola nodosa orchid and look like an ass for all I really care."

Bradley was gaping at you as you put your hands on your hips and added, "Don't forget to save me your raspberry. Now I said I wanted to dance. Are you coming or should I go find Nat?"

"I'm coming," he whispered. 

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

Bradley wasn't sure how many glasses of champagne you'd had, but an hour later, you were still dancing with him inside the humid fountain room surrounded by rare ferns and imported shrubs while you giggled. The music was starting to pick up as the night wore on, and after you and he had danced to a handful of slower, romantic songs, a few with faster tempos played in a row. 

He kissed your temple and whispered, "Let's take a break."

You scoffed and tightened your arms around him, your breasts pressed to his jacked inside your beaded top. "You're so old," you said, but it came out as more of a whine. "And sexy. And I want to keep dancing with you."

It was that easy for you to keep him on the dancefloor near Maverick and Penny. Even Nat was dancing nearby with Coyote, and Bradley was pretty sure he knew what that meant. "I'll bet you Nat goes home with Javy," he whispered next to your ear. 

You gasped and turned to look at them over your shoulder. "Oh, I hope she does. He's so hot."

"Hey," he grumbled, tucking his fingers inside the waistband of your skirt and drawing your attention back to him. 

"I mean... ewww, he's way too young! He's like thirty! I hate that."

"That's better." He leaned down to kiss you, and it was just starting to get a little dirty when Maverick cleared his throat. 

"Just thought maybe I could cut in for a bit," he said with a smile at you.

"Sure!" you replied, and Bradley left you with his godfather after giving you a soft peck on the cheek. Then he went off in search of Penny at the bar where she was drinking a martini in her pretty blue dress. 

"Oh, there you are," she said, flagging down the bartender again for him. "You want a martini?"

"Sure," Bradley replied. He was keeping track of how much he had so he could drive him later. Now he was also going to have to check in with Javy and see how much he'd consumed. "Amelia would text me if there was an issue, right?" he asked Penny. 

"I'm sure she would. She probably has Noah in bed by now and is reading one of those horror novels she likes. Either that, or she's playing with the dog."

Bradley nodded and glanced to make sure you were still with Mav. "He really wanted to dance with your future wife," Penny said when Bradley's martini got dropped off. 

He groaned. "Mav told you I'm looking at rings? Because I specifically asked him not to."

Penny laughed. "He's terrible at keeping secrets. You should have known better."

"I'll know better for next time," Bradley told her playfully. "And I don't care if she dances with him for the rest of the night, I just need to keep most of these other assholes away from her."

Penny laughed with the rim of her martini glass pressed to her lips. After she took a sip, she said, "I'm not surprised you feel that way. She's sweet and she's young. And while I miss having her living on my street, I'm sure you must be happy she's living with you now. The trip to the lake house was really special, and it's easy to see how much Noah loves her."

Bradley smiled. "She fell in love with Noah before she fell in love with me."

"Anyone would, Bradley."

He and Penny were sipping their martinis when Maverick joined them, and Bradley turned so fast to see where you'd gone. "Seriously, Mav? You left her with Hangman?"

Maverick glanced back as well to watch Jake's hands all over that soft skin above the top of your skirt. Bradley's jaw clenched; nobody else should have access to you there. Even Mav had kept his hands respectfully on the back of your beaded top. And Jake looked handsome tonight. Bradley knew dress whites made any officer at least ten percent more attractive; it was something Nat told him years ago when he got asked out ten times at his promotion banquet.

"She'll be fine," he replied with a shrug, ordering himself a beer. "What's the worst that could happen?"

You asked him barely an hour ago if he could live with this or not. He had assured you he could. But this was Jake. He'd actually managed to kiss you in the middle of Bradley's kitchen. Jake knew what your lipgloss tasted like. "Fuck," Bradley grunted when Jake met his gaze. Because now he was smiling like the cat who got the cream while he let his hands drift a little further south toward your ass. 

You were talking to him, about what, Bradley had no idea. Then you reached for his hands and guided them back up to your waist while Jake gave you the most distressingly fake innocent look he could muster up. When you glanced Bradley's way, you rolled your eyes before turning back to Jake, but when that song ended, you came over to the bar. Before you even made it all the way to him, Bradley secured you a glass of champagne with a raspberry.

"Princess," he said, handing it to you. "Did you have fun with Jake?"

"Not particularly," you said blandly, but Bradley could tell you were ready to laugh. "He invited me to the charity air show next month that he's flying in. Claimed he's donating five thousand dollars to the children's hospital and asked if I'd want to go since I work with kids. He also stressed that it wouldn't be a date, and that I would get to tour the hospital with him."

Bradley chuckled. He'd thrown his name on the list of volunteers as well, and he knew for a fact the selections hadn't even been made yet. "That's wishful thinking on his part." Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek. "Do you want to go on a tour of the children's hospital?"

"Kind of," you said with a shrug while you gulped down your champagne just to get to the raspberry which made him smile. "But not with Jake. Obviously."

He tucked his fingers under your chin so you were looking at him. "Do you want to go with me if I get to fly in the air show?"

Your face let up. "Of course! I didn't want to say anything, but the whole day sounded pretty great, actually. Can you fly in it, too?"

"I'll see what I can do," Bradley said softly, looking across the crowded room and past the fountain to where Cyclone and Warlock were chatting. As much as he didn't want to, he could ask Warlock on one of his last days at work to push his name to the top if possible. And he'd rather choke on one of the raspberries, but he could feasibly ask Cyclone. 

Bradley watched you pluck another glass of champagne from a passing tray before leaving your empty one on the bar. "Baby, how many have you had?" he asked with a laugh.

"Not as many as Natasha," you replied, nodding to where she and Javy were making out in the middle of the dancing couples. Actually, a lot of Bradley's colleagues were pretty drunk now. Even Maverick had rosy cheeks and a bit of extra swagger in his step. 

Bradley set his empty martini glass down, already knowing that was his last drink for the night. Your eyes lit up as you finished yet another glass of champagne, and Bradley recognized the remix of the song as one from the kid friendly playlist you made for Noah. You shook the raspberry into your mouth and chewed it up before you kissed him. 

"Dance with me," you demanded, and Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out to where everyone was bouncing around. The lights had been dimmed, and the fountain in the background was illuminated now. You danced wildly in his arms, and Bradley knew you were probably going to have a hangover tomorrow. When you spun around as you sang along, your ass grinding against him, Bradey leaned in close and kissed your neck.

"I love you, Baby," he said over the music as he ran his hands along any bare skin he could find. You responded by grinding a little harder against him, so he knew you heard him. He licked the shell of your ear and kissed you there as the song came to an end. 

"I love you too, Daddy," you told him, kissing him solidly on the lips. "I think I'll have one more glass of champagne."

He was not convinced that was a good idea, but he took you back to the bar anyway. And now everyone was over here including Nat and Javy who looked very cozy together. You had another champagne flute in your hand when he asked Nat, "You're not going to need a ride home from me, are you?"

She smirked and shrugged at him. "Doesn't look that way."

"How long has this been going on this time?" he asked as you tugged on his arm.

"Daddy, can I have your wallet?" you asked loudly in front of everyone accumulated at the bar. Javy gaped at Bradley while Mav and Penny tried not to laugh. Nat was ready to gag just like she was every time she heard you call him that. You were probably a little drunk, but you probably also didn't care who heard you. Bradley pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to you, and you kissed his cheek and walked away with it. 

"I feel like I should be concerned," he muttered to himself.

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

You were quite tipsy now, and everything seemed like a good idea. Once you secured Bradley's wallet, you giggled as you went off to find that one guy carrying around the champagne who looked about your age. When you located him, you smiled and waved him down.

He looked like he was going to drop his entire tray as he eagerly asked, "How can I help you?"

Then you told him your name and said, "I was hoping you could do me a favor."

"Anything," he said quickly, and you couldn't help but laugh which made him smile. You probably didn't even need the wallet after all, but you took out fifty bucks and pointed across the room. "You see that guy standing over there in the dress whites?" You knew that didn't really narrow it down in this crowd, but luckily at the moment Beau Simpson was mostly surrounded by women and men in gowns and suits. 

"Yes."

"Any chance you can go to the bar, get a glass of top shelf bourbon and take it to him?"

He shrugged and said, "Sure."

Then you handed him the fifty and said, "Please make sure you tell him it's from Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and his girlfriend." 

"Done," he replied, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of making some easy money. 

As he walked away, you smiled to yourself and strolled back to Bradley. He seemed to be arguing with Natasha about something, so you carefully tucked his wallet into his pocket. He turned to face you, and you kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll be back after I use the ladies' room."

"Don't take too long," he told you, patting your butt before returning to his conversation with his best friend. 

You nearly tripped when you saw Admiral Beau Simpson being delivered his glass of bourbon, and it seemed to do what you had hoped it would. He was laughing as he searched the crowd, and then he took a sip of it with an appreciative look on his face before joining Admiral Bates in conversation. You were practically cackling as you made your way to the restroom with your poofy skirt billowing around you.

Tonight you really felt like a princess, and when you checked yourself in the ladies' room mirror, you were delighted to see that the makeup job Natasha did still looked really good. You clicked across the marble floor in your heels and tucked yourself in one of the stalls. Very carefully you bunched your skirt up, and just as you finished and flushed the toilet, you heard the main door open, and a few voices echoed through the room.

"She's way too young for him," said one woman, and you tried your best to keep your skirt bunched up as you peeked through the slit between the stall door and the wall. She was kind of pretty; she kind of looked like an older version of you. "Whoever she is, she looks like she's about twenty. Her purple dress is pretty though."

You froze, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

"He's just having his midlife crises a few years early. All men have one," another woman, this one with red hair, told the first one. You were nearly certain they were talking about you and Bradley, and you had to keep bunching your skirt up so they wouldn't see it under the stall door. "But he's got a kid, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," replied a third woman with black hair, who was fixing her makeup. "He's a cute little thing. Rooster brought him to base a few times."

Your heart was pounding as you stood there and listened to someone you'd never even seen before talk about how cute Noah was. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream or cry as she said, "He'll snap out of it soon when he realizes he can do better. I'm sure she's got nothing to offer other than being young and eager. He'll get tired of that soon enough."

The first woman laughed merrily as tears stung your eyes. You were standing in a bathroom stall holding the bunched up skirt of the formal dress Bradley bought for you while three women you didn't even know trashed you for no good reason.

Then the second woman said, "She wasn't even with him when we passed him on our way here."

"Yeah, it's probably past her curfew."

Now all three of them laughed as your lip quivered. 

You watched the first woman wiggle the top of her dress a little lower as she fixed her cleavage. "Listen, he looks hot in his dress whites. If she's not there when we go back out, I'm going to accidentally bump into him."

"No, you're not!" came one reply.

"I dare you," came the other.

You let the fabric fall from your hands as you squared your shoulders. They were talking about Bradley. They were talking about Noah. They were talking about you and your family. You were tired of being treated like you were a fucking joke. Then you unlatched the stall door and were met with three pairs of surprised eyes. 

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

Who do they even think they are? And Bradley better fly in the air show, because I want Princess to get to visit the children's hospital. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 43

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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@sagittarius-flowerchild

[anabdaniels]

A taste of what you asked for

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Summary: Jack decides to prove you that not only his mustache can have a porn vibe.

Word counting: 1.6k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, love bites, creampie, rough sex (but not that rough), undertones of the author's polemic opinions toward some sex positions, Jack being a talented bastard when it comes to sex.

A/N: I'll not explain myself about this one hahaha. I saw a tweet of a girl complaining about her boyfriend shaving his mustache without warning her beforehand and my brain started to work.

Divider from: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

Unworriedly scrolling your phone, you were lying on your back on the bed while you could hear Jack’s little noises while taking care of his beloved mustache in the en-suite bathroom. A few minutes later you heard the shower running and smiled as you smelled the scent of your shampoo that Jack swore you would never notice he casually stole.

When Jack came out of the bathroom only with the towel wrapped around his waist you didn’t waste the chance to take a look at him, analyzing every part of your handsome husband. Noticing your attention over him, Jack approached the bed with a smirk, crawling on the mattress to get close to you, planting a teasing kiss on your shoulder as he settled by your side.

You stopped for a moment, realizing that something seemed out of place, not realizing what it was immediately, but needed no more than a couple seconds to find out, sitting on the bed with an intrigued expression.

“No, you can't have done this.” You said in pure perplexity while touching the spot at Jack’s face where his sideburns were supposed to be “Daniels you haven't.”

“Why do you seem so surprised, sweetheart?” Jack laughed pulling you to lay on top of him “I told you I was considering doing it a few days ago, remember?”

“I thought you were just bluffing about shaving your sideburns, I didn't believe you would betray me like that.” You explained while still running your fingers on the sides of his face.

“Betray you?” Jack raised an eyebrow with a curious grin while caressing the sides of your body.

“How should I feel with you casually showing up with your sideburns shaved without giving me a single warning before?” you raised both of your eyebrows as you got comfortable on top of him “If you ever dare to touch this mustache, you'll be a divorced man.”

“Y’know I would never damage my mustache, sugar. But now you tempted me just for the sake of seeing you this mad about it.” He retorted in his cocky manner, making you roll your eyes.

“You really can’t spend a day without being bitchy, hum?” you said softly slapping his bicep.

“Jesus Christ, you’re the first woman that gets pissed because your husband cares about looking good.” Jack pinched your cheek teasingly, with that damn seductive smirk on his lips.

“I never said that.” You contradicted promptly, lifting your head from his chest to look at his face “What got me was the surprise element.”

“So you’re not that unhappy at all.” He concluded while grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Of course not, I mean, I had nothing against your 70s porn sideburns and mustache combo, but I ain’t finding any problem with the new look.” You squinted at the moment he burst into a laugh.

“70s porn, honey? Really?” he questioned raising one eyebrow, still smirking.

“I haven’t created the concept.” You shrugged, biting your bottom lip as he rolled on the bed, letting you underneath him.

“But something tells me you enjoy the whole thing.”

“I do actually.” You confirmed while your idle hands moved to unwrap the towel off his waist, smiling satisfied as you saw his cock proudly erect.

“Then I may give you a bit of help to keep your little fantasies fed.” Jack spoke as his hands moved under your dress, lifting it and getting you rid of it with no ceremony. You intended to ask what he was planning, but he gave you no time as he flipped you on the bed and started to trail kisses down your spine, making you shiver all over.

As he did with your dress, Jack got rid of your panties, smiling at the sight of you so beautifully relaxed on the bed. Not wanting to waste such an opportunity, he squeezed your thighs and kissed your lower back, moving down to kiss your rear, only moving forward after biting one of your buttcheeks. Carefully, Jack grabbed your hips, lifting them until your knees were resting on the mattress; he wasn’t a jerk, Jack perfectly remembered how you warned him that having you on all fours was completely out of the question, unless it was for a bit of harmless foreplay, so you knew exactly how that was going to end even before you felt another soft bite on your butt.

Wanting to appreciate that great view of you spread open right in front of him, Jack took his time, kissing all over your thighs, hips, and ass before starting to approach your already wet core. He savored and covered with kisses every inch of skin from your outer lips, then to the inner lips, causing you to whine and smash the nearest pillow you could reach when his low groan reverberated against your pussy as his tongue buried on your entrance. You didn’t even try to keep rested on your elbows, letting your face and chest sink into the bed as you unconsciously pranced up your rear against his face, contorting and whimpering more at every move of his tongue.

Giving you no chance to foresee it, Jack moved ahead, sucking your swollen clit as his hands gently massaged your ass, getting you completely out of your mind as you sighed, moaned, and bit the pillow you were squeezing, feeling your heart beating on your throat and your breath messed while you concentrated on enjoy the marvelous work of his mouth on your clit accompanied by the sporadic little nudges of his nose on your entrance. You did the best you could to keep yourself together for a little longer, but Jack knew way too well what he was doing to give you a chance to keep your composure, so you followed your body’s urges, moving your hips along with his tongue, arching your back and crying out when you finally got your release, feeling your strength vanishing and your hips falling back on the bed as the effects of your orgasm spread all over your body.

You were more than ready to just lay down completely boneless for a few minutes, but of course, that wouldn’t going to happen yet, after all, Jack Daniels wasn’t a man of left a task unfinished or play at work, if you thought that his mustache alone passed a 70s porn vibe, then he would provide you with a performance that matched your opinions.

After gently apart your legs, Jack placed himself between them, resting his elbows on the bed while kissing your shoulder and the curve of your neck. When you were recomposed enough to turn your head and look at him, no second thoughts were necessary for him to go on and kiss you hungrily, moving his tongue into your mouth as his torso was softly pressed against your back. You choked on your breath as he smoothly moved inside you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix softly and it kept like that even with his thrusts not being precisely gentle; of course, Jack was more than aware that too much energy on his move could end up with your cervix being hit in a not so pleasant way, but he also knew very well how to manage his pace to not cause you any discomfort, even while railing you so energetically like that.

As your head leaned back for you to catch your breath, Jack couldn’t help but grin at the beautiful sight of you taken by the pleasure he was providing you with, feeling his urge for every inch of your body growing wilder. He passed one arm around the upper part of your torso, keeping your shoulders pressed against his chest while he covered you with kisses and praises, wondering how he could be so lucky to have you to call his, to love dearly every day and fuck well every night.

Even feeling like your body was out of control, you managed to move one hand back, resting it on Jack’s nape and grabbing his hair tight. He sighed heavily and rested his head against yours, only then giving you the chance to realize how good it felt to rub your face against his without a sideburn scratching your cheek. Your free hand rested on Jack's forearm that was holding you close, your nails digging into his skin as your cunt became more sensitive to his steady rough pace, making you pulse involuntarily around his already throbbing cock. As it became more common with the passing time you were married and knew better how each other’s bodies worked, you and Jack fell apart together, remaining at the mess of tangled limbs you two had become while both of you enjoyed your orgasms.

At the very moment Jack moved to lay on his back on the bed, he pulled you to rest on his chest, caressing your back and kissing the top of your head. You made sure to snuggle yourself comfortably, letting one leg on top of him. He smiled at the very moment he saw the slight mark of his teeth on your butt and caressed the spot gently, making you moan quietly and move one hand to his face, letting your fingers move along, taking a little long on the region his sideburns used to be.

“You’ll really not forgive me for that?” he questioned playfully, looking at you.

“On the contrary, I was actually planning to tell you to keep like this. I can live happily having only your mustache.” You admitted looking at him with a smile, chuckling when he shook his head.

“You’ll be the death of me someday, sugarcube.” Jack rested one hand on your cheek, leaning to give you a gentle peck on the lips before nestling you even more between his arms.

@missladym1981

[tokkiwrites]

YOU MAY NOW FUXK THE BRiDE

ㅡ in which tangerine shows his bride how much he truly loves her. ( this was a request. thank you so much anon! ) • reqs

tags: established rs, afab reader, rough sex w breeding kink ig, dom tan, sub & shy reader, use of y/n, p in v (unprotected!!)

the special day came and went by so fast, but not a moment passed without tangerine thinking how lucky he is to have y/n in his life; the fact he could hold her forever -- she promised him eternal love and he didn't want more in this world than to make her happy. even so, looking at his now bride, exceptionally beautiful and innocent, with her teary doe eyes whilst he said "i do" ... he couldn't wait to dig right into her tonight.

the guests left, not before showering the newlyweds in congratulations, hugs, and happy tears -- was tangerine starting to get impatient? maybe, but he sensed y/n felt the same. while they've had sex before tonight was more special, y/n gave him everything, and he was going to take it giving in exchange what he had to offer: his heart and good dick every night until death does them apart.

his train of thoughts is put to a halt when he hears y/n softly giggling, grabbing him by his bicep "finally some alone time."

tangerine smiles under his mustache, tilting y/n's chin up and placing a kiss on her reddened lips. "Let's go to our room, doll. don't wanna waste a single moment." she can't help but blush at his words, knowing what he meant. don't get her wrong. She absolutely loved it when Tan was straightforward, and even after so many nights together, she always seemed to turn into a shy mess.

tangerine scoops her up from the ground, scurrying to their hotel room just a few minutes away. opening the door with his elbow, he spins inside the suite, settling y/n down again. he didn't say anything, only closed the door and stared his now wife, who looked like an untainted flower -- he couldn't wait to pick.

"You're makin' me feel like i have something on my face when you stare so much." y/n jokes, pokin tangerines chest with her manicured fingers."You're so gorgeous, baby." he sighs, closing in on her and grabbing her by the waist. "I'm so lucky you're mine."

y/n can't help but flush, shying away and bury her face in tangerines neck. "And I'll be yours from now on, tan." he chuckles before helping her off the ground again and settling her on the bed, this pulling a soft laugh from y/n's lips. "Your makeup looks so pretty, but I'd enjoy ruining it just about now."

y/n turns more red, if that's even possible. "You can ruin it.." she mutters.

"What's that, baby?"

nothing. she swallows thick, a hot sensation running over her body. even if they were married now, this feels like the first time something was about to happen.

"Need you to speak up, darlin'..." he stops to trace his fingers across her cheeks before roughly grabbing them, making y/n look up at him. "C'mon, you know i hate it when i have to ask twice."

"i said.. you could ruin it-- my makeup." Tangerine coos before he moves his hand from y/n's face to her throat, gently pressing on the sides. "That's a good girl. was it so hard?" he asks, almost mockingly.

there's a short pause before tangerine speaks again. "Want me to undress you, baby? or do you want me to fuck you in that pretty dress you've got on?"

y/n presses her legs together, the hotness from her body growing in waves that washed over. tangerine notices and decides to position himself between her legs, pressing against her wet panties with his knee. he already had her squirming, the thoughts in her head all jumbled. "doll--" he paused before tightening his grip around her neck "i asked you something."

"u-ndress me..please."

tangerine hums, taking his time whilst he undressed them both, y/n's body buzzing in anticipation as he saw the immense bulge in tangerines boxers. she saw it many times but it never stopped shocking her on how big it was.

tangerines calloused palms traveled across y/n's torso, tracing her curves so perfectly. her already messy hair and burning body invited him to climb over her slightly, pressing one of his thumbs on her lips. "open."

she does as she's told, parting her lips and letting tangerines finger slip in.

"wider." he demands, pushing in another digit, traveling well past her tongue and into the back of her throat, hitting it and making y/n gag.

he smiles proudly, thrusting his fingers into her mouth, slicking them up before removing them, leaving y/n gasping for air. "Good girl."

he motions her on her back before lining his fingers with her dripping core. "m gonna work you out a little, baby, yeah? then make you take my cock."

the slick and wet noises fill the room as tangerine pushes his fingers inside y/n, causing her to buck her hips agains his hand, head turning to the side trying to hide her embarrassment. those two fingers worked into her, turning the girl into a incoherent mess, that familiar feeling building up inside her core.

"gotta come, baby? can't have you do that, need you to feel my cock buried deep inside of that pretty pussy of yours first."

his tainted words make y/n even more delirious, soft pants parting from her agape mouth. "p-please, tan-"

"im gonna fill you up so good, love." he leans down and rasps into her ear "make you unable to walk from how good I'll fuck you."

his fingers slip out of her, the feeling of emptiness being short lived as tangerine pushes inside of her full force, making y/n take his cock all in one go.

"that's my good g-girl-" he groans in utmost pleasure, roughly hitting just the right spot over and over. he pulls out almost completely before snapping his hips forward, causing y/n to moan louder, breath hitching as his cock brushed against her walls.

"gonna come all over my cock, baby, huh?"

"p-lease, tan-" she cries out, gripping him by his broad shoulders, his thrust quickening. "I wa-nt you to c-ome, darlin'- shit!" he frowns, closing his eyes as he tightly grips y/n by her thighs "fuck, baby, I'm gonn-a cum, I'm gonna fill you u-up-"

with one last snap of his hips, he sends them both into heaven and back, as they each finish, tangerine letting his seed pool inside of y/n, her mind now hazy.

they both breathe heavily, before tangerine falls over y/n, wrapping his arms around her frame, placing one peck on her lips.

"I love you so much, doll." y/n smiles, her vision still blurry, then replies with the words that still make butterflies fill tangerines stomach."I love you."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : AS PROMISED sorry for any grammatical errors  !!! this has 1.2k words. also, thank you so much for the amazing request!! i know I've been not so active, but i have SHIT RECEPTION FOR NOW.

[kyraisdead]

Secondo x Reader - Merry Christmas (MENTIONS OF NSFW)

"We have enough fat guys in red in this place, agnellino. We don't need to lure in any more." The light jab at Copia wasn't lost on you, but you brushed it off as you gently tugged on his sleeve, silently asking him again. In response, he groaned.

Secondo was a phenomenal cook. A cook, not a baker. He'd whip up classic Italian dishes in less than an hour and still manage to make them taste like something out of a 5-star restaurant. The only thing he baked was bread because the bagged and frozen garbage at the grocery store tasted like sand. (According to him, at least. You still snuck the frozen Texas Toast into the Ministry now and then as a snack.)

"Will it shut you up?" he asked, grabbing your face in his hand and smushing your cheeks together until you were forced into doing duck-lips. Despite his harsh words, there was no malice in his tone. Only begrudging affection. When you nodded, he released you, allowing you to follow him into the fancy kitchen of his chambers.

"Get me the flour from the cabinet, if you can reach it. All-purpose, not the bread flour," he specified quickly. Last time, you'd accidentally handed him cake flour. It resulted in quite the mess. You took your time as he got a few bowls from underneath the sink, arranging them on the marble countertop.

He turned around, watching you carefully with mismatched eyes, like marbles stolen from a child's jar. "Well?" he asked, crossing his arms, black sleeves rolled up as he waited expectantly.

"Coming, Papa," you said quickly. Although you'd been dating for some time, it still felt improper to call him just Secondo. It was always Papa instead.

Despite your hesitance towards informalities, it didn't stop you from admiring his arms as you handed him the heavy bag of flour. As far as you were concerned, the most attractive thing a man could do was to roll his sleeves up to show off him forearms. Sometimes he thought you'd rather him keep his shirt on like that in the bedroom.

"Pre-sifted, unbleached," you read the label on the bag as unraveled the rolled top, standing on your toes to place your chin on his shoulder. "I've only used it for white gravy, or to bread chicken. Why does it matter?" You were certain you were about to spring him into a four-page rant about the different types of flours down to the grain used to produce them, but to your surprise, he kept his explanation short.

"It means you're buying proper flour. Not that cheap, bleached stuff from the grocery store." He ruffled your hair and patted you on the head, a smirk slowly forming on his lips.

He began measuring out the exact amount of flour that the recipe called for, pausing every few seconds to weigh it on his kitchen scale. "This is my kitchen. I need to make sure you're not poisoning me, agnellino." His arm curled around your shoulders, tugging you against his side.

"So, low quality flour is poison... but chain-smoking cigars with a glass of wine in the other hand isn't?" you ask him, pressing your cheek against his chest as he pulled you closer. He chuckled gruffly underneath his breath, the faint rumble sending a shiver through your body. His chest pressed against your ear, muffling all sound until all you could hear was the faint beating of his heart.

"I think the cigars cancel it out. Two wrongs make a right, dear," he responded, a smirk on his lips. Taking your hand, he brought it up to his mouth and nipped on the tips of your fingertips, his mustache scratching your palm. He'd grown it out a little bit, no longer required to don his paints all the time. "It's too quiet in here. Put some music on."

You were about to protest, to point out that no, alcohol did not cancel out tobacco, but he was truly the master of changing the subject before you could scold him for anything. Secondo, for all of his good intentions, was a stubborn old thing that never listened to reason. He knew that his cigars were going to be the death of him, but that same knowledge somehow never managed to stop him from lighting a fresh one.

You frowned slightly, lightly flicking the tip of his nose before walking over to the old 1960's record player he kept. In his chambers, if it wasn't at least 20 years old, he had no interest in keeping it.

"Can I pick the record?" you asked politely, shuffling through the old box of vinyl.

"No, bella," he said, shaking his head. "I don't trust those terrible tastes of yours. You'll turn on the ABBA again."

"Insulting ABBA is like insulting Swedish Dolly Parton," you said under your breath, noticing the hint of confusion on his face before you just waved your hand, dismissing what you said before he could question it. "I'm not putting on Frank Sinatra. That record is going to snap in half the next time you use it."

"Frank Sinatra and The Supremes are musical legends, I'll have you know," he said, pressing the forming dough a little harder with his hands. If he had the nerve, he'd throw you out of the room on your ass. Unfortunately, though, he found your ass too cute for that.

After a few minutes more of digging, he huffed like a petulant child, shaking his head. "Just put anything on. But I swear, if I hear the song Waterloo one more time-"

I really can't stay...

Baby, it's cold outside...

The sweet sound of the soft tune caught him off guard, silencing him abruptly and softening the hard lines at the corners of his seemingly permanently downturned mouth. He lifted his head again, hands becoming gentle as he carefully greased a baking sheet.

You smiled, slipping away from the record player and back to your original spot behind him, arms snaking around his waist as you squeezed him firmly.

He grumbled something under his breath, pausing in his work to glance down at your small hands hugging tightly around his middle, pressing yourself against his back as though you were a parasite, leeching heat from him like a damn lamprey.

He grunted quietly and continued kneading the dough, careful not to dig his fingers in too hard. He'd accidentally made that mistake before, leaving a permanent print in the dough when pressing his fingers into a shaped cookie. Primo had laughed his ass off, more at Secondo's frustration than anything.

He sighed and leaned back against you, resting the back of his head on top of yours. "What are you doing back there, tesoro?"

"Convincing you to dance with me," you responded, slowly swaying from side to side, your breath cool on his skin, a stark difference from the heated air of the room, additional warmth emanating from the preheating oven. You pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. "Is it working?"

He hummed like an old machine, turning until his nose was buried in the crook of your neck, breathing against your skin. He nipped on the sensitive skin just beneath your ear, feeling your body shudder against him.

"It's working a little," he admitted after a few seconds, wrapping his hands around your hips and pulling you snugly against him. "Keep going."

You held him a little tighter, continuing the soft sway. It wasn't often that Secondo was this soft with you--- even when he was soft, he wasn't entirely too sweet. Pacified was a better word. Content.

You led him for a moment before he seemed to remember he did in fact exist. He shifted his hand to sit just above your bum, supporting your lower back while his other intertwined with yours.

His movements were graceful, gentle, and slow, the way one would expect a man with the title of 'Papa' would move. He pulled you effortlessly around the kitchen, guiding you through the space like you were made of glass. He knew you were strong, but it didn't stop him from wanting to take care of you.

He dipped you gently under the dim lights of the kitchen, a slight smile spreading across his lips. "What would you do if I picked you up right now, hm?" he asked, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "Take you upstairs, into my bed, where it's all nice and warm... never let you go." His smile turned into a grin as he brought you back up, already bending at the knee to fulfill his suggestion. *Ding!* The sound of the oven's little song-like chime snapped him out of his focus, alerting him that no, he shouldn't leave balls of raw egg on the counter to collect dust and E-Coli. He groaned, as he stood back up, pressing his face into the front of your top, a kiddish expression of his frustration.

"Cookies first," you told him, gently caressing his head with soft fingers. The man was a fiend, but he never failed to make you smile. "What comes after is your decision." He lifted his head again before tilting it to the side, giving you a grain before his arms went under your ass, hoisting you up suddenly and placing you on the counter, standing between your legs as he kissed you suddenly.

Despite your initial focus on the cookies, it was hard to say no to him. He breathed like an old dog, pressing firm, quick kisses against your mouth after that first long one, before he suddenly pulled away, returning to the stove. "Secondo!" you said breathlessly. Secondo, not Papa. The sound of his name from your lips made him smile. "Cookies first, agnellino," he reminded you with a smile. "But we can do something else after, if you want to?" Bastard.

[mr2swap]

A long Thanksgiving Day with grandpa

Fuuck! How long until the end of the damn day? I hate Thanksgiving, I always knew I was too good for this family, They all always laughed when I said I wanted a DNA test for Christmas because there was no way I could have the same type of blood running through my veins as those pigs that are eating as if the world was going to end tomorrow everyone laughed… except for grandfather it seemed that out of everyone in the family he was the only one who understood what I wanted to say.

When he came of age I ran out of the house I couldn't bear to be with them another day We lived in a small apartment in the poor part of the city I was an only child But even so I had to share a room with Grandpa John, a bald man of more than 100 kilos, his cheeks were swollen from all the extra fat, but he hid his double chin with that mustache and that almost white beard over the years, that old man lived like a parasite of our family since I was born, maybe if he moved his ass and got a job my parents would have bought me better clothes or the latest iPhone, the only time he would move his ass off the couch was at Christmas to be mall Santa.

My room The smell of my room was disgusting in a mixture of the old man's scent and my sweaty gym clothes, But what made him the worst roommate in the world was his pajamas his old yellow underpants that were once white On top of that he wouldn't let me sleep because of his grotesque snores that could only be heard in my room And my parents will be a happy couple, My mother was a housewife and used to cook the greasiest and most delicious meals in the whole neighborhood and my father was a boring accountant addict to the smell of the cigarette just like the grandfather.

I was the complete opposite of my family, I was much taller, much more handsome, and of course athletic. I would do anything to get out of my house and get away from my obese family, even joining a gym when I was 12 years old to spend 3 hours a day exercising Over time I began to notice results in my appearance Over the years I became a Fitness influencer, I got a couple of tattoos, bought a red sports car, and got the hell out of my house the first chance I got.

For some years I was living my life as far away from my family as possible, I stopped calling home even when my mother did not stop calling me for a single day, I only returned home for a month for these dates, the rest of the year I used to have hot tub parties with gorgeous supermodels, but now…I'm stuck here again, only this time my chains aren't my age…well sort of.

I was sick of this I was sick of pretending everything is normal But I had to get on with this if I wanted my body back, it hasn't even been 24 hours since I woke up this morning to my grandpa's obese old body next to my bed I thought I was dreaming when the first thing I saw when I looked down was a substantial misshapen hairy belly instead of a huge morning boner between my legs, everything in the distance was blurry, but I could clearly see my 2 huge tits full of fat.

Furthermore, I panicked and with my fat and old hands, I sat on the bed and looked around for an explanation of why I was now in my grandfather's body of 80 years and 160 kilos, with my calloused hands I caressed my hairy belly trying to calm down. Feeling like screaming, I looked around to see if this was my room. But before I had a heart attack trying to stand up, Grandpa John walked into the room in my body.

He put my glasses on and for the first time I saw that face from a more humble perspective, We were silent for a couple of minutes, and we both looked at each other from top to bottom, His look was intimidating, and his body was incredibly hot, years in the gym they were in that body, I built that body since I was a chubby teenager and now… I felt uncomfortable around it.

I used to have all of that, perfect curls, those huge, arrogantly flaunting biceps that I dyed in ink on a night out with my friends, he was just too perfect, handsome, and young... or maybe now my self-esteem was in the ground now that I was in the grandfather's body

He was the first to speak, and surprisingly he had completely dominated my way of speaking, moving, and even how to flirt, with his strong and melodious voice he explained to me what a horrible grandson and horrible son I am to the whole family so he decided to punish me, Now I'll have to live like a fucking old man until next year!

-Grand-... Jackson, Mama is calling you, it's time for dinner- I still had to get used to my new harsh voice and having to walk carrying Grandpa's huge belly.

-Tell him I'm coming... I hope there's something I can eat, don't worry Jackson I'm not going to ruin your body eating all that garbage that you should love now, you have something very good here, but surely you're hungry right? old man- He never stopped smiling while we talked, showing those white teeth that one of my sponsors had paid for.

He was right, I was hungry, the smell of Thanksgiving dinner had been driving me crazy since morning, and I'd had to content myself with a big packet of chips and a couple of cans of beer while watching football with my Father…maybe if I am part of this family, but I would have more than a month to find out.

Hey! Happy TG! if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 5

Hello hello! After a bit of a delay I am very happy to present you with part 5 of Home Sweet Home! This chapter we get to see William and Reader's first date, super cute, super fluffy, I've been dealing with a lot of emotions so a lot of gentle reassuring William about readers self doubts. I hope you guys enjoy, if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: None

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 4,913

Part 4 - Part 6

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You stretched with a soft sigh, your feet sliding against the cool, soft sheets. A smile spreads across your face at the feeling of William’s arm slung over your waist. Your eyes fluttered open, a thin slit of light through your heavy curtains the only indicator that it was morning. You roll over, your hand trailing over his stomach as you cuddle into his chest. He lets out a soft hum as he wakes up, “good morning beautiful.” His voice raspy and thick with sleep.

“Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up.” You whisper, placing a soft kiss to his chest.

“Why are you apologizing? I get woken up to the most beautiful sight in the world.” He tilts your chin up, his lips capturing yours in a slow, needy kiss. His hand kneads at your waist, you smile as his mustache tickles your nose.

“What's the plan for today?” He rolls into his back with a groan, pulling you on top of him in the process. You lay your chin on his chest, bright, sparkling eyes staring up at him. He smiles softly, tucking some loose hair behind your ear.

“Well,” he starts, “we need to go to the store, we’ll try to make it quick but we have nothing.” You both share a chuckle. “And then we come back here and work our butts off until dinner.”

“And see you be all sexy and strong lifting those heavy boxes again? Yes please.” You grin at him, yelping as he lightly pinches your butt.

“You always have your mind in the gutter, don't you?” He teases back. “I'm surprised you can still even consider me sexy.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” You reach up to gently caress his cheek, he lets out a soft sigh as he leans into your touch. “You're not allowed to be mean to my husband, I'll have to beat you up.” He chuckles at your serious expression.

“I'm an old man now, rabbit.” He responds wistfully, combing his fingers through your hair as he studies your face. “I'm definitely not the rugged, muscular little punk I used to be.” He chuckles and you can't help but breathe out a laugh in response. Remembering all the photos of a much skinnier more awkward reflection of your husband that Henry had shown you. ‘The pride and joy of our robotics team.’ he would always muse, struggling not to get emotional over the loving expression you had while looking at them. “I've got all these wrinkles now, my hair’s going gray-”

“William,” he snaps his mouth shut at the sound of your voice. Your age difference was something that had eaten at him since the two of you had first started dating. Always worried he was going to move too fast or make you feel tied down. He never could quite wrap his head around how a pretty young thing like you could stand being around a miserable old fart like him. “It wouldn't matter if you were 20 years younger and were built like some sort of Greek God.” You shuffle around under the blankets, allowing you to push yourself up enough to be face to face with him, the tip of your nose brushing his as you talk. “I wouldn't give up any of the time you and I have spent together for anything. Will, I love you. A few wrinkles and a change in your hair color isn't going to change any of that.”

“So, you don't mind that I don't have shredded abs?” He jokes, making you laugh in response. Despite the sudden loss of seriousness you could tell your words helped.

“Abs are overrated,” you shoo off the thought with your hand. “I happen to love your soft tummy.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Well I'm glad.” He pulls you in for a soft kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He mumbles against your lips.

“You're one to talk.” You quip back. He smiles before pulling you back to him. You hum as you feel his arm tighten around your waist, wanting to feel every curve of your body pressed firmly to his. The way William’s lips moved against yours was slow and methodical, he always knew how to kiss you in a way that left you feeling utterly breathless and dizzy by the end of it. You rest your forehead against his when you separate. Both of you shared soft, tired smiles as you enjoyed being in each other's company. He reaches over to his nightstand with a groan, wiping his hand down his face before putting on his glasses.

“What do you say sweetheart? Ready to start the day?” You nod, both of you reluctantly leaving the warmth of your bed and each other's arms as you got ready to tackle whatever obstacles you would face.

You stood at William’s side, trying to manage your wild bed head as he brushed his teeth. “What do you want for dinner?” He asks with a mouthful of toothpaste.

“I don't know, something easy.” You wince slightly as your brush gets caught on a particularly nasty snarl. “We could always get something frozen to throw in the oven I guess.”

“Absolutely not, I won't let my wife eat that filth if I can help it.” He places a kiss on your head as he heads out of the bathroom. You chuckle, shaking your head in response. “Think about it, I'm gonna go start the car.” He disappears around the door with a wink. You groaned at his request, you hated making food decisions. You threw on some clothes, deeming your appearance good enough for the grocery store, before heading downstairs. William stood at your kitchen counter, holding an old recipe book that looked almost comically small in his massive hands.

“Whatcha got there?” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“I saw this in your box of memories yesterday.” He smiles down at you, lowering the book in order to make it easier for you to read it. You looked at the worn, yellowing pages with a special fondness. This was the one cookbook William owned, a collection of recipes put together by a group of little old ladies around Hurricane. One of them managed to pass it off to him at their grandson’s birthday years ago, saying how a hard working man like him deserved some good home cooked meals every now and then. You ran your fingers over your husband’s handwriting in the margins next to one recipe ‘add garlic’. On the next page there was a recipe for chocolate cake, next to it in your own neat script it read ‘Will’s favorite' punctuated with a heart.

“Is this the one that has-”

“The recipe from our first date.” You finish in unison.

“Yes it is.” He chuckles. You remembered it like it was yesterday. The whole morning went horribly before you were supposed to spend the day with Will, you were about ready to call him to reschedule. “I think we both could use some comfort food tonight, what do you think?”

“I think that sounds wonderful.” You jump slightly as he snaps the cookbook shut in front of your face, you push him playfully before the two of you head out.

Will’s hand was warm as he held your own, his thumb languidly rubbing over your knuckles as he drove. Your eyes trailed over the treeline as it whipped past your window, smiling softly to yourself as you reminisced about how something as small and silly as beef stew could hold such a powerful memory.

You tried your best to quiet your sniffling as you listened to the phone ring, your heart jumping into your throat when you heard the click of the receiver being picked up. “Hello?” You felt yourself begin to well up all over again at the sound of his voice.

“Hey William, it’s-uh, it’s me.” You hoped he would be able to recognize your voice despite it cracking. “I think I'm going to need to reschedule-”

“Honey what's wrong?” The genuine concern in his voice opened the floodgates. A sob cracked free from your throat as you tried to explain the situation. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No.” You manage to croak out.

“Can I come see you?” You froze for a moment. He wasn't mad about you canceling at the last minute, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Yeah, that's fine.” You stutter.

“I'll be there in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You nod before remembering he couldn't see you. You rolled your eyes over how ridiculous you were being.

“Okay, I'll be here.” You sniffle before hanging up. You jumped as your buzzer rang, picking yourself up to the couch and slowly shuffling over to unlock the door. You undid the chain latch, meeting William in the hallway.

“Rabbit,” he starts softly. Seeing your cheeks still red and streaked with tears from another wave of crying that had hit you when he was on his way over. “Come here beautiful.” You hurried forward, melting into his embrace as he wrapped his strong arms around you. His fingers gently slide into your hair, cradling your head against his chest. You felt stupid for crying, you were supposed to be going out on this big, fancy date William had set up and now you've ruined it.

“I'm sorry.” You manage to get out after you have calmed yourself down somewhat. “You went through all the trouble of getting us that reservation-” he cuts you off, quietly shushing you as he continues to hold you, slightly rocking side to side.

“It’s okay bunny. It's not like we’re going to get banned from the restaurant for canceling our table.” He chuckles, managing to elicit a soft laugh from you as well. “But, I would like to know what's making my girl so upset.” He nods in the direction of your apartment. “Would it be alright if I came in for a minute?” You nod, his hand instantly taking yours as you separated from his embrace.

“I'm sorry about the mess, this morning definitely didn't go as planned.” He looked around the cramped space. The flowers William had sent you lay on the kitchen counter, the stems still glistening with water. A half cleaned up pile of broken glass lay on the floor next to the counter. He noticed a white dress that appeared to be covered in some type of tomato sauce laying in a heap on the dining room table. You started to explain before he even had a chance to question it. “My roommate got into a big fight with her boyfriend this morning.” William sat next to you where you had positioned yourself on the couch, elbows resting on his knees and his hands folded neatly in front of him as he listened attentively to what you had to say. “I was woken up by them yelling at each other, I heard some glass smash so I came out here to try and diffuse the situation. It turns out he had smashed the vace I had put your flowers in onto the floor.” You let out a weak chuckle as you felt a tear slip down your cheek. William reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours in an attempt to offer some form of comfort without risking overwhelming you further. “And my-uh, my dress…” you looked over at the table, your throat growing tight at the sight. “He also ruined my dress in the process of us throwing him out. So now I have nothing to wear, and the flowers you got me are starting to wilt, and I ruined our date-”

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You didn't ruin anything.” He moves closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. “There’s going to be plenty of other fancy dinners. Baby, I'm not upset over you not wanting to go out after the morning you've had.” He places a kiss on the top of your head, his thumb soothingly rubbing your shoulder. “Would you like to come spend the day at my place?” He asks in an almost timid manner. You look up at him, eyes still wet with tears. It made his chest tighten, you looked so small against his much larger form.

“I'd like that.” You smile.

“You go get ready, I'll clean up in here.” He offers with a small nod.

“Oh, I can't ask you to do that.” Your breath catches in your throat as he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers.

“Don't worry about it bunny.” He tucks some hair behind your ear. He nods for you to go get ready. You scurry off to your room, William cleaning up the glass on the floor. He searched through your cupboards, finding a suitable enough vessel to hold the flowers you seemed to love. He smiles at how adorable you were, getting upset over something so simple, it was sweet. His attention turned to the dress on the table, making an irritated sound as he picked it up. It wasn't a guarantee he would be able to get the sauce out, but hand washing it in the sink couldn't hurt. He thought about how pretty you would've looked all dressed up. Though somehow he thinks your new plan would end up being more fun.

You hurriedly looked through your closet for something to wear, not wanting to appear like you were trying too hard to impress him. You decided on a cute pair of jeans and your favorite T-shirt. You passed back out into the kitchen, smiling as you saw the large man hunched over your sink, trying to get the stain out of your dress. “Will?” He paused, a smile creeping across his features. This was the first time you had called him Will.

“I got it mostly out, we can throw it in the wash at my place if you want.” You nod, smiling at him adoringly.

“I wouldn't want to trouble you.” You start.

“It's no problem.” He rushes to reassure you. He slowly steps closer to you, almost as if he was worried he was going to scare you off. “You, uh, look like you’re going to cry again.”

“You’re just really nice, that’s all.” You crack out a laugh, William chuckling alongside you.

“Well, I’d like to be able to take care of my girl when she needs me.” He winks, making your cheeks flush. He holds out his arm for you to take, you smile softly as he pulls you into his side.

William opened the door, letting you step inside before him. You neatly tucked your shoes beside the door before padding across the soft gray carpet. Looking around you would definitely define William as a minimalist. You didn’t see any pictures or trinkets, everything was very neat and orderly. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to go start something for dinner.” You ended up trailing after him into the kitchen, wanting to spend as much time with him as you could. He unzips his hoodie, tossing it at you with a flirtatious smile. “You look cold.” You slip your arms into the too long sleeves, blushing slightly as you wrap yourself up in the warm fabric. William’s sweatshirt smelled like machine oil, cheap cigarettes, and musky, warm cologne. He pulled out a large wooden cutting board from one of the drawers, brandishing a pristinely sharp knife not long after. He hums softly to himself as he wanders around his kitchen, pulling ingredients from cupboards and setting them all out in a row on the counter top. He pulls out a large stew pot from a small closet, setting it on the stove as he sets in motion preparing the meal he had decided on.

“Do you want any help?” You offer with a smile.

“You just sit back and relax, bunny. Throwing this together shouldn’t take me too long.” The two of you chatted idly as he cooked. You had always enjoyed William’s dry humor, but this was the first time you had seen his full genuine personality outside of Freddy’s.

“You’re a gossip!” You exclaim your accusation through a fit of laughter. He gives you an offended look, his hand clapping against his chest.

“Me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You couldn’t miss the smirk that passed across his lips as he turned his attention back to the cutting board. “You’re acting like I don’t know about your and Ashley’s little gossip sessions at the prize counter.” He rebuttals in a teasing tone. He straightens up, striding over to you. He puts a hand on either side of your thighs, caging you on the counter, “I bet you talk about me, don’t you?” He gives you a wink and a lopsided smile. Your cheeks immediately heated up as you thought about how much his name actually came up between the two of you. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before moving away. He glances up at you as he slides a cutting board of carrots into the large pot at his side. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to relax.” He remarks happily.

“You promise you’re not mad about having to cancel the reservation?” You ask nervously, balling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt in your hands.

“I’m happy just spending time with you.” A small smile creeps across your lips at the sincerity in his voice. “You had a bad morning, I wouldn’t want to go out either.” He reaches out for your hand, you accept his request with a flustered grin. “Plan’s can change, okay? I won’t be upset.” He tries his best to reassure you.

It was a rainy day outside, the stew was left to cook on the stove. Will held your hand loosely in his, giving it a gentle squeeze whenever he reached a point of interest when he was talking about one of his newest projects. He leads you into his workshop, keeping you close to him as he guides you around various piles of mechanical parts. His hands find their way to your waist, easily lifting you from the floor to set you on a clear space of workbench. He bumps a button with his elbow, the garage opening to let in some of the warm, damp air from outside. “Mr. Emily was right about you being a workaholic.” You tease.

“It’s not my fault there's always work to be done.” He bites the tip of his tongue as he concentrates on what he had pulled in front of him, you noticed the glint of something silver catching on his front teeth.

“Will… is that a piercing?” You ask with genuine curiosity. His eyes widened slightly for a second before he cursed under his breath.

“I forgot I had that in.” He admits bashfully. “I got it in college, I just got so used to wearing it I never let it close.” You hop down from your position perched on the workbench, placing yourself directly in front of him.

“Show me.” You nod up at him. He raises an eyebrow and smirks slightly at your demanding town. He stoops lower, bringing himself face to face with you.

“I don’t know,” he purrs, “you didn’t ask very nicely.” You swallow thickly at his gravelly tone.

“Show me, please?” You try again. He chuckles at your flustered appearance before sticking out his long tongue, showing off the silver barbell. “Wow.” You found yourself nearly drooling at the sight of it, something about the small piercing made your heart race in your chest. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that William was a very attractive man, with his sharp features and broad, strong body he's drawn the attention of many wandering eyes. But, this new found detail about him only seemed to highlight the tough yet playful attitude you had grown enamored by.

“Maybe if you're good I'll show you how talented I am at putting it to good use.” He winks with a smirk. “Come on, this stuff can wait.” He places a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist as you're escorted back inside of the house. It hadn't occurred to you just how much of Will’s day you had disrupted up until now. He was supposed to come pick you up at six o'clock sharp, glancing at a clock that ticked quietly on the wall you had realized it wasn’t even eleven.

“Will, I don't want to get in your way if you're busy.” You speak up, both of you pausing in unison.

“Bunny, let me tell you something.” He fully turns to face you, his hands resting comfortably on your waist. His dark silver eyes held a particular softness as they scanned over your features, his hands sliding around your back to pull you closer to him. He speaks in a low tone, giving the conversation a new found sense of intimacy. “I'm in no rush to get that work done, and if I'm being entirely honest if you left right now I wouldn't be able to get the image of how cute you look in my sweatshirt out of my head all day.” He breathes out a laugh. “I know you're worried about being a disruption but honey I promise you you're not. I want to spend time with you, I want to be there to make you feel better. If that means pushing off a couple projects to cook a homemade meal and to spend the day with you… we'll, I don't know about you but that sounds pretty alright to me.” He smiles softly at you, giving you time to allow his words to sink in.

You couldn't get over just how different he was than anyone you had been with in the past. There was no yelling because of the wasted effort, no being left alone to wallow in how awful you felt about messing everything up. Right now there was only you and William; how warm his large hands felt as he soothingly rubs his thumbs over your waist, how the smell of dinner cooking in the kitchen drifted through the hall, how he looked at you with so much kindness and understanding, and that was plenty. You pushed into him, burying your face against his chest as you welled up with emotion. William held you tightly against him, determined to brush away any negative thoughts that tried to creep their way in from the back of your mind. He had a pretty good idea of the guys you had experienced before him, the shithead he had met before he confessed to you said enough. You were used to being pushed around and treated like you were never enough, leaving you to feel like you were always taking up too much space and anything that went wrong immediately fell into your lap. William hoped that, given enough time, he would be able to help you remedy that way of thinking. “How about we throw on a movie? It's Saturday, there's bound to be something on.” He offers in a patient tone.

“I'd like that.” You sniffle in response. You slip your hand into his, allowing him to guide you to the living room. He pulled you into his side as he clicks on the TV, absentmindedly flicking through the station past re-runs of whatever shitty sitcom happened to be on and action movies that would definitely ruin the quiet intimacy the two of you had fallen into. He paused on a romantic comedy, looking down to gauge your reaction. You adjusted yourself in order to be more comfortable, your arm resting across Will’s stomach as your head fell against his shoulder. He was praying you wouldn't ask him anything about the movie he had thrown on, he wouldn't have been able to focus on it right now if he tried. Your small form was so warm against his side, the sweet scent of your shampoo was nearly intoxicating as he waited for you to get comfortable. He pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch, laying it over both of your laps.

“Will?” You call for him softly.

“Yes, rabbit?” His eyes drift down to you and the sight alone was enough to nearly break him. You looked so incredibly tiny curled up against him, your big doe eyes holding so much adoration as you gazed up at him. William froze, feeling as if he even breathed in this moment it would be over.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.” His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the sight of your sweet smile. You slowly and carefully pushed yourself upwards, your lips pressing against his scruffy cheek.

“Of course, bunny.” He smiles, eyes dropping to your lips for a brief moment before he shook the thought from his mind. Today was about making sure you were alright, kissing you should be the furthest thing from his mind right now. Unfortunately for him, it was all he was able to think about since the two of you had started seeing each other. He hadn't kissed you since the night of his confession, worried that he would take things too quickly without realizing it. He jumped slightly as the timer on the stove started to beep. “I'll be right back.” He places a kiss to your forehead before getting up. Once he enters the kitchen, out of your line of sight, he drags a hand down his face with a soft groan. “Get a hold of yourself.” He chastises himself quietly.

You remained curled up on the sofa, smiling to yourself as you ran your fingers over the soft material of the blanket William had draped over your legs. You glanced back at the kitchen before turning back to the TV with a soft sigh. There was something about being with William that was so undeniably effortless; the way he pulled you into his arms, your body molding to his like you were always made to be pressed against one another, the softness in his voice that was reserved just for you, how the smell of his cologne calmed your ever racing mind. Your fingers drifted to your bottom lip, breathing out a laugh as you thought about your first kiss. It felt like a lifetime since then, your mind often wandering to the memory, leaving your heart racing and your cheeks flushed. You knew William wanted to take things slow, he was very concerned about you feeling pressured to do things you weren't comfortable with just because he was older. Even though you constantly reassured him that wasn't the case he still seemed to treat you as if you were made of glass. You heard the soft clinking of him grabbing soup mugs from a cabinet, your feet thudding softly against the hardwood floor as you stood from the couch. You sucked in a deep breath as you nervously made your way towards the kitchen, thumb running over the worn fabric of your boyfriend’s sweatshirt. William stood at the stove, humming softly to himself as he added the finishing touches on the dinner he prepared. You swallowed thickly as you watched his muscles shift underneath his fitted black T-shirt. “Will?” You continued to walk forward as you called his name, knowing if you stopped now you would lose your nerve. He turns to face you, his silver eyes catching yours. His arms opened to greet you the moment he realized how close you already were, your hands slid over his shoulders as his landed on your waist. You pushed yourself up on your toes, guiding his lips down to meet yours. He lets out a surprised yet pleased sound, melting into you as he kisses you back. You both pulled back, breathless and wide eyed. He swore every time he looked at you he found something new to fall in love with. The blush that dominated your cheeks from doing something so bold, how small you looked wrapped up in his sweatshirt, he hoped he would be able to keep the memory of you looking like this forever.

“Will?” He’s jolted back to the present by you nudging his shoulder. “Everything alright, baby? You spaced out.” He looked down at you now by his side. Your soft smile and twinkling eyes are still as captivating as they always have been.

“Yeah bunny, I'm alright. Just thinking about our first date.” He smiles. The two of you stood in your kitchen preparing the ingredients for the stew, the sound of you singing along to the radio a learned comfort to William’s ears. He still couldn't wrap his head around why you chose him of all people, his gruff and dry demeanor was a sharp contrast to your bubbly personality. Yet, despite how difficult he knew he could be sometimes, your love for one another never waivered. It took him a long time to be able to provide for you the way he felt you deserved, lots of late nights at the pizzeria and sacrifice were needed to get to where the two of you are now. But, through every rough patch, every struggle that would have seemed insurmountable on his own, it only solidified one thing.

You loved each other.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda (if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!)

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/767347744265355264/things-i-hate-that-i-thought-were-tumblr?source=share

Anon, if at all possible, grow a beard. I know that's bad advice because you might not be able to go on HRT and might not even get good facial hair if you do, but if that is possible for you, absolutely wear a bit of scruff.

My beard is the only thing that's really changed about my looks since I was a college freshman. I'm 37 now, I started wearing a beard around age 30, and I still look 25. I can't even grow much on my cheeks, I just wear a small goatee and mustache.

And the amount of respect I got from random strangers and people I end up stuck with absolutely skyrocketed almost as soon as I stopped shaving.

I'm autistic and I used to be treated as a freak and a weirdo and everyone made it very clear that I was Doing Gender Wrong. I was also treated like an idiot child.

But now I'm not only treated like a man, but like an adult. The infantilization is completely gone in person even though people guess my age to be exactly the same (it's still there online and in other contexts where people can't see my face, so I know it's the beard, not my mannerisms or method of communication, that makes people treat me like I'm not 5). The autistic traits are less commonly pointed out and when they are they're more likelt to be pointed out as neutrally weird things rather than as terrible social failures which must be corrected.

I dress the same, I act the same, I talk the same, my social skills haven't improved in the slightest since I actually was 25. But one minor fashion choice makes people treat me like an entirely different person.

It sucks, it's stupid. It's straight up toxic masculinity. I want to dismantle whatever gendered ideas are making people respect me simply because I don't shave my chin.

But in the meantime, take any basic human decency you can get. It'll be better for one guy to get through a college course without being misgendered and infantilized to his face than it will be for him to set some example of how men don't need to have beards to be real people.

It's extra stupid because cis men who aren't autistic and who perform gender in a way that readers correctly to randos can wear as little facial hair as they want and still be correctly gendered and treated like adults, but autistic men and trans men and men who like to wear lace and any other types of men who aren't "normal" don't get that default basic human decency.

But apparently a stupid little goatee can steamroll over a giant pile of toxic masculinity and transphobia and ableism. Use it if you got it.

--

[odetodilfs]

Ride me, cowboy

Just some sub bottom whisky cause dominating dominant men is hot.

Pairing: top m!reader x bottom Agent whisky Content: Pet names, teasing, slight role-play and breeding Also people wanted to be tagged: @sangyeonara @littlelizardbish

Just another afternoon with your boyfriend Jack, when he wasn’t busy he would always be at home, normally bring you a little gift every time he came back, this time he brought you cookies, the ones he knew you loved, and now here he was, in your arms, as you played with his hair and kissed him, “Mmm- right there-” he said, as you stroked a spot he liked on his head, but when he said that, your mind thought about something else… 

Jack had a lot of ass, and ever since the start of your relationship he was always the one on top in the bedroom, but lately you got these thoughts about fucking him, having him be the one screaming in pleasure or to go harder. You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts by looking at Jack’s face, with his mustache and how happy he looked, eyes closed, wide smile across his face as he laid his head on your hand as you caressed his hair, basking in the feeling like a dog.

“You know you can stroke something else right?” he winked as he said that, “Oh- Jack- if you want to?” you almost let it out…

“Hmm, you want something else don’t you?” he said, with that smirk that managed to get anything out of you, “Yes…” you said, your cheeks growing red as you admitted, “What is it, sugar?” he said, 

“I… I wanna fuck you, like fuck your ass” you said, amazed at the words coming out of your mouth, he laid there, still in your arms, smirking but thoughtful, 

“I don’t see why I couldn’t..” he said “Really?” you interrupted him, you were so excited, “Yeah,” he laughed at your inability to contain your excitement, “I mean, I ride horses normally, but I’d love it if it was your cock too” he said, a horny grin appearing across his face, as his position went to between your legs, taking off your pants and admiring your cock as it stood, “Fuck, sugar, you’re so hard for me…” he said, he knew how much you loved it when he called you “sugar”.

“Suck it,” you said, you didn’t know why, but the way he was with your cock close to his mouth, in such a submissive position, and the fact that he had such high ego, that “everyone is in love with me” attitude and being so dominant that dominating and being superior to the man made you feel so turned on. He finally put his lips to your dick and holy fuck did it feel good… he was an absolute expert at sucking, his tongue swirling expertly on your tip, then taking you down his throat, his throat and mouth were so warm and on top of that, he kept jerking your cock.

After 5 minutes of him slobbering all over your cock, with a stream of a mix of your precum and his spit down his chin, it was clear you both wanted to get onto the actual action, but Jack was dead set on pleasing you, so he wouldn’t stop unless you told him to, “J-Jack- I wanna- fuck you now-” you managed to moan as his tongue once again made you shiver as he licked your tip and slid his mouth off of your cock, “You want to baby?” he asked, checking to make sure, “yeah” you smiled, he reached for the lube and the nightstand and smeared it on your cock, standing proudly, ready to be inside him, “Wait” you held him as he was about to get on your cock, “wear your hat, how are you gonna be a cowboy and not wear your hat?” you teased, grabbing his hat and handing it to him, he put it on, “Like this?” he asked, “Hell yeah” you smirked.

“It’s the first time I’ve bottomed in my life” he confessed, eyes darting away from you to save the embarrassment, “hey, it’s okay, I’ll be gentle” you reassured him, “Can I ride you?” he asked, “Yeah, get on here, cowboy” both of you laughing as you said this, he started putting your cock inside him, you could tell it was his first time bottoming because goddamn was he tight, his walls coated your cock, fitting you like a glove, “Oh fuck- oh fuck-” he whimpered as he slid your dick deeper inside him

“Shhh- shh baby, you’re taking me so well, so well” you praised him, until finally, your whole cock was inside him, “Ride it cowboy” you ordered him, as you watched him jump up and down on your cock, the confident, dominant man you knew had disappeared, he had turned into a moaning, sweaty mess barely able to mutter a coherent sentence, “baby- please- please” he begged without knowing what he wanted. As he rode you and chased his orgasm his hat slowly started slipping off, as he kept trying to tell you to put it back on but the pleasure he felt was so intense he couldn’t even speak.

“How are you, baby? Like riding that dick?” you asked teasingly, 

“Y-yes I- am!! “ he moaned loudly as your cock hit his prostate over and over again, you lifted your back from the bed and wrapped your arms around him as he rode you, you licked at his chest, tasting the salty sweat that was due to your cock in his ass, he kept riding you, he couldn’t get enough and the way he was furiously humping your cock chasing his orgasm just looked so hot, by now, his hat was on the floor, “Oh fuck- it feels so good-” he whimpered, goddamn this man was gonna make you cum hard, you wanted to claim him, make him yours, and yours only.

“Fuck, keep riding that dick baby, be a good little whore for me and ride that dick” you whispered seductively in his ear, that was enough for him, and he whimpered as he came between your bodies, his walls fluterring around your dick and tightening more than ever as his dick  squirted cum like no tomorrow, the pleasure so intense tears were rolling down his face, this sight pushed you off the edge, followed by a loud moan from you as you unleashed your load inside Jack, coating his walls in you, making him belong to you. You could see your cum leaking from his ass and the way his asshole gaped trying to close from the assault you had just given to it.

“Fuck… that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had” he said, panting and still recovering from the intensity, “Was it good baby” you asked, obviously knowing it was, “It wasn’t” he said, you looked at him puzzled, “It was amazing,sugar” he said as he kissed you and brought you into his arms, “No- darling I wanna hold you” you whined, “Sure, hold me then” he said as he positioned himself in your arms, starting to doze off, “You wrecked my hole by the way” he said, chuckling,

“Yeah, I saw, we’ll take care of that tomorrow, okay?” you looked down at him, “Whatever you wish, sugar” he said as you both dozed off, absolutely spent.

[rubykgrant]

I made a couple minor adjustments (because I can never just leave things alone), so here they are again; Vanessa Kimball, Donald Doyle, Dr Emily Grey, the Mercs (Samuel Ortez, AKA Locus. Isaac Gates, AKA Felix. Mason Wu, AKA Siris) and the Lieutenants of Chorus (Charles Palomo, Katie Jensen, an OC Molly Dahl/Volleyball, Antoine Bitters, Duri Matthews, John Elizabeth Andersmith). All finished! On the left are the signature/armor colors, and the right are their individual colors

I had designs for the Lieutenants already, but I made some adjustments/edits, so here they are again. Grey and Doyle gave me SO MUCH TROUBLE, but I’m finally satisfied with them. Al though we saw the faces for Locus, Felix, and Mason, I wanted to translate that into my pixel style, and also do versions of them later on (this is Locus when he’s done with Chorus, and moving on. this is Felix in the middle of Chorus, when he was actually thriving in his element. This is Mason after he’s had some down time, way after Felix literally stabbed him in the back). I do all of these in MS Paint with a mouse, which started because it was the quickest way to scribble something up and share it… but after practicing for a couple years now, my style has improved (at least a little). My favorite thing to do with character designs is give everybody different features with the shapes of their eyes/noses/chins/mouths, and hairstyles~

Design notes for the characters below-

For Kimball, I’m imagining her as Canadian First Nations (Kainai). During the most stressful parts of Chorus, she had to constantly worry about everybody just surviving, but now that things have settled down, they all have a chance to LIVE, and be themselves (she’s wearing jewelry for the first time in a few years, earrings with ammolite gemstones). She has dark hair parted and pulled back in two braids. She’s in her late 20s, and has defined features, not harsh or striking, but still strong.

I tried a few different hair colors with Doyle, and finally settled on him being a carrot-top, and a little curly. He’s got a mustache, and I REALLY tried to make sure it doesn’t look like “ginger Wyoming” haha. I ecided to give him a little cleft in his chin (he also has exactly ONE scar; he doesn’t like people to see it, because it gives the false impression he was injured while fighting, and they start thinking he’s “brave” or something. he got it from falling off his bike and getting scrapped by a tree branch when he was a kid)

With Grey, I like to imagine that she’s been giving her hair vibrant colors for years, a little splash of happiness in a weary world. Her hair is parted in the middle, a longer length falling to one side, the other pinned back with two hair clips. The rest of her hair is wound up in a bun. The hair in her bun is a pale yellow, most of her hair is a very light pink, and the longer length is a gradient of pastel purple-blue. She has a small, heart-shaped mouth with a little bit of color (bright cherry-punch lip balm), and smile lines around her mouth. I really wanted her to have unique and distinct shapes in her face. Across her back and left shoulder is an old scar from an explosion

Locus actually wasn’t doing so great Chorus, not eating or sleeping enough, what with the whole crisis involved; thinking of himself as a murder-machine unable to see the worth of kindness or mercy, and THEN recovering enough humanity to be horrified by his actions thus considering himself a monster without a purpose… y'know, that whole deal. Anyway, the Reds and Blues force him to be a person again, so he gained some weight back. While he has a very strong jaw, it’s kind of low where the angle is (so he doesn’t have a “long” chin, but a wide one). He also has pretty defined cheek bones, and other features as well. He’s letting his hair recover some of the naturally curly texture as well

Felix, on the other hand, was doing just fine and dandy on Chorus (and probably sneaking off planet to get some Charon’s Fried Chicken while everybody else almost starved). He's a little older that the first look at him, with deeper lines in his face. He still has an undercut, the upper parts of his are is a little longer than before, parted in the middle. He has a way of looking very relaxed, even when he’s ready to snap and kill somebody… which is partially natural talent, but also very practiced, because he KNOWS how to use his charm to manipulate people. Once people know who he really is, he just looks like an a-hole. For those who meet him for the first time; he’s seems like a dude who is really chill and likes to laugh

After things fell apart with Locus and Felix (mainly, Felix trying to kill him), Mason took some time to recover and stayed under the radar for a few years. Eventually, both he and Megan work together with their own private detective agency (similar skills, but less of a bounty-hunter, more locating missing/kid-napped people, and helping others escape dangerous situations). He has clear, sharp angles to his face (I wanted to try and emphasize that the features aren’t “scary”, but beautiful). He has a nick in his left ear, and over his left eyebrow. He’s grown a beard, and let his hair get longer (it was probably even more so while he was hiding, but he’s recently trimmed it a little). He has some salt-and-pepper going on, very distinguished~

Palomo is a kid who has recently gone through both an emotional groth-spurt and a physical growth-spurt, so he’s still sort of getting used to himself. He thought he was done with the awkward teen years, but now comes the awkward 20s! He’s a little bit of a string-bean, with striking features that still show his softer side. He keeps his hair short, and it just kind of spikes up (he’s a natural anime kid haha). I decided he wears glasses (clear frames). I’m imagining him as mixed Italian and Mexican.

I think a lot of people picture Katie with braids/freckles, and I’m no different. It just looks cute on her. She has a strong chin, with somewhat angular features, a little bit of a squared jawline, but not too defined. She’s sort of in the middle with the kids of Chorus, not very young, but still not part of the older group. She’s tall, just a bit more than Palomo. Her family is Jewish (from Poland and Russia back in the day, but her more recent relatives lived in Canada)

I’m calling the Volleyball Girl Molly Dahl, and her nick-name is Dolly (yes, because it rhymes, haha). She’s very cute, and looks younger than she actually is (older than Jensen by a couple years, so just barely out of her early-20s). Her features are very soft, and sort of “angelic”. She’s also very athletic, and better at unarmed fighting than most of the others. I imagined her being Black (background being Afro-Latina and Caribbean). She has her natural hair kept back in an afro with a pink headband

Bitters is not only older than some of the other kids here, but he even had more memories of life before Chorus (Bitters was LITERALLY bitter about how this was all the others knew, and he wished they could actually have a chance to be KIDS). Despite trying to go for a bored-rebellious attitude all the time, he’s secretly sweet and caring. He’s still young, and has a slightly slender, gentle shape to his face. He’s Black (Creole), and has coiled hair pulled back (a twist and short ponytail). He has his left eyebrow pierced

Matthews didn’t have much time to cut his hair back during the whole war incident, but later on Grif actually did something nice and told him his long hair was cool (now that he’s not actively trying to be a jerk, Grif actually LIKES this kid). Matthews decided to keep it long, coming down around his shoulders, parted off-center. I’m imagining him Korean, and so I gave him a first name to be part of that. He’s one of the younger kids, with a chubby body-type (although he’s the shortest of this group, he’s actually more of a medium-height; the rest of them are all just EXTRA tall)

I feel like Andersmith still cuts his hair like a dude going in for his first professional job interview (he actually looks a bit like a “prince charming” type, very strong features that are a little elegant). He’s one of the older kids, but because he’s tall, a few people assume he’s been around for a lot longer. Despite how serious he presents himself, he’s actually a very emotional person, and will passionately talk about how important hope and friendship is, and loves listening to the interests his friends have. I’m imagining him being mixed European and Southeast Asian (Norwegian and Filipino).

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 11 - The falling of the Number One

WARNING! This chapter ends with a cliffhanger and it’s really angsty for 2 more chapters. If you are sensitive, please wait until Chapter 14 is out.

18 +, please check the warnings.

Also: The beginning is really suggestive so please keep an eye for the red warning and skip that bit until you see the green writing!

Warnings: Suggestive then… uhm… Near-death experience, description of major injuries, mentions of blood, cliffhanger. I know, funky combination.

First Chapter Master List

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“I just read a fanfiction where you cheated on me with Pro Hero Shouto. What’s your opinion on that?” You look up from your phone with a grin. Izuku rolls his pretty eyes with a cheeky smile on his face and doesn’t respond for a second - probably have taken the question a bit more seriously than it was originally intended to be - as he sits on the sofa next to you in his pretty little glasses, which you can’t wait to ruin later. Well, that sounded like a threat but after the first few times you two ended up in a heated make out session while he was wearing it you decided to keep some spectacle wipes on the coffee table. It runs out as quickly as the milk in the fridge.

“Hm. While I’m quite certain I am a straight man, Kaminari said this to me once: You can’t call yourself straight unless you’ve tried both. Well, I haven’t tried both hence why there is a possibility that maybe, the fact that he’s a man wouldn’t be as much of a problem as it seems to be in my head. Although…” Izuku strokes the non-existent beard on his chin as he keeps pondering. Izuku can’t grow a beard by the way. He tried it once and ended up looking like a 14 year old. He literally had 10 little hairs on the two sides of his chin and a really thin “mustache” and that was it. Katsuki laughed his ass off that day. “Shouto is one of my best friends but if it comes to his personality, I’m not sure if I would be able to… think about him like that. I mean, can you even imagine him in bed with that face? Or kissing him and when you move away it’s just… his deadpanned face? Right in front of you? I would cry, Y/N. You know how much reassurance I need. I can’t see him clocking that there is a problem with me. He’s just… a little bit… emotionally constipated?”

“Wow. That was a really detailed response, thank you.” You gawk at your boyfriend who looks extremely happy from pleasing you. “So if you would need to choose one guy, who would you choose?”

“I would probably give Kacchan a chance.” Izuku blurts out without even thinking. Damn. “Not the old Kacchan, but this one. But I would miss being romantic and cheesy. I don’t think he does that too much. Then I have a friend, Rody, from Otheon. We got along really well while I was on a mission there. While he’s not the most honest person in the world he has a bird called Pino who’s basically connected to his soul and his real emotions are mirrored in the bird so for instance, let’s say he says something super happy but if he’s trying to hide that he’s sad, Pino will cry for him. It’s fascinating, really. But I don’t feel like I would be as happy as I am now with anyone else, to be honest. Man or a woman, it really doesn’t matter because even if you would leave me I would only look for you in everyone but there is no one in this whole wide world who would be able to be even as half as good as you are, so…” Izuku shies away from your gaze, his cheeks dusted pink. Your heart makes a somersault in your chest from his words; sometimes, it’s still unbelievable that this moment, here and now, is actually real and not just a daydream.

There is one thing weighting you down when it comes to this current situation though; the weird feeling in your stomach like everything is too good, too perfect and everything that’s this good must have an end date.

You read a lot of drama fanfictions before you actually ended up to be a main character in one and there was one recurring event in all of them; pro hero Deku dying. For you, for your country, from exhaustion, from an old, untreated injury… the list is endless but since you two got together you couldn’t even look at those stories without feeling sick. Izuku is a hero, one of the best ones at that, but being the best also means he’s the one fighting the most complicated battles, ones no one else can or no one has the guts to, depending on the situation. But it’s really hard to think about these dark, deep thoughts when Izuku slowly looks up, waiting for your response at his impromptu love confession, eyes bright and full of childish glee.

“What about you, Sweets?” Izuku asks cheekily, slowly crawling closer to you; he puts his cheek on your chest, snuggling into the soft bits, warm and content.

“Honestly? Call me a real fanatic but I never really wanted to date anyone else but you.” You admit sheepishly. “I did find Pro Hero Shouto handsome, I did like Katsuki’s bad boy vibes but… it was always you. Your kindness, your pretty little cheeks, the freckles, the curls, the way you go all shy when people ask you about love in interviews. You are so… pure, almost angelic. Even through the screen, you felt like someone I could trust with my life, not just as a hero, but as a person, a human being. You just feel… safe. Like the kinda person you want to marry and stay with forever. And now that I got to know you… I want nothing else but all of that, tenfold.”

“You want to marry me, Sweet Pea?” Izuku smiles with a tiny blush on his face as he sneakily pulls the strap of your camisole out of the way with his finger so he can pepper kisses all over your collarbones. Your whole face erupts in flames.

“Well… uhm… one day, yes, of course…” You mumble, a barely audible sigh leaving your lips as Izuku wets his own to make the seductive slide on your skin even more enjoyable.

“What else do you wanna do with me, Sweets?” Izuku sneaks further up, his kisses wet and so full of emotions your whole body trembles under him as the soft plush of his lips reaches your sensitive neck.

Warning! Cheeky

“Wh… Izu?” You try to look into Izuku’s eyes but your whole body freezes from his lustful gaze; his eyes are dark and there is something new sparkling in the depth of them, his eyelids fallen to half-mast as he gazes at your lips, soft but hungry and he takes a deep breath, tries to school his features but it’s way too late; his gaze is etched into your mind now, living there rent free for the rest of your life.

“Was that too much?” Izuku tries to pull away but you grab the back of his head, fingers clutching into the soft curls, keeping him in place and Izuku keens, a hiss leaving his mouth which ends up sounding like a moan by the end of it.

“I want… I want to go hiking with you again.” You mumble and you can barely hide your smile as Izuku looks up at you, utterly confused by the dramatic difference between your touches and your words. “I want to bathe with you in the river when no one is watching. Maybe find a secluded area, somewhere further away so we can… fool around until we have nothing to give to the other.”

Izuku’s breath hitches.

“Uhm…” Izuku tries to respond but you grab into his hair again; Izuku’s hips make a dive towards you, the touch featherlight and probably unintended but you can’t help but bite into your lips to muffle the moan that’s trying to erupt from your chest at the motion. Izuku doesn’t miss the tiny whimper though; you could cut the tension between you two right now, the air so hot and heavy you kinda want to breathe through Izuku’s mouth to soothe your stinging throat.

“I want to show you how much you mean to me in every way possible…” Your other hand snakes under Izuku’s shirt, caressing the skin on his back until the soft touch isn’t enough; you scrape the soft skin on his back with your nails and Izuku’s eyes fill with tears, but not from the pain. “I want to kiss every single freckle, every single scar, every bump and every crevice because you deserve it, Izuku. You are the sweetest, most caring person in the world and you make me happy so… whatever you want, you can have it. From a cheeky ice cream at 2AM to me pleasing you until the end of dawn, you can have all of it. You deserve all of it.”

You swear you can hear the snap of Izuku’s self-restraint, the sound loud and echoey as Izuku looses his composure and attacks you hungrily, his tongue barging into your mouth with a strong lick.

“I love you.” Izuku mumbles, his breath hot against your lips as he takes and takes and takes, until your whole world turns upside down again, the wet sound of your lips against each other the only sound in the silent room.

“Show me… how much…” You whimper, back arching from the sofa subconsciously.

“Fuck.” Izuku whimpers back, his arms snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against his growing erection and you can’t help the tiny yelp leaving your mouth as the hero takes you in his arms, bridal style, and RUNS into the bedroom with One for All crackling around his body to get there quicker, the motion making you dizzy for a few seconds.

Izuku puts you down with so much care, moving slowly as he settles on the top of you, hips flush with yours as he mutters to himself quietly, probably trying to calm himself down enough to be able to be to remember your first time for the rest of his life.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles hazily. There is a moment when everything freezes; Izuku looks deep into your eyes as though he’s trying to see what’s behind it, to see your soul, your heart, to see and experience everything that is You through one simple gaze and you can’t help but want more than that look; you find the bottom of his shirt and yank at it in a silent plea and Izuku responds by tossing the fabric to the other side of the room. His arms snake behind your back, pulling you up from the bed a little bit, manhandling you like you are weightless; he slowly rolls your top up, his movements slow and careful in case you want him to stop but needless to say there is nothing in the whole wide world that could make you stop right now; you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, it was almost excruciating in the last few days and now, Izuku is finally yours, just yours.

“You are so pretty, Sweets.” Izuku puts you back on the bed and slides his finger over your skin from your neck to your lower belly, then he stops there, playing with the hem of your shorts, as he moves his upper body up and his hips down to grind between your legs while he stares at your naked chest with lustful eyes.

“Closer.” Is all you mumble between two muffled whimpers as you pull yourself up with your hands on Izuku’s back and kiss the biggest scar on his chest. Izuku’s eyes tear up again, choking on a sob as he slowly slides your shorts down, you doing the same with his joggers, fingers slightly shaking when the soft fabric passes the tent in his underwear, his arousal loud and clear. “Izu…”

SAFE FROM HERE

Izuku’s high tech bracelet suddenly screeches, the annoying, high pitched sound ruining the mood completely.

“No fucking way.” Izuku mutters, so fucking frustrated he’s about to yank the fucking thing out of the window. He straddles your hips as he fumbles with his phone. “Not now, not fucking now!”

He’s a few seconds away from crying. It actually breaks your heart.

“Izuku, love, it’s okay. Everything is okay. We can finish this another time. Or we can… just fool around? If you uhm… want me to help?”

“It’s… this massive case we’ve been working at.” Izuku sighs, given up. “They’ve been lurking in the shadows for several weeks now and this is their first time coming to the surface hence why I was notified. I could technically ignore, but…”

You can’t help, but smile. This is Japan’s number one hero to ya’.

“… you don’t want to. And that’s why I respect the shit out of you, pro hero Deku.” You mutter while your hands caress the sides of his hips soothingly.

“I’m sorry.” Izuku lies on top of you for a second, stealing a few more kisses before he stands up and starts getting ready. “This will probably take a while, so… don’t wait for me.”

“You know I will, anyway.” You smile, but knowing how sensitive Izuku is, you decide to continue. “I have some commissions to do, don’t worry. I’ll keep myself entertained.”

“I love you. Thank you.” Izuku gives you one last kiss before he jumps out of the window and the flat is silent again, cold an empty without his warmth.

You sigh into the cushion then take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Maybe, a cold shower would be a good idea, so that’s what you start with.

Izuku wasn’t lying; he’s been out for several hours now. You turned the TV on in case they decide to show the fight, a bad habit Izuku always begs you to stop with but you just… can’t. It might be painful sometimes, seeing your loved one getting hurt while you sit on your sofa, safe and sound, drawing stupid fanarts for a living, completely helpless in case shit hits the fan but at least you can see him this way, know where is is, what he’s up to, know he’s alive and breathing.

It’s enough to soothe your troubled soul, the fact that there is nothing in the TV, that the situation isn’t dire enough for them to interrupt the broadcast for it, so you start on your commission, the TV nothing but a quiet background noise.

It all happens really quickly, in only a second which somehow still seems to stretch on for an eternity; the broadcast is cut off with a buzz, the tv making a low pitched, humming noise, grey, black and white dots fuzzily zigzagging on the screen right before it connects to another broadcast.

You don’t need to be a psychic to know what you are about to see on the screen; you had a feeling for a while, a terrible, dark feeling, a constant, unwelcome weight on your shoulders you tried to ignore and almost succeeded at it while Izuku held you in his arms, but once he left, deep inside, you felt something lurking in the shadows; you somehow felt like the next time he comes in through the door or the window he won’t be the same but you pushed the thought down so well it never even came to the surface during your emotional goodbye, it just kept lurking, somewhere between your heart and your soul, close to the edge but too far away for it to reach your actual brain and form words inside your head.

Maybe if you would have embraced your thoughts and followed your instincts… Izuku would have never left.

You can’t help but laugh at your own, silly thoughts; Izuku staying home because of her paranoid girlfriend instead of saving hundreds of people from a tragic death? Good joke.

But maybe… he would have been more careful. Less… self-sacrificial. Maybe, if you would have said something you wouldn’t need to watch Izuku running into an obvious trap just to save a child from the massive gang of villains. Maybe, you wouldn’t be forced to watch him fall LIVE, on TV, broadcasted through the whole country.

“The urge to save everyone and everything is what makes us heroes but that urge is also what makes us weak; one day, we might jump into our deaths to save that one person who was left behind. To be honest with you, I don’t mind dying that way.” - Deku had said in an interview a few months back. Now the words haunt you, letters jumping in front of your eyes as the battle on the screen escalates; Izuku jumps right in front of a massive explosion which was initially heading towards the small, terrified girl. Katsuki and Kirishima yells, their hero persona long forgotten as they both run as quick as they can after the the number one hero but none of them are quick enough to catch up with him before the explosion hits Deku right in the chest, his blood splattering on both of his friends as they stand frozen in one place, their faces white as a sheet.

Katsuki falls on his knees as the remaining of the building crumbles right on top of Izuku after he throws the girl towards Luna and the rest of his team, making sure the girl is safe and sound even if it costs him his own fucking life because that’s who is; an undeniable hero, the symbol of hope and peace.

His best friend is rendered broken and useless even without being physically hurt, just yelling and crying on the floor while Kirishima pats his lover’s back a few times and says something you can’t decipher from so far away; after a few seconds he makes a beeline towards the battle field, throwing massive pieces of cement into the air as he searches for his friend; the villains are nowhere in sight now, they evaporated into thin air, literally, with a massive smirk on their faces. Their plan worked. They won.

After years of constant winning, for the first time in the last 10 years, the villains have won.

Katsuki still haven’t moved from the floor. He stares at the small splotches of blood with disgust, then a loud sob emerges from inside of him. Eijirou is still searching, yelling Izuku’s first name as tears streak down his hardened face, arms working as quickly as humanly possible until he finally finds something; he sobs and yells and pats Izuku’s face a few times but he’s unconscious, arms dangling in an unnatural way, chest so bloodied its impossible to see the real damage behind it but by the constant stream of blood on the floor as Kirishima makes his way towards the first aiders is anything to go by, the situation is… dire.

Right now, in this moment, just a few hours after you two almost had your first night together, Izuku is dying in his friend’s arms and you can’t do anything but cry, useless and broken while the whole world prays for Deku with tear stained cheeks and broken hearts, rendered speechless as the Number One Hero disappears inside the first aid tent.

The whole world goes silent after that.

… Next Chapter!

IMPORTANT: GUYS! You know me. I won’t kill him. Don’t worry too much. The next 2 chapters will be angst, I’m not going to lie, and I hated every second of it but it’s already written and I can 100% tell you that :

1. Izuku will wake up in the next chapter.

2. He’ll get better eventually.

3. There is at least one scene that’s less depressing in every chapter. Or at least I tried to write it that way but @porusuniverse would probably say otherwise 😂

Thank you for your patience and if you need reassurance or feel too overwhelmed due to the topic just send me a message and I’ll tell you more about what’s gonna happen. 💜

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I hope you guys are okay! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but trust me, you need a bit of a break before this shit escalates 😂

- I got so mad at this fucking angst that I wrote 15k words while working full time and finishing late every day just to get it out of the way. 😂 please don’t hate me, I’m also hurt by my own cruelty.

- Also, if you are a Shouto fan, don’t hate me! I don’t think he’s uhm… unattractive nor uncaring. I have a Shouto x Reader one shot up on my page, I love him with my whole heart btw and he was my first MHA crush so if you wanna read it, go into my masterlist and check it out!

- I stand by what Kaminari said though. 😂 don’t judge until you’ve tried both HAHA

- I will be honest, I’m glad they were interrupted because the cheeky bit of this chapter was a little bit uhm… too hot. I think Izuku wants his first time to be a bit more mild than whatever was going on before the phone call.

- HAVE A LOVELY WEEKEND, GUYS!!! I hope I haven’t ruined it too much! See you next week!

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley has you with him, he never wants you to go. But the stress from Meredith and Penny still hangs between the two of you. And the only think that seems to make sense to Bradley could be taken from him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

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

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were finally in Bradley's arms. Aside from your hangover and banged up knee, you seemed no worse for the wear. Just a little shaken up from those assholes taunting you last night. As he leaned back against his headboard, you were curled up against his chest wearing his favorite sweatshirt. 

"I love you," he whispered again, rubbing the bare skin of your back and waist beneath the sweatshirt. You hadn't returned the sentiment, but it didn't matter. You just snuggled a little closer to him every time he said it to you. 

When your stomach growled, you looked up at him and laughed softly. "Come on," he said, kissing your forehead as he withdrew his hand from your soft skin. "I'll make you breakfast."

Now you were looking at him with concern as you straddled his thighs. "You'll make me breakfast? Sorry, but I'm not going to eat anything you cook."

Bradley tipped his head back and started laughing. "You got me there, Princess. But I can get you a bowl of cereal."

You just shook your head and slid off of his lap, taking his hand in yours. "I'll make you breakfast," you told him, looking back at him over your shoulder as he followed you down the hallway. He'd follow you anywhere today. Do anything you wanted to do. As long as you kept him with you.

He turned on the coffee maker and pulled two mugs down as you bent in front of the refrigerator. Your bare legs and his oversized sweatshirt made him feel weak. You handed him some eggs and the gallon jug of milk. "Do you have cinnamon?" you asked as he set the milk and eggs on the counter. 

"You don't actually have to make me breakfast," he whispered as you kissed his chin. 

"I'm hungry for French toast," you told him, so he located the cinnamon for you. Then he watched you work, helping with everything you asked him to. And when the kitchen smelled like cinnamon, and there were slices of bread sizzling on the stovetop, Bradley handed you a mug of coffee. 

"Can you help me with something on my phone?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sipped your coffee and flipped a piece of bread. 

You set down the mug that said Aviators Look Down on Others and glared at him over your shoulder. "If you ask me to delete another dating app, I will rage. Do you understand me?"

"It's not that," he promised.

"Well, then what can I help you with, old man?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile at your words as he ran his mustache along the side of your neck. "Help me change this." He tapped on your contact name which was still listed as Babysitter. He deleted that word as he let his chin rest on your shoulder, making sure you were looking at his phone. Then he typed out My Princess before he opened his photo gallery. 

"It doesn't look like you need my help," you whispered as he scrolled through all of his pictures of you and Noah and the occasional one related to something at work. "Oh wait, yes you do," you said, pointing to the dirty pictures you had sent him. "You need to save those in a private folder, Daddy."

He was beyond delighted that you had just called him Daddy. "That's something else you can help me with," he murmured, scrolling further until he found the first selfie you sent to him. The one where you were wearing your purple crown. He set it at your contact photo and kissed your cheek

"Give me that," you told him after you flipped the pieces of French toast again. He handed you his phone and watched you move all the dirty photos he loved so much into a new folder that you labeled Princess. "And you can enter the passcode when you want to look at them," you said as you saved today's date as the four digit code.

"Why did you make it today's date?" he asked as you spun to face him and pressed his phone to his chest. He grabbed it as you let go and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him hard, devouring his mouth as you sighed softly. Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter next to the mugs and let his hands slide up your sides beneath his soft sweatshirt. 

"Because," you told him between kisses, running your fingers up into his hair and looking him in the eye. "Today's the day you told me you love me."

"Baby," he moaned against your lips, reaching behind you to turn off the stove burners. 

You kept your body snug against his, even when you let your hands trail down to the bottom of his undershirt and whispered, "Daddy."

You peeled his shirt off, finally letting him feel your hands everywhere. "Please. Let me take you back to bed." He had never been intimate with you there, but he'd been dreaming about it for a long time. Hell, last night was the first time you and he had a real sleepover. The first time he got to hold you all night.

Immediately you started pushing him toward the hallway, and he hoisted you up into his arms as you squeaked. "I got you," he promised.

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

There had to be something wrong with you, because you couldn't physically stop smiling. Bradley had taken you to his bed, set you down gently right in the middle of it, and started kissing you everywhere. His sweatshirt was pushed up to your breasts, his big hands squeezing your sides while he kissed the spot just below your belly button.

You were panting softly, and you could tell how wet you were by the way your lace underwear clung to you. But he seemed to be in no hurry, so you just let him keep it up. Lips and mustache found your injured knee, and he kissed all around the bandage before gently guiding your leg over his shoulder. 

"I've been dreaming about this," he whispered against your inner thigh. When his fingers teased along the elastic of your underwear, you thought he was going to remove them, but he just kept driving you crazy instead. 

A soft laugh bubbled out of your lips. "You dreamed about rescuing me from frat boys and having your way with me?"

"No," he grunted, easing his large body over yours, while you kept your leg on his shoulder. You could feel his hard cock rub your core through both of your underwear, and you pressed up against him. "I dream about having you in my bed. Having you all to myself. Don't get me wrong, I love sharing you with Noah," he mumbled, pushing the sweatshirt up and palming your tits with his massive hands. "But when you're like this, you're all mine."

As your back arched off the bed, Bradley's lips met your nipple, kissing and caressing you like nobody else ever had. "Daddy," you whispered before your eyes fluttered closed. 

"All mine," he muttered, licking the valley between your breasts before sucking on one nipple and then the other.

You cried out for him, your hands grabbing at his biceps and shoulders before threading through his messy curls. 

"You're so fucking sensitive, Princess."

You definitely were for him. Because he knew how to touch you. He knew how to love you. He was good at all of it. 

"Bradley?" you gasped after he had worked your nipples into tender peaks. He whispered your name, the bristles of his mustache rubbing you just right. You were clenching around nothing. He hadn't even undressed you yet. And now you were in trouble, because he could tell how far gone you were as he whispered your name over and over again.

You rubbed yourself up against his cock as he pressed his lips to your ear and moaned, "I love you, Princess. I love you."

There was little doubt in your mind that you could cum for him just like this. He loved you. And you loved him.

You were soaking wet as he slipped his hand inside your underwear and groaned. "You make me insane," he informed you gruffly, wasting no time before slipping his middle finger inside you. 

"Bradley!" you cried as he stroked your clit with his thumb and fucked you with one, thick digit until you were propping yourself up on your elbows to get to his lips. You kissed him, and he devoured every noise you made. "I'm so close, Daddy." When you let your head tip back, his mouth found your breasts again. You were close to overstimulation as he removed his finger from inside you and rubbed his fingertips across your clit until you were nearly crying. 

It took you a second to realize that your legs were shaking as he sucked on your breasts. You were about to cum as soft grunts mixed with your deep, erratic breathing. "Oh," you gasped, and then he was mashing his lips to yours, pushing you back against the pillow. "I'm coming," you whined into his mouth. 

Then you were shaking everywhere, his fingers slowing down and applying less pressure until you moaned his name so loudly, you should have been embarrassed. Your panties were absolutely soaked, and it felt like you were laying in a puddle as Bradley tapped your clit with his fingertips. 

When you met his eyes and saw the desire there, you knew what had happened. "Did I squirt again?" you asked softly as you caught your breath. Bradley brought his damp hand up to his own mouth and licked his palm before running his index finger along your lips. 

"You did," he whispered, letting you kitten lick his fingers. You tasted good on his warm skin, and you were no longer embarrassed. Because he looked so turned on right now. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his underwear, could feel him pulsing against you. When you sucked two of his fingers into your mouth, he started bucking against you, and you looked up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he rasped, pushing them a little further into your mouth. "You already know you own me."

You moaned around his fingers before he pulled them free and kissed you. Then his sweatshirt was on the floor along with your soaking wet underwear. You watched the graceful way he removed his own underwear as you sat up. 

"Come here," you commanded, and he did as he was told, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you. You told him where to touch you, and he did. You told him everything you wanted, and he did that too. You were already a mess again as his thigh rubbed your core. Already whimpering his name.

"You gonna let me make love to you, Princess?" he asked, spreading your legs a little wider and coaxing you flat on your back. 

"Yes," you whispered when you felt him at your entrance. 

"A little louder," he said, pressing against you with delicious pressure.

"Yes!"

He was steady and meticulous, sure that you liked everything he was doing before he went a little harder. He checked in with you until you could barely answer him, because everything felt too good. Your fingers were digging into his biceps as your lips skimmed along his neck, licking at the salty sheen on his skin. He was chanting your name like a prayer as he moved with such precision, you weren't sure you'd ever be able to orgasm without him again.

Bradley was loving your body with his. He chased your lips for more kisses every time you needed to take a breath. His rough hands were so sure of what you needed as he touched you seemingly everywhere. And interspersed among the sweet sound of your name, he told you he loved you. He used his voice like a tool in tandem with his perfect body until you were squeezing his cock tight.

You felt wrung out and exhausted, barely able to control yourself as your fingers went loose on his arms. You sunk back in the bed, keening for him as your orgasm washed over and through you. And then you watched him, neck straining as his strokes grew shorter and more irregular. You pulled his mouth to yours as he came for you. He tasted so good as he let his hand gently grip the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw. 

"I love you," he breathed against your lips. His voice sounded as broken as you felt as he collapsed mostly on top of you. You held him close with your hands in his hair, and his cock still buried inside you.

"I love you, Daddy."

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

Bradley smiled the whole time you and he argued about doing laundry. You were adamant that he wash your underwear along with the bedding, but he kept telling you he liked the way they looked on his bedroom floor too much to do that. 

Finally you scooped them up and said, "I'm sure if you really want to, we can soak them again," and then took them and his bedding into your arms. "It's not like you don't know how to make me squirt."

Then he watched you parade out of his room, your naked backside swaying beautifully as you went. He just stood there and exhaled as he ran his hands through his hair. He was certain he had the dumbest look on his face. 

You loved him.

"Good thing I like cold French toast," you said with a laugh as he sat down completely naked on one of the kitchen chairs. You were also naked, plating some breakfast which was definitely becoming lunch. 

"I like anything you cook," he mumbled, eyes glued to every inch of your body as you turned and set down a plate in front of him along with maple syrup and two glasses of orange juice. "Mind grabbing my phone?" he asked, watching as you picked it up from where he discarded it earlier. 

"Here you go, old man," you said quite loudly. "Can you hear me? Do you remember your pass codes? Or do you need a refresher?"

"You know, I have a bag of Skittles for you, but I think I'll just eat all of them," he said, pulling you down onto his lap and opening up a playlist on his phone. 

"You would never," you gasped. Bradley was laughing, but you actually seemed scandalized.

"No, I wouldn't," he promised, kissing your shoulder as you settled back against him. He played his favorite song, the one that reminded him of you while you cut up the French toast and drenched it in syrup. 

Bradley watched you lick some syrup from your fingertip as you said, "I made a playlist for Noah. A bunch of kid friendly songs. He loved it." You took a bite of food and turned to smile at him while you chewed. 

"That was sweet of you," he rasped as you fed him a bite. "He's crazy about you." Bradley thought back to Noah crying and saying he wanted you to be his mommy. 

"I love him," you said simply, taking another bite of French toast while Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and caressed your soft skin. 

And it didn't take long until the food was eaten and you were straddling his lap on the chair. You were cradling his hard cock against your pussy while you kissed his neck and dragged your purple fingernails down his chest and along his abs.

"Feels good," he groaned, trying to sit still and enjoy everything you were doing to him. You looked gorgeous everywhere. Every tilt of your head and brush of your lips against his skin had all of his senses screaming for more. When you finally lifted your hips up and let him slip inside you, he was so far gone. You rode him so well with your arms around his neck and your fingers trailing through his hair.

"Oh," you gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed your clit against his abs. 

"You're so good, Baby," he promised, one hand guiding your hip and the other tracing your nipples. You were a dream. Everything he wanted. Perfect for him. Perfect for Noah. 

You leaned closer and kissed his lips, getting louder with each stroke of your clit against him. And soon you were whining his name and pulling his hair. He filled you with his cum that dripped all over the chair and coated your thighs when you stood. 

He just looked at you there, standing between his splayed thighs with your hands on his shoulders. "I never want to stop being with you," he mumbled, and you leaned down to kiss him.

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

You were a little embarrassed to admit to Bradley that when you got out of the shower, you wanted to take an afternoon nap. After you spent a few minutes picking on him for being old and drinking fiber in his tea with lunch, you yawned so long and loud that he led you to the living room. You were in his soft UVA sweatshirt again, and you stretched out on the couch with your head on his lap. 

The last few days had been wild. You vowed that you were never going to speak to Greyson or his friends again. No more college boys in any way, shape or form. Nobody but Bradley. 

He was currently drawing tiny circles along your neck with his fingertips. You yawned again before you whispered, "You know, I probably shouldn't even be here right now."

He just hummed in response, so you asked, "Where are things at with Meredith? Still scheduled for Wednesday?"

But Bradley was silent for a moment before he said, "I don't want you to have to worry about her. I'm doing enough worrying for all three of us. But yes, Wednesday. Unless Tracy calls and tells me otherwise."

"I'm still going to worry, Daddy. But I'm also going to support you. Noah needs to be with you. He needs his dad who took care of him and loves him. He needs to stay with you."

But those little circles on your neck and his rough fingertips had you drifting off to sleep, and you sensed that was what he wanted. He seemed reluctant to let you be consumed by this. So you slept for a few hours on his warm thigh, only stirring when you really needed to go to the bathroom. He hadn't moved at all, but his hand was resting on your bare hip, and he was watching sports highlights on mute on the TV with the captions turned on.

"Baby," he murmured when you popped your head up and turned to look at him. So handsome. You climbed onto his lap and rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your forehead and told you, "Penny's bringing Noah back in about an hour."

Your heart soared. That would give you enough time to cook something for him for dinner, and then you could play with him a bit before his bedtime. Before you had to leave. And then your heart sank, because you didn't want to go home. And you didn't want to see Penny. You were still so upset about what happened when Bradley got blindsided by Helen.

"I'll be back," you whispered, standing and heading for the bathroom. You took a few minutes to yourself. There was too much going on. And you thought that if you could sort everything out without Bradley distracting you with his hands and his lips you could make more sense of things. 

You wanted to be here when Penny dropped Noah off. You didn't want to hide what was going on. You wanted to stay and have dinner with your boys. You deserved that much. 

You wanted to help Bradley with Meredith. If there was some way you could aid in court or help him prepare, you wanted to do that. He deserved that much. And Noah deserved everything. 

You sighed and washed your hands, and when you opened the door, Bradley was standing there. "I just remade the bed, and I'd love to spend some time snuggling with you." 

You went with him and curled up against his huge body. He held you close and asked, "When is your graduation? I need to make sure Noah and I can be there."

The first thing that popped into your mind was the scary thought that maybe Bradley wouldn't be the one making plans for his son much longer, but you squashed it immediately. "I'll add it to your phone calendar since I assume you're too old to figure out how to do that," you replied, kissing the tip of his nose. 

He smirked and squeezed your butt so that you were smiling. "I appreciate that, distressingly young girlfriend."

You gasped. "Is that what I am? I thought you said no titles."

"You're my girlfriend," he said with a nod. "Just deal with it, okay? It's been only you for a while now. Your crown lives on my bedpost. I haven't had any other partners. Noah and I are in love with you. You're my girlfriend. My Princess."

You couldn't stop the smile from taking over your face. "Technically I'm Noah's Princess, too."

He sighed and studied your face. "I'm hoping you'll be more than that someday. Now let me put some real clothing on before Penny gets here." With a kiss to your cheek, Bradley grunted and climbed out of bed. You watched his body as he pulled on a US Navy tee shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. 

"Okay, what are you doing?" you asked, crawling across the bed toward him.

He gave you a funny look. "Getting...dressed?"

"No." You pulled him closer by the drawstring on his pants. "As your girlfriend, I'm telling you that you can't wear gray sweatpants around anyone except me. Or like maybe your doctor or something. Because even with underwear, I can see the outline of your dick. It's delicious looking, but no, Daddy."

He blushed. He actually blushed. And you smirked as he yanked them back off again and tossed them at your face. "You wear them, then." You laughed as he pulled on some jeans, complaining the entire time. Then you got out of bed and stepped into his sweatpants. You were sure you looked ridiculous in his too large sweatpants and sweatshirt, but you had nothing else to wear, so you rolled the pants at the waist. 

And then the doorbell rang. And now you actually weren't sure that Bradley would want Penny to see you here. You were about to ask him if that was the case, but he took you by the hand. 

"Noah is going to be so excited that I didn't completely fuck things up with you." He pulled you down the hallway and toward the front door, and before you knew it, Noah and Penny were right in front of you. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he started trying to wiggle out of Penny's arms. 

"Princess!"

You scooped him up as Penny laughed and handed Bradley a bag. "Here's some artwork that we made today. Plus some dirty laundry. We had so much fun making macaroni art with Amelia."

She smiled at you. She didn't look surprised to see you at all as you hugged Noah and kissed his round cheek. 

"Thanks, Pen," Bradley mumbled, digging through the bag. 

"No need to thank me," she replied, wringing her hands nervously now. "I owe you an apology." She was talking to you. Your eyes went a little wide. "I didn't know the two of you were together. If I had known, I would have never tried to set Bradley up. I really shouldn't have done it anyway," she added softly. 

You turned to look up at Bradley. "You told her about us?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arm around your shoulders and kissing his son on the head. "Of course I did."

"I should have known, honestly," Penny said, looking at Bradley with a smile. "By the way he said he wasn't using the dating app. And how he seemed calmer. More grounded."

Your cheeks felt warm as you pressed your lips together. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Spaghetti!" Noah cheered, but Penny shook her head. "I need to pick Amelia up from her friend's house. But thank you." And then she was kissing Bradley's cheek and closing the door as she left.

You were alone with your boys. This was all you'd been dreaming about recently. Noah's arms were around your neck, and Bradley was guiding you toward the kitchen, and you had tears in your eyes. 

"I love you," Noah whispered, and then you started crying. 

"I love you, too, sweet Noah."

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

Bradley watched you tuck Noah into bed. You looked so good in his clothing and in his house. You looked perfect when you were with his son. He needed this to be his everyday life. 

You joined him in the hallway and whispered, "I'll get an Uber to take me home if you don't mind me borrowing your clothes."

"Stay," he replied softly. "Please, stay."

You bit your lip and started to slowly shake your head. "Tomorrow is Monday. You have work. I should go to campus and start on my job applications and final few assignments."

"You can do that from here. Use my computer. Please, stay."

You hummed softly. He would be more than happy to beg you not to leave, but you took him by the hand and kissed his wrist. "Okay. I'll stay. Leave me your computer and charger."

Then you turned toward his bedroom, pulling his sweatshirt over your head as you went. "Are you coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He could see the silhouette of your peaked nipple in the dimly lit space, and he tripped along after you. 

"I'm coming, Baby," he rasped, and your soft giggle as you climbed into his bed had him reaching for you. The room was dark, and his eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but your voice alone was making him hard.

"Come get me, Daddy."

He grunted and slipped his hand down the front of the sweatpants, and you gasped. He took his time. He made sure you were reacting just the way he wanted you to. And when he had you close, he asked, "Does anyone else make you feel as good as Daddy does?"

Your moan was so loud in the silent house that he had to cover your mouth with his. "No," you panted. "No." 

Then he flipped you over onto your knees and yanked the sweatpants down. "Good girl," he whispered, burying his face in your pussy from behind. 

"Daddy," you whined, and Bradley had to push your face down to the pillow to keep you quiet. With your ass in the air, he finished you off as you gushed a bit for him. 

"Fucking hell," he growled as he lapped at your pussy and unzipped his jeans, pulling himself free. With one clean movement, he was buried deep, bottoming out inside you. "Soaking wet." His face was tipped back, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep his composure. 

"Daddy!" you whined, bumping back against him harder, and that was it.

"Not too loud, Baby," he warned, wrapping one hand over your mouth and planting one hand on the bed. He pressed himself against your back and whispered in your ear, "You want Daddy to be sweet or rough?"

"Rough," you whimpered against his fingers before he shoved them in your mouth and slammed into you until he was seeing stars. You were a whimpering mess as Bradley filled you over and over again, and then he came so hard, he was afraid he was going to hurt you. But you seemed fine as he collapsed on top of your back. 

"You okay?" he asked, panting like he'd just run five miles. 

"Yes," you gasped softly. "So good."

"Will you let me fuck you like a sweet princess tomorrow?" 

You moaned softly. "Whenever you want."

He kissed along your neck and grunted. "Daddy needs a good night's sleep, Baby. Tomorrow."

And not ten minutes later, Bradley was sound asleep as you ran your fingers along his chest and told him you loved him. He never wanted you to leave.

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

Bradley is always in a much better headspace when he's with his little family. Don't worry, Meredith is on deck! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 23

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[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 2/8

Part 1

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

Nemo wanted to walk on his own. He stumbled out of your grandmother house with no sense of direction at all. The still gathered crowd regarded him curiously as he made his way down the driveway. You walked not too far behind, ignoring the mumbles around you. The neighbors had stayed for this moment alone. The moment you would come face to face with—"

"Y/N."

A white Chevrolet with its widows tinted, stood parked along the sidewalk. Beside it stood a man dressed in a grey t-shirt and board shorts.

"Gabriel?" His name escaped your mouth unintentionally. Almost like a fever dream. He looked nothing like you remembered him, having left him as a boy with a cheeky smile and chubby cheeks. Before you stood a man, dark wavy hair and a sleeve covered in tattoos. His face was carved along his sharpened jaw, and a goatie grew on his chin below his mustache covered lips. He was fairly built, the bumps of his muscles visible through his straining t-shirt. And he was tall, almost two heads taller than yourself.

"Papa."

Gabriel's gaze left yours, shifting towards the ground. There, with his hands stretched above his head, was Nemo, who recognized Gabriel as the man from the pictures kept above his nightstand.

The crowd behind you sighed. Some of them even shed tears, watching Gabriel pick up Nemo in his arms, batting away his own tears.

"Go to him."

Your grandmother shoved you from behind. You stood frozen in the middle of the driveway. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't move.

"Gabriel, Gabriel. Can I have your autograph?"

Soon, the heartfelt crowd turned into a violent mob. Pushing each other in order to get closer to Gabriel, who was still holding Nemo in his arms.

"Please, please. I'm such a big fan. Can I just have one autograph?"

The neighborhood kids were the most brutal, fighting their way to get a chance to meet arguably one of the greatest surfers to have emerged from Brazil.

"Please." Gabriel said, trying to calm them down. "I'm only here for my family."

Things happened so fast. The escalation of the crowd forced Gabriel off the sidewalk and towards the house. He grabbed you along the way. Holding onto your hand until the silence of your grandmother's house fell upon you.

"Jesus." He said, running a hand through his hair. "That was crazy."

Nemo suddenly erupted in tears, crying for you to hold him. You did so, unhanding him from Gabriel.

"Poor baby." Your grandmother was not impressed. "How people can get. You'd think someone told them that the king was coming."

"Michael Jackson?"

"No, Elvis."

"Oh. Well, I'm really sorry about that." Gabriel said, watching you rock Nemo in your arms. "I really didn't think it would get this crazy."

"Maybe next time warn us before coming." Your grandmother gesticulated vividly with her hands. "This is São Sebastião not Rio de Janeiro. We aren't used to super surfistas like you casually paying us a visit. It would cause a riot."

"Mas vovó, eu também sou daqui." (But grandma, I'm from here too.)

"Please. Your family couldn't wait to abandon us as soon as they got a hold of a little money. Save your sweet talk for somebody else."

"Vovó" You frowned. She was being awfully rude.

"Just give the baby to me." She sneered. "I'm sure the two of you have a lot of things to catch up on."

You gave Nemo to your grandmother and suddenly found yourself alone in a room with the man you once loved.

"Y/N." Your name escaped his lips with such ease, like butter, and when he stepped forward to hug you all you could do was to oblige to the large arms that wrap around your body, hugging you tightly.

"Gabriel... I can't breathe." You tapped him on the shoulder.

He pulled back. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"It's really not. This was meant to happen sooner."

"What?"

"Meeting you and the baby. But my family—"

"It's okay." You assured. The last thing you wanted to do was discuss Gabriel and the complicated relationship he had to his family. You had faced enough of that in your life.

"Let's just savor the moment." You said. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Gabriel smiled softly but fell victim to staring into your eyes for too long. Long enough to make the moment akward again.

"Sorry." He caught himself and chuckled. "It's just that you look so different."

"Me?" You frowned. "You're the one who put on a cows weight in muscle mass."

Gabriel's laughter sprung something within you, something you thought had died a long time ago.

"What's wrong?"

He saw the slight conflict that appeared in your eyes, seizing his laughter.

"Nothing I....I'm fine. A bit tired I guess."

"Don't worry. I'll drive us back to Maresias before sundown."

"Pardon?"

"What?" Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets. His expression goes back to being annoyingly relaxed.

"What did you say about Maresias?"

"Oh, I said I'll get us there before sundown. Traffic here is way faster than in the city."

"We're not going to Maresias." The furrow of your brows deepened.

"Erm... but I thought that's what we agreed on. For you and Nemo to stay with me for the summer?"

"No, we agreed to stay closer to you in the summer. That's why we're here in São Sebastião, so that you can come and visit us without the hassle of coming all the way to the city."

Gabriel appeared bit disoriented. "So you're not coming to stay with me in Maresias?"

"No, absolutely not. What would even make you think—." You stopped yourself. The expression on Gabriel's face saying it all. The letters. One of which burned in your pocket.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel." You said softly. "I know that you want for the three of us to become a family again. However, that's just not happening."

He shook his head. "No, no. I get it. I shouldn't have assumed that you would want to stay with me after all this years. I just wanted to feel closer to my son, that's all."

A string of guilt struck your heart. But then you had to remember the numerous times you prayed for a moment, such as this one. A moment that never came. And it wasn't coming now.

"I'm sorry Gabriel. But this is the way it has to be."

"No, no. It's...fine." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's totally fine."

It wasn't fine. It took you everything not to cry.

"I guess I should head back home then, give the two of you a chance to settle in."

"Thank you Gab—"

"Oh, no, you're not." Your grandmother burst back into the room with Nemo pinned to her hip, a pacifier in his mouth.

"Vovó." You gritted your teeth. "Gabriel can leave if he wants to."

"Not with all those people still out there. If he does, they'll clamp down my yard, and I just planted new flowers."

It was settled, Gabriel was staying for dinner. Your grandmother cooked many of the dishes from your childhood, bringing back good memories. Most of your childhood memories were good. The bad ones were of your parents, who, along with your older brother, passed away in a car accident when you were just a young girl. That's actually how you got closer to Gabriel and his family. He was your brothers best friend, the two of them always up to no good. They'd spend most of their time surfing by the break of rocks, dreaming about going pro someday. At least one of them made it.

"Do you need help?"

You stood in the kitchen, interrupted by Gabriel, who stumbled upon you doing the dishes. Having him for dinner wasn't as bad as you had thought. You just had to ignore the fire that lit up inside of you every time he caught your eye from across the table. Or when his foot accidentally nudged yours underneath it.

"No, but thank you for asking."

"Alright then. Most of the people have left your grandmother's yard now, so I think I'm gonna make my way home."

You turned off the water, your back still turned to Gabriel who stood watching you from the doorway. "I guess I'll see you later then?" You said, swollowing the lump forming in the base of your throat.

"Yes. I'll probably come by the day after tomorrow. I have some work to do with my team until then."

"Your team?" You turned your head, watching him from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah. It's really just me and Rico. Rico, who you might remember? He was friends with Paulo and I back in high school."

"Oh." A weight pressed down on your chest at the mentioning of your brother.

"Yeah, he's actually my fitness coach now. He's gonna help me set up a program to prepare me for the next surfing tour."

"Of course." You nodded, dunking your hands into the dirty dish water just to hide the trembling of them.

"Well....I guess I better tell Nemo goodnight before I leave."

"Yes. Do that."

You stood in silence for a moment, hesitating to turn the water back on. A shadow then appeared behind you, isolating your frame. Gabriel's tattooed arms wrapped around your body, sliding down into the sink, into the dirty dish water.

"Do they still do that." He whispered, his voice deep in your ear.

"Y...yes." You nodded, the heat from his body not making the trembling any better.

"Are you still on medication?"

"No. I stopped taking them when I was pregnant. I guess I never found a reason to take them again."

"This should be a reason." Gabriel raised your hands up and out from the water, revealing your hands. To your surprise they had stopped trembling. But only because Gabriel was squeezing them tightly, stabilizing the panic within you.

His voice was calm in your ear. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's normal to take medication for these sorts of things."

"It really isn't." You chuckled. "Not when your family has been dead for years."

Soft lips were pressed into your hair, followed by a whisper, "You're family is not dead. We're right here with you."

You made the mistake of turning around and facing him, his arms caging you between him and the kitchen sink. His lips looked so kissable, Gabriel's eyes convincing you to do just that. Kiss him. However, he only leaned in to knock his forhead against yours. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He kissed your temple and you let him. "Good. I'll see you."

You watched him leave the kitchen and disappear down the hall. A quiet beat, followed by Nemo's laughter suddenly echoing throughout the house, below it and above it, as if he was being tossed in the air. The laughter eventually seized, followed by Gabriel, who passed the kitchen on his way towards the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."

It took everything for you to say it back. "Goodnight Gabriel."

He left the house as you approached the kitchen window, watching him make his way down the driveway back to his car. Some resilient kid from the neighborhood popped out of nowhere with a pen and paper. And like you knew he would, Gabriel took his time to sign his autograph on that piece of paper, leaving the young boy beaming from ear to ear.

"He's a good man, that I'll admit."

"Jesus, vovó. You scared me."

She had appeared by your side like a cat in the night. Like you, her gaze was fixiated out of the window, regarding Gabriel as he finally hopped into his car.

"Just don't let him break your heart again." She said, a stern look on her face. "Never again."

Part 1