#one stached smile and you're done for

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You want to trim your boyfriend's mustache.

Genre: well needed fluff

Warnings: implied sexual relationship in the end, mentions of bleeding

~ this came to me in a dream. idk. enjoy 🫶 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Please," you whine, practically hanging from his arm as he unlocks the front door of your shared apartment. In an instant, you've thrown your heels on the floor, still clinging to poor Tangerine like he's your lifeline.

"You can brush my hair! Braid it even! I pinky promise," you try and bargain, which only causes a low chuckle to rumble from your boyfriend's chest. 

"How is that a fair trade?" he raises an eyebrow. Tangerine undoes his tie and hangs up his coat near the door. He takes your coat too as you drop his arm and does the same.

"Because I pamper you and then you pamper me," you explain sternly, now almost visibly buzzing with excitement and the residue of the liquor you'd drank as you look at him expectantly. You aren't drunk, just relaxed. "C'mon, please." 

Tangerine curses his brother for even planting this stupid idea into your mind at the bar.

He rolls his eyes and rolls up his sleeves at the same time. "I don't trust ya around sharp objects, darlin'," he says, crossing his arms.

You swat your hand in the air and shush him. "Pshh, I cook for us all the time and I don't hear you complaining about me touching a knife." 

Tangerine is silent. He can't argue with that, he does adore your cooking. "Fine," he mumbles and walks into the apartment, disappearing into the bathroom to set some stuff up. "But if you mess this up, I'm cutting your hair as punishment," he calls out casually.

You scrunch up your nose in disapproval, walking behind him and lingering in the doorway of the bathroom. "Isn't that a bit dramatic? I'm talking about giving your 'stache a trim and you threaten my beautiful hair?"

"I like my mustache as much as ya like your hair," Tangerine hums, running some water into a rather large bowl. "Seems anything but dramatic, darlin'." 

You know he's joking but his threat still lingers as he finally sits on the toilet lid, smirking and patting his knee. "C'mere you," he mutters, his voice softer, and when you walk close enough, he grabs your hips and pulls you down to straddle one of his thighs.

You're giddy again when he shows you the razor, shaving cream, as well as the bowl of warm water he's set up on the counter for you. It's a fancy shaving set, with some fancy brush you aren't even sure how to use. You hold them up in front of him. 

"Bought these from the King?" you tease.   

 Tangerine rolls his eyes again, "One more smartass comment and we're going to bed," he warns lightheartedly. You shut your mouth, nodding, and he smirks. He closes his eyes when he feels your delicate fingers spread the shaving cream around his mustache. 

God, he's so smitten by you he's letting you mess with his appearance. He feels a little silly.  

You raise the razor, sticking out your tongue as you concentrate. You don't want to hurt him and you want to get this right—you want to make him happy. You go slow, hands trembling slightly as you rock in his lap. Tangerine groans internally as he feels you on his thigh, his hands grasping your hips to steady you so neither of you move.

He flinches when you almost cut his lip and you gasp, pulling away the razor. "I'm sorry!" 

Tangerine chuckles, opening one eye, "Am I bleeding?" 

You shake your head and lean back forwards, "No, but wait, I'm so close to done," you bite your lip and finish a little. Your smile grows and you sit up, grinning, "There!" Tangerine turns to look in the mirror but you shake your head and dip a cloth into the warm water to wipe away the shaving cream. With a skip in your step, you grab your makeup-mirror and hold it up to him. 

Silence follows and your stomach flips. "Well?" You sound nervous and your boyfriend grins. 

"It's alright, luv," he jokes as he places the mirror on the counter. You pout and he chuckles. He reaches out and takes your hip, pulling you onto his lap again. "It looks real good, darlin'" Tangerine admits, his voice low in your ear. You giggle and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

"You look very handsome," you say honestly and Tangerine beams. 

He wasn't used to these kinds of emotions before he met you. He loved Lemon and that was it, and obviously this was a very different kind of love. You made his chest burst with warmth. You made him feel all kinds of soft inside and he'd fought that feeling for so long, and still you stayed. You stayed and he finally opened up to loving you, and he hadn't stopped since. Tangerine's eyes soften as he sees how happy he's made you. 

He pokes your nose. "Thanks to ya, I suppose." 

You laugh and lean in to kiss him, your hand scratching at the hairs on his nape. He kisses you back, wrapping both arms around your back and under your shirt. You gasp at the coldness of his hands but then melt into the kiss again. Tangerine nudges you with his nose and his mustache tickles your upper lip. You just smile, deepening the kiss. 

Without hesitation, his arms settle under your ass and he picks you up as he stands. You wrap your legs around his waist and laugh again. "Where are you taking me?"

Tangerine hums. "The bedroom. It's my turn to braid your hair, innit?"

You kiss his cheek and down his neck. "I suppose," you tease and pull away with a wink, "or we could do something else?"

Tangerine just grins, dropping you on the bed with a bounce as your laughter fills the room.

[sometimesanalice]

“well,  i do feel a little better now that you’re here”

Bradley and SG please 👉🏼👈🏼 love your work Alexa ☺️☺️

Charlie, you gem! Thank you for always being so lovely and supportive! I hope you enjoy this one! 🥰

There You Are

Summary: It's the first time you're seeing Bradley in over 2 years. A lot of things have changed for you since the night he'd called you before that mission, but if there was one thing you knew you could count on, it was that he'd always be there for you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 1.5K

It had been nine days of radio silence.

Nine days since Bradley had called you in the night before he left for whatever classified mission the Navy had ordered him back to Top Gun for.

Nine days of wondering and hoping for the best. Trying to convince yourself that no news was good news.

Nine days of not tasting any of the meals you'd forced down as you waited. Not that you had much of an appetite anyways.

Nine days of tossing and turning in the bed you slept alone in, as you worked on untangling your life from your now ex boyfriend. The two of you agreeing to share the apartment like roommates until you found out about the promotion you were up for.

The one that might take you to San Diego. To the sunshine and ocean. To new opportunities. To your best friend.

You had pretty much dropped everything the moment you saw Bradley's name flash across the screen of your phone. The relief that washed over you at the sound of his voice- at his Hey, kid- nearly sent you to the floor.

While it had been another few days before you were able to get on a plane- he'd told you there were still some debriefs and paperwork that still needed to be done before him and his team could take leave- but you'd started packing your suitcase the moment the call ended.

You were antsy the entire six hour flight from Boston. You'd apologized more than once for nudging your neighbor's arm as you shifted and squirmed in your uncomfortable seat.

Hearing that final ding of the seatbelt off sign was music to your ears.

You'd called him the moment you stepped off the plane and Bradley picked up on the first ring.

"This feels familiar, doesn't it?" he rasps over the phone. You know he's thinking about the Spring Break you'd went to visit him at UVA. He'd picked you up at the airport then, just like he was doing now. "When is it my turn to be picked up at the airport, kid?"

Of course they'd dropped you off at the furthest gate in Terminal 1. You let out a huff and then set about threading your way through the throng of people standing between you and your best friend.

"Please, when's the last time you flew commercial?" you tease. "And it's not all of us can just waltz onto a Naval Base anytime we want."

"Hey, no one's stopping you from joining up. I'll even write you a letter of recommendation."

You weave around a stroller.

"Hmm, pass. But thank you for the generous offer."

And then past a couple holding hands.

He chuckles. "Guess that means I get to keep my title as designated chauffeur, huh?"

"Lucky you," you sing.

If you weren't on a mission, you'd consider stopping at the coffee shop that you're briskly gliding past for a quick cappuccino. But you had other priorities.

"Such a smart ass." You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You speed up your steps, the glimmer of the exit now in sight. "Why don't you say that to my face, Bradshaw."

"I'm trying to, but you're taking forever," he grouses, famously the more impatient one of the two of you. "I'm to the left of Arrivals gate, by the way."

You smile to yourself. Knowing him, he has probably been there for at least an hour keeping tabs on you with some flight tracker app he'd downloaded on his phone.

"It's a good thing you told me, I'm not sure if I'd recognize you with that bold fashion statement you're sporting on your face now."

Bradley scoffs indignantly. "You haven't even been here thirty minutes and you're already dunking on the 'stache, kid? It looks better in person, give it a chance."

You pull over just to the right of the Terminal exit, tucked next to a potted ficus, taking a moment to scan through the crowd of people waiting for their own travelers. He's not hard for you to find, standing head and shoulders above everyone else in the area.

Whole and healthy and here in front of you.

It's been a little over two years since you've last seen Bradley in person, he'd been stationed in Japan before his return to Top Gun. It was still hard to believe that the lanky boy you'd grown up with had become the well-built man standing across the way from you.

During his time in the Navy, he'd truly come into himself. The easy confidence in his posture was well earned and looked good on him. But you had to stop yourself from laughing and giving yourself away when you see him impatiently tapping his toes. Because no matter how much some things change, there are some things that will always be the same.

"I don't know about that," you muse, still taking him in because there was a moment there when you weren't sure you'd ever get to see him again. "I can see it from here and I'm still on the fence about it."

You see him look around, confused for a moment, head swiveling trying to spot you. You don't keep him waiting long, stepping out from your hiding spot and into view.

You mouth hi and give him a little wave.

"Hey, there you are." There's no missing the wide grin on his face. "You going to stand all the way over there or are you going to come see the mustache up close and personal?"

You laugh and shake your head making your way to him. "I guess I might as well considering I did fly all the way across the country to see it."

"And me, I hope."

"And you," you confirm.

You end the call, tucking your phone into your bag as you close the gap between him and you.

Those whiskey brown eyes are one you've known your whole life. His curls looked like they've seen some sun, as did the rest of him. And the soft smile he had directed at you looked like contentment.

What stops you in your tracks are the fresh cuts that mark his face, new scars to be mixed in with the ones you already knew so well. They're shade of bright pink that's impossible to miss.

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He doesn't say a word as you gently take his face in your hands, tilting his head this way and that, inspecting him for yourself. He just gazes at you, reading every emotion as they run across your face, as you try to hunt for any clues to an answer about what happened that you know you'll never get.

"I'm fine, I promise," he murmurs.

"It doesn't look fine," you press.

He grasps you wrists with his warm hands and coaxes yours down between the two of you.

Too close. Whatever it was was too damn close. The evidence is right there on his neck and behind his ear, and you hate it.

Bradley squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'll have you know passed the concussion protocol with flying colors." He tries to play it off as a joke, but the dark circles under his eyes and the weariness you see around the corners of his eyes tells a different story.

"Does it still hurt?" you ask, trying not to let your voice wobble.

"Well, I do feel a little better now that you’re here.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. "You're so-"

Ridiculous. Frustrating. Important to me.

You don't get to finish you sentence because Bradley is tugging you into his broad chest. The arms that wrap around you are fuller now, but his hug is as just a familiar as it's always been.

Yours thread themselves around his waist instinctively, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

He holds you close, holds you tight. Bradley's always been the type to really hold on tight because he knows what it's like to have to let things go.

People come and go. There's the sound of departure and arrival announcements on the speakers overhead. Some people are saying their goodbyes, and some- like the two of you- are saying hello.

All of it happens around you and Bradley. As you hold him and he holds you. Both of you all too aware that this moment hadn't been a given.

"Thank you for not standing me up," you whisper, throat thick.

"I wouldn’t dream of it, kid," he says, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, and gives it a little wiggle.

You blow out a breath, not wanting a raincloud of what-ifs to damper your golden afternoon.

"Hi," you say again.

"I'm happy to see you," he replies, earnestly. You just nod your head because the feeling is so, so mutual. "You just gained three hours, you up for a little adventuring?"

"I’m all yours, Bradshaw."

It didn't matter to you what you did for the four days you were in town, just that you got to spend it with him.

"Good." He drapes a heavy arm over shoulder and reaches for your suitcase. "Because I'm pretty sure I owe you a milkshake."

You let him steer you towards the exit, to where you assume the short term parking garage is located, and ask, "Can I drive the Bronco?"

Bradley pauses. "We'll see."

You grin because it's not a no.

The California sun hits you in full force as you step out the automatic doors. You reach up and tug out the sunglasses that had been haphazardly tucked into the pocket of his silly Hawaiian shirt- that you were definitely going to tease him about later- and slip them on your face.

Bradley smiles over at you.

"I think California is going to suit you, kid."

And for the first time, here with him, you think it might too.

[cherrycola27]

Elementary

Summary: You are the younger sister of Natasha Trace. You've just moved to San Diego to teach 4th Grade. You never expected to fall for an older man in a Hawaiian shirt who happens to be her best friend.

Warnings: Language, Drinking. Smut, Age Gap, Daddy Kink. Minors DNI 18+

Next Part

...........................................

You'd noticed him the moment you and your friends had walked into the club. He was with a group of guys leaning up near the bar. He looked entirely out of place with his Hawiian shirt and aviators. He had a thick mustache that accentuated his almost familiar face.

He was still there when you walked up later to get a drink.

"Can I get a Titos and cran with Sprite?" You asked the bar tender. "Titos?" He commented. "Classy." He smirked before taking another sip of his beer.

You laughed before turning to him. "I'm trying not to hate myself in the morning. I spent enough time in college drinking bottom shelf shit out of a trash can in a frat house. I've done my share of hangovers. Thank you very much." You tell him.

He turns his body to face you fully. You catch the quick slip of his eyes as he scans your body.

"College? When was that? Last year?" You can't tell if he's joking or not.

"I graduated six years ago. I'm twenty-eight, not a child." You tell him. "What about you. When did you graduate Old Man? 1950?" You laugh.

"Old Man? Really? What makes you say that?" He asks you. "The 'stache and the Hawaiian shirt." You say nonchalantly.

He laughs. "Well, it's been about thirteen years since I graduated college. Didn't realize thirty-five was old." He shakes his head before finishing his drink at the same time the bartender comes back with yours. You go to hand him your card, but your new friend stops you.

"This one's on the Old Man." He winks at you.

"Thank you. You smile at him. "I'm Bradley, by the way, but everyone calls me Rooster." He puts his hand out for you to shake. You tell him your name, and then it clicks. He's one of your sisters coworkers.

She would kill you if she knew you were flirting with him, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"What do you do for work, Rooster?" You asked him. You knew the answer. "I'm a Naval aviator, I fly jets and stuff." He says it so casually. "Oh, that's cool. I've got a few family members in the Navy." You tell him. That's not a lie. Your sister and your soon to be brother in law were both in the Navy. You didn't want to tell him who they were, though.

"Cool. What about you? What do you do for work?" He asks you.

"I teach. Actually, I just got hired to teach fourth grade at the elementary school near the Navy base here in San Diego." You tell him.

"No shit? I know if my teachers had been as pretty as you are, I might have paid better attention. But on a side note, I've got a couple of friends I work with whose kids are going to be in fourth grade there." He tells you.

Little does he know that those kids are your niece and nephew.

"Well, maybe I'll get to see you around then." You finish off your drink and set it on the bar, just as one of your favorite songs comes on. 'Unholy,' you thought—how fitting.

You grab him by the hand. Come dance with me, Bradley.

He happily follows you to the dance floor and pulls you flush against him as your body moves against him.

His hands have a tight grip on your hips. You turn to face him and start singing along with the music. You don't miss how his fingers did into your flesh a little harder each time the word 'Daddy' leaves your mouth.

As the song finishes, you decide to push your luck. You lean up on your tip toes and whisper in his ear. "How about be get out of here, Daddy?"

You smirk as he grabs your hand to lead you to the exit.

"Did you drive?" He asks the moment you're out of the club.

"Ubered." You tell him. "I drove, fuck, follow me." He says.

Moments later, the two of you are standing by a classic blue Bronco. You don't even have time to admire it before he pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly.

It takes all of the willpower he has not to fuck you in the parking lot.

It takes him ten minutes to get back to his bungalow. He's undressing you the minute you get through the door.

Your clothes are strung haphazardly throughout his home. It's a miracle the two of you make it to the bed. But you do. Soon, he's got you laid out before him, and his face is buried between your legs.

He eats your pussy like it's his day job, all the while his hips rut into the mattress. He makes you cum twice on his tongue and fingers.

"Condom?" He asks as he prepares to fuck you.

"Clean. On the pill." You tell him.

"I'm clean too, fuck, you want me to hit it raw?" He growls.

"Yes, please, Daddy." You tell him with hooded eyes.

As he slides into you, you know exactly why they call him Rooster. He's huge in length and girth. He's splitting you open in the most delicious way.

He fucks into you hard, fast, and deep. He takes one of his large hands and presses it on your stomach. You can feel him in there.

"Fuck, you feel how deep I am?" He ask you. You nod your head. "You like feeling Daddy so deep in this tight, perfect little pussy?" He groans.

You whine out a response as he toys with your clit.

"You gonna cum again for me baby?" He asks you. "Yes, Daddy, close!" You moan out.

"Fuck, I can tell. Can feel you clenching so hard on me. That's it darlin, be a good girl and take Daddy's cock." He tells you. Soon, you're falling over the edge, screaming for him.

"Good girl, such a good girl." He praises you.

"Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to—" He asks but you cut him off before he can finish

"Cum in me! Fill me up, Daddy!" You moan out. You don't have to tell him twice. Rooster cums and fills you up with his spend.

He collapses on the bed next to you. After a few minutes, he gets a cloth to help you clean up. You try to get up to find your clothes, but he pulls you closer to him.

"Stay, I'll make pancakes in the morning." He tells you.

You know you shouldn't, but you stay anyway.

The next morning, he does make you pancakes. The two of you get to know each other all morning, and he asks to take you out on a proper date that night.

"I can't tonight. I have to babysit my niece and nephew, but I'm free tomorrow." You tell him.

He agrees. A few hours and several orgasms later, he's dropping you off at your apartment. You have just enough time to make it look like you haven't spent the day getting fuckeswithin an inch of your life before your sister shows up with her fiancée and kids.

The doorbell rings, and Catia and Cristiano run in to greet you. "Aunty Thena!" The cry as they both hug you. You laugh at the nickname. Your sister and her fiancée and almost all of their friends were aviators with callsigns. You didn't have one but were given the honorary callsign "Thena" after the goddess Athena by your future brother in law. He claimed it was because you were both wise and scary. Even though you were barely nineteen when her sneaky link turned into her baby daddy, you were still a force to be reckoned with and wise beyond your years.

But Coyote stepped up when Nat found out she was pregnant. Their casual hook ups turned into something serious. Your parents had wanted them to get married before the twins were born, but they didn't want to get married just because Natasha was pregnant.

You supported her through her pregnancy and their relationship. You had even helped him pick out the ring.

The both of you still laugh when he tells she story about why he and the kids call you Thena.

"Cat, Cris, please don't kill your aunt before she has a chance to watch you!" Coyote scolds them as he walks into your home.

"Javy, they are just excited to see her. It's been months since she last visited. Natasha tells him as she comes in.

"Hey, little sis!" She smiles as she comes to hug you. "I'm so glad you moved out here!"

"You just like that you have a free baby sitter now." You joke with her.

Coyote laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Now listen up terror twins." He addresses his children. You laugh at the nickname for them. It's funny because it's true. You and the twins have gotten into a few messes together. Catia, the oldest, was definitely the mastermind, while Cristiano was, more often than not, the unwilling accomplice.

"Your mom and I will be back in a few hours to pick you up. We have to finish a few wedding things. Be good for your Aunt Thena and listen to her. It will be good practice for when you start back to school and she is your teacher." Javy tells the kids.

Both of them promised to be on their best behavior. You wave goodbye to Nat and Javy. As soon as they are gone, you and the kids are ordering pizza and finding a movie to watch.

You're careful to make sure they don't see your phone and who you are texting.

.............................

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. After your first date with Rooster, you swore you were going to tell him who you were, but you liked the idea of keeping your relationship to yourself. You didn't want to hear what Nat had to say, but honestly, it wasn't any of her business. You were an adult.

The sex with Rooster was amazing, but he was a great boyfriend, too. These had been the best six weeks of your life.

You were currently lying in bed with him after a bit of afternoon delight.

"You really are the best partner that I've had Bradley. Most guys my age last like five minutes and don't even care if I cum. But not you. To be an old man, you sure can keep up." You tease him as you prop yourself up on his chest.

"I'm a Top Gun graduate, babe. The top 1% of Naval aviators in the entire fucking nation. Longevity and stamina are hard wired into me. Don't you know the reason why everyone wants a classic car now?" He asks you. You shake your head.

"Because they can keep their motor running for much longer." He smirks before rolling you onto your back for another round.

You were still in a post sex haze when you're phone went off.

"Shit!" You shouted and jumped up. "What?" Rooster asked you.

"I'm late! I'm supposed to meet my sister for some wedding stuff. I've got to go! I'll text you later!" You shout over your shoulder as you head out the door.

...........................

You and Natasha spent the evening working on some last-minute wedding plans. Once you were done, she suggested that you, her, and Coyote go out for drinks. His parents were keeping the twins for the weekend, so they wanted to take the chance to hang out without worrying about Cat and Cris.

You thought everything would be fine. You were wrong.

Everything was fine until you pulled into the Hard Deck and noticed a familiar blue Bronco. Shit. This wasn't good.

You tried your best to stay cool. You were attempting to fire off a text to Rooster, but Nat was pulling you towards the door.

She looped her arm in yours as she walked over to the group of pilots. You spotted Rooster and his Hawiian print shirt with them. His back was to you.

"Guys! This is my sister that I told you about!" Natasha announced proudly as she introduced you to the group. Everyone smiled and greeted you.

"Bradshaw! Say hi to my little sister!" Nat said, punching him in the shoulder. You didn't miss the color draining from his face when his eyes met yours.

You smirked at him as you introduced yourself.

..............................

The evening was awkward, to say the least. You didn't miss the glances Rooster kept sending you. You did your best to avoid him, but ultimately, both of you were sent on a drink run.

You walked up to the bar to order them, with him hot on your heels.

As soon as you'd ordered them, he grabbed your arm and spun you around.

"You're Nat's sister! How could you not tell me you were her sister?" Rooster whisper shouted at you, as the two of you waited for the drinks.

"It never came up and you never asked." You replied nonchalantly.

"She's going to kill me." He groaned.

"Don't worry, Daddy, I'll make sure she doesn't." You smirked at him.

"You can't call me that!" Rooster shushed you as he looked around to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

"Why not? You weren't complaining about it earlier today when I was face down and ass up and you were pulling my hair while fucking me into you mattress." You teased him. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you said 'oh baby, your tight pussy feels so good wrapped around Daddy's cock. Come on darlin cum for Daddy. Make a mess all over him.'"

Rooster turned as red as a beet. "Why didn't you tell me? We've been dating for six weeks!" Rooster stated.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore. I liked keeping you to myself. Once people know, they give their opinions, and they put their nose where it doesn't belong. Also, do you think Nat is going to be cool with this?" You tell him.

"She's going to kill me. She's going to cut my fuel lines, or she's going to use real guns during training. I'm so dead." Rooster shook his head.

Just then, Penny appeared with the tray of drinks for everyone. Rooster picked it up and turned towards you and sighed.

"Don't worry, baby, I promise we will figure this out. Just smile and nod until it's time to go home." You tell him. "Okay." He sighs.

"Now, let's go get these drinks to them before someone comes looking for us. Don't freak out, I promise I'll take extra good care of you tonight, Daddy, when I come over." You smirk at him.

Rooster shakes his head and follows you back to the group.

You were both too caught up in your conversation to notice a certain Weapons Systems Officer who had come to get more peanuts, and who had unfortunately overheard the end of your conversation.

"Well, well, well." Bob sighed. "This isn't going to be good."

Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia @afterglowsb-tch13 @emorychase @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock

[egg-emperor]

What if one day Eggman decided to come home like a 1950s husband and present you with Sonic's severed head while beaming with joy, like a 1950s husband presenting his housewife with roses? 🌹

Oh my god yes I love that! Eggman outside the door of his base, fixing up his stache and clothes with one hand while the other stays behind his back the whole time. He's trembling a little during this appearing rather nervous which is of course very unlike him, so it must be something special

The door opens and as usual I'm right there waiting for him, dressed up for him pretty, head bowed to him. But when I look up, something is different. He has a little smile on his face and a blush, he's kicking the ground with his foot and has one hand behind his back. And is he shaking a little?

He takes my hand in his and kisses it. "I have something to show you," he says as he brings his other hand forward. My eyes widen and I gasp at Sonic's severed head sitting in his open palms! His small smile turns into a huge elated grin and it's not nerves he's shaking with at all, it's pure excitement!

I know full well he isn't genuinely presenting this as a gift to me and it's really him showing off to me but his demeanor and way of presenting it is like that of a 1950s husband presenting his housewife a bouquet of flowers. I'm certainly just as impressed and delighted and swoon as one would to receive them

"WOW you're so amazing! I knew you could do it with how smart, strong, and courageous you are~" I shower him in praise and kiss him. He sighs happily as he soaks it up, beaming with pride. One of his greatest dreams comes true and then he gets to come home to a man who gives him the love and praise he deserves!

"We must display such a fine and proud accomplishment like this immediately!" It seems he's done something to ensure that it doesn't dirty the pristine floors of his base that I recently polished so it's ready to do so right away. He follows me in and we place it on a pedestal

Of course he won't want the blue pest's head where he can see it to be reminded of his existence forever but for now it serves as a proud testament of his victory and as motivation, for destroying his friends and conquering the world will be a breeze now that their hero is dealt with permanently

We admire the display together. "I did it! The world will finally be mine!" He exclaims with unbridled glee. I share his enthusiam- "That's right! It'll be all yours and everyone will be forced to acknowledge your brilliance, the way they should! And you're gonna make such a mighty and handsome emperor~"

He presses himself against my back and his big hands grab my waist. I giggle and melt into it, feeling something poking me as he kisses my neck, very eager. This has made him so excited and he demands to celebrate right now and claim his reward. So he picks me up and kisses me while carrying me to the bedroom hehe 🥰💜

[musette22]

The Element of Surprise

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Rating: Explicit (18+ only please)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: rough(er) sex, light degrading language, light roleplay, light Dom/sub

A/N: AKA the long awaited mustache fic (awaited by no one but me, but still). I've had that little text convo at the beginning saved in my notes app for a long time, but I never quite knew how I wanted to follow it up. I still didn’t really know where I was going with this when I finally started writing it, but I should have known it would turn into filth. I’m not sorry, except to those of you who can't abide the 'stache (even though your opinion is wrong) <3 And btw, if you're thinking 'this reads like a bad porn flick', that is entirely intentional 😌 Hope you enjoy! Comments = love <3

****

C: be there in 30

S: I'll put a beer in the freezer

C: I love you

S: I know

S: love you too

C: and seb, just

C: don't laugh ok

S: huh?

S: why would I laugh

C: you'll see

S: ?? what does that mean?

C: be there soon 😘

Sebastian huffs, leaving his phone on the couch as he heads into his kitchen and pulls open the pantry door.

He doesn’t drink enough beer to permanently keep his fridge stocked with the stuff, and while Chris does love his beer (understatement), he’s trying to cut back. Or at least not to drink on weeknights. Too much. But since tonight is Friday and they have a whole weekend ahead of them in which they’ll be doing nothing but relaxing, ordering pizza, and watching movies, Sebastian figures they can start indulging a little early. He grabs a couple of beers from the bottom shelf, sticking them in the freezer to chill, so Chris will come home to a cold beer later.

As he returns to the living room and stretches out on the couch, bag of potato chips in hand, it occurs to Sebastian just how domestic it all feels. The thought makes him smile.

He’s never been very good at domesticity, which it’s why it’s even more surprising how much he likes it, this time around. He knows he shouldn’t get too used to having Chris in his space, he does, but it’s just too nice not to want to soak it up and roll around in it every chance he gets. The prospect of Chris staying at his place for longer than just a weekend makes something warm and giddy fizz in the pit of his stomach. It’s addictive.

For the next few months, Chris will be on stage every night in his first ever Broadway play, and for the duration of its run, he’ll be staying in New York.

Officially, Chris is renting a swanky place in Tribeca.

Unofficially, he’s staying with Sebastian at his tiny SoHo apartment.

The fact that Sebastian lives in New York played at least some part in Chris’s decision to do a Broadway play this year. They were both tired of only seeing each other whenever one of them could take a few days off to visit the other (under the radar, of course). Already, Chris spending an extended period of time in New York has done their relationship a world of good.

Things are good. Easy. If he’s being honest with himself, Sebastian can’t remember the last time he felt so content.

Since coming to New York, Chris has been going to rehearsals every weekday. Sebastian has sometime off in between projects, and he’s set to attend the premiere of Lobby Hero this Monday – ostensibly as an interested co-star, secretly in the capacity of supportive boyfriend. He can’t wait to see Chris shine on stage. Chris is nervous as hell, to the point where he’s wondered if blowing the whole thing off wouldn’t be better than letting everyone down, but there’s no doubt in Sebastian’s mind that he’ll knock it out of the park. Chris is a lot better than he gives himself credit for.

When a car door slams outside his apartment, Sebastian sits up, brushing the crumbs off his sweater – a soft, light blue one that Chris says brings out his eyes. When he darts a look out the window, Chris’s cab is just driving off. The man himself is keeping his head down, so all Sebastian can see is the top of the baseball cap he’s wearing.

Curious now, Sebastian gets up to greet Chris. Less than a minute later, the door to Sebastian’s apartment opens, Chris walks in, looks up, and –

Sebastian chokes on air.

The sound that leaves him is one he’s never heard himself make before; something high and squeaky and extremely embarrassing.

“Don’t,” Chris says instantly, a warning in his voice.

Sebastian gapes at him.

“You have a mustache,” he says faintly, once he’s remembered how to talk.

“Yep.” Chris lifts a hand to his face, fiddling with said mustache. “It’s for the role.”

Distantly, Sebastian registers he sounds a little off, and that’s when he finally notices the hint of apprehension in Chris’s eyes. Just the smallest glint of poorly concealed uncertainty.

Chris is worried, Sebastian realizes with a start.

Worried that Sebastian will laugh at him. That Sebastian might not find him attractive anymore.

Well. No need to worry about that, apparently.

Because for some unholy reason, that thing on Chris’s upper lip – big and bushy and only about half an inch on either side removed from being a handlebar mustache – is currently making Sebastian want to climb him like a fucking tree.

Not that he doesn’t normally want to do that, but urge is suddenly more intense than usual. By about three hundred and twelve percent.

“You look…”

“Ridiculous?” Chris supplies, self-deprecating as always. “Like my dad? A 70s porn star?”

“You look hot.” Sebastian doesn’t quite mean to blurt it out like that, but he does anyway. And. Well. That’s out there now.

Chris’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I – what?”

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathes. He runs a shaky hand through his short hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Look, I don’t know what this says about me, but uh. I am like, really fucking attracted to you right now. Even more than usual, I mean.”

For a long moment, Chris looks at him as if he’s crazy, or maybe like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, but once it becomes clear that Sebastian isn’t joking (if only he were), Chris’s expression turns into one of tentative amusement.

“You’re serious,” he says, taking a step closer. Keeping his eyes fixed on Sebastian’s face, he carefully runs his thumb and forefinger over the mustache in a gesture that kind of makes him look like he’s up to no good. “You like it?”

Sebastian swallows. “Uh-huh.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for guys with mustaches.”

“Neither did I.” Sebastian takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I think it might even just be you.”

“Oh, really?” Chris asks, some of his usual cheek returning now that he realizes he isn’t going to get laughed at. Far from it, in fact. “Huh. What do you like about it?”

“Um,” Sebastian says, swallowing as Chris steps closer. Oh Christ, it’s even worse up close. Or better, depending how you look at it. And Sebastian is looking at it. Can’t tear his eyes away from it, actually. “It. Uh - it makes you look…”

Several words flit, unbidden, through Sebastian’s mind, each one worse than the last. Macho. Authoritative. Mean.

“…good,” he finishes lamely.

Worryingly, Chris’s smile grows into a full-blown grin, and Sebastian’s skin erupts into goosebumps.

Oh, no. Sometimes Sebastian really wishes Chris didn’t know him as well as he does.

Though when Chris takes off his baseball cap, tossing it onto the hallway table, Sebastian hisses. “Ah, okay. The hair is kinda bad.”

Chris snorts, running his fingers through the spiky strands. “Right? I look like an asshole.”

“Little bit.”

Chris gives him a calculating look. “So… does that mean the effect is ruined?”

Sebastian takes a moment to consider this. “I mean, it’s objectively bad, but…” he trails off. Ugh, he really should be used to this by now, but on some level Sebastian still can’t believe that Chris can make literally any look work for him. So annoying. “…no. Not ruined. Sadly.”

Reassured, Chris slowly starts to advance on him. With every step that Chris takes forward, Sebastian takes one back, until his heels hit the wall of his hallway. He holds his breath, feeling like a bunny rabbit about to be eaten by a wolf, though presumably a little more turned on than said bunny rabbit would be at the prospect.

Stopping right in front of him, Chris leans in, placing his hands against the wall on either side of Sebastian’s shoulders.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Chris says, his breath ghosting Sebastian’s left ear. Sebastian shivers with his entire body – something which doesn’t escape Chris’s notice, and makes the grin turn into a smirk. “You come here often?”

Despite how turned on he’s rapidly getting, Sebastian snorts. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

Chris hums. “Funny how I haven’t seen you here before, then.”

“I have been saying you should get an eye test. You’ve been squinting a lot more lately.”

“Seb,” Chris huffs, fighting a smile. “C’mon, I’m tryin’ something here.”

“Right, sorry.” Sebastian clears his throat. “I, uh. I haven’t seen you before either.” Licking his lips, he adds, “Would’ve noticed if I had.”

“You would, huh? And why’s that?”

“Well, see…” Sebastian’s eyes drop to Chris’s mouth. Specifically, his upper lip situation. “It’s the mustache. Kinda hard to miss.”

Chris raises one eyebrow. “You know what else is hard?” he asks lewdly, rolling his hips.

Sebastian can’t stop himself – he lets out a helpless peal of laughter, throwing his head back and making it collide with the wall. He barely notices it, because the next thing he knows, Chris is on him, kissing up his throat and oh hello, okay, that feels weird. Good, but weird. He can’t even say why exactly it feels weird, since Chris’s beard used to tickle too, but somehow, when it’s just the ‘stache without the rest of it, it tickles more than it used to. Feels way more bristly like this.

Under Chris demanding mouth, Sebastian’s laugh morphs into a moan, and he slides down the wall a fraction, pressing into Chris and baring his neck a little further. Chris’s teeth scrape over his Adam’s apple, one of his hands wandering over Sebastian’s chest and squeezing at a pec.

“Sir,” Sebastian says, breathlessly scandalized. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“Just takin’ what I want.” Chris pulls back to look Sebastian in the eye, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You got a problem with that, sweetheart?”

Sebastian gulps, blinking hard. “No, sir.”

“That’s what I thought,” Chris leers, leaning in to bite at Sebastian’s bottom lip and pulling at it with his teeth. At the same time, he runs his left hand down Sebastian’s side and abs, all the way down until it slips between his legs. He cups the growing hardness there, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Oh, fuck,” Sebastian breathes, hands flying up to Chris’s waist.

“How’s that feel, honey? You like that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah? You want me to keep touching you?”

“Yes.” Another mean squeeze. “Yes, please,” Sebastian amends quickly.

“How sweet.” Chris palms Sebastian’s dick again, tight and warm and so good, before abruptly pulling back his hand, leaving Sebastian to whimper and buck his hips. “Well, that’s tough, sweetheart,” Chris tells him, “‘cause you’re not gettin’ anything else till I decide you’ve earned it.”

Before Sebastian even has time to process that, Chris spins them around so that Chris is the one with his back against the wall, and then roughly pushes Sebastian down to his knees with a big hand on his shoulder.

Sebastian moans; a little for show, and a little because he genuinely likes being pushed around a bit. Usually, though, it takes Chris a lot longer to let go liken this. It tends to happen only when he’s getting close and his all he blood in his brain has relocated to his dick, but now, it seems that a little bit of clumsy role-play also does the trick.

Whatever it is, Sebastian thinks, he’ll be damned if he lets an opportunity like this pass him by.

Resting his hands on Chris thighs, Sebastian eagerly leans in to nuzzle at his crotch, mouthing at the hardening outline of his dick through his jeans. Chris hisses, hand scrabbling at Sebastian’s hair, trying to find purchase before seeming to realize that Sebastian’s hair is too short to grab right now (and doesn’t that make Sebastian suddenly regret cutting it immensely) and resorting to putting a hand over Sebastian’s face and just pushing him away instead.

“Did I say you could do that?” Chris’s asks. His usually easy voice is now laced with something dark, something almost menacing, sending a shiver down Sebastian’s spine.

He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry, dick perking up eagerly inside his sweats. “No, sir. Sorry.”

“Damn right,” Chris mutters. “You’ll get it when I give it to you. Now, are you gonna be good for me?”

Sebastian sucks in a shaky breath. Goddamn.

“Are you?” Chris repeats, tapping Sebastian’s cheek to prompt him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods, a little dazed. “Yeah, I’ll be good.” He watches, fascinated, as Chris’s right hand deftly flicks open the button on his jeans, before slowly pulling down his zipper, inch by excruciating inch. Sebastian finds himself willing Chris to go faster, to let him see what he’s got in his pants, which is ridiculous, because Sebastian knows what Chris has got in his pants. He should, seeing as he’s sucked it plenty of times. But somehow, what they’re doing here feels all kinds of new and exciting. Makes his breath come faster, eyes glued to the bulge in Chris’s jeans and mouth starting to water in anticipation.

Once his zip is down, Chris lowers his jeans a little, just enough so he can comfortably cup his dick, giving himself a teasing squeeze. “You want this?”

Sebastian tears his eyes away from it and looks up at Chris, who’s looking down at him with a sardonic smile on his face.

“Yes, please,” Sebastian says, feeling his eyes go big and round almost of their own volition.

Chris groans quietly, stroking Sebastian’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Look at you. Such a pretty guy.” A devilish glint appears in his eyes as he adds, “Be a shame if something got you all dirty, wouldn’t it?”

Oh, jesus.

While Sebastian can’t do anything but watch uselessly, Chris takes himself out of his underwear, pulling down his boxers enough to hook the waistband under his balls but otherwise remaining fully clothed. His dick is all the way hard already, flushed that pretty shade of pink Sebastian loves so much, wetness pearling at the exposed tip. Sebastian’s mouth literally waters so much he needs to swallow. Once again, he leans in to try and get his mouth on Chris, and once again Chris pushes him back with an admonishing hand to the face.

“Now, now. Don’t be greedy.”

Sebastian huffs impatiently behind Chris’s palm. “Please.”

Chris chuckles, taking hold of Sebastian’s chin again and running the pad of his thumb over Sebastian’s bottom lip. Sebastian doesn’t waste any time in letting his mouth drop open, something thrilling inside of him when Chris slides his thumb between his lips and presses down on his tongue. Sebastian closes his lips around the digit, moaning softly as he suckles at it. It’s not quite what he wants, but it’s still part of Chris inside of him, and he’ll take what he can get.

Sebastian is all set to protest again when Chris pulls his finger out, but before he can say anything, Chris shuts him right back up again by taking his cock in hand and literally rubbing it in Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian makes a shocked noise, eyes fluttering closed and mouth going slack. He moans, louder than before, and it’s not for show this time. Not even a little bit. Fire licks up his spine, his dick giving a desperate twitch inside his sweats. Fuck, but that’s hot. It’s downright filthy, the way the wetness leaking from Chris’s dick feels on his clean-shaven cheeks. Makes him feel dirty and owned, helpless, desperate for it.

“Open up,” Chris tells him, tapping his cheek. “Stick out your tongue.”

Sebastian does, and then--  Chris puts his dick on it. Just rests it there, not moving. Like he has all the time in the world. Oh, god.

“Stay still.”

Sebastian tries – he tries so hard to keep still, to be good and wait until Chris tells him he can move, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own, rubbing lightly along the underside of Chris’s cock. The action causes it to spurt out some precome, which drips down his throat, making Sebastian swallow involuntarily. If asked, he’d swear he doesn’t shut his mouth on purpose, but if his lips closing around Chris’s shaft happens to make Chris groan and push in deeper, then that’s just a happy side effect.

“Suck it.” Chris’s voice has gone all low and rough now – and the order should sound stupid, like something out of a bad porn flick, but then this whole thing is kind of like a bad porn flick. And while that would usually be a turn off, right now, it’s setting Sebastian on fucking fire.

“I said, suck it,” Chris repeats, when Sebastian doesn’t obey right away, and presses in deeper, a little rough with it.

Sebastian jolts into action, moaning feverishly as he starts to suck Chris off as if his life depends on it. He uses his left hand, his tongue, his lips, and choking a little when he takes Chris too deep in one go –

And then suddenly, he’s being pushed back again.

Sebastian whines.

“Easy, tiger,” Chris clucks, a little condescending despite his breathlessness. “I said suck it, not slobber all over it like some horny teen that’s never seen a dick before.”

The rejection stings, but it’s a good sting; one that makes the back of Sebastian’s neck burn hot and his dick strain almost painfully against the material of his pants.

“You know,” Chris continues, rubbing the tip of his cock over Sebastian’s slick lips, almost absent-mindedly. “If you can’t control yourself, I’m gonna have to do it for you.” Not waiting for a reply, Chris grabs the back of Sebastian’s sweater and uses it to hold him in place. The neck of it strains against Sebastian’s throat when he tries to lean forward, causing him to draw in a raspy breath. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Sebastian whispers. He’s not sure if that’s the right answer, but it’s the honest answer, and the only one he’s got right now.

Chris shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Hooking his thumb over Sebastian’s bottom row of teeth, he pries his mouth open, forces his jaw down, and proceeds to feed his cock back into Sebastian’s mouth. And this time, he doesn’t stop until the head hits the back of his throat.

Despite having had a bit of practice, Sebastian’s gag reflex kicks in. He tries to swallows, and that makes Chris moan real pretty, so of course he does it again. Chris hips stutter and Sebastian’s eyelids flutter, and Chris pulls out before then sliding all the way back in again, over and over until Sebastian’s eyes start to water and his vision goes blurry.

When Chris tentatively thrusts in a little deeper still, a little rougher and less controlled, Sebastian lets out what is quite probably the most wanton sound he’s ever made.

“Ohh,” Chris muses, low and a little mean. “You like that, huh? Like it when you’re chokin’ on my dick? Yeah, ‘course you do, pretty little thing like you.”

Ho-ly-shit. They’re no strangers to a bit of dirty talk, but this… this feels different. It’s borderline degrading, what Chris is saying and doing, and Sebastian finds himself going wild for it.

Who knew.

Undoubtedly noticing Sebastian’s reaction, Chris does it again, pushing in deep and holding there until Sebastian starts to splutter. “Take it, all of it,” Chris orders, sounding almost unaffected. “Thought you wanted it, huh? C’mon, open wider. Yeah, that’s it.”

Feeling hot all over, Sebastian does his best to do what is asked of him. He opens his throat and relaxes as best he can, breathing harshly through his nose while he takes what Chris is giving him. He honestly might come in his pants any minute now, just from this. Chris’s cock is hard and heavy on his tongue, dripping down his throat, his familiar, musky scent everywhere, clouding Sebastian’s brain with screaming lust. One big hand rests heavy on Sebastian’s shoulder, fingers digging almost painfully into his trapezius muscle, and Sebastian’s knees hurt, and his jaw hurts, and he’s sore, and he’s gonna be even more sore later, but right now, he doesn’t care.

He feels good, amazing even. The only thing that’s missing now is seeing Chris fall apart. He wants Chris to come so badly, more so even than he wants to come himself, that he can feel it all the way down in his toes.

He doesn’t notice that his cheeks are wet until Chris brings up a hand to wipe at the tear tracks, meanwhile keeping up the relentless rhythm of his hips, steadily pumping in and out.

“Hey.”

Sebastian turns his eyes up, meeting Chris dark and heated gaze, misty through the tears. For a split second, Chris looks at him like himself, quickly cataloguing Sebastian’s condition, before seeming to decide they’re still on the same page. His eyes turn mean again, and Sebastian’s already racing heart skips a beat.

Chris coos then, a soft aaww which makes Sebastian feel equal parts cherished and pathetic. “Should see yourself, honey. Cryin’ and drooling all over my cock…” Chris thumbs at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth, wet with a mixture of spit and tears and Chris’s slick. “Jesus, you’re a mess.”

The words are condescending, but Chris’s voice sounds awed despite himself, and Sebastian is lit up with it from the inside out. He can tell Chris is getting close. Can hear it in his breathing, feel it from the way his thrusts get sloppier and rougher, dick occasionally slipping out and rubbing against Sebastian’s cheek before making its home in his eager mouth again.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” Chris groans, fingers tightening impossibly on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Gonna make me come. Shit.”

Sebastian moans, letting Chris know how much he wants that, willing him to go faster.

Chris curses again, breathless now, heavy lidded eyes locked on Sebastian’s. “So close, f-fuck. Gonna come all over that pretty face, baby. Ahh, fuck yeah.”

Chris thrusts in deeply one last time, his mouth dropping open. Sebastian feels the first spurt of his release hit the back of his throat, before Chris hastily pulls out and lets the rest of it spill on Sebastian’s face. Come hits his cheeks, his nose, drips down into his mouth, warm and wet and Chris. It’s accompanied by an acute sense of accomplishment, making Sebastian feel boneless and sated, like he’s the one who just blew his load.

As if his strings have been cut, Chris slumps, sliding down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. His eyes, still a little wild with the remnants of his ecstasy, roam over Sebastian’s face, wide like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, grabbing Sebastian’s head between his hands and kissing him, deep and filthy. His tongue pushes in, hot and demanding, licking the taste of himself out of Sebastian’s slack mouth. The mustache is rough against Sebastian’s face. It stings a little, and Sebastian relishes it.

Abruptly, Chris breaks the kiss only to pull him closer, practically into his lap. Sebastian is mostly boneless at this point, except for the bit between his legs, so he lets himself be pulled and arranged like a ragdoll until he’s sandwiched between Chris’s spread thighs.

Chris’s hand fumbles with the drawstring on Sebastian’s sweats, sticking a hand down his pants. When his fingers wrap around his aching dick, Sebastian nearly sobs with relief. He hadn’t even realized how desperate for release he was, too focused on Chris’s pleasure to even register his own need, but now that Chris is touching him, finally touching him, the need to come slams into him like a freight train. The angle is awkward, and Sebastian has trouble breathing because his throat hurts and Chris is still trying to sucking his face off, but it doesn’t matter. He is so on edge that after only a few strokes, he cries out and shoots off all over Chris’s hand. He buries his face in Chris’s neck, mouth open and slack against the warm skin beneath Chris’s ear, while he rides out the aftershocks.

Christ, that was good.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Chris starts rubbing circles over Sebastian’s back. It’s a calming gesture, soothing. Apologetic. “You okay?” he asks quietly. “Did I hurt you?”

Sebastian takes stock of his body. He’s sore as hell, but it’s a good kind of sore. Nothing hurts, in the bad sense of the word. “I’m okay,” he slurs, only it comes out more like, “Mmmhfgk.”

“You sure?” Chris presses. “‘Cause I – I got a little carried away there. Fuck, I didn’t even check if that was okay, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian scoffs, lifting his head. If there’s one thing Sebastian is certain of, it’s that Chris would have stopped immediately if Sebastian had given even the slightest indication that he wasn’t having a good time. He fixes Chris with a hard look – or at least, as hard as he’s capable of in his post-orgasmic state. “Did I look like it wasn’t okay? That was so hot, Chris. It was like, maximum okay.”

Chris makes a sound, reaching up to wipe at Sebastian’s cheeks with his sleeve. “Jesus, Seb.” He still looks a little stunned, wide-eyed and red-cheeked. The mustache makes him look a little dumb, and Sebastian really does kind of love it.

He lifts a finger, gently stroking it over the bristly hairs.

“Thanks for making me feel better about this thing,” Chris says, his eyes back to being soft and loving now.

Sebastian shakes his head. “My pleasure, believe me. I mean, I’m a little concerned about myself, but I’m glad it stopped you worrying.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“’Course not,” Sebastian replies, patting Chris’s chest.

They sit there for a moment, catching their breath and allowing their minds to unmuddle themselves.

Suddenly, Sebastian jolts upright. “Oh, shit.”

Chris is on instant alert, gaze sharpening as he takes Sebastian in from head to toe. “What is it?” he asks, obviously assuming Sebastian has suddenly discovered that Chris did hurt him after all. “What’s wrong?”

“Your beer.”

Chris blinks at him. “My beer?”

“It’s still in the freezer. It’s only supposed to be in there for like, fifteen minutes tops.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Fuck the beer,” he says, pulling Sebastian back into his chest.

“But what if it explodes and ruins my freezer?”

“I’ll buy you a new freezer, jeez. Dork.”

“Hey,” Sebastian scolds mildly. “Don’t forget I’m the dork who just made you come your brains out.”

“Trust me,” Chris says, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’m not forgetting that any time soon.”

Read on AO3

[ennaku-sirri-da]

He's my best friend best of all best friends💏

[ Plain text: He's my best friend best of all best friends💏( men kissing emoji)]

So @boo-bookeys-reblogs left very kind tags on a post of mine for my AU....

[ID: A screenshot of the tags from the blog Boo Bookeys Reblogs. They read 'baby i love this. I absolutely love it when draw characters in their own interpretations." Then " and "wow! This is such a design for them! It's gorgeous! I'm obsessed!" And then general tags regarding the game Smile For Me, the ship Habismal and GIFs. End ID]

Live Habismal reaction!

[ Plain text: Live Habismal reaction! ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart of the game Smile For Me involving the characters Kamal Bora and Dr. Habit, but my versions from my AU Roseverse. The sketch is done in blue pen and uncolored. Lightly rough pencil lines are seen as well. It is their reaction to the previous tags.

In the artists AU interpretation Habit has marionette features such as segmented, jointed dark line-cuts around his mouth, hands that are visible. He looks thin. A bit of a small droopy chests outline is visible. Stitch-scarring is seen on arms. He is also fur covered. His face is gaunt and freckled with protruding furry cheeks, then fur-ruffles under his makeup-applied eyes, then a thin pencil stache with surrounding chin and neck hair. The middle of the neck is surrounded by a scar, and he has an Adams apple. His teeth are broken and he has one snaggletooth fang. His voluminous curly hair poofs out into drawn spiralling curls, but he is clearly balding on one side too with stray hairs perking up. Here Habit wears a half-handed buttoned shirt tucked into his pants a bit, rounded off with a belt. From his collar is a tie with polka dots. The shirt is modified with a frilly collar, poofy shoulder parts. The pants are jeans.

Kamal meanwhile has a more aged appearance as well-- wrinkly face, sagging jowls and crooked nose. He has a clear middle-tooth gap. He looks of a more average size. Some acne and sharp stubble. He has a less prominent Adams apple. He has white streaks in short dark hair, has puffy eyebags paired with bushy brows. Here Kamal wears his hair in a really short ponytail. He has on a lint-ball covered hoodie that looks scratchy, its strings at the front hang unevenly. A bit of a black shirt underneath is seen. For minimal jewellery, he has a teardrop-shaped chew necklace and a single small gold earring on the left.

Habit stands straight up while Kamal hunches over. His height reaches up to just about Habit's chest.

Habits pupils are constricted as he shoots his hand up in a gasp of surprise, the other one tight behind his back. Kamals eyes are a bit wide and he smiles, reaching up from his posture, as if pleasantly surprised.

In black cursive text below is the compliment they're reacting to, "You're gorgeous! I'm obsessed. " Gorgeous is underlined in pink with a heart on the exclamation mark. End ID]

....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..?

[ Plaintext : ....

They both think you complimented the other one! Obviously they're the hotter one, right..? ]

[ ID: Traditional fanart, continuing the part above. This one is fully colored digitally. The sketch lines are scanned thick and black, defined.

Kamal has a warm medium brown skintone and dark tousled grey hair with white streaks. His hairband is dark blue with glittery spots. The facial places with his acne are reddened and darkened, few white pimples. His hands have hairy knuckles and darkened finger areas. There are Beau's lines on his nails. His hoodie is a soft grey with pastel red undertones and a darker hood area. It has a yellow patch on the lower right arm which says " We will always love you( This is threaded in red and cursively) Kamal(Kamal is threaded with gold in Assamese) OUR SON( this is thickly threaded in teal ) ( The transgender symbol is seen )". Meanwhile on his red chew necklace with rose-pink string, a simple design of a twisting flower with bisexual colors is drawn, its leaves are purple.

Habit has apple-green fur and shades of deep rose-pink hair. His facial hair and the balding spot is of a darker shade. The sclera of his eyes are a light pink to indicate loving adoration, his pupils are dark brown. He has on purple eyeshadow, red lipstick and nailpolish. His eyebags and fur-ruffles are of a deep red sort. Some of his cheek-sticker freckles are white. The stitch-scars, ball joints, joint-cuts and wrinkles are done in a much darker green. Habit's shirt is a light rose-pink with a pale shade of it for the collar frills. His tie is yellow with green polka dots. His belt is standardly brown plus silver-buckled and his jeans are a pastel yellow and pink.

Kamal pulls down Habit by his tie lightly, and Habit willingly leans down too, one hand resting on his leg to balance. Kamal talks to him, looking playful, brows furrowed and grinning wide in challenge. Some sweat trickles down. He is looking up, his hair being pushed up by Habit's face touching close to his. Some of the other's lipstick smudges Kamal's nose tip red. Habit rests his other hand on Kamal's shoulder, twirling two of his fingers in strands from Kamal's ponytail. He too talks back, smiling unevenly big, looking coquetteish. A deep pink blush blooms from across his face to a bit of his neck. Habits hair falls down and covers Kamal amidst it.

The BG is a emanating yellow that gets softer starting from the bright light behind Habit's head. There are very light pastel rainbow flares in wide arcs throughout. Red hearts are drawn from Habit, and smaller blue hearts from Kamal. End ID]

Dialog!! Please read!!! Habitspeak translation provided below for those who need.

[ Plaintext: Dialog!! Please read!!! Plaintext and Translation provided below for those who need. ]

" I yam very b-eàu-tiful but I onlee rlly believe it when someone with a soul as irriziztebly sexy as ur face is tells me that. I can tell that mie current shrink doesn't mean it like u do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLES, I had the third real religgious ex-perience in my whole lyfe, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body u've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote)Oh bb.. I can't resist the attenshun of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit ov every-thing and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making a heart emoji) "

" And how do "U" feel? :- ) (smile emote)"

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Lov u 2💋( lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--Habitspeak Translation

" I am very beautiful but I only really believe it when someone with a soul as irresistibly sexy as your face is tells me that. I can tell that my current shrink doesn't mean it like you do"

" SssssSShut the fuck up. Y-your, your left dimple could outclass my whole operation anyday"

"PLEASE, I had the third real religious experience in my whole life, seeing that Godblessed Godkissed body you've got too"

"..This shit isn't fair how am I supposed to own you if you're SO nice to me, doll eyes? Look at em pretty doll eyes....full of love ..I, I, your hearts so big if I ate it I'm pretty sure I'd violently barf????"

" :\\- ) ( blushing smile emote) Oh baby.. I can't resist the attention of such a handsome, self-made man....you are really making this so hard, but don't stop~~"

"Hee hee. Heh heh...hee hee! An' yourself...your a smokin'..... What're you feeling today, again? I'm sorry, I forgot..."

"Little bit of everything and nothing toooo!!!"

" Right. Thanks. Smokin'...um, smokingly gender neutral. Smashing that binary, baby🫶( hands making heart emoji)"

" And how do "You" feel? :- ) (smile emote) "

" G.....good. 'Bout me, right? Not usually that type, but.... Heh, yeah. But don't you forget too, love ya."

" Love you too💋 (lipstick kiss emoji) and I'll try "

--

THANK YOU @boo-bookeys !!!!! IM REALLY GLAD PEOPLE LIKE MY HARD AND ALSO GAY WORK!!!!

[Plain text: Thank you @boo-bookeys !!!!! I'm really glad people like my hard and also gay work!!!!]

[fduplegacy]

one time Ken locked up Audrey without evidence

When she got free, first thing she did was mail a glitterbomb to his house. The wife was so happy her husband got mail that she drove to the office to deliver it personally.

It exploded all over his face. He walked out of the precinct to find Audrey sitting in a bench by the park, leaning back and hiding her face behind a coffee cup. He could tell she was smiling though.

They found no prints or evidence on the box. Even the glitter used on the bomb was not sold within the state. He couldn't do anything about it.

Adam took a picture of Ken's angry face and they hung it up on the livingroom.

"Red glitter does wonders for his 'stache" said Adam as he marveled upon the angry red expression on the photo.

"Good thing it's gonna stay there for months" replied Audrey with an uncharacteristic chirpness in her tone.

"Or years" Adam shrugged

"His rotting corpse will still have glitter on it when the time comes." she said with a smirk. Adam felt his heart skip. Her smiles were few and far between. But he was always the reason for them. He extended his arm to wrap around her shoulders. She allowed this.

"I must say... this was way better than killing him." Adam said in a relaxed tone as he leaned his head over hers.

"Let time take care of that. He's senile enough." Her stance relaxed under Adam. It always did, even if she didn't realize it.

"I do feel bad for the wife. She seems nice..."

"She didn't get caught on the crossfire. Besides, whe laughed as well... might send her cookies though... a peace offering?" She turned her head to meet his eyes.

"Deliver them in person. She won't trust packages for a while." He leaned down to nuzzle her face, then he bit the apple of her cheek, softly at first. Then she pushed him once the mark of his teeth was left on her skin.

"Serves her right. She fell for the Nigerian Prince mail more times than I can count." She said as she rubbed her cheek.

"She's old... cut her some slack." Adam said as he nuzzled her head again, an apology for the bite.

"I don't care. The sheriff will though. How come his wife is still dense enough to fall for that?" She let him hug her again, accepting the apology.

"Do better, Geraldine... how else can we face the town?" He said in a raspy tone, mocking Ken's voice.

"But what if the prince really does need our help? Maybe we'll get a medal for our troubles..." Audrey responded in a convincing old lady voice.

Adam laughed before hugging her tighter, squeezing her until she was squirming in his arms. He didn't even flinch at her struggle, and the more she fought, the harder he held her. He hummed and swayed them as he hugged her, and sisnt let go until she bit his arm hard enough to make him hiss.

"I have things to do." Audrey said in a stern tone as she walked away from him, not without running her hand over the new bite mark on his arm.

"Fine... but I'm not letting you off the hook." Adam said as he followed behind her.

"Didn't expect you to. Are you gonna help or no?" She said calmly as she began setting up the things she needed for that day's blog.

"What are you making?" He asked as he leaned on the counter, setting the things down as she passed them to him.

"Tomato soup and homemade bread... maybe mash potatoes too if I feel like it" She said as she pulled out pans and wooden spoons.

"Do I get to taste test?" He asked with a pleading grin.

"You get to cut the food. Then we eat when it's done." She replied, standing back up to stare at him. "You've seen it before, so why the question?"

"You never let me lick the spoon..." he said in a pouty tone.

"It's gross. And I do let you lick the spoon when I make desserts, not when it goes back on the pot."

"Fine. But you're making it up to me" he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Spoiled.." she said with a slow shake of her head, hiding the smallest of smiles. He noticed it anyway.

"Who's fault is it?"

"Mine, of course. I wouldn't expect otherwise."

[redfurrycat]

TimeTravel AU: Mitchell Nicholas Bradshaw-Seresin timetravels back to TGM time.... Let's say he makes quite the impression.... and wins everyone's heart (that guy has the Bradshaw²-Seresin-Mitchell-Kazansky charm..... irresistible)

Grandpops and Grandmiral sob at the sight.

The Dagger Squad aunts and uncles have fun with Baby Dagger.

And the dads both think their son has horrifying style (it's a combo of cowboy and hawaiian stached pianist looks). That's what they say.....with heart eyes of fucking course because they have a loved child together??!!! Holy shit?!

"Does this mean Bradley/Jake like-me-like-me?" [Mutual idiotic pining]

Also Mitchell Nicholas Bradshaw-Seresin's callsign is Peacock.

1) Farm Bird (ish.....peacocks are adjacent farm birds at the very least).

2) "a male peacock uses his feathers to attract a mate, peacocking involves using a man's clothing and adapting his behavior in an over the top and flashy manner, for the purpose of attracting women"--- HUMHUM. [Flashback to THAT bar scene]

3) Callsign with suggestive meaning (let's continue the Bradshaw-Seresin tradition)

Finally, Peacock is considered the best fighter pilots ever and will be the youngest COMPACFLT... ;)

Glen Powell really rocked that thick Goose mustache…. perhaps in another multiverse he could’ve played Goose’s son in Top Gun: Maverick ;) // from IWC & Blue Angels Pilot Watches

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter. 

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?" 

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born.  To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms. 

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker." 

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

Tag List Chat

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Damn why is he so cute!?

Bear • fluff

"Bear we gotta shave your mustache today." You said standing in the doorway with a razor and shaving cream. Henry who was on his computer smiled when he heard what you said before turning to you. 

"Why?" 

You pushed yourself off of the wall with a sigh. "Well… I don't really like it." You walked and stood beside him. Henry turned in his chair, pulling you closer to him by your waist. He looked up at you with his beautiful blue eye than he spoke.

"Well then shave it off poppet." His adorable smile and soft voice made you flustered. "Okay." 

You swung your legs over his, straddling him. Henry's hands found your waist as he watched you take a little shaving cream and put it in your hand. You then tilted his head up so you can put it on his mustache. 

"I love your August look but I want my clean face bear." A smile appeared on Henry's face as he listened to your little ramble. "It really tickles when you kiss me." You said as you took the razor and started to shave it. 

"Hate to say it bear, but it kinda looks like a pornstache." Henry chuckled at the comment that just came out of your mouth. "Henry! Stop moving. You're going to mess me up." You said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry, you're just adorable." You smiled it Your boyfriend. "It's all because of you big guy."

Henry felt butterflies in his stomach as he looked at you. No one has ever made him feel the way you made him feel. Your smile brightens his day just as much as your laugh did. The way you left him notes before he left to go to work and the way you gave him a long kiss when he was stressed made him feel like he was the luckiest man in the world. 

To be honest, he was!

"Okay I'm all done." You placed the razor on the table with the towel you were using. Looking back at Henry you smiled. "There's my bear." You leaned down and kissed Henry's nose." 

"Alright what should we do now?" You looked at Henry waiting for an answer. "Well we can cuddle or we can try to make something, or we can have sex."

As he finished you felt him rise under You. A laugh fell from your lips. "Hm okay, let's go with the last one." You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Take me to the bedroom bear." Henry picked you up by your waist.

"Don't ask me twice poppet."

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Masterlist • requested closed momentarily. Don't send any!

Summary:

I dont know if your still taking requests but if you are then how bout you giving henry a shave? Like he no longer needs his beard or stach and you sit on his lap shaving it for him. Its a sign of trust and intimacy.

Gif credit to the lovely @demivampirew

@cristinagronk16 @pastelblogsposts @thereisa8ella @maan24 @tumblnewby @keiva1000 @henrythickcavill @desprate-and-broken @notyourtypicalrose

[writeyouin]

aaahh, thank you so much!! you're definitely cooler, tho òwó since the thighs of thunder comment has inspired me so, how bout a pre-game scenario in which best friends Jack, Will, and reader are hanging out at an ice cream shop or something and during their convo reader "casually" comments that Jack is hella fine, in so many words? maybe she drops the thighs of thunder comment verbatim, LMAO. their reactions are up to you. female preferred, neutral's fine too! (I hope this isn't too vague ;v;)

Jack Joyce X Reader – A Hypothesis

A/N – Ahh, my first fic in awhile, I hope you enjoy it Quantum Anon.

Warnings – Mild language.

Rating – T

The sun cast a warm glow over Riverport, reminding the small town that summer was coming and it was going to be a hot one. You, Will and Jack were seated on a small metal table under the awning of Gabrielle’s, Riverport’s favourite long-time Ice Cream Parlour. Sixties music played lazily from the building’s speakers, setting up the perfect atmosphere for friendly conversations. The general mood from the staff and families inside the building were generally happy since the Ice Cream parlour had recently been saved from bankruptcy by a new company, though you couldn’t remember the name of it; Monty Solutions, or something similar.

All in all, it should have been a marvellous day, and it would have been, if it wasn’t for the on-going tensions between the Joyce brothers. Unless things got better between Will and Jack quickly, you knew Jack would leave Riverport. That was why you’d suggested the outing in the first place; evidently it was a mistake to do so.

“Unbelievable, Will!” Jack exploded from your left, making you flinch. “Seriously, I cannot believe you.”

“As is the definition of unbelievable,” Will countered snarkily from your right.

“Asking me to give up my inheritance for you over some half-baked scheme is crazy. You won’t even tell me what it is!”

“How many times? It’s not a scheme, it’s a scientific endeavour.”

“Call it what you want. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re insane.”

“And you’re insufferable.”

Jack threw up his arms frustratedly, “Why are you even here? (Y/N), why is he here?”

Will rolled his eyes, “I could ask the same thing if it wasn’t so painfully obvious.”

Both men fell silent, turning their hard gazes to you, though Jack softened marginally. You gave an awkward half-smile, having hoped neither of the brothers would have commented on the fact you’d invited them out under false pretences. Both originally thought that it would only be you and them individually; you knew if you’d have told them the truth they wouldn’t have come.

“C’mon guys, it’s not that bad, is it?” You asked helplessly.

“Yes,” They answered simultaneously.

Will’s chair scraped against the sidewalk as he got up, “That’s it. I’m done.”

Irritated by the quick turn of events, you slammed your fist against the table, “Sit down this instant.”

Will eyed you carefully, lowering himself back into his seat. He doubted he would have done the same for anyone else, but he cared about you greatly, even if he didn’t often show it. When the Joyce brothers’ parents passed away and Jack assumed responsibility for Will, you and Paul were the only ones from Jack’s original friend group to stick around through the bad times. As such, Will had grown a sort of detached fondness for you, like you were another sibling there to settle the arguments between him and Jack when they hit a stalemate.

“I invited you both out so we could have a nice day, just like the old times. Remember when we used to come here after school and talk about whatever was bothering us? Jack, when it was your finals, Will helped you study algebra here, and Will, when those idiots in class started bullying you, Jack taught you how to throw a punch here. Now it’s your turn to sit down and stop arguing for one day for me, because this may very well be the last day we get together like this. Can you do that?”

Jack looked away sullenly, mumbling a rushed, “Yeah.”

You glanced at Will who nodded curtly, embarrassed at being reprimanded by you.

“Good. I’m going inside to order now and when I get back, I expect to find the two of you talking nicely.”

Once you’d left Jack spoke again, “Jeez, looks like we made mom mad.”

Will wrinkled his nose disgustedly, “Gross. Don’t tell me you see (Y/N) in a parental light. That is hardly appropriate.”

“What are you talking about? You’re always saying stuff like that.”

“Exactly.”

“What? Wait, you’ve lost me.”

Will sighed, hating that he had to explain the paths his mind took, as usual; he might not have been as agitated about it if he and Jack hadn’t been arguing only minutes before. All the same, he tried to explain his thought-process to Jack, “Okay, think of (Y/N)’s relationship with you like… like an egg.”

“An egg?” Jack echoed.

Will could see from Jack’s confused expression that it wasn’t the time for metaphors. “Okay, forget the egg. Long story short, (Y/N) has a crush on you, so you can’t ever make a parent joke again.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, chuckling to himself, any previous anger towards Will forgotten. “You think (Y/N) has a crush on me?”

“No. I know (Y/N) has a crush on you.”

“No offense Will, but you’re hardly good at reading people.”

“Once again, you’ve proved my point. I,” Will pointed to himself, “Can’t read social cues. It’s rare that I’m ever sure what people think or feel, so when I say I know-”

“-You know,” Jack finished thoughtfully. “Alright, I’m game. How do we prove your crazy hypothesis?”

Will looked through the parlour window to make sure you weren’t coming out any time soon. There were a few people in front of you, so he figured he had some time if he spoke as fast as his mind went. He leaned closer to Jack, “Okay. You’re basically a male chimp.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, “A chimp…”

“Yes, keep up. In the wild, male chimps show their interest in mates by displaying their genetalia-”

Jack pointed warningly at Will, “If you’re suggesting for even a second that I send a dick pick-”

Will slapped Jack over the head, “Don’t be disgusting. I was going to say if we translate that behaviour to a socially acceptable equivalent, all you need to do is show you’re a worthy partner through a feat of skill or strength that highlights your muscles. See that guy behind the counter about to serve (Y/N)?”

Rubbing his sore head, Jack turned to examine a gangly forty-something man with an unflattering porn-stache. “Yeah.”

“You have to assert your dominance by punching him.”

Jack stared at Will disbelievingly, “I’m not punching some random guy.”

“He’s not random. I picked him because he short-changed me the last time I was here.”

“Fine, then I’m not punching some guy because you don’t like him.”

“Well then what do you propose?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” Jack replied sarcastically, “how about I just ask (Y/N) how (s)he feels about me?”

“We’ll call that plan B.”

“I’m not punching-”

“Quiet, (Y/N)’s coming.”

You took your seat between the pair, “Ice cream will be here soon. Did you two find something nice to talk about while I was away?”

“Sort of,” Jack smiled playfully.

“’Kay, then hit me with it.”

“The guy behind the counter is a menace to society,” Will jumped in.

You nodded agreeably, “Tell me about it. He tried to short-change me. I should have decked him for it.”

“See,” Will said to Jack. “I told you my plan would have worked.”

“Plan?”

Jack was practically grinning from ear to ear, “Yeah, Will had a pretty fun hypothesis.”

“Do tell,” You said eagerly, awaiting yet another one of Will’s crazy theories that you had grown accustomed to over the years.

Will looked away awkwardly. You turned your attention to Jack, wondering exactly what you had accidently stumbled upon.

“(Y/N), do you have a crush on me?” Jack said, waiting eagerly for you to get flustered.

Instead, you answered coolly, “Sure I do. Who could resist those thunder-thighs you got?”

Just then, a server came out with a tray of ice-cream sundaes. Before she could pass them out, Will got up and grabbed his off the tray. “I don’t want to be here for this,” He said, heading for a table inside.

The server didn’t even bat an eyelid at the unusual scene. She placed a sundae in front of you and another in front of Jack who was laughing into the palm of his hand, practically convulsing, and without a word went back inside.

“THUNDER THIGHS!” Jack sputtered in hysterics.

You smiled. “I didn’t hear you deny it.”

Once his laughter had subsided somewhat, Jack looked at you quizzically. “Seriously, what does that even mean?”

You grabbed your spoon, tucking into your ice cream before gracing Jack with an answer. “Remember in high school when you decided to join the football team?”

“Yeah.”

“Back then I only went to those dumb games to watch you play.”

“And here was me thinking it was for the love of the sport,” Jack quipped.

“Alright, I get it, you knew that already. What you don’t know is that I led you to believe I was there to support you, but really I just went to watch you in those cute gym shorts. When you tackled, you looked great, or rather, your thighs did.”

“I think you’ll find all of me looks amazing; if you weren’t so focused on my thighs, you’d have noticed that by now.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me I inflated your ego further,” You groaned.

“While it was obviously indecent of you to stare so brazenly at me, especially without an escort, I find myself flattered that you think I’m the most beautiful creature you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”

“Careful or I’ll find someone else to stare at.”

“It’s far too late for that. At your age, it’s time to settle down with someone, before you’re put out to pasture. That’s why I’m going to make a one of a kind offer to you. If you go out with me tonight, I promise you won’t die alone… My thighs will be there too.”

You rested your hand over his, smiling the entire time, “Well, when you put it that way, I’d say you have yourself a date Mr Joyce… Should we call Will back now?”

Jack glanced through the shop window where Will was sat at the back, eyeing the two of you cautiously. “Give it a few more minutes. I think if we both stare at him for a while, the paranoia might break him.”

“What an interesting hypothesis.”

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[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.11: “Damaged Goods”

THEN: Oh, good, we're going to have a Nick episode. I was hoping for that. (NOT.) Michael is trapped in Dean's internal walk-in. Billie has bad news related to that.

NOW: Nick interrogates a demon about another demon named Abraxis. The name sounds a little familiar and I waste a few seconds wondering where I've heard it before, but then I realize it's the demon who killed Nick's family and this has been Nick's entire focus and that's how little I care about Nick and his quest, that I couldn't even bother to remember who he was after. Anyway, he learns that the hunter who last dealt with Abraxis is in Hibbing. Oooh, who else do we know in Hibbing?

Title card!

Dean is packing. Books about angels. Tools. Work gloves. I was a little afraid we were going to ignore last week's horrifying revelation, and Dean would just sit on that information for a while. But he's wearing his Red Shirt of Bad Decisions, so we know the shit is going down tonight! \o/

He leaves the storeroom and kind of looks down the hallway, which is really insignificant the first time you watch this episode, but on rewatch you realize what he's thinking right here, and that he doesn't ever expect to see this hallway again... but I'm getting ahead of myself. He goes into the library, where Sam is quietly studying in the darkness (is that a new shirt? I like it). He ignores it when Sam asks how he's feeling. Dean tells Sam he appreciates that he's trying to help him, and Sam's all, yeah, what else would I do? He asks if Dean wants to join him, and they have this conversation.

Actually, I thought I'd go for a drive, you know, just me and Baby, long stretch of road. And figured I'd make it a two-fer, go see Mom at Donna's cabin.

Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Be good to see them. Just let me find a stopping point and get packed up.

Actually, I was, uh, I was kind of hoping for some one-on-one time with Mom, if that's cool.

Yeah. Sure, yeah. Whatever you need.

And I thought this conversation was going to break my heart, because Sam clearly does NOT think this trip sounds great, but he's going to go anyway because it's what Dean wants/needs to do, and then Dean rejects that, and Sam's little face is going to do me in. And on rewatch, it kind of seems like Dean is stalling here, like he can't bring himself to leave (but again, I'm getting ahead of myself) AND THEN THIS HAPPENS.

Dean comes around behind Sam and HUGS HIM and says "take care, Sammy" and I'm just WHAAAAT. NO THIS IS NOT RIGHT. THIS IS SUCH A BAD, BAD SIGN, SAM WINCHESTER, AND YOU KNOW IT.

And also, there goes the rest of my heart.

Cut to Mary at the aforementioned cabin, talking to Sam on the phone. She says the cabin's been quiet since Bobby took off for a few days. The old "I need a little space after killing the ghoul version of my dead son" thing. Happens to the best of us. Sam tells her he's worried because Dean's acting so weird, and mentions the hug. Mary says "that's sweet," proving that she doesn't know her sons at all. Really, Mary, you've witnessed ONE hug between them. ONE. Sam points out that they don't hug unless it's "literally the end of the world," which isn't quite true. It would be more accurate to say "unless one of us is dying or just came back from the dead," which is slightly more frequent than the end of the world Either way, Mary assures him that everything will be fine. But as Sam's talking to her, he's walking through the storerooms in the bunker and he sees some books are missing.

(Sidebar: Why are these books kept in the storeroom and not the library? And why are regular tools apparently kept with supernatural paraphernalia? Couldn't that cause problems? What if a MoL novice was sent to Storeroom 2 for a reciprocating saw and he couldn't figure out why a saw would reciprocate or what that would look like and he came back with something he dug out of a curse box instead? I'm seeing all kinds of potential OSHA violations here.)

Now we see Dean enjoying a messy burger. Oh, he's with Donna! I love Dean and Donna, y'all. She tries to ask him about himself, but he keeps deflecting. Which doesn't fool her at all, and she finally says "just wondering if you've run out of ways to ask me how I'm doing, so as to avoid me repaying the favor." She knows about Michael, because of Sam. "What, has he got a freaking newsletter," Dean grumps. But I'm glad to see Sam's been talking to his support system, because in the past, he's not done that as often as he should.

Dean ends the conversation with the typical "I'm fine" nonsense and gives Donna one of those big hugs where he looks absolutely stricken while she can't see him and then plasters on a smile when they pull apart, and you KNOW how I love when he does that. He pulls away and says "I'll see ya." But it's pretty obvious Dean is on his farewell tour and never intends to see Donna again. It's also pretty obvious that Donna can tell something is up.

Dean pulls up to the cabin, which is seriously in need of some work on the roof, and immediately hears gunshots. It turns out to be Mary murdering some pumpkins for target practice. (SHE'S STILL GOT THAT LOCK OF TOO-LONG HAIR.) He tells her he wants to stick around for a couple of days, which surprises her. She suggests they call Sam to join them, but he says he wants to be "a little greedy with my Mom time." No, Dean, that's not suspicious at all. Jesus. (Or, as someone pointed out, Sorry Sam, but Mom was MY gift.)

Mary pushes it, and Dean comes right out and says "I don't want Sam here," and again, Dean, that's not suspicious at all. How is someone who lies professionally such a BAD liar? He explains his mood away by claiming to be hangry, even though he just finished the best burger in all of Minnesota, and tells Mary he wants the one thing she can cook, something called Winchester Surprise. She heads out to the grocery store, and doesn't suggest that the son who drove all this way to see her would want to ride along. Or maybe she does, and he refuses, and they just didn't show us that part. Anyway, the important thing is, Dean's alone and he has work to do.

He gets his bag out of the Impala and strides purposely into a large shed decorated with pictures of topless guys with 70s porn 'staches. The first one reminds me a LOT of Doug 2.0, so I laugh when Dean says "Well, Donna certainly has a type." Yes she does. He finds an 8-track player, of all things, but is interrupted by a sudden burst of Michael banging on his door. The tape he chooses is the Guess Who, and the song is "No Time Left For You," which I've never liked (lots of experience with 70s music here, kiddos) but it seems appropriate. And then he gets to work, and if you thought Sam soldering last week was hot, you're in for a treat. Let's forget our annoyance with the soundtrack and concentrate on how much we appreciate Metalworking!Dean, complete with welding helmet and safety goggles, under the watchful eyes of several shirtless moustachioed cowboys.

Mmmm, yes, we do appreciate it.

(Sidebar: Where did all this metal come from?)

Meanwhile, at the grocery store, we get a fake-out where we think someone threatening is accosting Mary, but it's only a friendly employee. And we also see that Mary puts her grocery bags in the bed of her truck? So not only does she not know how to cook, but she doesn't even know where to PUT FOOD? I.e., IN THE CAB?

He says buying food is new for her, because she usually buys whiskey, pumpkins, and crossword puzzles. Damn, Mary, it really seems like things aren't going well out there at the Love Shack if you're spending all day drinking, shooting pumpkins, and doing crossword puzzles. I'm gonna go ahead and call it - Mobby is doomed. She tells him she has family in town, which I expect to turn into the inevitable oh no, this guy is a demon and now he knows Dean is there.

But I'm exactly wrong. Nick pulls up in the creepiest windowless van possible and asks the guy if he knows where Mary Winchester is. Because why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't Random Grocery Store Guy know where everyone in Hibbing Minnesota, population 16,361, resident or guest, lives? Random Grocery Store Guy pretends he doesn't know who she is. Good for him.

(BTW, the fastest route from Lebanon to Hibbing is about 12.5 hours. But it's all interstate and I suspect either Winchester would take the route that uses more state highways and is 13.5 hours.)

(Sidebar: Yes, when I open Mapquest, Lebanon is always in my Recents. Is that not normal?)

Apparently Nick decides he'll just cruise the greater Hibbing area and try to find her, because we seem him after nightfall driving his creepy van. A police car drives by, and then turns around and pulls him over. He makes sure his stolen angel blade is in place and hides a paperclip somewhere on his person before the officer gets to him. Oooh, it's Donna!

She cuffs him and tells him the van's been reported stolen, but she also reveals she knows he's looking for Mary, and don't like the way she lays all her cards on the table like that. Let him think you're just arresting him for a stolen car, Donna. Don't let him know you're onto his Grand Scheme. He says his name is "Nunya" and then "Eat Me" (oooh, is he related to the Eat Me Sam met a few seasons ago?), but she's got some kind of mobile fingerprint scanner. Does this thing exist? She discovers who he is, but while her back is turned, he uses his paperclip to get out of the cuffs. They fight, and she seems to have the upper hand, but he gets her taser and that's the end of that.

Love Shack. When Mary pulls up, Dean is outside by the door to the Shed of Mysterious Building. He lies about what he's doing out there and carries the groceries inside, to where the table is set and he wants to help her cook (THIS IS NOT OKAY) and she FINALLY realizes something is up. (Also, Dean, we know you're not a terrible cook. Don't lie just to make your mom feel better.) She quietly talks to Sam from upstairs (though not quietly enough, Dean totally would have heard her in the real world) and agrees that something is going on. Sam tells her about the missing items and says he thinks he should come up, but she says to give her more time. WHY, MARY. WHY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE THE PERSON TO ADDRESS THIS AND NOT SAM. WHY DO YOU INSIST ON KEEPING HIM 13.5 HOURS AWAY. WHY. It doesn't matter, because when Sam hangs up, we see he's already on his way. YES. THAT'S MY BOY.

Dinner. Dean tells a funny/tragic story about their childhood and Mary gets a case of The Sads, realizing how much she's missed and "how much the two of you just..." Just everything, Mary. They just EVERYTHING. Together. Without John, without you. AND STILL YOU THINK SAM SHOULD SIT IN THE BUNKER AND LET YOU HANDLE THIS. DAMMIT, MARY.

Anyway. Dean says her being alive has meant "everything to me, and everything to Sam." He claims to appreciate this wonderful time they're having, but he falters when he says "there's no clouds on the horizon." Because it's a LIE. She tells him he can talk to her about whatever he's going through, and he says "Everybody keeps asking me how I am. And how I am, is I don't want to talk about it. Please."

Oh lord, his face.

Later, as he snores gently on the couch, we see Mary tiptoe downstairs and outside, to check out what's happening in the Shed of Mysterious Building. (Sidebar: Dean sleeps with one arm flung behind his back, which I think we first saw in No Escape, and I always thought it was an odd and fake-looking way to sleep until I realized I actually do that sometimes myself.) She looks through the books and things and figures out what he's doing and it must be bad because she says "no, no, no." Meanwhile, Donna is waking up inside her own cruiser. I wonder why Nick left her alive?

Dean wakes up to the sound of a ringing phone. It's not his, it's Mary's. Donna is calling to warn him about Nick. But it's too late, because when Dean goes outside, Mary isn't there. But Sam is. "Hey, whoa, easy!" he says, facing down Dean's gun, and that tickles me for some reason.

Creepy van. Nick whines to Mary. He found email from Mary in Donna's phone, giving the address of the Love Shack. He thinks Mary knows where Abraxis is. She does - the demon is trapped inside an Enochian puzzle box in a storage locker, locately conveniently in or near Hibbing. I don't care about any of this.

At the Love Shack, Sam blames himself for Nick running around like a free madman, because of course he does. Donna's APB gets a result - the creepy van has been spotted outside Grand Rapids. Donna says that's 30-40 minutes away, but Grand Rapids is actually 11.5 hours away from Hibbing. Maybe there's a little town called Grand Rapids near Hibbing. A town so small that Mapquest doesn't even know about it.

(I KNOW. NO ONE CARES. MOVING ON.)

Nick gets the Enochian puzzle box (yeah, this scene goes on FOREVER and I'm skipping a lot here, is anyone complaining? nope didn't think so) and wants to release the demon so they can talk. Mary points out that the demon needs a host to talk, and it can't be Nick and it can't be her, and she flashes an anti-possession tattoo as explanation. So drills the box open and Nick forces the storage locker employee to be the host. Abraxis says he'll tell Nick why they killed his family if he kills Mary slow and bloody.

While this is happening, we see Sam and Dean on that 30 minute/11.5 hour drive to Grand Rapids. Sam looks despondent, and they have this conversation:

Say it. I can see you want to. Might as well go ahead and say it.

All right. Nick is not a project. He's not a freaking puppy. He was Lucifer's vessel for years.

I know that, Dean, I thought -

You thought he'd what, just walk it off? Come on, man, you're not that dumb.

It's not about being dumb, Dean, it's called compassion. Look, what happened to Nick could have happened to me. It almost happened to me. You change one little thing in our past and that WAS me! Lucifer wearing ME to the prom. Besides, since when do we give up on people? Since when do we just cut people loose?

Well, maybe you need to learn, okay? Because when people are past the point of saving, maybe you need to learn to walk away.

Ouch. I hurt for both of them. Poor Sam, seeing himself in Nick and wanting to save that guy the way he wishes someone had wanted to save him. Having faith in Nick's potential the way he wanted someone, anyone, to have faith in his own. And Dean obviously isn't talking about Nick, at least not there at the end, because we've heard it from Dean before, talking about himself. I can't be saved; walk away.

The guys arrive at the storage locker just in time to stop Nick from killing Mary slow and bloody. Nick scratches out the devil's trap that's holding the demon, and Abraxis immediately tosses them around and tells Nick he was chosen completely at random. Damn, Nick is as whiny as Lucifer was. (I wonder who influenced who? Discuss.)

Dean tries to quietly exorcise the demon, but Abraxis flings him against a shelf and we get a flash of skin. But before he can start killing anyone, Nick stabs him with the stolen angel blade. Then Nick acts like he's going to stab the others if they don't let him escape, so Donna shoots him in the leg. Dammit, Donna, this was the perfect opportunity to kill him. He already killed one person, and he was threatening to kill the rest of you. It would have been a clean shoot. Instead, Mary punches the wounded whiny baby and Sam does a wee little version of his glorious post-exertion huff.

Outside, Sam gives Nick a sad, confused look.

Why?

I needed the truth, Sam. I needed revenge for my family. You would have done the same thing.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, I'm sorry I didn't know how.

It's not about you, Sam. It was never about you. You couldn't fix me because I didn't want to be fixed. I was never broken.

Yeah, Nick, you are. I don't feel sorry for you, Nick. I feel sorry for the people you hurt, the people you murdered. The people whose faces will haunt you every night for the rest of your life. You can burn.

FUUUUUCK. That's cold as hell and it's not like Sam Winchester at all and I love it to pieces. He's finally given up on this asshole. But it's finally time to move away from the B plot, and Mary tells Dean she saw what he was building in the shed. She knows what he's building, she knows what he's planning, and the three of them ARE going to talk about it. And if he doesn't tell Sam, she will. So, you finally think Sam's input is important, Mary? Good to know.

When the sun rises, we're back at the Shed of Mysterious Building. Dean is showing Sam what he's done. He calls it something like a "maloch box," which I'm sure is spelled wrong. It looks like a giant coffin (yeah, about that...) Nothing can escape it, not even an archangel. Sam knows what they are but says they're impossible to build, and Dean's all, "not so much." And then they have this conversation and I'm sorry (no I'm not), but I had to transcribe the whole thing.

That's your plan? You want to be buried alive?

Buried's not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash.

You and Michael, trapped, together, for eternity.

Yeah.

You do realize how insane this is, right?

It's the only sane play I've got. Michael gets out, that's it for this world. And he will get out.

How do you know that for sure?

Because I do. Because I can feel him, in my head. That door is giving. I can feel it giving.

There has to be another way.

There's not, okay? There's... Sam, you've tried. Cas has tried. Jack. And I love you for trying, but none of it's going to work.

But we don't know that!

Yeah, we do.

What?

Billie. She paid me a little visit. She said that there's only one way that this ends right. And this is it. This, right here. This box. So she gave up the special recipe and all I had to do was the work. It's fate.

Since when do we believe in fate?

Now, Sam. Since now.

So, you came out here, to see Donna, to see Mom, on some what, some sick secret farewell tour? You were gonna leave, and you weren't even gonna tell me. Me. Do you realize how messed up that is? How unfair that is?

I didn't have a choice! Sam, you're the last person I could tell, the last person I could be around, cause you're the only one that could have talked me out of it! And I won't be talked out of it. I won't. I'm doing this. Now you can either let me do it alone, or you could help me. But I'm doing this.

...

All right.

Oh, guys.

Well, I've got to admit, Dean's prophesied horrifying death was a letdown. First, because it wasn't even new - it was basically the same fate Death offered him when he had the MoC. Worse, sure. Being locked in a box with an angry archangel rather than floating in space and having some kind of dream life, never a good option. (ASK SAM. HE KNOWS.) But mostly because it didn't live up to his reaction when he first read Billie's book. I was sure (and I wasn't alone) that his tearful reaction meant it was going to involve something horrible for someone he loves (SAM). But this? The Dean we know would have reacted the way he did when Rowena told him he had to "be the bomb" in order to destroy Amara. Yeah, this sucks, but I always knew it was gonna end ugly, so, whaddya gonna do?

(Sidebar: This brings up an interesting question. I know an angel's vessel is immortal, but would Dean still be immortal even though Michael was trapped inside his head? Would the fact that Michael wasn't in the driver's seat stop him from keeping his vessel alive? Or would the angel's grace do that all on its own?)

But oh, guys. This scene. THIS SCENE. These two. Dean saying I love you for trying. Dean at the beginning, chin up, so defiant, so defensive because this is exactly what he was afraid of - telling Sam, and having to stick to his plan. (He's probably remembering the last time Sam talked him out of this very thing, kneeling on the floor in front of him, agreeing to support the plan for Dean to lock himself up with the Mark of Cain forever, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes and nodding to accept that Dean has to cut his head off in order to prevent him from undoing that act; or maybe he's not actually remembering that but now I am, goddammit guys, I need a minute.) And Sam realizing that last little hug was Dean's last planned goodbye, and being so angry and so hurt, and the way he looks so young there at the end, when he stops and finally says "all right." I know we've seen this before but IT STILL GETS ME. EVERY DAMN TIME.

(Sidebar: Did Dean leave Sam a note? Is it in the bunker somewhere? Because Sam's last conversation with his father was the old man saying I don't know why we always fight, now go away and his last conversation with his brother would have been I want to go visit Mom without you. Discuss. Fanfic it. Come wail with me about it.)

(Also... Dean's farewell tour didn't include Cas? Jack? Jody?)

Well. Happy 40th birthday, Dean Winchester.

Worst. Birthday. Ever.

So, this episode? Too much Nick. Not enough Sam. Things that did not live up to expectations. But also, things that were wonderfully unexpected. I've seen worse, my friends. What did you think? And please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!