#sorry not to make everything about mustache again

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (3)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope

How to cure a grump (2)

Tonight, you don’t get much sleep. You toss and turn in your bed, knowing your boss, the man costing you your job and future, is sleeping right next door.

How dare he come here to demand shit from you after kicking you out two days before Christmas! Mr. Rogers knew about the password and PIN. He could’ve easily told your boss about it.

“Wait! That bastard!” You sit up on your bed and curse loudly. They are friends. Maybe this is some sick game they are playing. “I won’t be the butt of their jokes!”

When you get out of bed, you push your feet into the Santa Claus-themed slippers your mom got you for Christmas last year. 

Looking down at your body, you chuckle as the shoes look so different from the high heels you wore for work. They look like Santa's face. They have a white, fluffy beard and mustache. A red Santa hat sits atop each slipper.

“Fuck it,” you mutter and storm toward the door. If Barnes wants to mess with you, he’ll pay for it.

You storm into the guest room without knocking, immediately switching the light on.

“What?” Bucky looks at you like a deer in the headlight. He sits on the bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs. While you try not to stare at his abs, muscular arms, or the prominent bulge in his pants, he’s less subtle.

Bucky looks you up and down in your red and white Christmas-themed pajama set. “Are you often wearing onesies?” He snorts. Bucky never spent time with a woman wearing anything but silky nightgowns, or only a smile for bed.

You’re wearing a long-sleeved pajamas onesie style, featuring a fair isle pattern with elves, snowmen, and Christmas trees on a red background with white accents.

You huff. “I didn’t know you hold power over me in the bedroom too. It’s soft and plush, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. I want to know why you are here! Is this a trick? Do you and Rogers want to make fun of me?”

“Rogers must’ve forgotten you left the password,” Bucky grunts while wildly gesturing toward you. “I talked to him, and he didn’t mention it. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have come here to spend the night at a guestroom in the middle of nowhere instead of getting drunk on Barbados, two hot blondes in my arms.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Figures,” you huff. “I’ll call Walt. Maybe, he can help us get you to the airport so you can leave all the little ants working for you behind to spend an annual salary on your vacation!”

“Not my annual salary,” he dares to say. Bucky even smirks, and you lose your temper again. Right when he gets up from the bed to grab his pants, you jump into motion and tackle him to the ground. He yelps as you slap him across the face, once, twice, three times.

Bucky grabs your wrists in an attempt to stop you from hurting him.

“Munchkin is everything—” Your mother chuckles as she watches you sit on top of Bucky. “Oh, kids, I’m sorry. If only I knew you’re celebrating your reunion!” She closes the door behind her, leaving you and Bucky to your fight.

“Tomorrow morning you are gone, bastard,” you growl. “Now let go of me before I castrate you.”

He smirks. “Your mom believed we were having sex. Did you keep her awake often while you were still living here?”

“Says the man whore,” you wiggle in his grip, snarling as he won’t let go. “I’m not the one with an endless stream of women leaving my bedroom.”

“Not only my bedroom.” He still smirks when he finally releases your wrists.

You hurriedly get up and glare at him.

“I don’t care. In the morning, you’ll find a way to get out of my house, and my town. Use your money for something useful for once. And don’t contact me again! You are dead to me”

Slamming the door shut behind you, you huff. How can women fall for your asshole boss? You can’t believe they only see his pretty façade.

“Morning, lovebirds,” your mother chirps as you make your way into the kitchen. She’s humming Last Christmas while you are in a sour mood. Bucky Barnes has this effect on you. “Oh, where’s James?”

You take a deep breath, ready to tell your mother the truth. This is a serious case of mistaken identity. “Mom, uh—do you remember that I told you my boyfriend broke things up with me some time ago?”

“Of course, Munchkin,” she coos while flipping a pancake. “I’m all for second chances, Y/N. Maybe he finally realized how much you mean to him. But—” She points a knife in Bucky’s direction the moment he steps into the kitchen. “If he messes up again, I’ll castrate him!”

“Like mother, like daughter,” Bucky grumbles as he steps further into the room. “Good morning. Please don’t start the new day by castrating me.” He flashes your mom a stunning smile, earning a giggle.

“Oh, I was joking, James,” she says and goes back to preparing breakfast for a whole football team. “What do you like for breakfast? We have waffles, pancakes, bacon, and eggs, or French toast.”

“I usually only eat egg white.” Bucky pats his stomach, rubbing it. “I try to stay fit.”

“For the ladies,” you sarcastically say. “Mom, he won’t stay for breakfast. James will leave now and try to get a flight back to New York.”

“What? No! He must stay for breakfast,” she sniffles and uses her powerful puppy dog look to make your resolve to kick your former boss out crumble. “What about the Christmas dinner? I already planned everything. I was awake all night!”

“Mom,” you sigh. “He needs to take care of business.” It’s not a complete lie. Bucky wants to take care of a few things back in New York. “Do you think we can make it to the airport?”

“No,” she pouts before taking a large bite from one of the waffles. You watch her chew slowly before speaking again. “The streets aren’t the only problem. Maybe we could make it to the airport with your dad’s old truck, but the airport is closed.”

“I got a private jet,” Bucky throws in, earning an angry look from you. Of course, that rich bastard has a private jet.

“James, no plane will take off today, or for the next days. Not even a private jet,” your mother points out. “If you’d excuse me now, I must pick up a few things for Christmas.”

“Mom, what about the snow?” You hate to see her sad face. “Do you want me to get what you need? I was always the better driver.”

“Your dad was the best driver—” She stiffens, and you can see grief flash up in her eyes. No matter how long he’s gone, she’ll always miss your dad. “He taught me everything.”

“I know,” you murmur and hold out your hand to squeeze hers tightly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah.” She nods while struggling to hold back a sob. “I forgot to add a few things to my Christmas list. The streets should be free for now. We should hurry before more snow will keep us from leaving.”

Much to your dismay, Bucky decided to join you on your shopping tour. His pilot told him there was not a chance to get back to New York anytime soon. Now he needs a place to stay over the holidays and boots. It’s too damn cold to wear slippers.

“Over there you can buy boots,” you say, and point at the only shop in town selling warm boots. “I’ll get the things on the list, Mom. You can wait here.”

“Alright, Munchkin,” your mom says while watching Bucky look at you, brows furrowed. He dips his head to watch you storm off. “Don’t take it to heart, James. Christmas was always hard for Y/N since her dad passed away, and John left her for some other girl.”

“John, huh?” Bucky asks as you are busy buying everything your mom has on her list. “What happened?”

“It’s not my place to tell you, James. All I can say is that they wanted to marry the next spring and John decided to cheat.” She huffs. “Y/N moved across the county to get away from him, their business, and the girl he chose over her.”

“Their business?” Bucky presses on. “What kind of business?”

“Oh, nothing special. They—” Your mother gasps loudly as John steps toward you at your aunt’s bakery. “No, no! This will ruin Christmas for Y/N!”

“What?” Bucky follows your mother’s eyes, seeing you stiffen as John stands in front of you to chat you up. “That him?”

“Yes, I must stop him from hurting her!”

“Leave this to me.” Your mother smirks when Bucky enters the bakery. She even chuckles as John’s fiancé watches your former boss walk toward you.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t know what came over him until he shoves John out of his way to cup your face and kiss you fiercely.

You whimper against Bucky's warm and plump lips. It's been a while since someone kissed you, and this kiss is on top of your list.

“Dude, excuse me! We were talking,” John grunts as Bucky and you part. You stare at Bucky, unsure what to do. “Hey! This is not the place to make out!”

“What?” Bucky turns around to smirk at John. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was missing my fiancé, is all.”

“Fiancé?” John hiccups as you are too stunned to react. What just happened? Why did your former boss kiss you? Why is John here?

“Yes, fiancé. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped distracting her. Her mom is waiting outside, and it’s damn cold. We don’t want this lovely lady to get sick, don’t we.”

“Sure, sure,” John awkwardly stammers. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N. Have a good Christmas.” John and the woman he chose over you leave the bakery in a hurry.

You’re still shell-shocked and just watch them leave. What else can you do? If you slap Bucky’s face now, John knows this was all just play pretend.

Meanwhile, your mother stands outside the bakery, smiling to herself as Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

More tags in reblog.

How to cure a grump@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy, @pattiemac1, @formulas-bitch, @winchestert101, @greatmistakes, @mrsnikstan, @jokersqueenofchaos

[thehotpilot]

evan buckley with a little stubble evan buckley with that lil shadow of a mustache rb if u agree

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Love After War

♪ please forgive me, baby…..don't you love it when we fight?♪

✩ logan 'wolverine’ howlett x mutant!fem reader

✩ tags: a little angst, cursing, mentions of blood, makeup sex, degrading, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, squirting, clawing kink (don’t judge me), mentions of breeding, face sitting, sadism, etc….

✩ note: had deadpool 3 wolverine in mind when making this, i love older men. listen to the song for added vibes

you slammed your glass down on the bar top, cracking it, causing your friends and him to look over at you. you could feel his deep brown eyes scan your face, and you quickly met them; eyes holding nothing but anger.

“uh oh, looks like someone’s on their period! anyone have a tampon?” wade joked, hoping to ease some tension, but you weren’t in the mood for him, not now.

“shut the fuck up wade!” there was silence but everyone’s face said it all. it was unlike you to curse and yell at wade, usually you would joke with him or egg him on; but tonight was different. you were pissed. pissed at logan.

you turned to look at the male, whom downed his shot of whiskey like it was water.

“how can you sit here, celebrating like you didn’t just try to sacrifice yourself and leave me behind?” your voice cracked at the end, making his hazel eyes widened. it had dawned on him that he had hurt you, he was going to sacrifice himself to save this universe; which would ultimately leavethe only person who cared about him all alone to reap in their sorrows.

he said nothing and got up from his bar stool, digging into his suit and throwing out a wad of cash on the mahogany counter top; before reaching over to grab your hand—leading you out of the bar.

“taking you home.” he muttered, pushing the bar’s wooden door open which slammed behind the both of you. wade was the first one to turn and speak, “oh those two are about to fuck hard!”

using his claws to unlock a random car, the two of you hopped in; with him in the driver seat and you in the passenger—silence simmering between the two of you. there was nothing more for you to say, you said everything, now the cards were on his lap.

on the way up to your apartment, you gave him the cold shoulder—your back towards him and he to notice to it. he couldn’t help his honey colored eyes from dropping down to your plump ass; loving the way the leather clung to your body. he watched your ass sway and switch with each stride you took as the two of you entered your apartment.

you kicked off your shoes and turned to look at him, still pissed off. how could he not say anything? didn’t he love you?

“so you’re just going to stand there? and—“ you were cut off as the mutant pressed his lips against your’s; the scruffiness of his mustache scratching your top lip while his musky scent flooded your nose, making you melt into the kiss. he held the back of your head, holding you while your body started to get weak—his tongue dominating yours once he slipped it in. the taste of the whiskey he downed minutes ago, warmed up your mouth.

and when he pulled away, you were breathless, “im sorry, I wasn’t considering how you felt in that moment—“ you held a finger up to his lip, silencing him. you were angry, that was a fact, but the way he just kissed you; had you feeling another emotion—one that surpassed the anger.

“you’re about to make it up to me, right now.” you slowly stripped in front of him, your eyes glued to his as you stepped out of your suit—tossing it somewhere across the room—before you reached behind you to undo your bra.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to put his hands all over you, have you say his name over and over again; he had to fuck you. logan sauntered over to you and pulled you into another kiss, this one more rougher than the last. in an instant he had you hoisted up into the air, your legs wrapped around his waist as he led you over to your black plush couch—siting down while you straddled him.

his huge calloused hands trailed all over you body, running up and down your smooth back; before finally resting on your ass. you could feel hard he was underneath his suit and that’s when you realized he was still clothed. you were beyond impatient and he knew it, he could smell how bad you wanted him; so he was going to give you exactly what you needed.

he held onto you as he laid down on your couch, pulling you by your hips, onto his face—he used his teeth to tear your panties aside; giving him full access to your needy cunt. you let out moan as he lapped up your juices, savoring your delectable flavor like he was a dog who had just gotten some water.

his mustache tickled your clit in the right way, mraking you slowly grind your hips against his face while you hands clutched your tender breasts. his tongue worked in overdrive, swirling your swollen bud against it; before he began to suck on it. your hands dropped from your breasts and onto his soft brown locks; gripping it tightly while your rode his face.

“fuck….gonna—shit—logan!” you exclaimed, orgasm hitting you hard while he continued to eat you out. your body was hot and your legs tightened around his head, before loosening as he pulled you off of his face. he gripped your neck and smashed his lips onto yours, your tongue immediately falling into his mouth—your juices sweet on your tongue.

using your powers you ripped off his yellow and blue hero suit, unable to take it any longer. you needed him inside you now.

“please lo….fuck me hard~” you begged, hand immediately griping his fat leaky tip—causing the older male to suck in some air. he was quick, pulling you onto his lap and pushing his leaky head to your sodden entrance; stretching you out to fit his cock and his cock only.

you grip his shoulders, bracing yourself as pushed himself all the way inside of you. “logan…!” you whined, eyes fluttering shut once he filled you up; slowly rocking his hips to get you used to his size. he gritted his teeth and kept one hand on the top of your ass; keeping you in place.

“you can take it, right doll?” his words made your cunt flutter and you nodded your head, moving your hips to match his rhythm—which made his dick rub against your spot. he was so big and the more you moved, the more you were getting addicted to him. his scent, the way he would grunt from time to time and how perfect he fit inside you—everything about this man drove you insane. no wonder you fell in love with him.

you were coming undone by the second and it was driving logan feral. he watched as your movements became faster, your noises becoming louder and you throwing your head back—it fueled him, he needed to break you. logan pushed your back down, making your torso meet his chest—closing the space between the two of you—before he proceeded to slide down and bringing his hips upwards, to pound you.

your eyes shot open from the impact and as you opened your mouth to speak, only whines came out. this is exactly what you wanted—no this is what you needed. you couldn’t help, but to bring your head up and kiss him. after all, he was fucking you so good.

“that’s it….take it like the slut that you are~” he praised once you pulled away, his hips still pistoning ferociously in and out of your cunt. everything about this was nasty, the sounds you and your bodies were making and how he was fucking you—had you cumming for the second time tonight.

“that’s my girl. cum all over it,” his voice deep in your ear while your orgasm shot through you. you felt like you were reaching nirvana and you were loving it.

logan slowed down his stroke, giving you a moment to calm down, however it gave you the opportunity to take control. you sat up and gripped his hair in a tight fist, catching him by surprise before you repeatedly moved your lower half up and down on his hard cock. due to the pain he received, his claws unsheathed, and it made you even wetter as an idea popped up into your nasty little head.

“fuck!” he growled, watching as you moved like a bunny, taking every single inch he had. “put them inside of me, lo~” you moaned, tugging on his hair and keeping eye contact with him.

he rose an eyebrow and chuckled, “not gonna happen, bub.” you whined and pulled on his hair some more, slowing down your movements as well.

“please…you know i deserve it—shit, im a big girl. i can take it” he stared at you with low lidded eyes, loving how sexy you looked on top of him. the way your body glistened with sweat and illuminated from the moonlight that shone through your apartment’s window; helped him realize something. he was a fool for trying to sacrifice himself and leave you all alone.

“alright, princess. you can take it, right?.” he didn’t hesitate to stick his claws into yours sides, causing you to gasp and pull his hair some more. it felt like you were being pierced with fire and you could feel the blood trickle out of you. but, you weren’t worried not bit. you were a mutant after all, your regeneration factor kicked in seconds after.

you looked down at him and smiled, a euphoric feeling taking over your body—you were going to cum once more; draining him in the process. he couldn’t help but chuckle, “crazy bitch.”

he kept his claws in place while you grinding your hips in steady pace, making him rub against that soft spongy spot. you were cumming, the stimulation from his cock and his claws were going to make you cum—hard.

“cumming! cumming so hard for you~” you whined, ass clapping against his pelvis while you started to bounce. logan grunted and pushed his hips upwards, halting your movements as you came—a clear stream of liquid shot out of you; shocking him.

“did you just squirt, princess?” his voice was panty wetting deep when he spoke and you let out a moan in response. he stuck his claws in deeper and began to pound you you, catching you off guard and making you scream. he closed his beautiful eyes and let out a primal growl, emptying his load into you with a few more pumps. the two of you stayed like that, his cock twitching while he panted your walls milky white.

he opened his eyes and pressed his lips against yours, your lips intwining with one another, before he parted.

“god I love it when we fight. im never leaving you, i promise doll.”

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[dc418writes]

Welcomed Distraction

Summary🪄: Both you and Frankie need comforting after a tough day

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, happy adult fun times (be safe out there!), breeding kink, unprotected p-in-v, language, unclothed female-semi clothed male, mention of pregnancy/trying for baby

A/N🎤: Hello🌸 long time no see (*ahem sorry🥴) lol. So firstly, this is my very first Pedro boy fic and I’m v nervous (then again when am I not 🙃). Also, this is my submission for the #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel and I’m hoping you guys enjoy what I came up with, as well as read the other works (or even submit something yourself!✨)

*DISCLAIMER(S)!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they all were found via Pinterest. Although my works are typically imagined with a black!reader, everyone is welcome to read*

At the sound of your sigh as you locked the door behind you, Frankie knew what kind of day you had. Not to mention the way you took off your shoes.

If you gently toed them off next to the others, taking your sweet time, you were exhausted and would more than likely crash on the couch once you eventually sat down. Left them scattered making your own little trail from the door? You were excited about something. He was man enough to admit that although he knew you were very happy to see him, - flashing your bright smile before pecking his lips and updating him on what your day entailed - that excitement was mostly for his son. “How was your day huh?,” you’d ask the adorable eight month old making him giggle from all the kisses you’d leave on his juicy cheeks. “I missed you!”

When you’d kick off your shoes though, not caring when they’d knock against the wall - like you did tonight - you were pissed. And Frankie just hoped it wasn’t something he’d done or forgotten to do.

“Everything alright?,” he asks over his shoulder while he mutes the football game currently on tv.

“I secretly hope that place burns down overnight so I won’t have to step foot in it ever again.”

“So no,” Frankie states as you finally make it to the couch with a beer in hand. A much needed smile curls along your lips - and in turn loosens a bit of the tension still plaguing you from earlier - noticing the boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant on the coffee table in front of him. Before you can say anything, his strong hands are gripping your hips guiding you towards his lap. Both sets of your lips automatically being drawn towards each other as you settle in your favorite seat.

Well second favorite.

“Francisco Morales I’d marry you right now if I could.” He only chuckles leaving a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, first it started with a couple calls from patients upset they needed to be seen before getting a refill. Like I’m sorry you haven’t shown up for your appointments in two years!” A grin spreads on his pink lips as he gently shakes his head of envy inducing chocolate curls.

“Then for a while now I’ve been getting calls when the phones are supposed to be on downtime. It’s also happened to the lady that sits next to me a couple times, so she decides to say something. My manager just says ‘well if you’ve given your extension out or if it’s transferred to you, then the phone’s gonna ring’.”

“But if the phones are down in the first place, either way that shouldn’t happen,” your boyfriend finishes practically reading your mind.

“Exactly! But nooo it has to be something I’m doing, it can’t be the shitty phone system.” Frankie knows you’re angry - and reasonably so- but he can’t help the way his stomach flutters at your cute little groan. How he wants to kiss that pout away until you can’t remember why you were mad in the first place. “Maybe he’ll listen to you since you have a penis.”

“Just tell me when and I’m there baby,” he murmurs against your neck trailing kisses from your pulse to your jaw. His mustache prickling your skin and making you softly giggle.

Even if you didn’t say, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a little visit to the clinic within the coming week. Standard manners and gentle smile to everyone else as if he was just innocently coming by to see his girl when you both knew he was liable to strangle the slender, uptight man once he set his eyes on him at the mere mention of making you upset.

“Then, as the cherry on top, the last call I get today is this guy getting mad at me because his results aren’t ready, which I have no control over since I don’t work with that doctor,” you explain taking a quick pull from the sweating bottle in your hand. “I keep trying to tell him there’s nothing I can really do, but then he has the audacity to say ‘You’re not understanding me. I need this for another appointment and now I’m not sure if I’ll make it!’ Sir I understand fine; don’t insult my intelligence. Still won’t get you your results sooner.”

The stranger’s words and harsh tone repeats in your mind only making you upset all over again. And not only could Frankie see it, but he could feel the effect such a short interaction had on you. Your back practically going rigid with tightness and prompting him to rub soothing circles over your shirt trying to relax the muscles there. That vein near the pulse in your neck on full display as if standing in solidarity with you.

A stream of frustrated air leaves your nostrils trying to remind yourself that everything was in the past now. How tomorrow would be a new day with, hopefully, little to no rude patients. “Sorry, I know that’s probably my ego talking-,”

“Still doesn’t give him, or anybody else, the right to talk to you like that.” So two men he now needed to hunt down. No problem. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

You simply shrug - your attempt to brush it off feeling like you need to be strong and just forget - as his lips softly press against your temple. “Comes with the territory. How was your day though? Hopefully better than mine.”

“It was alright. Elaine came by with ‘hot shot’ to get Isaiah.” Hot shot being her new fiancé that was some fancy lawyer based out of Los Angeles. They met a few months after she broke up with Frankie and got engaged not long after.

“And how did that go?”

Now was Frankie’s turn to shrug taking the offered beer from your hand to get a pull. “Fine. Said hello, made sure she had everything, then left a few minutes later. Short and sweet.”

Although they’ve had this arrangement since baby Isaiah was just a couple months old, it always hurt Frankie having to let his son go. The apartment was uncomfortably quieter without the little babbles and gurgles, and no longer felt like home. Given he’d see him again next week, but he’d began to worry if his ex would move away now she was engaged. Wanting to start fresh with the ‘man of her dreams’ and start their own family.

And if that happened, who knows when he’d see his son again.

The thought’s kept him up plenty of nights unknown to you, but his solemn mood is easily read looking into his brown eyes. Your palm caresses his cheek bringing his attention back to you on his lap. Thumb softly tracing over the worry line between his brows before leaning in to tap your nose against his. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your boyfriend just nods flashing a glimpse of a soft smile. A quiet, “I know,” falling from his lips after pecking your full, bottom one.

“If it’d make you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

Any time you said that in the past, he’d just chuckle and shake his head. Maybe even click his tongue before he’d reply with, “let’s focus on this one for now.” It’s not that you were trying to give him a replacement kid, you just hated to see him sad. And similar to how Frankie was willing to do anything for you, you were easily as smitten for the former military pilot.

His larger hands - slightly rough from years of work - grip your hips gently moving you so your thighs now straddle his hips. A glint in his darkening eyes that surprises you, but also has a familiar sensation building between your legs. “You mean it?”

The husky way he whispers near your mouth has an embarrassing moan slipping past your lips that even catches you off guard. A wet patch growing in your panties already as you nod nearly dumb just from his voice alone.

His lips crash into yours rhythmically moving together as if one was complimenting the other. Your fingers tangle in his silky strands while his tongue glides over yours and hands knead at your lower cheeks. You can’t help but grind and shift trying to find some sort of friction as your core throbs incessantly.

“Frankie please,” you pant. His mouth descends to your heated neck nipping at your skin while his hand moves to toy with your achy nipple through your top.

“Have to tell me what you want baby.” He sounds nearly gone himself - hardness poking you through his jeans - but he chooses to tease instead. Any other time you might play back with a smart reply, maybe a little edging, but tonight your need is too strong and mind too hazy with lust and the man beneath you for games.

“N-Need you in me..now Frankie.”

A deep groan vibrates in his chest when you bump against the now prominent bulge becoming painful from the quick rush of blood. “Can’t say no to that now can I?”

In a flurry of movements, Frankie’s removing your scrubs and underwear between deep, hurried kisses, and soon you’re bare; quickly unlatching his buckle to remove his stiff and reddened member leaking and more than ready for you. The mess between your thighs makes it easy to slide down, taking him inch by inch until you’re both connected and moaning from the tightness.

“Fuck don’t think I’ll last,” Frankie grits shifting to taste one breast while his hand plucks and squeezes the other making you whimper. “Feels so good baby.”

Adjusted enough, your hips begin to move and bounce filling the living room with slaps of skin and moans. You try to contain yourself - worried about being that couple - but when Frankie plants his feet on the plush carpet below bucking up into you so hard you have to grab the armrest while your other hand grabs his broad shoulder, you can’t control what leaves your mouth.

“Wanna give me a baby huh? Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want everybody to know you’re mine?” His grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the morning. “That I’m the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“Yes!” The faster you both move, you can see and feel stars. Feel hundreds, maybe thousands, of them tickle and prick your skin that have you believing you have to be experiencing something other worldly. Your spirit ascending to some sort of nirvana that you’d never want to come down from.

“Shit - might have to just keep you on my cock. You like that idea?,” he grins biting at your earlobe.

You frantically nod. “D-Don’t stop, please baby! Mm there..Frankie..Frankie!”

Gripping the back of your neck bringing you as close as he can, Frankie buries his face in your neck letting your noises and babbling spur him on. You’re both painfully close - panting and sticky with sweat - just needing that extra push only you could give each other.

“Shit, feel you squeezin’ me. Cmon let go I got you.” Shifting to the edge of the couch, he angles just right where your swollen nub gets the nudge and pressure that has your back arching and toes curling. You feel teeth and curses growled against your neck along with the spurts of his release inside you as his pumps become staggered and slower.

All that can be heard now is you both catching your breaths and holding onto each other as if afraid to somehow float away from the post orgasmic high.

“You okay? Still with me?,” Frankie asks tracing his thick fingers up and down your spine. You merely hum in response making the man you love chuckle. His pride loved how sleepy and clingy you got in the midst of your afterglow.

“Alright let’s get you cleaned up.”

His strong arms easily keep you attached to his sturdy chest as he stands ready to take you to the bathroom. Your nose automatically nuzzling and running along the side of his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat. “Wait!”

He halts just before stepping into the hall. “What’s wrong?”

“The food,” you sleepily reply making him grin kissing your shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“M’kay,” you yawn comfortably closing your eyes as you’re gently rocked from him beginning to move again. “Have a baby.”

He knew it wouldn’t happen that quickly, especially with you still actively on birth control, but the thought of you carrying his child had a warmth spreading along his bones. He could vividly see you with a hand on your extended belly smiling and glowing like the sweetest angel. Isaiah would nearly be two, but walking around keeping a close eye on his sibling.

Did it also make Frankie nervous? Of course, but he couldn’t lie that his excitement of seeing a bright eyed bundle that looked exactly like you outweighed the fear.

“Yea, we’re having a baby.”

-

Loosely inspired by the rough day I had at work some time ago🥲 lol. But again I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if I missed any warnings!

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Babyyyy!!!! 🎶🎵 I like your styleeee ✨🎶🎵

Girly girl, since Pedri decided to honor his words and cut his hair, grow a mustache and ruined his beautiful curls. I'm going to need you to make me a fic about it, pronto.

Love you, bye 😀❤️🥺🙏🏻

His hair it's slowly growing back🥹 and thank god he got the rid out of the moustache🤭 this is a bit old and I'm sorry for the wait, dear.

AN: I'm in a bit of a hiatus from writing, my fics will come once in a while until I hopefully can get back into full writing

What Did You Do? -P.G8

Summary: Getting home to find the surprise your boyfriend has for you

"Amor? I'm home!" You called out taking off your shoes, you closed your eyes softly feeling the weight of the day and wanting nothing more than being in your boyfriend's arms as you play with his hair.

"In the kitchen, preciosa!"

Walking towards the sound of his voice, you saw him with his back to you as he listened to the indications someone was giving him.

"Hey" You hugged his back softly before leaving a kiss on his shoulder and walking to be in front of him "Is that Fer? Tell him I said-what the fuck?" Your hands covered half of your face.

Pedri let out a wide grin "You want me to tell him that?"

"Pedro Gonzalez Lopez! What the fuck did you do?" You gasped "Why the hell do you have a moustache? And what the hell happened to your gorgeous hair? Why is it like that? Why are you almost bald? What is going on?" You heard laughter coming from your boyfriend and his phone where someone, most likely his brother, had heard every single thing you said.

"Remember when I told you that I made a promise if Spain wins the Euros?" you hum still looking shocked "Well... We won and this is it" He says noticing your quiet but powerful gaze "What do you think?"

"No, absolutely not" You shook your head "You're kidding"

"I'm not! I'm a man of word, if I promise something I'll do it"

"Ay señor Jesucristo" (Oh, Lord Jesus Christ) "Where's your hair?"

"In the bin. Why?"

"Can't we just... glue it back?" Fer exploded in laughter, you could see on the screen he was red and close to tears

"Y/N!"

"What?"

"It'll grow back!"

"Yes, we need to get you some oils so it can grow faster"

"I told you she wouldn't like it, mano" Fer said

"Is it really bad? You don't like it?" Pedri's sad face made your heart break and you sighed searching for the right words.

"It's not that I don't like it... Es que pienso que así te ves como un señor" (It's just that I think that you look like an old man) You reply instantly making Fer laugh once again and Pedri gave you a look "Como un señor de 40" (Like a 40 year-old man)

"I can't. I'm going to pee myself" Fer said "See you guys!" You waved goodbye to Fer and after the call ended you turned around to face Pedri.

"Un señor muy guapo pero de igual forma, un señor" (A very handsome but still an old man)

"Bonita" He said

"I'm not lying! I admit it's not my favorite look on you but I do think you look handsome either way!" You went over to hug him, you felt his arms wrap around your back "But we do need to get all types of oil, shampoo... Everything" He nods

"Whatever you say, preciosa"

"And here I was, wanting to love you and to play with your hair to relax after my day"

"You can still do it" You touched his hair feeling it, you made a face "It's scratchy" You look at him "Why couldn't you promise to dye your hair, huh?"

"Bah, amor. That's lame, everybody decides to do it" you gave him a look

"It's worst cutting off your hair!" You cry out "And mostly when you also decide to also do a moustache"

"Relax and gimme a kiss, my hair will grow back soon"

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to kiss you with the moustache"

"What?"

"I'm not kissing you until you get the rid off your moustache!"

"Why not?"

"I don't want to kiss a 40 year-old man!"

"I'm 21!"

"You aren't with that moustache!"

"But I need to have this for a few days!"

"Don't expect a kiss from me in the next few days!" You said getting out of his hold

"Amor, you can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. You did that" You point to his hair and moustache "I do this"

"Noup. Not happening" He rushed upstairs leaving the stove with the food done

"Hey, is the food ready?"

"I don't know, please check!"

"I want to take a shower, pepi!"

"And I'm getting the rid out of this moustache. Can't have my girl not kissing me!" You smiled and shook your head.

You turned to the stove and took care of the pasta, Pedri was doing. You felt a ding on your phone so you put it out.

Want to keep adding to your shopping cart? Check out the new hygiene and household products!

"Oh! Yes, totally. I need hair products for my boyfriend, this is a need now"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Spellbook Swap

I've always wondered how couples stay together so long. My husband, Derek, and I had been married for 3 years now and while we get along great and support each other through everything, the sex had been pretty stale for awhile. Half the time he's not really in the mood and when he is, we usually just jerk off next to each other. I was getting tired of it and craved something more. But Derek was still so cute, him being a socially awkward nerd, and I was scared to tell him how I feel because he might cry.

That afternoon, I was on my way to pick him up from work. We only had one car, but since both our jobs typically had the same shift, I always headed over to pick him up at his job at the library. I didn't actually have work today so I went a little earlier to look at some books. When I arrived, Derek noticed me and smiled real big.

“Hey! You're early!”

“Yeah, thought I'd browse a bit.”

“Ah ok. I just organized it all so you get to see my work!” He smiled again and continued helping customers in line.

I browsed through my favorite genre - fantasy. I always loved ones that involved magic, spells, and amazing worlds. I noticed one book that kinda stuck out a bit amongst the shelf. It was some kind of spellbook with a brown leather cover, and had a bit of dust on it, which seemed strange because the rest of the shelf was perfectly clean. I opened it up and found that it was indeed a spellbook. I wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but I did believe there was some kind of magical force out there that could do incredible things.

I flipped through the table of contents and noticed there was a category called “relationships”. I turned the pages to the section and saw a bunch of spells - ones to make someone fall in love with you, ones to get promoted at work, ones to impress your family, things like that. I was about to close the book when I found one page - how to spice up your sex life. That was just what I needed! Even if it didn't work, it couldn't hurt to try.

I walked over to the counter right as another guy started talking to Derek. He was a real muscular guy wearing a white shirt and tan hat. His pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination with the way they were tight fitting around his ass. A mustache covered his thick face, which complemented his bright green eyes. He was carrying a tote bag.

“Hey can I help you?” He greeted the man with an eager attitude. “Need a book recommendation or anything?”

“Oh no I don't read.” The man spoke with a deep manly voice. “I mean, who has time to when you could be working out?” I could see the rare irritated look on Derek's face.

“Then…what do you need from the library?” He replied, much less eager than before.

“Just dropping off some books for the wife. We're going on vacation and they’re due tomorrow.” He took a couple books out of the tote bag.

“Allright. I can take them.” The man handed him the books and immediately turned around and left. Derek's smile returned when he saw me with a book in my hand.

“Hey! What'd you get?”

“It's a book of spells.”

“Of spells? Like real ones?”

“No way,” I laughed. “Just some dumb thing. Looks fun to read though.”

“Allright. Gotcha.” He checked me out and I sat down, waiting for him to finish the rest of the closing.

That evening after dinner I tried to seduce him but he wasn't having it once again.

“Sorry, work has me so exhausted you know?” I wish that I wanted to, but…well I just don't want to. Sorry.” I stood there defeated.

“Ok.” I let out an emotionless reply. As Derek brushed his teeth and got ready to head into bed, I flipped through the pages of the spellbook. I found the “spice up your sex life” spell and read the instructions. I needed to recite the incantation while looking at a picture of the two of us. I took out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery until I found the perfect picture. Then I started to recite the spell. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. At that point I was mad at him and now mad at the spellbook for wasting my time, so I headed into the bedroom. There I found Derek waiting for me.

“Hey…look I'm sorry. How about tomorrow morning we have some fun? I promise I'll go through with it!” Maybe the spell did work afterall! We both had a day off tomorrow so that was perfect. I was so excited that I could barely sleep.

The next morning I woke up to Derek nudging me awake. Excitedly, I turned over. But to my surprise, it wasn't him smiling at me, but a hairy guy with a mustache. He was giving me a sexy smile.

“Hey…you ready?” He gave me a look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. I didn't even know what to say but I was so confused that there was total stranger in my bed, so I had to say something.

“Who are…you?” He frowned beneath his mustache.

“What do you mean? Oh no, am I having an allergic reaction somehow? That would explain my voice and why my eyesight is blurry even with my glasses on. It's me though! My face must be so puffy…oh god."

”Holy fuck. It's Derek! But this was far beyond an allergic reaction. He's an entirely different person! He pushed the covers off and was about to get out of bed, probably to take a look at himself in the mirror, when he glanced down at his body. This was definitely not normal. He was muscular, tan, and hairy - a stark contrast to what he normally looked like. He made a terrified face, which was a strange sight on such a macho guy.

“What? What's happening? I-I…” He looked at me with worry in his eyes, and it was then that I realized WHY this was happening. It must've been the spell. I guess turning your boyfriend into a muscle hunk would definitely spice up our sex lives. But I couldn't leave him in the dark.

“I-I,” I started. “It was my fault. That spellbook I got, I used it on you. I didn't expect this though!”

It was then that I realized WHO he was. That guy we saw at the library yesterday. He somehow swapped bodies with him!

“What? What spell was it?”

“Spice up your sex life. I just…was getting bored. And you were never in the mood.”

“Oh…but it turned me into this?” He then rushed to the bathroom. I followed. He immediately recognized himself as soon as he looked into the mirror.

“Hey! I'm that guy from yesterday!? Why did it turn me into him?”

“I-I don't know! Maybe it picked someone from a recent memory?”

He gazed at himself in the mirror with an open mouth, and touched all around his face, pinching and feeling his mustache.He gazed down and admired his new muscles, feeling all around his pecs and the chest hair growing from them. He then turned around and stared at the mirror again, this time making a variety of expressions.

“What am I supposed to do? I can't stay like this!”

“I don't know! There must be something about a reverse spell in the book.” Flipping through the book, I once again found the page I needed. I read every word but didn't find anything about a reverse spell. Could he be stuck like this?

“Maybe if we see like a professional?”

“What, like a fortune teller witch lady or whatever?”

“Exactly.”

“Well. I do remember seeing something like that close to town. A psychic. Maybe they can help?”

“We could try.” I looked up fortune tellers and found Madam Cleo - Psychic. It was a short drive away. I was hoping we would find our answers there.

“I got it.”

“One problem,” Derek said doubtfully.

“What?” He stared down at himself and then answered.

“I don't think anything will fit me now…” I couldn't help but laugh out loud.“I think we can find something at least.”

We dug through the closet and eventually found the Lakers jersey that my uncle gifted me a few years back. I wasn't even into basketball and it was a few sizes too big, but at least it helped us in the end! Derek slipped it on and gazed at himself in the mirror. It fit pretty nicely.

“Not really my style…but it'll do for now.” He put his finger on his chin and then rubbed his head. He froze when he grazed the back of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I'm…balding.” He turned around and tilted his head up to show me. He definitely had a bad case of male pattern baldness. I thought it was pretty hot, but he looked terrified.

“Hmm…well. That's something we can just fix with a hat. I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one of my hats, and put it on his head. It completed the look well.

“I guess this'll work. Maybe.” I laughed again.

“You'll be fine.”

We got to the car, Derek struggling a bit to fit in the passenger seat with his new frame, and headed over to the fortune teller. It was a warehouse-like building, although much smaller. As we were about to walk in, someone else walked out. He was a young looking guy around my age, but at least 200 lbs heavier. He looked like he made absolutely no effort to control his weight.

“Hey! That lady is awesome!” He said excitedly. “She told my fortune and said that I would lose weight very soon! I can't wait!” He then ran off, his gross looking belly jiggling up and down, and drove away.

I kinda felt bad for people like that, that actually believe that sort of thing…what am I saying? We're the ones going to a fortune teller for help. I just really hoped she was legit then.

We walked in and found that the interior was nicely decorated, completely different from the outside. Shiny wooden floors, a chandelier, and LED lights hanging from the walls. All of that surrounded a crystal ball in the center. Within a few seconds a woman dressed in a typical fortune teller outfit appeared from a curtain in the back.

“What does the future hold for you two today? Let's find out,” she said with an ominous tone to her voice.

“Actually we're not here to get our fortunes told. We need your help.”

“What do you mean? She asked, dropping the ominous tone.

“Well my husband here is a victim to a body swapping spell gone wrong.” I showed her the book, flipping to the page.

“Oh my,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “This is very powerful magic indeed.”

“But how do we reverse it?”

“I don't know for sure. But the victim should try to recite it instead.

“Victim? You mean Derek? How would that work?”

“Do not question why things are the way they are. Now go!” She said suddenly. With that, we hurried back home to recite the spell.

“Ok how do I do this now?” Derek asked.

“Just recite the spell, and focus on a picture of us.” He recited the incantation.

“Nothing happened…how was it last time?”

“Same as this time. I guess it took awhile to take effect. What should we do in the meantime?” He didn't reply, but instead stared at himself in the mirror.

“You know, now that this face actually has a brain behind it, it's actually kinda hot.” He then walked over to me and got real close. I'd never been intimidated by Derek before for obvious reasons, but this time I couldn't help but feel dominated by his brawny self.

“The spell picked this guy because you thought he was so hot didn't it? That's gotta be it.” He said with a low voice.

“Y-yeah. I admit it. He seemed dumb at the library but hey, he was a hunk.”

“And now I'm that hunk.” He started feeling all around his body again. He then glanced at his dick and began to stroke it. I knew exactly where this was going and I was all for it.

“Well then Mr. Muscle Hunk, why don't you show off that body a bit more?”

“I'd like nothing more…but I'm gonna go shower first. Who knows where this guy's been?”

“Yeah good idea. I'll be in the room.”

I was so excited! This was gonna be the hottest thing ever! I headed toward the closet to find something sexy to put on. Suddenly I felt a bit dizzy. I noticed my skin seemed to be glowing somehow. Within seconds it turned ghostly white, and then became so bright, it hurt to look at. Why was I glowing? It seemed to be just my body though, nothing was happening to my clothes. As quickly as it came, the glowing stopped and the dizziness returned. I didn't have time to see what happened, because as soon as the glow stopped I lost my balance and fell onto the nearby chair.

My clothes felt incredibly tight, but it wasn't long before I realized why. I was fat! My shirt didn't even fit over my large belly. My pants must've popped a button as my gut hung over them. I tried to get up but the weight of my gut kept pushing me backwards. How do fat guys even do this?

When I finally got up and onto my feet, I rushed to the mirror, my hanging belly flopping up and down. My face looked familiar…oh shit. I was that guy we saw at the fortune teller's! Did the spell do this? How did this happen?!

I heard the shower stop, meaning Derek was going to meet me here any minute now. I couldn't believe the hottest night of my life was about to be ruined! Why did this have to happen?

The door opened and there he was, standing there in a pair of briefs. They were always a little big on him, but with his new body, they were pretty tight. It looked like he shaved his head too. He stared at me, at first he looked shocked but then his expression changed. Was that a look of lust?

“So the spell did something to you too?”

“Yeah…look at me! I'm a mess!” I jiggled my flabby moobs to prove my point.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It's not so bad.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean…well you know how you said I look hot like this? And that the spell probably made me like this for that reason?”

“Yeah. What are you getting at…wait.”

“Mhm.” He mumbled with a sexy smirk.

“Y-you think I'm hot like this?!" He got real close and started making out with me. It was the most intense make out session I'd ever had. The feeling of his thick mustache rubbing against my face was a sensation I would've never expected could feel so good.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yep,” I said with a smirk.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley finally comes clean about what's really going on and begs you to forgive him. You both know what's at stake now and agree that some things need to change. But it's so hard staying away from each other, especially after a week apart. He shows you how sorry he is over and over again.

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

Length: 4900 words

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

Check out my masterlist for more!

Your ears were ringing. Bradley's words did not make sense. "What?" you gasped.

"Meredith wants custody of Noah."

You suddenly felt dizzy. Maybe you had misheard. But you could tell by the look on Bradley's face that he was stressed and upset. "No," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "No."

"Yeah." His big palms were warming you through your dress as he pressed his face against your neck. "And I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," you told him as tears filled your eyes. You couldn't imagine a world in which Noah grew up in a different house with a different parent. The idea of if was unsettling. 

"But I lied to you. On purpose. I wanted you far away from Noah and I, but I couldn't stand it. And I need you to be safe."

"Safe? From what?" you asked, easing away from him a bit so you could look him in the eye. He shook his head, still reluctant to tell you everything. "You keep saying that. You can talk to me, Bradley. About anything," you said, stroking your thumb along his mustache. 

He kissed your nose. "Baby, when you got hurt in the park? That was intentional. Meredith was trying to throw me off. She came here and told me she intends to get custody of Noah. She... insinuated that she followed you to there on purpose, and she promised me she wouldn't hesitate to go through you again if she had to. To get to Noah and I."

Your skin broke out in goosebumps as you shivered and gaped at him. "What?"

He nodded, rubbing his hands along your back. "I can't let anything bad happen to you. That's why I had you come here that night, and I lied my ass off to get you mad enough to want to stay away."

"But I don't want to stay away from either of you," you whispered, and he kissed you softly. "Bradley, you have to fight for Noah.

"I know, Princess. I know. But I have no idea how long this could take. And if you and I are something, then Meredith can try to use that to hurt you. Or twist it into some fabricated story about..." He shook his head, hesitating before he said, "About how you're so much younger than me. It would look bad."

Something. Being something with Bradley would feel so right. "Is that what you wanted to talk about before Meredith found Noah and I at the park?"

He nodded miserably. "I wanted to talk about us."

Your heart couldn't handle this. You looked at Bradley's gorgeous face and emotion filled expression, and you felt tears again as you stroked your fingernails along the short hair at the back of his neck. It felt good, and it looked like he was starting to calm down as you dug your fingers in a bit more. 

"You can't worry about that right now. You need to worry about Noah. Do you have a good lawyer? Someone you can trust who knows what a good dad you are? Will it help if I give a statement about how you take care of everything for him? You're so responsible, you even hired a top notch babysitter."

You laughed softly when Bradley smiled at you, but now your tears were starting to fall. 

"It's okay, Princess," he muttered using his thumb to brush them away. 

"No, it's not okay. Because you're Noah's dad. You'd never abandon him. You love him." 

Bradley kissed your cheeks, damp from the tears. The prickle of his mustache on your skin and his hands on your body felt so good, it was almost unbearable. "You're so fucking sweet," he crooned. "I can't believe I told you I wanted anything else except you. Can you even forgive me?"

You nodded with your eyes closed as his lips brushed along your forehead. "Of course. But don't hurt me again."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't."

You wanted to be able to trust him again. You thought you could. "What does this mean then?"

He shook his head, still looking sad. "I can't give you a commitment, baby. Not now. I need to focus on Noah and my lawyer and this fucking court case."

You nodded as he kissed your forehead again and again. "What if you had started dating one of the women from the app?"

"I'd have ended things. For real. And it would have been easy to put Noah and myself ahead of them. Not like with you. You're different."

"Oh," you gasped as he backed you up against the counter. His words made you feel as good as deleting the dating app had.

"I want you. But I need to give the appearance that I'm one hundred percent focused on Noah right now. Distraction free. I couldn't ask you to wait for me."

You let Bradley's words wash over you, and you marvelled at him. "You would want me to wait for you? You would wait for me?" 

His eyes were wide as he squeezed your hips and nodded. You were both silent for a moment as the skim of his thumbs along your dress was somehow enough to leave your breath ragged. He licked his lips  "You want me to beg?"

"Yes, Daddy."

You moaned as he dropped to his knees in front of you, and you grabbed two fists full of his hair. You bit your lip as he looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes. "Please, Princess?" he asked. "When you look at me like that and talk to me like that, I just about fucking lose it, baby."

"Bradley," you moaned, pulling him closer to you. And then his hands were at the backs of your calves, and he was kissing your belly through your dress.

"I barely lasted a week without you," he whispered, his hands slowly making their way up to your thighs. He rested his chin just below your belly button and looked up at you with needy eyes. "Do you have any idea how jealous you made me feel today? I couldn't stand it when Jake was touching you. I wanted to level him to the ground when he kissed you." Bradley guided your dress up to your waist and kissed along your belly until his nose was buried against the front of your underwear. 

"Daddy. I'll wait for you."

He kept his eyes on yours as he bunched your dress up in one fist and pulled your underwear down with his other hand. Then his lips were on your pussy, so soft as the rough feel of his mustache made you gasp his name.

Bradley licked slowly along your slit, separating you until he had his lips wrapped around your clit. Your fingers were still wound so tight in his hair, but you couldn't let go as you bucked against him. 

"You're so damn sensitive," he growled, wrapping his hands around your thighs and lifting you up onto the counter without warning as he stood. 

"Bradley!" you screeched, tugging on his hair as he set your bare butt on the cold granite. He kissed your lips and pulled your dress over your head, and then he pulled you to the very edge of the counter as you let your own taste linger on your tongue. "What are you doing?"

He looked you up and down, sitting there in your bra and sandals with your underwear dangling from your right foot. "Gonna make you cum."

And then he was back on his knees with his face buried in your pussy while you braced yourself on the edge of the counter. He was so good at this, and you couldn't help but rock against his face as you watched him get you so close. 

"Daddy," you whined. "You really like doing this, don't you?" He sucked on your clit until you were squeaking and kicking the lower cabinet. 

"Eating pussy?"

"Yeah," you moaned as he licked you while he grinned.

"I do. And a pussy as sweet as yours? I never wanna stop."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped two fingers inside you. You arched your back and accidentally put your hand in the corner of Noah's leftover birthday cake as he nibbled on your clit. "Oh, fuck."

"Remind me," he said, in that deep Daddy voice. "Anyone else ever put their lips here, Princess?" He kissed you so softly just above his fingers sliding in and out of you. 

"No!" you nearly screamed, so thankful that Greyson was just a boy compared to Bradley. Just the idea of Greyson was laughable. He wouldn't do this for you, and thank god he hadn't. It would have been so disappointing. 

"That's a good girl," he crooned, and your hand sunk further into the cake as you came.

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

Bradley's lips and mustache were wet and his dick was so hard. You said you'd wait for him. He couldn't believe he had been bold enough to even ask you. 

Bradley watched as you pulled your right hand out of Noah's birthday cake. You looked like you were in a daze, already so pliant in Bradley's arms as he stood and unhooked your bra. "You feel good, Princess?" he asked softly, and you nodded as he eased the fabric away from your tits and tossed your bra on top of your dress. "Perfect."

He raised your bandaged arm and kissed the inside of your elbow softly before taking your thumb between his lips to clean off the icing. He licked each of your fingers in turn until you were mostly cleaned up.

"Are you gonna fuck me?" you asked as your eyes followed the movement of his lips gliding along your hand. 

He leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste the icing as it mingled with your wetness. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

Bradley groaned as you reached for the front of his jeans with your left hand and yanked his zipper down. "Easy, baby. There's no rush."

Your moan was so pretty, head tossed back as you whispered, "You're such a man."

Bradley stripped his shirt off before toeing off his shoes. You watched him ease down his jeans and remove the rest of his clothing before he came to stand between your spread thighs. He knew he was big, and the sight of his cock rubbing through your wet pussy had him grunting as you whined loudly. 

Thank goodness Noah was gone for the night. 

He pushed himself inside you with one hard thrust, and your body completely lit up for him. "Daddy," you gasped, keeping your wide eyes on his as you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck. Your perfect lips were parted, and when he pulled your bottom lip between his, you moaned. 

Then he started thrusting into you as his hips rubbed the insides of your soft thighs where you were spread wide for him. "I knew I needed it to be special," he mused out loud, tipping your pretty face up with his big hands on your neck and cheek. "You're so fucking perfect."

"Daddy."

He shook his head and went harder as your hands fell back next to your ass to brace yourself on the counter. "No more college boys. No more Jake."

"No," you gasped, the quiver of your voice getting louder and higher. "I don't want them!"

"Just us," he said, and you nodded your head vigorously as you bit your lip.

Bradley could feel your thighs tighten against him as you pulsed softly around his cock. "Fuck," you groaned, looking up at him, your face screwed up in pleasure. 

"You're already close." He couldn't believe it. He wrapped his hands around your waist and gave you long, hard strokes as you shook your head slowly from side to side. The tip of your tongue met the corner of your lips, and then Bradley's mouth was all over yours. He swallowed every gasp you made before you started keening and gripping him harder.

"Oh my god," you whined, cumming around him when he reached for your clit with his thumb. And there went your hand, right back into Noah's cake. Bradley smiled and enjoyed the bounce of your pretty tits as he fucked the last bit of your orgasm out of you.

You were shaking a bit, looking up at him in shock as his movements slowed. You leaned forward to kiss his lips softly, and your clean fingers trailed down the front of his body. Bradley groaned loudly as you grazed his pubic hair and reached down to cup his balls as he was still hard and buried inside you.

"You gonna keep going, Daddy?" you asked him softly, your eyes entirely too innocent looking for your own good.

"I can stop if you need a break," he promised, kissing your cheek. Your fucked out face was going to be his undoing.

"No," you whined, wiggling your pussy up and down his cock. "I want you to cum, too."

Bradley let you fuck yourself on him while he stayed still. Your gaze was transfixed on your pussy as you took him nice and slow. "God, you're big. Daddys are big," you whispered, seemingly to yourself. You were getting icing all over his counter and your thigh, and Bradley wanted you to fucking stay here with him forever. 

"You want me to cum too, Princess?" he asked, his voice rough, drawing your gaze up to his face.

"Yes."

He had you off the counter in an instant, spinning you and bending you over. "Good girl," he crooned as you spread your legs a little wider and got up on your tiptoes for him. "Yeah, you know what to do." He guided himself inside you again, fucking you as he palmed your ass. Your cheek came to rest on the granite counter, and Bradley watched you lick icing from your hand as you took him.

When he held you by your hips, he pulled you up so you were barely touching the floor. He could see how tight you were, gripping onto his cock with each thrust. You felt too good to be true, honestly better than anything. And you were just whining and licking up the icing like the most beautifully depraved thing he could have ever imagined.

"Daddy," you groaned, your voice shaking as Bradley fucked you harder. "Oh!"

Each thrust was somehow better than the last, and soon his hips were jerking in rough little strokes. His body was slapping against yours, and his head was tipped back. "Oh, hell yes," he growled, squeezing your hips tight and clenching his eyes shut before he watched those final few strokes of his dick in your pussy. 

And then he was filling you with his cum as you whined his name. He fucked his cum deeper as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You had icing on your lips, and he leaned down to lick you clean. 

"Mmm," you moaned as he pulled out of you. But when you went to stand, Bradley pushed you back gently onto the counter and knelt behind you. 

He kissed your ass and the backs of both of your thighs, and then he watched a bead of his cum drip out of your pretty, little pussy and down to your clit before dropping onto the floor. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whispered, mesmerized by the mess he had made and how pretty it looked oozing out of you. He kissed along your backside and whispered so much praise until you wiggled yourself back against his face. 

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked, and he stood up to collect you against himself. You were a mess of cum and icing, and he kissed you gently, trying to convey how much he needed you.

"Yeah, I'm good, Princess." You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his neck as he reached above you for a plate. He used the plastic utensils and cut an enormous piece of cake. And then he helped ease you onto the floor with him.

You giggled as he leaned back against the cabinet and pulled you against him. You were straddling his left thigh, making an absolute mess of his cum, sticky between the two of you. It was perfect. And you settled your cheek against his shoulder as he fed you a bite of cake.

"I'm so happy you came over today."

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

You took bites of the cake from the shared fork, practically moaning over how good it tasted after getting fucked so well.

"You were hard forever," you murmured. "How did you last so long?"

"I'm not one of your college frat boys, Princess."

"No, you're not," you said, meeting his eyes. The quickie in your bedroom and the other times you'd been with him had been exceptional. You always came! He made sure you were enjoying yourself! He never asked for anything for himself! "I know we can't be...official," you whispered, sounding ridiculous to your own ears as your pussy rubbed along the coarse hairs on his thigh as you sat up straight. You met his eyes as you asked, "But are you going to stop messing around with other people?"

Bradley looked at you and cocked his head to one side. "I'm confused. What do you mean?"

You sighed and tucked your face against his neck. "You wanted me to wait for you?" you whispered, and Bradley started laughing loudly. You jerked back away from him. "What?" you asked as you tried to scramble out of his lap. But he held you firmly in place. 

"I haven't been with anyone except you in almost a year, Princess," he said, his tone slightly self-deprecating as his cheeks flushed. "That fantastic blowjob you gave me ended my dry spell."

You just gaped at him before you asked, "When I left and walked back in to get my sweatshirt?" When he nodded you grinned. "You were about to masturbate that night, weren't you?"

Bradley groaned. "I was. But I got something so much better than my own hand and your sweatshirt to smell."

You moaned softly. "How? How did you go that long? A year?"

"Noah," he said with a shrug. "If I have to choose between him and seeing someone, I obviously have to choose him. I mean I also want to choose him." He paused and fed you another bite of cake. "But you don't make me choose. You let me be Noah's dad, and then you let me spend my extra time with you. I missed you this week. I missed your Skittles, Princess."

Your head was swimming with his words as you leaned in closer and whispered, "I missed you so much, Bradley. Both of you." He set down the plate and pulled you against him. "What are you going to do about Meredith?"

He ran his fingers up and down your back as you melted against him. The rumble of his deep voice had your eyes drifting closed. "I'm going to fight for Noah. I don't know what else to do. Tracy, my lawyer, thinks I have a good case."

"That's good," you whispered. "Noah needs you." You couldn't tell him that you needed him, too. That you needed both of them. Not yet. For now you could feel secure in the knowledge that Bradley would be waiting for you, ready for a commitment after he won custody. Because he would definitely win custody. "If you need me to watch Noah for you or make a statement in court, I can do that."

He hummed against your hair and said, "I don't want you to have to do that. Meredith and her lawyer will try to find a way to make you look bad."

You pulled away from him and rolled your eyes. "Now that I know who Meredith is and what she's all about, she doesn't scare me, Bradley. I'll be there in an instant if you think it would help. There has to be some reason she's trying to get custody all of a sudden. You need to figure it out with Tracy."

"I know," he mumbled. "I'm going to keep Noah with me. I have to. And I'm going to try to get Meredith out of the picture for good."

"She doesn't deserve him."

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

Bradley's heart was telling him that you were the one who was good enough for Noah. You loved his son, and Noah was enamored with you as well. More than anything, he wanted to label this now. He wanted to put a tag on this feeling of holding you on his kitchen floor while you were a mess from his cum and the icing. He wanted you to be his for real. 

"How's your arm feeling?" he asked, rubbing the gauze on your forearm gently. 

"It's getting there," you whispered against his neck. "Hard to change the bandages by myself though."

"I'll do it." His immediate response had you looking up at him and nodding. "Might be easier to clean it up in the shower? And then rebandage everything?"

"Yeah," you agreed, and Bradley was scooping you up as he stood. When he set you down on your feet, he reached for your hand, but instead of leading you to the bathroom, he took you to the refrigerator. 

"You want a beer?" he asked, grabbing two in one hand.

"For the shower?" you asked with a laugh. "I guess."

Then he kissed the tip of your nose, and led you down the hallway. "You've never had a shower beer before?"

You giggled at the scandalized look on his face. "No, I can't say that I have."

"Well, shit. Stick with me, baby. I'll show you the finest things in life." He set both bottles down on the ledge next to his shampoo and turned the shower on, and while the water warmed up he pulled you close. 

"You are both ridiculous and adorable at the same time," you told him as he started to remove your bandage. "And I'm really happy you didn't start dating anyone from the app."

He groaned as he examined your arm. "That fucking app. I know Nat meant well, but I'm never doing that again. That was a waste of time."

"Good," you whispered as he ran his fingers gently along your healing scrapes. "I don't want you to."

Bradley reached back to test the water temperature before stepping in with you and sliding the glass door closed. First he took the time to clean your arm up as gently as he could. You watched him quietly, and every time he met your eyes, he kissed you. He knew he was going to have to focus on so many other things this week, so he just wanted to enjoy this moment with you while he had it.

After he rinsed your arm, he handed you one of the beers and tapped his bottle to yours. Then he took a long pull of beer while you took a sip of yours, pressing the bottle to your pretty lips. 

"Cold beer? Hot shower? It just makes sense, right?" he asked as you laughed. 

"I hate it when you're right," you said. "I figured this was one of your silly, old man philosophies, but it actually does somehow make sense."

Bradley rolled his eyes while he drank and then set his beer down. "You told me I'm not that old."

"You're not, Daddy," you whispered, taking a long drink before adding, "I just like to mess with you." 

Bradley reached for the soap while you drank. He was admiring the water droplets rolling down your neck to your tits and belly. When he licked up some of the beads of water from your collarbone, you moaned around your beer bottle, and Bradley's cock twitched. He coated his hands in soap before rubbing them along your beautiful skin while he hummed.

"I know that song," you murmured, head lulling to the side slightly as his fingers met the undersides of your breasts. "I was playing it the first time I babysat Noah. You were surprised I knew it."

"It's my favorite song," he quickly supplied. "And now it reminds me of you. And for some reason, I don't even find that annoying."

You almost knocked the beers down as you reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him. He loved this. The feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body under the cascading shower, and the taste of his favorite beer on your tongue. 

"I don't know why I like that so much," you told him between kisses.

Bradley reached for your hips and pressed himself against you as he said, "The song makes me happy, and so do you, Princess."

Your soft gasp had him a little dizzy. "You're already hard again," you whispered in wonder, running your painted fingernails down along his length. "We just had sex in the kitchen."

He nodded as you wrapped your hand around him. "I could get hard for you anytime." 

The whimpered, "Daddy," that escaped your lips made him throb. And this time when he fucked you from behind, it was slower, and maybe a little sweeter. You had your right hand planted against the tile wall and you were turned back to look at him over your right shoulder. Every soft whimper and each flutter of your wet eyelashes had him spewing out the kind of depraved nonsense he couldn't remember ever telling anyone else.

You're so perfect, baby.

Nobody else feels this good.

I could spend the rest of the night making love to you.

I think I need you.

And you let him say every single word to you as you whimpered for him. Whined for more. So he rocked into you and kissed your neck and cheek and shoulder. He buried his face against you, somehow still smelling wildflowers on your skin. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue, and he started to lose track of what he had even told you.

He was all lips and hands and praising as you came for him, again. And when you turned to face him, back against the tile and eyes wide, you pulled him to you. Then you kissed him until he was ready to keep begging you for more.

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

After Bradley dried you off and took you into his bedroom, he pulled out a well worn Top Gun tee shirt and some gym shorts for you to wear. He was just strutting around naked, looking hotter than sin as he tightened the drawstring of the shorts for you. "Since your dress is covered in cum and icing," he said, kissing your cheek while you laughed. 

"It was a kitchen casualty, and I don't mind at all," you replied, frowning a little bit when he pulled on some underwear. 

"Yeah, well," he grunted, "I'm not complaining about how tonight ended up."

"I was really mad at you when I got here, and since then, we've had sex multiple times," you said blandly. 

He linked his fingers with yours. "Thank you for listening to me. I'm not gonna hurt you again, Princess."

"You better not." He tugged on your hand and took you back to the kitchen, which was actually a mess. But when you started to clean up, Bradley shook his head.

"Absolutely not." He flipped on his fancy coffee maker and then grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink. "Come here." You sat on his left thigh as he took the time to carefully examine your right arm, pausing now and then to kiss your fingers. "It looks pretty good. I hope it doesn't scar," he said looking up at you with a very serious expression. "I can't believe this is my fault."

You kissed him and shook your head. "I don't care if it scars. And it's not like you forced Meredith to be a flaming bitch."

He just grunted and very gently rubbed first aid cream onto your scrapes before taping some fresh gauze into place. He actually did a pretty good job.

"You're my favorite nurse," you whispered, and then he laughed. 

"You're my favorite nurse, Princess." 

He set you down on the chair and brought you a vanilla latte in a mug that said I Like to Wing It. And then he proceeded to steal so many sips that you said, "Next time, make two, Daddy."

"Next time," he murmured, kissing you until you knew you had to leave before you just didn't.

"I should go," you told him, standing with the mug.

"You should stay," he replied, taking the mug from you and swallowing hard. "Please?"

Your eyes fluttered closed. "I want to, but I don't think we should get into a habit of that. Not right now."

He sighed and dipped his head down. "Someday, I'm going to want you to stay, and I'm never going to want you to leave."

You met his eyes and told him, "That sounds good to me, Daddy."

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

Hey, no cliffhanger! It's all out in the open now. Lord knows what he was close to telling her in the shower. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 17

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Gah. You hate the taste. It doesn’t get any better and it feels worse on your skin. There’s something unnatural about human biology. Should that be so slimy?  

You’re not a prude, not mentally, only experientially. The act itself, yeah, it’s kind of hot, but the finale. That’s too much. Not to mention, it wasn’t exactly mutual. None of this is. 

It’s weird, actually. The more you think of it, sat naked under a desk, in the mess of his excitement, you can’t help but analyse the situation you find yourself in. This man articulated a strategic destruction of your life; he messed with your rent, your bank, your job, and now you’re sitting her in his house, perched on your heels like an orphan begging for more gruel. 

You frown as you rub your chin again. Despite the single tissue he offered, you still felt the residue clinging to your skin. You need a shower. Or maybe some clothes. That would be nice. You scrunch up your nose and sneer. 

“What the hell is that face for?” Floyd—Lloyd snips and you look up to meet his gaze through the glass top of the desk, his keyboard blocking out all but one of his blue eyes. Hey, he has nice eyes for a meanie. You’d never tell him because he’s not a very good listener. 

“Nothing, I just...” you shrug and his eye flicks down to the jiggle of your chest. You cross your arms and tilt your head to the side, “can I go wash off or something?” 

“Why?” He challenges. 

Your lips part and a puff of air shoots out. Is he serious? 

“I... I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything but semen smells and I smell like semen, so going by a very basic formula--” 

“Oh my god, you don’t stop. Why can’t you just say anything straight out? Why’s it this nonsense?” He growls. 

“Fair enough, but I’m still hoping to see a sink or maybe a washcloth--” 

He rolls his eyes and closes them. He sits back and puts his hands to either side of his nose and exhales heavily. He clucks as he drops his arms and considers you as he leans against the leather cushioning. 

“You don’t make the rules. Stay.” 

He rolls back up to the desk and starts typing again. You look at the bottom of the sleek keyboard. He’s definitely an Apple guy, the iMac isn’t even the biggest giveaway. He just has that essence to him. He’s one of those guys who claims to be all about the best of everything but really he’s just buying into capitalism. He’s basic; mainstream. 

What is he even doing? Typing, clicking, scowling at the screen. Is he working? What on earth does he even do? Well, if you account for the mustache, the tacky clothes, and shoes without socks, you might assume he’s some sort of salesman. Used cars if you were to go by looks alone and yet his house would suggest more than that.  

He doesn’t look like a lawyer. He could be a tech bro, again, Apple everything. Still, the way he types doesn’t really seem savvy. He’s got the whole chicken peck down pat, jabbing each key with his index finger. So you’re at a loss. What the hell do rich people do? How do they even get rich? 

“Would you stop staring at me like that?” He stops again, another glare through the glass. 

You swallow and shake your head, shifting on your knees as you keep your arms across your chest. 

“Sir, Mr. Jansen--” 

“Hansen,” he grits dangerously. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, sir, please, it’s cold in here, can I get a sweater or maybe you could turn off the air? This time of day, the rate must be ridiculous.” 

His lashes flutter and his forehead lines. His hand closes to a fist then opens. His chest rises and he squares his jaw. 

“You’re distracting me. I’m trying to work.” 

“So maybe I could go somewhere else. It’s a big house--” 

“My house,” he insists. 

“A very nice house,” you offer, “I mean I’m sitting down here, my knees are killing me, I’m shivering, I can’t sit still. You’re not gonna get anything done. I’m agreeing with you. One hundred percent. I’m annoying. A real nuisance so let the leash go a little bit. Promise, I won’t touch a thing--” 

He squints then his eyes flick up as he thinks. His lips thin and he huffs. He brings his fingertips together, elbows planted on the glass desk, and taps them as he hums. 

“You’re lucky you can make me cum,” he grumbles. 

“Ah, but sir, don’t give me all the credit. You’re a very good cummer. An expert, it seems.” 

His nose crinkles and his mouth falls open, for just a second. His cheek dimples and he shakes it away, “what on earth are you fucking on about?” 

“I’m just saying, sir, I don’t know much about the old sausage link but I’m comparing it to the hub--” 

“The hub?” 

“PornHub, I’m sure you know it.” 

He lets out cluck but says nothing else. 

“Anyway, you got what they would call girth,” you gesture with your hands. “Good job, although, maybe it’s more a genetic type thing. Not really something you did...” 

He stares at you for a moment the pushes his knees wide. He takes a breath and slides slightly forward in his chair. You are keenly aware of the twitch beneath his pants. Please, not again. Are their calories in cum? 

“You watch a lot of porn?” He asks, a genuine hint of interest in his voice. The furthest from spite you’ve heard from him. 

“Eh, not as much as some people, I'm sure. I get curious,” you say. “but within discretion. Never wanna go too far down the rabbit hole.” 

He taps his toe and gives a thoughtful angle of his chin, twining his fingers between each other, “what kinds?” 

“Mm, well, I dunno. Usually, I just click something on the front page that doesn’t look too wild. Like creampie is pretty standard, I guess. Doggystyle is usually all over, but the stepdaughter stuff, ick. Not for me, sir. No way.” 

He makes a clicking noise in his throat and slowly reclines in his chair, “you are way too honest for your own good.” 

“Maybe, I guess. In this situation though, what do I get from lying? Besides, I see the stache,” you shoot him with a fingergun then quickly holster it. “You definitely are trawling around. RedTube? Xvideos?” 

“You said you’re curious,” he ignores your question, “you don’t... do anything while you watch?” 

You feel a subtle tickle in your thighs. The casual air turns thick. You’re starting to get worked up. 

“Eh, well, you know... the fingers find a way,” you look away and giggle nervously. “I go on these women’s forums. They say you should know yourself best before you try with a partner. Obviously, I haven’t found my number two yet but I know my way around my captain's chair. I can get to warp speed.” 

His lips curve slowly as you look back to him and you gulp. You’ve said too much. Again. The very reason you fell head first into this predicament. 

“Sir, why are you looking at me like that?” You squeak. 

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips over his bristly mustache, “well, sweet lips, show me the way.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes round. 

“Show me around your captain's chair, as you so eloquently put it,” he demands and wiggles two fingers at you. 

[the-ace-with-spades]

(you really are my enabler, @redfurrycat)

Slightly unserious AU with trans ftm Bradley - or more like 2 AUs, with one being kind of an AU of the just hold my hand fic - who transitioned after the USNA fiasco, which Mav doesn't know about

Version A

Bradley transitioned after Mav pulled his papers - he got rejected by USNA in 2001 but by the end of 2002 he had his name changed and had been on T for about 5 months, all while also simultaneously studying at UVA. When he changed his name, he change everything - social security number, insurance, driving licence, etc. There is literally no trace of his deadname in his documents and what else was there got sealed.

Now, there's one thing - Mav doesn't know any of this. He tries to do anonymous donation for Deadname Bradshaw to pay for her college - gets refunded. Tries to send parcels to her - all returned, stamped 'sender not at address'. Finally, he requests to have the uni check if his daughter (foster/adoptive but still daughter) is up to date on her tuition and grades and gets an email saying Sorry, sir, there's no student under this name currently, never was.

And obviously Mav panics, which in turn makes Ice panic. They go on a trip across the country, but answer from the dean is still the same - there's no student under that name, they only have her admission/offer records and nothing else. They inform the police but since they weren't in a good relationship and their daughter was an adult, travelling across states, they couldn't do much. Thley hire a private detective but the times were different - it was all on paper, easily lost when Bradley changed his name, so the last note of him is his arrival at UVA campus. They never stop looking for her but they'd been told again and again that she is most likely dead.

By the time Bradley enters the Navy, he's been on T for about 4 years and had top surgery done in the summer after second year at uni.

By 2013, eleven years since he changed his name, Bradley changes his surname to Seresin. There's literally no connection to Mav's daughter on paper, at least at first glance. There are things he had to disclose to the Navy but they're all behind a privacy wall that only allows the hire ups and direct command to see it.

By the time Bradley is at Top Gun for the second time, he and Jake are about a year after finalizing their divorce - they broke up because Bradley married him and all (and Jake fully believed he did love him, no doubt about it) but Jake still didn't know much about his past and Bradley couldn't open himself up fast enough for Jake and Jake felt like they were moving nowhere.

Bradley never changed back his surname. Jake didn't know until they met again at Top Gun. Bradley can lie to himself all he wants, but the truth is that he didn't keep it just to avoid connections with his previous name completely.

When Mav is met with Bradley Seresin and Jake Seresin, he at first assumes they're brothers. And then he sees Bradley's face and nothing else matters.

He is so weirded out - Bradley looks like he'd imagine his daughter to grow up to look, but male (because you know, mustache). And he can't stop staring and Bradley having some kind of problem doesn't help. He sees Bradley and he can't stop thinking about anything else.

Meanwhile Jake can see Bradley is acting equally weird around Mav (and maybe assumes things and gets a bit jealous... Sorry I love that trope) and confronts him about it, in private. And for the first time, Bradley opens up to him about his past - about how Mav was his adoptive dad, about how he pulled his papers, about how the last time they've seen each other Bradley was pre-transition and about how Mav doesn't know.

Eventually though Mav catches up with the Seresins actually being exes/husbands and checks for Bradley's maiden name. And once he sees it's nee Bradshaw, he finally feels a little less crazy, enough to tell Ice about the whole thing and ask him to check if Bradley is their daughter's long lost cousin or if Goose had a long lost brother or cousin.

By the time Ice digs deep enough into the files to find the truth, Mav and Bradley had already been shipped out.

Version B (contains trans pregnancy)

Most of the stuff still happened but this is slightly more realistic take. Bradley does change his name in 2002 but this disqualifies him from ever serving in the Navy. He transitions as he studies aerospace engineering and earns his commercial plane licence.

He and Jake meet by accident, in an aeroclub Bradley had a side job at. They fall in love and struggle through the remaining DADT era.

Jake knows about Bradley everything - and he means everything. From what he likes to eat, through his preferred pain meds, to his whole family history.

Fast forward to the Top Gun return. Mav meets Jake and it seems that Jake, for some reason, hates him. It is a common feeling among the Navy men but usually it comes from the higher ups, not Mav's subordinates. The kid is so angry with him that he can't even absorb anything Mav is trying to teach him and if this goes on like this, he's going to get himself killed.

Mav tries to do an intervention but the second he says something along the lines of your family would like to see you in one piece, Jake kinda explodes at him, saying all those things about how Mav knows jack shit about family and has absolutely nothing to lose because he's already lost everything and he should shut his mouth.

Mav is... stunned. So stunned he doesn't say anything and just lets him walk away.

And Phoenix, who has been friends with Bradley and Jake for years, tries to soften the situation and tells Mav a little bit of what she thinks it's going on - that Jake has a heavily pregnant spouse at home and they're expecting their first baby and the timing of the detachment couldn't be worse. Which isn't really untrue, it does get Jake more irritable, but Mav is the biggest problem.

Because Jake knows. Jake knows about how Mav spent every other weekend since Bradley turned fourteen in a plane with Bradley and then every other weekend teaching Bradley to pilot the minute he turned sixteen. He knows how Mav was supposed to teach him all he knew and then pulled the rag from underneath him silently, and pulled his application to USNA like it was nothing. He knows all about how Mav never explained, never apologized, never even tried to fix what he had done. He knows how much it cost Bradley - the trust, the vulnerability, the ability to feel loved unconditionally. And he is damned pissed at him.

Things do go on. Jake does acknowledge that he has to calm down if he wants to come back home.

He and Mav bump into each other on the parking lot before the shipment, the only two not having a loved one sending them off. Mav stupidly asks where Jake's wife is and Jake tells him that his husband can't really drive anymore, especially in his old car where the suspension is too high to get in smoothly with the baby bump in the way. Mav is a bit confused but connects the dots pretty soon - obviously, Seresin's husband must be trans in some way. Asks if there's anyone who can drive him around when Jake is away and Jake just looks him in the eyes and tells him, he's only got me.

(Mav might or might not ask Ice to check on Seresin's husband when they're gone and Ice might or might not give Bradley a heart attack by calling him...)

Jake never told Bradley who his instructor was. At least not before the mission. He is in a separate room in a hospital after the whole thing is and Bradley insists he is going to come and visit him to see with his own eyes he's okay. Once he's at the hospital, Jake tells him he'd prefer Bradley stay home until he comes back and obviously Bradley who is feeling very unsure and insecure at the moment gets upset.

So Jake tells him that his instructor and the guy he flew the mission with is Mav.

Bradley does leave because he doesn't want to bump into him. They pass each other on the corridor briefly as Mav is being wheeled back from x-ray and Mav feels like he's hallucinating - like he's seen a ghost because you know, Bradley looks like his daughter but also not really because he's a guy.

It all comes to a head when the whole squad celebrates at the Hard Deck. Bradley is feeling up like going even if he can't drink and most of the people there know about Jake having a husband and that he's trans and pregnant and are being normal about it. So they're having nice little evening with Jake plastered to him at all times out of protectiveness, clinginess and just missing him.

Jake didn't know Mav was invited.

Mav comes in ready to greet the daggers and is met with a ghost's face. Jake tries to pretend all is normal for about a minute but it's obvious that Mav can't stop staring and that Bradley is panicking, basically hyperventilating in Jake's arms so they just--up and go, really. Jake leads them out of the bar without even a glance back, whispering Bradley apologies about how he didn't know Mav would be there.

Meanwhile, once they stood up - Bradley with some of Jake's help - Mav gets hit with the very visible reminder that Bradley, the guy with his daughter's face, is trans and pregnant. And he is not a hundred percent sure, but he's pretty damn sure the odds are already so weird, there's no way this is another guy who looks like his daughter, it's gotta be his daughter, but after transitioning.

And on the off chance that he is making it all in his head, he tells Ice and hopes he would know how to intervene.

Maybe, eventually, Mav just goes to their house. Maybe Jake is still on the defence and tries to get rid off him when Bradley comes to the door in all the heavily pregnant glory - barefoot, wearing a t-shirt that is too small and in an oversized cardigan and Jake's Navy sweatpants that are too short at the ankles - and tells him it's okay and that he'll talk to Mav alone, on the porch.

[amangoicedtea]

Something new

Hi! I have never written anything like this or posted on tumblr like this so sorry if it is not very good, I tried. Also wrote this about the flames game because I am not well about the mustache being gone, so just imagine it is still there.

Sidney Crosby x reader

Warnings: none

Read below:

“Are you sure?” Sidney asked for what felt like the 100th time. 

“Yes… I’m sorry, I’m just not ready,” she said, “I will still be watching, I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later, yeah?” He walked out the door leaving you alone in his apartment, that he is lovingly letting you crash at. You know he did not like leaving you alone, but he felt better with you being at the house, his house.

The game didn't start for another couple hours so you decided to read while you wait. It was relaxing just laying in his bed while his cat sat with you, very domestic. Moving in was not something the two of you had discussed, still early in the relationship, but he had been leaving hints around, like an extra key and wishing you would stay the night rather than leave. Not that you were upset by it, a hockey player with a cute ass cat, yeah no fight necessary. But there was always going to be something in the back of your mind a little worried about the relationship. Sidney is 37 while you are 26, not a child by any means, but an eleven-year age gap might raise concerns by fans. That was the reason you weren't going to the game tonight and just stuck with watching it in his house. The age gap was a sore spot for the two of you, because while Sidney was never a very public man, especially with his love life, he still wanted you to feel comfortable going out with him and going to games, which is why it was so hard to turn him down every other day.

When enough time passed, the game was starting, cozied up in bed with Maverick watching the national anthem being sung. The penguins were playing the flames at home tonight, with the penguins on a hot streak, it should be an interesting game. Luckily, the win streak continued with a 2-6 Penguins win, Sidney got an assist so he should be happy. Once more time passed after the game ended and the post-game interviews started, Sidney appeared again looking smiley and happy after the win. Zoning out to his voice, you fight to stay awake, the best solution is to get up and get something to eat so you don’t fall asleep while you wait for Sidney. 

Hours later, after you ate and read some more of your book, you hear the door being unlocked. Sidney comes down the hall towards his room where he knows you are at and smiles. He hates that you wait up for him, but secretly he loves being able to talk to you once he gets home. 

“That was a great game, Sid!”

“Yeah I am pretty happy about it,” he says while doing his cute little half smile. “Happy to be home though.”

“I’m happy you are home too, maybe next game I’ll go see you play,” you add sheepishly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like watching you play here but I know seeing it in person would be amazing,” you said, “and I have been thinking about it, and I think I might be ready to not hide anymore, I trust you, and it's not like you would make a big instagram post or anything.”

“Thank you,” he says, quickly he goes and changes and crawls right back in bed, “that would be everything I need.” 

[toxicanonymity]

birds of prey (one shot)

2600 words, dark RAIDER!tommy x f!reader

Summary: Tommy recently joined the raiding group that killed everyone in your family. When the group comes back to claim the house for their own use, he finds you in the basement. A/N: This is a DIFFERENT READER, not joel's reader. I wanna introduce raider!Tommy before raider joel crosses paths with him (we're not there yet). THANK YOU @dark-scape for the group name, symbol, and soundboard. Also to @romanarose for requesting Tommy in raider!Joel. WARNINGS!!: I8+ mdni, extremely dubious consent unsafe P in V and oral M receiving, dirty talk, pet names, dark/toxic affection- do not be fooled, degradation. NO USE OF Y/N.

The raiders first came a week ago and killed everyone but you–they never found you in the basement.  They took everything they could use, so you aren't sure why they're back, but in your gut you know it's them when you hear the tires on gravel. You make your way down to the basement again. The entry is through a closet floor and it looks like more of a crawl space until you climb down into it. You told everyone it’d be safest there, but they thought if they begged for their lives and let them take everything, the men might be reasonable. 

The short, dirty window at the top of the wall is open and their voices make your stomach turn. 

"Den's big enough, got a kitchen 'n all. Hell, wood's already chopped." They laugh and the door handle jiggles. "Locked?" 

"What? Y'all lock it when ya left?" 

"Didn't think so." 

They bust down the door. 

"So this is it," a new voice announces calmly. "The new nest." 

Someone corrects him, "That's lame, man. You don't gotta call it that when he's not around." 

"Takes this Birds of Prey shit too literally," another man agrees. 

They start showing the new guy around. 

One of the men asks, "think the big guy'll like it?" 

After a moment of silence, someone says "let's talk about the big guy. " It sounds like they're planning a coup. They agree to find somewhere in the house to hide the loot and leave one man behind to guard it overnight. They break up to look for a hiding place. 

—-

Inevitably, the door to your space opens. "Crawlspace," the new voice says.  Then he steps down.  It’s just him.  He hunches over and walks until the ceiling is higher. You're huddled in the corner under a desk.  He scuffs his boot on the ground and a huge layer of dust gets kicked up. He looks around for a minute and says  "alright, alright," to himself. You can only see his boots. Your nose tickles from the dust and you're trying to stave off a sneeze. When his boots turn back toward the door, You're relieved. But you can't keep the tickle at bay. You squeak ever so quietly into your shoulder, then the boots turn in your direction. 

Your heart goes to your throat as the man slowly crouches down. Mustache, long, dark hair, denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up.  Heavily tattooed, though you can’t make anything out.  He raises his eyebrows and his lips purse in bemusement. He clasps his large hands and says “Well hey there,” like he’s speaking to a child.

You’re silent. 

“What are ya doin’ down here?”

“It’s my house,” you say. 

He nods thoughtfully and his brows knit apologetically, but his voice doesn’t match. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says ominously. “My friends said it’s our house, now.” He frowns exaggeratedly. 

Your eyes sting with the dusty air and you realize you’ve had your eyes wide and not blinked this entire time. 

"MILLER WHERE THE HELL ARE YA," someone yells.  

He sighs and stands up. 

“Don’t tell them,” you beg. 

“Why wouldn’t I,” he asks, still standing up, out of view.  

“I’ll do anything,” you say. 

“Anything,” he repeats, then sighs. “Wouldn’t’ve taken ya for that kinda girl. Looked like an angel to me.” 

“MILLER!!!!”

“Please,” you beg. 

“We’ll see,” he says curtly then turns around and leaves. When he gets up the stairs and opens the door, he announces he found a crawlspace that’ll work. 

—----

They unload the stuff, then someone asks, “Who’s stayin’?”

“New guy,” someone says.

“Can ya handle it, Miller?” another voice asks. “Place like this might get spooky at night.” 

The men chuckle. 

“I’m good,” Miller says. 

“That’s the spirit, Tommy boy.” 

“See ya tomorrow.”

—

Tommy starts bringing crates down, and the men get ready to leave.  They continue to talk amongst themselves upstairs on their way out. Tommy crouches down to look at you, a little closer this time, about two meters away.  He smiles at you then sits on the floor with his hands behind him, not saying anything. As the men leave, you both overhear their crude banter. Tommy looks at the window as he listens. 

"Think she's ready for more?" 

"I call back door first." Your heart drops thinking about whoever’s waiting for them back where they came from. 

"Shit, you can have it. D'ya see the lips on her?"  There’s no way she’s willingly waiting for this disgusting group of men. 

"I wanna see what Tommy boy can do to that pussy."

“Not tonight!” one says and they laugh.

"He doesn't have it in'm," another one says.  

Tommy seems to bristle at this. Then he dons a subtle smirk, looks at you, and slowly sucks in air though his teeth like he's breaking some bad news. "'m afraid I do," he nods. "Just don’t like sharin’."  He sighs.  His nose twitches and you don’t like it. He’s pensive, like he has something to prove. He says, “Hope they don’t do ya like that once they find ya.”

You hug your knees and bury your head to cry. “What do you want,” you ask. 

“Why don’t ya come on out for a start.”

You look at him. He’s not moving from his position. He nods toward the wall as though to give you permission to sit away from him.  He watches you like a hawk as you slowly crawl, still sniffling, and you sit against the wall with your legs out. 

“Good girl,” he says gently, then begins to get up.  You flinch when he stands, but he takes the chair from the desk and turns it to face you.  He sits in it, only about a meter away now.  At this distance, you can see his freckles and the sparkle in his eyes and you hate to admit it, but he’s pretty good looking.  You look at each other for a few seconds.  Apparently he’s thinking the same thing.  “Pretty, too.  Aren’t ya, angel?” 

He leans back and his chest puffs out as he takes off his denim jacket. “Too hot for this,” he mutters and throws it onto the desk. His t-shirt lets you see how strong his chest and arms are as he settles back into the chair and manspreads with his hands on his thighs. One of his hands has a fresh tattoo of a talon on it. His jeans are ripped below the one knee. “So you’ll do anything, huh,” he says contemplatively.  He smooths his hair and looks at the window, then around the room.  “Guess I’ve got all night to find out what that means.” 

You consider your options. If he really doesn’t like sharing, giving yourself to him is your best shot at staying secret from the other men.

“Can I have some water,” you ask.  

He laughs and shakes his head.  “Yeah, what else ya want? A cheeseburger?” He sighs, braces his hands on his knees, and leaves.  He doesn’t come back for hours. 

You’re tired. So tired. It’s been the worst week of your life, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. You’re too tired to fight, too tired to even care what he might do to you.  You fall asleep. 

—--------

You wake up to the sound of boots thudding down the stairs. It’s dark out now.  “Got lost, sorry,” he booms.  He’s carrying a short crate that has a lantern, a jug of water, a bottle of whiskey, and some jerky. He sets the crate down on the desk.  He puts the water jug next to your feet, and he lingers.  He squats down and caresses your cheek with his knuckle. You smell his sweat and you smell he’s been drinking. His lips part as he looks at you, and you try to ignore the sparkle in his eyes in the lamp light. He’s sweaty, and his masculine smell makes you tingle. He offers you some jerky with a little smile but you say, “no thank you.” 

“Those manners,” he whispers with a smile. His mustache twitches charmingly. He takes off his boots and sits next to you on the wall and his large hand engulfs your thigh. He wets his lips and looks at you. “What are we gonna do?” he asks softly. 

“Just tell me what you want,” you whine. 

He shakes his head no. “I wanna know what you want.” 

“I wanna live, I wanna not be gang banged, I want my family back, I want-” you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he gets up on his knees and forces you into a consoling embrace. You cry into his shirt and he says “Shhhhh, shhhhhh.” He pats your head. “You’re not gonna get gang banged if you’re mine, I promise.” 

The most unsettling mix of relief and dread floods your upper body.  Your lower body, meanwhile, is all warmth and tingling. Oh, god. He hugs you into his hair which smells like cigarettes, campfire, and something sour. “C’mere,” he says, and uses your hair to pull your head back slightly, gently. Enough to look at your face.

----

He dips his head, and at first all you can do is watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows.  But then his face drifts toward yours, and you tense in anticipation. He closes his eyes and kisses you. His lips are plush and gentle.  Your lips remain firm and still until they don’t. When his tongue brushes the seam of your lips, they let him in.  Your mouths are connected for a good thirty seconds before he breaks the kiss and looks at you.  Then he wraps his hands around your back and lifts you up onto your knees so you’re both kneeling on the cold concrete as he licks into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you tight and attacks your mouth with his again, with more fervor this time, his suction making your lips tingle. 

His cock hardens against you. He breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath against the side of your mouth. He grabs your ass and pulls you into him, pressing his hardness into you.  He sighs. 

Then he lets go of your ass and his hands come between you. He urgently unbuttons and unzips your jeans, then pulls them down.  You feel like there’s no stopping what’s about to happen, so you obediently take them off as he removes his own without taking his eyes off you. “Those too,” he nods at your panties. As you remove them, the damp cotton is cool against your inner thigh and you realize how wet you are. Warmth rushes to your face.  

----

“C’mere, angel,” he whispers, and he sits down in his boxers.  He pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him, hovering, at first. He reaches between your legs and groans as his fingers meet your wetness.  He gazes at you with wonder in his eyes. “Beautiful girl.” He looks down and watches his hand as he slides his fingers through your folds, front and back.  His strong chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.  He pulls you by the ass, grinding your crotch into the massive tent in his boxers and the contact makes you twitch.  “Fuck,” he sighs when your loins are pressed up against each other. He makes space to get his cock out and you try not to stare. It’s thick. Suddenly, you’re salivating.  You wet your lips and he notices. 

“Lemme put it here, first,” he says softly and rubs your cunt. “Okay?” He nods for you as he positions you over his cock and notches himself for entry. He’s waiting for your go-ahead like it means something. You offer an almost imperceptible nod, then he pulls you down hard on his cock with a groan.  You gasp as his girth parts your walls.  

“Then—ohhh—then ya can suck it,” he says. He lifts his hips.  “Maybe.” He moves you on his cock. “Shit this feels good.” He holds you close and wraps an arm around you. He moves his hips forward from the wall with a sharp thrust up into you. He gets enough space to lean back a little and pull you against his chest for leverage, with enough clearance to fuck up into you. “Yeah, ohh shit.”  As your body adjusts to his girth, your eyes close in pleasure.  His thrusts are sharp and deep.  He’s strong, so strong the way he holds you. Tension knots in your gut as his girth fills you up over and over. 

“Ride it, baby. C’mere.” He sits back down flatter against the wall again and manhandles you on his cock. “C’mon, baby.” You might as well get something out of it, so you move your hips and get close enough to him to grind your clit into his pelvis. “Aww, yeah,” he breathes, “Yeahh, like that.” He reaches for your head. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he whispers, then pulls your face into his again.  His hips rock in rhythm with yours as he fills your mouth with his tongue. 

You accidentally hum “Mmm” into his mouth. 

He breaks the kiss to say “oh you like it, huh,” pounding into you a little harder. “You like this big cock.”  Each time he fills you, you’re less and less ready for this to end. “That’s good,” he rubs his nose against your temple. “gonna get a lot of it.” He holds the back of your head and reads your eyes in the dim lamp light then kisses you again. You break the kiss with a moan, feeling yourself on the edge. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Shit yeah,” He puts both his hands on your ass and moves you on his cock, determined to fill you with every smidgen of him. 

You whimper at the stretch, the sheer fullness. 

“You’re there,” he says. “C’mon, baby,” his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you, filling you like you thought you might never be filled, “C’mon, angel. C’mon.”  The tension snaps and you groan as your cunt spasms around his cock. “Ohhh, yeahhh, yeahhh,” Tommy says, “shit, yeah.” Your body jerks into his. “Fuckin’ beautiful."

He slows you down and sucks in a deep breath as you keep spasming. “Shit,” he sighs. He stops moving and tries to compose himself. He’s trying not to come. He pulls you off before you’re finished coming. You look at him and he’s biting his lip, his eyes are smiling,  his hand is wrapped around his cock. “Now suck it for me.” He reaches up and his huge hand engulfs the back of your head. “Now,” he says more urgently.  He pulls down and you oblige, reeling in aftershocks and shame. 

You take his tip in your mouth and his hips lift as you suck it.  He forces your head down on his cock and you gag on it. “Ohh, shit.” He pulls your head down harder then explodes against the back of your throat with a long, drawn out sigh of relief.  His hot spend paints the back of your throat.  You swallow it then let him slide out of your mouth. 

—--

Tommy catches his breath for a moment, then puts his dick away and gets up to put on his pants.  It feels abrupt, but you’re not sure what you expected.  Surely not pillow talk. He towers over you as he zips up.  You look up at him and he tilts his head, looking at you affectionately.  Then his face changes. 

“Dumb slut.” 

Your stomach drops as he walks away. 

-------

--------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! You can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for updates.

Joel and Tommy are not in touch. When they cross paths it will have been a long time since they saw each other.

This reader will be Tommy's and he'll gain some power in the group.

[overly-dramatic-artist]

On the Horizon - prologue

Hello friends! As per the voice of the people, the Wild West au is being written into a fic! I’m still building the world and some plot details, but here is a small little appetizer of a prologue! Thank you for all of the love and enthusiasm that you have shared with me about this au!

The memories of this town remain, like the grains of desert sand caught in the folds of leather boots and saddles. Nothing truly leaves this place. The plant may be plucked, but the roots that get ripped by the stubborn ground are trapped, not unlike the years spent in innocence under the scorching sun and surrounded by the unforgiving mountain range.

You pull on the reign, effectively halting the steed hauling your small wagon you sit upon, as you see the more defined structures of Aurora Springs come into view against the glowing sunlight that sinks lower against the purple mountains. There’s an ache in your chest, a tightness in your lungs as you breathe in the dry air, remnants of your past rushing forward like a dust storm, unyielding as the laughter of childhood wonder and honeyed words of your mother embrace your subconscious.

Her final letter sits in the tight space between your chemise and vest, over your heart and folded just as it had remained for the past 6 years.

And on the opposite side against your hip is your father’s holster and pistol, tucked discreetly into a deep pocket of your skirt.

A letter of love. An object of protection.

The only pieces you had left of your parents that had driven you to abandon the notion of mercy.

You had become a product of this desert, unrelenting and unforgiving.

………..

Some things in life never change. The out of tune piano across the bar. The shattered glass window that has been long since in need of repair. The suede leather chaps Sun had worn for years. The casual look of disdain on his lunar counterpart’s face as patrons yap and jabber. And of course, the unfounded and quite frankly stupid belief of man that this time for sure he will win.

With a round of loud groans and laughs, Sun collects his winnings from the table, much to the anger of the drunk man who had refused to fold before losing everything.

“So sorry, gentlemen, looks like I win again,” the sunny automaton says, the faux-sympathy of his synthetic voice further riling his red-faced opponents.

The man with the heavily oiled mustache and britches two sizes too short frowns, spits at the floor and stands with a screech from his chair.

“You been counting the cards! Ain’t right for a cheater to win.”

“Come now, good sir, I renounce rule-breaking. If you truly thought me a cheat, you shouldn’t have played the game.” Sun tilts his grin towards the man before slowly standing to his impressive height, one hand cradling over the grip of the pistol in his leather holster. “But I suppose we could always settle this like proper men…?”

The glint of the low bar-lighting on the silver gun that hits the angered man’s eye is enough of an answer, and the loser leaves in a huff, stomping away from the table.

Not long after settling all bets and debts, the lunar and solar automatons leave, saddling up their horses roped in the stalls.

”No need wasting a gunshot for the sake of petty cash,” the dark one says, his red eyes reflecting on the black rim of his hat, stomping the last embers of his cigar into the ground.

“You of all should know I don’t take well to being called something so despicable as a cheater,” Sun playfully shoots back. “Besides, I could get a couple rounds more with what I won.”

Moon clicks his teeth at his partner, adjusting the rifle slung over his back before signaling with the reins for Astraea to start moving. The horse brays, leading Calliope to follow.

As usual, the lunar bot remains silent for the ride through town, keeping his gaze forward. Sun was good at filling the silence, or at the very least, making the pair seem slightly less intimidating to onlookers. Their line of work came with that deadly connotation, and they lived up to their titles, but a bit of charm and camaraderie was useful for keeping the townsfolk in good favor. A nod to the miners coming back from the canyons, a wink at the courtesans on the corner.

Passing one of the bulletin boards by town hall, Moon pulls the reins to a halt with a hum. Sun looks where his partner is fixing his eyes, an identical smile pulling his lips. On the rotting wood bulletin is a newly pinned poster. A wanted poster. With an intriguingly high priced bounty wanted alive.

“I was looking forward to a weekend fixing that fence in the east pasture…” Sun says, pulling the poster down, letting his fingers trace over the details of the pretty face printed in ink, “…but I can’t pass up such an offer.”

His lunar lover laughs with a shake of his head.

“Does it say where they last were?”

“Stormridge, headed west.” Sun passes the paper to Moon. “Could already be here in town.”

The red-eyed bot hums, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it with the exposed wire on his wrist with a hiss. He lets his systems take in the smoke, the tarry buildup caressing the roughness within his casing. With an artificial exhale, he looks back at his partner.

“I suppose we should go get those rounds then.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Ahhhhhhhh!!! I hope that is enticing and intriguing for a beginning!

And for anyone who hasn’t seen this au before, here are some of my sketches for it 💖

[spacesapphi]

HES Trio Headcanons (the third)

That's right guys, another one (my brain is rotted). These three live in my head rent free

some the Shane ones are sad again, sorry

Elliott

-had a pet hermit crab as a kid, he's always been a friend of the crabs!

- prefers fancy, decorative candles to scented ones. The prettier the better!

- trying his best to make his room look like Howls from Howls Moving Castle. That clutter of beautiful trinkets is exactly what he wants for a setup

- loves wearing his hair in braids, but is terrible at doing braids on himself. He usually asks Leah

- Willy is like a father to him. His bio father was not a kind man, and Willy is everything he wished his father could be and more

- Willy taught him how to fish too, and he's actually pretty good at it!

- very into a "method acting" style of writing, as in he'll live like a character he's trying to write for a while until he feels like he can realistically interpret them in his writing

- faked a British accent for about a month in middle school because he thought it sounded very sophisticated and artsy

Harvey

- won't tell anyone, but he enjoys little Saturday morning cartoons now and then. It reminds him of the moments of joy he felt when he was little and he cherishes that

- tried to shave off his mustache once and seeing how he looked without it scared him so bad he vowed not to do it again. It looks so bad 😭💔

- wears that Ebenezer scrooge lookin nightgown and cap unironically, swears that it helps him sleep better

- lactose intolerant and has a gluten allergy. He doesn't like cheese and baked goods because of it, they make him really sick

- that being said, if u made/bought him gluten free stuff he would act like he owes his life to you

- once he was at the library at the same time Penny was tutoring the kids. It was during free reading time and Vincent told him he looked like a character in the book he was reading. It was Geronimo Stilton. Harvey has still not recovered from that

- really wanted siblings as a little kid but never had them, so he created an imaginary friend for himself and pretended to go on aviation missions with them

- has a lil gap between his front teeth, he gets a bit shy about it, but it's cute when he smiles and you can see it

Shane

- I changed my height headcanon, bro is 5'3 now

- his ENTIRE family is very short, his mom and Marnie are 5'0. Jas' parents were tall though so once she's older she's absolutely towering over Marnie and Shane

- had very long hair before taking in Jas. For many reasons, especially maintenance, he's kept it short since adopting her

- Him stealing food from Joja is a habit built from necessity, from the time before he moved back in with Marnie. He got to the point financially that he was often stealing food for him and Jas, because he was often forced to choose between groceries and paying rent.

- he's not a vegetarian, but he refuses to eat chicken specifically. Everytime he tries, he just can't bring himself to do it. He loves chickens too much

- even then, he still ate very little. Stealing was risky and he wanted to make sure Jas was given what she needed first. He always had her eat first, and would eat whatever she didn't, like crusts or veggies she didn't like. The night he moved back in with Marnie was the first time he had an actual meal in about a year

- After he starts recovery, he tries to be better friends with Penny given that she's Jas' teacher. She isn't very interested in being close with him, but he still tries to be friendly

- has an arsenal of dad jokes at the ready at any given moment, you are not prepared for how corny this man gets

- forever salty that LEWIS of all people is beating him on the junimo kart leaderboards

- He and Sam have a workplace besties kinda relationship. They still stay pretty good friends after Joja closes, Shane goes to all of his bands shows to show support

- the only festivals he really cares about are the egg festival, luau and Stardew valley fair. The rest he'll go to because it makes Jas and Marnie happy, but those three he has a passion for

[merowkittie]

Art Therapist!Reader x Task Force 141

Summary: Today we’ll get to look at the first client, John Price.

Notes: I should comment that I’m not sure if I want this to go in a platonic route or a romantic way so we’ll see from here. Might make the readers decide. <3

I hope i capture all of the boys good, because I’m still fairly new writing for the cod men.. sorry if they’re very ooc </3

Oh boy.. writing this took a minute and I’m so not impressed with this one but trust.. this will get better :)

Do reblog, like, and comment to lmk what you think about this!

Thank you, sweets! 🎀

Part One. Client One: John Price.

The clack of your heels were heard through the halls as you smiled brightly, excited to get to know one of your new clients.

You had two sheets on a clipboard in your arms, a notepad in the other and a tote bag in your left arm.

You had some things you’d like to discuss with him, comforts, favorite snacks and tea. These are important you know! You always got the jitters when you had a new client.

Walking into your small office you sat your bag down on the side of your chair, and placed the clipboard and notepad neatly on your desk.

A sigh left your mouth and you rolled your neck around, trying to crack it and find relief.

“Mm.. ok, where to start..?” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at your bag and nodded.

Starting to unload everything you put your thermal cup filled with peppermint tea on your desk, a sketchbook, coloring book, and coloring pencils neatly into a pile.

Next you pressed the button on your work phone to hear all of your new voice mails and put lights on, in the dimly lit room.

You had two lamps that brightened the room with a nice yellow hue and a flower lamp on your desk that shined a pink light.

“Ms. Kate left a voice message, it says, ‘Good morning, you said 9:30 but we’ll be there a bit earlier than that. He’s adamant about being early to things. John is a very— He’s a man that likes to stay on the move you know? Keep that in mind. He likes his hands full. Anyways, see you around 9:20– 25. Thank you, Again.’ —”

You laughed at her comment, knowing well you like to have your hands full too and can’t stay doing nothing for too long.

The time on your clock stated 9:15, so they’d be here soon. There wasn’t much else you needed to set up in your cozy office but you decided to fluff out the pillows on the couch across from your desk and prep your notes.

Finally, after you killed some time drawing in your sketchbook you heard a knock on your door. There was quiet chatter.

“Come in please!” You called out, closing your sketchbook and looking up towards the door.

In walked in who you assumed was Kate Laswell and behind her was a handsome gruff looking man. He was very well built, a nice beard and mustache and he looked around the same age as the woman. He also had a nice ass but you shook your head away from those thoughts.

Standing up your walked around your desk and grinned widely, you stated your name and then, “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I’m very excited for todays session if you couldn’t tell..”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m hoping this goes smoothly.” The man, who you’re sure is John, smiles at you and nods approvingly.

“Yes, you won’t give her a hard time right?” Kate jokes and he shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.

“She should be worried about Soap. That man is a twat sometimes.” You chuckled along with him and waved your hand dismissing that.

You pointed to the couch and asked them to have a seat so you could talk to them about basics first and grabbed your notepad and a pen, sitting in your chair.

“Before we start, I want to re-introduce myself. My name is y/n, and I’ve been doing art therapy for three years. I have a degree in arts and a degree in counseling/therapy.” You waved your hands around as you talked.

Kate and John nodded at your words as you spoke and they seemed pretty impressed with what you said.

“Kate Laswell, John Price. It’s nice to meet someone enthusiastic like you.”

You smiled at the comment and then let the two settle in on the couch. Tapping your fingers in your desk you spoke again.

“Ok so, I’m sure you may have questions that you wanted to ask personally! Some worries and concerns?” You tilted your head to the side and smiled, “Or would you like me to give you a brief explanation on what I strive to achieve with art therapy?”

“It’s be nice if you explained it better.. I feel like this is too childish for a man like me.” John commented.

“Mhm, I understand what you mean. A lot of people believe that but it’s all about what works for YOU. Art is a form of expression that anyone can use. Why not incorporate that into helping others and finding yourself too, Hm?” You aided.

It was a bit silent in the room after what you said. John nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest and pursed his lips, turning to face Kate.

“I like you. Hopefully the boys will too. God knows we need this type of energy with the line of work we’re involved in.” Kate sighs, “I’ll take my leave, and be back around.. 10:30?”

“Yes! 10:30 or you can come around 10:25. Either works for me, If it works for you,” You got up and extended your hand, “Thank you, by the way. I live my life as optimistic as possible and like to bring that into the workplace.”

Kate nods and shakes your hand. Her hold is firm and strong, she’s a kind woman.

“John, play nice.” She said, facing the older man, before leaving and giving you a smile.

After she left you looked at Price and clapped your hands together.

“Well, now I have some personal questions for you. These are about boundaries but I hope you do know we might have to cross them once in a while ok?” You sat on top of your desk this time moving your notepad and pen onto your lap.

John folded his hands on his lap and looked at you in your eyes. It was silent for a moment yet again, though you didn’t mind. If he needed time to formulate his words you’d give him all the time in the world.

He opened his mouth then closed it, with a huff he said, “There’s not many boundaries I have, I’m sure you’re supposed to start slow when doing these sessions, yea?” you nodded, “So I believe you won’t be asking too much about me yet, so when the time comes.. I’ll be somewhat of an open book.”

He smiled at you slightly, tight lipped and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.

You took a breath in, then let it out. Humming at his words you write down on your note pad:

‘Price. Little to no boundaries at all. Open book maybe by the third sesh.’

His eyes watch your fingers as you’re writing, he’s a bit tense, not really knowing what to do. He can already imagine Simon being worse than he is right now.

“Ok so! I do have a question that Ms.Kate didn’t really specify, and I forgot to ask. Is there a problem that’s bugging any of you? Or is this just to maintain a good mind set— or close to an ok mind set?” You put your hands out, trying to elaborate in a more understanding way, “For example, keeping your anger in check, having an outlet to let out heavy emotional burdens.. those types of things?”

John ran his fingers through his beard and tapped his foot on the ground, thinking on what you said. He didn’t exactly have any thing bugging him, he’s been working in the military for well around 18+ years and that’ll get you used to the atrocities you see.

“I’m pretty sure Kate had the latter in mind when doing these sessions. I know I don’t have much bugging me, I’m about ready to retire sometimes,” he joked with a laugh, “It’d be nice to have an outlet from what we do every now and then.”

You laughed with him and nodded your head. His words resonated well with you. Anyone knew that working in the military/army would drain you. Could leave you mentally unwell after years.

So you strived to understand and learn each and every one of these men. To hopefully be able to aid them in different, helpful ways.

“Well, im glad you think so! Now, I actually have something I want you to do today. It’s very simple.”

Pulling out a coloring book and some color pencils, you held them out in front of you, “So, we won’t be doing anything too big— yet! I have a coloring book here that goes based off of mood. It’s also a journal. I want you to write in this everyday, starting today, ok?”

John raised his brows at you and you raised yours back. He scratched his beard and looked down at the coloring book with different mood faces on it. He took a copy of one book and a pack of coloring pencils you offered after.

You opened up the book to the first page and pointed to the happy face. Underneath the face were lines and a quote that asks you why you were feeling the emotion you were feeling.

“Currently I’m feeling happy, I’ll take a yellow pencil and color that face in.” You explained simply, “I’m feeling this way because I’ve had my favorite tea, my cat cuddled with me this morning, and I’m looking forward to my new clients.”

Once you finished you turned the book around and showed John. “That’s all you have to do. Nothing too long, but if you prefer to do that I don’t mind. Just don’t give me a word or two. I want one to three sentences.”

You watched as he began to do what you did. He colored in the neutral face with a brown colored pencil and underneath he wrote two sentences explaining why he felt that way.

For the rest of your session you introduced yourself more and had him give you tid bits about his life and line of work. In your mind you wanted to have this space be as personal but comfortable as possible.

You talked a bit about your life as well, giving him insight into your day to day life and how your other sessions go sometimes without disclosing private information about your other clients.

Soon enough the time came to when he had to leave and your session ended.

As Kate waited by the door, you put your hand out towards John, “I hope to see that book filled out. If anything is bothering you after today, write it down and we can go over it, yea?” He nodded his head shaking your hand, and let out a gruff ‘yes’.

He left with that and you were alone in your office thinking over this mornings events. It was slow paced and simple. You didn’t like unpacking a lot of information on the first day. Over time they’d get more comfortable and the art part of this would help them express how they felt without speaking. Actions are always far bigger than words.

You cracked your knuckles and went back to your chair, looking through your schedule planner, tomorrow you’d have a man by the name of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Huh, what a name.

Tag list: @speckledemerald @mxtokko

If you want to be notified when more parts of this series comes out please lmk and I will add you to the tag list <3

[rosedpetal]

Over Again

Summary: You tried to run from him, but he wasn't about to allow that.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word count: 1k

Author's note: this is a repost.

Warnings: smut, imbalance relationship dynamics, all that fun stuff.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Shit.

You mumbled under your breath, feeling your eyes water and a strangled sob leave your throat. Your back hit the cold bathroom wall, and you tried your hardest to inhale and exhale, the mechanical act of breathing seeming too hard to do in the moment.

The two red lines in the pregnancy test made you know your life was never going to be the same again.

You lived with your parents. You were drowning in college debts (which was how you ended up in this whole mess). You were pretty sure you couldn't afford to buy diapers and formula for at least the next fifteen years.

Your cries got louder, and you squeezed the plastic test in your palm, as if it could make everything go away.

It wouldn't.

With your arms crossed over your chest and fidgeting with your leg anxiously, sunglasses to attempt to cover your face and a flowery sundress, you stood in the line to enter the shady clinic that Betty gave you the address to.

"The father left?" a sudden low male voice spoke behind you, and you shrieked.

You turned to look at him, fear rushing through your spine.

Lloyd looked too good for his own good in one of his stupid polo shirts, the creepy grin under the ugly mustache that you grew to love when it rubbed your most intimate parts adorning his sculpted face.

The few women in front of you were too aggravated by their own little problems to acknowledge the commotion you made.

"Lloyd, I-I can explain." You gulped. "I'm just here waiting for a friend, I-"

"Shut the fuck up, sunshine. You're a terrible liar." He mocked you, eyeing like a stalker do to its prey. "You're not showing yet. Little Hansen's already giving you hell?"

You cringed when he said that, a wave of nausea threatening to spill the contents of your breakfast.

"How did you...?"

Before you could say anything more, Lloyd roughly yanked you by your arm, shoving you to the backseat of his expensive car. The driver rolled the partition up, giving you two privacy.

"You know, sunshine, you could've come to me. But you chose to go behind my back, and that I can't forgive."

"Lloyd-"

"I told you to shut the fuck up." His blue eyes darkened, the gaze of lust and anger weighing on you like a thousand pounds. "Now, you're going to be a big girl and explain with words why on the damn earth you were going to have an abortion. Now."

Your tears fell freely on your face and you felt his fingers on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm so so sorry." You broke, just the way he loved. "I didn't wanna be a burden."

Lloyd gently caressed your face with the back of his hand, wiping your tears away his thumb.

"I was willing to do everything for you, sunshine. Pay your student debt, date you. Maybe put a ring on your finger. You just disappeared on me. You broke my heart." He sighed, resting his forehead on yours.

Things weren't supposed to go this way. Lloyd was just your sugar daddy. He treated you like a dumb little thing.

Of course, he did spoil the hell out of you. He was great in bed too. In fact, that's why you stayed so long and came back to him all the damn time.

But two years into this dangerous dance you and him waltzed to were becoming too much. Lloyd would never give you anything more than a few bank checks, Tiffany threats and the best sex a woman could dream of. Other than that, he'd never respect you.

Never let you be your own person, never let you go. So you had to run away.

"Tell me, sunshine..." Caging you with an arm thrown over your shoulder and sliding down his hand under the hem of your dress, reaching to where you needed him more, he asked: "Have I not been giving you enough?"

"You'll never love anyone, Lloyd. Not even your own child." You whispered, heart pacing faster under his sweet gaze. You hated the way he gave you butterflies. You shouldn't want his attention.

But you needed it so bad.

"Baby, you're out of your damn mind if you think I don't absolutely adore you, mon chérie." His mustache tickled the side of your face. "I told you I'd take care of you. Stop being so damn stupid and allow me to do so."

You barely noticed when he pushed your panties to the side, his index finger coating your wetness. You whimpered when he entered you in an embarrassing easy way.

"Lloyd..."

"Tell me you don't need this, and I'll walk away."

You knew him too well to know he was lying. He'd never do that. He was too dark, too deranged, too selfish to do anything that wasn't going to benefit him in the long run.

"Oh!" He curled his finger inside you. The wet sounds coming from your pussy were driving him insane.

"You're always so responsive for me, baby." He purred on your ear. "Makes me so fucking hard."

"Yes! Yes! Just like that, fuck!" You cussed through your teeth, feeling the butterflies pressing into your belly. You screamed and your pussy gushed, soaking Lloyd's hand, giving to him so sweetly that he almost came in his pants. He rode your high to the point of overstimulation, and you desperately pried his grip away from you, breathless.

"You can't leave me, sunshine. I won't let you." He kissed your cheek, licking the salty tears. "I'm going to put a diamond ring on your finger, and you're gonna behave like an obedient little wife. If you do, I can even let you entertain the idea of working."

"Lloyd..." You mumbled, numbed out from pleasure.

"Don't sleep on me yet, baby. You have to take care of me now." He demanded, putting your hand inside his pants.

Then he kissed you. Over and over again.