#table top assets

[willczek-art]

Remember this concept from a while back? Here's how it ended up looking! :D

Way less elements actually got done, but seeing how far away this is from my drawing comfort zone I'm more than happy with this result ;P

[makiokuta]

I've released the second free, fullbody character to my patreon! You can see the other one over here as well. All future characters will be under paid tiers, details on the post.

[churipu]

"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it

note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.

"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.

"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."

as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.

your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.

"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."

when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."

the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"

gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.

he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.

marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."

marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."

it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.

"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.

"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.

marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."

gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."

marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.

you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"

marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."

"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."

and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."

sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.

with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.

toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).

today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.

"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.

as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.

"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."

fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.

like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."

toji sighs, "five more minutes."

he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.

"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.

so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.

"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.

"shut up, mama."

you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.

"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."

oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."

fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"

"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."

fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.

you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."

"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."

toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.

hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.

"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."

nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.

yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"

you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.

"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.

"i don't care, shut up, mama!"

that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.

you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.

"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"

hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"

again hoshi nods her head.

"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.

hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."

you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."

"okay, mama. i love you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[moonlightwritingf1]

Unspoken Desires | LN4

🎀 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N had been friends for some time, having met through mutual friends. Lando had been attracted to Y/N from the moment they met, and his admiration for her only grew over time—particularly for her breasts. He thought no one knew about his fixation, but Y/N had figured it out. Once she realized Lando's obsession, she started wearing more revealing tops whenever she knew they would be in the same place. One night, when they ended up alone, Y/N began teasing Lando with her breasts. It was then that she confessed she knew about his attraction.

🎀 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🎀 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.8k

🎀 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Lando shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to avert his gaze as Y/N walked into the room. She had chosen one of those tops today—the kind that seemed designed to test the limits of modesty. The fabric clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination, and he could feel his pulse quicken as his eyes instinctively drifted downward.

Her boobs. He swallowed hard, cursing himself for being so obvious. Focus, Lando. Just focus. But it was no use. Every time she moved, the material stretched, teasing him with glimpses of what lay beneath. He wondered if she noticed his ogling. Surely not. He prided himself on being discreet, on making sure his admiration stayed hidden behind a veil of casual indifference.

Y/N sat down across from him, crossing her legs in a way that made the hem of her skirt ride up just enough to keep him guessing. "Hey," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. "You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind."

"Uh, nothing," he stammered, quickly glancing away. "Just… just thinking about work, I guess."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Work? Really? Because you’ve been staring at my chest for the past five minutes."

His face flushed instantly. "What? No! I wasn’t—"

Y/N leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. The movement caused her top to dip slightly, revealing just enough to make his breath hitch. "Relax," she said, her tone light but laced with something deeper. "It’s not a crime to appreciate a good pair of… assets."

Lando felt his throat go dry. Was she messing with him? Testing him? Or was she really this nonchalant about it? Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her confidence was intoxicating, and the way she toyed with him made it impossible to think straight.

"I… uh… I wasn’t staring," he mumbled, though the words lacked any real conviction.

She chuckled softly, leaning back in her chair. "Sure you weren’t. And I suppose you haven’t spent every night since we met fantasizing about them either?"

His jaw dropped. "How—how do you know that?"

Y/N’s smile widened, and she tilted her head ever so slightly. "Let’s just say I’m observant. And you’re not exactly subtle, Lando."

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he felt heat rising to his cheeks, his heart pounding in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she knew. And instead of being freaked out or angry, she was… playful. Teasing.

"Listen," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It’s okay. You don’t have to hide it anymore."

Lando blinked, unsure if he was hearing her right. "I don’t?"

"No," she replied, her tone confident yet inviting. "In fact, I kinda like it. It means you’re paying attention."

Her words sent a jolt through him, and he felt his resolve slipping. There was something in her demeanor, in the way she held herself, that made him want to lean in, to close the space between them. But he hesitated, unsure of how far she was willing to take this.

"Look," she continued, her hand reaching out to gently brush against his. "Why don’t we stop pretending? You want me, and I… well, I want you too."

Her admission hung in the air between them, heavy and electric. Lando’s mind raced. This was insane. They were friends. They had always been friends. But now, with her so close, her touch so warm, the lines blurred.

"Y/N," he began, his voice shaky. "Are you sure about this?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood up and rounded the table, her movements slow and deliberate. When she reached him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her fingers tracing small circles against his skin. "Positive," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

Lando shivered at her nearness, his body responding instinctively. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he was afraid—afraid of ruining whatever this was, afraid of pushing too far.

"Don’t overthink it," she whispered, her lips brushing against his earlobe. "Just let yourself feel."

And then, without warning, she stepped back slightly and pulled her top over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts were exposed now, ripe and full, the pale curve of her nipples begging to be touched. Lando’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes fixated on her form.

"Y/N…" he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She smiled again, stepping closer until her hips were pressed against his lap. "Go ahead," she urged, her hands moving to guide his own. "Touch them. Adore them. Let me feel how much you’ve wanted this."

Y/N’s fingers curled around Lando’s wrists, her grip firm yet gentle, guiding his hands toward her breasts. His palms were sweaty, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through his chest. He wanted to pull away, to tell her he couldn’t do this, but the weight of her confidence and the undeniable thrill of finally being allowed to touch her paralyzed him.

Her skin was so soft.

His fingertips brushed against the underside of her breast, and she let out a small, breathy moan that sent a shiver down his spine. She didn’t stop him, didn’t scold him for moving too slowly. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her head tilting slightly as if she were savoring the sensation.

“Lando…” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. “You’ve been dreaming about this for so long, haven’t you? Don’t hold back now.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and nodded dumbly. Her nipple grazed against his palm, and he almost jerked his hand away in shock. But she tightened her grip on his wrist, anchoring him in place.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Feel how perfect they are. Tell me what you think.”

His mouth moved, but no words came out. All he could do was stare at her chest, at the way her breasts jiggled ever so slightly with every movement, at the rosy tips that seemed to perk up under his hesitant touch. He didn’t know what to say, how to articulate the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. Desire, guilt, disbelief—it all crashed together in his mind, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he stammered finally, his voice cracking.

She chuckled softly, a sound that was both comforting and intoxicating. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said, her tone warm and inviting. “Just show me how much you’ve wanted this. Show me how much you’ve thought about my body when you’re alone.”

Her words were a dare, a challenge, and Lando found himself unable to resist. With a quiet groan, he cupped her breast fully in his hand, his fingers tightening instinctively as if afraid she might slip away. The feel of her weight in his palm was surreal, something he had fantasized about countless times but never dared to believe could be real.

She was real.

He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, the rapid flutter of her heartbeat as it pressed against his palm. And then there was the taste of her name on his tongue, the way it rolled out of his mouth as if it belonged there.

“Y/N…” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.

She rewarded him with another soft moan, her eyes fluttering closed as she pressed herself more firmly against his hand. “Yes, that’s it,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Touch me, Lando. Let me feel how much you’ve wanted this.”

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure. Every stroke of his fingers against her skin felt like a spark igniting aflame within him. His other hand rose tentatively, mirroring the movements of the first, until both of her breasts were cradled in his palms. He kneaded them gently at first, marveling at their softness, their weight, the way they filled his hands perfectly.

And then, without warning, his thumbs flicked over her nipples, catching them between his fingers and rolling them teasingly. Y/N arched her back immediately, her head falling backward as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Oh…” she cried out, her voice trembling with desire. “Lando, yes… just like that.”

He could feel her pulse quickening beneath his fingertips, her body reacting to his touch in a way that made his own arousal impossible to ignore. His cock twitched against the fabric of his pants, aching for release, but he couldn’t tear his focus away from the woman in front of him.

Her breasts were even more magnificent up close, their pale perfection streaked with the faintest blush of pink. He marveled at the way her nipples hardened under his touch, the way they seemed to beg for more attention. And when his fingers circled them again, pressing lightly before releasing, she whimpered softly, her hips shifting against him.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice breathless and urgent. “Please, Lando… I need more.”

Her desperation sent a surge of triumph coursing through him. For so long, he had been the one craving, the one yearning for her attention. Now, she was the one begging, and the power of it was intoxicating.

With renewed confidence, he changed his technique, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts more firmly. His thumbs dragged slowly across her nipples, teasing them until they stood proudly, begging for more. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as she pressed herself closer to him.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly. “Touch me harder, Lando. I want to feel how much you’ve wanted this.”

Her words were a command, and Lando obeyed without hesitation. He pinched her nipples between his fingers, twisting them gently but firmly, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. She bucked her hips against his lap, grinding against him in a way that left no doubt about her arousal.

“Ah! Yes!” she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. “God, Lando… I knew you had it in you.”

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. His own need was growing unbearable, his cock straining against his zipper as he continued to explore her body. Each moan, each shudder of her body against his, only served to fuel his desire further.

“Y/N…” he muttered again, his voice hoarse with longing. “I can’t… I can’t take much more of this.”

She opened her eyes, her gaze smoldering as she looked down at him. “Then don’t,” she said simply, her tone daring him to push further. “Take what you want, Lando. Stop holding back.”

Y/N smirked, her eyes locking onto his as she slowly slid off the couch, her movements deliberate and confident. She knew exactly what she was doing. Lando watched her with wide eyes, his breath hitching as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her face level with his crotch. The air between them thickened, charged with unspoken desire that neither could deny any longer.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, though there was no real question behind it. He knew exactly what she was doing.

“What do you think I’m doing?” she replied, her tone playful but laced with something deeper—something that made his heart pound harder in his chest.

Her lips curled into a wicked smile as she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers brushing against his skin as she pulled it down slowly, deliberately. His cock twitched at the sensation, already hard and pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Y/N hummed softly, a sound that sent shivers down his spine, as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and tugged them down just enough to free his aching erection.

“You’re so eager,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing as she wrapped her hand around his length, giving it a slow, firm stroke. “I can feel how badly you want this.”

Lando groaned, his head falling back against the couch as her touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. “God, Y/N…” he muttered, his voice strangled as he tried to hold himself together. “You have no idea.”

She laughed softly, a sound that made his stomach tighten with need. “Oh, I think I do,” she said, her tone dripping with confidence. “I think I know exactly how much you’ve been dreaming about this.”

Before he could respond, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against the tip of his cock, teasing him mercilessly. Lando’s hips jerked involuntarily, his hands fisting in the fabric of the couch as he fought to stay still. “Please…” he begged, his voice cracking. “Don’t tease me like this.”

“Hmm, but I thought you liked it when I tease you,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes as she took him into her mouth, her warm, wet tongue swirling around the head of his dick before sliding down his length.

Lando groaned loudly, his body arching off the couch as her mouth worked its magic on him. She sucked gently at first, her lips tight around him as she bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper with each movement. Her hair fell around her face like a curtain, framing her in a way that made her look even more irresistible. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tried to steady himself. “You’re killing me…”

She pulled off him with a pop, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she looked up at him. “Am I now?” she teased, running her tongue along her lips as if savoring the taste of him. “Well, maybe I don’t want to kill you just yet.”

With that, she shifted her position, kneeling up slightly as she cupped her breasts in her hands, pushing them together to create a perfect shelf for his cock. Lando’s eyes widened as he realized what she intended to do, his breath catching in his throat as she guided the tip of his dick between her cleavage.

“Do you like that?” she asked, her voice sultry as she began to rock her shoulders, using her tits to fuck him. “Do you like feeling my boobs wrapped around your cock?”

“Yes,” he choked out, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he struggled to stay upright. “God, yes…”

Y/N continued to move, her breasts slick with the saliva from her mouth as she pressed them tightly around him, squeezing him with each thrust. Lando’s vision blurred with pleasure, his whole body trembling as she worked him over, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re so good at this,” he managed to pant, his voice hoarse with need. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me…”

She grinned wickedly, her eyes locking onto his as she quickened her pace, her tits bouncing with every movement. “Believe it,” she said, her tone sharp and commanding. “And don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”

Lando groaned, his head falling back again as he tried to obey her command, but it was nearly impossible. Her tits felt so good around him, so warm and soft and tight, and the way she moved only made it worse. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, his orgasm threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice strained as he opened his eyes to look at her. “I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

She smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Good,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Because I want you to feel every second of this.”

With that, she tightened her grip on her breasts, forcing them even closer together around his shaft as she rocked her hips, her movements becoming more erratic as she pushed him toward the edge. Lando’s breath came in short, desperate gasps, his body tensing as he felt the climax begin to build.

“I’m close,” he admitted, his voice barely audible as he struggled to hold on. “So close…”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just kept moving, her eyes never leaving his as she drove him closer and closer to the brink. And then, finally, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a loud groan, Lando came, his release spilling out over her breasts as she continued to milk him until every last drop was gone.

Panting, he collapsed back against the couch, his body limp and spent as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. Y/N, meanwhile, sat back on her heels, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as she looked down at him.

“Told you I knew what I was doing,” she said, her tone smug but undeniably sexy.

Lando couldn’t help but laugh weakly, his body still buzzing with pleasure. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice rough. “You definitely did.”

[gaddaboutgriffon]

Super Phantom

Writing prompt #3

Danny reveals his ghost half to his parents and they took it well accepting him. As a result the doctors Fenton then backed out of the weapons deal they had with the GIW and are actively protecting Phantom from them.

The GIW don’t give up even after the anti ecto acts are being repealed and sabotaged the gas tank for Nasty Burger’s grill. This causes the explosion that would Kill Danny’s family and friends there for Jazz’s graduation celebration. Clockwork foresaw of a Dan event happening and froze time to take and de-age Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker and Vallarta. (Clockwork is a jerk and frankly blames Jack and Maddie for making the he portals that caused both Vlad and Danny’s halfa status and a lot more work for him. He is letting those two die.)

Clockwork then sends the Deaged to babies/toddler to different places in the Yong Justice cartoon DC universe. All the kids are liminal and have powers.

Jazz now a 3 year old is sent to Hippallita on Themescira. (Excuse my spelling) liminal powers make her strength on par with Amazons.

Sam, age 1 as well and sent to Giovanni Zattarra. Three year old Zatana gets a younger sister that also has the gift of magic. Especially nature/plant magic.

Tucker I had a hard time deciding but eventually chose Lucius Fox. (If you can think of someone better go ahead and make suggestions.)

Vallarie was Supposed to be sent to Ted Kord, but Lex Luthor was trying to tap into the watchtower’s zeta tubs but accidentally got clockwork’s portal instead. It cased he basket to be dropped instead of gently set down. Startled, two year old Vallarie instinctively activates her ghost tech armor. Now that is a curious unexpected asset Lex will find a way to utilize.

And finally deaged to one year old Danny is sent in a in a basket with a solar system print blanket with a envelope sitting on top. The portal opens and the basket is carefully set on the table with the note. Then clockwork places a folder thick with other papers of to the side. He retreats into the portal closing it behind him just as the apartment door is opening.

Clark Kent has just finished his third week of work at the Daily Planet, the evening patrol and even grocery shopping. Thoughts of the paper he needs to write and turn in the morning are on his mind as he enters his apartment in time to notice a Green glow wink out of existence from his kitchen door. He drops the now forgotten grocery bags when he hears the tiny heartbeat and rushes over to the basket on the table.

A sleeping baby. A baby! Wha- how had anyone. When his brain stops stalling he notices the letter. It reads:

Superman,

The boy’s name is Danny. You are the most likely to survive him learning to use his powers as they emerge. His parents died trying to protect him. It is not safe for him here.

I have already forged the legal documents naming you as his godfather and a cover story in the attached folder. Also three gold coins will be sent to you each month as child support. If anyone else looks at this letter the text will change to simply read that you are the godfather of this recently orphaned boy.

Clockwork.

Clark stood in shock rereading the letter in shock a dozen times. Before Lois snapped him out of it.

“Hey Smallville, it may not be Gotham but even in Metropolis you shouldn’t just leave your door open.” She called as she entered from the hall. Then she noticed the spilled bags of groceries on the floor. And came in. “Are you ok? You may be a klutz but you always pick u- Oh My God, That’s a Baby!”

Well that is enough for tonight. I will add on more later. Wonder how quickly this would grow if I don’t tag anyone? Eh just a few. @bloggerspam @confusedshades @hypewinter @zylev-blog @kizzer55555

[alchemistc]

Part One

Part Two

They make it past the second six months.

It's agonizing. It's wonderful. Tommy wants to scream.

"Why are you calling it your six month anniversary?" Hen asks, with a quirked brow, eyeing them both from across the twelve-top they'd scooped up (and modified under the careful scrutiny of the curmudgeonly bartender Joe) early.

Tommy's glad his hand is under the table. The nervous habit of running a thumb along the underside of his empty ring finger would be the kind of thing Hen notices.

"You don't just get a Mulligan on the first six."

It's been a year and a half since Tommy met Evan Buckley. Over, actually, since Evan had just gone a little insane instead of taking a step back to examine his feelings, at the start. It always makes Tommy wonder exactly how much he'd examined those first days with Eddie. He's heard the story, clips of it, bits and pieces scattered between everyone Evan knows, and he wonders if Evan will ever come to the conclusion that he'd had virtually the same reaction to Eddie, back at the beginning. It's settled, now. They are firm in their friendship, and any attraction that might be there isn't simmering under the surface waiting to blindside Tommy. But he wonders sometimes if Evan won't just bolt up in bed ten years from now to shake Tommy awake and tell him he'd had a crush on Eddie.

Ten years?

Christ.

If Evan ever knew how many times the future popped into his mind like a jump scare, he'd -

They're far past the deadline for annulment. At this point they're at "split the assets before you go". Can't quite talk your way out of a committed relationship six months post-marriage.

Neither one of them has brought it up, and Tommy is getting great at pretending like it's not a scythe shifting closer and closer every time the pendulum swings past him.

Evan tosses a balled up napkin at Hen and sticks out his tongue, and before she can do more than scowl there are five more people flooding through the door behind them to shout congratulations and drop into their seats to gossip.

---

Hiding it becomes a moot point. He's had it in his head this whole time that if it were to get out, it would definitely be Evan's fault.

The universe does enjoy a twist

He'd gotten a jumbled text from Evan mid-flight, and a more coherent one from Eddie when his captain asked him to turn the bird around and land, and he's a bundle of nerves as he spills through the barely open doors of the elevator and spots the rest of the 118 looking concerned off in the corner of the waiting room.

Eddie catches him first. Spots the look on his face and makes a valiant attempt to explain, to soothe his worry, but there's a nurse rounding a corner and all Tommy has gotten to this point is <Buck's being transported to Good Samaritan. He's stable but you should come.>

He's kind of an ass about it. He'll regret it later when she narrows her eyes and reminds him visiting hours have ended. He'll shoot back with the same shit he's gearing himself up for in this moment and they'll reach a detente.

"Evan Buckley. Do you have any new information?"

She eyes the flight suit he hadn't bothered to take off before booking it to his truck. Tilts her gaze behind him, to the 118, and maybe that's what does it. The idea that they're any more family than he is. "We'll inform family immediately with any updates."

Tommy can see Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, but all he's thinking about is the hundreds of moments Evan's smile has left him breathless, all the promises they'd made each other that night with the neon lights of Vegas spurring them on.

"Seeing as I'm his husband, I'd like a full update. Now."

He regrets it the moment the words are out of his mouth. Not just because he's being a complete fucking dickhead about it, either.

The pendulum gets its first taste of blood and swings away again.

---

Evan grins at him. He's bruised and bandaged and high as a kite, and he's so fucking beautiful it nearly takes Tommy out at the knees. Thankfully he's already sitting.

Perched on a chair close enough to the bed that he's annoyed an orderly, a doctor, and two nurses, hand curled over Evan's in the bed, he's just finished confessing he can't keep a secret for shit and Evan is smiling at him.

The rest of the 118 is still waiting outside. He'd let Maddie go first, so it's likely Evan already knew this tidbit, but it doesn't hurt to be honest. Or so he's learning.

"You love me," Evan sing-songs.

Tommy sucks his lips behind his teeth to hide his grin. Blows out a breath. "So you're not upset?"

He looks - momentarily shifty. "Uh - don't be mad."

Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's - okay so you know how we have to update all our medical information every year for the insurance?" Tommy nods. Licks his lips. "Um."

The next sentence is a garbled rush. Tommy gets 'power' and 'just in case' and nothing else. "Say again?"

"I... Uh. I updated my forms."

That paperwork was due about two months after the Vegas trip.

"To... Just in case I was incapacitated, I wanted to make sure..."

"Evan," Tommy presses.

"You have, uh. Power of attorney. And you're listed as next of kin with Maddie. Just. Just in case."

It should freak the hell out of him. It should make him question everything they've been doing, with the open honesty crap, for the last eight months.

"I want a divorce," Tommy says, and then grimaces. "Shit, that's not what I - ." And Evan's grin gets wider. Like he knows. Like he understands. Like everything they've been building and breaking and rebuilding for the last almost two years has actually made him an expert at interpreting Tommy when he doesn't have the right words in the right order.

"Gonna need that ring you've got hidden in your moms music box," Evan says, and then someone is rapping impatiently at the door Tommy shut behind him as he practically shoved past Maddie to get to him. "I get to propose this time." Tommy bites back a choked laugh while half the 118 spill into the room to whisper-yell at them both.

[barleyo]

Build-A-Bride.

Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i can't stop writing broken enji... he's so depressed and lonely i LOVE it ^_^ isn't he just so dreamy? all downtrodden and sad? anyways this is so half-assed, sorry!

Tags: dub-con, forced/arranged marriage (sort of), age gap, mostly plot tbh (minimal smut), brief mentions of dehumanization, breeding, creampie, p in v, size difference, language barrier

Wordcount: 1.8k

Women don't like divorcés. It's a mark of failure. It brings down one's stock value. Enji's mistakes with Rei were numerous. He knew it was for the best, that he had nothing to fight for when she had the papers mailed to him. Why would he argue with her about it? The kids had all grown up and moved out. Their assets were easily separable. She did not ask for much in the split, and even if she did Enji would have given it up without pushing back. 

He was a man defeated. What point would there be in chasing after Rei again? He did not love her; not truly, at least, and she certainly did not love him. They had been living stagnantly ever since she was released from the hospital. It would be a feat for them to even speak to each other over breakfast. Idle chat about the weather or what their adult children were doing was a rare treat. 

Enji's life had slowed significantly. No children to fill his too-big-for-one-man house and no woman to be kept company by. Work had slowed down. Younger heroes took the top spots, slowly but surely. Even his own son was predicted to soon surpass him. Old timers, or "Golden-Age Heroes", as the media titled them, were losing fame and fortune alike. No longer the hot commodity, old was out, new was in.

He expected it, really. His goal was to be the number one hero, and he was for a while. Was it his dream to remain number one? He didn't have time to think about it before he got knocked down to a measly third place in the ranks. 

He had thrown so much of himself into the hero life. It crossed his mind a few times, it all ending, but he never realized that it would come crashing down so soon. What friends he had, using the term very lightly, were less than helpful in his condition. 

None less so than Hawks, of course. That damned fool.

Keigo had been dragging Enji out to these annoyingly quaint cafés for a while now. He'd force piles of biscotti and scones onto Enji's plate while blabbing on about some new excursion of his or the other, taking up the prime hours of Enji's day in the name of socializing. 

Seldom it was that Enji left the impromptu meet-ups with anything but slight annoyance at best and utter exhaustion at worst. He could hardly pay attention to the meaningless drivel Keigo threw his way. Sometimes it was talk of the current hero ranks, which Enji immediately tuned out. Other times it was about a concert or movie Keigo was going to. 

Lately, though, Keigo had an interest in trying to play matchmaker for Enji. 

"You should really get out there," he said, smug little smile plastered on his cheeky face while he sipped his espresso. "You aren't getting younger."

Enji's response was the same as always, in that he was too busy and too old to be worrying about such things. "I do not have time to woo a woman like a schoolboy. I'm fine where I am," he responded with his arms resting on the café's comparably small table. 

Keigo chuckled, curling his lips upwards. "You can only spend so many nights with your right hand, Endeavor."

"Shut your damned mouth."

"If you won't let me set you up with someone," Keigo said, not taking Enji's gruff tone seriously, as usual, "there is another option."

Enji pressed his mouth closed tightly, eyes narrowing into a judgmental squint. "It had better not be online dating."

Defensive hands flew up. "No, no. You've made that pretty clear, man. I'm talking about getting, like, a mail-order bride or whatever they're called."

"You do realize how much that sounds like human trafficking, right?"

"It does not! They still do it, you know. There are websites and everything." 

Enji sighed and leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling. The idea sounded horrible. God only knew how sketchy something like that would be, and besides, how horrible were the moral implications of that? Some old bastard like himself purchasing a young girl like a farm animal. 

It wasn't completely unheard of. Plenty colleagues of his had foreign brides ordered for them. Even his own cousins had done similar things. Hell, he wasn't far off from trying it out to get the perfect quirk marriage before he found Rei. 

But now? It sounded cruel. Unnecessary. He already resented himself for how he treated his family— he didn't need to ruin the life of some other woman too.

"I am not going to order a wife," he said, voice strained, "like a spare part off of eBay. Do you not see how horrible that would look on me?"

Keigo waved his hand dismissively, unbothered. “It’s not like that. These women are looking for a chance at a better life," he explained before teasingly adding, "just like the lonely men who send for them." 

Enji stared at him, trying to decipher if he was serious. “You really think I'm desperate enough to buy some random woman?"

"Don't think of it like 'buying.' Think of it as rescuing. How will the press feel about that, hm? Imagine the headline: ‘Endeavor, the hero with a heart, saves a foreign damsel in distress by bringing her to Japan to live a new life of riches and mind-blowing sex!'"

"You disgust sometimes, you little brat."

Keigo leaned over the table, teeth flashing briefly as he spoke. "Just think about it, okay? I'll send you some links tonight." He got up and pushed his chair in with his foot. "Besides, I'm tired of being your only friend. These little 'dates' of ours are cutting majorly into my work." 

Keigo had compiled a ridiculously long list of websites and companies that specialized in international marriage deals. He had definitely committed to the bit too much or he had researched this topic heavily before presenting it to Enji via text.

Either way, Enji peered at his cell phone screen in distaste. Link after link, scrolling through the masterlist Hawks compiled, he just felt more unsure of the idea. The names of the sites left a strange feeling in his gut. 

GoldenBride, Rose Brides, Latidate. For fuck's sake, UkraineBride4You dot com? "Legitimate & Cheapest Mail Order Bride Sites! Click here for more!" 

He clicked his phone off. The light from the vibrant ads and taglines disappeared from his face as quickly as they appeared, leaving him in the dark of his bedroom. He didn't speak, he just stayed in his bed, leaning on the headboard in silence. 

He had gotten used to his house being quiet. It was never especially loud, but at least when the kids still lived at home, he could hear the sounds of life. Of Shoto's feet padding through the halls. The sound of Fuyumi's books opening and closing. Natsuo's grumbling under his breath. Proof that he had gotten them all this far— that he had done something right for them. 

No. He couldn't stay this way, living in the dark silence, figuratively and literally. He turned his phone back on and clicked the highlighted link with the least concerning name. 

Well, you were just the perfect little thing, weren't you? Young, pretty, doe-eyed, and sweet. After perusing a website that looked less criminal than he thought it would, Enji decided on you. He had to have you. 

You stood out immediately from the pages of other women. All of them were, of course, gorgeous. They would not be advertised if they weren't. You, though. There was something about you. You were small—Enji liked that—but not frail. Built for carrying children was what you were, he decided, with your soft curves and buxom build. 

Your profile did not give much away. Basic information and a little greeting. It intrigued him enough, so clearly it worked. 

The two of you chatted for a few weeks, if you could call it that. There was little getting to know each other and more plane tickets being purchased and pick up times being arranged. To say that you had him hooked was an understatement, especially considering the only tools you had to connect with him were shitty translations of your language to his from Google and emojis. 

Everything about you read as gentle. Docile. Probably the only personality Enji was equipped to deal with. He would just die if married to a combative woman. His enemies would love to see him nestled up with a loud, abrasive one with a temper to match his own. 

No, you would do quite nicely, with your limited speaking and non-provoking nature. You were the perfect escape, a blank canvas onto which he could project his hopes for a new life onto. He could start a family over again. He could fix his mistakes and move on. Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive himself.

The flood of ideas filled him each time his phone buzzed with your messages, even if they were often short and punctuated by misunderstandings and screwy sentences due to poor translations. He found himself counting the days until your plane would take off to bring you to him, to his home. He had plans for you.

Things moved quickly with your new husband. Just last week your flight landed. Then you were  saying "I do," and now he had you bent in positions unimaginable. 

He worked fast. His hands were large and rough, but God, they were efficient. Thick fingers rubbed at your clit. A thicker cock  prodded at your entrance. You wriggled beneath him a bit, eyes widening at the stretch. 

You didn't have the words to tell him you were a virgin, but you didn't have the desire to stop him either. 

"Hold still, you," he said, voice gentle in comparison to how rough his strokes were. "You've got to let it adjust." 

Even if you could understand his words, the heat burning your ears drowned out any sound completely. Fullness filled you everywhere. Like a missing piece you never knew you didn't have. 

"Ah, you still aren't broken in yet for me," he muttered to himself. He watched as your struggles to swallow him into your walls. "Virgin, yeah?"

You mumbled incoherently to yourself, feeling his words cast over your face. More or less, you understood the tone of his words and hummed in agreement, hands playing with your tits absent mindedly. 

Pain tinted moans escaped you. Enji felt good, sure, but a warmth of discomfort passed through you with every inch of him. Your mind told you yes, but your body tried to reject him. He was simply too big, and too much. 

Not that it would stop him. 

He spat on his length to ease the friction. A steady hand stayed over your clit, abusing it to the point of overstimulation. He wanted this to be pleasurable for you, but he had a goal in mind. 

The load or two he had pumped into you earlier wasn't enough. He wouldn't dare give up yet, especially not with the adrenaline rush hearing you whine gave him. 

Besides, your plane ticket was expensive. He planned on getting paid back in spades.

[whimsickool]

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1.  The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth  after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick.  I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

[virescent-v]

Subconsciously Green-Eyed

Summary: Jealousy? Emily's never heard of it.

A/N: So...I tried to challenge myself to do a 500 word drabble. I didn't make it. LMAO. But lucky for ya'll you get two fics from me within 24 hours! There's no warnings to this one; there's no smut.

Word Count: 983

Emily cast her glance back and forth across the table. It wasn’t unlike her team to joke and lighten the mood during debriefs, but something about this instance was getting under her skin. 

She eyeballed the table, looking intently at each person present trying to figure out what was bothering her. It was the usual group of people; Tara, Penelope, JJ, Luke, and Dave. But there was also a new addition to the table. 

A young, attractive agent from New York. A bright mind in the Cyber Division office, if she were to go by what your section chief said. You were down in DC helping out on the case they were currently working on. Everyone on the team was besotted with you already after only having known you for two days. 

You were a bright light in the otherwise bleak office. You were average in height, but loud in personality. Your optimism rivaled that of Penelope, as did your technological savviness, and your humor meshed well with both Tara and Luke. You were confident and extroverted without being cocky and knowledgeable without being a know-it-all. 

Everyone was captivated by you, trying to work closely with you over the past couple of days. You had knowledge that seeped into various topics that made you an asset at the round table. More importantly, you were creative with directions to take the case that opened up a few different leads that impressed everyone, including Emily. 

As Emily continued surveying the table, you were in the middle of a funny story from your first New York case and everyone around it had their eyes on you. You were leaning lightly into Penelope’s personal space, your hand on her arm, sharing a quick giggle at something techy. You made sure to make eye contact with everyone around the table, keeping everyone’s attention on you. It felt natural, the way you worked the small crowd, and Emily could tell that each member was enamored with you. 

She noticed that Tara and Luke’s eyes were more heavily focused on you than the others, something dark and gleaming. Watching them watch you, their eyes trailing sneakily but lazily over your body, Emily could feel something swelling inside of her. Something unnamed, something she hadn’t felt before. 

As she was internally cataloging whatever feelings were swirling inside her, she didn’t notice the room clear out leaving only herself and you. 

You noticed Emily’s distraction during the past few minutes, especially as the team made their way out and she stayed behind. Her gaze was directed at the table top, but it looked befuddled, distant. 

“Agent Prentiss?” When you didn’t receive any response, you timidly walked around the table and gently put your hand on her arm. You spoke quietly, not wanting to scare her out of her reverie. “Emily?” 

Regardless of your trying to be soft spoken, Emily still startled, jumping a little. “Wha- oh. Sorry, I was in another world.” 

You laughed lightly, breaking the tension a bit. “I could tell. Is everything okay?” 

Emily cleared her throat, still unsure of how to name the emotions rippling inside her. “Oh, ye-yeah. It’s nothing. Just a lot on my mind.” She looked around, finally registering that the team had left. “Are you enjoying DC?” 

You tilted your head a little at her, your eyes softening. “I am. It’s a nice change of pace from New York,” you stepped a little closer to the section chief. “I really like the team. Everyone’s, uh, great.” 

Emily had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Go figure you enjoyed the attention of her agents. She figured you probably noticed the glances that some of them were throwing your way, your personality clinging to the admiration. “I can tell,” she said with just a hint of something venomous. 

Your head tilted a little further as you scrutinized her. You were not as proficient in profiling, but you weren’t blind. You leaned back on the table and crossed your arms over your chest, regarding Emily with a hint of amusement. “Agent Prentiss, are you jealous of my newly budding relationships with your team?” 

“Jeal-? Jealous? No, no. Why, why would I be jealous?” 

Emily felt her face flush, confused by the emotions rushing through her. Was it jealousy? But why would she be jealous of her team showing you attention? 

“It doesn’t take a profiler to spot jealousy.” You walked closer to her, close enough that you could feel her body heat. “You’re stuttering over your words when you’re normally very well spoken. Your hands are clenched at your sides right now.” You trailed your hands over Emily’s hands, loosening them. You trailed your hands up her arms, keeping your eyes on Emily and her reactions. 

As your hands brushed her shoulders, Emily’s breath caught. “I can feel your muscles, you’re pretty tense right now.” Your hands continued north, brushing the underside of her jaw. “You’ve been clenching your teeth and frowning with narrowed eyes since you noticed Luke and Tara checking me out.” You trailed your thumb over her lower lip, which she had pulled between her teeth at your movements. “So, yeah, I’m not a profiler, Agent Prentiss, but all signs point to jealousy,” you said, arching your eyebrow. 

Emily slowly released a breath, gently closing her eyes in a way to relax herself. “Maybe I am jealous,” she whispered. 

You watched as Emily steeled herself, confidence lighting up her eyes. You grinned fondly as you gently shook your head, opening your body language as Emily prepared herself. 

“I think,” she started, her hands landing on your hips. “To avoid all further jealousy, I should beat Tara and Luke to the punch.” She took a deep breath. “Want to get dinner with me tonight?” 

You couldn’t suppress the teasing smile that broke out across your face. “Why, Agent Prentiss, I thought you’d never ask.” 

[makiokuta]

I'm debuting something new on my patreon: fullbody illustrations of characters from past icon sets. The first two characters will be released for free - while the others will go under paid tiers. These will have no release schedule outside of 'when I finish them' Here's the first character!

People are welcome to use the character art in any project they'd like, so long as the art remains unaltered and is not being resold strictly as the art. That includes indie games, ttrpg modules, as character or token art on streams - etc.

[redrose10]

Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose

Word Count: 3,824

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.

You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.

“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.

The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.

“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.

You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”

“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.

The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.

“How do you know Yoongi?”

“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”

The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”

The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.

The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.

“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”

You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.

Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.

But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.

Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.

Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.

So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.

Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.

At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.

Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.

Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.

Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.

His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.

At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.

He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.

Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.

Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.

And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.

Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.

You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.

You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.

As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.

After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.

It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.

With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.

“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”

Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?

You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.

*Knock…Knock…Knock*

Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.

The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.

“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.

Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.

“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.

Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.

Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.

Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.

You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.

You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.

“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.

You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.

“Bosses orders”, the man growled.

Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.

You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.

You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.

Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.

“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.

“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.

You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.

He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.

A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.

Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.

As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.

Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.

A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.

Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”

You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.

You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.

You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.

Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.

Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.

Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.

“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.

[wileys-russo]

r is a (new) worker in a cafe leah is a regular in. one day leah comes in with a few friends and some fans rush towards them trying to take photos or autographs. eventually the pile of people just kinda grow and block the entry . r sees this and shoos the group of people off for blocking the entrance. and leah is just there standing with that signature smirk admiring this girl who she's never seen before that's just saved her and her friends some time when leah is ordering she talks to r, thanking them for shooing the people off. (+ some teasing and friendly banter and stuff ) they have a small talk before leah's order comes in and she goes back to the table her and her friends in. before leah and her friends leave the musters up the courage to talk to you one more time, asking for your name, your number anything she could use to know you better. r teases leah and says something like "if i call you am i gonna just be 'one of your girls'?" something among those lines. sorry if this is a bit boring but i tried. i love your work btw keep it up!! you're doing amazing🙏

no p2 to this! just a cute little blurb one of your girls II l.williamson

"-and obviously you know how this works?" evelyn, your new boss, chuckled as she patted the top of the large espresso machine. "i certainly hope so." you grinned toothily, the older girl still walking you through it all quickly anyway.

"well, thats the tour over then. jobs yours!"

~

you survived your first few days unscathed, your work ethic and natural confident charm had you well liked among your coworkers and earned you regular hours as customers were showering your coffee with compliments.

the small cafe wasn't overly busy of an afternoon so you found yourself rostered mostly on mornings which you didn't mind, happy to start around five if it meant you could be home not long after lunch time and have the rest of your day as your own.

being one of the only cafe's on the street meant you had a large handful of repeat customers, and with your memory one of your best assets you knew most if not all of their orders off by heart by the end of your first week.

which is why your curiosity was peaked one morning when a group of girls you hadn't seen before came bundling in around seven in the morning, all in matching uniforms you assumed they were on a team of sorts but sports had never been of a great interest to you.

when your friends and peers were running around kicking a football or playing tag you had your head buried in a book or challenging someone to a card game, you were quite introverted until your teenage years and it wasn't until you left school all together that you came completely out of your shell.

as they all took turns ordering you clocked that there was a handful of different nationalities among them, australian, irish, british and something european you couldn't quite place.

they were all friendly enough though, two of them a blonde and a brunette leaning against the counter speaking with you as you made their coffees with a smile, all ordered at once under the same name.

"so which one of you is katie?" you questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow, the brunette sending you a grin. "that would be me, haven't seen you round here before though. you new?" katie questioned, irish accent thick and the grin never dropping from her face.

"could say that. been here a little over a week though and never seen any of you." you smiled back, leaning your head back a little as you frothed the milk and moved the wand out, hot steam flooding your vision.

"ahh see this is our regular spot but we've been jetsettin. famous footballers and all that!" katie winked as you hummed and the blonde beside her rolled her eyes.

"ignore her, if her head and her ego get any bigger she won't fit through the door!" the blonde nodded behind her as you laughed and katie pushed her.

"ah shove off russo. see ya round then new kid!" katie winked again, grabbing one tray of drinks as the blonde grabbed the other and sent you a smile, the other girls following out after them.

surviving the morning rush not long after you were taking a well earned break and sipping at a coffee of your own though you stood as a group of teenagers burst inside, their chatter filling the previously quiet room.

plastering a smile on your face you slipped your coffee beneath the counter and readied yourself to take their orders. as they rattled them off almost all at the same time you did your best to put them through, only missing two as you read them back.

half the group taking a seat a few of the girls hovered by the machine as you moved to start their order, your coworker dipping out back to toast the sandwiches ordered alongside the drinks.

"do you ever get arsenal players in here?" one of them asked as you gave her an odd look. "i don't really watch sports much, sorry." you shrugged honestly, that answer seeming to displease her as she frowned.

"like arsenal women, the football team? any of these girls?" you flinched back a little as another one of them shoved a phone in your face, eyes narrowing as they roamed the team photo in front of you, recognizing a few of the girls with katie this morning.

though sensing maybe there was something a little off with the request, you again shrugged. "don't really remember sorry, we get a lot of people in here, especially on a tuesday morning." you smiled politely as again the girls frowned, turning away from you as you focused on filling their order.

"all done!" you smiled as you slipped the last coffee into the tray, rolling your eyes as they grabbed them and gave you a weird look, hurrying over to their table.

it wasn't hard to know you'd been mentioned once or twice in their conversation as heads frequently turned to glance at you and you pretended not to notice, suddenly feeling like you were back in high school again.

you perked up as the bell for the door rang and a new group entered, but your eyes flickered over to the girls already sat down, recognizing one of your new customers to be in the same uniform as katie and her friends.

sure enough the moment the girls noticed they were up to their feet, crowding around the footballer who smiled politely and took a few photos, but you could see in her eyes that her smile never made it all the way there.

it would seem word traveled fast as within a couple of minutes a second group of teenagers appeared and you watched the blondes polite smile turn to a frown and though you couldn't hear what she was saying, you could see it wasn't being listened to.

brushing your hands off on your apron you hurried around the counter and toward the front door. "hey! if you're not a current customer, out." you warned sternly, raising your voice at the group and nodding for the blonde footballer to step inside.

"i said current." you repeated, blocking the second group of teenagers from entering as the blonde and her friends made their way to the counter. "our friends are in there, we're with them." one of the girls pointed out.

"your friends were just leaving, since their drinks and food are finished." you nodded to the empty plates and discarded takeaway cups sat on the table they'd abandoned.

"you can't kick us out." the girl from earlier frowned with a scoff. "i'm not kicking you out, but we have every right to deny service to people who don't know how to act with respect." you raised an eyebrow.

"and harassing footballers who are just trying to get a coffee doesn't sound very respectful, does it? they're humans too, so how about giving them a little privacy. feel free not to come back!" you nodded for them to move on after that, ignoring the insults thrown your way as you closed the door and headed for the counter, your coworker already taking their orders.

"nicely done, talk about an attitude problem." the girl chuckled as she handed you the order slip, sending you a wink and ducking out back as you sighed with relief it didn't seem you'd be getting in any sort of trouble.

"hey, thank you for that." you looked up to meet a confident smile and a set of bright blue eyes looking back at you. "no problem, but does that happen a lot?" you asked with concern. "more than i want. especially in the last year since the euros!" the blonde sighed with a slight chuckle.

"not a big sports fan, you might need to elaborate on that." you admitted with a smile, the blonde raising an eyebrow with a surprised look. "you don't know who i am?" she questioned but seeing the look on your own face she clearly rethought it.

"jesus that sounded self-absorbed. let me try again, i'm leah!" she held her hand out with a grin, you shook it and introduced yourself back.

"so, you're new around here right? i come at least four times a week with the girls normally and i've not seen you. i'd have remembered!" leah leaned against the counter, confident smile plastered back on her face again.

"seems to be the common theme. let me guess, you've been out of town jetsetting?" you chuckled as leah gave you an odd look. "some of your teammates were here this morning, katie said the same thing." you revealed as leah hummed thoughtfully.

"also seemed to like to think of herself as a big famous footballer, but she wasn't shocked i didn't know her though." you teased as leah playfully rolled her eyes.

"how about i take you for dinner as an apology?" leah asked somewhat hopefully, even surprising herself with the forwardness of her request. "so i can be one of your adoring fangirls? thats cute. but i don't date customers, leah." you smiled, sliding over the tray of coffees

"did you see me order these? they're not under my name, technically i'm not a customer." the blonde smiled charmingly and you shook your head amused at her persistence.

"mm you're drinking them here though? customer." you smiled back, nodding to her friends who were already sat down at a table eating food.

"it was nice to meet you leah, i'm sure i'll see you around."

~

turns out, it was a lot sooner than you thought.

that afternoon to be exact as you were out walking your best friends dog, having agreed to babysit her precious fur baby while she was away at a wedding for a few days.

you watched with an amused smile as bear raced after his ball, laughing as he nearly fell over his paws, the poor puppy growing at a rate which he couldn't seem to keep up with.

you jumped in surprise as suddenly a dog sprinted through your legs in a flash of tan fur, taking off after bear as you heard a groan behind you. "bella! come here, sit, stay, heel! oh fuck whats the word again?" you looked up to see a flash of blonde dart past you next.

"bear!" you whistled noticing the new dog sniffing him curiously, the chocolate labs head whipping toward you as you whistled again and he took off toward you, the new dog following eagerly after him.

as bear dropped in a sit by your feet you squatted down and carefully grabbed the new dogs collar, the owner racing over toward you as you checked the tag, bella.

"well aren't you lovely." you smiled, scratching behind her ears as she licked your hand making you laugh. "bella! we do not lick strangers its impolite." you looked up with a smile which was wiped away as bella's owner looked down.

"wow are you stalking me? crazy fangirl." leah tutted with a smirk as she clipped bella's leash back on and you scoffed. "i'm sure you'd like to think so, but i haven't even given you enough thought to google your last name." you hit back as she gasped and held a hand to her chest, bear running off again as bella tried to follow with a whine.

"my poor ego, that hurt." leah sighed with a shake of her head as bear returned, dropping his ball at your feet as you clipped his own leash back and slipped the ball into your pocket.

"i'm sure it'll recover when the next adoring fan asks you for a selfie. maybe next time i'll leave you to the wolves and just do my job." you smiled, starting to walk off as leah was quick to fall into step with you.

"you mean you're not a security guard?" leah spoke with mock surprise as you hummed. "only a lowly barista." you pouted sarcastically, bear and bella also walking in step.

"might be in the wrong profession, you're proper scary." leah smirked poking at your arm as you pushed her gently, not missing the sarcasm in her tone at the obvious height difference between you both, the blonde easily two heads taller.

"didn't see you complaining about the coffee so i don't think i've missed my calling." you laughed as leah shook her head. "wouldn't know, i had the hot chocolate. not the best i've had!" the blonde shrugged as you scoffed.

"well if you can run on a football pitch like you can run your mouth i'm sure you're just as famous and successful as you think you are." you hit back though the smile on your face betrayed the false offence in your tone.

"oh even more so! best in the world." leah stated dead seriously as you both exchanged a glance and her face broke into a grin, bumping her shoulder into yours.

"well. we're not in your workplace so i'm not a customer, can i take you to dinner? i'd ask you out for coffee but i don't drink it and i'm sure you think you're just as good at making it as i know i am at football." leah smirked and despite the cockiness you could see just a flicker of nerves in her eyes as you both stopped walking for a moment.

"are all footballers this insufferably self absorbed?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow. "only the really really talented ones." leah grinned cheekily, beanie sitting lopsided on top of her head as you smiled.

"fine, dinner. so i guess i have to give you my number then lily." you pulled your phone from your pocket. "leah." the blonde corrected as you exchanged numbers.

"oh was it? just such a forgettable name and face." you shrugged, both of your walking resuming as leah hummed. "cute." the blonde retorted with a smirk and a shake of her head.

"i am. and by the end of dinner maybe i'll have humbled you just enough that i might tolerate a second date with...sorry was it lucy? layla? luna?" you pondered with a frown as leah shoved you with a grin.

"leah."

[rileyslibrary]

Where’s my pen, Lt.?

Summary: You’re PMSing, and Ghost comes to the rescue.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,110

Notes:

Angst and fluff

Dedicated to my ✨ anon

Want more?

———————————————————————

How can you be angry, sad, and tired all at the same time? It’s a never-ending cycle. Every month right before your period, you feel like shit. What did your species do to deserve such a cruel and recurring punishment? What a selfish b*tch that Eve was. So much for taking one for the team.

You’re standing in front of a table with a shattered drone resting on its mahogany top. Fortunately, with the right tools, carbon fibre is easy to repair. Unfortunately, this army base doesn’t have the necessary equipment and personnel for the job. It can be a complex task if you don’t have the resources, especially if you lack the energy and strength to do it just by yourself.

Ghost is sitting in the corner of the room, cleaning his handgun. He looks calm—sirene—as if he didn’t just stare death straight in the eyes a few hours ago. How does he do that?

On the contrary, your movements are sluggish, you have terrible back pain, and you lack the motivation to complete even the most basic tasks. But you have to fix that drone for its next mission.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the drone’s camera lenses. You’re unrecognisable. Your hair is acting up again, with unruly strands forming a halo at the crown of your head. Not only that, but your reflection reveals another issue. You take a closer look at your face. Fuck; another pimple. It decided to settle on your chin this time. Great—just great.

“Everything alright?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Y-yes, ready to start the process.” You answer with false confidence. Can he tell you’re faking it? Probably.

He says nothing but keeps staring at you with an unreadable expression, his silence giving an answer in itself. After what seemed like an eternity, he stands up and walks towards the door, exiting the room and leaving you alone.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, exhaling in relief. Come on, get a hold of yourself. Focus.

You gather your hair up and fix it with whatever you have available in front of you. Now is not the time to be making stylistic decisions. You’re not here to compete in a pageant, anyway. What you need to do is fix that damn thing and fast.

You roll up your sleeves, grab your notepad, and open it on a new page. You pick up your p-

Where’s your pen?

You begin searching the table for your missing item, picking up drone components and putting them back in an unruly manner.

Maybe it rolled off the table!

You kneel on the floor, furiously searching for your pen as if you’d lost your most treasured asset. Where did it go? It can’t just grow legs and walk away! It must be here, somewhere.

You stumble as you rise to your feet, bumping your head on the table’s corner. Dizzy and frustrated, you stay on all fours, attempting to calm yourself with every ounce of dignity you have left.

Until you ultimately give up. So much for the confidence boost you tried to give yourself a few moments ago. You roll around and sit on the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest and burying your face in them as you let out a long, deep sigh.

“Is that part of the repair process, soldier?” Ghost asks as he re-enters the room, “do you grieve the drone first before you glue it back together?”

Today, of all days, he decided to act like an asshole.

“I misplaced my pen, Lieutenant,” you reply, still seated on the floor.

“You’re crying because you misplaced your pen.” He repeats in a deep, monotonous voice.

“I’m not cr- forget it.” You sigh defeated.

You can’t tell him what’s going on inside you. He’ll never understand. Ghost could take a bullet to the shoulder and still manage to climb a mountain while you’re whining about a minor inconvenience.

“Get up.” He commands, and you follow his orders. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and attempt to stand as straight as possible.

He stares at you with those interrogative eyes of his and slides something from across the table. You look down at the purple-wrapped rectangle in front of you.

A chocolate bar.

“I know what’s up,” he says, shrugging as he looks at the chocolate, “you tend to be like that a few days before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I keep a log,” he explains. “I might be confident enough setting up an ambush in the middle of the desert, but I don’t push my luck with you.”

You crack a smile and accept the chocolate. “Thank you, Ghost,” you mutter, eyeing the piece of candy. He keeps a log, huh? What a guy.

“About that pen you were looking for,” he continues, “it’s in that patty of yours,” he explains and points at you.

In the what of yours??? You stand perplexed by his last statement until he gestures toward the back of his head. You mimic his actions and chuckle in embarrassment as you realise what he’s referring to. But of course! You used the pen to secure your hair. You exhale in relief and pick the pen off to set it on the notepad.

“You’re a lifesaver, Simon.” You reply.

“Keep your gratitude for the battlefield, soldier,” he adds dismissively. He’s obviously flattered, but he’ll never confess it. “Now tell me, how’s your back doing?” He asks, “still in pain?”

You nod. “Hurts like a motherfucker, sir.”

“Let me see,” he says, and you lift your hair up to expose the back of your neck. He moves in closer to get a better look, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin. His fingers are gentle as he works his way down your neck, kneading the soreness and pain away with skill. You wince as you feel his touch, but the pain is nothing compared to what it was before he began to work his magic.

“Oh, and, uh, Lieutenant?” You whisper softly, almost inaudibly, as you feel the tension leaving your body.

“Hm?” He murmurs, his strong hands now carefully massaging your shoulders.

“It’s called a bun,” you say with a smirk, “not a patty.”

———————————————————————

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price worships Nik's body like he deserves, and treats him to a new experience.

cw: chest worship, rimming, anal sex, bottom Nikolai.

"You ready?"

"I am ready."

Price nodded and took one final glance around the room to ensure all assets were in position. Window open for the breeze, candles secure, lube in place on the bedside table, towels on hand, water with ice in a pint glass. Everything was thoroughly prepared. Right, he was ready to deploy.

Price scratched the back of his neck, glancing up through his eyebrows at the slab of top tier Russian beef currently awaiting him in the middle of the bed. It had been a hard week, Nik was exhausted, but two days into their leave, with the rest of the world shut out, Nik was finally in the right frame of mind for intimacy. Price had to get this bloody right.

And there he lounged, all dark hair, thick muscle and cocky smile. Fucking beautiful.

It had always struck Price how confident Nik was naked. He swaggered around their flat with his massive dick out, hard or soft, and had once almost answered the door in the buff. Would have given Beryl from Number 4 a bloody heart attack as she clutched their Amazon parcel full of creatine.

In all fairness, Price thought as he studied his lover on the bed, he would probably walk around naked too if he looked that bloody good. Nik had one arm tucked behind his head, a knee hitched up the bed, his prick sitting semi-hard in the curve of his hip as he studied Price with those big, inquisitive eyes.

In that one gay werewolf romance novel Price had found in Soap's quarters, the author had talked about hard lines and angles, but outside the sharp edge of his jaw and defined chin, Nik was all firm curves that made Price want to sink his teeth in and hump like a randy bloody dog. His shoulders, his biceps, his plush stomach, just lean enough to see his abdominals when he clenched to sit up, the mouthwatering heft of his balls between muscular thighs.... Fuuuh-kin' 'ell.

"Are you okay?" Nik asked, head tilting to the side.

"Grand," Price said, voice tight in his throat. "Just admirin' the scenery."

Nik smiled at him. It was the goofy little grin he only ever flashed when he was up to mischief, or planning it. Price cocked a brow as he slipped out of his boxers and lobbed them in a ball towards the laundry basket. He wasn’t quite at the 'walk around the house bollock naked' stage of his personal development. Maybe that happened when you turned forty.

Price didn't miss the way Nik's eyes ran down the length of his body as he swaggered up to the foot of the bed, bottom lip rolling between his teeth. Nik rubbed one big hand over the shaft of his cock, giving it a longing little tug as his gaze lingered on Price's lips. "Mm. Are you sure you would not rather do our usual?"

Price knelt on the mattress unsteadily, his own prick filling quickly in anticipation of getting his mouth on Nik's body. He crawled his way up the bed, marking the location of those greedy hands in case he needed to deploy countermeasures to maintain control of the engagement. "Naw. Ya promised. This is what I want."

Nik sighed, flopping his hands onto the bed, palms up. They had negotiated tying them to the headboard, because Nik might be tempted to use them as a distraction to get his own way. Wouldn't be the first time. But Nik had promised to behave. Given his word, in fact. Plus, running his hands over Price was one of the parts he enjoyed the most about sex, and Price was bloody well looking forward to feeling them clutch his back for the finale, anyway.

"Let me, Nik. Wanna make ya feel good," Price said as he sprawled at his lover's side, placing a palm in the centre of Nik's belly. He stroked his thumb through the soft hair trailing down to Nik's groin, jet black streaked with wisps of white and grey, and pressed his lips to Nik's bicep, blue eyes wide and imploring.

"I have never been able to say no to those eyes," Nik said, and leaned in for a kiss. Price let him have it, kissing slowly as he trailed that hand up to Nik's chest. His palm brushed over soft nipples, a fingertip teasing around the areola of one until it pulled tight.

Tonight was about Nik and his pleasure. Not that Nik had been able to fully grasp why Price wanted such an evening. "Because yer just asked a question as stupid as that," Price had said at the time, cutting off the end of his cigar. Nik had still looked nonplussed. It was truly baffling how little Nik considered his own needs and desires.

Price kissed slowly down Nik's jaw, savouring the bristles of stubble against his lips, tracing his nose over his neck to breathe him in. "Always smell so good," Price grumbled, leaning over to press his face into the hollow of Nik's throat for a deeper breath that made his mouth water.

"You have scents you prefer." Nik's hand couldn't stay still for long. It brushed up Price's back, fingertips skating over goosepimpled skin, sliding into his hair from the base of his neck. There was no attempt to guide, only hold, Nik’s thumb circling lazily beneath Price's ear.

"Oh yeah?" Price kissed Nik's clavicle, before working slowly down the centre of Nik's chest. He paid close attention to the curve of one glorious tit while he squeezed the other, rolling it around against his palm. Nik's cock twitched with interest; he liked having his chest played with, pushed into it, in fact.

"Da," Nik's fingers tightened a little as Price kissed across the crest of his pectoral and down the outside where the skin was soft, sensitive. It made Nik shiver, the first crack in his laid-back facade. "You prefer... mm, you prefer..."

"What do I prefer, Nik?" Price's tongue swirled around a nipple before he sucked it into his mouth, stroking the other between finger and thumb. That earned him a soft moan, Nik's head flopping back as he drew in deep breaths through his nose.

"You prefer muskier scents. Ones that, ah, John..."

"Doin' well, Nik," Price whispered, warm breath ghosting over wet skin. He guided Nik's arms up again to kiss into the dip of his armpit. Nik's fingers curled into his palm and he spread his legs, hips twitching up with a swell of arousal, another soft noise of enjoyment rumbling from that thick chest. Price kissed and nosed the underside of his bicep, before kissing deep into the groove again, where the taste and smell of Nik was rich. He lingered there until Nik shuddered out another soft moan, fingers and toes curling as his cock twitched up from his hip with an involuntary flex of his kegel.

“Soundin’ so pretty for me, sweet'eart.”

Nik flushed, self conscious, and Price squeezed the fingers wound through his just above Nik's head before he released them to kiss over Nik's obliques. Nik kept his arm curled up obediently, baring himself for Price's mouth even as his hips squirmed. Every inch of skin deserved to be worshipped, and Nik was enjoying it, his prick hard and leaking thick beads of precum where it rested heavily under its own weight against his belly. "Doin' so well," Price said again.

Price's hand had followed the progress of his mouth on the other side of Nik's body, stroking the contours of his torso down to his hip. Nik's fingers fluttered over the back of his wrist as if to ground himself, finding purchase again as he stroked into Price's hair. He was breathing heavier, fighting his instinct to take the wheel, squirming against the softness of the sheets.

Price glanced up to see Nik's head tilted back, his eyes closed and his damp lips parted, before he continued down his belly to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. It twitched against his lips and Price ran the tip of his nose down the thick vein right to the base, nuzzling into the thick curls of black hair at his groin until he could bury his face against the heft of his sac. Price kneaded at the bedsheets, growling softly, feral, as his beard and face soaked in Nik's scent.

“Are you going to eat me, John?” Nik asked, amused, his voice thick and low as he looked down the slope of his body to John’s face. He'd see wild blue eyes buried among the thick hair around his cock, the side of John's nose brushing gently over the velvet skin of his shaft. John kept his eye contact as he opened his mouth and sucked around the base of Nik's cock, tongue swirling down over his balls. “Ahh, da… John…”

Nik sounded so good like that. Breathless, a slight tremor in his voice as a sigh stuttered over parted lips. John licked and kissed lazily, working his way back up to swirl his tongue over the soft join of skin at the back of Nik’s glans until Nik's thighs were twitching. John sucked over Nik’s leaking tip, moaning wantonly as he licked it clean of precum, tongue swirling through his slit until Nik's stomach clenched. Only then, did he pull away with a swift kiss to his glans, smirking up at Nik's flustered expression.

Nik groaned and flopped a wrist over his face. “John, pochemu ty vse vremya menya draznish?”

Price chuckled, hitching up onto his elbow so he could reach for the lube he had chucked onto the bedside table earlier. When he returned his mouth to Nik's cock, his slick fingers stroked down his taint, heavy balls nestling in the curve of his palm, so warm, so perfect, that Price couldn't help but suck another deep kiss over them. The fact that Nik's thighs spread, his hips lifting to Price's mouth in little needy twitches, made Price damn near purr.

It was rare he got to tease Nik for this long. Nik was usually too impatient to get between Price's legs and Price enjoyed getting drilled too much to put up any resistance. When time was short, they defaulted to the demands of raw need, but with two days of leave behind them and two more ahead, they had time and space to indulge.

Price pressed up just behind Nik's balls, circling the walnut shaped firmness that made Nik's back bow a little from the bed, as he kissed and lapped sloppily up and down his shaft. When Price worked lower, massaging the cluster of nerves around his opening. Nik’s fingers fisted in the sheets, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

Price kissed the soft skin of Nik's inner thigh, lips lingering over his thrumming pulse. “Ty slishkom napryazheny, tebya nuzhno rasslabit'sya…”

Nik glowed, dark eyes soft. “Ha, John… your… that was good…”

“Need ya to relax for me then,” another kiss, fingers still caressing insistently at Nik's fluttering hole, “ty khochesh etogo, da, detka?” Price asked, his voice husky and thick, and it had the desired effect, Nik’s body curled a little with delight.

“Da, ya klyanus…”

“Gluboko dyshat.” Price nuzzled the heft of Nik’s balls again, shouldering his leg a little further away as his tongue followed the slick path of his fingers to Nik's hole. He kissed the flexing muscle as deeply and passionately as if it were Nik’s mouth, tongue swirling around the outer ring before lapping inside.

Nik made the most beautiful noise Price had ever heard; a desperate, broken little whimper that might have started as a Russian curse and ended in a soft plea. A world away from the guttural grunts and moans he usually made during their tumbles. Price earned another when he thrust his tongue in again, followed by his forefinger. He worked them in and out together, the firm press of his fingertip contrasting with the slick writhe of his tongue in a messy glide that made Nik tremble.

“Ahh, haa, John… John… da, yeshcho, ahh, yeshcho,” Nik moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow, his legs shaking as Price’s finger curled to find his prostate and began to circle it. As an older gent, Nik's was a little bigger, easier to locate, and Price was going to take full advantage. Bloody hell, he was so sensitive, every flick and thrust of Price's tongue teasing another tortured pant out of him, thick tits heaving as his plush belly pulled tight.

Price took his time, tugging Nik’s rim down to lap the flat of his tongue over Nik's sloppy hole, enjoying the way it fluttered and clenched greedily, plunging back inside with his mouth wide. When he slipped a second finger in, Nik was relaxed enough to take it easily; Price pressed his fingertips up in a come hither motion that made Nik choke out another whimper.

Nik was so hard, his cockhead wet and glistening, and Price pumped a hand down it, working Nik's foreskin lazily over his glans. “Fuck, yer lovin’ this, aren't ya, sweet'eart? Love me playin’ with your hole.” Price’s jaw ached, his mouth watered at the delicious taste and smell of his lover on his tongue and lips. He closed his eyes to listen to the wet noise of his fingers working into Nik, and the soft, tortured noises his big Russian was panting into the warm comfort of their bedroom.

“Da, please… mm, John, haa, ah.”

“Reckon you could take my dick? Wanna feel ya…”

“Da, da.”

Price withdrew his fingers carefully, and sat up. “On yer front, spread yer legs fer me, love. Show me that pretty hole.”

Nik shifted slowly, his cheeks flushed and red, and rolled onto his hands and knees. Price guided him with gentle, encouraging hands. He placed a bent pillow beneath Nik's hips, urging his spine into a deeper curve and spreading his knees apart. All that heft and power presenting was bloody stunning, dark body hair, plush padding and muscle, Nik was a work of art. Nik's large shoulders and biceps bunched as big hands found an anchor in the blankets, his thick thighs twitching.

“There, fuck, look at’cha.. fuckin’ gorgeous,” Price breathed, thumbs pushing into the cheeks of Nik's arse to spread them open, admiring slick muscle and whirls of jet black bodyhair. He couldn't help it. He needed to taste him once more.

Nik scrambled at the blankets as Price buried his face against him, the soft bristles of his beard a little coarse against his sensitive skin as he was devoured. Price moaned as he ate his fill, saliva dripping down the back of Nik's balls. Nik damn squeaked, overwhelmed. “John, John, ahh…”

Price's cock ached, he was so damn hard, so damn desperate. He knew he was going to come quickly but it sounded like Nik was clinging on by the skin of his teeth too, ruddy cock heavy between his legs. When Price sat up, Nik was quivering, his face buried in the pillow. He placed a palm at the small of Nik's back while the other grasped the base of his cock, lining his tip up with his hole. The sight of Nik spreading open around his cockhead, gaping around his crown, swallowing an inch of his shaft, soft as butter. “Oh, fuck, Nik… takin’ me like a natural.”

Nik wheezed into the cotton pillowcase, bearing down against the intrusion, his hole sucking Price back in when his cock withdrew. Price squared his hips up and sank his fingers into the plush fat and muscle around Nik's hips, growling at the glorious, possessive give of Nik’s body in his grip. He started slowly, rocking in and out, sinking right to the hilt, pressing his balls into the weight of Nik's.

He listened to Nik’s moans, how they rose and fell, became more intense when Price was thrusting deep. The snug, inexperienced clutch of Nik's body was heavenly, the way he fluttered and bore down, hollowing out and relaxing more as the pleasure mounted.

Price draped over Nik's back, grinding and rutting into Nik's eager hole as he licked the sweat off Nik’s back, blissfully delirious. “Yeah, Nik… yeah, so fuckin’ good, fuck, oh, fuck, yeah.”

“Faster, please…”

Price pushed his knuckles into the mattress and lifted into his toes, pounding Nik down into the bed, and forcing increasingly urgent cries that couldn't be muffled by the pillows.

“John, John… vyyebi menya sil'neye, sil'neye!”

“C’mon, Nik, come for me. Lemme hear, fuck, fuck… yeah, c’mon, love, mm, aah.”

“Da, da, da…” Nik pushed back into Price's hips, desperate, needy, and Price slipped a hand beneath them to stroke Nik's cock. It took three firm tugs until Nik was half roaring, half seething through his orgasm, muffled by the pillow he'd shoved into his own mouth to manage the intensity. Price slowed, ekeing out the last few moments of his high, the tingling, heady, breathless peak before he tumbled over.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he snarled into Nik’s back, cock pulsing inside the firm grip of Nik's body. Grey splotches splashed over his vision, and he pressed his nose into the groove of Nik's spine as he wiggled and bumped his hips against Nik’s arse, humping wantonly through his own spend like a horny bloody dog. “Fuckin' ‘ell, yer so fuckin’ hot… what the fuck was that… wot…”

Nik chuckled into the pillow, breathless and limp. “John, your pillow talk is an art form.”

“Not my fault. Yer body makes me stupid. ‘m an actual dumb fuck, I…”

Nik’s soft chortles vibrated under Price's belly, rumbled around his cock still buried to the hilt, and Price grinned into his back. Those chuckles were delirious and fucked out, thoroughly satisfied, and Price felt a surge of masculine pride at his performance. He withdrew slowly, slumping to the side so he could urge Nik down against him. “You good? Nothin’ hurtin’?”

“I think I will be sore, but in a good way, no?”

“Yeah, maybe. Still. ‘m not packin’ your horse cock, so think yerself lucky.”

“You are exaggerating.”

“Nik, the first time ya fucked me, I had to stand up for the whole flight before a HALO…”

“The whole flight?” Nik asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, olrigh’. Jus’ sayin’, bit of practice, everythin’ bounces back jus’ fine.”

“Hmm. You expect this to be… regular, then.”

“Got a taste of your arse now, ‘m gonna need regular top ups,” Price said, grabbing a handful of Nik's arse cheek. He leaned up on his elbow and studied Nik's face carefully. “If yer alright with that. Don't wanna be doin’ anyfin’ yer not happy with, love.”

Nik hummed. “It was… intense. I would not be against it.”

“But?”

“Being inside of you is the closest I will ever come to God.”

“Ya jus’... come out with that shit like it's normal.”

“Da,” Nik turned and sat up on his elbow, one large paw of a hand slipping around John's jaw, thumb stroking down his throat. “Mere words are not enough to express my love for you, John. But I try.”

Price swallowed, trying to ignore the fact his eyes definitely wanted to emote far more than was truly necessary. Really. He should pull himself together, damn it. They'd just fucked raw and hard, and now he was being bloody wooed all over again.

“I love you, Nik. You soppy bastard,” he croaked, and then kissed the damn fucker before he could drop anymore purple prose and make actual tears fall.

[foxika]

surprised i haven’t see any fox lives aus exploring the idea of palpatine sending fox to hemlock/tantiss after getting his neck snapped Hemlock hesitates, staring through the glass window of the examination room and observing its main occupant. His medical staff fusses over their patient, a clone, as they record his vitals and situate the room for long term occupancy. "It is... Unlikely, that this clone will ever walk again, Your Majesty. The damage done to his neck is irreversible, that he even retained mobility in his torso is—" Hemlock had said. He was scrolling through a rather dire injury report. The Emperor waved his hand dismissively, black robes flowing with the motion. "I am aware, but what I require is not impossible. I will take care of the most severe damages to my commander..." My commander? Hemlock looked away from the datapad and to the immobile clone floating in the bacta tank. "...And when the time comes, I will require your facility to do the rest."

Hemlock refrained from frowning, keeping his expression neutral, albeit a bit dubious. If Emperor Palpatine wanted to waste his time with a lost cause, he wouldn't argue. Not as long as he continued to receive the necessary resources and further funding for his projects. Now, when Hemlock gazes upon that same clone all those months ago, he sits properly upright on the examination table, back straight and form perfect like a soldier. The clone turns his head, his golden eyes-a deviation from the standard brown, colour bordering unnatural in a human- meeting Hemlock's through the glass. Hemlock raises a brow in response but the clone doesn't react, only breaking eye contact when one of the medical aids calls for his attention. Folding his arms behind his back, Hemlock turns to stalk down the hall. He would never say it aloud, but he was irked that this... Chore was now his responsibility. He was a scientist! A progressive researcher and an invaluable asset to the Empire. That his facility is being forced to take on the task of physical therapy and rehabilitation, of all things, for one simple, damaged clone was insulting.

Hemlock exhales, forcing his posture to relax. His Imperial Majesty was making a mistake, clearly, but it was no matter. Hemlock would only need to check in occasionally; he could still focus his efforts where it really matters. His commander would be carefully monitored in the meantime, and maybe, Hemlock could learn how Palpatine managed to reverse what should have been a deathly injury. ♠♠♠♠

i imagine palpatine does ambiguous hand wave force healing to get fox back into tip top shape. well mostly back. fox still has a lot to work through. and then sends him off to wherever hemlock is, for reasons. he doesnt need hemlock's facility to host fox, he could easily give fox the care he needs closer to home. so maybe to have fox keep an eye on him and his progress, who knows really from there i kinda have a few paths this could take, one with omega eventually coming across fox, being mildly interested in him(he's not held in a cell like the rest of the clones, he's not a commando, why is he here?) and maybe later, nala se assigns her to him to keep her further out of the way of hemlock. all leading up to when omega and crosshair escape, she insists fox comes with them. fox doesnt want to (paranoid), crosshair doesnt want him to(also paranoid). think of the fox and rex reunion... the echo confrontation... the wolffe reunion... howzer bitching at both crosshair and fox... the drama of it all. another idea being fox meeting scorch again. since arca company barracks are stationed on coruscant, i imagine that fox has run into delta squad at least once. delta wasn't on coruscant often, and fox is busy guy. probably also doesn't care much for sobde either. (i imagine him and maze sending very petty emails to each other. fox saying "fuck you, i outrank you captain" in corporate)

and maybe when shit goes down on tantiss, he convinces scorch to dip with him. "you got your ass kicked, man. let's go."

throughout all of this fox maintains a creepy, unsettling presence on the base.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 37 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realized on the way to the lake house that he hadn't taken a vacation in years, but he already knew he was going to want to go on so many more with you and Noah. And you weren't going to let Bradley get away with an omission of precious information. In fact, you had several things to surprise him with as a result.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

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

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

The next morning while you made breakfast for yourself and your boys, you could hear Bradley on the phone in the living room. You stopped mixing up the bowl of pancake batter just in time to hear him say, "Hey Tracy, can you go ahead and finalize that updated copy of my will?" There was a short pause, and then he said, "Right, but if any assets need to be combined later, we can discuss it then. We can both come in and meet with you."

You wondered if he was talking about you, but then his voice got a little quieter at the same time Noah bounded into the kitchen. "Mommy, I don't want to go to the lake," he said, face practically crumbling into tears. 

"Why not?" you asked, setting everything aside to kneel and pull him in for a hug. "What's wrong? I thought you were so excited."

Then he started crying as he asked, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake? I don't want to see any big bears."

"Oh, sweet Noah," you whispered as you hugged him and tried not to laugh. Then it dawned on you that you actually weren't sure if there were any bears there or not. You knew it was a good three hour drive from San Diego up into the mountains, but you hadn't even considered that.

When Bradley walked into the kitchen to see you and Noah on the floor and his son in tears, he asked, "What's going on?"

You covered Noah's ears and whispered, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake?"

Bradley laughed for a few seconds, and then his expression turned contemplative. "I... actually have no idea. I'm going to go ahead and call Maverick." Then he was gone again, and you were left to try to coax Noah over to the kitchen table with the promise of some pancakes covered in melted butter. 

You were wiping his tears while the batter sizzled on the griddle. "It's okay. Daddy won't let anything bad happen to us."

"I know," he muttered, sniffling.

Bradley poked his head back into the kitchen. "It's very unlikely, especially this time of year," he said with a shrug.

"What does that mean?" Noah asked, and you were afraid the tears would be back as you flipped the pancakes.

If they wanted you to be the mom, then you were going to go ahead and be the mom here. "It means you have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? Now do you want to eat your breakfast on the red plate or the orange plate?" you asked, holding up both options. Noah pointed at the red plate, and Bradley walked in and kissed your forehead.

"Good save," he whispered. "You're a natural." He ran his hand along your tummy with a wink, and you felt yourself flush with heat. 

"You get the orange plate that nobody else wants," you told him with a breathy giggle. "Now go sit."

He did as he was told, and when you handed him his plate and a larger one with a stack of pancakes on it, he started to get one ready for Noah. "After this, I'll pack up the car and we can head out."

"Sounds good," you replied, adding a pancake to your own plate. You had discreetly packed some snacks for Noah on top of the box of items you didn't want Bradley to see, so you thought it was fine for him to pack the car. Once you were done eating, you took Noah into the living room and watched Bradley cart bag after bag and box after box out to the driveway. 

He was looking a little sweaty when he came back inside one last time. He took you by the hand and scooped Noah up as he said, "Can't forget to pack these two." He led you outside and kissed Noah all over his face while he laughed hysterically. After Noah was buckled in and reassured that you had packed him ants on logs to eat during the drive, Bradley was pulling away from the house. 

Once he was on the highway and you had started up the kid friendly playlist, he sighed. "I'm so happy you made a playlist for Noah so I don't have to listen to the Sesame Street soundtrack or something equally egregious." 

"Isn't Sesame Street from the '70s? Just like you?" It was so hard not to laugh as you asked him that. 

"Funny," he deadpanned. "I was born in 1984. You know how old I am." 

"Do I?" you asked, your voice taking on an accusatory edge as Noah asked you to hand him more snacks. 

"Mmm," Bradley hummed as he drove. You and he held hands, and you offered to drive if he got tired. "I'll be fine," he promised softly. "Why don't you just relax? It looks like Noah is about to doze off."

"Okay, Daddy." You squirmed down in your seat until your cheek was resting on his hand, and then you fell asleep, too.

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

Bradley tried his best to drive one handed up the rough trail toward the house, but he really needed two hands at this point. His right hand also happened to be asleep from the way you'd cuddled up with your head on him. "Princess," said, wiggling his fingers beneath you. "I need my hand back."

You moaned as you sat up, but when you looked out the window, you gasped. "It's beautiful here!" The early afternoon sunlight was reflecting off the lake and the mountains beyond. It was stunning, and Bradley realized it had been years since he'd taken any proper time off from work that didn't involve a day at home with Noah while he was too sick for daycare. 

"If you enjoy this weekend together, you're going to have to make sure I take some vacation time. Because I actually never do."

"Is this some sort of joke? Of course, I'm going to love this weekend! I get to spend it with my boys! And wait... are you telling me you've never taken Noah to Disneyland?"

"Never."

"Daddy!" you complained loudly. "I thought you were a good parent!"

Bradley laughed as he looked for the correct driveway. "Clearly we needed you, Baby. You make us better."

He could practically feel you preening next to him as he put on his turn signal and pulled up the long driveway. "You need to take that sweet child to Disneyland. And you need to get him a dog," you said, kissing his cheek as Bradley pulled up next to Penny's car. 

"So this has nothing to do with you wanting to go to Disneyland and you wanting to get a dog?"

"Not at all," you said, but you were smiling. "This is about what's best for the child."

"Right," he said once the engine was turned off. Then he kissed you, wrapping his hand around your neck before letting his fingers dip down into your shirt to toy with your bra strap. "Hey," he murmured against your lips. 

"Hmm," you hummed, pulling his lip between yours and nibbling softly. God he just wanted to take you inside for some uninterrupted sex, but he knew he'd have to get through the afternoon and evening first. 

"I love you," he whispered, running his fingers down to cup you through your bra. 

"Daddy?" Noah called from the backseat, and you broke the kiss immediately. 

"Yeah, Bub?" Bradley asked, his eyes still on you as you smiled at him. He couldn't seem to help himself; thoughts of diamond rings and the perfect proposal were always near the surface now. He kissed your nose and then turned to look at Noah.

"Don't let the bears come out, okay?" he asked softly, a smudge of peanut butter on his cheek. 

"I won't," he promised, and you were already climbing out of the Bronco and walking around to get Noah. Bradley was just so impressed with the way you pulled a wet wipe out of your purse to wipe Noah's hands and face before you got him out of the car. You always had everything under control in a way that he just never seemed to be able to do alone. 

"We'll be inside saying hi to everyone," you called over your shoulder, and Bradley was left to unload everything. Every time he carried bags inside the house, he could hear everyone talking and laughing. When he finally made his way into the sprawling kitchen where everyone else had congregated, Penny rushed over to give him a hug.

"Pete and I are so happy the three of you could come!" she said, giving him a tight squeeze. Amelia was chasing Noah around the room while you talked to Maverick. The house was beautiful, and he finally felt relaxed. 

"Thanks for inviting us," he replied as Maverick kissed your cheek and headed toward Bradley. 

"Grab your sunglasses. It's time to test out the boat."

"Boat?" Bradley asked. And about five minutes later, he was holding on tight to the side of a speedboat as Maverick drove it around the lake. 

"This thing is fast!" Bradley shouted over the engine. The man was addicted to pushing things to the limit, and Bradley would have to make sure he was driving the boat if Noah came with them next time. 

Maverick finally eased off the throttle once they were out in the middle of the lake, and Bradley was able to let go of his death grip on the boat. "Grab a beer," Maverick said, gesturing to the small cooler he brought along. "So, tell me, Bradley, you going to make that girl a permanent fixture?"

Bradley laughed as he opened a can and took a sip. "The thing is, she's pretty much been a permanent fixture since the beginning, at least as far as Noah is concerned."

Maverick nodded and opened his own beer. "I heard him calling her his mom."

"Yeah," Bradley replied, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as his brow creased. "I encouraged that. Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Like ever. But that felt right."

"Well, if you're keeping her around, and you plan on marrying her, then she really is his mom."

Bradley thought better than to mention his updated will, but he nodded. "Been thinking about it a lot, actually. I'm going to propose soon. In a few more weeks, we will have known each other for six months. Noah and I are sure about her, and that seems like a good amount of time to wait before buying a ring."

"That sounds like a very solid plan."

Bradley smiled at his dad's best friend. "Don't you dare tell Penny. She talks too much," Bradley warned.

"I won't."

"I want to surprise her and make everything perfect." He already had some ideas, but in his mind, you deserved perfection. You'd put up with just being his babysitter for way too long while he tried to convince himself you weren't the one for him. And you'd dealt with Meredith like you would have protected Noah with your life. You'd be the best mom, and Bradley wanted you to be his wife. He was thirty seven now. He knew you were the one. It was time. 

Luckily, he was able to convince Maverick to let him drive the boat back to the dock, and he took things at a much slower pace. He passed a few other people out boating on the way back and decided he'd bring you and Noah out with him tomorrow or on Sunday when it was supposed to be even warmer. 

On the walk back up to the house, Bradley's steps slowed as he asked, "Were those lights hanging up like that before?"

Maverick looked at the strings of sloppily hung twinkle lights all over the porch and scratched his chin. "I don't think so?"

"This was definitely not here earlier," Bradley remarked when he opened the front door to reveal an eight foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the living room. It looked like someone had thrown strands of lights at it from across the room, and there was Christmas music playing. "What the hell?"

"Happy birthday!" 

Bradley and Maverick both turned toward the kitchen where Noah was sitting on the island and the three women were standing. You looked absolutely delighted with everything that was going on as you waved them in. 

"What's going on, Baby?" he asked as you walked over and took him by the hand. 

"It's your birthday party! Mav's too!"

"Why is everything decorated for Christmas?" he asked with a laugh, because you, Penny and Amelia clearly thought this was normal. And Noah was giggling as he colored in a Christmas coloring book.

"It's Christmas in July!" you explained, still leaving so many unanswered questions. 

"Apparently the house is a popular holiday rental," Penny added as Mav hugged her. "And all of the Christmas decorations were already here, so we just rolled with it."

Bradley pulled you tight to him, careful to keep his hands on only the most appropriate of body parts. "My birthday was a month ago. When I was deployed."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me know," you said sarcastically, lightly smacking his cheek before kissing it and pushing your fingers into his hair. "I had no idea until I saw your driver's license out last week. You deprived yourself of a proper party, so now you get Christmas in July."

"And Maverick's birthday is in August," Bradley added with a huge smile.

"We don't play by the rules," Amelia said. "We have Christmas cookies to decorate and a movie to watch."

So Bradley spent the evening of what actually wasn't his thirty seventh birthday licking frosting off your cheek while you laughed and then holding Noah during the movie Elf. It seemed absolutely ridiculous as the oversize French doors were open to let in the summer air and the sounds of crickets chirping. It was also somehow exactly perfect, and it reminded him that he was allowed to have all these things in his life now that you were there. You'd probably want to do things like celebrate his birthday every year and decorate the house. And Noah would get to benefit from all of it. 

"I want another birthday movie," Noah said as he yawned uncontrollably. 

"Not tonight," Bradley told him as he carried him to the small bedroom where you'd already unpacked his things for the weekend. He changed Noah into pajamas and read the dinosaur book you'd left out on the dresser, and pretty soon his son was sound asleep. 

It wasn't too late yet; Bradley could still hear the others out in the main living space, but he decided to see if you'd gone to the bedroom already. "Princess?" he called as he walked into the pretty wood paneled room that had a view of the lake and the last bits of purple sky as it got darker. Then you came strolling out of the en suite bathroom in nothing but a tiny lace bra and matching panties. 

"Are you ready for your birthday present?" you asked sweetly, draping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips. 

"Oh, I like my birthday present," he murmured as he ran his hands down your back to cup your ass. 

You kissed along his neck and whispered, "You could have had some special treatment sooner if you told me when your birthday was, Daddy."

He grunted, both from the feel of your lips on his skin and because he knew you'd find out when it was eventually. "I just feel a little self-conscious sometimes about my age."

Your mouth paused, and then you were looking up at him like you were embarrassed. "But I tease you all the time."

"I know," he replied right away. "I know, and I love it when you do. It's not that." You combed your fingers through his hair and gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm just more than twelve years older than you. Sometimes it seems like a lot."

"That doesn't matter at all," you replied, holding eye contact with him. "In fact, I think I like it more this way. It's so much better being with someone who is serious about me and has his life together." One hand trailed down to his chest as you added, "It's almost flattering, the fact that you love me."

"I do," he said, watching your hand slip lower down his body. "I love you."

You smiled softly as your hand rested on the fly of his pants. "Happy birthday." You undid the front of his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his underwear. He was semi hard and getting harder by the second as you bit your lip and sank down to your knees. And then you opened your mouth so Bradley could set his cock right there on your glossy bottom lip.

"That looks pretty," he muttered, already breathing harder as you ran your tongue along his tip. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently, eyes bright and cheeks hollow. His cock was throbbing for you now, but he was enjoying the way you weren't taking him deep yet.

He kept his hands soft on your face, stroking his thumb along your chin and jaw. And then you reached up with both hands and wrapped them around his base as you withdrew him and kissed along his shaft. "I love you, Daddy." Then you took him deep in one go until you were gagging and he was seeing stars. His hands were rougher now at the back of your head, holding you in place while he grunted and groaned. 

When you moaned around him, he released his grip on your head, and you popped him out of your mouth with a little gasp, and some strings of saliva dripped down to your chest. "More?" you asked, and he just nodded as you took him deep over and over again. Every time you gagged, you let him push a little harder, and you had tears in your eyes as you pulled him free and abruptly stood to kiss him.

Your tongue was in his mouth, and Bradley's hands gripped your ass as you ground against him. "Mmm, Bradley," you whined. "Ready for your present?"

He tucked his fingers inside your lace underwear and teased at your holes as your eyes went a little wider. "Is this not my present right here?" he grunted, trying to decide how he wanted to get off.

You shook your head in a jerky motion and whispered, "Not exactly..." Your voice was breathless and broken as you said, "If you think we can financially support a baby, and it's what you really want, then I'll let you flush my birth control down the toilet."

Bradley was gaping at you. A baby. With you. No more birth control. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," you replied. "I'm ovulating and I skipped my pill yesterday, and I want you to fuck a baby into me."

Bradley tipped his head back and moaned at how perfect that sounded coming from you. "Where are the pills?" he asked. 

"Bathroom counter," you replied, and he kissed you so hard you were clinging to him.

Bradley hauled you into the bathroom with him where he popped each remaining pill out of the packaging with unsteady fingers and his erection hanging out of his jeans. You were squeezing your thighs together and whining softly as he swept them into the toilet and flushed it before he rounded on you. 

"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he asked, voice dark and rough. 

"Yes."

"Then I'll fuck a baby into you." He picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, and Bradley carried you to the bed. He set you down gently on your back and marveled at how perfect you looked for him. You were playing with your tits and already getting a little loud as you watched him get undressed. 

And then he was on top of you, his cock aching to be inside you. He just kept thinking about you all pregnant and swollen as he pushed the lace covering your perfect pussy to the side and thrust into you hard and sure.

"Bradley!" you nearly screamed, scrambling beneath him and clawing at his shoulders. But he didn't stop the steady powerful thrusts that pushed you down into the mattress. He had to bring one big hand up to cover your mouth as he grunted.

"Keep quiet, Baby. Unless you want everyone to know how good it feels when I try to knock you up."

You nodded and moaned against his palm, but he just fucked you harder. Your legs were shaking as you spread them wider for him, and your fingers were tangled in the bedding. When your tits bounced free from that tiny bra, Bradley put his mouth on you, pulling your nipples gently one at a time. 

Soft squeaking noises and moans escaped you as he pressed his lips to your ear. "I'm gonna cum. You always make me cum. You always give me everything, don't you? Don't you, Princess? I'm gonna give you a ring, and you'll give us a baby. I'll give you anything."

You were shaking all over as he rammed deep and spilled himself inside you. He was panting hard when he slipped his hand away from your mouth, and then your lips were on his in the sweetest kisses. 

"I'm sorry I was rough," he whispered, running his fingers along your skin. "You okay?"

"I'm so good, Daddy. That was hot. I hope you liked your birthday present."

Bradley eased his body away from yours a few inches and gazed down to where you and he were still so perfectly connected. "Not sure if you or the unprotected sex was the actual gift, but either way, I liked my birthday present a lot."

You giggled as he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, keeping you close. "You said something about a ring."

"Did I?" he mumbled. He knew he was rambling while he fucked you, but he wasn't sure exactly what he'd been saying. Apparently it was a lot. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed as he ran his fingers along your lace bra, but you didn't push for more. "So what's on the agenda for the rest of the weekend? And when are you going to get us a dog? And when are we taking Noah to Disneyland?"

Bradley narrowed his eyes at you playfully. "Boating and barbecues for the rest of the weekend. And as for the dog and Disneyland? Just let me enjoy my fake Christmas-birthday in peace. Because I'm sure it will be my last one without a dog who is constantly bugging me to let it outside or to play with it."

You settled down on top of him, placing a kiss to his pecs with a smirk. "That's absolutely correct. You just enjoy yourself while you still can."

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

When Bradley kissed you the next morning and whispered, "I'll be back. Going out to buy fishing bait with Noah and Mav," you just grunted in response. The sun was barely up, and as you rolled over, you could feel the delicious aftermath of the way Bradley had fucked you so hard. You were tired and a little sore in all the right places. Very carefully, you extracted yourself from the bed and padded along the floor to the bathroom. 

He had flushed your birth control instantly, and you giggled just thinking about it. There was no turning back now, and you were so excited. You already had a family, and like Bradley, the idea of adding to it was enough to make you melt inside. 

Since you didn't have to rush to get Noah ready, you took your time with your hair and makeup even though you were just going out on the lake for the day. You changed into your purple bikini and slipped your purple sundress over it, both of which you had purchased using your credit card. 

When you made your way out to the kitchen, Penny was assembling sandwiches, and you could tell she was wearing her bathing suit, too. "Where's Amelia?" you asked, washing your hands so you could help her.  

"She's a teenager," Penny replied with a laugh. "She sleeps until noon. You'll see one day when Noah is older."

You pressed your lips together, because you weren't so far removed from those years yourself. But you also felt butterflies in your tummy as you thought about the fact that Penny stated so confidently that you'd be there when Noah was older. And now you were hoping you'd be there with Bradley for more than one teenage kid.

"He's so sweet," you said as you cut the crust off one of the sandwiches for Noah. "Don't remind me that he'll be a surly teenager one day."

Penny eyed you carefully. "You'll handle it well. You already do. I still can't believe you started out as the babysitter, while Bradley was delusionally going on dates with other women. And I can't believe I didn't notice the way he looked at you at first."

You ducked your head. "I didn't notice for a few weeks myself. I just knew I was already attached to the two of them."

"We're back!" Bradley called out, carrying Noah into the kitchen. And he was immediately looking at you just like he always did, and you couldn't help but smile. 

"And we have worms!" Noah said, holding onto a little styrofoam container. 

"And more beer," Maverick added as he set two six packs down on the counter.

"Well we have sandwiches and ants on logs and lemonade and kisses," you said, taking the worm container from Noah and kissing his cheek and then Bradley's. 

Amelia finally emerged from her bedroom as Noah started whining that he wanted to go on the boat and go fishing. "I'll take him down to the marina now so he can look at the water," Bradley said, but you shook your head.

"I'll take him. You help carry the coolers," you said, taking Noah by the hand and leading him past the Christmas tree. "We'll meet you all down there."

You grabbed your tote bag which was filled with coloring books and other activities for Noah, and then you and he walked down toward the boats while you sang his favorite dinosaur song together. And then you realized you didn't actually know which boat was yours for the weekend, so you led Noah out onto the long dock to wait for the others. 

"Make sure you hold my hand. The water is really deep here," you reminded him as he peeked over the side to look into the water.

"Where are the fish?" he asked as he looked up at you. At least he was no longer asking about the bears. 

"I think the fish are out in the middle of the lake," you told him. 

"Well, how do we catch them? With our hands?"

"Oh, sweet Noah, I love you so much. The boat has fishing rods."

"What does that mean?" he asked, still looking down into the water. 

You looked around at the boats docked in the slips and pointed to one behind you. "Fishing rods are those long things sticking up into the air on that boat. Come look." You led Noah down the narrower wooden dock between two large boats so he could see what you were talking about, and that's when you saw a man about Bradley's age looking down at you and Noah.

"Hi there," he said with a wink as he looked you up and down. And now you felt like your cute little dress was nonexistent as you awkwardly stood there looking up at him.

"We were just checking out your fishing rod," you told him, but he wasn't looking at Noah at all as he grinned. And you realized that it sounded like you were talking about his penis, and you wished you could just disappear. 

He jumped down onto the dock with a laugh. "Oh yeah? I'll let you touch it if you want."

"No thanks," you replied with a grimace. You turned to leave, your hand still gripping Noah's, but the man headed you off. And now you were looking around for the others, because he was blocking the narrow path with his body.

"Now just hang on a minute," he said, pulling his sunglasses off, presumably so he could see you better. "You look beautiful. What do they call you?"

Noah looked up at him and said, "She's my Daddy's Princess."

The man was finally looking down at Noah, and you didn't like that either. So you mumbled something as your heart pounded, and you shoved past him, making sure Noah didn't walk too close to the edge of the dock. He kept calling out to you as you walked along a different part of the pier, but a moment later you could see Bradley walking down in the distance holding one end of a long cooler and sipping a beer.

"There's Daddy and Mav," Noah said, and you picked him up to rush in that direction. 

"Let's go get him." They were setting the cooler down next to a boat that was smaller than the other one with the huge fishing rods, and thankfully it was in the other direction as well. 

"Hey, Bub!" Bradley called out, and when you got closer, he took his son from your arms as you were slightly out of breath. 

"We didn't know which boat to go to," you told him.

"It's this little white one," he said, kissing your cheek. "You look beautiful."

"That's what the other man said," Noah told him.

Bradley's brow creased instantly. "What other man?" he asked, looking around everywhere. 

"It was nothing," you said, but Noah pointed toward the other boat immediately. 

"In the big, blue boat. Mommy was looking at his fishing rod, and he told her she was beautiful, and I said she's my Daddy's Princess."

Bradley kissed his cheek, and said, "Good job, Noah. She's your Mommy and my Princess." He set Noah down inside the boat where Maverick immediately started getting his life jacket buckled before he helped Penny and Amelia onboard as well.

But Bradley had one of his big hands on your hip as he slid his aviators down on his nose and smirked. "You were looking at a man's fishing rod?" he asked softly, an edge of annoyed humor in his tone.

"Oh, come on," you said, rolling your eyes and laughing. "I wanted Noah to see what a fishing rod looks like, and there were a bunch lined up on that boat."

Bradley nodded and kissed your forehead. "We've got some fishing rods on this boat, and I have a special one just for you."

You bit your lip and tried not to laugh. When Bradley said it, you absolutely wanted to learn more. When that other guy said it, you wanted to jump in the water and try to swim back to San Diego. "Really, Daddy?" you asked in your most eager voice. "When can I try it out?" 

He groaned softly and cupped your face, kissing you softly as he said, "Try to behave for a couple of hours, and it's all yours."

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

Welcome! We are in our baby making era now! Even more lake house goodness coming soon! Also, if Noah sees a bear, he will never forgive Bradley and Princess. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 38

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