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elvisabutler · 2 years

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whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more

summary: austin's always been good with his mouth. austin normally is clean shaven. bikeriders means no shaving. you reap the benefits. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female plus sized reader ( you can read it in a non-plus sized way, but i specifically intended for it to be plus sized ) word count: 2087 warnings: facesitting. minor implications of sub austin. reader and austin mildly being simps for each other. semi-inexperienced reader in the realm of female oral? oh! also oral ( f receiving ). austin's facial hair because bikeriders is designed to make us all feral. author's note: welcome to day 26 of kinktober, facesitting with austin butler. this is late as all hell and took me longer than i intended but i do quite enjoy this piece. ideally i'm going to have more pieces out this weekend, possibly being able to finish off kinktober ( or kinkvember i guess now? ) but we'll see.

You have always been a little iffy on facial hair. Sometimes some men will pull it off beautifully, others just- well it looks like a sad collection of peach fuzz. As it turns out, Austin is someone who doesn't necessarily prefer growing out his facial hair so it's never been something you've had to necessarily worry about thinking about the particulars. Even when he did, it was more of a shadow of true facial hair or facial hair for a part. It was something easily dealt with.

Your friends though, your friends swore that you wouldn't have lived until Austin grew out his facial hair properly and ate you out. They knew that you and Austin- after a great deal of trial and error discovered a way to indulge in oral that made you feel comfortable with it. Austin had told you that it didn't necessarily matter how he got off- if he got off when he was eating you out because in his mind, that act was about pleasuring you versus pleasuring himself. So your comfort with the act was the only thing that truly mattered. It's why he had led you slowly into it, first on a couch, then at the edge a chair and a countertop and finally the edge of the bed and the bed itself. You've never tried to just ride his face in the bed but- you know why. You both know why even if you won't put it into words and Austin respects you enough not to push.

Still you figure everyone is being a bit silly about the whole thing when it comes to facial hair and oral. It couldn't be that different and even if it was, it was likely more uncomfortable than anything else, after all, beard burn on your face was bad, you couldn't imagine it on your vagina and on your thighs.

Austin had warned you that he might look a little different during your last phone call with him, a short affair that had him shouting that he was coming hold on to someone in the background and you wishing not for the first time lately that Austin had used FaceTime to call you even though he had said the reason he didn't is because one of you was always doing something that required you to not have the camera on anyway. So you had prepared yourself for at best a bit of fuzz on his face. Perhaps his hair was getting long enough that it was inching toward the long hair you kind of missed. Maybe his muscles had gotten a little larger, you figured, all the better to lift you up and keep you in his arms for longer. What greeted you in your kitchen when you came home from grocery shopping was genuinely nothing you could have even imagined.

"Hey baby." His voice sounds tired-exhausted even- but his eyes light up as he takes you in, taking note of the sundress you have on and wondering if you knew he'd show up and see you in it, see you lighting up his whole world. God, he had missed you.

Your eyes take in the way Austin's worrying his lower lip between his teeth and as a consequence your eyes also take in his facial hair. You had never seen him with this much, it's a whole goatee and beard combination that has your breath catching in your throat. You mange to squeak out a word in response. "Hi."

Austin's brow quirks up as he tilts head at your strange response. He's been gone this long and shows up looking this different and your response is just a single "hi"? That didn't make sense at all and so he looks at you, eyes trailing from your feet all the way up to your face. He stops at your chest for a moment, seeing how you seem to be taking slow measured breaths that you only take when you're turned on and wanting to hide the fact. When his eyes settle on your face he notices how your eyes are a little lidded and if he got close enough he's pretty sure he could see that your pupils are likely blown. Oh, so that was the problem. He could take that, he could enjoy that.

"Hi." He grins back at you, walking closer to you, pushing you against the counter and using his body to bracket yours against it. "Missed me?"

You bite your lip, breathing in through your nose like that will help the overwhelming desire you feel forming in the pit of your stomach. Austin's still looking at you with a glint in his eyes that has you very quickly realizing that you're going to need to answer him because he wil not let it go if you don't. Not trusting your voice, you nod.

His grin- the charming grin you're used to that's made you fall to your knees before morphs into a smirk as he bends his head down to kiss your neck, making sure his facial hair brushes against you. It's softer than you thought it would be and yet at the same time you can feel the burn of it, feel how it drags along your sensitive neck. Your breathing quickens.

"You missed me a lot, didn't you? You like the new look?" He murmurs against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw where he just lazily mouths at it.

Your next breath is shaky as if it's trying and failing to contain every desire just looking at Austin's face is inspiring in you. It takes a moment but you finally are able to speak. "I do? Surprisingly? It's a good look on you."

The words come out in a rush and Austin chuckles lowly, his hand drifting down to between your legs, ruching up your dress until he can feel your underwear covered cunt. His fingers dance on the edge of the fabric. "You do?" He moves the underwear to the side just a bit before allowing a single finger of his to enter you. A hiss escapes your lips.

"I do." You choke out, your hips rolling just a bit. "Austin?"

"Hm?" He hums, allowing his finger to leisurely play with your folds, to trace them just slightly while smiling softly at you.

"If you don't pick me up and take me to bed, I think I may die in this kitchen. Or murder you, I don't know which." You spit out in a rush before biting at your lips and feeling a hint of shame at how quickly you said it. That shame is quickly overcome when you see just how delighted Austin is looking at you after you say it and how quickly- and easily- he lifts you up to carry you to the bed.

It's a flurry of thrown clothes and while you had planned on getting on the bed first, somehow Austin had beaten you and was staring at you with a look of dangerous intent on his face. You gaze at him with a frown before he speaks.

"i want you to sit on my face, baby." He says bluntly, his spit covered hand stroking his already hard cock, smearing precum and spit on the head. You shake your head before he holds up his hand. "No, I- please, baby, let me do it. Let me feel you fully on my face like that, no half in and half out sort of thing."

"Aus-" You start before you see his face. His stupid face pouting and looking more angelic than he has any right to look when his cock is in his hand.

"Please." He begs with one simple word and you find yourself sighing and moving to position yourself. Austin for his part shimmies down the bed enough to make it comfortable for both of you. Your thighs bracket his head, and you find yourself holding your body up too scared to actually sit as you look down at Austin.

"Austin- you- we- I don't want to-" You start and stop your sentence a million times. You're not self conscious about your weight, far from it, you've embraced it as a part of you, a part you know Austin adores. But you also know the realities of things, know that there's more to you than some girls and that can be a problem if you're going to be on top of someone. "We can just do it the normal way."

Austin's eyes tear themselves away from your practically dripping cunt with a low growl as he looks up at your face. "Stop worrying that you're going to suffocate me and sit on my face, babe."

"What if you need-" The question dies on your lips as Austin grabs at your thighs, his fingers digging in just a way that has you gasping.

"I'll tap these gorgeous thighs of yours and you'll get up. Babe. Darling- It's fine. I want to do this, I need to do this for you." Austin tone inches toward pleading as he grips your thighs tight enough that you know there's likely to be some bruising and you find you don't mind. You take a shaky breath as you lower yourself slowly, feeling at first the scratch of his facial hair, feeling it tickle your skin lightly but then you feel Austin's very familiar tongue and you find yourself sinking down lower, reveling in how Austin groans against your cunt, his tongue starting to move in the way that's familiar to you. It feels as if he's deeper- or if he's more involved. His nose brushes against your clit as he licks at you like a starving man, trying to savor every last bit of your arousal. His facial hair does not- burn as everyone seems to describe, instead providing a tickle- an added sensation as you focus on letting yourself go. In normal circumstances you wouldn't grind on Austin's face, finding it to be a little strange when he's got you hanging off the edge of the bed or the counter or wherever but now in this moment, you can't help the way your hips start to grind against Austin's mouth. He growls, his teeth nipping at your clit earning a sharp inhale and a choked off whimper from your lips. The quicker you feel his mouth move the more you're spurred on to grind, to chase the high your boyfriend is bringing you. You haven't felt him tap your thigh so you think you're safe- you marvel at why you ever stopped Austin from doing this before.

Maybe you were just waiting for the right time, maybe you were just waiting for this particular time when his face isn't clean shaven, when it's not just stubbled, no he's got actual facial hair you can play with, you can rub your hand and your cunt against. Your hands move down to his hair, finding purchase there as you feel his tongue sliding against you in just the right way and you feel yourself falling. Your orgasms normally take enough to build up to that you can sense them before they come but this hits you like a truck, barreling through your body and causing you to groan so low you swear you reach another register of your voice. Austin's tongue still is flicking against your twitching cunt, stimulating you in a way that is inching toward being too much so you force your legs to try and work, pulling Austin's hands off your thighs and moving off of his face.

You can see your fluids glistening against his beard, turning the shade of blonde just a bit darker in a way it only does when his hair is wet. It makes you feel a little- well, feral, to be honest something about the image pinging a territorial beast inside you that has you wanting to see that over and over before he has to shave it off. The thoughts you find yourself indulging in while looking at him are cut short but Austin's tiny laugh as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, a low sound coming from his chest.

"We'll talk more about that look I see on your face later. Think you can ride me a second time, baby?"

You grin and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and smelling yourself in his facial hair. "And a third if you're lucky, Mr. Butler."

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfiction #ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes

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creedslove · 9 months

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Pedro is so much not my type, yet I'm so in love with every character he plays.

Like. He is not my type of handsome, but oh my god he is so handsome sometimes. Like. The smile?! Nose wrinkles?! Crows feet around his eyes?! Patchy beard?! How someone can be opposite of what you like, and be at the same time this beautiful handsome person you just LOVE to look at. So weird.

Anyway.

Marcus with and without a beard is stunning!

Can you imagine you see him for the first time with a stubble and you just can't stop staring. Touching his scratchy face. You kiss his cheeks, because it's a new feeling, and you like it. But Marcus is little shy about all the attention 🙈

Marcus Pike x f!reader

A/N: I understand it completely anon, as I said here a couple of times, before liking Pedro, I never thought he was the kind of guy I would like when it came to his looks; I never really paid attention to him, but the little I had seen him on Twitter or passing by when my dad was watching tlou was that he was a normal looking guy. And then once I started really liking him I got more and more used to his features and to me there isn't a more handsome man in the world! I agree with everything you said! He's the whole package, everything about him is beautiful and the best part is knowing he's beautiful inside and out, so it's not only looks, he's also a great person and idk I just really like Pedro and I don't mean to be NFSW but I want to hug him so tight lol 😆

Also, I'm sorry but your ask exceeded the cute limit™ so I had to kidnap it and turn it into a headcanon ❤️

• you couldn't wait to see Marcus after nearly three months of going undercover; you hated he had to do that kind of job, not only was it extremely dangerous but you hated that you completely lost touch with him

• so you were very excited to meet him again after all that time, your feelings for each other were growing but were also unresolved and you deeply regretted not coming forward about it sooner

• the moment you walked into the office and saw Marcus there, your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest; his hair was longer now, you could even see some curls forming at the same time he let his beard grow a little

• you'd always been used to his clean shaven face and you loved it; you loved his sharp jaw, his dimples, his beautiful lips, you loved all of him, but you were also so mesmerized by his stubble, though he looked more mature with it, his boyish smile hadn't changed one bit

"Marcus!!!"

• you squealed running to him, he held his arms open for you, but you stopped inches from him, your hand carefully stroking against his cheek, feeling it underneath your palm and loving it

• he was a little shy at first, you had never stroked him like that, but he also enjoyed it

"I was going to shave it as soon as I got home..."

• he blushed softly but you shook your head

"leave it for a couple of days at least, it suits you"

• you giggled and kissed his cheeks, loving how your lips felt against the burn of his recent beard, you knew you had never taken such liberties with him before but at that moment, it didn't really matter, it felt very good

• when you were finally done with his facial hair, you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him for a tight kiss, burying your face into the crook of his neck, you felt so safe and so happy to have him back

"please, never go undercover again, I missed you too much"

• you gave him the puppy eyes and he nodded, his arms wrapped tight around you as he thought that maybe his feelings for you weren't as unrequited as he thought they were

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike headcanons #marcus pike headcanon

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moody4world · 2 years

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Slip up

A/N: lil short idea that just came to me after urbans ‘accident’ Idk i thought this was pretty funny💀🪒

Urb was in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully touching up his beard and his mustache for the beginning of tour tonight. He was so focused that he didn’t hear you coming into the bedroom, let alone the bathroom.

“Urby baby have you seen my-“ “FUCK” Urban flinched caught by surprise. Bad mistake. you gasped and your palm flew to cover your mouth in shock.

“OH MY GOD” Urban turned slowly towards you with his eyes wide in shock. Your shocked expression mirrored his identically and you immediately felt guilty. “Urban i am SO SO sorryyyy” you had no idea what to do or what you could possibly do to fix it. Urban simply stood there staring at you, still trying to process what had just happened. The entire left side of his mustache was now gone. CLEAN shaven. “Aw man now i gotta shave everything off or its gonna look all weird” He was so upset but there was nothing else he could do.

A few minutes later he came downstairs fully dressed with a clean shave. Smooth chubby cheeks out on display and you couldn’t help but gush about how adorable he looked. Urban however was definitely not amused. He felt that he looked like a child without his beard but you would reassure him every day that its not true if you had to.

“I can help you grow that beard Urban thats all im saying” he looked at you suspiciously, not understanding how you could possibly help him grow his beard. “What do you mean by that?” he said quoting Druskis meme, copying the tone and the facial expressions and the both of you started laughing until you had tears.

#moody4world #moody fics #urban wyatt x reader

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 10 months

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was bored so i played around with faceapp and gave ewan a beard (which he probably will never be able to grow cuz billy w was the hairiest his baby oily face could get) and oh my fucking god it’s probably for the best he cant grow a beard cause he would be too powerful

I am so sorry, but--

I'm so glad he keeps himself clean shaven, and this is coming from someone whose husband has a huge beard, hahaha.

#asked and answered

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rexxdjarin · 1 year

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Top 10 Cody headcanons (SFW and/or NSFW, up to you!)

Hope you’re well 😘

HI MOLLY💙💙

Ooooo ok top 10 Cody headcanons:

Obviously loves sunsets and sunrise. He grew up on a stormy/rainy planet. Seeing a bright sun paint the sky a million different colors was him seeing hopes and dreams in real life for the very first time.

Prefers to be clean shaven. He’s just not a beard guy. He can grow one like practically overnight he just doesn’t like that look for himself.

He is meticulous about his hair though. It’s well kept and coiffed, all the keep the curls neat and tight and orderly. But occasionally when he lets it grow out a little long the loose curls will fall on his forehead and he thinks he looks rather good that way.

He’s much more romantic than he seems. He likes candlelit dinners and walking through a beautiful flower filled garden or meadow. He’s more dreamy than any of his men would ever guess in a million years.

He’s smart. Like really genuinely smart. Like scholarly thinker kinda smart. He thinks about the galaxy and all the different topics within it in a very deep way. He could’ve been a philosopher or something. And having deep conversations with his General only furthered his philosophical pensive mind.

He’s a BDSM extraordinaire. He’s a total rough dom and is into just about anything. (Responsibly and with perfect agreed upon boundaries and consent established of course).

He likes to write. Whether it’s reports or just his thoughts or a diary. He likes to think therefore likes to write.

He does like to drink. The good stuff though. Expensive whiskey (whatever the Star Wars equivalent is) is his favorite.

Because he thinks deeply and because he’s seen a lot, he suffers from depression later on in life. Especially post order 66 for obvious reasons. And it’s really, really hard for him because he’s alone. I think that’s partly why he’s different from the other clones when we see him in TBB. He feels guilty and he knows morally everything he was forced to do was so so wrong. He’s really going through it and I hope we find out he’s doing ok.

Him sparring in the gym or training or boxing is legitimately the hottest thing in the world because he lets himself unload. The punching bag can take his anger without actually hurting anyone and he looks so good with his muscles all bulging and covered in a little sweat oh my god😮‍💨

#commander cody headcanon #marshal commander cody headcanon #commander cody

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deprivedmusicaljunkie · 1 year

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I posted 14,703 times in 2022

That's 12,374 more posts than 2021!

666 posts created (5%)

14,037 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-astro-ambassadors

@sabertoothwalrus

@shellyseashell

@greenalmond

@riverside-lavender

I tagged 2,164 of my posts in 2022

#tlc - 67 posts

#the lunar chronicles - 51 posts

#linh cinder - 24 posts

#wolf kesley - 24 posts

#prev - 23 posts

#scarlet benoit - 23 posts

#jacin clay - 22 posts

#winter hayle blackburn - 20 posts

#my art - 20 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#they’re not completely devoid of love for their daughter but they’re only doing it to convince themselves that they’re not horrible people

My Top Posts in 2022:

give me the most random tlc hc's you have about the crew during the revolution

oh yes please!

number one, wolflet DID NOT HAVE SEX ON THE RAMPION VIOLETA I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH ON THIS

wolf sang to himself and hummed while making coffee

jacin was purposely luxurious in using the rampion’s supplies. maybe because it had been a while before he could be mean to his peers without punishment, so he took this chance to mess with cinder. because he’s a little bitch.

iko and cress were very close. their friendship started when iko cut her hair and cress confessed to iko about her feelings for thorne. i have no idea if iko’s mental age is fourteen or forty five, but i think it’d be a fun experience for her to just be a girl and have fun. and cress totally did weird technology programming stuff to her. sounds creepy but. oh well.

kaider had unsatisfactory sex for the first time on the rampion and felt a little embarrassed about it for a while, but they eventually powered through it and kept their relationship strong.

wolf wanted to grow a beard, like a huge one, but felt that it would only bring attention to the fact that he’s TWENTY THREE YEARS OLD, so reluctantly kept it clean shaven. he and thorne were definitely beard buddies after the war though.

THORNE AND WOLF ARE BROTHERS OK. wolf is like the older male figure that thorne looked up to, and thorne is wolf’s chance at another younger brother. their contrast between abused lunar soldier and rich, sheltered american really seals the deal for a bomb dynamic. and wolf would totally redefine the idea of masculinity for thorne, really make him get rid of all that toxic shit. he also calls thorne carswell to piss them off. no this is not a carswolf post but could be.

scarlet was either bra-less or only wearing a bra on the rampion. not in a sexual way but in a farm girl way.

129 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

177 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

it would be so cool if the tlc adaptation kept the characters’ accents!! chinese for cinder, iko, and kai, french for scarlet, american for thorne, maybe create something new for lunars? let the voice actors have fun!

197 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

208 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

oh, marissa ;)

273 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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midnightcowboy1969 · 2 years

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this is so late but i don't know anybody else who's watched my two dads & it's been a comfort show of mine for the last two months

im awful at making up headcanons but

- joey constantly uses michael as an armrest (not much of a hc tbh)

- there's been a time where joey accidentally shaved his beard & then had to shave it all off which michael clowned him for but nicole thought it looked okay

Never too late to talk about My Two Dads! (Even though it's been some time since I watched the show, so my mind is a bit foggy)

Those are good! Joey does use Michael as an armrest (he's done it at least one time on the show... right or am I misremembering?) and I don't think Michael is really bothered by it. I imagine Joey has been doing it since they were kids. :)

Also! I can see that. Joey would probably be a bit embarrassed being clean-shaven too because he feels that it makes him kind of babyfaced. Michael probably makes it worse by calling him Babyface. However, Joey would point out that Michael cannot grow facial hair (which is my headcanon, even though I know Reiser has had a beard at one point), and Michael would respond with something about not being a caveman. His job which earns them money requires that he looks like a modern human being who knows how electronics and numbers work.

I can imagine Nicole coming downstairs in the morning and she either does not notice the beard missing or she stops in the middle of the staircase and her facial expression says everything. :0 :| "Oh" :/

Joey: I don't look that bad

Nicole: you look nice, dad

Michael: 🤭

Also, I feel like Michael would also start claiming that Joey no longer is the yknow God of Love dfgh but has been demoted in this state. But, Michael is proven wrong because women love Joey no matter what. Also what he loses in facial hair for a short while, he makes up in chesthair 😳.

Oh, the judge would have a priceless reaction. A smirk ... and she'd say something funny, but alas, head empty atm.

If you think of anything else, send them coming. :)

#ask #anon #m2ds

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softhairedhotch · 2 years

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Hi Casper! I see you’re looking for headcannon requests and although I can’t promise any of my ideas will be that great I do have some ideas. Could you potentially write hc’s for Dad Bod!Hotch being pouty because his hair has gotten too long and he doesn’t want to cut it because he loves to have it played with but he has to cut it for work? Just the idea of Hotch with a dad bod and floppy soft hair has me in my feels lmao.

oh my god i absolutely adore this, this is the cutest thing ever <33

aaron? with a dad-bod? and a stubble/beard? and floppy hair? i will violently sob

LOOK AT HIM!!!

i wrote a few hcs and then a drabble about it too <3

(gender neutral reader)

when he has time off work, he lets his hair grow out

even though it grows quite quickly, he's never off work for enough time for it to get super long, so when you find out he has a few weeks off work you get all excited about how good he'd look when he grows it out

he finds that the cutest thing ever and just knows it'll be the worst when he has to cut it all off again

once it starts to get floppier you can't keep your hands off it, always wanting to run them through his soft hair and hear him let out his soft content sighs

he gets obsessed with it, often resting his head in your lap or on your chest/stomach just so you can easily play with his hair, scratch at his scalp, and run your fingers over his beard

he's often shirtless too, feeling comfortable enough around you and not feeling the need to wear one, so you get to see his dad-bod and the beautiful thick hair covering his chest and tummy, which you also run your hands through and softly scratch at

he loves the way you're so gentle with it, the way he can feel the love emanating from you at each touch

it brings him a lot of comfort and makes him happy

so when he has to cut it again for work he gets all pouty, not wanting to get rid of it, but knowing he has to, and knowing that you can still play with his hair even when it's shorter

when it's cut, his face clean-shaven too, you tell him that you still think he's the most beautiful man ever as you scratch at his scalp and run your hands through the short strands

he still grows it out whenever he can, sometimes leaving it slightly longer but still professional and managable, but it's rare for it to get back to that length

the little drabble <3

"Is everything alright?"

Aaron looks up at you from his phone, "Yeah. I just got a message from Garcia, they want me back working on Monday."

You walk over to where he sits at his desk, standing besides him. Your hand immediately finds its way into his hair, playing with the soft long strands. It's the longest it's been since, well, forever, dark hair curling around his ears and flopping over his forehead, stopping just above his eyebrows, making him look less intimidating and much more softer.

"Does this mean we'll have to say goodbye to this?" You ask, ruffling his hair, making it even messier.

He lets out a sigh, pouting slightly as he glances up at you before leaning his cheek against your stomach, closing his eyes in content as you gently scratch at his scalp. "It does."

You trail a hand down to his jaw, cupping his face and running the pad of your thumb over his stubbled cheek. "Even this?"

He nods with a little hum, turning his head and pushing his face into your stomach, arms coming up to wrap around you and pull you closer.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," you mutter, running your hands through his hair and feeling his tense frame slowly relax. "I know how much you like the look."

He pulls away slightly, looking up at you with a soft smile. "I like it because you like the look, and because you play with my hair a lot."

"It's a very good look, it makes you look very distinguished."

"Hm."

"Add the dad-bod to that, it's your best look, honestly. It's perfect."

"Dad-bod?"

You tilt his face up so he looks at you, his eyebrow slightly raised and a smirk flickering across his lips. "Yeah, you're rocking a super hot dad-bod right now."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm, it makes you all cuddly and cute. Plus, you look extra hot in tighter clothes, y'know, like your work suits, or those tight shirts you sometimes wear."

He chuckles against you, wrapping his arms tighter around you before burying his face against your stomach once more. Slightly muffled, he let's out the sincerest, and the most softest, "I love you."

You scratch the back of his head softly, smiling when he hums. "I love you too."

i hope you enjoyed <33

also please i was looking for something in my dm's with jase (@scorpio-hotch my beloved) and i just,,

so true <3

#thank you for the request <3 #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner drabble #cas writes #dad bod hotch

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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years

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I Am Alive (chapter 1/?)

Chapter 1: A Nurse for Androids

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Synopsis: You were a biomechanical engineer, a fancy way of saying that you repaired androids. After the revolution, you decided to move back to Detroit to offer aid as, essentially, a nurse. After stopping by to visit an old friend, you began to grow attached to his android partner.

Chapters • 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

"Lieutenant, this place is-"

Connor stopped himself when he caught the look Hank was giving him. It was something akin to a scowl, though his lip was a bit more crooked and his eyes were more annoyed than angry.

"Hank," Connor corrected himself. "This place is-"

"Can it," the detective groaned, knowing full well he was about to get criticized for living in a dump.

Connor caught himself smiling a little, despite the fact he had just been told to shut up. There was something oddly satisfying about getting on Hank's nerves, especially when it was over harmless things. 'Banter' was what it was called.

Hank had been sober since the revolution, and that was nearing six months ago. It was a little difficult for Connor to get a grasp on how that made him feel. 'Proud' seemed to be the word that came up the most in his searches. He was proud of his partner and wanted to congratulate him.

The older detective insisted 'I don't need nuttin' and 'don't buy me no damn gifts' when Connor suggested they celebrate. After some insistence, Hank reluctantly agreed to let Connor help him clean his house. It seemed to go hand in hand with Hank's new resolve: get your shit together, tidy up the place, buy some new fucking furniture.

"Isn't the point of this whole deviant thing to not do stuff for humans?" Hank asked, mopping the kitchen while Connor loaded up 'Hank's crap' in a box to be donated.

"I'm doing this because I want to," Connor insisted. He paused and turned to Hank. "We could test it? Tell me to do something."

Hank leaned against the broom, eyeing the android suspiciously. "Fine. Trim Sumo's nails."

Connor did not even break eye contact. "No."

Hank let out a howling laugh. "Smartass."

The android smiled and resumed what he had been doing. It all made sense, why humans got such a rise in telling people to fuck off, why Hank had no issue telling Connor to 'mind his own damn business' when he scolded him for his choice in food. Free will felt good. Connor had his own apartment, collected a paycheck. He went to work every day because he wanted to.

The doorbell rang and Connor eyed Hank first.

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Knock yourself out. Probably just some damn door to door salesman."

Connor trotted over to the front door. When he answered , he was greeted by a pretty woman, a few inches shorter than him, with a bright smile and beaming eyes. She had a curious demeanor: like she had knocked on this door dozens of times. Well, you had, it had just been a long time.

Before he could utter a word-

"Holy shit," you exclaimed through a wild grin. You had expected Hank to answer the door. But, a familiar face did instead. His hair was neatly trimmed with just a few devious strands fallen over his forehead, kind brown eyes and a squared jaw. Most guys grew out of their freckles. You were pleased to see that he did not.

His eyes flickered with confusion at the sight of you. It was to be expected, so you didn't overthink it.

Excitement overwhelmed you and you reached forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a friendly embrace. He was frozen stiff in the door way, one hand still on the handle while the other hung limp at his side.

"God you got tall," you murmured happily into the space above his shoulder. You pulled back and looked into his confused eyes.

"Cole, don't tell me you forgot your best friend?" you teased. His head tilted slightly and his brow softened.

In the corner of your eye, you could see Hank approaching from the kitchen. When you saw the look on his face, your excitement settled down. He did not look like the police officer you knew growing up. His once clean shaven face was covered in a messy beard. His once neatly trimmed hair was long and shaggy. He had greyed a tremendous amount, likely from stress.

Yet, his kind eyes were the same as you remembered.

"Officer Anderson," you addressed him with a smile.

Hank didn't even have to ponder over who you might be. You were all grown up, sure, but like hell he'd ever forget the kid his kid spent most of his time with. He uttered your name with a sort of fondness that brought you right back to your childhood. However, there was something equally depressing in the way he said it.

"I am very sorry; but, I am not Cole."

Your eyes returned to the young man in front of you, the one you had just embraced. He offered his hand to you. You gawked up at him for a moment, processing what he had just said. It was then that you finally saw it, the solid blue LED on his temple.

Embarrassment flushed your face; so, you took his hand to try to drown it out. "My name is Connor and I am a detective with the Detroit Police Department," he introduced himself proudly.

"I - I'm sorry. That was very rude of me," you apologized, voice so much smaller than it was a few seconds ago. Connor didn't seem bothered at all by what had just occurred.

"Good to see ya', kid," Hank grunted. You nodded at him and forced a smile. Hank did not.

The older detective made a gesture, beckoning you inside. "Why don'tja come in..."

The android, Connor, stepped out of the way and you followed Hank into his living room. It had not changed one bit since the last time you were here: the same shaggy carpets and wrinkly old couch and faded recliner.

He had not said it yet; but, as you took a seat and began to process everything, you knew what was coming. Hank took a seat in his recliner and leaned forward, elbows on his lap. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and blood rush to your ears.

"Cole died, not long after you moved away," Hank explained. "This hunk'a'plastic is my partner." He motioned at Connor with a wave of his arm. "Sorry," he added on gruffly.

He had died... that long ago? And you had no idea... You had grown up, graduated college, lived through a quarter of your life already and Cole was... was gone, had been gone, long before he could experience much of anything.

"Hank - shit - I'm sorry. I came barging in here and-..." Hank waved you down, hoping to calm the storm that was beginning to brew. You continued, however, trying to settle the unease in your voice. "Me being here - it probably brought back painful memories. I should leave."

"Brought back memories, ya. Not painful ones," he replied, tone low, but sincere. "Less you count the time he fell outta the tree and broke his arm. You blamed yourself. So, I had two crying kids. Fucking hell."

His grumpy, yet playful tone, brought a smile to your face, and you choked out a laugh. "It was my fault," you giggled out.

"Yeah, well. That's a'right. He wore that cast like a medal," Hank replied with a soft smile, eyes looking off into nothing for a moment.

"I just wanted to say hi - check in on you guys," you explained, sniffling. You wiped some tears away before standing up. "I'm a mechanic - er, nurse - for androids. Moved back here to help, after the revolution - well, y'know. It's gonna be awhile before we can figure out a healthcare plan for androids."

"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate," Hank replied.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're still a cop. I imagine you'll be hearing from me a lot - abuse cases, y'know?"

"I'm glad you made something of yourself," the older detective added on, fatherly tone catching you off guard. It forced a sincere smile to your face.

"I better get outta here," you breathed. "Oh! Uhm - here - in case you ever need to get ahold of me." You pulled a card out of your pocket and offered it to Hank before offering another one to the android. You avoided his gaze in the process, but he took the card eagerly.

"I'm mainly gonna be stationed at Thirium Clinic. They just opened a couple weeks ago. Lots of... well, battle wounds and-..." You trailed off when Hank nodding in understanding. Tensions were still running high, violent protests were inevitably going to continue for a very long time.

Hank yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tucked the card away. In the corner of your eye, you could see Connor do the same with the card you handed him. "Thanks, kid. My cell never changed if you still have it."

"Good to know. Thanks, Hank."

"If we meet again, I hope it is under good circumstances," the android - Connor - stated. Your eyes landed on him, a natural response from trained politeness.

You tried not to be overwhelmed by the site of him. He looked like Cole - like Cole had grown up and matured into a handsome young man. His soft brown eyes and freckles clashed deliciously with his sharp jawline. His designers had even put texture in his skin around his mouth and along his jaw and chin, suggesting he shaved every morning. Most androids had flawless skin; but, Connor had visible pores.

"I hope so, too," you replied, forcing your eyes away from his face.

Did Hank know what Connor looked like? He said they were partners. Did Hank choose Connor? Was he made for Hank? Did Connor know what he looked like? You had lots of questions. But, none of them were even mildly appropriate.

"Hank, thank you for letting me bug you for a bit. It was nice."

He smiled a crooked smile. "Sure thing, kid. Now, get off my lawn."

You returned his smile and saw yourself out.

As soon as the door closed, Connor's mouth was open.

"Don't you apologize or any other dumb shit," Hank scolded him.

Connor's mouth made a quiet sound when he smacked it closed.

"Back to work," Hank groaned.

...

Luck had it that you saw Hank and his android companion less than a week later. It first came in the form of a text from the older detective.

'connor fucked up his hand you working?' was what it read. You replied with a simple 'yes' and two of Detroit's finest were walking through the sliding door to the Thirium Clinic.

When you approached them, Connor had a towel wrapped loosely around his hand, the cotton stained blue from all the thirium that had leaked out of him.

"Hope you didn't expect something fancy," you said shyly as you ushered the boys over to a booth. The place was clearly an abandoned grocery store turned medical office. They had not yet put up any real walls, just portable ones to give the illusion of privacy. Simply put, it was a shit show

Connor sat down and propped his arm on the chair's operating arm. You took a seat next to him, flipped on the hovering light, and carefully removed the towel.

"Really? Have you seen my house?" Hank barked.

You chuckled at that; but, the laughter died off when you exposed Connor's injuries. The sheeting - skin, if you will - was completely torn off Conner's right hand: his palm, the pads of his fingers, even a few inches down his wrist. The wiring was exposed, and you could already spot several that needed to be replaced. His hand felt stiff as concrete, further proving the damage you had feared.

"Shit," you cursed, spinning away from him in your chair to a nearby filing cabinet. You fished out some wires, and continued fishing until you found the right ones for his model.

Connor had remained quite still, you realized, when you came back around. You looked over his arm again, mentally preparing yourself for the path ahead.

"Aside from the obvious missing tissue and thirium loss, it's like nerve damage," you explained over your shoulder to Hank.

"Damn it, Connor," he grunted.

"Sorry, lieutenant," the android replied, intentionally robotic, but with the slightest smirk on the corner of his lip.

You had to choke down a laugh. "I'm glad it hasn't been hurting you, Connor. But, this might," you warned him as you set down the wires.

"I understand," he replied firmly.

He twitched a little when you plucked the first wire. For the rest, he managed to stay still. With how close you were, you could occasionally hear him let out a quiet, sharp hiss, so quiet that Hank was unlikely to hear it. You ended up replacing almost every wire that ran from his digits, through his palm, and down his wrist to the first joint bracket. Listening to him wince in pain never got any easier.

"Finally. Done with the wires," you breathed once the last one was secured. You leaned back and let Connor flex his fingers and twist his hand. He began to rotate his wrist around when you decided to stop him, gently cupping the back of his hand.

You did this all the time; but, you were faintly aware of heat blossoming on your cheeks as you held Connor’s hand. You silently scolded yourself, feeling a little too old to have a silly crush.

"Gotta patch you up, then a thirium transplant," you breathed.

Before it would adhered to an android and take on a skin tone, their flesh was pale, metallic, shiny and sparkly. It was also something between plastic and silicone, and had to be melted.

Hands were detailed, with corners and wrinkles, and much harder to get right than patching a wound on a thigh, which meant it would take a little longer. You had a handheld device that made it easier. It looked almost like a tattoo gun, and allowed you to carefully adhere it over the gaping wounds on his hand.

Normally, you had to ask your patients to be still. Connor seemed to be doing a great job of handling that without needing to be told. As you finished, you watched in awe as the flesh took on the peachy, light color of his factory default skin tone.

With a sigh, you set your tools down and maneuvered over to a nearby storage container holding bags of thirium. You wished one out and handed it to the detective. His levels weren’t low enough to require manual insertion. He could do it a more conventional way.

It was almost funny that androids were designed this way, that their only existing digestive track was to take in more blood. Keeping their thirium levels in the proper range was the closest equivalent they had to the need for nutrients.

Connor smiled gratefully as he took the bag from your hand. “That should be good,” you stated, trying not to feel so bashful beneath his gaze. “Let me know if anything feels wrong in your han-”

It was an unexpected door slam that shattered the moment. Some gasps sounded from the around room, You stood up and looked towards the entrance to see a severely damaged android limping in, a gun in his left hand and his right cradling a wound. He was wearing scraggily clothes that looked unfitting with his prim and proper haircut.

"I want an android doctor!" he demanded, the gun tight in his hand but pointed to the floor. His posture suggested he was scared to use it. However, that did not stop Connor from drawing his own gun.

"Wait," you hissed at him, pushing his arm down.

Connor uttered your name in a scolding tone as you stepped away from the chair and approached the injured android.

You took slow steps towards him, palms exposed in a display of yielding.

"S-stop!" he stuttered, shouting at you. Yet, he didn't point the gun at you.

"Hi. What is your name?" you asked him, not bothering to try and hide your nervousness. Everyone was staring at him nervously, patients near the door scrambling to get away from him.

He hesitated, looking at you with fear in his eyes. "T-Thomas..."

"Hi, Thomas," you replied, trying your best to steady your voice. "I'm sorry but all the nurses here are human. We came here from all over the country to help androids. You don't need the gun."

"No!" he cried out. "I don't want any humans touching me!"

Thomas was not just handsome, he was gorgeous. He had the type of pretty face people dreamt about and bright blue eyes. It didn't take a genius to determine what he was made for.

"Thomas, no one here is going to do anything that you don't want," you spoke to him, firmly. That was easy to say without fear, because it was the truth. "I promise."

You stepped closer, one foot at a time, and kept your eyes on his. You offered your hand and watched the fear slowly melt away behind his eyes.

"H-humans lie," he uttered, choked up, tears threatening to fall.

"I know. I'm sorry, Thomas," you replied quietly. For a moment, you had forgotten that everyone was still staring. "You're free now. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Thomas, I want to help you. But, before I can, I need you to put the gun down."

"I don't wanna go back," he whimpered. He didn't point the gun at you, but he held it as if to declare that he would use it to make sure that wouldn't happen.

"Are they making you work, Thomas? Your owners?" you asked, watching his face contort in agony. His LED was hidden behind his hair; but, when he turned his head, you could see it blaring red.

"They don't own you anymore," you said, firmly, anger shining through. "Please let me help you."

You stepped a little closer and, this time, he lifted the gun enough that it pointed at you. You almost could see down the barrel.

"It's okay to be afraid. I am, t-too, Thomas," you continued, lifting your hands a little higher. He was sobbing, now, fat tears falling down his cheeks, tinted blue from the stress. His hand, gripping the gun, was shaking.

"Y-you're going into shock from lack of thirium. Please, Thomas, please put the gun down and let me save you!"

His grip had weakened; before you could react, a hand came out of the corner of your field of view and grabbed the gun, effortlessly yanking it from Thomas' grasp. The android collapsed onto his knees in a fit of sobbing, clothing soaked in blue that oozed onto the floor.

Connor stood over the android, Thomas' gun now firmly in his grasp. When did he-? That fast... or had you just not seen him sneaking up behind you?

You brushed past Connor and joined Thomas on the ground. You offered your hand again and he stared at it for a moment. He gasped, once, then twice, before finally taking your hand. Another nurse was at your side in seconds and helped Thomas to his feet. The android was babbling on static, on the verge of powering down.

Connor watched you stagger away with the android, his thirium seeping all over you and staining your scrubs. You were still speaking to him in that gentle voice, ushering him to calm down. All the surrounding patrons had relaxed and continued on as they were. Connor was still holding the gun in his hand. It was covered in buildup, likely uncleaned for years; but, it felt heavy, definitely loaded with a full magazine.

He was so hyper-focused on you that he did not even notice Hank approaching. "You alright, Connor?" Hank asked, knocking the android's arm with his own.

"She's amazing," he replied quietly.

Hank laughed at his declaration. "Look at you getting all doe-eyed." Hank clapped a hand over Connor's shoulder and dragged him towards the door. "Come on, Tiger. With your track record, I'm sure you'll be back in here in no time."

...

Admiration, Connor realized, is what he felt for you. You were smart, independent, strong. He was impressed with the way you handled an agitated android. He was even more impressed by how much you cared about them. Or, maybe flattered was a better word? He didn't quite know. He just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Earth to android," Gavin bellowed, snapping his fingers in the android's face.

Connor looked up at him with an unbothered expression. He was seated at his desk and Gavin, apparently, had been leaning over him, trying to get his attention.

"Watching porn in your head or something, tin can?" he suggested with a sneer.

"I was going over the case files, which happened to be far more important than your whining," Connor replied coolly.

Gavin slammed his hands on the android's desk. "There's still a score to settle. Test me, motherfucker," he growled.

"Sure. Name the game," the android replied with a small smirk.

"Quite the pair on ya' for someone with no balls," Gavin said through clenched teeth.

Connor glared at him slightly, a retort bubbling up in his throat. He did, actually. Without the function of human genitalia, but passable for a real pair, so to speak.

"Maybe if you called him by his name, he would answer," another detective suggested, delivering a harsh slap to Gavin's back as he passed by.

Gavin swung around and hollered at the passerby. "Yeah, when I'm fucking dead!"

Connor rolled his eyes and returned to the computer screen in his mind. He was looking at case files, actually. He just wasn't... thinking about them.

"Another human killed by an android. You'd know all about that. So, enjoy," Gavin declared proudly, dropping a file on Connor's desk. He could care less if Gavin spent the rest of his life hating his wires. But, another detective had... defended him? How... odd. But, not unwelcomed.

Connor opened the case file and took a breath that he didn't need.

...

Coincidences... Perhaps, a glitch in the matrix? Or just pure luck.

The very morning after patching up Connor, you were in line to get coffee with none other than Hank right in front of you.

"You stalking me?" he teased, hands shoved into his coat pockets and breath visible in front of his face. Most of the snow had thawed, but it was still too damn cold outside.

"Probably," you replied dryly. "This place is the only good place in town."

"Great minds think alike," Hank agreed.

It was your turn to order everyone coffees, so you had several on the way. You and Hank waited together, and even after he got his single mug, he still waited alongside you.

"Whatever it is you wanna ask, just ask, kid," he grumbled.

"Just surprised you got an android partner," you uttered, looking away from him nervously.

"I didn't like him at first. He grew on me, and he's a damn good detective," Hank answered, pausing to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't be embarrassed 'bout confusing him with Cole. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks."

You looked over to Hank, who looked oddly peaceful despite what he was saying.

"Those Cyberlife bastards knew he was gonna be partnered with me. I doubt it was an accident."

Your brow shot up at his implication. "Connor was made to be a detective android, then?"

Hank nodded into his drink. "Yep."

"Does he like being a detective?"

"I asked him that once, when he wanted to come back after all the... protests. He said his programming was gone, no more 'lines of code' telling him what to do... but he still wanted to solve crimes. All I can do is hope it's what he wants, and not choosing the path of least resistance."

"Me too," you whispered, far too fondly for your own good. Hank shot you a look; but, luckily, the barista came to your rescue and called out your name.

"Bye, Hank!" you hollered, rushing to the counter to grab your drinks and see yourself out. It wasn't entirely for selfish reasons. The clinic was waiting, after all.

#connor x reader #deviant connor #dbh fanfic #rk800 x reader #deviant connor x reader #connor smut #rk800 smut

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if-music-be-the-food-of-love · 3 years

Text

Loving the Alien

Just a little oneshot I wrote because Herbots grew a beard this summer, and thus Robbe did too. Rated T. Cross posted on Ao3 if you prefer reading it there. -> Link

***

“I honestly don’t know what to think about this,” Sander said, leaning on the door jamb, his eyes focused on Robbe’s face.

“Then don’t. Easy,” Robbe replied with a shrug and a wink. He took a green bottle from the cabinet above the sink and set it on the counter before pulling a razor and a pair of scissors out of a drawer. He set them next to the bottle and then turned to face Sander, arms crossed, his hip leaning against the counter. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Sander dropped his gaze, smiling secretly at the floor, and sighed dramatically. “I just can’t decide. That’s the problem.”

“Sander, you can’t decide what?” Robbe asked, rolling his eyes, but Sander could tell he was only partially exasperated. His dark chocolate eyes shone with curiosity, and he now gazed at Sander expectantly.

Lips twitching, he took two steps forward and cupped Robbe’s furry, though somehow still soft, cheeks in his hands. He pressed the barest whisper of a kiss to his lips, and then resting his forehead against Robbe’s, he murmured, “I can’t decide whether you’re hotter with this beard or clean shaven. It’s a real problem.”

Robbe snorted, and his whole body convulsed forward. His forehead clipped Sander’s jaw, and he stepped back, a little giggle escaping from his lips. “Really, San? That’s your problem?”

Sander pushed back the curtain of russet waves that had fallen into Robbe’s face, and shrugged, saying mock seriously, “It’s a legitimate dilemma, Robin. Put yourself in my shoes. Your boyfriend is hot as hell, and then he goes and grows a beard over vacation. Suddenly he’s even hotter--something you didn’t think was possible by the way--and you don’t know what to do with yourself.” He gave Robbe a pointed look. “I seriously had to control myself in public, and it was not easy.”

Robbe rolled his eyes again and opened his mouth to interrupt, but Sander placed a finger across his lips.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “I just look at you, and you’re so fucking sexy that I can’t breathe. I literally have to stop and remind myself to inhale. I thought that was some stupid cliche in books, but no. Of course it’s real, and of course it would happen to me. Because of you. And then you grew this fucking beard...and I don’t think I’ve been able to think straight since.”

Robbe removed Sander’s hand and kissed his knuckles before holding it between his own. “I don’t think you were exactly thinking straight before,” he teased. “That would kind of defeat the purpose.”

Sander couldn’t help himself. A barking laugh burst out of his mouth, and he shook his head. “Well, if you’re going to go there. I haven’t had a straight thought since we met.”

“Good,” Robbe said, pecking his lips lightly. “You may continue flattering me.”

“No, I’m done. Your head is big enough.” Sander crossed his arms and shrugged, leaning against the sink opposite Robbe. “If you’re not going to take my suffering seriously--”

“Suffering my ass!” Robbe scoffed, giving him a playful shove.

Sander grinned. “Yes, suffering. To know how hot you are both ways and to only be able to experience one at a time. Absolute torture. Seriously unfair. You should be ashamed of yourself, causing me all this pain.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“You-- The fuck, Sander, you--” Robbe smooshed his hand into Sander’s face, pushing him back as he rotated his wrist. Sander’s head rocked side to side, and he couldn’t help grinning, watching Robbe grasp for words.

“Gah! You--” Robbe continued to sputter, “Dork. You absolute dramatic, soppy dork. Oh my God, if people knew...I don’t think they’d believe me if I told them. No one. You want unfair? That’s unfair. You walk around looking all mysterious and aloof when you’re really just the cheesiest romantic ever.”

“Hmm.” Sander tilted his head to shake Robbe’s hand off, and then, placing his hands at Robbe’s waist, he tugged him in, capturing his mouth in a hard, fast kiss. His lips traveled to Robbe’s ear, leaving a few light kisses across his cheek, and he whispered huskily, “That all sounds very accurate, and you’re right no one would believe you.” He bit Robbe’s earlobe, briefly tonguing the small hoop earring. Robbe squealed and pushed him back, panting to catch his breath, eyes glaring.

Feeling very pleased with himself, Sander leaned back against the counter, saying coolly, “I still don’t know how I feel about you shaving it off. It’s grown on me. At first, I thought a chipmunk had moved onto your face, but now…”

“A chipmunk!” Robbe squawked indignantly. “Weren’t you just waxing poetic about how sexy you thought it was? And anyway," he quirked an eyebrow, "I can’t put myself in your shoes." Using his best talking to a baby voice, he explained with pursed lips, "This adorable, sweet, baby face,” he pinched Sander’s cheek and then followed it with a light smack, “can’t grow a beard. I think you’re just jealous.”

“Hey!” Sander cried, swatting his hand away. “I happen to enjoy not having to shave all the time.”

Robbe took his hand and pulled him closer, kissing his shoulder. “And I enjoyed not having to shave this summer. But now, I’m tired of it, so it has to go.”

Sander wrapped both arms around Robbe and put on his best pout, eyes sad and pleading, bottom lip sticking out.

Robbe laughed, slipping his hands into Sander’s back pockets. He gave Sander’s ass a squeeze and hugged him tighter. “You’re ridiculous.” He lifted up onto his toes and bit Sander’s thrust out lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it slide out between his teeth. He let go with a ‘pop,’ and then wiggling his hips suggestively against Sander’s, he added, “If I shave, then you know what will happen?” He swayed them side to side, slowly, teasingly, hips pressing harder into Sander. One hand slid up Sander’s back, disappearing into his hair. He pulled Sander’s head down and kissed him, lingeringly, lips soft, tongue searching, slow and deep.

Sander practically melted into his arms, his limbs turning to jello at the mere suggestion of Robbe’s hips, at the taste of his lips, his tongue. Robbe’s beard brushed softly against his cheeks and prickled the edges of his mouth. He was going to miss this, the delicious dichotomy of the longer soft hairs on his cheeks that tickled his skin and the shorter ones around his mouth that poked him and caught him off guard. He lifted his hands to Robbe’s cheeks and rubbed his palms up and down as they kissed, reveling in the scratch, the drag making his hands tingle. This was nice.

Robbe’s lips moved to his neck, and Sander took the opportunity to nuzzle his cheek and nose into the whiskers at Robbe’s jaw. They tickled and tingled, sending bolts of electricity to his toes. This was very nice.

Robbe’s lips traveled up his neck, the stubble leaving a burning trail that contrasted with his wet, open-mouthed kisses. So nice. This was so nice. It was such a different experience, so many different sensations. He was really going to miss this.

Robbe hugged him even closer, bending himself backwards, and then murmured into his jaw, “If I shave, I’ll have my 10:00 five o’clock shadow again, and I know how much you like that.”

It took Sander a moment to process his words, so overwhelmed by his hands and body and kisses, but when it registered, he stood tall abruptly, pulling out of Robbe’s embrace. “Done!” Sander loved the bare whisper of stubble on Robbe’s face, the dark shadow that heightened his features and made him look dead sexy. He could sacrifice the beard to have that back. Yes he could. He waved his arms vaguely at the razor, and said, “You have my permission.”

Robbe stood still, momentarily stunned, and then he burst into motion, laughing hysterically and falling forward to brace his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Fuck, Sander. You’re giving me whiplash.”

“Don’t blame me. You knew exactly what you were doing. Kissing me like that. Then exploiting my weakness for your permanent five o'clock shadow. You have no one else to blame,” he said, crossing his arms with a smug expression.

“You know,” Robbe said, coming forward and poking him in the chest, “I don’t need your permission. It’s my face.”

“No, you don’t,” he agreed, an adoring smile lifting his lips. “Can I say goodbye first?”

Robbe's expression softened immediately. He raised his eyebrows, clearly perplexed, and nodded, “Sure.”

Lifting his hands to Robbe’s cheeks, he gently stroked the longer hairs on his jaw with his fingers, curling them to trace his knuckles up and down and then opening them to feel it one last time on his palms. It felt both familiar and alien, both soft and rough. It had been a totally new sensation, kissing and touching Robbe this summer, a joy he hadn’t known he wanted, and soon it would be gone. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his cheek against Robbe’s and then tucked his chin to rub his forehead all over Robbe’s face, making him giggle again. He kissed both cheeks and left one more light peck on his lips. “Okay. I’m done. You may proceed.”

Robbe’s eyes remained closed for a moment longer, his chin lifted as if chasing Sander’s lips. Slowly blinking his eyes open, voice coarse, he said, “I almost don’t want to now.”

Sander’s eyes shot up from where they had lingered on his mouth, immediately zeroing in on Robbe’s teasing gaze. Then it was his turn to roll his eyes. He fluffed Robbe’s wild hair and said, “But you’re still going to.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. It’s starting to itch.” He sighed, scratching his chin for effect. Then his demeanor changed, and he looked up at Sander from underneath his lashes, eyes dark and suggestive. “But don’t worry. I can grow it back any time, and then you can feel me up all you want.” He paused, delightedly watching Sander squirm before him, as he knew he would (sometimes being so predictable and completely at the mercy of one’s boyfriend was incredibly unfair). Robbe blew him a quick kiss and then followed it by poking his chest again and adding, “Unlike you.”

“Fuck you!” He brushed at Robbe’s hand.

“Later, baby,” Robbe said with a wink, and then he rose up to give him one last kiss. He patted Sander’s cheek playfully and said, “I love your doofy, soft, baby face. It’s perfect. Now go!” He turned Sander around and gave his ass a light smack before shoving him out of the door.

“I’m not entirely sure that was a compliment,” Sander called back over his shoulder. He could just see Robbe grinning at him as he pulled his hair out of his face into a bun. Holy fuck, he was hot! The beard was one thing, but if Robbe ever wanted to cut his hair short, Sander was prepared to stage a full-on revolt. He would mutiny. He loved Robbe’s wild, wavy locks. No matter how he styled his hair, it always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and Sander adored the sleep rumpled look. He was particularly fond of it when it was actually in bed, scattered across a pillow, but the fact that he could see it all day long was a bonus. Yes, Robbe’s hair was a treasure, and he’d use every tool in his arsenal to protect it, including guilt and begging, if necessary.

The beard could go. He’d save his energy to fight the real battle if and when it happened.

Sander had only just settled on a playlist to listen to while he scrolled through his phone when Robbe called him back to the bathroom. That was quick!

He pocketed his phone, leaving the music on, and trekked across the room. “Done already?” he asked, walking straight in.

“Nope,” Robbe said, turning to face him with a broad grin and excited eyes. “What do you think?”

It took Sander a few moments to process what he saw. His first thought was that Robbe hadn’t even started because he still had whiskers, but then he noticed that Robbe’s cheeks were smooth and that his mouth now sported an oval-shaped goatee. “Wha--?”

Robbe snorted and rested his hand on the counter for balance. “Looks ridiculous, right?”

“Uhh...err...hmmm…” Sander struggled to respond coherently. He didn’t know how he felt about the goatee. It was definitely weird. It was Robbe’s face, his Robbe’s face, but he didn’t look right. Was it creepy or just new? He settled on, “Makes you look older.”

Robbe inspected his face in the mirror. “Maybe I do look older.” He winked at Sander's reflection and said, “We have established that you like older men, so I don’t think this is a problem.”

“Uhhh,” Sander grunted, brain misfiring. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Uh, you’re not...you’re not keeping it, right?” He met Robbe’s gaze in the mirror. “Right?”

Laughing again, he elbowed Sander lightly in the stomach and said, “Of course not! I just thought it would be fun to see what I looked like with a goatee.”

Sander exhaled, relief pouring out of him. He loved Robbe no matter what, but the goatee was too much too fast. The beard had grown on him gradually. The goatee was just...disturbing. “Good,” was all he said.

Robbe met his gaze in the mirror, a knowing look in his eyes. “You hate it.”

He hesitated, “It’s...different.”

Robbe turned around, leaning back on the counter. “You hate it,” he insisted.

Sander sighed, “I hate it.”

“Well, now we know. No goatee,” he said, pecking Sander’s lips and then shoving him back out the door. “On to part two.”

Rolling his eyes, Sander asked, “Should I even leave at this point?”

“Yes!” he said emphatically.

“Fine. See you in three seconds.” He waved over his shoulder and headed back to the couch, pulling out his phone on the way.

It was significantly more than three seconds later when Robbe called him back. He walked into the bathroom with one hand over his eyes, asking, “Should I even look?”

“Hell yes! Sa-an, this is hilarious.”

Sander peeked through his fingers and immediately dropped his hand in shock. “No. No. No. Nope. No way. Absolutely not. No.” He waved his hands like a referee and shook his head for emphasis.

Robbe had a mustache. A creepy, crawly caterpillar mustache, sitting above his lip. It wasn’t a full mustache, more like a swath of hairs sticking out every which way in the general shape of a mustache, but Sander didn’t think more shaping would improve the effect. It creeped him out on a visceral level.

“What?” Robbe asked, feigning ignorance. “Freddie Mercury had a mustache.”

Sander coughed and cringed. “Yeah, in the eighties, and I would say I’m a much bigger fan of his talent than anything else, especially his mustache. Much bigger. Ro-obe, get rid of that thing,” he whined.

“Wha-at?” Robbe whined back. “You don’t like it? Don’t you love me? What if I like it?”

“Don’t even pretend. I know you don’t. I love you, but it’s hideous Robbe. Absolutely not.”

Robbe cocked his head and then shrugged, smiling goofily. “You’re right. It’s awful. Now come over here and give me a kiss.”

He reached his hands towards Sander’s face, pursing his lips into an exaggerated pucker, and Sander took an automatic step back. “Uh, uh, no. Not while that’s on your face. No kisses until it’s gone.”

Robbe stuck out his lip in a pretend pout and crossed his arms. “I should keep it just to spite you.”

“I’d shave it off in your sleep,” Sander chuckled. “Okay, let’s compromise.” He kissed Robbe’s cheek. “Now get rid of that thing, and I promise to kiss you senseless.”

“Deal,” Robbe said, but then he curled his fingers in Sander’s shirt and yanked him forward, sneaking in a surprise kiss on the lips.

“Ble-yee-ack,” Sander sputtered, pretending to wipe the kiss off his mouth.

Robbe cackled with glee and practically jumped up and down like an excited schoolgirl, thoroughly enjoying Sander’s disgust and dramatics.

“Thought that was funny, hmm,” Sander huffed. Before Robbe could respond, he thrust out a hand, and pinched Robbe’s side right at his most ticklish spot. Completely caught off guard, Robbe nearly collapsed sideways. Sander caught him, but instead of setting him upright, he pinched and tickled Robbe’s other side with his other hand, causing him to lose his balance and fall against Sander in a fit of giggles.

“You win. You win. Stop. Stooooooop.”

Sander stilled his fingers and set Robbe back on his feet, brushing back the hairs that had fallen out of his bun. He kissed his forehead and then turned to leave. “I’ll see the less disturbing version of you in a minute.” He stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “Still love you though.” He winked and walked the few steps back to the couch, collapsing on it backwards, knees bent over the backrest.

He closed his eyes, listening to the combination of his music and Robbe puttering about in the bathroom. He smiled to himself, a feeling of warm contentment washing over him. He was so lucky, so ridiculously lucky. He loved teasing Robbe, and Robbe not only enjoyed it, he teased him right back, giving as good as he got. It felt so wonderful to completely trust another person, to completely trust his good intentions, to believe in his love, and he knew the feeling was mutual. He had the best boyfriend in the world. Facial hair or no, loving him was easy, as natural as breathing. He was so fucking lucky.

A finger poking his nose pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Robbe leaned over him, upside down at this angle, face smooth and shiny from aftershave. “Hey, sexy,” he whispered. Fuck, he was so hot.

“Hey,” Robbe repeated shyly.

Sander rolled over and stood up, immediately pulling Robbe into a hug and thrusting his face into his neck, breathing in the familiar smell of shaving cream and aftershave mixed with soap and skin.

He pulled back and looked Robbe over, eyes darting all over his face. “You look and smell delicious.” He ran a thumb over Robbe’s soft cheek and cupped his neck before kissing him gently on the lips.

“What was that?” Robbe asked indignantly, brown eyes glittering like a naughty imp. “You said you were going to kiss me senseless. That wasn’t even--”

He was cut off by Sander lifting him off of the ground in a bear hug. He was halfway to Robbe’s bedroom before Robbe caught on and wrapped his legs around his waist, kissing him all over his face.

Sander finally captured his lips in a sloppy kiss right before they tumbled into bed, where he proceeded to kiss Robbe senseless, among other things.

Yeah, he had the best boyfriend ever. He could live without the beard.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #my fic #as far as i'm concerned it happened this way #back on the Sander POV train #and I truly empathize with his dilemma #it's a real problem #not my best work but it was fun to write #I miss them so much #I wanna believe they’re living their best life teasing one another relentlessly

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Just Like Old Times” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: https://gifer.com/en/AjzT and AMC

Request from Anonymous: “ Here's an idea for Rick x Reader! Rick didn't expect to meet his high-school ultimate crush ever again, he didn't expect to see her in Alexandria after so many years, he didn't knew he'd even recognize her, but he did. She changed a lot but the shine in her eyes when she looked at him with a cheeky smile, spreading her arms, saying "Welcome to Alexandria" – it was definitely her. They do say first love dies last.”

Word Count: 3981

Warning: Swearing?

Song I Wrote To: “Back To You” by Selena Gomes

Note: I really liked writing this one. I am a sucker for the crew showing up at Alexandria and meeting someone they once knew. Thank you for the request!

-------

When the group arrived in Alexandria, led by Aaron and Eric, Rick was on edge immediately.

He didn’t trust anyone and he knew that the new people were going to be wary of any outsiders who stepped through their walls. Then, of course, Daryl had to shoot an animal and carry it around like a prize, and that only cemented the odd glances the group got as they walked through the gate.

Aaron was sure that Deanna, the leader, was going to welcome Rick and his people with open arms. Alexandria was very particular about who they invited into their walls and she trusted Aaron’s judgment more than anyone else’s.

Walking through the streets of the seemingly untouched community, everything felt wrong. After being on the road for so long, the group was tired, hungry, and had at least four layers of dirt on their skin. Judith squirmed in Rick’s arms as he adjusted her, trying to keep her shielded from the strangers that Aaron led them towards.

Aaron explained where they were going and a few things about the community itself. They were self-sustaining with the solar panels and even had running water. Rick couldn’t help but be impressed at how modern it seemed, but then again, Woodbury had seemed like a dream too.

Looking over at Daryl, Rick figured the archer was thinking something similar. While Grimes wasn’t ready to write off Alexandria completely, he wasn’t going to let his guard down until he was sure. They had lost too much already to lose something like this with its walls, water, and over all protection. Especially for Judith, Noah, and Carl.

It was then announced that Deanna wanted to speak with them individually in order to establish a connection and assign jobs. Rick had been hesitant at first, but after speaking to both Maggie and Michonne, he relented and followed Aaron into the house, handing off his daughter to his son.

As soon as the door to Deanna’s house closed, the gate slid open.

------

You felt exhilarated.

You usually did after a fight like the one you just had. There were some people that were built for the new world and you just fit in it perfectly. Blood was soaked into your clothes, but you couldn’t care less. You were alive and the Dead, were in pieces. All in a day’s work.

When you had told Aidan that you were going out that morning he had tried to stop you, as usual, but you had simply smiled at him and skipped from the safety of the Safe Zone. You loved Alexandria, it was home, but there were times when you just needed to get out and do something and so, you did.

Your good mood was soon challenged by the look on Aidan Monroe’s face as you walked towards him. Nicholas shut the gate behind you, muttering under his breath about how reckless you were, but you ignored him

“What’s that face for?” you asked, catching up to Aidan who picked off a piece of bone from your shoulder with a grimace.

“Aaron found new people,” Aidan said.

“Why so glum? He always brings in stragglers,” you said, knocking your boot against the curb of the street trying to dislodge any extra gore before tracking it in further.

“It’s not just a few people, (Y/N),” Aidan said. “It’s fourteen, plus a baby.” You froze in your steps and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Fourteen?”

“Yeah, and the leader seems like a real piece of work,” Aidan said. “Honestly, he kind of scares me.”

“Damn,” you said, trying to imagine what Aaron was thinking when approaching a group that size. You were even more curious as to how he managed to get them to say yes.

“I have to go help my dad with something, but be on your guard,” Aidan warned and you punched his chest lightly.

“Don’t worry about me, Monroe. I am very well versed in strangers,” you said with a wink as you pushed on ahead, desperate for a shower. As you headed towards your house, you could see your many neighbors all looking towards Deanna’s place and you just knew they were trying to get the dirt on the new people.

Curiosity got the best of you and instead of going straight home, you turned down the other street and began walking towards a group of scruffy travelers.

You spotted the baby immediately. The little thing was in the arms of a young boy, its small body wrapped in a soft but dirty blanket as the teenager rocked back and forth trying to soothe the poor thing. You couldn’t even imagine what would it be like to have a child in the new world, let alone one so small.

As you neared them, you finally got a better look at the hat that was sitting on the kid’s head. It was oddly familiar.

“You know,” you said, approaching him, “the deputies where I used to live used these same kind of hats.” The teenager looked at you and if he was surprised at your appearance it didn’t show on his face. You did, however, gain the attention of others in his group. You noticed on in particular, a burly man with a crossbow and a possum hanging from his fingers was watching you with close eyes. You ignored him.

“It’s a King County Sheriff hat,” the boy said, pushing the brim up slightly.

“No shit,” you said, your brows rising into your bloodied hairline. “That’s my neck of the woods. You’re from King?” he nodded. “Huh, yeah I used to live there. I guess the world is gettin’ smaller after all.” The kid gave you a small smile, but before he could say anything else, the door to your leader’s house opened and a man walked out, his cowboy boots scuffing across the chipped, stone steps. He was tall and just by looking at him you knew that Aidan was right. This man was scary.

However, there was something incredibly familiar about him.

After checking on the boy in the hat, his eyes then flickered to you and he froze. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, starting at your bloodied face and going to your gore-laden boots and back up. You were about to ask what the hell his problem was when he opened his mouth and said, “(Y/N)?”

The world around your froze as the Georgia accent reached your ears. You knew that voice or at least some part of you remembered, considering how your heart jumped as soon as he spoke.

Taking a step forward, you narrowed your eyes, trying to see something that was missing. It took you a moment, but then you were able to finally see it. Behind all the dirt, the dried blood, and the very horrendous beard, there was a man you never thought you would see again. Your high school sweetheart, the one who got away, Rick Grimes.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, taking another step. “Rick?” Grimes was hesitant at first, but then he was walking towards you, his people parting like the sea for their leader. He reached a hand out to you as if to brush away the blood, but then he took you by the arms and pulled you into his chest.

Your arms went up and tightened around him, holding on for dear life. “I thought you hated growing a beard,” you said into his chest and you could feel the chuckle that vibrated through him at your joke.

“Very funny,” he said, pressing his face into your hair. When you pulled back, you tried to wipe off the blood that you had transferred to his filthy clothes, but he didn’t seem to mind. Looking up into those cool blue eyes felt like for once, everything was going to be okay.

“You’re alive?” you asked, reaching out to touch him again, afraid he was a mirage or that you were actually dead and not as victorious as you first thought.

“I’m alive,” he confirmed. Blinking back the tears that settled in your eyes you laughed, trying to make sense of everything that was going on.

“Well, uh, then let me be the one to say, welcome to Alexandria.”

--------

Later that night, everyone wanted answers.

As the group settled into one of the houses that Deanna had provided, everyone looked at Rick expectantly. “I guess you have questions,” a freshly shaven Rick said as he leaned against the back of the couch.

“You know her,” Carl said.

“I did,” Rick said. “(Y/N) and I knew each other when we were around your age, Carl. We dated in high school. She was the last person I was with before Lori. I honestly never thought I would see her again.”

“What are the odds that she would be here of all places?” Tara asked as she leaned into Glenn’s side, trying to keep her eyes open. Nobody was willing to blindly sleep yet. Rick and Daryl were already making a plan to take the first watch shifts as well.

“Do you trust her?” Michonne asked Rick. He was quiet for a moment before sighing.

“I did once,” he admitted, “but I don’t know what she’s been doin’ this whole time?”

“She was covered in blood when she hugged you,” Noah said awkwardly.

“Deanna’s son said she was on a run,” Maggie explained.

“We could ask Aaron about her,” offered Carl.

“Maybe it would be best to hear it from her instead of others,” Rosita put in. “I think we all would feel a bit better knowing more about these people and if Rick has a history with one…”

“She’s got a point, man,” added Abraham.

Rick nodded, but when he went to say something else, there was a knock at the door. Still not used to the concept of knocking or even proper walls, Rick slowly approached the door and opened it hesitantly. When he saw that it was Deanna, he opened it fully.

“Rick, I--” Deanna began and then froze as she looked up at the former officer. “Wow.” Rick groaned as Deanna stared at his now beardless face. “I didn't know what was under there,” she joked and Rick rolled his eyes, already getting enough comments from his people. “Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling,” she said and then looked around the room. “Oh, my. Staying together. Smart.”

“No one said we couldn't,” Rick rebutted. Deanna smiled at him.

“You said you're a family,” Deanna recalled, “That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?” Michonne glanced at Rick with a knowing look that clearly said, “play nice”.

“Everybody said you gave them jobs,” said Rick.

“Part of this place,” Deanna said with a nod, “looks like the communists won after all.”

“You didn’t give me one,” Rick said.

“I have,” she said. “I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha.” Deanna then looked at Daryl who was sitting protectively near Judith. “And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will.” Daryl turned his eyes toward the window, ignoring the woman. “Well, I will let you get some rest and then tomorrow, maybe you can take a turn about the place. I hear you may already have a friend here,” she said with a knowing look.

Deanna nodded to the rest of the group and then turned to go. Just before Rick was about to close the door, he spotted you. You stood just outside the house, leaning casually against a light post, arms and ankles both crossed. Deanna smiled at you as she walked towards her house.

“I’ll be right outside,” Rick told Carl who was nearest to him and then stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.

“There’s the Rick I remember,” you said as he approached you.

“I don’t remember you being this bad with jokes,” Rick said.

“Who said I was joking?” you said with a smile. Rick stopped in front of you, noting the lack of blood and gore this time. “How are your people doing?” you asked.

“They’re on alert,” Rick explained.

“Makes sense,” you said. “I was the same way.”

“What happened to you, (Y/N)?”

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath, “after the first few outbreaks happened, I tried to find my parents. Never did, but I managed to get out of the county and tried to get to Atlanta. If you didn’t know, Atlanta is not somewhere anyone wants to be right now.”

“I know, we saw it,” he said.

“So, you know that I high tailed my ass out of there. I hooked up with a group shortly after and we traveled together for a while. Then, of course, as always, the world catches up with you. There were only about four fighters in the group, myself included. One night the building we were staying in collapsed. Its beams and walls were already weak so nobody was surprised when they started to crumble. The noise attracted the Dead and only two of us got out alive. I and a young woman named Natasha walked for days, but then she got sick and I had to…” you stopped, trying to shake the memory out of your mind.

“Aaron found me a day or so later and took me here. That was about three months ago. I’m a bit of an outsider, but Aidan, Deanna’s son, he’s nice. He’s a bit of a moron when it comes to what happens outside of the walls, but nice nonetheless. I definitely prefer speaking to him than his asshole brother, Spencer. Alexandria is a good place with good people but they do not understand how to survive. Aaron is as close as it gets when it comes to a good survivor here.”

“Then why stay?” Rick asked. “If you feel as if you are such an outsider?”

“Walls,” you said simply. “I was so tired of sleeping with one eye open. However, I’ve never forgotten what’s out there and neither should you.”

“I don’t plan to,” Rick promised. You smiled at that, seeing the resolve he had built up over the years.

“So, that’s your boy? The one in the hat? Lori’s boy?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, glancing back towards the house. “The little one is mine too, Lori’s as well.”

“And Lori?” you asked, noticing she wasn’t with the group. You had known Lori in school and had gotten along with her well enough. It didn’t surprise you all that much when Rick ended up with her after your break up. She was the stereotypical good girl and you knew she had always liked Rick.

“She died giving birth to Judith,” Rick explained. “It’s just me and them now.”

“I’m sorry, Rick,” you said and you meant it. “If you ever need me to tell Carl any embarrassing stories about his mom, I am volunteering right now.” Rick laughed at that.

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” he said and you smiled back. “What about you? Did you ever marry?”

“I did,” you said. “He was a doctor, a damn good one too. He was attacked in his ER when this whole thing exploded. Damn thing tore his throat out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rick swore, running a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry. Did you have kids or?”

“No, no, not yet,” you said. “We thought maybe one day, but Will and I decided to wait. I guess we both have shit to deal with, huh?”

“Seems that way,” Rick agreed.

“I should let you get some sleep,” you said, pushing off the post.

“Yeah, I should go check on Judith before Daryl puts her in a bubble wrap suit to keep her safe,” Rick joked.

“Sounds to me like you got a damn good bunch, Grimes. I’m glad you found a family in this.” Rick looked at you with sad eyes and you waved him off. “Don’t do that cowboy, I am okay with bein’ alone. Always liked solitude.”

“I remember,” Rick whispered. You sent him a wink as you turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I ain’t going anywhere,” you called back over your shoulder as you skipped towards home. Rick watched you go and couldn’t help but think just how small the universe was getting after all.

-----

The next day, while the others went exploring, Rick was visited by his new neighbor.

When the knock came at his door, he was hoping it would be you, but instead, there was a friendly blonde woman. Jessie introduced herself and offered to cut Rick’s hair in which he gratefully accepted. There was a small part of him that was hoping you would start to see him as someone you once loved, however, he also knew that you both were very different people now.

Jessie spoke candidly as she trimmed and snipped hair in Rick’s kitchen. He learned a lot about the community and was surprised to hear that Deanna had built such a functioning society in the new world.

Rick also wasn’t blind to how flirtatious the woman was. She was beautiful, he could see that much, but she was also married and she wasn’t you.

When Deanna invited everyone to her house for a party, Daryl and Sasha had walked from the room immediately.

However, after the promise of food and actual alcohol, everyone agreed to try, even with their reservations. As soon as Rick and the others entered the house, it was as if they were stepping back in time. Glenn and Abraham immediately went for the beer while Deanna pulled Rick to the side to introduce him to Reg, her husband.

After exchanging a conversation about fourteen lives and walls, Rick excused himself. He walked through the room, Judith balanced on his hip as he made the rounds. Jessie was there with her husband who didn’t exactly look friendly. Rick made sure to make a note about him.

Just as Jessie was about to make her way over, a hand slid across Rick’s shoulder. “Figured you may want this,” you said, offering him a glass of scotch.

“Are you having one?” he asked and with a snort, you picked up your own glass from the side table.

“Already on it,” you said, raising your glass to clink against his. He took a small pull of it as you downed half in one go.

“Still not a lightweight, I see,” Rick noted.

“I feel like I’m immune to it these days,” you said with a sigh. “You okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rick drawled. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Oh, don’t you pull that accent with me,” you warned as he thickened his Southern accent.

“You always liked it,” Rick recalled.

“I liked it too much,” you said, sitting into your hip. “Besides, I was hoping that cute, grungy one would be around. Where is Daryl this fine evening?”

“Ha. Ha,” Rick said with a roll of his eyes. You beamed up at him and then Judith hiccupped in his arms, pulling all of your attention. “You like that?” Rick asked his daughter, shifting her so you could see her more clearly. “Judith, this is (Y/N). She is someone your momma knew and someone I care a lot about.” Your brows quirked at that last line, but you kept your eyes on the child.

“You are just the sweetest thing,” you said capturing the hand she reached out with your index finger. “Lucky kid to have a daddy like this,” you whispered, but then she started to fuss and you backed away.

“It’s not you, trust me,” Rick said. “I know what she wants,” he said with a sigh as he raised a finger, asking you to wait before walking over to Maggie. Hearing Judith, Maggie immediately smiled and eagerly reached for the baby. As soon as Judith was settled in her arms, she was still again, happily content to be with her aunt.

When Rick rejoined you, he shrugged. “Maggie was the first one to hold Judith after she was born and she is usually the only one who can do that.”

“Next time I’m on a run, I’ll pick you up some parenting books. I bet I can find ‘How To Raise a Little Girl in the Apocalypse’.”

“I will happily accept that,” he said. Glancing around the room, you nodded your head towards the back porch. He gestured for you to go first, grabbing his scotch on the way. The two of you stood out in the cool air. You were grateful for the silence that the yard provided rather than the crowded house.

“Saw you with Jessie earlier,” you began. “You gotta be careful of Pete. That man is no good.”

“I had a feeling,” Rick sighed.

“Man hits her and I pray he doesn’t hit the boys, but I can’t be sure.”

“How is he still living here?”

“He’s the only doctor we got and as much as I would love to throw his ass to a herd or kill him myself, it’s not my call. It’s Deanna’s. Just keep your eye on him, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Rick,” you said.

“I almost wasn’t,” he said and at your confusion, he told you the story of how he was shot and ended up in a coma before everything had gone downhill.

“I can’t even imagine that,” you said. “Waking up in this world. You must have thought you were in a nightmare.”

“I didn’t know what to think. I just knew that I had to find Lori and Carl. We talked about how bad Atlanta was, but without me going into that city on that day, Glenn never would have found me. He brought me home to my family.”

“Damn, that is incredibly lucky,” you said, leaning against the railing of the porch.

“Not so much luck followed,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

“And yet, you still made it to the infamous safe zone,” you said brightly.

“Yeah, I did. I made it to you,” Rick said plainly and you gasped slightly, not expecting those words at all.

“Rick,” you began but he shook his head, taking your hands in his.

“I’ve never believed in fate,” he said.

“I remember,” you whispered.

“I can’t ignore this sign. I won’t. Not after everything that we have both been through. I mean, they do say that first love dies last,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“They do say that, don’t they?” you responded.

“You always did feel like comin’ home, (Y/N),” Rick admitted.

“Does this mean you’re gonna stay?” you asked, eager for his answer.

“Maybe, but with you, I have a lot of incentive now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling him closer to you. “Walls or not, I am not going to let you go after we just found each other again. Home is more than a place, you know?”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he drawled, causing you to blush. “Ah, just like old times.”

“Indeed, Cowboy, indeed,” you said as you pulled him in for a kiss. It was subtle and gentle, but you have never felt more alive. Rick kissed you back, his hand coming up to tighten on the back of your neck as he once did all those years ago. When he pulled back, he grinned at you.

“Well, wasn’t that quite the welcome wagon,” he joked and with a roll of your eyes, you pulled him back in. Behind you, the party was completely forgotten.

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @felicisimor

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x f reader #rick grimes x reader #twd imagines #aaron twd #twd imagine #the walking dead imagines #walker words #reader insert #The Walking Dead

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ghoulish-fiction · 2 years

Text

A little WIP from Mountain's Family (please for the love of God someone think of a better title for me I've got nothing).

Bryn thinks there is something wrong with Mountain, but Nonny is no help at figuring it out, so Bryn goes to find out for herself.

Cut for length. Cute family fluff and a bit of lore (for lack of a better word idk I'm big dumb today lol).

Read all previous installments of Mountain's Family here.

"Psst. Nonny. I gotta question I don't want Daddy to hear."

"What is it?"

"Is Daddy okay?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't he be?"

"...his face..."

"Now honey we talked about this. Lots of ghouls have more than two eyes. Not all, but a lot. You only have two because of me. I'm surprised you didn't end up with more. The only reason you don't notice that so many of them have more than two eyes is because they wear masks, and most of your aunts and uncles happen to only have two as well. Next time you see Cirrus ask her and I don't think she would mind taking her mask off. You'll see that she has more than two eyes."

"No... something else."

"What?"

"Here." She says pointing at her own chin, but Nonny misundstands the gesture and thinks Bryn is pointing to her mouth.

"His fangs? Sweet pea, you have fangs, too. I don't understand. There's nothing wrong with your Daddy."

Frustrated, Bryn just nodded and walked away. She went to confront her dad herself. She was going to figure out what was going on.

Bryn found her dad practicing the new songs from the latest album. Mountain spotted her watching him from around the doorframe.

"Are you ready to tell me why you've been staring at me like that for days? You're starting to make me worry." Mountain calls to her.

Bryn lets out a small "Eep!" She was surprised that she was caught. Slowly stepping into the room, Bryn takes her tail in her hand and brings it to her mouth. Mountain notices. He knows she is nervous so he sets down his drum sticks and sit on the floor to get down to her level as much as he could given his height. He opens his arms to her and she pads over to him to climb into his lap.

"Tell me what's bothering you, petal."

"Something is wrong with your face."

Mountain has to bite back a surprised laugh as he asks "What do you mean? I don't think there is anything- oh!"

Bryn's little hand grabs his chin. She rubs the short beard he has been growing while home. He has to be clean shaven for tour, which he typically continues to do in his off time out of habit, but he's been letting it grow recently. It is the first time in a few years that he let it grow. The last time he had a beard Bryn was just a baby. He understands now.

"Bryn, there is nothing wrong with my face. This is just a beard. Its just hair. Your uncle Aether has one, too."

"His face is always like that. Where did yours come from?"

Mountain couldn't help but laugh this time. Bryn pouted at being laughed at. Mountain hugged her close to his chest and apologized.

"I'm sorry, petal, I don't mean to laugh at you. I grew it. Just like you grow the hair on your head. Lots of humans and ghouls grow hair on their faces. Especially men. Its normal. Nothing is wrong."

"Will I grow beards?"

"If you want to."

"I don't!"

"Okay, then you won't."

"Good."

"Is that all that was bothering you? Do you feel better?"

"Yes. Thank you Daddy."

"Always, baby."

Mountain kisses Bryn and rubs his cheek against hers.

"Scratchy!" She wails.

Mountain laughes and releases his squirming child.

"I gotta go tell Nonny there's nothing wrong with your face." Bryn shouts over her shoulder as she runs back to the kitchen.

"Okay, baby." Mountain laughs.

#ghoulish fanfic #ghost oc: bryn #mountain #mountain's family #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #wip

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

I’m so sorry that I don’t remember who originally posted about Steve accidentally calling Billy, Daddy, and Billy - naturally - going feral for it.

But daydreaming about this helped me sleep so ~ enjoy! (If anyone knows the post I’m talking about, I’ll happily add a link to it in a reblog and the ao3 notes.)

Read on ao3 here.

Featuring reunion/aged up trope ~ (I didn’t really keep canon in mind for this, but if you want it to be post season 3, that’s fine.)

It’s a strange twilight zone, meeting someone again. Being complete strangers with a history.

Not the best history, either, so Steve just had to laugh to himself while he sat on Billy Hargrove’s couch. The guy looked up from the kitchen counter across the open floor plan. “What?”

And Steve might be internally combusting a bit-

A lot.

Because Billy’s hot. Like...Steve can actually appreciate it now. It’s not the first time he feels like a fool for being too slow. Billy was a looker in high school; easily one of the guys who completed puberty first and knew it. Made him an asshole for it. And people liked assholes.

Steve guessed he just didn’t do it right. Being the mean guy. But that was far behind them, now, and Billy’s late twenties were doing him favors.

Steve supposed if young, spry, Adonis Billy came with being a complete dick, then he could appreciatively leave him behind. Because Billy wasn’t a complete dick anymore. And the man strolling back across the room with a pair of whiskey sours was definitely, 100%, burning a hole through Steve’s jeans better than the show-off from high school ever did.

Steve reckoned Adonis never got laid nearly as much as Zeus or Poseidon anyway, which he only knew from Robin’s ramblings about her Greek theatre class. Steve earned a distinct wrinkling of her nose when he said, “Lettuce? Adonis is symbolized with lettuce? Yeah, no. Aphrodite, that cougar, fell for a twink while Daddy Poseidon was getting whoever he wanted with his beard and all.”

Robin had barked a laugh but chided, “Please don’t ever call Poseidon, “Daddy,” ever again. Oh my god.”

Joke’s on her, because now she referred to the gods and heroes by whatever name Steve gave them.

And the joke was on Steve. Because he was definitely the twink in this new situation he found himself in.

Billy had always been stacked. But the guy walking through the university gallery to make Steve’s heart stop beating in his chest was something else. He wasn’t even bigger, really. Something just...happened as soon as a person could see 30 closer than 20. Steve had first noticed it with Robin, because they spent the most time together. Obviously that crush had been snuffed out with her gentle coming-out to him years ago, but Steve still had eyes in his head. Robin aged really well. Steve had begun to wonder if he was aging nearly as gracefully.

Billy, that bastard, strolled right up to him with a freaking mustache of all things, invited them to lunch the next day - where he had switched to clean shaven - and now sat on his couch in his newly built apartment complex with a sweating, rattled Steve. He had neatly pulled him aside before the three of them parted the restaurant to invite Steve over for drinks that evening.

Steve was unprepared for the sculpted scruff on the man’s face now. He’d never seen a guy switch facial hair styles like he was changing shirts. Frankly, he didn’t know anybody who could just grow it that easily.

Steve gulped loudly around his whiskey sour.

It was Billy’s turn to laugh under his breath. “You okay? You never answered me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a little out of breath. “I’m just...reeling, here. I think the last conversation we had involved a fist fight.”

Billy laughed again and Steve’s eyes trailed over the shirt fitting perfectly around his built shoulders. Maybe Billy is bigger. In like a...domestic sort of way. Like he still had all his muscle but didn’t throw a fit over a bowl of pasta. Steve is still taller. Steve still had that, at least, but he sure felt like his second puberty hadn’t graced him yet.

Billy was talking. Pay attention, Steve.

Something about Robin. Steve replied, and hoped he was answering close to whatever Billy had said, “Robin teaches there and some of her students were in the exhibition. It’s an art nerd thing. Everybody’s involved, even if it’s not your subject.”

Steve couldn’t tell if the pause was Billy processing or if Steve had been completely off the mark. Deflect. Reroute! his brain told him, so he asked, “Did we ever ask how you knew about the gallery?”

“Max goes to school there.”

“Oh,” Steve chirped bluntly. “Small world.”

Billy hummed a sound low in his chest. Something vibrated inside Steve and he closed his eyes in a hard blink, grasping at flimsy straws for composure. Billy finished, “I was in the area. Definitely a pleasant surprise to see your familiar face.”

“My Lego head?” Steve gestured vaguely at himself. “I guess this block always did stand out.”

Billy huffed a surprised sound, like he hadn’t expected that, but he let it tumble into easy laughter. “You look good. I never saw you with short hair.”

His fingers pushed the arching swoop of Steve’s fringe behind his ear. The briefest touch across his temple finishing on his neck...

I’m going to have a heart attack.

“Thanks. That goes for the both of us.”

Just like he almost missed never snatching a chance with high school Billy, Steve only kinda missed never getting his hands on that mullet. Only to know how soft that hair actually was. Not like Billy needed it, of course. Truly absurd, how he rocked any hair situation on his head that wasn’t shaped like a Lego person’s.

Steve finished his whiskey in the next gulp.

He could feel Billy’s laser blue eyes notice this, and then he stood from the couch. “I’m getting us some waters.”

“Okay,” Steve chimed dumbly. Feeling dumb.

Jesus Christ, it’s Scoops all over again. You suck. You suck-

“Poseidon liked a twink too, you nimrod,” Robin had teased back. “His name was Anteros.”

“And he dies too, right?”

“Nope. He’s basically Poseidon’s husband and chauffeur.”

“Aw. Good for Daddy P.”

Billy returned. “Are you one of these people who likes seltzers?”

Steve blindly took the can while his thoughts slammed mutinously into, Daddy B. B is kinda cute. Shorter-

“Thanks-

Billy.

-daddy.”

Steve opened the can before it sank in what he’d just said. Carbonation gently kissed his skin as he held the can to his lips but didn’t drink. Some may or may not have landed in his lap before he lowered it to see Billy’s unreadable face.

“Oh my god.” Steve rushed to place the can on the coffee table and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Did you...?”

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, removing a hand as if to physically defend against the words in the air.

“Steve-”

His words came muffled from where he hid inside his hands. “Oh my god. I’m gonna throw up.”

He stood up - to go where, he didn’t really know. Probably best to just leave at this point. Way to choke. Way to absolutely choke, Harrington. You don’t even know if Billy’s bi and you just deep-dived into WEIRD-

“I’m really sorry,” he rushed as he stepped around the coffee table.

“Steve.” Billy gripped his arm and pulled right back onto the couch as if it were easy. Steve more than landed in his spot, he landed flush against Billy. His thigh felt Billy’s warmth, and his lips stayed parted to keep breathing when he realized how close their faces were.

Billy this close was something else, and Steve didn’t have the brain power to navigate it.

“Say it again.”

So it took him a long minute to absorb that. Was he seeing stars? So much for breathing.

“Huh?”

Steve’s lashes sagged heavily over his eyes when Billy leaned tantalizingly close. Either of them could stick their tongues out and taste the other’s lips.

Don’t, he commanded his mutinous subconscious.

“Say it again, Steve.”

He wondered which was louder: his thunderous heart or the racket in his brain trying to turn rusty gears. He whispered against Billy’s skin, “I didn’t mean to say it.”

A hand, gentle but there, found Steve’s nape. “I’m telling you to say it on purpose.”

Was he making fun of him? Steve couldn’t tell. He hadn’t spent more than a handful of hours with him. But his voice made that thing in Steve’s body vibrate and his brain had officially declared itself a lost cause.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Steve closed the gap - tiny as it was - and involuntarily moaned at the softness of Billy’s lips. The hand on his nape tightened and another came to hold the front of his throat; not pressing against his windpipe, but Billy’s fingertips held Steve’s jaw in place and his palm surely felt the drumming of Steve’s heart.

Steve’s tongue couldn’t help itself. He touched the plush skin of Billy’s upper lip, ever so lightly-

Billy groaned, wanton and hungry as he pushed entirely into Steve’s personal space. The latter gasped at the sound, and then he really did see stars as Billy’s tongue fucked against his own. He tasted sour and sweet and the citrus mixed with Billy’s natural taste in such a way that Steve tilted his head for more, pushed right back into Billy’s space.

Steve’s body rotated enough that his knee bumped into Billy’s. Then Billy was gripping that joint hard enough to bruise so that he could pull Steve all the way around to straddle him. Steve clumsily climbed onto his lap, grateful for the influx of air as Billy planted wet kisses and pressed his tongue into Steve’s pulse. He didn’t really know what the boundaries were anymore. This was explosive and sudden and Steve sat, unsure, higher up on Billy’s thighs-

“Ahh!” he burst when Billy gripped his hips and yanked his pelvis flush against him. Steve’s moan clipped short into a small ache of pain. The way his jeans tightened with the stretch of his thighs crimped into his already throbbing erection.

Billy opened his jeans. Steve’s voice escaped with his gasp when the colder backs of his fingers touched his belly as he dipped into Steve’s underwear. He stood up on his knees to give Billy the room to free his erection, and Steve couldn’t help the moan that exhaled out of him when he sat back down, feeling Billy’s soft shirt against his red cockhead.

Steve shivered as Billy’s hands slid up and around his body, mapping out Steve’s topography and shoving his shirt as high as Steve’s collarbones. Steve felt like a lewd wet dream: an exposed, panting mess on Billy’s lap. His heart ricocheted around his ribs with the sharp tickle of stubble, and he whimpered as it scraped over his nipple and chest.

“Your shirt,” he heaved, knowing he was dripping precum. “Billy-”

“Call me what you did before.” He reached into the back of Steve’s jeans and gripped a handful of his ass that had Steve lurching forward and bucking into the softness of that shirt and tummy, the warmth of Billy’s body. Steve whined when Billy held him down, unable to move.

“Say it. Whatever you want. Just say it for me.”

Steve bought a little time by kissing him, hard. Hard enough to make Billy lie back into the couch, his head tilted up to moan into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s lips nuzzled the side of his lips and began an exploratory trail across Billy’s cheek and jaw, down to his throat.

“I just...wanna feel all of this on me. I wanna feel your beard so much I’ll still feel it tomorrow... Daddy.”

Steve’s voice pitched to the ceiling when a hand gripped his hair. Billy’s other hand released his ass cheek to push encouragingly on Steve’s lumbar the same time he drew Steve’s earlobe into his mouth. Steve gripped the couch upholstery behind Billy’s shoulders as he bucked against him, rutting like a teenager. Billy’s own jaw fell for his moan to escape when Steve’s ass and backs of his thighs moved over his own cock trapped in his pants.

Steve tried to slow down a little, to rub against him without making the fabric chaff. “Daddy, what do want?”

If he didn’t feel Billy’s heartbeat before, he sure as hell did now. Steve felt it against his hands as he sought to know the contours of Billy’s shoulders and chest. He watched Billy’s swallow through the gorgeous neck that lay open to him as Billy gazed up at him. One of his hands traced the gently twitching artery on the side. Steve began to pepper slow, audible kisses against his face. When he landed on Billy’s lips, Billy kissed back, and when he wandered all the way up to Billy’s temple, Billy let him. Only his hands moved sluggishly between Steve’s thighs and his waist, seeking skin underneath his shirt.

Steve came back down to whisper against Billy’s lips, “Daddy?”

It was a blur of movement punctuated by Steve’s surprised yelp of glee as Billy threw him onto his back on the couch. Billy kissed the laughter out of his flushed, red throat, growling in satisfaction at how those bubbles of mirth sank into breathy moans.

“I’ve wanted you for years, pretty boy.”

Steve’s brain didn’t absorb that so much as his body did. Pinballs of emotion and sensation darted to and from his groin. He lifted his leg to rest across the back of the couch and to give Billy access to whatever he wanted.

Strong hands moved carefully - fondly - over Steve’s thighs. A stuttering breath left him when Billy clutched the backs of his legs. A sweet ache to have the muscle squeezed there.

“Don’t hold back on me now, baby,” Billy taunted, pressing his hands into the couch on either side of Steve and aligning his bulge with Steve’s hole and undercarriage still inside his jeans. “Let me hear you.”

Steve’s other leg wrapped around him and he lifted his pelvis to grind against Billy’s front. Billy’s bravado melted into an anguished, blissed-out frown as he shut his eyes against the sensation. When he opened them, Steve held his cock in hand, pumping himself in time with his pelvis rolling up to meet Billy.

It was sloppy and desperate and Steve didn’t think he ever did this even as a teenager. It had all been a small town rush to get hands or mouths on skin and get rid of the stigmatizing V-card. Except when Steve was in love, and allowed to take his time...

Steve didn’t know if he was in love now. But as another wave of ticklish warmth darted through him, Steve laughed a little.

“What?” Billy asked, not unlike the first time.

“I just...I just like this, that’s all,” Steve admitted. “You feel good. You smell good. Ahh! I’m close.”

“Let me see you, baby. Let me taste the mess you make.”

That didn’t so much as nudge Steve off the cliff as it drop kicked him into his orgasm.

“Hahh! Daddy, I’m there! I’m there...”

The mind-halting knot of sensation burst inside him with a force that let Steve not even care that he craned his face toward the arm of the couch, moaning and splashing his hair over the upholstery like a romance novel cover.

He realized somewhere in the middle that Billy had grasped his cock and was the reason his climax kept going. Milking little dribbles of cum out of him. Steve hadn’t cum like this in years, and he lay riveted to Billy hastening his rhythm to chase his own cliff edge.

The furrowed brows of concentration on Billy’s face were wiped off by Steve gripping his shirt and yanking him down for Steve to taste him, to plunder his mouth and feel that soft material against his own bare, messy torso.

Billy shuddered and pushed, pushed against Steve like he meant to bury his cockhead inside as he came. The visual sent an aching thrill into Steve’s core, knowing how Billy looked when he came and knowing that he’d cum inside. It made Steve eager to feel the pressure of his thrusts and the aftershocks when he pulled out to repeat it all again.

Steve had just cum like a seventeen year old and wanted to go all the way, with Billy’s hands all over his backside and his scruff against Steve’s ass cheeks-

Billy’s hand brushed over his hair and eased around to cradle his head. “What are you thinking behind those big eyes?”

Steve blinked drunkenly up at him even though it certainly wasn’t whiskey giving him this high. “My eyes?”

“Mmhm,” Billy hummed through lips pressing into a content smile. He hovered over his elbows, still framing Steve in but not crowding him. Fingertips pressed little swirls over his scalp, drifting around his ear. “I like your big, doe eyes.”

No one ever commented on his eyes. His hair, obviously. His butt. His shoulders. His moles. Billy gazed down at him, searching through Steve’s thoughts. The way he always had, really.

“Thinkin’ about you creaming me instead of your pants.”

Billy turned his head to the side so he didn’t laugh directly in Steve’s face. “Only if I’m not dreaming this time.”

This time.

God, Steve liked what that implied.

His arms came around Billy’s shoulders, loving the broadness and weight of the man on top of him. He kissed him softly, bumping his nose against Billy’s and eliciting a groan while Billy tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

“Again,” he begged through the kiss. “I want you again, Daddy.”

#i've never written a daddy kink before #i hope it's okay u_u #harringrove #neonponders #pondermoniums #ficlet #daddy #daddy!kink #my greek mythology nerd is showing #steve out here being a service top even when he bottoms

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

Every Now and Then - Ch 2

Summary: “It’s a simple case of not enough versus taking what you can get. Sometimes she sees him for a day or two, then not again for almost half a year.” Relationships are hard. When one person is a world-wide superstar and both people are idiots, they get that much harder. They both take what they can get, but eventually that may not be enough.

Warnings: Two large dollops of smut, a half-cup of angst divided, several pinches of language, dash of loneliness, and a good sprinkle of lack of communication. Fold ingredients together gently, bake at 200c fan for 20 minutes, then serve piping hot from the oven.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: So many, many thanks to @glassjacket and @thoughtslikeaminefield for endless cheers and edits and more cheers. I love you both. Thank you to @there-must-be-a-lock for the lovely image (and all the many wonderful choices you gave me to pick from). Please excuse my slang terms if I got them wrong. I did a lot of internet research but was too self-conscious to ask an actual British person for advice.

Folks, it's hard to keep writing without much feedback. If you enjoy the story, please let me know in some way. Thank you so much for reading.

Word Count: 872

In case you missed it: Chapter 1 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist ...

Every Now and Then

Chapter 2

“You smile with your whole self when you really mean it, did you know that?”

“Pardon?”

He looks up from his tea and newspaper. They’re enjoying a very rare morning where he has no commitments and she is able to put off work for a few hours. Normally, the night is their time, and she so loves the casual, easy mornings they occasionally get where she can spend a few precious hours watching the sun glint in his coppery hair.

He’s growing his facial hair out again, as he always does after a clean-shaven role, and her inner thighs burn deliciously in the afterglow of the previous night’s activities. She squirms comfortably, pulling her dressing gown a little more tightly around herself, and takes a sip of her coffee before she answers.

“When you really mean it, when you genuinely feel the smile, you tend to do it with everything you’ve got. Your soul shines out of your face. I thought you might not know.”

His eyes inexplicably turn a little sad as he gives her his full attention, folding the newspaper and laying it down next to his cup. The morning is cool, and she clutches her mug in chilled fingers, tucking her feet underneath herself where she sits on the couch. He is framed by the rising sun behind him, and she has to squint a little to see him properly.

“That’s a bit existential for sunrise, don’t you think? I haven’t even got my first run in yet.” He rises, stepping carefully around the table to join her on the sofa. She immediately leaves her coffee behind on the side table in favor of fitting herself under his arm and twisting around to stare up at his clear, inquisitive eyes. They’re a little less bright than normal, and she just can’t have that.

“I’ve seen most of your smiles. I’ve seen your acting smiles and your interview smiles and your ‘paparazzi are the devil but they do catch facial expressions you didn’t know you were making’ smiles. All your smiles are lovely, even the sad ones, but I like your sunrise smiles the best. The ones you aren't even aware of, like when you read something in the paper that hits you just right or when you take that perfect sip of tea, or when I’m about to finish you and you’re all tense and gripping the sheets and your eyes are closed. Sometimes you don’t really mean it, and your smile only goes part way up, it doesn’t get all the way to your eyes. But sometimes you’re completely open, lost in the moment and not paying attention, and your smile hits every little part of you. You don’t even realize it, and, god, are you ever beautiful then.”

For people who don’t get to see each other often or regularly, she suspects they have abnormally long periods of time where neither speaks. It’s a little absurd, especially considering how she loves to simply hear him speak (his Julia Child impersonation had her gasping for air between bouts of uncontrollable laughter), but they do a lot of soulful gazing. His fingers are steady and warm as they stroke down her cheek, and though she leans into the touch, she doesn’t look away. His hand continues down until it rests lightly at the base of her throat. Those slender, impossibly long fingers stretch around, and if they don’t quite meet around her throat, it’s a near thing.

Her breath hitches at the slight tension in his hand, and she allows her expression to ratchet up in accordance with her rising temperature. He leans forward, breaking eye contact as a necessity, his nose brushing down alongside her own. His breath is warm, Earl Grey scented against her skin, and her eyes flutter closed.

“You seem to know me and my face so well, darling,” he murmurs, his lips grazing her cheek as he speaks. He continues exploring the sensitive skin of her face, even as his fingers tighten infinitesimally. His beard rasps along her jaw, and she simultaneously shivers and moans, trembling in his grip.

“Tell me, then, love, what does this expression mean?”

It’s more the abrupt loss of his touch that forces her eyes open than his question. A helpless burst of laughter erupts from her chest as her hands fly unconsciously to her mouth to stifle her giggle s. He’s leaned back, thumbs hooked into the sides of his mouth to stretch his smile to ridiculous proportions, waggling both tongue and fingers at her as he crosses his eyes.

“Oh, my god, you wanker! I was having a serious, deep moment, and you have to go and ruin it!” She shrieks as he pounces suddenly, pinning her on her back and running nimble fingers over the most sensitive spots on her ribs beneath her open dressing gown.

“Oh, love,” he murmurs, continuing his assault. “I had no idea you were a snorter. It seems you’ve been holding back. Now, I wonder, what else can I do to persuade you to repeat that adorable little sound?”

His grin is thoroughly wicked now, though she’s now viewing it through tear-blurred vision, and it reaches every bit of his face. ...

Chapter 3

#smut #angst #language #loneliness #lack of communication #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #marvel rpf #mcu rpf #unnamed original character #reader insert #female reader insert #unnamed female character #rpf

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