Captain Beatty Physical Description Novels & Stories

Del fuero as his elephant ears reddened and his glare at me intensified, halatang hindi nagustuhan ito especially that someone who was laughing right now at his expense. "Will you shut your goddamn mouth, Captain Corteza???" Galit na saad nito sabay lingon sa likuran nito, causing the staffs blocking the captain from the view hastily stepped to the side and revealing the laughing captain. Probably they're scared to be pierced by their employer's dagger look. At the sight of the captain, napapatango na lang ako. I can tell that he had the same height with Mr.del fuero's but not with his behaviour for sure. His black hair was slightly wavy and long, but not as long as Allan's shoulder length h

They just have to put up with it I'm getting up early after that night Patrol meant lack of sleep as well not to mention no training for themselves everyday that was my punishment. Gabby, his Beta, had dropped an envelope on the desk for him, he was smiling that stupid grin he got when there was something mischievous to happen. Barry raised an eyebrow at his Beta, who's grin just got bigger, and he just stood there staring at him, it seriously couldn't be that funny. Although Gappy thoughts most things are funny nowadays, the man was 6 ft with dark brown eyes short light brown hair and dimple in his chin and one deep dimple in his right cheek which was showing in his clear amusement over wha

He is a disgusting, demented creature. As everyone took their leave to rest, I lowered myself to my knees and looked at the unconscious man lying down next to my feet. Despite looking like he went through a meat grinder, my destined mate is undeniably a beautiful man. He has a masculine, square-shaped jaw, full of thick raven-black beard and a slightly squared-shaped face framed with tousled black hair which reaches his shoulders. His hair, although now dull and full of gore from battle and battery he suffered from Malleteagan, is still giving magnificent contrast to his rosy complexion. He is not even remotely bulked up with muscles as Malleteagan is, but he is still out of ordinary tall an

His body was a work of devotion, and his sure stride, with each stride deliberate and assured emanated self-assurance. His short, wavy, dark hair was a sensible choice that emphasized his square facial features and powerful jawline. His steel-blue, piercing eyes shone with passion and intellect, a depth of character that matched his commanding build. Along with his rugged good looks, he exuded refinement and maturity with a well-groomed beard that highlighted his chiseled jaw.

From their reaction, I doubt he was a familiar face to them. He was about 6 feet tall with a beard. He had deadpan eyes that seemed to have no emotions left in them. His face made me guess he should be in his late thirties. His tattoo looked bigger than I remembered it to be while passing it but then again I was half-conscious when I first saw it so maybe that’s why. “So this is him.” Matteo’s voice sounded murderous like he would kill him immediately he set his eyes on him. “I’ll get a printout of this guy and set to work.” Bella stands up as she proceeds to get the printer reader, “Don’t worry too much about it as I and Anthony will find him soonest.”

Bellatrix started, her gaze drifting towards Melanie's companion—a short, fat middle aged man, with a balding spot at the center of his hair and receding hairline, a pot belly, and a double chin. She wasn't one to judge or body shame, but the bastard, who was currently eyeing her like she was some sort of foreign meal, looked more like a pig, than a human. Disgusting, she swore in her mind as his gaze roamed her body and his tongue reached out and wiped over his lower lip.

The taste of his mouth on me, the way he swallowed every drop like he owned it. I waited until the clock hit 1:30 a.m. Then I slipped out of my bunk in nothing but my gray sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. The hallway was dark. I moved quiet, bare feet on the cool floor, heading toward the captain’s office at the back of the station. The door was cracked open. A single desk lamp was on inside. I pushed it wider and stepped in. Captain Reed sat behind his desk in just a pair of black boxer briefs that did nothing to hide the thick bulge between his legs. His massive chest and arms were bare, muscles still pumped from the long shift. He looked up when I entered, eyes dark and hungry.

We were all impressed and he took charge of the group right away. Bart was tall with a muscular build. He had a ruggedly handsome face. He had dark brown hair cut in a high and tight military style. He had a full, but neatly trimmed goatee and moustache, and also a couple days growth on the rest of his beard. He had a gruff demeanor and his voice was deep and gravelly. He had on a black short sleeved button-down shirt over a white v-neck t-shirt, tight blue jeans and black boots. The v-neck of his t-shirt exposed a chest covered in thick dark brown hair. I quickly looked away when he caught me checking him out.

The warm glow of the overhead lights illuminated the polished surface of the bar, where patrons leaned in, sharing stories and secrets over their drinks. The bartender, a tall man with a rugged charm, stood behind the counter, effortlessly mixing cocktails with a fluidity that spoke of years spent in this bustling environment. His short, tousled dark hair framed a face that bore the marks of experience—laugh lines etched around his bright blue eyes, which sparkled with friendly warmth. A well-groomed beard added a touch of sophistication to his otherwise casual appearance, and the black apron he wore was adorned with a few colorful stains from his craft.

If that meant presenting a bold front then she would do her best to promote and sustain that impression. “This one should fetch a king’s ransom. What d’you reckon, Sammy?” her captor said, forcing open her mouth and inspecting her teeth for some reason known only to himself. He was old – at least fifty – and his bald pate was covered in several bumps which complemented the pockmarks on his ruddy cheeks. “I think we should keep her as a skivvy, Tom,” his companion remarked with a leer. Though younger, by no stretch of the imagination could he be called handsome. His tightly-curled hair reminded her of a sheep’s fleece and his body was thicker than an oak tree.