Tumgik
#cheese laces
triptychofvoids · 3 months
Note
Tumblr media
Mouse Anon be like...
Tumblr media
i just want to see what will happen, dont worry about it too much anon! enjoy your cheese!
61 notes · View notes
jrueships · 7 months
Text
the way they started griddying toward him like a bunch of zombies activating their zombie shuffle when they spot you in a post apocalyptic survival game
the way the cast it wrapped makes it accentuate ja's snatched waist 😭 tatum, please, pls tatum, I need you. You guys can make out while grabbing each others hips (ja has to have his locs down tho)
Tumblr media
my little gumdrop !!!!!!!
Tumblr media
ofc jaren steals multiple pairs, gayass
Tumblr media
a 5 year old showing me his lollipop that is completely covered in 200% hair & dust ( he wants me to try it )
6 notes · View notes
blooky8 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
my mood rn
1 note · View note
onlinesweetheart · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
<3
1 note · View note
simwithshan · 1 year
Text
"Workout" Planner Traditions Mod (PUBLIC - 11/9TH)
Tumblr media
Hey Simmers! 🌟 Get ready to spice up your Sims' lives with the "Workout Planner Traditions" mod – because who says getting fit can't be fun? Let's break down the weekly grind with seven days of wellness awesomeness!
🥦 Meal Prep Day: Make a 8 serving size meal for the days ahead!
🏃‍♀️ Leg Day - Jogging or Treadmill: Time to break a sweat with some cardio fun! Make your Sims lace up those sneakers and hit the pavement or hop on a treadmill for a leg day that's as fast-paced as their ambition.
💪 Arm Day - Workout Machine: If you don't have a workout machine at home, head to the gym! Pump those iron and sculpt those biceps. Your Sims will be flexing their muscles in no time!
🍔 Cheat Meal Day - Have a Snack: Throw the diet out the window (just for today)! Indulge in Sims' favorite snacks or quick meal, because life is too short for constant kale. 🍕🍟🍰
🧘‍♀️ Full Body Day - Do Yoga: Time to find your Sims' inner zen! Whether they're beginners or yoga gurus, this full-body workout will have them saying "om" in no time. Downward dog, anyone?
🧘‍♂️ Body Recovery Day - Meditate, Bubble Baths or Massages: Give those muscles a break and let your Sims find their chill. A little meditation, Bubble Bath or Massage goes a long way to keep them centered and ready for the next workout adventure. (Spa Day Required)
📸 Progress Photo - Take Body Photo: Say cheese! Capture the Sims' fitness journey with mirror pics! Watch the progress unfold! Stand near a mirror & use your phone to take a photo (not a selfie).
Download
4K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 15 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You want a field trip to North Island for your class, and Bradley is determined to deliver. He loves how you decide to show him some gratitude. He'd love it even more if you stayed and never left.
Warnings: Fluff, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Tumblr media
Bradley's alarm really pissed him off on Thursday morning. First of all, it went off an hour earlier than it usually did. And second, he had been sound asleep with your body tucked right up against him and his fingers laced with yours. When you began to stir as well, he kissed your ear and started to pull away from you. 
"I'm sorry, Baby," he murmured, voice laced with sleep and something intimate that he never remembered treating anyone else to. "Go back to sleep."
You rolled over so you were facing him, and your lips found his immediately. You kissed him softly as your fingers pulled through his hair, and he wanted more than anything to stay here with you all day. "I can't go back to sleep," you whispered. "Not when I get to spend a few extra minutes with you."
In the very short time you and he had been officially in a relationship, he had let himself indulge in the idea that you'd be around forever. That you wouldn't change your mind about him. That you'd love him and let him love you back, like equal partners. And right now all he wanted to do was keep holding you while he also couldn't wait to get to work and try to start sweet talking his superior officers.
"I can't be late today, Gorgeous. Not if I'm going to try my best to make a field trip for your class happen."
Your eyes lit up and you squeaked softly. "You're right. Get the fuck out of here."
He laughed and then groaned. "It shouldn't be sexy when you have a potty mouth." He gave you one long kiss before finally pulling away so he could get ready for work.
"I'll make you breakfast," you whispered, climbing out of bed completely naked before reaching for his discarded sweatshirt on the floor. It was yours now in his mind, and he couldn't wait until it and you were both permanent fixtures in his bedroom. That was going to have to wait a bit though unless you brought it up first. He'd already dropped the idea that he wanted to marry you in front of your class.
"You don't need to make me anything," he said as he started to pull on his clean flight suit, but you were already walking out of the room. 
Bradley finished getting ready as quickly as he could in your tiny bathroom, and when he made his way to your equally miniscule kitchen with his overnight bag, you were spreading cream cheese on a bagel and filling a purple travel mug that said #1 Teacher with coffee. "I'll see you tomorrow night?" he asked before taking a bite out of the bagel when you held it up for him.
"I mean... yes, I'll come right to your house from work tomorrow, but you'll see me before that." When he raised an eyebrow while he chewed, you shrugged and added, "I was planning on sending you a dirty picture while I get dressed."
Now both of his eyebrows were raised. "Yeah? How dirty we talking?"
All you said in response was, "I trust you to keep my job intact," before you kissed him and ushered him toward your door with his breakfast. "Go to work, and you'll find out soon. I love you."
"I love you, too, Gorgeous."
He would never get enough of your pretty face. He thought about it while he fought traffic going into San Diego and while crossing the bay bridge toward North Island. This drive sucked, but he'd do it every morning if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed with you. He also wanted to ask you to sleep over at his place during the week so you could test out traffic heading north.
When he finally parked on base, he didn't have to imagine your face any longer. He got to look at it in the picture you sent him twenty minutes ago. Along with your tits. Exchanging photos had always been a huge part of getting to know you while he was deployed, and he was delighted to find that the tradition continued.
"Oh my god," he groaned, needing to sit in his Bronco for a few extra minutes while he enjoyed the photo before ultimately saving it to his phone. Then he texted you back with a smirk before heading to the locker room.
Damn, Gorgeous. What I wouldn't give to spend a week in bed with that face and those tits.
Of course a honeymoon would be the perfect opportunity for that sort of thing. He dropped his bag off in his locker and made his way out to the hangar, running his hand over his face as he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. As soon as he spotted Maverick, he made a beeline in his direction.
"Rooster," he greeted, barely glancing up from the clipboard he was holding. Bradley knew it was such a longshot, but he had to just go for it at this point.
"Hey, Mav, you have a minute?"He glanced up over his aviators and said, "Always. What can I do for you?" Bradley cleared his throat and tried to make sure he sounded as relaxed as possible. "
I was wondering if a fourth grade class could visit base for a field trip one day? Do a tour of the hangars and the tarmac? Maybe sit in a cockpit? Just an educational trip for some kids who are studying aviation."
There was a brief pause before Maverick asked, "Are you sleeping with a teacher?"
Bradley groaned, head tipped back as he rubbed his eyes and tried not to laugh. "Yeah. She's my girlfriend though, so it's a bit more involved than that."
Maverick sighed. "If I give you special permission for this, then everyone is going to want me to do the same for them. You know that." Bradley started nodding in defeat when Maverick took his sunglasses off and asked, "How many kids are we talking?"
"Eighteen," he replied immediately, straightening his back like he was standing at attention.
"Which school?"
"Mira Mesa Elementary."
Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me see what I can do. Now get your helmet on and get to work."
------------------------------
You were finishing your lunch at your desk, about to send Bradley a text, when your phone rang in your hand. He was calling you in the middle of the day which was definitely odd.
"Bradley."
"Hey, Gorgeous," came his voice along with a ton of background noise. "Any chance you can bring your class for a field trip next week?"
Surely you misheard.
"Next week? You already got it approved?"
"Yeah." The deep, raspy rumble of his voice made you shiver. "Next Thursday work for you?"
You were on your feet, doing a little dance as you said, "You got it approved! I'll make it work. I'll type up permission slips right now. I'll call everyone's legal guardian tonight if I have to. We'll be there!"
"Perfect. Email me your complete class list so I can get visitor badges printed."
"Okay," you told him, glancing around like you didn't know where to start. "Right."
"I love you, Baby. Talk later."
He ended the call without another word, and you tucked your phone away before running a lap around your classroom. You wanted to go gloat to all of the other fourth grade teachers, but you wouldn't. You were absolutely certain that this only worked out because you were in a relationship with Bradley, so instead you got to work on the permission slips.
By Friday afternoon, your kids were beyond excited about their upcoming trip to North Island. You had secured eighteen permission slips, three chaperones and a school bus to take everyone down to Coronado next week. But today, you'd be driving there yourself to see Bradley. The traffic after work didn't even bother you as you drove to his house with both your overnight bag and your work bag. You had some quizzes to grade, but he promised you he didn't mind if you brought them along.
When you parked in front of his house, you grabbed your things and ran up to the front door which swung open before you could even knock.
"I just got home," he said with a laugh in his sexy khaki uniform and boots. "I was thinking about giving you a key in case you beat me here one of these days. Oh, shit."
You set your bags down just inside his front door and then had your hands tugging down his pants zipper before you leaned up to kiss him. As you pulled his cock free, you whispered, "I just wanted to thank you again."
You bunched Bradley's shirt up around his abs and dropped to your knees while the front door was still open, and he grunted before quickly closing it. "You don't have to thank me," he rasped as you kissed his cock, and he started to grow hard.
As you ran your nose along his length, you glanced up at him and asked, "You don't want me to give you a blowjob?"
His pupils were wide as he shook his head. "Could you imagine a world in which I didn't want you to give me a blowjob? Because I definitely couldn't."
You laughed and parted your lips. "Then let me say thank you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."
His big hand settled on the back of your head, giving you an eager push, and you took him deep as he groaned, "It's my pleasure, Baby. In so many ways."
He was velvety soft and warm, fully hard now, and you gagged as he bottomed out. You let your tongue glide slowly along his length until you pulled him free, saliva already dripping down to his balls. Then you took a deep breath and let him push you again, bobbing your head as your eyes watered. His balls were heavy in your hand, and your mouth watered more as you thought about tasting him.
When you looked up at his handsome face with your mouth full of his cock, he stroked your cheek with his free hand. "So gorgeous. So perfect." He was flushed pink, and you vaguely thought for a second about how funny it would be if Vanessa showed up right now to see this happening.
You let your hands settle on his hips, and you bobbed your head until he was tapping the back of your throat again. Bradley's sharp gasp just made you go harder, and his fingers digging gently into your hair made you go faster. "Fuck," he whispered, eyes glued on your lips as you let him pop free. You licked a swirl around his tip before going deep and sucking until your cheeks were hollow, and you could feel him throbbing with need.
"I'm really close," he crooned as you squeezed his hip. You listened to him panting as you stroked his balls with your thumb, and then you sputtered when he came. You swallowed him down as you wrapped your fingers around his base and jerked him off until he had his hand braced on the wall for support. Every drop of his cum was swallowed down, and you kissed his cock when he was finished.
"Come here," he whispered, reaching for you before doing anything else, and as you stood, he scooped you into his arms. His lips collided with yours, and you sighed as he tasted himself in your mouth. "That was hot."
Bradley's nose bumped yours as he kissed you harder and started to walk you further into his house. "We could always do it again later," you whispered with a laugh as you ran your fingers along the sheen of sweat along his hairline.
"I have other plans for you for later," he promised, voice deep and dark.
"Tell me," you whispered, but he shook his head.
"You'll find out after I cook dinner."
"Can I have a hint?"
He glanced to the side and nodded as you walked through the living room with him. "Another couch date. Kind of."
"I love couch dates."
"I love you."
Bradley made you a grilled cheese sandwich, and he made two for himself, and you stood in his kitchen with him while you ate and sipped a beer. He didn't even bother to finish zipping up his khakis after tucking himself away, and he kept you in his grasp as he told you all about what he wanted to share with your class during the field trip.
"I can take them on a tour of the hangar," he murmured, kissing your cheek. "Let them listen in on air traffic control. Do you think they'd want to sit in my cockpit?"
"Bradley," you said with a laugh. "Of course they would want to! I want to!"
"Yeah?" he asked, running his mustache along your neck. "Maybe you can sit on my lap in my cockpit? I could show you my throttle."
Your face felt warm as you whispered, "You'll get me a lifetime ban from North Island."
"Can't have that," he said solemnly, shaking his head. "When you're on summer break, I'm going to want you to come visit me at work all the time."
Butterflies erupted in your belly as you pictured yourself in six months. Visiting him at work would be incredible. You could stop by with a coffee like he had done for you, and maybe you could take one for Natasha as well. But you were also thinking about how he casually announced to your class that he intended to marry you in the not so distant future.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt the front of his unzipped pants through the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not driving back and forth to Coronado every day during my break, Bradley."
He smiled at you and said, "Understood. You can just spend the night as much as you want. I'm right by the beach, so you can sunbathe all day until I'm done working, and then I'll take you out to Salvatore's or cook dinner for you."
"Or we can just hang out on the couch," you whispered, your lips brushing his.
"Speaking of the couch..."
-----------------------------
"Harder."
Your voice filled the living room along with your little grunts and moans as Bradley held your hips in place. You were bent over the arm of the couch with your ass up in the air, fingers digging into the cushions while he fucked you. For as sweet as you were, he loved you like this just as much. Loud and needy for him.
The sound of his body slapping against yours was already obscene, but if you wanted it harder, he'd let you have it. He was yours in every sense of the word, and he would make sure you knew it. "Does that feel good?" he crooned, watching your pussy grip his cock. "It looks fantastic," he grunted.
Your response was unintelligible but enthusiastic, so he kept going until he was close and your legs were shaking. The blowjob you gave him earlier seemed to take the edge off, because as soon as he started rubbing soft circles on your clit, you came for him, but he wasn't quite there yet. He slowed his pace down, let himself enjoy the feel of you shaking and squeezing him. He could have probably gone longer, but then you turned and looked up at him over your shoulder.
"That was so good," you said with a shaky voice, "I saw stars."
"Oh hell." He came inside you as you chewed on your lip and looked at him like you'd never get enough. "Come here." You stood with your back pressed against him while he was still buried deep. "You want to snuggle?"
"Always," you whispered as he peppered kisses to your shoulder. And then the two of you ended up on the couch, and it was sweet again as you curled up mostly on top of him while he drew shapes on your palm.
And that's how the whole weekend was. On Saturday, the two of you spent a few windswept hours on the beach, wrapped in a blanket together, talking and laughing. But after the sun set and the sky turned that pretty pretty color that looked both blue and orange at the same time, your lips found his.
"Gorgeous," he groaned, hands on your thighs, feeling your warmth through your jeans.
"I love you," came your immediate response, and Bradley could barely contain himself. He wanted everything with you, but he was afraid of moving any faster than this already pretty blistering pace. But even thinking about the nights this week when he'd have to fall asleep without you and wake up alone were creeping into the back of his mind.
He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, "I love you too, Gorgeous. And I'm just going to say this one time, and then I'll let you bring it up again if you feel like it."When he paused, you said, "Okay," in a soft voice, and he took a deep breath.
"If we ever reach a point where you think you want to move in with me, that would make me very happy. You already have a key now, but if you want it to be even more permanent, I would love that."
"Oh," you gasped, and he suddenly wished he hadn't said anything about it. "My lease ends in January."
"January," he repeated, like it was a word he was unfamiliar with.
"Mmhmm. In about two months." You kissed his cheek and wrapped his hand up in yours. "That seems reasonable, don't you think?"
Bradley let you push his shoulder playfully until he was laying on his back, and then you were in his arms just like you were on the first date. "Yeah, that seems reasonable," he whispered as the sound of your soft laughter mingled with the crashing waves.
"At least give me a chance to test out the commute to work," you said with a kiss.
"I'm not in a hurry, Gorgeous. I'm just in love."
-----------------------------
You didn't get home from Bradley's house on Sunday night until almost eleven, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain about it. He helped you grade your quizzes, and he read over your lesson plans like it was a bestselling novel. Then he made you a snack after dinner and went over the plans for the field trip.
"I'll take care of everything this week," he had promised. "I'll get visitor's badges for everyone, and you'll just need to go through the security checkpoints when you arrive. Your kids will have a blast. Just wait until they get to watch Marty work on an engine rebuild."
"The kids are going to lose their minds when they see your Super Hornet," you had promised. "And I will, too. I was already falling for you when you sent me the cockpit photos, and now I'm head over heels."
After that, Bradley carefully folded up your lesson plans and put them in your bag while you tried to hide your smile. And that's why you got home so late. Because the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other for more than a minute.
But it made for a long Monday. And your Tuesday wasn't much better. By Wednesday, even the phone calls and texts with Bradley were barely enough to keep you going. You hated thinking about his next deployment, but it was always at the back of your mind. He wanted you to move in with him, but even his beautiful house in Coronado wouldn't save you from feeling devastatingly lonely the next time he was on an aircraft carrier. Nothing would.
He told you he wanted to drive up and spend the night with you on Wednesday, but he was yawning nonstop over the phone, and you knew he would have to get up earlier if he came up to your apartment. "You sound as exhausted as I feel, and I'm going to see you in the morning anyway," you told him as you curled up in your bed." Actually all nineteen of us are going to see you in the morning."
"I love my pen pals," he said with a laugh. Then he repeated your words from so many weeks ago. "Do you still want me to kiss you as soon as I see you?"
"Bradley," you moaned, rolling onto your side. You were melting, and he wasn't even here. "I always want that."
"Good, because I don't think I could... Oh shit!" he shouted, and it sounded like he dropped his phone.
"What's wrong?" you asked, jolting up in your bed. "Bradley?"
"No, no, no," came his voice, but you could tell he wasn't right next to his phone speaker. He actually sounded scared, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be going on, and then he said, "There's a fucking spider on my bedroom wall!"
"Oh," you replied, letting out the breath you'd been holding.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do?! Why aren't you here?!"
"Bradley, just squish it with some paper towels," you told him, trying not to laugh at his panicked voice.
"You want me to take my eyes off this fucking thing to go to the kitchen? I don't think so!"
You pressed your lips together and composed yourself before asking, "How big is it?"
"It's huge! The size of a quarter!" he shouted. "It's moving!"
"Bradley, pick up one of your boots or a shoe and smash it," you told him as calmly as you could. "You can do this."
"Okay. Okay, right. Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded even more distant. "I can do this." There was a terribly loud thump, and then he said, "I hate this so much."
"Is it dead?" you asked cautiously.
"Yeah, but I'm too scared to sleep in here now. What if its family shows up for revenge in the middle of the night?"
You snorted and collapsed back onto your pillow. "That seems a little dramatic."
"Does it?" he asked. "Because this is something you should be taking care of for me. I'll take care of anything else, but this one thing is on you, Baby."
You started to pull your shirt off as you asked, "Would you feel better if I sent you another dirty photo?"
"I would feel a lot better if you sent me a dirty photo," he said, and now you could tell he was smiling.
"Hmm... you think you'll be able to get some sleep if I do?" you asked, tossing your shirt aside.
"A full eight hours."
You held your phone up, smiled sweetly, and snapped a picture. "Let me know when you get it," you said as you texted it to him.
A few seconds later, you giggled as he groaned. "Got it. You look like perfection, and I love adding these to my top secret folder," he muttered. "Thank you."
Now you were yawning as you pulled your sheet up to your chin. "You're welcome. I'll see you in ten hours. I love you."
"Love you, Baby."
-------------------------- You thought you were prepared for the field trip to North Island. You had bus snacks, and responsible chaperones. You had copies of all of the required paperwork that the Navy insisted you fill out ahead of time in a folder. You even had a list of all of your kids for the guard station officer which Bradley reminded you to bring. But nothing could have actually prepared you for the excitement that all nineteen of you clearly felt when the school bus pulled up to the gates with the airstrip directly in front of you.
"Whoa!" said Jayden, trying to hang out the window for a better view. "There's a jet taking off!"
All of your kids scrambled to the right side of the bus to get a better look, and you did too. The aftermath of the takeoff was loud, and you signaled for everyone to cover their ears as they all watched the aircraft soar into the sun.
"Do you think that was Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Nia asked excitedly as your heart raced.
"No," you replied as you watched the jet fly off into the distance. "He said he would meet us after we parked in the visitors lot." When the bus started moving up to the guards, you waved your hand for everyone to sit down again. "But if you're all really well behaved, I'm sure there will be some surprises for us today!"
When it was your turn to talk to the guards, you climbed out of the bus and handed over all of your paperwork. They double and triple checked everything. As they looked at your school ID and driver's license, one of them said, "This location requires top clearances. We hardly ever see field trip groups. Someone on base must really like you."
You thought about Bradley and his kisses and his couch and how he wanted you there to share his bed and always take care of the spiders. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate," you told him with a smile, and he handed you a bundle of lanyards. Hanging from each one was a visitor's pass for each of your students as well as four for you and the chaperones. "Thank you."
Even as you handed each kid their pass and told them they needed to wear them at all times, your heart raced in anticipation. They were all looking back at you with wide-eyed excitement; these were the faces of kids who had learned a lot in your classroom already this year. They were as eager to learn more about aviation today as they were months ago, and you were so happy that Bradley had been a big part of this whole experience.
As the bus driver parked, you saw your boyfriend through the window, standing tall next to the building. He was in his flight suit, and his back was ramrod straight. There were two other officers with him, and they had even more pins on their uniforms than you remembered seeing on his. You needed to reel in your expectations, especially in front of the men who you assumed were Bradley's bosses. But when you smiled, Bradley smiled back. And when you led your students down the steps and over to the sidewalk, his posture relaxed.
"Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."
--------------------------
The field trip of my dreams! Okay, so we are definitely going to see Marty at work, but what else should the kids get to experience? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 16
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@horseslovers2016
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
@daggerspare-standingby
@nessjo
@trickphotography2
@lyn-js
@marve2014
@furiousladyking
@godsfavoritebabe
785 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
Reader sending a picture of her not very balanced very snacky but yummy meal captioned “girl dinner!!” while Spencer is away on a case and it just turns into Spencer calling her in front of everyone to kindly lecture on how that isn’t an actual meal and how she needs to eat something real/he’ll order something for her LMAO
You're not expecting the immediate call from Spencer after you send him a picture of your meal, but you pick it up anyways with the crunch of a pretzel stick.
"Spence?" You speak through your mouthful, long-since over the illusion of perfection around him.
"Angel," He greets you, worry lacing his sweeet voice, "Is that really your dinner?"
"Yeah," You laugh, looking down at the collection of pretzel sticks and cheesy popcorn that adorn the plate around your bowl of macaroni and cheese, "I don't feel like anything else."
"Sweetheart," He hums, "That's not a very nourishing meal. You're probably going to feel gross afterwards, it's going to make you tired and you're not going to feel very energized tomorrow."
"Spence, I know," You chuckle, adjusting the phone against your ear, "It's girl dinner. It's supposed to be unhealthy and mismatched."
"Girl dinner," He grumbles, his brows probably furrowed adorably. "What-?"
In the background you hear assorted giggles, Prentiss's the most recognizable. You assume that others are JJ and Garcia, and you hope they're enjoying themselves.
"It's a meme," You explain, "An internet joke, Spencer. I'm in the mood for junk food, so instead of forcing myself to eat healthy all the time, sometimes you just have to give in and eat like shit for a night. Girl dinner."
"If you paired it with a vegetable, you'd at least be getting some nutrients," Spencer tries, but you cut him off while you stir your macaroni.
"No vegetables. This is girl dinner. I'm okay, Spence, I'll eat something really good for breakfast tomorrow."
"Okay," He's hesitant to agree, "But- but honey, if you're having trouble preparing yourself food, I can order in for you, okay? Just tell me what you want and I'll wake up early to have it sent over."
"Spencer!" You giggle, eager to get to your less-than-balanced meal, "Okay. This is just a one-time joke, okay? I thought it would be funny to send you. You don't have to worry."
"I worry about you all the time," He confesses, and you know it's meant to be flattering instead of insulting, "I'll have fresh fruit delivered for you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay, Spencer." You finally concede, "Okay. I love you."
"I love you too," Now you hear the relaxed smile in his voice, "Enjoy your- uh, girl dinner."
6K notes · View notes
fallen-g0dz · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Damn....
THE CHEESE STICKS ARE LACED!
MY CAN OF SODA BECAME THIS LITTLE BUGGER!
I need to take a break.. because I'm having hallucinations.
0 notes
apomaro-mellow · 1 year
Text
Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down
Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.
He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.
[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂
He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.
After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.
(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡
Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.
Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.
-------------------------------------------
[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂
Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.
But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.
Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.
(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡
And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.
[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.
Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.
A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.
(1:07) You saw me?  (1:09) From my apartment?  (1:10) Creepy
He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.
[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?
Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.
(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.
Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.
[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.
Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.
(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning
He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.
Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.
[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?
Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.
(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets
The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.
[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.
Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.
Part 2
3K notes · View notes
jarofstyles · 4 months
Text
Leather & Lace
Tumblr media
Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you
Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!
Wc- 8.2k
Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping
---------
“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 
“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”
He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 
But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 
Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 
Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 
From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.
“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 
“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”
He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 
Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 
No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 
It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 
They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 
Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 
Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 
Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 
Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 
It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 
Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 
The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 
—--
“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 
“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 
God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 
“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 
He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 
The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 
“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 
“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”
“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”
“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.
—-----------
Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 
Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 
“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 
“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”
As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 
Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 
“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 
A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 
“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 
That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 
He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 
“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 
“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 
“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 
—-----
Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 
He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 
“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 
“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”
Ah, a shot to the heart. 
Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 
He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.
“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 
“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 
Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 
“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 
She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 
“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 
“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 
“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”
Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 
After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 
“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 
“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 
Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 
She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 
“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”
Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 
“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 
Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 
“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 
He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 
“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.
“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 
“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 
While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 
“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”
“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 
God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 
“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 
Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 
“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”
Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”
Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 
And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 
“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.
“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 
Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 
“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”
And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 
“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 
Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 
Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 
Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 
Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 
Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 
Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 
What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 
“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 
“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 
“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 
“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 
She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 
Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”
Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 
“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”
“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 
How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 
“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 
This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 
“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 
How could he ever tell her no? 
Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 
His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 
He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 
“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 
The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 
“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 
“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 
“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 
Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 
“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 
Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 
“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”
955 notes · View notes
delirious-donna · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
an: I had this thought and it wouldn’t leave me so please enjoy the filth of my brain 😌 short but sweet…
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: suggestive, dirty talk, public setting, reader is very embarrassed by their situation
Tumblr media
Frozen in place in the midst of the grocery store, you dared not to move. A slow trickle escaped your body and you firmly clenched your thighs together in the hopes of preventing anything further from leaking out. This was mortifying, this would be the thing that turned you into dust to blow across the wind for the rest of time.
A large hand found the small of your back, warm and familiar, followed by a concerned voice by your ear. “Something wrong, honey?”
You whipped around to him, face growing impossibly warm and sweaty at the immediate imagery of honey dripping from its pot. The slow sensual pour of sticky nectar prickled down your spine, and you wondered if he already knew of your current plight. Kento’s eyebrows rose towards his neat hairline, completely oblivious, despite your worries to the contrary, but he did sense your discomfort.
“Don’t you honey me,” you whisper yelled, poking a sharp finger into the centre of his chest. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
“Talk you into… grocery shopping? We both need to eat, sweetheart,” he answered with a poorly disguised chuckle.
Kento turned to examine the fresh produce, squeezing mangoes to find one nearing ripeness, and you damn near dropped to the floor at the sight. His impossibly large hand encased the whole fruit, fingers flexed around the fleshy skin and all you could think of was how that was exactly how he would squeeze and grope at your breasts.
You took a step closer—drip.
“Kento…” you whined pathetically, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and doing your damnedest not to dance on the spot like a child in need of the nearest bathroom.
With a sigh, he placed the basket hooked over his other hand on the floor and brought you into the shelter of his body. His chin rested on your head whilst your arms encircled his waist, holding him gently and only for a moment before pulling away.
“I’m leaking.”
Kento paused, perplexed. “You’re what?”
This was so embarrassing and he was going to make you spell it out for him. “What did we do before grocery shopping?”
“We showered, you cooked breakfast and I—oh.”
The penny finally dropped and you could kick him for the shit eating grin that spread across his face. You weren’t accustomed to such obvious delight etched over his features and at your expense too!
Before you could think to follow through with kicking his shin or huffing and puffing, he pulled you into his side and lowered his mouth to your ear. The warm fan of his breath sent goosebumps rippling up and down your arms and your pulse quickened.
“Am I right in saying that my seed is leaking out of you?” He asked coolly, as if he was asking you an everyday question like what type of cheese should we buy this week.
You nodded, afraid of your own voice right now.
Kento hummed. “Then I clearly didn’t fuck it deep enough. We’ll have to remedy that. How does it feel? I’ll bet it’s all warm from your hot little pussy.”
“Kento!”
“That’s right, my love. That’s how you screamed my name when I had your ankles by your ears. Mm, my sweet honeypot.”
If you weren’t melting already, you certainly were now. Your body betrayed you wilfully, the walls of your cunt pulsing to push more of the creamy cum into the seat of your underwear. Kento laced his fingers with yours and began to guide you down the aisle, but you walked on stiff legs, so afraid of what might leak down your thigh if you moved normally.
“I’m stuck! What if I make a mess? I can’t stand here all day,” you squeaked much to Kento’s amusement. He was enjoying your predicament far too much, the wicked man that he was.
“Shall I find you a cart to sit inside?”
“You’re not funny mister…”
“Oh, but I’m not laughing, darling. You’ve let my gift escape, which I find rather rude. I intend to finish this shop fast and replace what you’ve lost.”
You blinked, lashes fluttering in rapid succession. The weight of molten heat dropped into the pit of your stomach. He couldn’t be serious.
Gently, he hooked your arm through his and patted your hand. His face was unreadable once more, eyes scanning the produce and placing items into his retrieved basket. So handsome, so calm, yet beneath the mask lay a man capable of ruining you with words alone.
“Come along, dear. I’ve just remembered we’re all out of honey… not that we don’t have ample supply of our own,” he whispered the last part beneath his breath.
“You’ll always be sweeter than honey to me.”
Tumblr media
817 notes · View notes
fanaticsnail · 3 months
Text
A bit of both
Masterlist here
Word Count: 2,900+
Tumblr media
Synopsis: You and Rosinante take your trust to a new level, engaging in two levels of weaving you had yet to use in sequence with one another.
Warnings: Rosinante x gn!reader, vibrator play (reader receiving), bondage (reader receiving), gagged (reader receiving), overstimulation, cock warming, dominant Rosinante x submissive reader, service Dom Rosinante, pet names (cara mia, mi amor, little thing), size difference, love confession, established relationship, praising (Rosinante giving), no gendered titles used, insertion sex (reader receiving), 18+, MDNI, smut.
Notes: This was not the fic I was working on, but the service-dom wanted to get out before the mean, jealous one. Ever since I wrote the "T" section for the NSFW Alphabet fic, I needed to see it explored a little more. I hope you enjoy.
Tumblr media
Trailing behind you, gift bags lazily slinging from his shoulder with their cord drawstrings caught in his fingers and palm, Rosinante rolled his eyes as you debated with yourself which item you truly wanted from the bakery. Drawing his arm down, he let the bags hang from his wrist as he shoved his hand into his pocket.
“I mean, on the one hand, I do want an almond croissant. The filling is almost like fresh marzipan, and it's so sweet,” you tapped your chin with your fingertips before looking to the other glass display, “But on the other hand, I kind of want something savory like a cheese danish. I don't know about the salt content versus the sugar. If you were to choose one-?”
“-We’ll take an almond croissant and a cheese danish please,” Rosinante held up his hands to the baker, gently shaking his head at you before glancing at the corner of his eye at you. With an arched brow, he placed his Berry on the counter and waited for his change.
“What are you playing at, Rosinante?” you question him linking your arm through his bad leaning on his shoulder, “That's too much, look at the size of them!”
“Take a bite of both of them, and then choose the one you like more,” he gazed down his nose at you with his hazelnut colored eyes, scolding you with his expression. “I'll eat the other one.”
“Smart,” you nod with your pout down-turning. He shot you a sly wink, taking the change and watching the attendant fold the brown bag down at the opening. Pastries already staining the covering with the fat from overly saturated butter, you reached up and made to gather the bags; halting immediately as Rosinante shot you a warning look.
Placing his Berry in your back pocket, he reached up and took the two paper bags in his hands while you laced your hand in the crook of his elbow once more. Sheepishly looking at the ground, you felt him stoop down and press his lips to your temple.
“You know I won't let you lift a finger, mi amor,” the low growl in his deep baritone caused your eyes to flutter closed and spine ignited with pricks of fine needles. Opening your eyes to fall half-lidded, you smile bashfully at him. He pressed his lips atop the apple of your cheek, his soft smile felt in his sweet kiss.
Pastry bags left crumpled in the refrigerator, gift bags lying messily by the door, clothes were scattered and discarded in the hamper in the corner of the room. Shoes placed together in the hallway, the dim light of the room illuminated the skin of your tall lover.
Gazing possessively down at you, his lip paint lay smudged on his cheeks and chin, as your own skin was littered with intentional kisses ranging from your littlest toe to the crown of your head. You pleaded with your eyes, your lips swollen and bruised from being mounted and dominated with his own lips moments prior.
He molded your flesh beneath his hands to worship you, before drawing out a lengthy piece of rope with the intent to accentuate and immobilize your features.
“You've been so good today, mi amor,” he whispered, coiling and knotting the rope over your breasts, “Such a good little thing for me.” You whimpered for him as he parted your thighs and drew one knee up to your wrist, circling it with the fabric.
You open your mouth to speak, his eyes shooting you a look of warning for you to hold your tongue. Elevating your other knee to your wrist, he insured you were snug enough in your ties that you were not uncomfortable. Crawling between your exposed thighs and lowering his chest and stomach over your torso, he smiled down at you with a playful twinkle in his eye.
“Before we start, do you want a sip of water or to finish your danish?” he offered, giving you a sweet and genuine smile, “I can get it out of the fridge for you.” You smiled back in response before shaking your head at him.
“No thank you, sir,” you chirped back at him. He learnt forward, brushing your nose with his own before drawing a woven gag up to your lips. You parted your lips, causing Rosinante to coo down at you in glee.
“So well mannered,” he praised you, “So good.” He pressed his lips over yours, the material preventing him from truly feeling your lips on his. “Now, remember what we talked about? Give me a demonstration of what you need to do if it gets too much?”
You bobbed your head up and down to nod in understanding before humming three notes up through your nose at him in a melody familiar to you both. Bondage was not a new concept to you, but with the addition of the gag it felt like you had no communication for if it got too intense. When you were tied, you would use your safe word when it got too much, just like your rapid taps against the mattress in code would halt motions when gagged.
“Perfect, cara mia,” he pursed his lips against your temple, “I'm gonna sit behind you now.” You nod eagerly, darting your eyes between his as he moves from your torso and kneel before you. His cock was achingly hard, his red top shining in the light from how desperate he was yearning for you.
The shibari had you feeling completely exposed and vulnerable, just the way Rosinante enjoyed you. Each time he tied you felt like you were a little gift wrapped up just for his delight, his complete control and your complete submission to him alighting a flame of trust between both of you.
Rising to his feet, he gingerly walks over to his knight stand and finds a leaf-shaped object and it's remote ignition. Eyes widening he moves his way behind you and presses his torso flush to your back before moving his forearms beneath your legs. Lifting you with ease, his tip lined up with your entrance which waited eagerly with prior lubrication.
Placing the tip over your quivering body, he eased you to softly impale yourself on his cock. Inch by inch, you took Rosinante's impressive length into you with your eyes wide and lips falling wide.
“You okay, mi amor? Not too much too quick, is it?” he hastily checked in, knowing the size difference may cause you some discomfort while you adjusted. You whined and shook your head, wriggling in his arms in a bid to take more of him within you. He chuckled, giving into your request and slinking you down on his steely cock. Hissing at the feeling, Rosinante let out a shuddering deep moan as he felt your body move to accommodate him.
“Oh, so good,” his deep voice praised you, his lips finding your shoulder blade and caressing your skin. “Okay, stay still. One more tie, and we'll be all done.” You knit your brows in focus, tensing your abdomen as his hands move around the both of you.
The small leaf was pressed against your sensitive nerves at the front of you, prompting you to unintentionally gasp at the sensation. The small bud encumbered your nerves endings completely, the anticipation eating at you as he chuckled lightly. Adjusting the ropes, he insured the object was flush with your skin before wrapping the ropes around both of your waists. Each touch his hands gave you left tingles on your skin, your body fluttering around him as you kept yourself as statuesque as you could.
“Now all you have to do is keep my cock warm for me while we watch a play on the carrier snail,” he whispered against your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your lobe, “All I want you to do is cum for me. So, so much, mi amor.” Your eyes widened as you felt his hands reach for the switch for the projector snail, and for the remote attached to the soft leaf.
“Just sit pretty like you're doing,” he clicked on the projector, the lights flickering over the wall and starting the dancing lights and music to follow, “And cum on my cock.” The leaf buzzed and shook to life, your back arching into his torso at the intensity of the motion. Rosinante chuckled against you, feeling your body contract around him almost immediately.
The rhythmic thump of your entrance adjusting and the coil tightening in your abdomen was enough to strike lightning in your vision. Immediately writhing on his lap, you bucked and ground yourself back into him as best you could against the bonds. Your body chased your high, leaving a mess on both yours and Rosinante’s body as you came hard against the leaf.
“Oh, good job,” he whispered against your cheek, adjusting the switch as he felt you fall back from your high to not overstimulate you with too much intensity too quickly. Giving your thigh a gentle tap as you panted behind the gag, Rosinante soothed your skin before reigniting the switch.
Keening and choking through your gasp, he continued to dart his attention between focussing on you and the moving picture in front of you. Each time he felt your body almost reach its high, he would gaze down at you lovingly while he watched your face contorting in pleasure. Letting go of all thoughts as euphoria washed over you, he would always end your climax with praise and a soft kiss.
“So good for me,” he purred at you, the deep rumble in his chest cutting over the whines and mewls you'd release in ecstasy. “That one was a big one, huh? Keep it up, mi amor.” His hands began to dutifully worship your thighs and devote all of his attention to you. Constantly engaging with your feet and wrists to ensure adequate blood flow, he had you unravel on his lap another eight times for the duration of the moving picture.
Each time he felt you cum, he did his best to keep himself edged and not spill over too soon. Your body wrapped around and exposed for him and him alone had him fighting with himself for a sense of control: just how he needed it. He needed you to be a channel for his lust, his greatest escape and refuge from the hardships of his mission. Something he could control, to focus on, and to have an immediate response to his intentional actions. He needed you to have the release and freedom that he couldn't, waves of empathetic bliss being felt as he felt your body become void of anything other than him.
He needed that complete control.
Eyes glazed with dewy water, cheeks stained with hot tears, body and nerves shot with oversensitivity, gag damp with your own saliva, you felt completely void of all thoughts other than to engage in Rosinante's commands as best as you could.
Keep his cock in your body while the play projects, and cum as much as you could.
As soon as the screenplay ended, Rosinante let out a soft moan as he tested his cock by rocking you on his lap. Your body felt limp and pliable, nodding in acknowledgement as you felt him begin to move. Each follicle of your body was engaged, mind numb and pleasure coursing through your veins. Thrusting up, you heard him whimper a soft whine of your name as he rocked you harder and faster on his lap.
Head lulled on his chest, you felt him flick the leaf back to life and reach a hand around in front of you to add more pressure to the stimulation. His fingers and palm gave you that final push you needed to begin to chase a fresh wave of desire as he huffed and panted behind you. Jolting your body up and down his girthy cock had his blunt tip reach depths within you that had you cry out for him. Sobbing and whining, you felt the coil begin to tighten and compact into a ball as he continued to pummel up into you.
“O-Oh, fuck. You've got one more for me, don't you? Just one more,” he kissed and bit at your neck, tongue and teeth dragging at your skin, “Be good a little bit longer and give me one more. I want it. Give it to me.” His gruff bark had you immediately whine at yourself to focus on chasing your release, your oversensitive body almost giving out while bound in the safety of your harness.
A scream found its way through the muffled gag as you came hard around him, body shaking and trembling as he moaned deeply for you.
“Oh, fuck. Good job, such a good listener. Fuck-... Nghh-... I'm c-cumming,” he shuddered, burying his forehead in the crook of your neck as he shot ropes of his release into you, “Yes, yes. Take it. Take. It.” He continued to usher you into a lengthier release as his balls sucked into his abdomen and shot a viscous expulsion of desire up into you.
Huffing and panting, he kept rocking you as he fucked his release back up into you. Your body was limp like a doll, a marionette dancing bound in strings for him as your master. His movements staggered, his soft calls of your name singing to you his sweet song of praise.
Finally feeling himself still, the aftershocks of his twitches spurting the final shudders of release into you, he finally switched off the leaf and tugged your body to lie flush with him. Showering your skin in soft kisses, he panted against you while his cock lingered within you.
Straining against the bands, you attempt to unravel yourself from the ropes by rotating your wrists in a bid for relief. Rosinante is immediately refocused, gently coaxing his cock from you and manuevering you over to the pillows beside him. His digits flew like lightning, hastily untying you and insuring your body had regained circulation by massaging and pressing his lips against your skin.
“Rosinante, I'm okay,” you reassure him, smiling through your glassy eyes up at him. He smiled down at you while continuing to focus his attention on the knots and weaves. Releasing the last length of rope from your body, he pressed his lips over each point of strain on your wrists, thighs, backs of your knees and sensitive abdomen.
Each time he releases a small part of the bonds, you feel his devotion in his delicate touch. Each kiss, each caress, each gentleness in his intimate touch: he was a devotee to your altar. His prayers were to see you thrive and come undone by his motions. His dedication each of new session to explore the trust in one another was unmatched, and you truly adored him.
And he loved you completely.
As you moved to stand, your body was overcome immediately by the intensity of pleasure your body endured. Your skin was hyper sensitive to touch, and your bones congealed under the pressure. Rosinante rapidly clicked his tongue at you, pouting his lips before smiling up at you.
“Oh, come now. We've been through this,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours. You smiled through tight lips up at him, your vision hazy as you matched his doting twinkle in your dual vibrant afterglow.
“You know I won't let you raise a finger.”
Lips finally colliding, passion through overexertion lingered in the atmosphere. Parting lips, you gingerly hooked your arms over his shoulders and tugged him closer. He hummed against you, grinding his tongue against yours and stealing your breath from you. Lacing your fingers through his hair, he rotated his chin slowly to take on more of you through each languid motion.
Pulling away, he gazed deeply into your eyes with his orbs pooling with emotion. Caressing your skin, he pressed his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath huffing softly against your skin, “So, so much." To re-emphasize his intent, he repeated his phrase, "So much.”
“I love you too,” you whisper softly against his skin, moving your hands from his hair to his cheeks. “My heart. My sweet Corazon.” He smiled at you, taking a moment to linger in the world you forged together before humming softly at you.
“Yes, I'm all yours cara mia. Let me get you cleaned up.” The creases in the corners of his eyes were the most beautiful sight you'd seen, "You want bubbles or salts?" His gorgeous glimmer in his grin found purchase and roots in your heart with each beat.
“You think I can choose?” you giggle up at him. He hooked his arms behind your knees, your back supported by his other as he cradled you into him.
“It's alright, mi amor,” he chuckled at you, stumbling a little as he readjusted you in his arms. “You can have a bit of both and share it with me.”
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady
461 notes · View notes
romanoffsbish · 8 months
Text
So Kiss Me
Natasha Romanoff x R
Natasha was a perfectionist, something that normally benefited her, but when it comes to dating she is a bit lost. In her time as a spy and single woman she’d shared her fair share of kisses, but with you she’d yet to find the perfect moment… | WC: 1,521
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Pull over!" Natasha looked at you incredulously, it was pouring down rain and you were on a highway, driving away from her failed attempt at a picnic date.
Just before she denied you she let her gaze linger on your face, you looked so enthralled by the storm; wordlessly she pulled off onto the side of the road, her red emergency lights flashing in the dead of night.
——
If you were anyone else she'd have kept on driving, but you weren't. You were Y/N, the beautiful person who turned her world upside down just by existing. Gravity was lost on her planet though, so the vibe was wavy. All Natasha wanted was to make you happy so she stood beneath the dim light of the moon observing you. Not caring if it was cold and wet, because you were smiling.
After she helped you climb over a white fence and into a field you released her hand and began to twirl around  the wet, open grassy area in a fit of infectious giggles.
You were perfect. This entire moment was, honestly.
Natasha wanted to dance with you, but she was lost in her depraved thoughts, of your lips pressing into hers.
It was too soon, right? Two months and four dates, alongside many a lazy night in at the compound, and she had yet to make the daring move. Was she scared?
No, she told herself she was just being cautious. If you move too fast then things are more likely to crumble to the ground and that was the last thing she wanted. In this moment though, where you are genuinely joyful she questions what even constitutes the perfect timing.
Natasha dreamed it could've been today, you'd have just finished eating: a pb and j for herself and a bit of snacking for yourself, a strawberry here, some cheese and cracker there, a brownie made by Wanda, always.
The thought made Natasha smile, she could only imagine the mess you'd leave behind on your face in your rush to gobble the treat down. Her heart would skip and she'd scoot closer to you with the excuse of needing to wipe your face clean. She'd tease the idea of trying a brownie herself, then she'd lean even closer.
You'd look at her lips, a jolt of electrified energy would surround you as your eyes met again. The desperation muddled into your sweet y/e/c eyes would compliment her desire. Natasha would gulp down her fear, masking it with a channeled confidence and kiss you firmly.
Soft and slow as her tongue swiped your lips, in a perfect world she would have you in her lap. It would be a gradual shift, and just as your thighs touched hers she'd squeeze your hips and slide her tongue into you.
Tasting the brownie, catching hints of a dark caramel, not caring for the way that it covers your natural taste. Yet she would be compelled to stay where she was, unable to separate herself from your affection until she felt your body tremble from the oxygen deprivation. As she'd pull away she'd hotly whisper, delicious—the brownies review; commentary laced with innuendo.
Natasha would observe you fondly, the moment you stop feeling a need to gulp down air you'll meet her gaze and your lips will tiredly upturn. The redhead would grin just the same as she lifted water to your lips. The both of you'd sip some down, silently regarding one another before the inevitable embrace.
You'd likely still have been there now, laid out on the blanket beneath her with your tongues entwined. A beautiful encapsulation of your heart's connection.
It would've been perfect...
Natasha caught you staring up at her, heart racing in her chest and she smiled, realizing it still could be.
"Fuck it," the redhead whispered under her breath. In two long strides she was stood right before you, leaving enough space for you to move away, but you moved right into her open arms with a radiant smile. The rain had soaked through the both of your clothes but you were warm and so content in her offered embrace.
Wonder; the look in your eyes, bright and refreshing as you stared up at your lover. Natasha's eyes were a bit murky, a silly fight going on in her stubborn mind.
"You're so pretty Natty," you giggled, a finger raised up to boop her flushed nose, "my beautiful Natasha."
The storm in her mind faded instantaneously.
Natasha was uncharacteristically nervous, even though it was near pitch black you could still see her face flushing under the bright stars. The redness on her nose from the cold trailed a bright stripe across her cheeks and you'd never seen her look more beautiful.
You sighed gently, "What's on your mind honey?" Natasha leaned more into your touch as your thumbs mindlessly stroked over her cheeks, comforting her. A stuttered breath left her lips, "C-can I kiss you detka?"
You grinned, heart racing incredibly fast as you pulled her face close enough that she could feel as you nod. A nudge to your nose and then her lips were on yours. It was like the atmosphere had thinned around you but it didn't matter, your urge to breathe was nonexistent.
If Natasha was a succubus you'd willingly submit, it was never a question you had but now it was answered. The taste of her blood should've alarmed you, but all it did was make you press your soft lips further into hers.
It was like you were trying to love her back together, kiss her until all her broken pieces fit as one again. A warmth spread through her chest and radiated off the brief smile you felt against your lips. Strong arms then wrapped around your waist until her hands could grip your hips and lift you off the ground. A continuation of the expression of her unbridled joy as she spun you.
Your legs dangled and clacked together momentarily until you followed your reflex to wrap them around her, pulling her front flush to yours; it felt natural, to finally be this close to your true love, bodies entwined.
There was no place else either of you'd like to be, even if the field was another's territory it felt like you two belonged here. At least for the time being as your relationship reached new heights; a melodic moan left you as her tongue sensually swirled around yours, her grip on your hips tightened and you both realized just how heated the moment was with your back to a tree.
Natasha's arms loosened, resting on the sides of your body now as she lowered your feet to the ground. Your head tipped back, hanging off to the side of the tree trunk, your eyes full of happiness gazed up at her.
A playful sigh left you when you saw her eyes dart to your glimmering lips. "Took you long enough, Natty."
Natasha gasped in offense, "What ever do you mean?"
"Don't get me wrong," you coo'd, hands going back up to cup her cold, wet cheeks, "This was perfect, but I just had anticipated it would happen far sooner."
"Oh," she squeaked, almost embarrassed but she steeled herself. "Mind telling me when sweetheart?"
Natasha chuckled when you shivered, a mental note made to remember how easily you react to her teasing.
"I was ready after our first date," you admitted with a dreamy sigh to follow, "It was a perfect night to me."
The redhead nods, remembering the moment too.
It was the most awkward night of her life but you only seemed to find her timid exploration of the situation endearing. When she grabbed onto your hand while in line for the massive rollercoaster you gently smiled, refusing to acknowledge the sweat coating her palms.
You wished she'd kissed you then. When she tried the cotton candy for the first time you wanted to kiss her. Seeing the glint of childish amusement in her eyes as the sugar melted on her tongue made you sentimental.
At the top of the ferris wheel, when she risked putting her arm around your shoulders you'd expected it then. Yet still, she missed the opportunity to lean in, just like she did that night when she left you at your own room.
"I thought you maybe weren't feeling me," you admitted with a regretful tone, "but then you asked me for a second date; I realized you were taking it slow."
"Wow," Natasha acknowledged, "I am an idiot."
You giggled, "It's okay Natty, truly, I appreciate the consideration you gave to our relationship so much."
"I just want this to work Y/N," she pleaded, "I need us to be endgame. Nobody else could make me happy."
"You wanna be my endgame?" Natasha nodded, and held your tilted face in her hand, then she instinctively leaned in for a kiss, stopping only briefly to whisper, "More than anything," against your parted lips.
"I want that too, Natasha." The moment was perfect.
Every single minute spent with you always was....
815 notes · View notes
virginsexgod69 · 6 months
Text
❝ Video Star — ✩❞
Tumblr media
pairing (Season 7) Negan Smith x f!Reader
cw smut, unprotected p in v, slight humiliation, pussy slapping, bow jobs, name calling/ pet names, sex tapes, porn photography?
summary You and Negan have some fun with a digital camera you found on a run.
note ahh this is my first time writing for negan, so i hope it's okay... jdm is just tooo fine. i have wild thoughts whenever he's on screen 🫦
1.5k words
...
"Smile!" you said before snapping the photo, taking Dwight off guard. The picture was blurry and unfocused and due to the flash, he was squinting and not even looking at the camera.
"The hell?" he questioned looking at you crazy. "It's a camera, duh. Found it on a run," you explained. He walked off in an annoyed huff leaving you wondering what crawled up his ass and died. You continued walking about the sanctuary taking pictures of unsuspecting people.
"Laura! Say cheese," you prompted the blonde woman as she approached you. She rolled her eyes and held her hand up to the camera, affectively ruining the picture.
"Negan wants to see you," she said. You turned off the camera and looped the strap around your wrist before heading toward his room. What is was he wanted, you had no clue. Your relationship with the man in charge was an odd one. Toeing the line between wife and solider, you had no clue where you stood. Sometimes he sent you on runs, other times he spoiled you with little treats so you wouldn't have to spend any of your points. Once, when he called you in to have a glass of 30 year old scotch with him, the two of you ended up fucking in a drunken haze which lead to regular hookups. You knocked on the door once you arrived and waited patiently for him to let you in, wondering what he wanted and hoping it was to hook up.
He opened the door, revealing him leaning against the door frame in his white t-shirt with Lucille in hand. You stood there nervously, not knowing what to say or what mood to expect from him.
"You just gonna stand there lookin' stupid or you gonna come in?" He asked. He had such a way with words. You stepped into the large room and let him lead you to the couch by the small of your back. You sat in the chair facing the couch he took a seat in.
"Got a little somethin' for ya," he said with a wolfish grin on his face. You relaxed a little as he seemed fairly happy.
"What is it?" you asked, excitement lacing your voice. He reached behind his back and tossed a ball of white fabric at you. You held it up and revealed it was a sheer, lace babydoll dress. Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized that he expected you to put it on.
"Um...could you look away while I change," you asked shyly.
"I've seen you naked, been inside you, but you don't want me to see you change?" he mocked.
"Neeegaan," you whined. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, but covered his eyes with his hand nonetheless. You made quick work of stripping off your clothes, including you underwear, and put on the sheer number. It was a bit small. It struggled to contain your breasts and stopped at your mid-upper thigh, but to Negan, it added to your sex appeal.
"Goddamn, baby. You look fuckin' hot!" He said as he admired you. It was so sheer it barely left anything to the imagination and the lacy parts made you look angelic.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you teased with newfound confidence brought on by Negan's words. Then you remembered your digital camera. "Here." You tossed the camera to him. He caught it and smirked when he realized what it was. A lustful look washed over his eyes as he turned the device on.
"On your knees," he ordered using his leader voice. You quickly and eagerly obeyed him, which only made his dick harden in his pants. He walked over to you and grabbed you jaw in a large hand, tilting it up to look at him before snapping a picture.
"Just look at you. My pretty little doll." And that's exactly what you felt like. His pretty little doll. His to dress and pose and fuck however he wants. It made you wet, giving him full control over you like this.
"Take those panties off." Your body was hot with lust and shame as you slid the moistening garment off your body.
"Get on all fours." You did so and he manually readjusted you to how he wanted. Your ass in the air and back arched with your chin rested on your arms crossed beneath you. The skirt of the dress slid up your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. Negan snapped a few pictures of your face before moving behind you. You squeaked in shock when you felt his finger slide up and down your slit.
"Damn. So wet and I barely touched you." The humiliation of him taking pictures of your bare pussy only made you wetter. You got on your knees again and turned to face Negan.
"Let's make a sex tape," you suggested as you fiddled with his belt. His signature grin blossomed on his face and he looked down at you with lust filled, hazel eyes.
"Fuck yeah!" He started recording once you got his belt off and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. It sprang up, hitting his abdomen and revealing veins you could only see when he was erect. You took him in your hands, licking the precum off his sensitive tip before taking it in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it while slowly stroking the rest with your hands.
"Quit your goddamn teasing and suck my dick," he impatiently demanded. You looked up into the camera with mischief laden eyes as you took the rest of him into your warm mouth, earning a guttural moan from the man. Your pussy fluttered at the sound. Eager to hear it again, you stopped teasing and picked up the pace. But it must not have been enough since Negan grabbed into your hair and began fucking your face at his own rapid pace, ignoring the way you gagged around his large member and the tears streaming down your pretty face.
"That's it. Takin' me so good doll." Your cunt throbbed at the praise. He was getting close, you could tell by the way he twitched inside your mouth. He groaned as he emptied his white hot load down your throat.
"You did so good baby," he praised as he wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. He helped you up off the floor before pushing you onto his bed.
"Show me that pretty little cunt of yours." He spread open your legs and zoomed the camera in on your soaked pussy. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, as well. He delivered a rough slap to your pussy, forcing a moan out of you.
"You like it when I hit you, huh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he did it again.
"Please Negan! Need you so bad," you begged from beneath him. He ignored your pleas and directed the camera to your breasts, which were barely contained by the babydoll. He pulled them out with little effort. He gave you the camera to hold while he focused his attention to them.
"Such pretty tits," he complimented before nipping your nipple. You squealed in shock and pleasure. He had never done that before, but you liked it. With a flattened tongue, he licked the nipple he bit, soothing it before taking it into his mouth. The scratch of his beard felt so good on your sensitive, bare breasts. He rolled the nipple that wasn't in his mouth between his thumb and pointer finger, causing you to squirm.
"Need you inside," you slurred. Negan pulled away from you r breast with a pop and took the camera back from you.He zoomed in on his own hard-again dick as he lined it up with your sopping hole. You were so wet he slid in effortlessly. You moaned in ecstasy as he finally put out that fire that was burning in you. He didn't hesitate as he started thrusting into you at a merciless pace. The leader couldn't decide if he wanted to focus the camera on the way your cunt swallowed him hole, the outline of his dick protruding through your stomach, your tits as they bounced in unison with his rapid thrusts, or your eyes rolling back in the head of your fucked out face. He zoomed out, capturing the beauty of it all.
"Such a good little fucktoy for me," he admonished. His words brought you closer to the edge as your walls clamped down on his cock.
"Negan 'm gnna," your own moan cut off your nonsensical, fucked babbles.
"So drunk on my cock," he grunted as he filled you with his seed, not waiting for you to reach your own peak. But he didn't have to since you came right after, arching off the bed. He pulled out and zoomed the camera in on your abused cunt. His cum slowly leaked out of your hole and onto the dark bed spread. That was the perfect place to end the video, he decided.
"Hot damn. Were you a porn star before the world went to shit?"
...
not proofread, sorry! thanks for reading! <3
i uploaded this from my phone, so sorry if it's a bit of a mess.
841 notes · View notes
a-leg-without-fear · 19 days
Text
Because of You (pt.1)🩸🌧️
Tumblr media
angst angst angst angst angst this is only angst
Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸
Rating: 16+
Wordcount: 4.3k
Warnings: angst, main character death, violence, blood, cursing, child endangerment, death of children, alcohol abuse, grief, gun violence, a little platonic fluff, depressive thoughts
Series: Because of You
Tumblr media
The coppery scent of blood coated Logan’s entire world in red. Pierced his sinuses and left him reeling, dizzy and nauseous. It dug deep into his chest and made his heart hammer at his adamantium ribs. Thick ichor coated his arms to the elbow, stained his white tank top, dotted along his dark beard.
“L-Logan,” you spluttered, more blood leaking from your parted lips. Your yellow suit-adorned chest was riddled with smoking bullet holes. Blood leaked from the wounds and coated you in a waterfall of crimson. A pained wheeze rattled your throat, “Logan, please.”
“I got you, baby,” he whispered into your sweat-soaked hair. He held you close to his chest, unperturbed by the blood soaking into his clothes. One hand buried in your hair at the base of your neck, the other wrapped around your midsection. 
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fucking fair. When the humans did their attack on the mansion, you were the one to be targeted. Forget the rest of the X-Men, forget the professor, forget Wolverine. You, “Bleeder,” were the one that drew the humans’ ire.
Though you’d abandoned that moniker, and the life it meant, long ago, those fucking cowards targeted you all the same. Chased you through the mansion and shot you ‘till you’d stopped running. By the time Logan had caught up with them and killed every last one, it was too late. You were in a crumpled heap on the ground. Ribs broken, chest and stomach practically swiss fucking cheese, blood coating your entire body.
“Don-Don’t leave me,” you begged through gritted teeth. Blood steadily dripped from between your lips and down your chin. Trembling hands clutched at Logan’s shirt.
He shushed you, pressing a gentle kiss into your hairline, “I won’t. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
Shivers started to overtake your body. Tremors quaking your limbs and making your teeth chatter. Logan squeezed you tighter to his chest, tears pricking at his eyes.
Why? Why the fuck was it you, and not him? He could recover in no time from this, wounds mending themselves and making the bullets cascade from his chest to the floor. The balls of lead killing you would be nothing more than pinpricks to him.
All he could do was watch as life slowly drained from your broken body. Eyes darting between his hazel ones, chin coated in blood, fingers scrabbling at his shirt.
“I’ve got you, doll. I always do, don’t I?” he asked with a brief chuckle. Logan lifted a hand and brushed a stray hair away from your sunken face. It wouldn’t be long now. Before you breathed your last, before you would leave him. Grief tugged at Logan’s stomach.
“Yeah… Always, Lo,” you replied, a small smile stretching at the corners of your lips. Your fingers traced along his jaw, blood stained digits carding through his beard. Logan laced his hand in yours.
“I need you to stay with me. Can you do that?” he implored. Desperation clawed at his heart, anguish crawling up his throat and nearly choking him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles, “Stay with me, vampire.”
“I-I’m trying, Lo,” you said shakily. Another tremble coursed through your frail form. Logan adjusted his grip around your back so your head could rest on his shoulder. He traced soothing circles into the back of your hand.
“I know you are. You’re doing so good, doll,” he breathed, sobs wracking his chest. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks and dripped down onto you. 
A warm hand squeezed Logan’s shoulder. Palm larger than yours, fingers digging into the muscle, “Logan…”
Scott. It was Scott, voice laced with fucking pity. Logan bared his teeth and snarled at him.
“Back the fuck off!” he growled over his shoulder. The intrusive hand disappeared from Logan’s senses. He looked back down at you. Eyelids drooping, blood slowing in its rapid escape of your body, hand curled in his losing its grip.
“I love you,” you mumbled, words slurring into one another. Logan held your palm to his cheek.
“I… I love you too, doll. You stay with me, you hear?” he demanded through gulps of air. He tuned his keen senses in to hear your heartbeat. Slow, uneven, strained as it tried to pump life through you. Logan squeezed his eyes shut.
“Logan…” 
He opened his eyes just as yours started to close. The light behind your usual joyful gaze was snuffed. A final, rattled breath escaped your parted lips as your hand went limp in his. Your head lolled into the crook of his neck.
“Vampire? Hey, stay with me,” Logan begged, gently shaking your unresponsive shoulders. 
The air fell still around him. Usual hums of electrical appliances silenced, crickets chirping just outside ceased in their music, wind battering the windows eased in its barrage. 
Your eyes fell closed for the last time.
Anguish gripped Logan’s chest like never before. Cold, brutal jabs dug into his heart and choked the breath from his lungs. Tear-filled eyes raked across your lifeless body. A strained sob kicked out of Logan’s throat.
He buried his nose in your hair, desperate to fill the rapidly growing hole in his chest with your scent. Desperate to keep some piece of you with him. Desperate to cling to you for just a little longer.
“Logan. She’s gone,” Scott said from behind him. The accursed hand found its way to Logan’s shoulder again. Anger bubbled in his stomach like boiling lava. 
“Don’t say that,” Logan muttered, steam practically pouring from his ears. Your scent filled Logan’s mind. He squeezed you impossibly tighter, tears soaking your hair. You couldn’t be gone. He had you in his arms. You were here. Still warm, still smelling like you. As long as he held you, as long as he was with you, you weren’t gone.
Rage licked up Logan’s body like branding, blazing flames. Those fucking humans. They thought they could take you from him. Thought they could storm into the mansion and kill what’s most important to him. What kept him alive all these fucking years. Swirls of wrath and grief chased each other in his clouded mind.
“C’mon, bud. Let her go.”
Those humans will fucking pay for this. They’re going to pay for covering your scent with blood, for stealing the air from your lungs, for taking you from him. Logan will make sure every single fucking human pays.
For you.
~~~~
Your boots pounded into the blood-soaked grass as you raced over to them. Heart thumping in your ears, breath ragged as it coughed up your throat, clothes torn and bloodied from the fight that’d just ensued. Body after body flew by as you sprinted. Blood pooled in thick puddles in the dry dirt.
“Logan!” you screamed across the clearing. You had to get to him. You needed to.
X24 had Logan’s tank-top gripped in its bloodied fist. Logan’s boots dragged across the grass as his clone hauled him over to a dead tree. Sharp roots pierced the air and dug deep into the mud. Pained grunts fell from Logan’s chapped lips, hands scrabbling at X24’s vice.
Time seemed to slow as the clone hefted Logan’s body into the air. Raising your lover off the ground and above the tree. Dread filled your stomach like a lead ball. 
Logan’s yell of pain echoed around you as a large root stabbed through his abdomen. A wooden spear jutting from his bloodstained tank-top, fresh ichor leaking from the sizable wound.
Fury like you’d never felt flooded your mind like oil in water. Clouding all reason, choking your thoughts and leaving a flaming rage to fuel you. Blood seeped into your eyes as you ran. 
Your consciousness slipped beneath the clone’s form. Tracing his veins and the chemicals powering his actions in a split second. You followed the labyrinth of his body until you reached his brain. Pure, unadulterated hate filled your lungs as you destroyed his hypothalamus. 
The clone remained standing. It shook its head, only swaying slightly, before it reared back and stabbed its claws into Logan’s chest.
“No!” you shouted, feet so fucking close to carrying you to the pair. You could barely breathe. All you were was fury, unbridled rage filling your lungs like black smoke. You focused on the clone again.
Just as you crushed its entire brain with a thought, its head exploded from a gunshot to your left. You glanced over, seeing Laura holding a pistol in her hands, then focused back on Logan as you finally reached him. The clone collapsed, dead, next to your feet.
“Logan,” you said. He groaned beneath you, wide, hazel eyes looking at you in pain. Each grunt that left his mouth gurgled harshly. The red clouding your eyes dissolved as you assessed his situation.
Pale wood protruded from the right side of his ribs, a single spear piercing his abdomen and making spurts of thick blood course from the wound. Numerous stab wounds and bullet holes coated his body. His once white tank-top was quickly becoming red. Logan’s aged face was screwed up in agony, eyes rolled back in his head and shaking hands reaching out to you.
Quick footsteps circled around you until Laura stood on the other side of Logan. Her jean jacket and unicorn t-shirt were just as torn and bloodstained as your own clothes. Quiet mumbles of “no, no, no,” whispered from the desperate frown on her young face.
“Cut the tree,” you instructed as grief bubbled up your throat. You needed to stay strong. If not for Logan’s sake, then for his daughter’s. You swallowed down the tears threatening to overtake your vision.
Both Laura and Logan yelled as she used her claws to cut at the root. You squeezed Logan’s hand in yours.
“Hey, Lo, look at me,” you said, using your free hand to tilt his face towards yours. His brows furrowed as he met your gaze. Another chop, another pained yell. You ran your fingers through his gray beard, “Keep your eyes on me. I’ve got you.”
One last swing of Laura’s claws and the root broke free. Logan squeezed his eyes shut as he grunted. You quickly looped your arms under his shoulders and lowered him to the ground as gently as you could. Rough, agonized groans filled your ear.
Laura gripped at your jacket as sobs wracked her chest. She looked between the root speared through Logan’s midriff and his bloodshot eyes. You set Logan down on the wet grass beneath the dead tree. He looked up at you, clutching at both you and Laura.
“Take the kids, and run,” he breathed through strained gasps. An immediate “no,” came from Laura as she twisted her fists in both your jacket and Logan’s tank-top. He swallowed thickly, “Run. They’ll keep coming and coming.”
“We’re not leaving you,” you replied sternly. You wiped a bead of sweat off his wrinkled brow.
Logan nodded slightly, the action making him screw his eyes shut, then he turned his head to look at his daughter.
“Listen, you don’t have to fight anymore,” he said, taking Laura’s hand in his. She ran her fingers through his gray hair. Logan breathed heavily for a few heavy moments, then whispered, “Don’t be what they made you.”
Sorrow leaked from your eyes as you wrapped an arm around Laura’s shoulder, keeping your other hand against Logan’s chin. Your entire world, your lover and his daughter, clutched in your arms. You blinked your tears away.
“I’ll watch over her, Lo. I swear,” you solemnly promised. Logan’s eyes fell closed, a relieved smile spreading over his chapped lips. You pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, “I’ll take care of her.”
“Laura… Laura,” he muttered like a prayer. His eyes wrinkled in the corners as he looked between you and her. Laura sniffled, cradling Logan’s hand to her chest like a precious treasure.
“Daddy,” she murmured softly. You ran your thumb along Logan’s cheek, smoothing the digit into his leathery skin.
“Go ahead, Lo. You can rest now,” you said, his eyes meeting yours one last time. You gave him a small, reassuring smile, trails of tears streaming down your face. He breathed a rattled sigh. Serene melancholy lingered over the three of you like a dark rain cloud.
Logan’s fading gaze landed back on Laura. Immortal experiments, bonded in both blood and trauma, looking at each other in understanding. In love. His grip on both you and Laura loosened.
“So… So, this is what it feels like,” Logan uttered quietly. 
“No!” Laura cried, clutching his hand bruisingly tight. You pulled her into your side while whispering reassurance into her hair.
Logan’s smile faded, darkening eyes trained on you and Laura, as he breathed his last. Hazel eyes staring blankly at the two things that mattered most.
You choked back a sob as you enveloped Laura in a tight embrace. She cried against your chest, gasps of “daddy, daddy, no,” spilling from her and fueling the despair that slinked up your throat. You did your best to bite back your emotions. This wasn’t about you. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” you said, rocking her back and forth. 
As you glanced back at your lover, his aged face finally relaxed, your promise filled your mind like a budding flower. Laura would never face the challenges you and Logan had. She would never starve, or suffer, or feel alone. She would wake every morning to a loving mother, would spend her days at your side, and would go to sleep knowing she’s loved.
For him.
~~~~
Logan grunted as the toe of his boot caught on a stray branch. His ankle twisted, drunken body falling like a cut tree, and collided with the dew-kissed grass. The green blades dug into his face and tickled his nose. His head swam as he screwed his eyes shut.
Another day gone by. Another night spent drinking his feelings away. Another minute without you.
He’d spent the day at The Last Drop, a greasy bar ten minutes from the mansion. Ass planted in a bar stool, downing shot after whiskey-filled shot, mind drowned under three bottles worth of alcohol. It had taken the owner eight hours to kick Logan out. By that time, the Wolverine was thoroughly shit-faced.
Pathetic.
He was pathetic.
What right did he have to say he was an X-Man? He couldn’t even protect you, the immortal love of his life. He’d let you die in his arms and didn’t do shit about it. Just held you and watched the light in your eyes snuff out.
The anger that’d filled Logan like a raging house fire, making him pledge to avenge you, had dispersed the moment you’d been buried behind the mansion. Cement headstone embedded in the grass where your head would be, an engraving of your face decorating the front along with your name and how long you’d lived. 1905 - 2020. 115 fucking years. And not nearly enough.
Absolute misery had flooded him like a tempest. Swirled and churned in his mind, washing away any cognitive thought, leaving him wrecked like a ship after a hurricane. You were the lighthouse that had guided him through the constant storms battering his mind. Without you, he was lost at sea.
A piercing wail broke Logan from his drunken stupor. Young, feminine, bouncing across the mansion’s expansive yard and cutting through the midnight air. He pushed himself to his knees, head still reeling, as he tried to listen closer.
Another scream. A child, a boy this time, crying out into the night. Logan’s lungs seized behind his adamantium ribs.
He took off in a sprint across the damp grass. Pale moonlight shone from the cloudless sky and bounced off the claws now stretching from between Logan’s knuckles. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest.
Thick, brown boots made deep footprints in the dirt as he raced toward the mansion. More screams echoed ahead of him, urging him on, driving his legs to run faster and faster.
Gunshots.
Fiery pops silencing the screams. One after another after another. Like a landslide of thousands of rocks hitting a tin roof. Flashes of bright lights illuminated the darkened windows. 
It was happening again. The humans had come to the mansion to kill Logan’s people. Mutants, both children and adults, were being slaughtered all because humans couldn’t learn to tolerate those different from them. So emboldened by their piety that they killed anything different from them.
The same had happened the night you’d died. Logan grit his teeth, his jaw clenched as bile burned the back of his throat. Just the brief flash that passed his mind of you held in his arms, dead, was enough to make him swerve in his steps. Stumbling over his own feet in his grief.
“Fuck,” he grunted, catching himself on a tree to his right. The rough bark beneath his palm helped ground him to the present. You were gone. Have been for two years now. Nothing could change the gaping void you’d left in his heart.
Who was he kidding? He was pathetic. Logan could barely muster up the energy to get out of bed and trudge to the bar, let alone save the mutants in the mansion. All he’d do was make things worse. That’s all he was good for.
Logan’s back collided with the tree. A thunk rattled his foggy mind as he rolled his head back on the bark. The memory of you cradled in his arms drowned out the gunfire and screams. Your rattled gasps, the fear in your wide eyes, how you gripped at his shirt like he had the power to keep you alive. Like he was worth something.
In the drunken haze of his mind, Logan landed on the thought that had swirled consistently ever since you’d died.
He wasn’t worth shit.
~~~~
It was eight years after Logan died. 
After you’d made sure Transigen was thoroughly redirected from Laura and the rest of the children, you’d decided to settle down. Bought some land in Vancouver and started a farm. A small farmhouse, white wood with gray details, filled to the brim with mutant children and various knick-knacks you’d gathered over the years, sitting in the middle of a few acres of grass fields and dirt paths.
You did your best to give the children a good childhood. Taught them the way Charles had taught you, gave them unwavering support, made sure they were always fed and loved. The kids would spend their days in the classroom to learn everyday skills, would work in the barn and in the fields to take care of the flock of sheep, then would train in the evenings to harness their abilities. 
A worthy successor to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters if ever there was one.
The setting sun cast streams of golden light across the yellow grass field. Soft breezes created ripples and waves. The occasional call of a bird in the surrounding green forest, chirping cicadas creating an underlying tone beneath the serene sounds of nature. A gentle waft of baking bread floated from inside the farmhouse and across where you sat on the sheltered porch. Utterly tranquil.
“Goddammit, Haymish!” Laura shouted from inside the red-wood barn. You smirked, pushing yourself to your feet from your rocking chair. Heavy work boots thumped along the porch as you descended the front stairs.
Frantic scrambling came from the open barn doors. Tracks of strewn hay scattered across the dirt ground feathered out from the opening. Typical barn smells covered the baking bread that had surrounded you like a warm halo.
Your shoulder leaned on the doorway, arms folding across your flannel-adorned chest, as you observed the scene in front of you.
Laura, dark hair pulled in a frizzy bun and clothes muddy, was attempting to wrangle a rather upset looking sheep. Strings of curses flew from her deep frown. The woolen animal, named Haymish by Chloe, was struggling against Laura’s arms.
“Need any help?” you called to her, a smirk spreading across your lips. Seeing Logan’s daughter frustrated only reminded you of how similar they were. Easy to anger, violent, softies on the inside. You loved them both more than you could ever express.
“Puta madre, no. I’ve almost got him,” she grunted in response. With one last shove, the sheep was corralled into where you kept the younger sheep. A smaller stable, the floor lined with a thick layer of hay and plentiful troughs filled with water and food hung on the wooden walls. Laura held the ten miffed sheep back as she latched the metal gate shut.
“How’s Ray Toro doing?” you asked, watching as your daughter worked. Laura heaved a bucket full of water over the waist-high wall and dumped the contents over the top. The sheep funneled away from the gate and over to the trough.
“The infection on his ear has gone down,” she said as she set the empty bucket on the ground. A calloused hand ran over her sweat-slick forehead. You pulled the clean rag you always kept in your back pocket free, holding it out to her.
“Here, kid,” you offered with a grin. She took the rag with a quiet “thank you.” Your eyes trailed along the metal gates of the other stables. Each doorway had a plaque nailed to the side with the sheep’s names. Q-Tip, Bartholomew, Edward, Tina, Baxter, Phillis, Brick, Christoph, Harold, Marino, Charles, Woolverine, Buttercup, Woolie, Doug, Gordon Ram-say, Meryl Sheep, Wooly Wonka, and Gerald were written in scrawled marker on the plaque next to the adult sheep’s pens. All names chosen by the kids you’ve been raising.
“Is Amanda cooking tonight?” Laura asked while slinging the rag over her shoulder. You hummed in response.
“Yup. Bread bowls and soup,” you replied. A relieved sigh came from your exhausted daughter. You laughed, shaking your head, “Go wash up. Sam’ll take over for you.”
“Thanks, mama,” she said as she approached the door. You took the damp rag from her hand and tucked it back in your pocket as you walked, together, to the farmhouse. 
Light conversation flowed between the two of you. Out of all of the kids in your care, Laura was your favorite. You’d known her the longest, having met her in Mexico and traveled across the country with her and Logan, and she reminded you of him every day. Her smile that dug dimples into her cheeks, her heavy brows that cast shadows over her hazel eyes, her dark hair that almost always ended up messy. She was the spitting image of Logan.
Laura stooped to grab her backpack off the front steps. Made from green cloth and weathered around the edges, it was the same bag she’d carried all those years ago. Seeing it slung over her shoulders pumped a wave of nostalgia through your chest. You placed a hand on her jean vest-clad shoulders. Her eyes met yours, crinkled at the edges from an easy smile, and pure adoration flooded your chest.
“I love you, kid,” you breathed, tears pricking at the edges of your eyes. Her smile widened, pointed teeth peeking out from beneath full lips, as she enveloped your waist in her thick arms. You buried your face in her hair as your arms wrapped around her shoulders.
“Love you too, mama,” she mumbled against your chest. 
The two of you remained like that for a while. Laura’s head tucked under your chin, rocking slowly, hums occasionally buzzing your lips. A little ritual the two of you shared. Every night, when the two of you found time and were alone, you’d hold each other and let your affection pour into one another. You’d both been through so much. In the time you’ve known each other and before you’d met. Solace from the stresses of your lives was found in each other’s arms.
A strange sound behind you broke the comforting silence. Electric, alien, like a quick whoop in the evening air. You immediately spun on your heel, pushing Laura behind you, as you confronted the noise.
Intruders.
Men and women, clad in thick body armor and wielding batons, stepped through a handful of glowing, orange doorways. About a dozen armed intruders. Anger gripped your throat in a tight vice.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? This is my home. These are my kids. You think you can just barge in unannounced?” you shouted to the group.
One of the men towards the front, with darker skin and a deep scowl etched across his face, stepped forward. The tip of the baton clutched in his hand extended and glowed orange. He shouted your full name, then Laura’s.
“You both are sentenced to The Void due to a probability of resistance in your timeline’s decay. You will come quietly, without altercation, or we will be forced to retaliate.”
A sharp growl rumbled from Laura’s throat. Her claws shot out of her fists with a snikt. Your eyes flooded red as blood clouded your vision.
“Leave. Now,” Laura roared through bared teeth. Your consciousness slipped beneath the skin of the intruders. You traced the millions of veins snaking under their skin, following pumping blood and flowing chemicals as they coursed through them. 
“Last chance. Comply, or we will use force,” the man commanded again. A cacophony of electric hums echoed around him as the rest of the group’s batons extended and started to glow.
“No fucking way,” you said, finally reaching the frontal lobe of most of the group. With a flick of your fingers, half of the group’s brains were squashed inside their skulls, making them crumple to the grass. Blood pooled from their bodies and seeped into the dirt.
Just as Laura raced in front of you, claws brandished and furious shouts bellowing from her chest, you heard the same whoop behind you. A sharp sting met your back before you could react. You cried out, back arching, as the world around you faded to black.
Tumblr media
first part in a new series!!! hope y'all like :)
222 notes · View notes
cera-writes · 4 months
Note
How about Nightcrawler falling for Remy's honorary sibling?
Moonlight Sonata
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Tags: fluff, humor, flirting, baking, slight competition, developing feelings
Tumblr media
The scent of fresh pastries mingled in the air, a peculiar scent that had become strangely comforting to Kurt Wagner.
He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you knead dough with surprising finesse for someone who could lift a priceless artifact from a guarded vault without breaking a sweat. You hadn't even noticed him yet. You were in your own little world it seemed.
Gambit, ever the charmer, had introduced you to the X-Men as a "distant cousin" from New Orleans with a knack for "acquiring rare finds." Professor X, ever the pragmatist, saw the potential in your unique ability to manipulate probability, making you an invaluable asset for training the team. But over time, Kurt had discovered you were more than just a valuable asset.
You possessed a dry wit that rivaled Logan's, a fierce protectiveness that mirrored Ororo's, and a surprising talent for pastry. Your μπεκλαβές (mezeklaves), a flaky Greek cheese pie, had become a favorite amongst the X-Men, even the health-conscious ones (though they wouldn't admit it).
Tonight, however, the kitchen was empty except for you. Kurt, ever the teleporter with a conscience, decided to make his presence known with a gentle, "Guten Abend."
You whirled around, a dusting of flour on your cheek, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Kurt! Ya scared the bejeezus outta me." Your voice was laced with an accent similar to Gambit's, which Kurt found endearing.
Kurt chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from the shadows themselves. "Apologies, Meine Freund. I did not mean to startle you." He bamfed beside you, the brimstone scent that clung to him momentarily overwhelmed by the aroma of butter and sugar.
"No harm done," you said, patting some flour off your apron. "Just surprised to see you here. Thought you preferred the… darker corners."
"There is a certain charm to moonlight," Kurt admitted, "but the company is even more delightful."
Your smile faltered slightly, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. "Are you… complimentin' me, fuzzy elf?"
"Only stating a fact," Kurt replied, his own blue fur dusting a faint pink. "You bring a certain… warmth to the kitchen. A welcome change from the usual… chaos."
Your smile returned, wider this time. "Well, someone has to keep Remy in line," you said, a playful jab at your honorary brother. "Though between you and me, I'm the better cook. Jus' don't tell him that."
Their conversation flowed easily, filled with shared stories and laughter. As the night deepened, Kurt found himself lingering longer, captivated by the way your mischievous glint sort of mirrored Remy's in your eyes. When you finally stretched, a hint of weariness in your movements, Kurt surprised himself by blurting out, "Perhaps you would… care to join me for a walk… under the actual moonlight, I mean."
You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just the moonlight, huh, Kurt? No shadows, no surprise teleports to some forgotten realm?"
Kurt felt a familiar warmth creep up his neck. "Only… pleasant company, my friend. I assure you."
You considered him for a moment, then a slow smile spread across your face. "Alright, Kurt. But if you try anythin', I won't hesitate to manipulate the odds and send you tumblin' into a vat of flour."
A teasing glint flickered in your eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but grin back. "A vat of flour, you say? Sounds like a messy proposition. Perhaps a stroll on the balcony would be a safer choice?" He gestured towards the large glass doors leading outside, moonlight already casting an ethereal glow on the patio furniture.
You dusted a stray bit of flour off your shoulder, your gaze lingering on him for a beat longer than necessary. "Maybe you're right, fuzzy elf. Sides, I wouldn't want to risk ruinin' these." You gestured towards a fragrant pan of pastries cooling on the counter. "Remy's been braggin' about my skills to Stormy all week. Gotta keep up appearances, right?"
Kurt chuckled, a warmth blooming in his chest. "Storm wouldn't dare challenge your culinary prowess, even with Remy vouching for her. But perhaps I could offer a different kind of challenge on our walk?"
You quirked an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your voice. "Oh yeah? And what kind of challenge might that be, Nightcrawler?"
Kurt leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How about a test of your probability manipulation skills? We could see who can find the most… interesting object under the moonlight."
A slow smile spread across your face, the mischievous glint in your eyes mirroring his own. "Now that's a challenge I can get behind. Just don't come cryin' to me if you end up teleporting into the Danger Room by accident."
Kurt threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. "Never underestimate Kurt Wagner, Schatz. Let's just say, I have a certain… affinity for finding unexpected things."
With a playful wink, you grabbed a clean dish towel and wiped your hands. "Alright then, furball. Lead the way. But be warned, I have a knack for finding trouble… and sometimes, trouble finds me."
Kurt offered you his arm, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Then perhaps tonight, trouble will find something delightful instead."
Together, you stepped out onto the moonlit balcony, the promise of a playful competition and a blossoming connection hanging heavy in the cool night air.
318 notes · View notes