#tomato growing mistakes

[greenpvnk]

So despite growing tomatoes yearly since about 2018 or so, I’ve clearly done a beginners mistake in the form of overwatering my plants.

Pretty much all of my plants are showing these signs but Especially this Neapolitan variety of Piennolo seems to be very sensitive to too much water.

Don’t do what I did, unless it’s crazy high temperatures or super dry conditions you probably shouldn’t water your tomatoes daily or even bi-daily this early on in the season.

[ariadne-mouse]

I feel fandom would get along a lot better if there was mutual understanding that liking a character, agreeing with a character, and thinking the character is well constructed/executed are all separate (if often overlapping) positions, each with their separate tastes and subjectivities. Also: character portrayals are intended to make the audience feel things; this is separate from (if often overlapping with) analyzing/appreciating their actions and role in the story.

[tomorrowsgardennc]

this is my first year growing tomatoes for seed selling production.

last year i saved tomato seeds, but more as a test.

i made one mistake this year that i didn't think of my first year.

i didn't grow enough for me to eat some 😭😭😭

[rotationalsymmetry]

My peas: not dying but not really growing much either. Hmm.

[ouroboobos]

do any of you garden by chance... ive been wanting to grow vegetables for 10,000 years and i could use some beginner book recs if anyone has any <3 ik theres tons of videos and articles online but theres a lot of conflicting info that i dont really know how to navigate yet

[bobluvbot]

late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it)  wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach  a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part. 

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. 

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort. 

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement. 

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts. 

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world. 

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall. 

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better. 

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did. 

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft. 

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier. 

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it. 

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare. 

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa? 

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal. 

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope. 

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response. 

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell? 

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy. 

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread. 

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back. 

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm. 

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man. 

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him. 

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach. 

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?” 

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.” 

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind. 

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck. 

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence. 

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.” 

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin. 

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought. 

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?” 

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[cherrylovelycherry]

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your writing, I spent hours binge reading without even noticing! I also love how creative your "menu" is. I wanted to ask if you take requests? If so, could I request a Boothill x Fem reader souffle? It can be any kind of plot or without plot at all. I just really like your writing and would like to see one of Boothill. Thank you so much for your time -anon

.note. hihi anon! aww it's nice that you like my writing, thanks! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) this took me a while, uni is being hard on me. sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language. anyway, i'm kicking my feet as i write this. i have the hc that boothill is sweet and gentle when it comes to intimacy, the complete opposite of his appearance, so yeah. hope you like it! ദ്ദി (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)~✧

𓂅new order. "soufflé and a éclair au chocolat."

You know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboy!

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. nsfw, fluff, cunnilingus, blowjob, some praise kink, first time, mdni synopsis. you ended up fucking a cowboy full menu

You're were with Boothill this afternoon, as he was willing to give you lessons on horse riding after he realised how incredibly inexperienced you were.

You were lucky he taught you, though you assumed it would be his way of repaying the favors you did him, fixing and improving his robotic body countless times.

The countryside is just outside of the busy city, so, as somone who lived in the city, being with Boothill in the countryside was very different.

After an hour or two, you started to grow tired and Boothill noticed it. He offered for you to come to his house, or so you thought, since that was where he was staying for a while, instead of walking all the way back home in such a tired state. You nodded, exhuasted, just wanting to lay your head on a pillow.

As Boothill walks with you check your phone, and there's a message from your roommate asking where you were. You quickly text that you're staying at Boothill's for the night.

Another message appears, and when you open it, it says;

"You're staying with Boothill for the night?? OMG, you know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboyyy!"

You felt the heat rise to your face almost instantly as you read the message. Which caused curiosity in him, approaching where you were.

"Hey, you ok? You're turning red, darlin'."

As if trying to see what the message was about, you moved your head to the side. Which ended up being for the fun of it as you quickly put your phone away.

The evening sun was already peeking out, being chased by the darkness of the night.

With somewhat quick steps, it managed to set before you, curiosity etched across his features, Boothill reached out to touch your cheek. "Seriously, you look like a ripe tomato. Did somethin' happen?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his fingers slowly touched your cheek. You took a shaky breath as his hand continued to touch your face.

You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I'm fine, just tired. That's all," you said quietly, trying to sound convincing.

The feeling of his hand on your skin sent chills down your spine, reminding you of the message your roommate sent.

You let go of his grip, as you both continued walking.

Was it possible that…he was thinking the same thing?

You shook your head slightly at the thought.

"Just my stupid roommate making a dumb joke." You tried to laugh it off, but even you could hear how forced it sounded.

Boothill continued to watch you intently, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Darlin', I can tell when you're lyin'. You're makin' it kinda obvious," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Hah, right, whatever you say." You scratched your cheek with your hand, hurrying your pace.

He merely laughed lightly at your response.

You both walked towards where Boothill was staying, it was a somewhat remote house, but it was in the city.

The house was somewhat large, the owner of which was a grandmother, who Boothill had once saved. She was extremely sweet to let him stay there if he needed it.

As you arrived at the house, you noticed how the sky had darkened even more, the stars slowly appearing as the night settled in.

As you both reached the house, Boothill unlocked the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped back to let you walk in first.

With a muttered "thank you", you entered the house. It was cozy and comfortable, a warm place that seemed to radiate with a hint of nostalgia.

Boothill closed the door behind him and led you into the living room.

"Make yourself at home darlin' I'll go and let her know I've brought you with me," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

You took a seat on the couch in the living room, and as soon as your butt met the cushion, you felt your phone vibrate.

Another message… probably from your roommate.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and quickly unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sure enough, it was another message from your roommate, still riding the horse/cowboy joke.

This time, she sent a gif of a cowboy riding a horse, with the message; "Yee-haw! Ride that cowboy, babe! 😉"

You couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. And even some amusement at the gif she sent. Your roommate was way too invested in your supposed "crush" on Boothill.

You groaned inwardly Great. It was never going to end. Your roommate was going to make this into a running joke for months, maybe even until the end of time.

Your irritation was interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Boothill appeared a moment later, walking back into the living room. He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, still maintaining a respectable distance from you.

"She's just glad I'm finally bringin' someone here," he chuckled, referring to the house's owner.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes still fixed on your form. There was a small smile on his face.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at his words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she's had to deal with your antics for a while now," you quipped, trying to sound lighthearted.

Boothill let out a mocking gasp, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? Are you implyin' that I'm a troublesome guest? Me? A perfect gentleman?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman," you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He feigned an expression of innocence.

"I'll have you know, I am a model guest. I make sure to clean up after myself, respect the property, and always ask for permission before snackin' on somethin'."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to defend himself.

"Right, because asking for permission to raid the fridge is the epitome of good manners," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And let's not forget the time you accidentally broke a vase and tried to mend it with duct tape."

He fakely frowned a little.

"Hey, I still stand by that duct tape solution. It looked pretty darn good once I was done with it," he chuckled, a hint of guilt in his voice.

You shook your head, still amused.

"You're lucky the house's owner has a soft spot for you. Otherwise she wouldn't let you stay here any longer."

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"What can I say? I'm irresistibly charmin'."

He stretched lazily, his metal arms extending with a soft whir.

"But seriously, she knows I ain't cause no real trouble. And besides, I keep the spiders away for her," he added with a wink.

You snickered. "Ah, yes, the dutiful bodyguard against the eight-legged critters. She must be so thankful for your bravery."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You laugh now, but when you have a spider the size of your hand crawlin' up your leg, you'll be beggin' for my services," he teased.

"Please, like I'd ever let it come to that," you retorted. "I'd fight that spider off with a rolled-up newspaper if I had to."

He chuckled again. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second darlin'. You ain't afraid of much, are you?"

The lighthearted atmosphere was refreshing, and you found yourself enjoying the exchange.

"Heh, I guess not."

You put a lock of your hair behind your ear, while Boothill turned on the medium-sized television in the room. The fireplace made the cold outside not felt at all.

The soft glow of the television filled the room, casting shadows on the walls.

Boothill grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch.

"Anythin' ya want to watch?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a moment before answering.

"How about a cowboy movie?" you suggested, a teasing tone in your voice.

"Hah! A good one then."

As you glanced at Boothill, you noticed the way the light reflected in his eyes, their artificial luminescence dancing with the flicker of the screen.

"You hungry? I can whip somethin' up for ya in the kitchen," he offered, his voice still carrying a hint of humor.

You considered his offer.

"Nah, I'm alright," you replied, your attention half-focused on the TV.

The more time passed, the more interesting the movie became. You both let out one or another comment about this. Until you and him were silent.

He leaned back against the couch, his metal arm resting along the back. Despite his mechanical parts, he still managed to exude a sense of comfortable familiarity.

His gaze flicked away from the television, locking onto yours.

"You okay, darlin'? You're a little quieter than usual."

You were caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his perceptive question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered, a little too quickly. Lie, you were falling asleep.

The truth was, you were fighting the urge to yawn.

"I'm just a lil tired ," you added, trying to sound nonchalant. Another lie, your whole body hurt from the physical exercise you were doing earlier in the field with Boothill.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"Uh-huh, 'a little tired,' ya say," he said, clearly not buying your act.

He leaned forward a bit, studying your face.

"Your eyes are heavy, and you're yawnin' more than a kitten."

He thought for a second before placing a cushion from the couch, which they were sitting on, over his legs.

"Here." He said, patting the cushion a few times, so you could lay your head there.

"Are you calling me a tired kitten?" you protested, unable to stop a small yawn from escaping your lips as you spoke, proving his point.

Your eyes widened slightly as he patted the cushion on his lap, offering it to you like some kind of makeshift pillow.

Your heart skipped a beat, the situation feeling suddenly more intimate.

But your body yearned for rest, your tired muscles calling out for a moment of peace.

He smirked, clearly amused by your tired protest.

"I dunno, if the shoe fits…" he joked, his gaze still fixed on you.

As you hesitated, hesitating to accept the offer, your tired body won out over your embarrassment.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly leaned down, resting your head on the pillow of the cushion, now laying across his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt the firm but gentle support of his thighs beneath you.

He chuckled softly as he noticed your hesitation, but allowed you to lean down and rest your head on his lap.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmured as you settled into the makeshift pillow.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Boothill remained silent for a moment, observing your tired state.

"Comfy?" he asked finally, his voice a low rumble.

"Mhm." You let out an affirmation towards his words.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at your eyelids.

The sound of the movie in the background faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For a moment, there was a silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Instead, it felt soothing.

He watched you closely as you let your guard down, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

With each breath you took, your body seemed to relax further, almost melting into his lap.

Boothill's metal fingers gently traced the outline of your hair, almost on instinct, as if seeking to provide some kind of comfort.

A soft, almost silent chuckle passed his lips as he noticed your tired state.

You felt your body relax as tension drained from your muscles, the weight of the day's physicality finally catching up to you.

Boothill seemed content to remain silent, allowing you to rest in comfortable respite.

Your mind started to wander, thoughts blending together seamlessly. You felt strangely at peace in this position - head resting on his lap, his metal fingers brushing against your hair, the sounds of the movie like a distant hum.

You felt utterly at ease, your tired body finally getting the rest it desperately craved.

Boothill's presence was both comforting and grounding, his touch a constant reminder of his attentiveness towards you.

Your thoughts gradually faded into weary tiredness, your mind struggling to stay awake longer.

You found yourself drifting on the edge of sleep.

He continued idly running his metal fingers through your hair, a soothing rhythm that seemed almost designed to lull you deeper into relaxation.

As your breathing slowed, growing more rhythmic and steady, he could tell that you were moments away from drifting off to sleep.

His eyes never left your face, taking in your relaxed expression and the soft curves of your features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing you at peace, especially after a long day.

You felt his fingers running through your hair once more before you fell completely asleep.

Your mind slowly slipped away from consciousness, and the world around you faded into a drowsy haze.

You don't know how much time passed, but you slowly opened your eyes, keeping them half-lidded.

You weren't touching the couch and you felt like they were grabbing you.

Oh, you were being carried.

Keeping your eyes the same way, you looked up, watching as he was carrying you up the stairs.

You felt like in those princess stories in which the prince carefully carries the princess.

As he carried you up the stairs, his grip firm and gentle around you, he took note of your half-lidded eyes slowly fluttering open.

He chuckled softly as he caught your gaze, realizing you were half-awake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He continued up the stairs, navigating carefully to not accidentally hit your head or anything else.

"Go back to sleep, dear"

He was taking you to a spare room so that you could sleep more comfortably.

Even in your semi-asleep state, you heard the soft rumble of his voice, the sound soothing your tired mind.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you heard him call you "sleepyhead." It was a nickname you hadn't heard from him before.

He carried you gently upstairs, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the silence of the house. You kept your eyes half-open, still disoriented and groggy.

"Mmph…" you managed to mumble in response, your drowsy brain struggling to form coherent words.

He chuckled at your sleepy attempt at a response, finding your disoriented state endlessly endearing.

"Shhh," he whispered, his metal fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You're barely awake, darlin'. Just go back to sleep, we're almost in the guest room."

The soft hallway lights cast long shadows ahead of him, dancing softly against the walls as he continued on.

Finally reaching the spare room, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you like he was handling a delicate artifact.

As you were gently lowered onto the bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, your body automatically snuggled into their embrace.

A small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your tired muscles sink against the mattress.

The cool sheets felt soothing against your skin as you slowly settled into the bed, still in a half-asleep state.

You felt his touch once more as he carefully adjusted the blankets, ensuring you were tucked in properly.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing.

As you were laid on the soft mattress, the blankets wrapping around you like a cosy cocoon, you felt the exhaustion fully taking over again.

Your tired mind was too drowsy to think clearly, your eyelids feeling heavy once more.

You vaguely registered his movements around you as he seemed to be adjusting something near the bed.

"…Boothill?" you mumbled his name, your voice still thick with sleepiness.

He paused, looking down at you with a hint of surprise at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, darlin'?" he replied quietly, his voice a gentle rumble.

He finished adjusting the blanket, ensuring you were completely covered and tucked in.

He then leaned closer to the bed, his eyes studying your sleepy face for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You need somethin', or are you just makin' sure I'm still here?" he teased gently.

Your sleepy brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, the drowsiness making it difficult to string words together.

"Mmph… jus' makin' sure…" you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

You felt strangely vulnerable in this half-asleep state, the tiredness leaving you without the usual guard you had up.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustling of the blankets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

You could feel his presence close to the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.

Literally the idea of what you were going to try to say left you. So you frowned, keeping your eyes closed.

Until you managed to remember something, "The girl who is with you will be…very, veeery luckyy,"

He raised an eyebrow at your drowsy mumble, his grin widening slightly.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice soft and amused.

When you mentioned the hypothetical luck of his future girlfriend, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly. "You're still dreamin', darlin'."

He reached out, his metal fingertips lightly running through your hair once more, a soothing gesture.

He stood silently nearby, watching you as you fought against the fog of sleep.

As you mumbled something about the girl he might date, his expression softened even further. He couldn't help but find your sleepy ramblings both amusing and endearing.

You hummed with pleasure as you felt his metal fingertips gently run through your hair once more, the sensation sending a soothing wave through your tired body.

Your eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and yet some part of your tired mind stubbornly held on to consciousness.

"Mm…not dreamin'…jus' sayin'…" you protested, your words slurring together slightly.

Your mouth attempted to form more words, but fatigue weighed heavily on your tongue, making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Lucky…" you mumbled once more, the word sounding more like a sigh than anything else.

He chuckled softly beside you, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"…Darlin', you're not exactly makin' sense," he teased, his tone warm and affectionate.

He continued to run his mechanical fingers through your hair, the soothing motion seemed to melt away any tension still lingering in your body.

As you mumbled about luck and being lucky, he chuckled again, the sound low and gentle.

Your words came out alone, almost like a yawn that couldn't be stopped. "C'mere…" You said, as you looked at him, you opened your eyes a little this time.

His hand paused in your hair, caught off guard by your request.

He looked at you, your half-open eyes peering up at him through the haze of sleep.

A mix of surprise and amusement played across his face. "You want me to come closer?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to decipher your sleepy request, before moving closer to the bed.

“Mhm,” You blurted out, affirming his words.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your half-open eyes and the sleepy smile on your lips.

"You're a bossy little thing, even when you're half-asleep," he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

He leaned over slightly, his metal hand still resting on your hair, gently smoothing out the messy strands.

By the time he got close enough, your body acted on its own.

"Lucky.." You murmured as you grabbed his face with both hands and placed your lips on top of his, quickly but softly.

Caught off guard by your unexpected move, his eyes widened slightly when he felt the softness of your lips against his. For a moment, he froze, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

But it didn't take long for him to respond. His hand on your hair slid down to your cheek, the coolness of his metal fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

He returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted his cybernetic appearance.

After a few seconds, he pulled away slightly, "Darlin', you're gonna be the death of me…" he murmured

As you felt his response, his cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your tired mind was still in a sleepy haze, but the kiss seemed to awaken a different kind of energy within you. You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, your eyes still half-lidded.

“You’re a little too cheeky when you’re sleepy," he admonished, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're gonna give a cowboy a heart attack."

It was a nice way to put it since he physically had no heart.

His eyes tracing the curve of your smile on your lips. Your tiredness seemed to fuel a playful energy within you, making you even more endearing in his eyes.

He shifted his position slightly, his body now facing you fully, one knee on the bed. His metal hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he leaned in slightly.

"And here I am, trying to be all gentlemanly and let you get some sleep," he teased, his voice low and full of mock reproach.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the drowsy state making you even more cheeky than usual. Besides, despite being tired, your consciousness was more exact. You were leaving the state of drowsiness.

"Gentlemanly, huh?" you mumbled, your words still slightly slurred by sleepiness.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, leaning towards him as much as your tired body would allow. "That's cute," You commented, your other hand reaching out to touch his chest.

You chuckled softly, "Besides, whose fault is it for being so irresistibly kissable?" you retorted.

You liked to see how his face turned slightly red, being visible only by the night light that came through the window.

You were enjoying the unexpected turn of events, the boundaries between friendship and something else starting to blur.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, the compliment catching him off guard.

He watched intently as you leaned forward, your touch against his chest igniting a spark under his metal skin.

Thanks to you, who had been able to connect and 'create' new nerves that would be connected to his robotic parts, managing to have at least a slight sensation of touch in his body.

His eyes flicked down to your hand before returning to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite hide.

Your words had found their mark, and he couldn't deny the reaction they provoked. Despite his usual confidence, there was something about your sleepy flirtations that had him uncharacteristically flustered.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but a hint of a blush betrayed his reaction.

He leaned in closer, his body nearly hovering over yours as you leaned up on your elbow. His metal hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Your senses seemed hyper-aware in this exhausted state, and the feeling of his metal fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The way he loomed over you, his body hovering just above yours, made your heartbeat quicken. There was a sudden tension in the air, a subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship.

You looked up at him, your eyes no longer had that flash of tiredness.

He could see the change in your eyes, the drowsiness slowly giving way to a sharper focus. A silent understanding seemed to pass between you both; the tiredness had faded, replaced by a different kind of awareness.

He leaned in even closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed desire, studying your features as if seeing you in a new light.

The air thick with an unspoken tension. Your skin tingled where his metal fingers touched your neck, a mix of cool certainty and unexpected delicacy.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice lower than usual, hinting at the effect you were having on him.

His fingers continued their gentle dance along the back of your neck. He seemed to be wrestling with something, caught between his customary charm and the unfamiliar surge of vulnerability.

Your lips parted slightly, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

His eyes were searching yours, studying every detail as if trying to memorize each inch of your face. His gaze remained fixed on you, watching how your eyes responded to his closeness.

But, oh, he was holding back, there was an evident hunger within him.

A hunger he never thought he wanted, specifically from you.

He saw your reaction, the slight intake of breath, the way your lips parted slightly.

His mind was hazy with a million thoughts, all centered on you and how much he wanted to close the remaining space between you.

His metal fingers moved up from your neck, tracing a path along your jawline before gently brushing against your bottom lip.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched slightly at his touch, the feeling of his metal fingers on your lip setting your nerves alight.

His voice was soft but laced with a barely restrained intensity. He was struggling with his own desires, trying to hold back but also aching for more.

You hesitated for a moment, caught between wanting to give in to the budding intimacy and fearing the consequences.

Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for any hint of insecurity or doubt. But the desire in his eyes made it clear that this was not a whim or a passing fancy for him.

"But I don't want you to stop," You responded also quietly. Your eyes left his for a moment, looking down at his lips.

Your words were like music to his ears, banishing the last remnants of his hesitation.

His breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted to his lips, the silent desire in your gaze mirroring his own.

His hand shifted, moving to cradle your face, his thumb resting just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

And, with just a nod from you, he couldn't help it anymore.

Being careful not to hurt you, he somewhat carelessly brought his lips to yours, pressing them with need.

Your confirmation was all he needed.

The moment your heads met, there was an explosion of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist, drawing you closer to him. His body pressed against yours, the coolness of his metal chest contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

His tongue eagerly explored your lips, seeking access to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for more of you.

There was a certain urgency in his actions, a hunger you could practically taste in the way he held you, the way his tongue moved against yours.

As his tongue sought entry into your mouth, you didn't hesitate to respond in kind.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel more of him against you.

His hands roamed restlessly over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin through your clothes. He needed to feel every part of you, as if the physical contact could quench the hunger burning within him.

The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. His cool metal fingers gripped your waist, holding you tightly as he pressed you further into the mattress.

His tongue danced with yours, a silent battle for control, each movement charged with raw desire. There was a hint of something wild in his demeanor, the usually controlled cowboy succumbing to his most primal instincts.

He groaned softly into the kiss as your hands tangled in his hair, the feeling both pleasurable and arousing.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands explored your body, tracing the contour of your curves, the cool metal of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles along your sensitive skin.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your neck, his voice hoarse with desire.

A gasp escaped your lips as he moved from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in your core, his words and actions igniting a fire within you.

Your fingers gently tugged at his hair, a silent signal urging him on. A soft moan escaped from your throat as he bit down lightly on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You have… no idea," you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating along your sensitive skin.

Your gasps and slight moans only fueled his desire, the sound of your voice shivering with need causing a shiver to run down his system.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, as if mapping out a territory he now desperately wished to claim as his own.

He smirked slightly against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that were slowly moving down to your collarbone.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he retorted, his voice carrying a low, sultry tone.

His hands moved lower, resting on your hips, gently guiding your body against his.

His smirk against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of your desire growing with each passing moment.

His hands roaming over your body and his lips tracing a path down your collarbone added fuel to the flame.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as he continued his assault on your skin.

"Boothill…" you whispered, his name sounding like a prayer tumbling off your lips.

Your whispered plea, his name falling from your lips like a litany, sent a shock through his system.

He paused his ministrations for a moment, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your cheeks flushed, and your hair slightly disheveled. You looked utterly captivating in that moment, your desire for him written all over your face.

His hands left your body, this time heading to your shirt.

I was about to roll it up until his brain made him stop for a moment.

"Do you want…to do it?" He dared to ask you, seeking your consent. His eyes boring into yours gently.

You met his eyes, seeing the mixture of desire and restraint in his gaze.

Your breath still slightly ragged, you nodded slowly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."

As he pulled your shirt off, his hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, partially undressed before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

His words, a simple compliment carrying more weight than usual, caused your heart to skip a beat.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in every detail as if you were a masterpiece hanging in a gallery.

The way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

His eyes were fixed on you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Finding your bra very annoying.

The combination of his touch, his kisses, and his words made you feel like you were slowly unraveling.

His mouth trailing along your skin was driving you insane with need and desire.

His lips trailed down your neck and down your chest until they reached the barrier of your bra. He paused for a moment, his hands gently tracing the edge.

"Can I?" he asked quietly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric.

The way he was handling you, with a mixture of reverence and desire, made you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips returned to your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as he waited for your response.

As his fingertips traced the edge of your bra, your heart pounded in anticipation, your body aching for more of his touch.

His request, whispered in a soft, hoarse voice, set your nerves on fire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes,"

He didn't need further coaxing. His hands quickly unclasped your bra, freeing your chest from its confinement.

His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses down your newly bared skin. He seemed to savor every inch of you, as if unable to get enough.

The feeling of his lips on your bare skin was nothing short of maddening.

His hands, now free from the barrier of your bra, roamed freely over your torso, as if he were mapping a new territory.

His hands instinctively went to your breasts, massaging them slowly and gently, touching the tips of your breasts. Causing you to flinch at the coolness of his fingers.

Without further ado, his mouth moved to one of your breasts, his other hand touching the other.

He sucked and nibbled gently, drawing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth on your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his tongue flicked against one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, your fingers clenching tightly as he continued his ministrations.

You gasped, arching your back towards him, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if trying to memorize every contour.

His fingers traced circles over your hip bone, then moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

This time he didn't ask, he raised his head and looked at you, with those eyes full of pleading.

Oh, that look you never thought you'd see in him.

The look in his eyes was one you never thought you'd notice coming from him.

It was a silent plea, a silent "Let me take care of you."

Hearing your gasps and slight moans, he wondered why it had taken him so long to cross this line with you.

You could feel the desire growing inside you, a burning need for more contact, more of him.

You raised your hips, silently giving him permission to remove your pants, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Slowly, he slid your pants down along with underwear in one go, his hands skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your exposed body.

He ran his hands gently down your thighs.

Now you were completely naked in front of him, your body on display, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you in all your glory.

In his eyes you were the most perfect thing that could exist, a goddess, an angel come down from the heavens.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips against your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses. Then, he pressed light kisses on your legs, moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

Your body was aflame with desire, every touch of his sending your senses into overdrive.

Your legs opened slightly, inviting him closer, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His lips moved over your skin, his kisses growing more insistent as he made his way to the inner part of your thighs.

"Please," you managed to gasp out, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most.

He chuckled softly against your skin, enjoying the fact that he had you completely at his mercy.

His chuckling set your blood boiling, your body arching towards him in a silent plea.

He knew what you wanted, what you needed, and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Patience, darlin'," he drawled, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He was taking his time, teasing you, drawing out the pleasure, and driving you insane in the process.

He continued his assault on your inner thighs, leaving gentle bites and kisses, slowly moving closer to your center.

His hands were now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from bucking up against him in a plea for more contact.

Until after that little torture of his, his lips hovered over your aching center, kissing above your lips, softly and gently.

You were a wreck.

Your body ached for more contact, more of him, and he was purposely taking his time.

Instead, he began to trace small, feather light kisses around your aching core, his lips moving slowly but purposefully, avoiding the place you wanted them most.

You gasped again, barely managing to hold back a whine in protest.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, "Please, Boothill."

He chuckled against your skin again, enjoying the way your body responded to his every touch.

When he finally moved his lips to your center, his tongue lightly flicking against your sensitive bud, you gasped loudly, a shiver running down your spine.

His tongue started to explore your most sensitive parts, flicking and swirling gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the sensations he was creating.

His tongue's teasing touch against your center sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair again, pulling slightly as he continued to explore you. "So beautiful and sweet," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice adding to the sensations he was causing.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, driving you even further into frenzy.

Then, his fingers entered the equation, slowly slipping inside you while his mouth continued to work its magic.

Your body trembled, the combined sensations overwhelming your senses.

You were at his mercy, your body completely under his control, writhing and gasping under his expert ministrations.

His fingers moved inside you, curling and stroking, while his tongue continued to flick against your sensitive bud.

The sensations were quickly building toward a climax, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to hold back.

"Boothill.. I can't.. too much.." you managed to gasp out, your body arching off the bed.

He seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to elicit the most intense reactions from you.

You couldn't think straight, his touch sending you into a state of ecstasy that was almost overwhelming.

Your body was caught in a tempest of pleasure, every touch of his tongue and fingers driving you closer to the brink.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your breathing grow ragged.

It looked like he was licking and eating a candy.

Your fingers gripped in his hair, tugging slightly as the pleasure built within you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your voice a ragged gasp, "Please, I-"

Then, suddenly, he stopped, drawing back just as you were about to reach your climax.

You let out a gasp of frustration, your body aching for release.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh.

At the lack of his lips and tongue on your clitoris, you felt a slight breeze that made you shiver. Not to mention how you felt it pulsating.

His free hand gently massaged your hip, as if trying to reassure you.

Your body was taut like a bowstring, the sudden lack of stimulation leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He slid his fingers out of you, stretching them a little, watching as your juices covered them completely, almost spilling out.

He let out a light chuckle, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, drinking in your delicacy.

Your view, which was clouded with ecstasy, focusing on the scene of him sucking on his fingers, was completely provocative.

It was all too obvious that he was more than needy.

Your breathing grew ragged as you watched him suck on his fingers, your eyes wide.

The sight of him enjoying the taste of you was almost too much to bear.

"You taste so good, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could do this all night."

When his eyes met yours, that's when you realised.

You had been so focused on your release that you hadn't realised how much he wanted this.

His face flushed, his lips moist.

Oh, he looked so damn needy.

He looked completely undone, like he was restraining himself from taking you right there on the spot.

He was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

Your skin thrumed under his hot gaze, and you could see the way his body reacted to the sight of you sprawled out before him.

It was the cutest thing to see him like that.

You rose slightly from the bed, pushing his chest back now, almost to where you were lying before.

You knew it was now your turn to make him feel good. More than he was.

As you gently pushed him back, reversing your positions, he let out a low growl, but he didn't protest.

He leaned against the wall, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

He looked absolutely wrecked.

His hair disheveled from your hands, his face flushed, his body thruming with need.

All that for you.

You straddled his hips, sitting on top of him and relishing the position of power you suddenly found yourself in.

Your hands roamed over his chest and bare torso, feeling the firm metal muscles. You could feel the heat radiating off him. His systems were beginning to overheat.

You leaned down, peppering kisses along his neck and jawline, enjoying the way he responded to your touch.

He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing more of his neck to your touch, a low, guttural groan escaping from his throat as your lips and tongue traced a path along his sensitive skin.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed along his neck and jaw.

He let out a low moan when you nibbled on his earlobe.

He was coming to terms with the new sensation of being underneath you.

He was used to taking charge in many situations, but something about letting you take the lead seemed different.

He liked it.

He needed it.

His moans and groans were music to your ears, showing you how much he was enjoying your touches.

His breath was becoming ragged, and his hands held onto your hips tightly, as if anchoring himself.

"Darlin'," he gasped out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you.

Your hands began to wander lower, tracing the line of his abdomen and feeling the metal muscles twitch under your touch.

As your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you paused and looked up at him.

"Can I?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire.

He was more than willing to let you continue.

His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his body was taut with tension.

"Yes," he managed to say, his voice thick with need, "Please."

You tugged on the waistband of his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help you pull them down.

He was begging you, and he didn't care.

As you slid them down his legs, you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxers.

Oh, you forgot that could happen.

You remember that at his request, you made a modification to his robotic body.

Specifically a synthetic limb.

It was one of your best modifications as it was also connected to the nerves that you also gave him. Not to say that his blue blood would help bring it to life when he had to go into action.

You didn't really think you could test if it really worked.

Would you be the first to see if it worked properly? You didn't know.

You hadn't really thought much about it before. After all, it was just a standard modification that you had done. But now, as you saw the physical evidence of his arousal, you couldn't help but wonder if it would work as intended.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he groaned loudly, drawing your attention back to him.

You had started touching his length over his underwear without even realising it.

With just the touch of you, you were surprised to feel the slight warmth that came from it.

He inhaled sharply at the touch, his body tensing even more.

"Please," he repeated, his voice hoarse, "I need you. I need you so bad."

You smiled at their pleas, apparently it was a very good idea to amplify the sensitivity around the area.

He was already a mess, and you had barely touched him yet.

His gasps and moans filled the room, and his eyes were dark with desire.

You could see how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you.

He was begging you, pleading with you to touch him more.

You looked down at the noticeable bulge in his boxers and then back up at his face.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, "So needy."

He let out another gasp, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch him through the fabric.

After a while of appreciating the good view you had, you pulled down his underwear, revealing his length.

His breath hitched as you pulled his underwear down, exposing him to your view.

He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he didn't care.

"Oh god," you blurted out at the sight of his limb.

At first glance you could tell it was working properly.

You were kind of proud of it.

He shuddered at your words, the sensation of your eyes on him enough to make his body shiver.

He was so sensitive, so receptive to your every touch, and it was all thanks to your modifications.

You moved down towards his arousal, cupping it with your hands and releasing light kisses that went from base to tip.

He let out a guttural moan as you kissed him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Your touch was light and teasing, driving him wild with need.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so good," he gasped out, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch and tease him.

He was putty in your hands, completely at your mercy.

He had never felt this way before, completely surrendered to another person.

And he loved every second of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze full of desire and need.

Without waiting too long, you licked his tip, without taking your eyes off his face.

You were beginning to like the way he was moving beneath you.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your tongue on his tip, his body arching slightly off the bed.

He couldn't believe the feelings you were invoking in him.

He felt like he was on fire.

He needed more your mouth, more of your touch, more of you.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in your hair, trying to hold himself.

To that, you smiled.

And, without further delay, you shoved as much of his length as you could into your mouth.

His entire body trembled as you took him into your mouth.

He could barely believe how good it felt, how good you felt.

"Oh god," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening.

He was completely lost in the sensations you were giving him, unable to think clearly.

He felt like he was on the brink of explosion, barely holding on.

Your mouth felt like heaven against him.

You continued, lowering and raising your head, while also moving your hands up and down his length.

You looked up at him from time to time, just to watch him come completely undone.

His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open and panting.

His breathing was ragged, and he was making little gasps and moans that sounded like a mixture of your name and incoherent praise.

He was a mess, and it was all your doing.

He was completely under your control, and he loved every second of it.

His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and he was clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His body was trembling, his systems threatening to overheat.

"I'm close," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening even more.

He was teetering on the edge, completely at your mercy.

"Please," he panted, "Please don't stop."

You loved the way he was begging you, the way he was completely at your mercy.

You didn't stop, if anything you increased the pace, determined to push him over the edge.

His grip on you grew tighter as he got closer and closer to the brink.

"Oh, swetheart," he groaned, his voice thick with need, "I can't- I'm gonna-"

And, before I reached my limit, your movements stopped, ceasing to suck his length.

You laughed lightly, catching your breath for a moment as you watched him frown in frustration.

He stared at you, his body still shaking with need, his breathing ragged.

He looked completely wrecked, and he was not happy that you had stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" he gasped out, his voice full of frustration and need.

He was so close, so damn close.

He needed you.

But you just smiled at him, enjoying the way he was squirming beneath you.

You smiled as you stood up a little, stretching your back.

"Patience, sweetheart." You somewhat mockingly repeated his words he gave you moments before.

He groaned in frustration, his body still thrumming and begging for release.

He wanted you, he needed you desperately.

How could you be so cruel?

He watched as you stood there in front of him, your smirk making him even more frustrated.

"You're a tease," he grumbled, his voice rough with need.

You positioned yourself on his lap, without sitting down.

With one of your hands you cupped his cheek, as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You were a good boy."

His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, despite his frustration.

Your words made him shiver, the praise stirring something in him.

"I was," he murmured, his voice slightly pouty.

He was still needy, still on edge, but he loved the way you were handling him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, as he nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Can I have my reward now?" he murmured against your skin.

"Heh, of course you do." You said, as with one of your free hands you grabbed his length, positioning the tip at your entrance.

He gasped at the feel of your hand on him, and he held onto you tighter.

He was so sensitive, every touch sending sparks through his senses.

"You're so perfect…," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

As he felt you position him at your entrance, he felt a shiver of anticipation. He needed you, he needed to be inside you.

He was on the brink of losing his mind from desire and need.

"Please," he pleaded, "Please don't make me wait any longer."

You smiled, as you slowly tried to make his length spill inside you.

Which in itself was difficult and painful for you, as this was your first time.

He could feel how tight you were, and he felt a pang of desire mixed with guilt.

As you tried to take him in, he noticed your slight discomfort, and he immediately stopped you.

He looked up at you, concern in his gaze, and he gently lifted you off him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're hurtin'," he asked, his voice filled with worry.

He was still needy and desperate, but he didn't want to hurt you.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, as he watched you intently.

You tried to hide your discomfort, but he saw right through it.

His concern and tenderness made you feel warm all over.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain you were feeling.

"I just need a moment to adjust," you added, a slight tremble in your voice.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for any signs of discomfort.

He gently caressed your leg, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

"We can do it slowly, without pressure, my dear" he said, his voice gentle.

Your body relaxed at his words, grateful for his understanding and patience. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He took his time, gently guiding himself inside you once again, with great care.

He was still sensitive, craving your touch, but his main priority was ensuring that you were comfortable.

He slowly pushed himself in, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

He could see the mixture of pain and pleasure on your face, the way you chewed your lips, trying to hide your discomfort.

He continued to move slowly and gently, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. You took deep breaths, trying to relax and get used to the feeling.

It was slow, and it hurt, but having him be attentive and considerate, made you feel safe.

As he gently slid further in, the pain began to subside, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. He stopped once he was fully inside you, pausing for a moment.

He leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your face, trying to soothe you.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender and worried, his gaze fixed on you.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave him a small nod to let him know it was ok to continue.

His gentle and patient manner was making your heart flutter, and the way he watched you with such care made you feel even more connected to him.

"Y'know, sweetheart? This is my first time too." He said, still not moving.

He tucked one of your hairs behind your ear. As he placed several kisses on your cheeks in an affectionate way.

You blinked in surprise at his words, not expecting that revelation.

You really thought he would have done this many times by now because of the way he behaved, you were wrong apparently.

The realization that this was his first time too, and that he was just as nervous and uncertain, added a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, and gave him a gentle smile.

"I didn't know." you said, your voice soft, "You're being so kind and patient with me."

Then you reached up, running a hand through his hair, feeling its texture and smoothness between your fingers.

He nuzzled into your touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He felt a little vulnerable admitting that it was his first time too, worried you might think less of him. But the way you smiled at him, the warm touch of your hand on his cheek, made any anxiety melt away.

He leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. It was soothing and grounding, helping to steady his racing thoughts and nerves.

He gently began to move again, slowly and carefully, still watchful of your reaction.

He watched as you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna make sure you're enjoying this just as much as I am." He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You shivered as he began to move again, the gentle friction sending small tremors through your body.

The way he was moving inside you was still a bit uncomfortable, but the pain was beginning to fade and be replaced by a different kind of sensation.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensations you were feeling. He was being so considerate, taking his time and making sure you were comfortable.

His words made you smile, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

"I am enjoying it," you replied, "more than I ever imagined it could be."

Your hand continued to run through his hair, and you pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his.

His heart skipped a beat as you pulled him closer, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He was relieved and happy to hear that you were enjoying it. All he wanted was for you to feel good and safe with him.

He continued to move gently, trying to find a pace that was pleasurable for both of you.

He relished in the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he loved the way your body felt against his own.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could lose myself in you forever."

He leaned in, kissing your neck and collarbone. He opened his mouth to bite your neck, leaving a mark much more noticeable than the others he had left on your thighs.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp as he bit down.

You could feel his teeth sinking into your skin, and you knew it would leave a mark, a reminder of this moment.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck, silently encouraging him.

The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but you didn't mind. It felt possessive.

Claiming. You wanted him to claim you, to make sure that everyone knew that you were his.

You arched your back, pressing closer against him, encouraging him to continue.

"Please," you murmured, your voice low and wanton. "Don't stop."

He was sensitive, and the feel of you around him was almost overbearing.

He felt your body arch against his, your voice low and pleading, and it made him shiver with desire.

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you leaned into him and asked for more.

Hearing the words "Don't stop" spill from your lips was like music to his ears.

He continued his assault on your neck, his mouth moving to new spots, nibbling and biting and sucking, marking you as his own.

Instinctively he moved his hand to one of your breasts, pulling the tip and massaging it.

He began to move a little faster, a little deeper, his pleasure increasing. He groaned against your skin.

The feel of his hand on your breast sent ripples of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as he teased and played with your nipple.

The combination of his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast was almost overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, arching your back in response.

As he began to move faster and deeper, you felt a wave of sensations wash over you. The pain had faded, replaced by a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced.

You could feel him beginning to lose himself.

Unconsciously, your hand moved down to your clit, touching yourself as you moved your hips slightly with his every movement.

That increased the pleasure you felt, making your inner walls clench at his length.

He looked down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and awe.

He was lost in you, drowning in your scent, your touch, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made. He couldn't get enough of you.

As he watched you touch yourself, his breath caught in his throat. Seeing you give yourself pleasure while he was inside you was an image he was sure to never forget.

He groaned, unable to keep his own pleasure contained.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, his words interrupted by his ragged breaths.

He kept moving, faster and deeper, his mouth never leaving your neck. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred him on.

Every movement, every touch, every breath felt like a shock to your body.

You were lost in the sensations, your mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

"Please," you panted, "Please, I need you-"

You weren't sure how much more you could take, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

The combination of his words, his touch, and his movements were making it hard for you to think straight.

Your mind was swirling with sensation, and you couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him inside you, and the pleasure he was bringing you.

One of your hands grabbed onto his hair, the other one still rubbing your clit. A constant stream of soft moans and gasps was falling from your lips.

He walked away from your neck, having left countless marks all over the area.

His face could not have been redder at that moment.

The sight of him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and mouth open, trying to formulate sentences and words that would not come out, being replaced with incoherent sounds.

It was simply a delight for you.

He tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words were escaping him. His mind was consumed with desire, his body on the brink of ecstasy.

You knew he was entering his climax, as his movements became somewhat erratic and slightly sloppy.

And, him doing so, hit your g-spot.

He was losing control, his body moving on its own, driven by pure animalistic need. He wanted to hold on, to make this moment last, but he knew he was reaching his limit.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He looked at you, trying to steady his breathing and speak. But all that came out were ragged gasps and incoherent sounds.

"I wanna-" he pleaded.

For that, your eyes were full of tears of pleasure.

You could feel him reaching his limit, the way his breathing was growing more labored and uneven.

The way he was trying to speak, but unable to form words, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were lost in the sensations, your body on fire. Each movement, each gasp from him was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," he pleaded once again, his voice ragged and needy, "can I…?"

His words trailed off, but you knew what he was asking for. And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He wanted, no - needed to release.

He was on the edge, and you were right there with him.

You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more uncoordinated, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

You were so close yourself, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. You could feel it building deep inside, like a coil winding tighter and tighter.

He turned his lips to yours, both of you stifling your moans and groans.

He moved his lips against yours, his tongue tracing your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing him in. The kiss was messy and needy, both of you clinging to each other in search of more contact.

He let out a low moan against your mouth. He tried to hold back, to draw out the moment a little longer, but he was too far gone.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze pleading.

"I'm gonna-" he gasped out, his voice strained.

But he couldn't finish the sentence. He was completely lost in the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming him.

He buried his face into your neck, his body shivering against yours, as he held on to you tightly.

"I'm gonna-" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel him on the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was close, and so were you.

"Me too," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need, "I'm so close. Please-"

You gripped onto him.

He moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

And so, giving a few more deep penetrations, he reached his release. At the same time as you, as he pressed hard on your sweet spot, he made you come without hesitation.

As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he shuddered against you.

He let out a guttural moan, his body tensing up, as he released himself deep inside you.

He held onto you tightly, as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

He tried to speak, to form words, but the only sound that came out were unintelligible gasps and moans.

For a few moments, you both were lost in the intensity of the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of your erratic breaths.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths ragged and heavy.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You both laid there, your bodies tangled together, simply enjoying the afterglow.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxed against yours.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you.

"You're so amazing," he murmured, his voice husky.

He cupped your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His eyes were soft and filled with tenderness.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He let out a low chuckle.

"There are no words to describe how incredible that was."

You let out a shaky breath, a sated smile on your face.

You smiled weakly, still feeling a little boneless from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah," you agreed.

But you couldn't find the words either.

"Intense" was an understatement.

You turned your face into his hand, nuzzling into his palm, enjoying the feel of his cold skin against yours.

"I felt the same way," you replied, your voice soft and gentle.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "Absolutely perfect."

He shifted slightly, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

He gently placed you on the bed as he leaned further back on the bed, no longer sitting up.

He pulled one of the blankets off the bed and placed it over his body, then took you in his arms, placing you on top of him, making it slightly more comfortable for you than just being pressed against his metal body.

He pressed you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

For a few moments, you both lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feel of each other's bodies.

His arms cradled you spectacularly, in an attempt to make your body try to unwind from the previous physical activity. Then he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair.

When he spoke, you could hear the concern in his voice.

You shook your head, lifting your face to look up at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me," you assured him. "You were perfect."

You shifted slightly, snuggling deeper against him.

"Now I'm just very tired.."

He chuckled softly, hearing you say that you were tired.

He continued running his fingers through your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp.

"Exhausted, huh? I take that as a compliment."

He smiled, feeling a sense of pride that he had managed to tire you out so thoroughly.

He gently shifted under you, making himself more comfortable beneath you.

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He covered you with the blanket you were on top of, making sure you didn't get cold.

You melted into his touch, the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing and relaxing.

You let out a soft laugh, a little delirious from the lack of energy.

You snuggled against him, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

His touch was soothing, his fingers in your hair creating tingles on your scalp.

You let out a small sigh, feeling the exhaustion start to wash over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, your eyes drifting shut as you nuzzled against his chest.

He chuckled again as he felt you relax against him, your body sinking into his embrace.

He continued to lightly massage your scalp, knowing that it would help you fall asleep faster.

He felt your breath start to slow, your body growing heavier in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting a little used to the light coming through the window.

Attempting to stretch out, you felt trapped.

You looked up, seeing Boothill lying there. His eyes were closed.

Perhaps he was recharging his battery, you looked down again.

As your eyes cleared, you saw your legs and torso almost uncovered, which caused you to wake up completely.

You felt an incredible heaviness throughout your body, as if every bone and joint ached.

Mentally recoiling in an attempt to remember why, your eyes opened wide.

You'd had sex with him, in someone else's house, out loud. Your face turned red, "what a shame," you thought.

You sighed, leaning your head back on his chest.

Oh, but before you could try to get any more sleep, your hand reached as far as it could to your trousers, which were at one end of the bed.

When you managed to reach them, you pulled out your phone, going straight into the chat with your roommate.

You deleted the incomplete message you didn't get to send yesterday, typed in a new one and then proceeded to send it.

It read; "I rode a cowboy".

The chat almost immediately began to fill up with messages, none of which you read, proceeding to toss your phone to the side, closing your eyes again.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[cevansbrat0007]

What's Eating You, Mr. Barber?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to check out Ari Levinson's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Bickering, Manhandling, Ass Slapping, Daddy Kink, Allusions to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s hard for you to put into words just how much you love playing pranks on your unsuspecting husband. And after downloading TikTok, you’d discovered that the app was home to an online treasure trove of practical jokes designed to make your loved one’s head spin. While it had taken a few days for you to settle on the right prank, you were pretty confident that the one you’d chosen would earn you a fun reaction from Andy without you having to risk your ass in the process. 

You find yourself grinning as you take your time prepping dinner, humming a little tune as you peel and press even more fresh garlic for your homemade tomato sauce. Tonight’s family dinner of spaghetti and meatballs promised to be very interesting. Which was why you’d also taken the liberty of setting up two hidden cameras – one in the dining room and one right here in your kitchen. 

As of now, you had no plans to post this on your channel. But you also didn’t want to miss a minute of your man’s reaction. Until then all you had to do was play it cool for a couple more hours.

Later that Evening…

“Baby Girl, are you sure you don’t need any help?” Your husband asks after watching you make what easily had to be your third trip from the kitchen into the dining room. 

Any other night you would’ve said yes, but not this one. Tonight you were flying solo. The cameras were already on and recording – you’d taken care of that before you’d started setting the table – and so far Andy hadn’t noticed a thing.

Hopefully you’d be able to keep it that way until it was time for the big reveal. 

“No thanks, Big Man. This Mama only has to make one more trip and then we’ll be ready to eat.”  You tell him before sitting two plates on the table in front of your two youngest children. You were down a kid tonight thanks to your oldest, Bianca, being away at a sleepover.  

Andy nods before leaning over to adjust the small hand towel you’d previously tucked into the front of your three-year-old son’s t-shirt. Not that it really mattered all that much since you were positive he’d be swimming in sauce before the meal was over. But what kind of mother would you be if you didn’t at least try?

Biting your lip in anticipation, you scamper back into the kitchen to grab dinner for you and your husband. Andy’s plate was piled high with a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. Meanwhile, you give yourself hardly any. 

And therein was the so-called prank. Earlier this week, you’d spent the better part of several hours gleefully watching as dozens of girlfriends and wives proceeded to serve their man impressive looking portions before sitting next to them with virtually empty plates for themselves. Many of the reactions had ranged from hilarious to heartwarming, with only a few dickish exceptions. 

Glancing over your shoulder to ensure you weren’t being watched, you pick up various pans and quietly place them in your oven and out of sight. For this to actually work, Andy would have to believe that there wasn’t enough for seconds or leftovers. Once that’s done, you square your shoulders and confidently march back into the dining room with dishes in hand. 

“I’m back.” You announce, placing a piping hot plate in front of Andy before taking your own seat at the table. “I tried something different with my sauce this time, so everybody dig in and tell me what you think.” 

Andy absentmindedly rubs his palms together as he stares down at the fragrant heap of spaghetti before him. Silently, you will him to look over at what you’d served yourself, but you force yourself to remain quiet so as not to give yourself away. 

“This smells amazing, sweetheart.” Your husband tells you, reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I’ve been excited for this meal since you told me you texted me at 10:00am.”

“Glad to hear it, Daddy” You pick up the little bowl of parmesan you’d set out and hand it to your middle daughter, Katrina. “What does everybody else think?”

You take a brief glance around the table while you wait for feedback. And although you make a point of not looking at your husband, it’s impossible to miss the way he’s now staring at your nearly empty plate.

“Ooh.” You inwardly squeal, stopping just short of clapping your hands. “It’s starting!” 

“What’s up with this?” His tone is rife with confusion, which only grows when you decide to ignore him in favor of dipping a small piece of bread into some sauce. “Hey – stop!”

“What?” When you finally deign to return his gaze. You have to choke back a laugh as you watch a bewildered Andy comically gesture between your two plates.

“What the fu–fudge,” he swiftly corrects, “is going on with your plate?”

“What do you mean?” You aim to keep your tone light and breezy.

Your husband lets out a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the rest of your food?” He jabs at your plate with his fork, holding up the half of a meatball you’d allowed yourself.

“This was all that was left.” You tell him with a shrug.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His confusion continues to mount even as pauses long enough to grab a napkin to wipe at his son’s increasingly messy fingers. “There was plenty of spaghetti left on the stove.�� While he’s occupied you quickly check on little Rory, who appears to be faring slightly better.

“Not really.” 

“Baby…” Andy pins you with a knowing look, one that you readily return.

“What? I…” You trail off, pretending to think. “After I realized BiBi wouldn’t be here tonight, I made some adjustments to the recipe. Turns out I didn’t make enough, so…” Another shrug. “This was all there was after I made everyone else’s plates.” 

Andy is uncharacteristically quiet as leans back in his chair. Meanwhile, your children are busy staring at you, each of them sporting tiny, furrowed brows. Pursing your lips, you set your fork down on your plate and reach for your drink. 

“You can have some of mine, Mama.” KitCat offers before sweetly pushing her plate towards you. The unexpected gesture touches your heart in more ways than one. Not to be outdone, your three-year-old twins also follow suit. 

“That’s okay, babies. I’m perfectly fine.” You reassure them, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Besides, this is all I need and –”

“Thanks kiddos.” Your husband kindly interrupts as he places his napkin on the table. “That was very sweet of you, wanting to take care of your Mama like that.” His brilliant blue eyes beam with pride as he speaks. “But Daddy’s got this one.” 

You’re momentarily taken aback when he stands, picking up his plate as he does. And you’re even more surprised when he motions for you to do the same.

“Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Andrew, sweetheart, it’s okay. I promise.”

“Now, please.” It’s an order, that much you know. But at least your handsome ogre has enough sense to take on the word “please” at the end of it.      

“Fine.” You huff before standing and following him out of the room, although not before encouraging your children to keep eating while you’re gone. Just because it was Friday doesn’t mean it was time to dispense their normal bedtime routines.

You were only playing a prank, not embracing total anarchy. 

Once in the kitchen, you each take up residence in opposing corners. But of course, you’re careful enough to avoid blocking the view of the camera. 

“Baby Girl.” Andy exhales, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you really mean to tell me that there’s no food left? You really made all that pasta and there’s nothing?”

“Yes, Andrew.” You lie without missing a beat. “I already told you. I trimmed down the recipe because –”

“Because Bianca is gone. Yes, I heard you.” He sets his dish down on the counter, openly scrutinizing it. 

“So then what’s the problem?” You rest your back against your pantry while you wait for him to respond. 

“The problem – my problem –” Andy is quick to amend, shaking his head. “– is that you expect me to sit back and watch you starve while everyone else eats. And I don’t like it.” He scrubs a weary hand over his beard. “Hand me your plate, beautiful.”

“Why?” It’s impossible to keep the suspicion out of your voice. 

“Because I don’t need all of this.” He grunts, taking the plate out of your hands when you don’t comply fast enough. “In fact, I don’t need any of it. You eat and I’ll order myself a pizza after we put the kids down.”

“Andy!” You scoff, which comes out on the heels of a laugh. 

“What?” The man is clearly confused by your dismissal of his offer. “I am capable of handling myself, okay? My hands work just fine.” He grates out, making a show of holding up a large, lightly calloused palm.

“But I…I made that plate for you.” You were seconds away from caving and you both knew it. 

“And I’m telling you, my wonderful wife, that I want you to have it.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to –” You begin, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was time to fess up.

“Fine.” Andy breathes, taking a second to roll his broad shoulders. “Then we’ll split it.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you into his warm embrace so that he can whisper in your ear. “And then, after we put the kids down, we’ll order ourselves a pizza. Maybe open up a bottle of wine while we wait.”

“Yeah?” You murmur, relaxing as you bury your face in his chest. 

God, he always smelled so good.  

“Mhm.” He continues, nuzzling his nose against your curls. “And then, once we’re all giggly and buzzed, I’ll convince you to let me make love to you in front of the fireplace. We can even set up a booby trap so that we pretend like the children don’t exist.”

“Wow.” You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles its way past your lps. “Andy Bear, that sounds amazing. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” He rumbles as his brawny arms tighten around your smaller frame. You were pushing your District Attorney beyond his breaking point.

“Because.” Squirming out of his hold, you dance your way towards the oven in preparation for the big reveal. Hopefully your husband would be a good sport about all of this.

“Because?” 

“Because…” You draw out the word, even as you go to open the oven to show him what’s inside. “There’s actually plenty of dinner leftover. See?” You throw your arms wide, but force yourself to stop just short of adding spirit fingers because you suspected he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Baby, I swear…” Andy sighs, his hands slowly sinking into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks as he rocks back on his heels. Most likely to keep himself from strangling you, his lovely wife. “Why–what would possess you to lie about something like this?”

“First off, sweetheart, it’s called a prank.” You bridge the gap between your bodies so that you can wrap your arms around his trim waist. “And secondly, I saw it on TikTok. Ever heard of it?” 

He glares down at you, which has you instinctively clenching your thighs together. That’s part of the reason you loved riling up your Big Man.

Being a brat got your motor running. 

“I take it you have.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss away his frown. “Well, I fell down the rabbit hole the other day while the kids were napping. There’s this whole, like, subsection that’s just pranks. And the latest one involved these women pranking their guys by serving them a huge plate of food, and then pretending like there’s nothing left for them to eat. The reactions were super entertaining, so I figured I’d test it out, you know? Just for fun.”

You grace him with your most dazzling smile, but unfortunately, he’s still having none of it. His frown only deepens as he tilts his face up towards the ceiling in an effort to summon all of his remaining patience. 

“Are you mad?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you wait for his answer.

“Yep.”

“C’mon, Andy Bear!” You pout before placing your hands on his biceps to give him a light shake.”Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Pretty sure I lost it the day you decided torturing me was your new favorite pastime.” He grumbles, although there doesn’t appear to be any heat in his words. “In fact, I have a feeling you just gave me several new grays.”

“Oh, don’t you dare blame me for those.” You tell him, playfully rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know that you came home with those. I spotted ‘em the moment you walked through the door.” Your sassy response earns you a sharp crack to your ass, making you wince.

“Ow!” 

“Brat.” He grouses, even as he presses a sweet kiss to your nose. 

“Guilty as charged.” You hum, weaving your arms around his neck. “Besides, I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“Not sure it’s even possible to fail that challenge, Baby Girl. I mean, you’re my wife. My partner in crime. Did you really expect me to just let you go hungry?”

“You’d be surprised.” You mutter, making a mental note to show him a few videos featuring some of the men who’d actually failed the test. “But thankfully you didn’t. And neither did the kiddos. Which is why I will graciously allow you all to sleep inside tonight.”

You let out a tiny yelp when Andy suddenly grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he lifts you up. Unsure of what else to do, you immediately lock your legs around his waist. Right now you were just going along for the ride.  

“Now is that any way to talk to Daddy?” Andy lovingly captures your mouth, lightly stroking his along the seam of your lips. “Especially after you played such a mean trick?” His once clouded blue eyes are now filled with mischief. 

“Oh, I’m not sorry. But if it helps, I am willing to delete the video.” Your husband’s eyes go wide, letting you know that he hadn’t even considered the prospect of being recorded. So you keep talking, hoping to distract him. “And I still wanna get you drunk and take advantage of you after we put the children down for the night.” You run your fingers through his neatly coiffed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nail.

“I don’t know if I should trust you.” He eyes you warily, making clear that he still hasn’t quite recovered from your earlier betrayal. 

“What if…” You lean in close, lightly nipping at his earlobe. “I could find it in my heart to apologize between then and now? How does that sound, Big Man?”

“I mean I might be interested.” Andy shrugs, gently setting you on the counter before bracing his muscled arms on either side of you. “Out of curiosity, just what kind of apology are we talking about?” He gazes at you with lust-filled eyes, eagerly anticipating your response.

“The kind that’s best offered while on my knees, wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of thigh highs and garters.” You know you’ve got him when you hear him groan low in his throat.  

“Fucky, baby.” Your husband hisses, burying his face in the valley between your breasts as his imagination suddenly kicks into overdrive. “Can you be sorry enough to wear the heels too? You know the ones I’m talking about.”

Oh. You knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I think so.” You murmur, stroking a tender hand along his back as he struggles to regain his composure.   

“Then we’ve got ourselves a deal.” He grips your hips before kindly helping you down. “Now let’s go get those kids fed and off to bed.” Andy grabs your hand, tugging you behind him as you head back to the dining room to see about your babies. 

“Slow down, Andrew.” You laugh as your legs scramble to keep up. 

“No can do, Baby Girl.” He grunts, picking up his pace. “Daddy’s really looking forward to that apology. So be sure to eat up because…” He trails off when he comes face-to-face with his sauce covered little ones. “...You’re gonna need all of your strength.”

“You can count on it.”

END

[lookingformoondrop]

OMG FINALLY SOMEONE WHO WRITES ABT THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY AAA

Honestly I'd take any writing about Andy LMFAO whatever you want to write, I'd just love to read something, be it headcanons or some short story <3

Absolutely! I was shocked when I tried finding content for TCOAAL, and there was none💀. For the sake of fluff Andy, the reader is the closest thing Andy has to a sister!

*Leyley doesn't exist*

P.S. Hopefully, this isn't OOC. This is also not proofread, so

I hope these meet your expectations <3

Andrew Graves x female best friend! Reader

TW: Everyone has a filthy mouth (swearing)... N/M = Nickname ♡

♡925 WORDS♡

Ever since Andrew was a kid, he was treated more as his parent's friend than their kid.

This often meant that Andrew was forced to miss out on childish routines like throwing a tantrum, making a mess, having fun the loud way, and making mistakes, simply because "he was so easy."

If he were to add to his parents' load of problems, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, let alone sleep.

But that was all before he met you.

Every Friday, Mrs. Graves would give Andrew money to go on a snack run for the weekend.

But no matter what he did, no matter when or how he entered the grocery store, this little girl (no less than five) would terrorize Andrew.

"She's so annoying, mom! She always snatches the snacks I go for and then bolts for the next aisle. Then she just giggles and runs away with MY TOMATO SOUP."

Mrs. Graves sighed and turned around to face her son, "Andrew, just because a little five year old girl is taking some of the same snacks as you DOES NOT MEAN I am letting you shop at a different store! 'Shop Shop Shop and Shop, with more Shop' is the best for low-deals and prices. Please don't be difficult."

With no other choices, Andrew was forced to continue shopping.

Every week, she did the same thing. She'd sneak up behind him when he wasn't paying attention. She'd snatch the poor snack out of Andrew's hand and would bolt out of the aisle.

And everytime she did this, Andrew would grow angrier and angrier.

Finally, when the little girl stole the hundredth can of soup from his hand, Andrew turned around and grabbed the little girl's hair.

"AHH! Get off of me asshole!"

"You little shit! Give me that can back!"

They'd fight over the can of soup in the middle of the aisle for the next 10 minutes before the store owner kicked them out for "public disturbances."

Now, without his can of soup, sitting at the curb outside the store, with new bite marks along his arm, Andrew was more pissed than ever.

"What the hell is your problem? Do you just find malicious torment funny, you borderline psycho?"

Andrew turned towards the girl. She turned her smile towards Andrew, "Nah, just you."

Annoyed and exhausted, he put his face in his hands.

She thought for a moment , "No one plays with me, so I figured I should play with someone who looked as miserable as me."

Andrew looked at her through his fingers, "What about me screamed misery?"

She put a finger on her bottom lip, deep in thought, "You just have this face,"

Andrew scoffed at the girl, burying his face in his knees. She giggled.

"You just naturally look like an asshole"

"Watch your language, you fucking shit!"

Andrew went to grab the girls hair, "You dont even know my name, and yet you're calling me an asshole!? No wonder you dont have any friends."

She slapped Andrew's hand before it could reach her, "Well, what's your name?"

Andrew hesitated, "It's...Andrew Graves. What's yours?"

The little girl smiled, "Y/N L/N, your new best friend, Aaaaandy."

Andrew sat lazily with Y/N, laying on his lap. He cringed when he thought about their first meeting.

Of all the things they could've fought about, it was a can of soup... God, they're fucking stupid.

Since that day, Y/N would beg Andrew for attention and fun. She'd stalk him when he was out and about and would drag him away from any errands he was requested to run on.

"Leave me alone, N/M"

"Make me~"

"Please?"

"Lame. Now I have to come with you! With that bitch ass attitude you'll get beat up."

"Great."

And when Andrew accidentally reveal his address? Andrew was permanently stuck with Y/N.

Every Friday, she'd follow Andrew home, and even when Mr. and Mrs. Graves questioned the foul-mouth girl Andrew would never offer an explanation better than, "Some stray I picked up that won't let go. I have to keep her."

"Aaaaandyyy, can you change the channel? I don't want to lift my eyelids."

Andrew sighed, "The remote is right by your leg, dumbass"

"So?" She scoffed, "reach it for me."

"It's closer to you than it is to me!"

"Andy change the goddamn channel!"

"i'm not getting up just because your ass wants to be lazy!"

"ANDREW"

"Y/N"

Even if that meant pissing each other off with meanless schemes.

Despite their bickering that has made local pedestrians' ears bleed, they still were there for each other in everything.

"Whatever, you dumb bastard," Y/N mumbled to herself.

Andrew played with Y/N's hair as he stared at the mindless TV.

"Veronica Steveson asked me out to the date."

"Aw, poor hussy"

"Ouch, you think so lowly of me?"

"No, I just assumed you said no," Y/N continued to watch the TV.

"Why would I...?" Before Andrew could finish his sentence, Y/N sat up and stared at him with intense eyes.

"Do you like her?"

"W- Well no, but it's not like any other girls are crawling to date me"

Y/N scoffed at Andrew, flicking his forehead, "That's because you're stupid to notice."

She laid back down on his lap, and Andrew secretly smiled to himself. "So...who aren't I noticing?"

"Your mom."

"Y/N GROSS!"

And even if no one admitted it out loud, and even if you blushed one too many times around each other, you belonged with each other.

"But seriously, Andy, pass me the remote"

"Eat shit, N/M"

Thank you for the ask <3

[o-sachi]

Where Love Grows - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ oh to grow old and plant tomatoes on your farm together... ᯓ character; umemiya hajime (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; aged up (but just because growing old and in love makes me sappy), FLUFF, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for the day 1 - garden prompt! @windbreakerweek

You've been calling out his name for a while now, yet you received no response. There was no mistake that he was out here, tending to the plants again. Sometimes he gets so immersed in it that he fails to notice how hot it is. The duty of reminding him and hauling him back in the house has been designated to you.

You had to be careful, especially at this age. Getting a heatstroke and keeling over in the middle of the scorching heat would be terrible after all.

"Hajime!" you call out again. Just how far away was he from the house?

If only you knew he'd be this irresponsible, you would have stopped him from buying a land with this huge of a farm. Or maybe not... you could never find it in yourself to turn him down—not when he's smiling so earnestly at you.

You click your tongue, feeling tired from just stepping through the rows of crops the two of you worked hard to nurture. "Hajime! Where are you?"

Finally. You see head of white hair poking out from a few rows away from you. Your eyes met each other's and despite your annoyance, a smile creeps on your face. He was a hardheaded man, but seeing the joys of a simple life reflected on his face made your heart swell.

"You missed me already? I've only been out for an hour," he teases with the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Say whatever you want, darling. I'd prefer if you stay inside for now and drank some water."

He stood up, dusting his pants. But it was all in naught because he wiped his dirty hands on his white tee anyway. It was a habit of his and at this point it was impossible to correct.

"I'll be inside in a sec. Just need to—" he pauses to stretch his back. "Relocate some of these tomatoes somewhere else."

He never said a thing, but you noticed in his mannerisms that his back was giving him trouble lately. You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his aching back.

"How about we do it together later when it's not so hot?"

Hajime sighs, glancing over at the tomatoes that shone a bit under the sun. He'd prefer to get it over with, but he couldn't pass up on the chance to do some farm work with you. "Alright, fine. Let's head back for now."

Even though his hands were covered in soil, you squeezed it hard when he held yours. There was an inexplicable feeling when he'd take you by the hand and lead you around the farm. It reminded you when the two of you were younger—you'd run around the empty parts of the field, giggling like idiots.

It wasn't possible now because the two of you had filled most of the land with healthy and beautiful crops. As nostalgic as it was, you loved how fulfilled it seemed. It was like a testament to your marriage and to your love.

"Sometimes I miss being young," he starts, as if he read your mind. "Back then I'd have no trouble crouching down all day and taking care of my plants."

You squeezed his hand in reassurance once more. "All that fighting getting to you now huh?"

A rich chuckle erupts from his chest. "Guess you're right, darling. But I don't regret a single thing."

The two of you continue your trek back to the house. The sun still shone brightly, but his body blocked it. All you could see was his broad back—the same back that carried Furin and your family on its shoulders.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed that you were already at the fence that separated the main house from the farm. Hajime easily unlocked the gate with one hand and it opened with the creaking sound you've heard everyday for the past 20 or so years you've been living here.

That gate had a Pavlov effect on you. Whenever you heard it, you knew that Hajime was done farming and that you'd have to wait by him at the door where he'd collect his end-of-the-day kiss.

It seems like the kids have caught on to it as well. As soon as the gate closed, they were already there—running towards their beloved parents. A little girl and a little boy went to either parent and gave them a hug.

You had other older kids who had moved out some time ago. These two came later in your lives. Initially, you were worried, but Hajime got rid of your fears.

"The more the merrier!" he would say. Hajime did love kids after all.

He pat both of their heads. "Hehe, you guys missed me too? Your mama sure did."

"Hajime..."

He feigns innocence. "Mama missed me, right? She got all grumpy again, didn't she?"

The two rascals, who took after their father (way too much), nodded along. You playfully narrowed your eyes at them.

Hajime sure loved your reactions to your family banter. He clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's go inside and make some orange juice."

"Yeah! Orange juice!" the kids cheered in unison.

"Let's all go to the farm together later hm? How about that?" Hajime asked the kids as they began walking back to the house.

You were left to stand a good distance away from them—admiring your kids and the man that helped you raise them. He turned back to look at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come along.

Well... you've truly come a long way.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[ipetite69]

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

rafe trying to impress his latina hispanic gf

"so, amor, what's the surprise?" you naively ask rafe as you both enter a café.

rafe had planned a trip to visit your native country and let you reconnect with your roots. he was utterly thrilled to finally get to know your family, the culture, the interesting traditions you always talked about, and the streets that saw you grow up and become the gorgeous, kind of woman he had always wanted to marry someday.

what you had failed to notice is that rafe had been practicing his spanish for months just to impress you during this trip. apart from the phrases and words your had daily engraved on his brain, he had done his previous research online on other typical and casual expressions that could be useful during your stay. he was not perfect at it, but he definitely had the determination.

"i'll just order some coffee for both of us." he says while giving you a mischievous look, making you immediately squint at him. oh boy.

turning to the cashier in a determined way he asks, "¿me das dos tazas de café, por favor?"

you smile at him as you realize what the "surprise" was. after he pays and you both sit down to wait on your drinks, you grab his hand and give it a little squeeze endearingly. "mi vida, you learned spanish?"

"yep, just for you, mami." he winks at you, making you blush slightly. every time you thought you couldn't fall more in love with rafe, he pulled out stuff like this randomly.

"listen to this..." he adds and thinks for a second before finally saying: "¡tu caballo se ve muy bonito!"

you stifle a giggle, trying not to embarrass him at his little but adorable mistake. "so, my horse is beautiful, huh?" you cannot contain yourself anymore and your burst out laughing before answering.

"what? no! i wanted to say your hair looks beautiful..." he scratches the nape of his neck.

"amor, 'caballo' is horse. the word you're looking for is 'cabello'. similar but not the same."

"alright, alright, let me try again." he goes closer to you so as to whisper into your ear and says: "te voy a comer enterita esta noche... (gonna eat you whole tonight)" he smiles at you smugly as he waits for you to process the words in your head. if you were already flustered, you definitely look like a tomato right now.

"rafe! you cannot say shit like that in public, you pervert." you roll your eyes and then he steals a peck from you.

"you know you love it when i speak to you like that, mami."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[chan-skz]

Makeup - Bang Chan

His fingers were delicate. He was so close to you, you weren't used to such closeness. You prayed he couldn't notice the growing blush on your cheeks, as his gaze was focused on your makeup. You made the mistake of leaving your house without an umbrella, not having bothered to check the weather forecast, thus finding yourself stuck in the rain, ruining completely your hair and makeup.

"You're so stupid." Chan said slightly coldly, tearing his gaze away from you for a short moment to change accessories. You pouted, crossing your arms. He wasn't wrong, you should have thought better.

You decided to ignore his comment, watching him cleverly place a bit of the concealer against the back of his hand and lightly tap your beauty blender against it. At least you had the decency to bring your makeup bag with you. “I didn’t know you knew how to put on makeup.” Speaking of makeup, you didn't even know that he was an expert on that either.

"Don’t judge me, but I watched several videos just in case my girl friends needed help. And also I sometimes had to retouch my own makeup behind the scenes during concerts." He added calmly with a small grin on his face. But his expression quickly returned to focus as he began to apply the cosmetic on your skin. "So yes, I can manage to do it. I'm telling you all that because by the look on your face, you look rather surprised."

The sweet smile he gave you made your heart race. But you pushed all feelings aside, you had no chance. Not only was he your friend, but also an extremely coveted man. After all, how could such a perfect man be attracted to someone like you? So many girls would dream of being in your shoes right now. He could easily get girls much more beautiful and experienced than you in a snap of a finger.

"Are you okay?" He snapped you out of your thoughts, his gaze boring into yours. You nodded slightly, smiling softly at him. “From the way you look, you’re clearly not okay.”

You tried to reassure him but he cut you off directly. “Do you want me to make you feel better?” You stare at him, not knowing what his next move. Before you could even retort, his face moved closer to yours. "Can I?" His gaze was fixed on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Your face was red like a tomato, you slowly nodded it. This was the last thing you would’ve expect from him.

His lips were soft and delicious. Kissing your own friend had never been on your bingo of the year, but here you are, sharing a soft kiss that he himself had requested. Quickly, the makeup was forgotten and the kiss became more intense. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands came to grip your hips.

Suddenly he withdrew. "I forgot you had makeup on. Sorry I didn’t want to ruin it for you again." It was clear he didn't mean it. Seeing your lipstick ruined turned him on so much, but was he even going to admit it to you?

You laughed, knowing that this heated exchange had already done it. "You're telling me that when it already happened. Look at yourself in the mirror, your lips and the area around your mouth are completely stained." You wanted to kiss him again when you saw that it was his turn to be flustered by your comment. You took this opportunity to tease him even more.

“You know, you can ruin my makeup however you want and even further.” You smirked lewdly, gently sliding your hand down his chest to his crotch, clearly insinuating your desire for more than a kiss. In a flash he took your hand and pulled you towards another room. It all happened so quickly that your brain only registered the fact that you were now on his bed, him leaning against you.

“Say that again?” Now you were the one being humbled. You didn't expect this turnaround, even less from him. He had always been the shy type, although sometimes he could be bold. It was all part of his personality, but right now the person you were facing wasn't the same Chan you knew.

Suddenly you lost your voice, you didn't dare look at him, feeling ashamed.

Before you could even open your mouth, you felt his lips exploring your neck. A small moan escaped your lips when he coincidentally found your sensitive spot. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around his hips and arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close to you as possible. Doing so, you could feel his bulge against your core.

“Fuck don’t do that, baby. If you keep provoking me I won’t be able to hold back any longer.” He said in a deep voice in your ear. His tone gave you chills and he felt it. You were going to retaliate, but before you could even get a word out of your mouth he pulled away from you and knelt between your legs. His hands firmly grabbed your panties and a dirty smirk crowned his face. "Silly me, I completely forgot that you gave me permission to ruin your beautiful makeup. I’ll be happy to do so and honey, forget my words, I’m not going to hold back on you.”

[mythunderstorm]

Gott, ich liebe dich | MS47

mick schumacher x fem!reader

This is just a fluffy something, no drama no nothing. I just want to daydream about me and Mick living our best life LOL

word count: 656

Idk this has literally no purpose and the ending is kinda rushed and weird but I wanted to post again hahah

Warnings: maybe the slightest mention of a breeding kink, if you squint.🧍🏽

And i’m pretty sure there are some grammar mistakes

(Btw I know Gina‘s not pregnant but let’s just pretend for the story😭)

masterlist

„You know you don’t have to help me with all of this, right y/n? You’re a guest like everyone else.“

„If you think I‘m gonna let you prepare everything on your own you really don’t know me well Corinna!“ you say laughing, continuing to cut the tomatoes for the salad. Corinna wanted to host a nice summer garden party to finally get family and friends together again on this absolutely beautiful day. Even your parents would attend and travel to Switzerland after not seeing them for quite a while.

It’s still early, the temperature is nice and not too hot, which makes preparations a lot easier. Mick and Gina are sitting in the garden, soaking up the early morning sun and enjoying the quietness before all the guests arrive in a few hours.

„I‘m gonna bring Mick a new coffee and check if Gina needs something, i‘ll be back in a second“ you say, smiling at Corinna before you walk towards the backyard.

Your boyfriend has his back to you, you smile, holding the hand with the coffee cup in front of his chest while leaning against his back, giving his neck a small kiss.

„Hey Schatz“ you can hear him smiling. „Thanks for the coffee, you’re a sweetheart.“ „Oh I know“ you giggle, kissing his cheek.

You turn to go back inside but Mick is fast to catch your wrist, pulling you back. „Staay!“ he whines. „You‘ve been running around all morning, just stay here for a bit.“ Mick says while giving you actual puppy eyes. You giggle. „I can’t Mickey, someone has to help your Mom with preparations!“ while saying this you can see from the corner of your eye how Gina is starting to get up so you turn to her, giving her a disapproving look. „Don’t you dare Gina! Sit back down, let me bring you a juice and RELAX. You won’t lift a finger today, alright?“ „If you say so“, she laughs.

„You know you don’t have to do this, right? You’re not here to be mom’s little helper in the kitchen“ Mick suddenly says. You give him a soft look, caressing his cheek with your hand. „Ich weiß Baby. I enjoy helping her, it’s no problem.“ I know Baby

You lean up, giving Mick a soft kiss.

„Gott, ich liebe dich“ you can hear him mumble. You smile. „Ich liebe dich auch.“ God, I love you + I love you too

With that being said, you go back to help Corinna, but not without bringing Gina her well deserved juice.

———

A few hours later everything is prepared, the food is ready to be devoured by the guests and the garden is decorated, with the help of Mick. The sun is standing high on the sky when the first people arrive at the Schumacher home.

More and more people find themself in the beautiful garden but Mick is nowhere to be seen. After running around all morning you are craving a hug and maybe some kisses from the man who stole your heart years ago.

You go back into the house, trying the kitchen first and running into Corinna.

Before you get the chance to open your mouth, she smiles „He‘s in the living room sweetheart.“

You smile back. „Danke!“ Thanks

“Hier bist du! I’ve been looking for you baby.” There you are!

Mick chuckles, “Sorry Liebling, I fled all those people who claim they’ve changed my diaper at least once while I was a baby.” Love

You giggle while embracing your boyfriend in a loving hug. “I think you’re safe now”, you mumble against Micks neck, “everyone is focused on Ginas growing baby bump.”

“Just wait mein Schatz, soon everyone will be focusing on you!” my treasure

You laugh, lightly hitting the back of Micks head “Yea, you’d like that huh?”

Mick places a small kiss right under your ear while squeezing your ass. “Oh I’d very much like that.

———

yea i‘d let mick knock me up tbh

ik this is so short, i‘m trying to write sth longer in the future😭 ideas who i should write about??

[winxfairyliveshere]

Just Mom

Joško Gvardiol x Wife Reader

Joško and reader has a 3 year old son that always wants to be with his mother.

Hi 🤸🏻‍♀️ I hope you will like it. Feedbacks are welcome 💞💋 English is not my first language, sorry for mistakes 😜

You heard the sound of Josko's car slowing down in the garage way. You were preparing a salad what's for dinner with your 3 year-old son who was next to you, climbed his ladder so he can see counter and help you. His head was resting on your left side, hands tapping the surface.

"Oh, tata is here i think Y/S/N" He seemed unbothered, still focused on you. You continued chopping vegetables because you were nearly done with it.

"I'm homee!!" Hearing his voice made you happy and grateful. Love of your life is here, came back to you again. Every time when he leaves the house you always wished him to come back home healthy and happy, considering he is doing a job where there is always a chance he can get injured. Or in traffic. Anything can happen in a blink of an eye. Maybe you are too concerned? Overthinking too much? Does it matter though? You want and wish your family to be healthy and secure every day.

You called to him "We are in the kitchen."

His perfume was faster than his steps. Firstly your nose felt his presence and then your body. He hugged you from your behind with his right hand, left hand ruffling your son's hair. You placed a light kiss to his face or his beard since he has a full beard. No matter how you wanted him to make it shorter a bit, he does not listen to you.

"Welcome home my love. Are you hungry? We are making a salad for dinner. And i cooked-"

"No i am not hungry yet, i ate in the training center." Josko turned his gaze to Y/S/N. He took his hand away from you and replaced both of his hands on Y/S/N's shoulders, squeezed them lighly.

"Did you help your mom big boy?" You finished the cutting meantime, poured what you chopped into the bowl.

"I washed the tomatoes, right mom?" and he started to wait for your approval.

"Yes he did." you washed the knife and chopping board. After you dried your hands, you turned back to them while leaning your back to counter. Y/S/N was still on top of ladder. You smiled with your full teeth to your husband.

"Welcome again." You gave Josko a hug. Tighter this time, warmer, caressed his back with your palms, placed a deep kiss on his neck. "What is this for?" asked Josko with a giggly voice. While you were still sticking to each other's arms, you gave him an answer.

"I wanted to give you a proper hug, like how you deserve." You guys started to swing left and right without realizing it until your son interrupted. He came down the ladder while you were hugging and started to trying seperate you two. He began to push you from each other along with little hits.

"Mooooom! Let's watch tv together. Mooom." You both turned your gazes to him, letting go of arms.

"What are you doing Y/S/N?" you talked back to him with a firm voice. He repeated his question, completely neglecting yours. Josko answered him with a cool tone this time.

"Go to living room we are coming after you." Your son waited for your answer but you did not say anything.

"I said go Y/S/N." Josko snapped his hands towards living room. He listened to his father's words. You felt a bit sad, he kinda looked broken by his father's words yet he has been acting unmanageable for a few days. Fussing with you, trying to delay bedtime, always wants to eat with you and sit next to you, clinging to your legs.

"I do not know why he behaves like that. He was not like this before. It's like he is a baby. Even babies are easier. Remember, he was sleeping most of the day, does nothing just sleep?" Josko pushed his hair back, directed his dark brown eyes to yours.

"Yeah i remember. Sleep, eat, poop, sleep, eat, poop. We wanted him to grow up that time." He caressed your upper arm. "Uhm, i remember you reading a book about child development, maybe there is the answer. Some crisis period, 2 year old syndrome maybe?"

"2 year old syndrome? Aren't we passed that? He is three now Josko."

"I don't know, we should find that book. Or surf on the parenting forums?" You nodded to his words and went to the living room together.

While you three were resting on the sofa, watching an animated cartoon Y/S/N picked, a deal has been made. Your son wanted to sleep with you tonight. Just you by the way, he asked you not Josko. You guys were keen on the decision that no kids in the bed. All of the documanteries you have watched, books you have read, conversations you had with other parents said the same thing: no kids in the parent's bed. This is something that negatively affects not only parents but also children's development. However, 3 year-old insisted to much, eyes filled with tears, so you guys agreed on after he falls asleep, Josko will take him to his bed.

********************************************************

Your morning started with sobbing. As you felt a breath on your face and some hairs getting in your nose, you woke up. You looked at your son in the daze of sleep. He placed his head on your chest, the wetness on his cheek made you shiver. You slid in a little more to prevent him from falling off the edge of the bed and continued to sleep by hugging him.

When you opened your eyes, you realized that the sun had already risen. You turned your head to the right and saw your husband who is looking to his phone. When he felt your gaze, he put the phone aside and turned to you, leaned on his elbow and winked to you following with a wide smile. You smiled back at him.

"Good morning moja ljubav (my love)."

"Dobro jutro draga (good morning darling)." He pointed Y/S/N with his eyes and head in a playful way. His curls moved cause of his head movements pointing him.

"He came in the middle of the night, i think he cried so i welcomed him." You looked over him, fixed the duvet so he does not get cold. Right that time a lightbulb appeared in front if your eyes. You turned to Josko suddenly and cleared your mind with a ear piercing sound.

"Oedipus!" Once the words came out of your mouth, you had to check on your son if he woke up or not.

"Sorry, this might be Oedipus complex. You know that right? Freud?" It was as if all the question marks had disappeared from his mind. He threw himself to bed, smiling widely.

"Well do i need to compete with him? What do you think? Stop touching you when he is near?"

His left hand started to caress your abdomen under the duvet, fingers stopped when he put them inside your pajamas. "Look, he is invading our bed." Your husband's fingers were resting on your lower, feeling his warmth. You answered him while your son was waking up, throwing off the duvet.

"I don't think so."

When your son woke up and sat on the bed, Josko took his hands off you. You guys said good morning to him and he gave his answer by lying top of your body. He tried to push his father away along with murmuring "I don't want him."

Josko grabbed him by his waist and pulled him. Now Y/S/N was under his dad's imposing body.

"What is that? You don't want me?" Y/S/N nodded his head yes.

"Well i am your father so you are stuck with me for your whole life."

"No! You are not my father!"

Now you've joined their childish conversation. "Honey, he is your father. You have to trust me."

"Yes, we should trust her."

"Should?! You should trust me?" You slapped your husband's shoulder lightly, making him laugh.

"Hey, kid is here. You are being a bad example." You got out of bed and tried to knock him over. He resisted you at first but then gave up. Right now he was lying under you, your son was also sitting on his legs. You guys began to tickling him, Y/S/N was enjoying it, you held back a little, so he could share a pleasurable moment with his father.

You watched them with admiration, you were so lucky to have them in your life. More than the rising sun, they were the real light in your life. And your husband, Josko, handled the whole situation calmly, did not mistreat your son even once. How lucky you are to have them with you.