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theeveninghour · 1 month

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All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue!

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone.

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did.

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident.

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights.

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave.

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you.

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness.

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you.

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.”

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.”

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink.

“Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night.

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there.

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

“Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble.

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights.

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle.

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle.

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes.

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought.

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth. “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief.

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress.

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile.

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?”

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you.

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.”

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted.

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these.

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand.

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble.

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.”

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.”

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen.

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?”

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible.

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach.

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well.

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you.

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master.

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms. He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.”

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life.

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence.

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth.

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.”

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking.

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.”

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow.

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.”

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved.

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine.

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave.

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later.

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern.

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening. “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage.

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again.

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked.

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this.

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all.

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you.

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.”

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in.

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines.

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls.

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him.

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #i love this bat boy sm #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #Azriel smut #bat boys x reader #bat boys #azriel acosf #azriel acomaf #This is utter filth guys #These two really went at it for like 24 hours straight

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hanihazeljade · 3 months

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Disgustingly Green

Tim got de-aged at the age of 8. The age where he is the exact carbon copy of his parents ruthlessness. Can Batman, Nightwing and Robin can handle him?

(CW: verbal abuse, wrong parenting)

Part 2: Skill Issue

Part 3: Forced Playdate

Timothy doesn't know where he is. He knows that he fall asleep on his bed and not on some clinics. He slowly rise up to look around his surroundings.

His vision is still hazy and he rubbed his eyes with his fist as he yawns. He heard someone cooed before him. It is a grown up man that he doesn't know.

With that in his mind, he shook away all of his sleepiness. Was he kidnapped? Again? Oh no, his parents wouldn't like it.

"Hi Little Timmy, how you feeling?" The man asked him but he just looked at the man. He has blue eyes and black hair and also really really handsome. Maybe he wasn't kidnap?

"I am fine, thank you for asking." he politely replied, on reflex.

"Do you know who I am?" the man smiled at him and he just shook his head. "I'm Dick, your brother." the man, Dick, introduced himself. His face must be formed some confusion when the man chuckled, "My parents doesn't know that there is a double meaning with that, if that really bothers you, you can call me Richard."

"How about we go up? the man—Richard, said. He nodded, he doesn't always like hospital beds.

He was about to jumped out of the bed when Richard just grabbed him and carry him. He let it be, after all he likes it, noone touched him for weeks now and he missed having skin contact.

Going up the stairs and coming out of a grandfather's clock, weird, he look out of the window and he knows where he is. There is only one place like this that he could possibly be. He is still in Gotham, in Bristol still but he doesn't know which house.

The man— Richard— carry him till they end up in a long table, probably the dining room. In there, they're some people seating and he knows the man who is seating on the head seat, it's Bruce Wayne. He knows his face because his mother always pointed out his stupid behaviour but good thing is that he has some good looks.

"Is that Tim?" Bruce Wayne knows his name, holy cupcakes.

"Yep. As cute and light as ever." Richard said as he keep on cooing to him and Timothy doesn't appreciate that.

Richard put him down in a chair and a butler comes and bring him some cookies. "He wants to eat because it seems like he didn't eat for so long. "Go on, dig in Master Tim."

"Is there walnuts here?" he asked and the butler agreed.

"Yes there is a walnuts in there."

Tim pouted, he is allergic to walnuts. "I am sorry, Mister Butler, but I am allergic to walnuts."

The butler seems shocked at his claimed but quickly dissolved his shocked and gave him a chocolate chip cookie. "I hope this one is not something you are allergic with."

"Thank you, Mister Butler." he said as he take a bite. The cookie is delicious.

After the snack, Richard bring him to the room that he apparently has been using here. But he doesn't remember that. But hey, his parents won't be back till Thanksgiving and they have cookies here, he will escaped the week before Thanksgiving.

++++++++

Tim was watching a documentary about the alps and different flora that has been keeping up with the extreme weather of it, when a kid, definitely more older than he is starts bothering him.

"Tt. Of course Drake will be incompetent enough to be a hindrance in his night life." the kid said, behind him is Richard and Mister Wayne.

Timothy Jackson Drake knows that is a jab to him, and all he could remember is that his father kept on saying, "If they hit you as Drake, you hit them back twice." and her mother added, "Not physically, Timothy but rather used highly intelligent words that may hurt them. Unless they do it first." and those words were imprinted on him.

Timothy paused the documentary, and then walked closer to the boy that was insulting him, and when they are foot apart he stopped.

"Mister, you have such a vibrant green eyes." he said, "But my mother said to me that green is the colour of disgust, that's why she gave birth to a blue eyed kid. Is your mother disgusted of you?" he asked. The room was silent, no one decided to say anything after that, the kid who insulted him has a hurt in his face, but Timothy is not done yet.

"But green is also a colour of evil in Disney, like when Ursula is trying to steal Ariel's voice or when Scar pushed Mufasa in the cliff and also the green poison apple in Snow White, so is that why your Mother left you because you are evil and disgusting like them, or you are evil and mean like them because you are disgusting and left by your Mother?" he said. He strike back twice and that is his goal. His mother would be so proud.

"Tim!" a voice behind him yelled, it was Mister Wayne.

"Yes, Mister Wayne?" he smiled at the man.

"We don't insult people here, okay? Apologise to Damian, now." Mister Wayne demanded, making Tim to frowned. He is not in the wrong though?

"I am not insulting anyone, Mister Wayne. I am merely saying my observations of him." he said while looking at the adult that is so much larger than him, but Mister Wayne is a dumb man, he always broke his bones and spills wine to other people so maybe he wouldn't get it.

"However, if it really bothers you..." Tim said and he looked at Damian, "I am sorry that your mother hates you because you are disgusting and mean and evil." he added as he looked back to the stunned Bruce Wayne.

"If you excuse me, I am exhausted to talk to anyone here. You should know better Mister Wayne, you are an adult." he said and then he walked towards to his room, leaving the three stunned. Well at least he made his point.

#tim drake #fanfic #unhinged tim drake #de aged tim drake #cruel tim drake #chaotic tim drake #timothy jackson drake #tim drake wayne #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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sometimesanalice · 9 months

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Leave a Light On

Summary: When Bradley had given you a key to his place, what he probably didn’t expect was to find you there at 2 am sitting at the piano you’d helped him find.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 7k

Warnings: lots of pining and yearning (Minors DNI)

(this was the story I was working on back in January, before the 'Like I Can' series and anything else on my masterlist. I'm so excited to share it with you all!)

When Bradley had given you a key to his place, you imagine he probably thought you’d check on his plants every now and then. That you’d pop by to give them a quick water and then be on your way.

Maybe that you’d take the Bronco out for a quick spin, so that his baby it didn’t sit there too long going unused. You were one of a very small handful of people he trusted to drive his most prized possession. There was something special about being behind the vintage wheel with the sun on your face as you cruised along the highway, even if it wasn’t the same without him sitting there smiling next to you.

He’d already put his mail on hold with the USPS, but you knew that he knew he could count on you to rescue any stray package that might slip through the cracks and make its way to the front door of his charming craftsman bungalow.

What he probably didn’t expect was for you to be there sometime past 2 AM sitting on the creaky bench of the old, but well-loved, piano that you had helped him to find.

You should be tucked away under the comforter of your own bed, in your own room, at your own place.

Instead, your fingers are navigating over the black and ivory keys trying, yet again, to make it through a tricky passage on a song that you’ve spent the better part of the last three months trying to perfect.

He was coming home soon and you couldn’t wait to hold him, to love him, to surprise him.

Each time he leaves, it gets a little easier to miss him. You wear your longing like a locket rather than an albatross around your neck, always there but easier to bear.

Rooster had a way of filling a space in a way you’ve never experienced before. His larger than life charisma was one of the first things that had caught your attention, followed by that damn smile of his.

He was always humming in the kitchen.

Or whistling in the car.

Or playing the piano to decompress after a long day.

Or listening to something on his mom’s refurbished record player.

His presence always so tangible and warm, like a blanket pulled fresh from the dryer. With Bradley around, you could wrap yourself up in the sheer comfort of him.

And when he was gone, it was the quiet that you struggled with the most. A constant reminder of just how far away he was. No texts or calls or voice memos throughout the day. No little everyday sweet somethings that let you know he was thinking of you.

The sound of silence followed you everywhere. Its heavy companionship making itself known regardless of how loudly you sang along to his favorite songs on the playlist he had made you or how many times you played through the song you were learning just for him.

You had grown up in the silence, you knew it well.

Parents who stayed together because it was easier than splitting the house and sharing the kid. And on the rare occasions it wasn’t quiet, it was loud. The kind that was inescapable regardless of how much you buried under the covers or how far you tucked yourself away in the corner of the backyard.

Until one day the glossy, satin walnut upright piano appeared along the wall in your barely used dining room. And then it soon became your favorite way to cover the quiet and to mask the loud.

Looking back on it now, maybe your parents had wanted something to fill the silence too.

The hours and hours of lessons you and Bradley had both been forced to sit through as children was something that the two of you had bonded over pretty early on. And while he had kept up with playing, it was something that had fallen to the wayside in your life. First with school, then with a career, and now with purposeful avoidance.

There was once a time when reading sheet music had come as easily to you as reading a book. And then one day, they were just a bunch of random dots scattered in between and across five lines on a piece of paper.

There was once a time when you didn’t even need to look down to know where your fingertips were flying to. And then one day, all your fingers could do was stumble and trip over the keys as you winced at the dissonance it created.

And when Rooster had learned about your mutual musical upbringing, he had made it his personal mission to try and get you to play something for him. He was so sweet, so sincere in the way he’d ask you, all big brown eyes and hopeful smiles.

It had always made your chest tight to brush him off. It was something he clearly wanted to share with you, but that part of you ached like a phantom limb. You didn’t know what would be worse embarrassing yourself or disappointing him with your lack of skill when it was something that you used to be so proud about.

It was easy to dodge him at first during nights out at the Hard Deck with your understandable Not with all these people here’s to your practical Mozart would just bring the vibes down’s to your evasive Maybe next time’s.

And when his polite requests were met with empty answers, he took it a step further.

One night in his bed, the curtains fluttering as the sea breeze mingled with his sandalwood scent, he’d whispered into your heated skin, “I’ll get you to play something for me one of these days. Maybe I just need to find the right form of bribery.”

His teasing innuendo juxtaposed deliciously with the deliberate touch of his fingers and tongue as he’d played your body to a perfect crescendo.

It reached a point where you couldn’t stomach to see the dejection in his eyes, the hurt he tried so hard to hide when you’d deny him yet again, that you had to own up to your closely guarded secret.

The confession had whooshed out of you in one breath, leaving you feeling deflated and defeated afterwards.

When you eventually mustered the courage to look at him, he’d been wearing the softest look of understanding on his face, as if he could sense the toll it took to admit the loss of that part of yourself. Then he gathered you in his lap and held you, all while the tears of frustration simmered behind your tightly squeezed eyes.

And when he offered to help remind how to read that language without words, to help you remember the letters of the keys beneath your fingers, it had made your heart hurt a little less.

You weren’t ready then, not like you are now.

But nothing gave you as much pleasure as it did to watch Rooster seated in front of the well-worn and well-played upright piano of Penny’s at the Hard Deck. There was nothing more exhilarating than seeing him in his element so at home on the bench, scuffed and scratched from performers of the past, as he shared that part of himself with everyone in the bar.

He made it look so easy. So damn effortless. His thick fingers flying purposefully over the keys as he played from memory. His joyous enthusiasm electrifying and substantial enough to get the whole bar singing along with him.

It always drew him a lot of attention.

How could it not? He was magnetic on a bad day and captivating the rest of the time. And entirely too handsome for his own good.

Interested eyes, curious eyes, hungry eyes followed him around more often than not after an impromptu performance.

However, those brown eyes of his were always set on you.

Never wavering, never straying from you as he’d weave his way poco a poco, little by little, back through the packed bar. Handing out high-fives to people on autopilot as he passed by to return back to your side. Glistening with the sweat he worked up and grinning widely as he’d greet you with a How’d I do, sweetheart?. Those big, capable hands sliding around your waist, in the back pocket of your jeans, under your top to rest on your low back.

The two of you never stuck around for long after he wrapped up. You didn’t mind helping him find ways to put that excess adrenaline to good use. Usually in the backseat of the Bronco.

You’ll never forget the first time Bradley serenaded you. The song meant for you and you alone.

If someone were to cut into that soft, pink part of your brain, you’re pretty sure they would find that memory pressed there like flowers between the pages of a book. Forever apart of you.

It was the song that always took you right back to that little vinyl shop along the pier. And back to that date that had almost derailed it all.

When Rooster had picked you up to take you to dinner all those months ago, he had seemed a bit antsy and absentminded.

Sure, he had gotten out of the Bronco to come fetch you like a gentleman, instead of sending some half-assed Here text like your ex had been fond of doing. You thought for sure he’d be hustling you back inside after he caught a glimpse of what you were wearing once you opened your front door to greet him.

So you were surprised when he’d simply pressed a dry kiss to your cheek and escorted you to his car with a hand placed respectfully between your shoulder blades instead of cheekily in that space between your low back and ass.

That spot that toed the line between decent and indecent. That spot that made him smirk when you’d give him a pointed lift of the eyebrow, because the two of you knew exactly what he was doing. And better yet, liked it.

However, that night it was almost like he was going through the motions, like he was already somewhere else.

The car ride to the restaurant was silent except for the white noise of the highway as he drove. The circular knob for the radio set to the left.

Off.

Which in hindsight should have been your first warning, since Bradley was never not listening to the Oldies station. A vintage vibe for your vintage boy.

When you were finally seated across from him at that new trendy Thai place you had been dying to go to, his fingers wouldn’t stop tapping out some unheard tune. On the tops his thighs. On the top of the table.

His eyes were landing everywhere else other than on you. On the large leaves of the potted palms, on the ornate pattern on the gold silk that was swathed across the ceiling, on the intricate hand-painted tiles on the floor.

You’d been trying to carry on a conversation for the past fifteen minutes and were feeling completely on edge when you had to repeat yet another question for him.

The anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach had been getting more and more difficult to ignore. You could tell he wasn’t really there, what you were trying to figure out was whether or not he just didn’t want to be there with you.

And god, the drinks hadn’t even come out yet. There wasn’t anything for you to distract yourself with other than your water glass, and even that was already empty except for a few melting ice cubes.

His half answers and noncommittal noises were rapidly clearing things up for you.

He’s breaking up with me.

It was at that crushing realization that the waitress had returned with your drink orders. The bright orange concoction that she set in front of you had been topped with a lovely purple orchid and glittery swizzle stick.

A happy looking cocktail for the girl who thought she was going to have another great date with the guy who was saved in her phone as “Golden Boy”.

“Have you two decided on what you want to eat? Or would you like to hear the chef’s specials again?” the waitress had asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Bradley.

You could tell that she was sensing the brewing tension between the two of you.

“I don’t think we’ll here much longer, maybe just the check--”

“Sorry, if we could have a few more minutes to decide--”

You’d both started speaking at the same time only to turn to the other wearing matching faces of absolute confusion. He’d gone ramrod straight in his chair, his fingers finally still on the tabletop. The shock in his eyes was apparent, and you could only assume it was there because you beat him to the punch.

The waitress had looked at you sympathetically before saying she’d come back in check in a few minutes and then quickly spun on her heel to take her hasty leave.

It was the look that she’d given you that had really sealed the deal for you, and wasn’t that just great? You wouldn’t have been surprised if the rest of the waitstaff was already hearing about the couple fighting at Table 12 and taking bets about whether or not they’d break up.

Lucky them, dinner and a show.

You’d reached the fruity drink in front of you, the condensation from the glass leaving a ring on the table and took a large sip for moral support. Feeling the weight his stare on you the whole time as you savored the tart taste of passionfruit as it burst across your tongue.

He’d just have to wait. It was your turn to ignore him.

As you’d swallowed it down, it had left you feeling more than a little angry that it tasted so good when you were feeling so shitty. He knew how much you liked an over the top cocktail, why couldn’t he have picked some dingy hole-in-the-wall to do this at rather than ruin this place for you? The hot prickling sensation of righteous indignation filled your chest.

You really didn’t want it to drag out any longer, setting your liquid courage back down you’d met his stare and got right down to it, “If you’re going to break up with me, Rooster, can you just do it now? I’d like to still be able to order Pad See Ew in the future without thinking about you and this moment.”

You removed the napkin from your lap, folding it up primly before placing it back upon the table as you waited for the final nail in the coffin to be pounded in on the remains of the happiest-and-easiest-and-clearly-too-good-to-be-true relationship you’ve ever had.

“Wait, what? I don’t want to break up.” His eyes were wide and searching, the hurt in his voice had been evident. And it was the first time all evening that he seemed to be present with you, like your Golden Boy had finally showed up to the date. “I thought things were going well. More than well, actually.”

“Yeah. I mean, I did too. Until tonight,” you’d agreed, defeatedly. “I’m really confused here. You’ve been completely distant tonight. Not to be vain, but look at me,” you gestured to the sexy lowcut dress you’d worn for the evening. It was something you’d been saving in your closet for the right occasion. And you’d thought it was going to drive him wild, but he hadn’t even given it a second glance.

You’d leaned in a bit, lowering your voice, “It’s a boob and leg dress, Bradley. I look really fucking hot, and frankly, I didn’t even think we were going to make it here once you saw this. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve missed a dinner reservation. And you haven’t said a single thing about it.”

It felt like a silly thing to be upset about in the grand scheme of things, but his inattentiveness that evening had stung more than you’d wanted to admit to.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I noticed,” he’d retorted hotly. His eyes had been heated as he’d matched your movement and leaned in further across the table. “Half the men in here noticed it too the second you walked in.”

You didn’t bother trying to hold back your scoff of frustration, the man was infuriating.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re making me feel like being here- with me- is the last place you want to be right now?” You’d given up on trying to sound unaffected, this was not the evening you had envisioned. It felt like being blindfolded on a rollercoaster, unable to see what exactly you were hurtling towards.

“I got my new orders today,” he’d blurted out, his eyes trying to read yours for the reaction. “I’m being send as aerial escort for a diplomatic mission. I ship out next Monday for six weeks.”

He’d told you later that he was grateful it wasn’t a longer one, he knew he was lucky because he could have just as easily been sent away for a deployment longer than you’d actually been together.

“Oh.”

You’d known that that moment would have happened eventually with his job, so you shouldn’t have been surprised. However, it was one thing thinking about it theoretically rather than looking at a ticking clock with a deadline.

“Cards on the table, sweetheart?” He’d waited for you to nod before continuing on, “I am really fucking into you. I’m trying not to put pressure on this, because I’m pretty sure you’re my dream girl. I wanted to take you out for a nice meal, get you a couple of those complicated fun drinks you like. I even looked at the menu in advance, they have one here that they light on fire and it seems like something you would love.”

He was right, it was something that you’d love. You had even eyed it when you first got the menu, but you hadn’t wanted to get anything that would draw you more attention when you already felt like you had too many pairs of eyes on you.

“Then I wanted to take you home with me and tell you after we had a great time out. I wanted to ask you to save that Sunday before I leave for me, so that we could spend the whole day together.” His fingers had started playing that unheard tune on the table again. “I wanted to show my girl the best time, to keep her wanting to come back and to stick around. So that someone else doesn’t catch her eye, so that I don’t lose her to someone better than me while I’m away.”

His confession had your heart taking up residence in your throat. Having him lay it out for you so clearly and knowing that he’d felt as serious about you as you did about him was everything you had wanted to hear. However, one thing nagged at you.

“Bradley, you make me happy. Like really, really happy. I’ve only got eyes for you. If I’m being honest, this stopped being casual to me around our third date. And I trust you enough to know you’d tell me if this”, you’d gestured between the two of you, “wasn’t what you wanted anymore before starting up with someone else. I hope I have that same trust in return, because if you’re worried about me stepping out on you while you’re away, I don’t know how this is going to work. And I really want it to work.”

“Shit, I’m really striking out here. Batting 0 for two,” he’d sighed out more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. “Our third? Really? I thought for sure after that disaster that you were going to block my number.” He huffs a laugh, cheeks turning the same shade of pink that they had that chaotic evening on the beach.

“Bradley, it was comically bad.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the memory of it. “You were trying so hard and you were so flustered. It was so endearing.”

“Who would have guessed getting attacked by seagulls and coming home covered in sand flea bites could have been so appealing?” He joked self-deprecatingly.

“Me, I could have. Since I was with you,” you said sincerely, “No one I’ve dated has ever put half as much effort into trying to make me happy as you have.”

The two of you exchanged a soft, tentative smiles.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you had a wandering eye or anything, I promise.” His eyes pleaded with you as he reached for your hands and threaded his fingers through yours, his palms slightly sweaty. “This deployment is different for me. I’ve never had to ask someone to wait for me before, never had anyone who wanted to. And I’ve been really in my head because I was trying to find the right way to tell you, to ask you.”

You were still getting to know all of the expressions of his face, but the look of open insecurity he was wearing was new to you. And you’d felt something deep in your chest release and unlock.

For how easily he owned a room, for how confident he could be, getting to see these tender parts of him because he trusted you with them had made you ache in the most bittersweet of ways for the man who was in front of you.

You held his gaze, taking in his anxious expression. How anyone couldn’t want this man or didn’t think he was worth the wait was incomprehensible to you.

“So Sunday the seventeenth, huh?” you’d said with a grin.

His relief was palpable as he’d squeezed your hand a bit tighter, “Yeah, baby, you up for it?”

“A perfect day with my dream guy?” you mused, squeezing his hand back, “Yeah, I think I’d be up for that. I’m up for all of it.”

Not just the date. Not just the deployment. You already knew. With him, you wanted it all.

When the waitress returned a few moments later, Bradley ordered a green curry for himself and the Pad See Ew for you. Along with one of those complicated, fun drinks that arrived with fanfare and flames, all while he played with your fingers.

And after you were finished, she’d dropped off a fluffy looking coconut covered dessert that she’d stated was on the house as walked away with a wink.

You’d totally called it, dinner and a show.

As you’d left the restaurant, he tucked you in close under his arm pressing kiss after kiss to your temple as you made your way back to the Bronco.

And later, when he had taken you back to his place for the night, your boob-and-leg dress forgotten somewhere on the floor, he’d apologized again. This time with his mouth on your body.

Twice.

It had been a fluke, really, finding that record tucked away in that small, but well-kept shop on that Sunday before his deployment.

You’d surprised him with a certificate for a haircut and hot towel shave at an upscale barber for a little pre-deployment pampering. He’d gotten his hair trimmed the day before and he was somehow looking even more sunkissed than usual. His patterned shirt was mostly buttoned up and he had on your favorite pair of jeans- the ones that might have been a bit too snug, but did devastating things for his ass.

It was the outfit he’d been wearing when you had first met.

You and Bradley had spent a lazy, perfect morning at the beach reading and lounging and trading sea salt kisses before changing and to grab a bite to eat. He’d held up a towel up around you to slip into your sun warmed dress, behaving himself for the most part. But you’d still caught him sneaking a peek from over the top of the terry cloth.

After eating a late lunch at his favorite little café that served the best cioppino, you’d popped in and out of the various shops that dotted the boardwalk near the pier. It might have been the bottle of wine you shared, but he made sure to stop at every photobooth you passed along the way, collecting strip after strip of snapshots and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

His hand staying in yours the whole time.

When he’d spotted the tiny record store, he’d cheerily pulled you along with him wanting to look for new additions for his ever-growing collection. It was his newest hobby after getting his mom’s old record player restored. You had even helped him build the sideboard he had specially ordered for it to display his prized collection in the living room of his home.

You could hear him talking excitedly to an associate about some Jerry Lee Lewis albums, who offered to take a look in the backroom for him. You never had good luck when you tried to search for specific things, so you were happy to meander around a bit aimlessly and see what spoke to you.

Casually flipping through the stacks, you’d gasped when you landed on what appeared to be the holy grail of all vinyl records ever made.

“Bradley, look!” You’d held out the record for him like a prize. And he abandoned his own search to come join you on the other side of the store.

“Soldiers’ Sweethearts, huh?” He grinned at your find, his eyes crinkling around the edges. The navy colored jacket highlighted a trio of glamourous looking women, each of the three records featured a different performer and their covers of songs popularized during WWII.

“Mm-hmm,” you’d preened, feeling entirely too pleased with yourself. “You’re a soldier, I’m a sweetheart. I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my life. I have to get it.”

“Well I’m not a soldier, technically,” he’d chuckled, as you’d rolled your eyes at him. The joke had you scrunching your nose, and his mustache grazed you as he leaned in close to press a quick kiss to it. “But you’re definitely a sweetheart, sweetheart.”

You were still trying to learn the ins and outs of that part of his life. But you’d liked how he never made you feel stupid when you had questions. More often than not he seemed excited to answer them for you, that you were interested in what he did.

Rooster gently took your newest most prized possession into his big hands, “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Flipping the album over, he’d scanned the tracks listed on the back for the three records. “Some classics, but a lot I don’t think I know. Definitely some intriguing titles, like ‘Daddy’,” he read aloud with a raised eyebrow and a grin that could only be described as lewd.

The man was a menace and had no problem finding new ways to make you blush. You were grateful that the shop was empty except for the two of you, as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

“What about ‘Who’s Taking You Home Tonight’? Have you heard that one before, sweetheart?” His large body moving in and crowding yours, the smell of his cologne making your thoughts go a bit fuzzy around the edges. Your heartbeat kicked up in tempo as he brushed a piece of hair off your forehead.

That find was definitely a jackpot.

Him and those records.

“Mm, or how about ‘Make Love To Me’?” He’d murmured into your ear, his free arm slid slowly against your waist, making a home for itself low on your back. The warmth from his hand seeping through your dress and into your skin.

It was heady being the target of all his heated words and teasing tone. The pull in your low stomach getting more intense with every moment you’d stayed pressed against his hard body. You could see how his pulse was pounding arditamente con forza, boldly with force, from how close your face was to that thick throat of his. And you had wanted to--

“I knew we had it somewhere!”

The associate’s cheery announcement as he returned from the backroom startled you back into yourself. Feeling flustered you’d tried to pull away, but Bradley just kept his arm locked around you as he’d made his way to the counter.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. We’ll take this one too,” he stated as he’d smoothly placed your Soldiers’ Sweethearts album on the top of the pile he had accumulated. Only letting go of you to pay.

Naturally, you’d wanted to play the record the second you made it back to Bradley’s place.

He set it up for you before giving you a lingering, deep kiss leaving you to your own devices as he worked on the final few things left on his to-do list before his deployment early the next morning.

You were happy to make yourself comfortable on his wide seat couch with an Old Fashioned listening to Jo Stafford’s soothing voice with your eyes closed, wanting to luxuriate in the moment.

One where Bradley was less than twenty feet away puttering around in his kitchen and humming and murmuring to himself.

One where you could call out to him and he would be in front of you in a few long strides.

You wanted to avoid thinking about the next day and the beginning of your new normal.

One where you couldn’t expect text messages from him throughout the day.

One where concern and uncertainty would follow you around like a dark cloud until he came back home to you.

But he was here for now. And you wanted to savor it all, to soak up all of its sweet, syrupy goodness like the expensive cherry in your glass.

He must have sensed the turn in your thoughts because his sandalwood scent gave his closeness away before his voice did, “What do you say, Miss Soldiers’ Sweetheart? Can you spare a dance for me?”

You opened your eyes to see him standing before you with his hand outreached for you. The smile so gentle and open on his face, made it impossible for you to do anything other than wordlessly nod your head in agreement as you’d let him pull you up from your comfy perch.

“Apologies in advance for any injuries caused by my two left feet,” you joked a bit bashfully as he wrapped his arm around you.

“Lucky for us, I was gifted with two right feet. Don’t worry, we’ll even out each other,” he murmured.

He pulled you into his gravity, pressing your joined hands against his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. The hand on your lower back urging closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head where you had tucked it into that safe space where his neck meets his shoulder.

take me in your arms, and never let me go whisper to me softly while the moon is low

True to his word, he’d guided you in a smooth, easy rhythm. The confidence in his steps as you were held within his sturdy arms was enough to make you feel secure in your own movement. With him you were completely taken care of.

hold me close and tell me what I wanna know say it to me gently, let the sweet talk flow

Your other hand slid up slowly from where it was resting on his shoulder to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck as your thumb traced the thick column of his throat.

Come a little closer, make love to me

He held you tighter, held you closer, as the song came to an end. The easy rhythm turning into a gentle sway that continued as the next song began. And the one after that.

That night in his bed he moved against you with such purpose, such tenderness. The sex with Bradley was always stunningly good, he was never content to let himself come until he’d rendered you thoroughly boneless and breathless. He was easily the best you’ve ever had, but that night it was different between you two.

The mood weighty and intense, both of you exposed in a way you hadn’t been before. But there was no mistaking the deliberate way he touched you, the unwavering way he rolled his hips against yours, the unguarded way he held your gaze as if he was committing that moment to memory as he made love to you.

He’d held you close to his warm body, his fingertips leaving trails of goosebumps, as you shivered through your orgasm. His mouth pressed against your ear as he whispered soothing sweet somethings until he followed you over the edge.

For Bradley, you were up for it. For him, you’d be up for all of it.

yesyesyes

Things were a bit too quiet for you.

You heart clenched in a different way when you looked at Penny’s piano on those evenings you spent with the Dagger Squad without him. The ache was still there, but so was a new kind of longing. Part for him, but also for yourself.

But you’d made it through that deployment with the help of your three favorite sweethearts: Jo, Vera and Anne. Although you always queued up one song in particular anytime you found yourself missing him a bit more than normal.

And when Bradley returned back home to you six weeks later, it was easy to fall right back into him. That quiet period was almost too easily forgotten when he was around to fill a space.

That night at the Hard Deck when he serenaded you for the first time, it was normal for him to strut over to the old jukebox to unplug it. His timing impeccable as always, silencing whatever country song Jake had queued up.

What wasn’t normal was the way he took you by the hand leading you directly to the old upright and pulled you right onto the bench next to him.

There was already some sheet music spread across the shelf, you’d noted as he’d wiped his hands on the outside of his jeans before settling his hands on the keys. It only took you a couple bars of the intro to realize what song he was playing, already completely enamored before he��d even opened his mouth to sing.

It was your song.

Nothing in the world could ever compete with Bradley Bradshaw’s deep, raspy voice singing just for you. The significance of the song meant for you and him alone.

You heart had swelled in your chest until you thought it might burst from happiness. Never in your life had you been so thoroughly swept off your feet. It was a gesture came from his heart that made a home in yours.

Ever the showman Rooster put on a full performance, his aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose as he really leaned into it.

Your wide grin had turned to laughter when a few members of the Dagger Squad jumped in as back-up vocals, singing into their beer bottles in a way that obviously had been rehearsed. You didn’t know how he managed to keep it a secret. While Rooster was a vault in his professional life, when it came to his personal life Bradley couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

The whole bar was having fun with the jaunty tune, some couples dancing along in smooth circles on the sticky wood floor as he crooned. He’d leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek every now and then in between verses, and you’d felt yourself fall for him even harder.

He’d pulled you into his lap once he was done playing, as the din of the resumed chatter softly cocooned you. You’d seen all you needed to know reflected in his eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“Will you play it again?” you’d asked against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” And you rested your head on his shoulder watching his fingers get into position on the keys once more as he played the few opening notes.

Somewhere you heard a groan followed by a grumbled, “Not again.”

“Shut it, Bagman,” you bossed at him, not even bothering to look in his direction. You only had eyes for Bradley.

“You heard the lady,” he chuckled. “Shut it, Bagman.”

And then he played it again.

take me in your arms, and never let me go

You should be asleep in your own bed and not at his place with only the soft light of the lamp above his piano and a now cold cup of tea to keep you company.

Tired of tossing and turning, you’d given up on the idea of getting any sleep at your own place after the second hour of trying. Throwing on your slippers, you’d grabbed your keys and then drove over to his place, still in the oversized t-shirt you’d put on before bed, in hopes that scent of his sheets would help lull you to sleep.

But all it did was make you miss him more.

It was too quiet without his soft breathing next to you as he held you close and tucked against his chest.

Too quiet without his records.

Too quiet without his happy humming.

Too quiet without him.

The sound of the tea kettle on his gas range had helped fill the silence, but it was his piano that had called you as you had waited for the water to boil. The sheet music you had left there from the last time you were over beckoning like a siren’s song.

It was your secret.

Only for a few more days, only until he came home.

You wanted to surprise him, to sweep him off his feet the way that he always did with you when he played for you.

During that first deployment, for the first time in years, your fingers yearned for the feel of cool, smooth keys beneath your fingers.

You hadn’t even told Bradley, the one person who would understand it the most, that you’d been thinking about it. Let alone that you were actually taking classes again. Making up excuses about manicures or errands or spin classes for why you were busy for an hour every Tuesday at five PM.

The thing that had once hurt your heart the most, was now the only thing that helped soothe the ache of missing him. The only thing that made you feel close to him when you were thousands of miles apart.

You wanted that familiar comfort of making music. You wanted it because you missed him, but you also wanted it for yourself.

A co-worker had given you the name and number for her kids’ instructor, Mrs. McMullen, an elderly woman who started teaching after her husband passed away. It took you couple weeks to work up the courage to make the call, the sticky note burning a hole in the pocket of your purse you had tucked it into.

You had been an anxious mess the day of your first lesson, hands shaking like you’d had one too many shots of espresso. It felt strange, a little surreal sitting there in the body you’d grown into on the padded bench in her cozy living room. One of the walls filled with shelves and shelves of sheet music, her own personal library.

And for a brief moment, you were transported to a different year on a different bench in a different room. Now and Then. Older and Younger. Both versions of you there to learn. All too familiar, yet entirely new.

You started with the basics. A reintroduction to those lines on the page and the notes that spoke their own language for those who knew how to read it.

Your fingers wanting to move quicker than your sluggish mind, like an echo of a memory of how it used to be. You winced and apologized after every wrong note, until she put her hand on yours, her skin looked as delicate as her fingers did, and said gently, “We learn by doing, mistakes only mean that you are trying. Once more, once again.”

After that first lesson, you’d gone back to your car and promptly burst into tears. Overwhelmed tears, happy tears. That tender part of you still soft, however no longer aching.

You’d left feeling lighter as you pulled away from her house to go meet up with everyone at the Hard Deck, but also with a packet of sheet music to practice for your next lesson.

When Rooster had told you about getting his new orders, when he had asked you again if you were still up for it. You’d told him the same thing you had at that date, you were up for it all.

You would take the sadness with the sweet any day of the week for as long as he was yours.

You’d known how you would fill the space he left behind. And exactly how you wanted to welcome him home. You’d been excited to put that certain song just for him in your cart, and then tacking on one more song to your order, a song that would be just for you.

Both you and Mrs. McMullen had be surprised at how you’d been able to pick things back up over the months, you still weren’t anywhere as good as you were when you were younger, but it wasn’t nearly as daunting as it used to be. And when you showed up to your next lesson after your songs had been delivered, she was more than happy to help you figure out ways to simplify the songs a bit so that you’d be ready when he returned.

And now you’re bent over Bradley’s piano with a pencil tucked behind your ear as you played through the hardest bit of the song, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gone over it tonight. This morning? You were in that liminal space between yesterday and today. Where the time on the clock was just a suggestion because it felt neither here nor there.

You had practiced and practiced the song you had wanted to play for him once got home. You’re pretty sure Mav wasn’t supposed to tell you the significance of that particular song, but it had made your heart flutter wildly in your chest when he’d told you. And every time you’ve heard it since then.

It was polished, it was perfect, it was ready. All you needed was him.

The one you’re playing now con amore, with love, is the piece you pull out when you long for him the most.

The cover of the song had made you think of him from the moment you’d heard it. It was more lyrical and delicate than the original, and captured just how you felt about him. Just how much he meant to you. Sometimes you sing along with it, sometimes you just let the keys and pedals express the things you otherwise could not.

It was the song of your heart.

Your fingers trip over one of the notes yet again, probably from the lack of sleep, but you weren’t ready to crawl back into Bradley’s comfy bed. Not just yet.

Sighing, you pull the pencil from behind your ear, muttering to yourself out loud as you note the spot on the page. It was already filled with little pencil marks, some older and some newer. All made because you were trying.

Once more, once again.

Breathing out slowly, you settle your hand back on the keys-

“Can you play it from the beginning this time, sweetheart?"

Read {vol. ii} here!

He's a sneaky one, friends! I have Part 2 in the works, not to worry! We have to see how it all plays out! (put intended)

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist for the grand finale!

Here's a link to the Soldiers' Sweethearts Album, if you're curious!

But this is their song, the one Bradley serenaded her with! Jo Stafford's version of 'Make Love to Me'

I ended up making two moodboards for this part!

Here's the more colorful one! And here's the more yearn-y one!

You can check out my other stories here!

And a big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me spam you about this one!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you

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flawseer · 3 months

Text

Jade Mountain Academy students

#5 - Mudwing chapter

This entry might feel a bit less diversified than the ones before it. These are two sets of siblings who shared their respective clutch, so there are a lot of physical elements that are shared between them (I try to keep siblings from the same clutch relatively similar-looking, see Winter and Icicle in part 2). I hope these Mudwings still look different enough. I also gave them light-colored jaws because Clay had it on the cover of his book and I think Mudwings look cute like that. It helps their faces stand out in the graphic novel style.

Umber

Tribe - Mudwing

Winglet - Jade

Color - Burnt umber red

Relatives - Clay (brother), Sora (sister), Marsh (brother)

Clawmate(s) - Turtle (Seawing)

Favorite subject - Anatomy

Least fav. subject - History

Physical characteristics - curly horns; scar across snout; smallish stature, wiry with well-defined musculature

Other characteristics - socially outgoing and confident; mediative/soothing personality, eager to resolve conflicts

Sora

Tribe - Mudwing

Winglet - Gold

Color - Caramel brown

Relatives - Clay (brother), Umber (brother), Marsh (brother)

Clawmate(s) - Icicle (Icewing)

Favorite subject - Anatomy

Least fav. subject - History

Physical characteristics - curly horns; average size with well-defined musculature; slightly darker and broader than her brother Marsh (do not confuse)

Other characteristics - socially withdrawn (keep monitoring for now, suggest counseling if no improvement); appears to be suffering from post-traumatic stress (was approached, insists she is fine); avoidant behavior around Icewing and Seawing students (keep monitoring, discuss with staff how to approach); left academy grounds for a day without giving notice, claims to have needed to "clear [her] head", no further questioning at Clay's request (monitor future behavior, ask siblings to keep an eye on her)

Sepia

Tribe - Mudwing

Winglet - Silver

Color - Sepia brown

Relatives - Newt (brother)

Clawmate(s) - Fearless (Nightwing)

Favorite subject - Literacy

Least fav. subject - Science

Physical characteristics - horns with feathered edges; light neck scales; stature broad, heavyset, with well-defined musculature

Other characteristics - good work ethic, very motivated; bit of a temper; very argumentative (try to channel into constructive outlets)

Marsh

Tribe - Mudwing

Winglet - Copper

Color - Tawny brown

Relatives - Clay (brother), Umber (brother), Sora (sister)

Clawmate(s) - Coconut (Rainwing)

Favorite subject - Anatomy

Least fav. subject - Exercise

Physical characteristics - curly horns; average size with well-defined musculature; slightly narrower frame and lighter color than his sister Sora (do not confuse)

Other characteristics - fidgety, difficulty sitting still, habitually touches his talons; socially anxious (suggest relaxation seminar, maybe counseling); Bigwings reported allergy to walnuts; concerned about "ghosts" (suggest assembly to put persistent Stonemover rumor to rest for good)

Newt

Tribe - Mudwing

Winglet - Quartz

Color - Moss green

Relatives - Sepia (sister)

Clawmate(s) - Ermine (Icewing)

Favorite subject - Cultural Exchange

Least fav. subject - Exercise

Physical characteristics - horns with feathered edges; light neck scales; smallish stature with average build

Other characteristics - appears to enjoy preparing and sharing food (unobjectionable, but suggest seminar on allergy awareness); occasionally belligerent, anger-management issues (suggest counseling); clawmate reported incident of untoward aggression (suggest monitoring, counseling)

#wings of fire #dragon #wof #wof art #digital art #flawseer art #wof mudwing #wof umber #wof sora #wof sepia #wof marsh #wof newt #jade mountain academy

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olomaya · 10 months

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Sludge Be Gone! Toddler Food and Snacks

2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.

25 July update:

Fixed an issue where the Trail Mix was resetting Sims. One of its components got lost when I was merging all the objects together so it kept giving an error when trying to pull it up. It should now not happen for either the high chair or the activity table. Redownload both the MAIN and the merged Objects file

24 July update: Thanks to @simdreams and @zanynka for the Brazilian Portuguese and Czech translations! You can redownload at the links below.

(Update: I forgot to include one of the files in the Objects file. It's just a little piece of food that toddlers pick up when eating snacks. If you downloaded both files already, you don't need to redownload anything, just download the file and add to your game.) (Just download the updated Objects file)

They literally call the baby food "sludge" in the game files. EA really did TS3 toddlers dirty.

This was actually originally part of my Quickie Food and Snacks mod and I abandoned it (this seems to be a theme with me). But then I came back to it after TS4 Growing Together came out. I still haven't played that game but I know there's a preference/taste system in the game for baby food, which is really cool!

So this mod adds two interactions to the high chair to feed toddlers meals or snacks. There are 11 meals and 5 snacks. Similar to Growing Together, toddlers will love, like or hate certain foods. This preference is based on their favorite food (see more after the cut).

The foods work somewhat similar to recipes in that they require ingredients to be available. However, you only need to have at least 1 ingredient. Whatever ingredients you have will be used for the meal/snack. The icon images will tell you which 3 ingredients are required.

Teens+ can serve toddlers and they will stay and watch to make sure the toddler eats like a good little girl/boy.

There was a second complementary mod to close out this little series that would allow toddlers to eat their foods and snacks on their own on little tables but I probably won't have the time to finish testing it before I go on my summer holidays so I'll release it sometime end of next month when I'm back.

Credit/thanks: The food tray and bowl is from @aroundthesims. All other assets are from EA (TS3 and TS4). Icons are from Freepik.

Download HERE / Alternative: SFS

Enjoy! I'll be totally offline starting 1 July for about 2 weeks so do let me know before then if you run into any issues!

More info and details on features after the cut

Meal/Snack recipes: Each meal or snack requires 1-3 ingredients (either in your fridge or personal inventory) to be available. Again, you only NEED 1 of 3. Some of the ingredients are from the Store or cc (Icemunmun's Baker's Basket or Hot Chili) but if you don't have it, the game will just ignore it. If you have none, it won't be available.

Food categories/preferences: Preferences are based on the toddler's favorite food and along 4 categories: Sweet, Savory, Veggie and Cheese. So based on what their favorite food is, you can tell what their food preference category is. If you change the toddler's favorite food after playing with the mod, it will adjust to their new tastes BUT will keep whatever food they liked or hated before.

Category Preferences:

Sweet hates Veggie

Veggie hates Sweet AND Savory

Savory hates Sweet

Cheese is chill and can give or take anything

Here is the detailed breakdown below (if you want to be surprised and figure it out for yourself in the game, you can stop reading here):

SW - Sweet, SV - Savory, VG - Veggie, CH - Cheese Store - TS3 Store BB - Icemunmun’s Baker’s Basket HC - Icemunmun’s Hot Chili

Snacks: Trail Mix (SW) - Banana, Walnut (BB), Pecan (Store) Cheese Crackers (CH) - Cheese Apple Slices w. Almond Butter (SW, CH) - Apple, Cheese, Almond (BB) Cucumber Tuna Bites (SV) - Cucumber (Store), Tuna, Tomato Pita Chips w. Carrot Hummus (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Lemon

Meals: Chickpea Salad (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Watermelon PBJ Sandwich (SW) - Strawberry (Store), Almond (BB) Pancakes and Sausage (SW) - Any fruit, Sausage links Chicken Nuggets (SV) - Chicken, Carrot, Blueberry (Store) Fishsticks (SV) - Any fish, Potato, Carrot Meatballs w. Yogurt Sauce (SV) - Patty, Cucumber (Store), Tomato Mushroom Omelet (VG) - Egg, White Cap mushroom, Onion Fried Plantains (SW) - Banana (I considered making a custom plantain ingredient but too lazy), Tomato, Onion Falafel w. Yogurt Sauce (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Cucumber (Store), Tomato Cheese Ravioli (CH) - Cheese, Tomato, Strawberry (Store) Mac and Cheese (CH) - Cheese

So for example, the toddler in the photos, Duncan. His favorite food is Fried Peanut Butter Banana Sandwich (oh, America) which is in the Sweet category. So I know he will eat any of the sweet category foods. He tossed the mushroom omelet when I served it to him but he likes mac and cheese.

@kpccfinds @pis3update @s3cc-finds

#download #s3cc #s3cc download #sims 3 cc #toddlerfoodnsnacks

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skin-care-news · 8 months

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The 13 Best Foods For Healthy Skin

Your skin is not only the body's largest organ but also a reflection of your overall health. Maintaining healthy and radiant skin requires more than just external skincare products; it begins with the nutrients you provide your body from the inside. A well-balanced diet rich in essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants can do wonders for your skin. In this article, we'll explore the 13 best foods for achieving and maintaining healthy, glowing skin.

1. Salmon:

Salmon is a fatty fish that's high in omega-3 fatty acids. These healthy fats help keep your skin moisturized and supple, reducing the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles. Omega-3s also have anti-inflammatory properties that can soothe skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.

2. Avocado:

Avocados are packed with healthy fats, vitamins E and C, and antioxidants. These nutrients help keep your skin hydrated, protect it from UV damage, and promote collagen production, which is essential for skin elasticity.

3. Sweet Potatoes:

Sweet potatoes are rich in beta-carotene, a powerful antioxidant that can give your skin a healthy glow by protecting it from sun damage and preventing premature aging.

4. Berries:

Berries like blueberries, strawberries, and raspberries are loaded with antioxidants, particularly vitamin C. Antioxidants help combat free radicals, reducing skin cell damage and promoting a more youthful appearance.

5. Walnuts:

Walnuts are an excellent source of omega-3 fatty acids and vitamin E, which help maintain the skin's moisture and protect it from oxidative stress.

6. Spinach:

Spinach is rich in vitamin A, which is essential for skin health. It helps repair skin tissues, prevent acne, and maintain a healthy complexion.

7. Green Tea:

Green tea contains polyphenols and antioxidants that protect the skin from UV radiation and reduce the risk of skin cancer. Drinking green tea regularly can also help combat inflammation and keep your skin looking fresh.

8. Tomatoes:

Tomatoes are a great source of lycopene, an antioxidant that can reduce the risk of sunburn and skin aging. It also promotes collagen production and skin elasticity.

9. Dark Chocolate:

High-quality dark chocolate (70% cocoa or higher) is rich in antioxidants, specifically flavonols, which can improve skin texture, hydration, and blood flow, giving your skin a healthy glow.

10. Almonds:

Almonds are rich in vitamin E, a powerful antioxidant that helps protect your skin from harmful UV rays and environmental damage.

11. Yogurt:

Yogurt is packed with probiotics, which can promote a healthy gut. A balanced gut microbiome can lead to clearer skin by reducing inflammation and preventing acne.

12. Carrots:

Carrots are another great source of beta-carotene, which can help reduce skin dryness and promote a more youthful appearance.

13. Oats:

Oats are a good source of complex carbohydrates and fiber. They can help stabilize blood sugar levels, reducing the risk of acne and promoting clear skin.

While these foods can be a valuable addition to your diet for healthier skin, remember that no single food can work miracles. A well-rounded diet that includes a variety of nutrient-rich foods, along with proper hydration, is essential for achieving and maintaining radiant skin. Additionally, don't forget to protect your skin from excessive sun exposure, get enough sleep, and maintain a consistent skincare routine for the best results. Healthy, glowing skin is the result of both internal and external care, so make these foods a part of your daily routine and watch your skin thrive.

#skincare #skincare tips #beauty tips #glowing skin #skincare routine #antiaging #natural skin care products #acne #skin care #skin treatment #health tips #health #healingjourney #healthy skin #healthy #nutrition #healthy living #healthy eating #healthyfood

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fattributes · 8 months

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Part 1 | Part 2

#food #polls #dessert #drinks

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lesbesapphic · 1 year

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Call It What You Want pt (1/2)

Sorority Leader Wanda AU (Inspired by Taylor Sloane)

Summary - Wanda wants to show off her girlfriend to her friends you are too much of an introvert to go to a party with her until she finds a way to convince you.

What happens when one day Natasha leaves you home alone and your girlfriend, Wanda decides to pay you a visit, determined to get her way. Would you be able to say no to her invitation when she is three fingers deep in you or fall for her charms and seal your fate?

Warning - mean Wanda but in a sexual way, daddy kink, name calling (pup, puppy) , a little choking and slapping but it's Wanda!, Overstimulation, roleplaying.

A/N - Hello everyone!

It's part one of this three part series. It's seriously a whole new universe filled with angst, fluff, smut and romance! Seriously it is just the beginning @xxxtwilightaxelxxx and I have planned so much for this and really am so grateful for this commission!

Hope you all enjoy it as much as we did while coming up with this!

(Wanda's outfit)

___________

"Mama." You called your mother as you walked back upstairs from the basement after spending more than an hour working on the new art project you had picked. Trying to hold back the beaming smile that appeared on your lips every time you think of how excited the woman would be once she would see your new art piece.

"Are you going somewhere?" You asked when you saw the woman looking through her purse for the keys. Her hands pushing aside content and placing some of them on the couch, the glass bracelet you made for her on her wrist reminded you of your first project, you were so excited to bring it to your mother. The woman would always wear it with her black shirt, like now. "Yeah. Yelena." Natasha answered and you nodded before you walked over to the bowl and threw the keys on the couch knowing exactly what she was looking for and Natasha gave you a grateful smile before her eyes got the familiar mischief look in them.

"Don't even!" You warned while sitting on the couch opposite her. Ready to fight her if she brought it up again. Recently she had started joking about getting Alzheimer's with how much she was forgetting stuff and the amount of things she misplaced and forgotten."What? I didn't say anything."

"Yeah because I stopped you." You murmured while picking up the walnuts on the table to eat a few. Ever since Natasha mentioned this forgetfulness, you had placed a bowl of various nuts on the table, after learning that the omega fatty acid helps with memory. You knew that she had been only joking about it but deep down the fear of losing her in any way scares you to your core. You wondered if the woman was aware of it, you didn't show it all that much but then you shook the thought away. She was your mother. Of course she would know.

"Okay, Malyshka, I will be back in a few hours after dealing with your aunt." Natasha grumbled at the end and you smiled in amusement, as much as your mother complained about your aunt, she couldn't deny the entertainment the woman brought to your house. You could already think of Natasha coming home and telling you all about it as you two cooked dinner.

Natasha picked up her bag and kissed your forehead as she walked past you. "See you." You picked up your phone, wondering if you should drop a text to Wanda, maybe let her know how you were going to be alone for the next few hours but decided to not disturb the blonde, instead focused on replying to her last text asking about your progress on the project.

It had been only fifteen minutes or so when you heard the doorbell. Your first thoughts were your mother forgetting something but then remembered the package, Natasha took for the neighbors earlier in the morning. You opened the door, expecting your neighbour for their package but was greeted with a sight of none other than your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff. You usually wouldn't be caught off guard by her presence as she would always pay you surprise visit but this time, it felt different. In all your years of knowing her, one thing you had always noticed about the woman was the way she took care of herself, especially while going out so it was safe to say you had never seen Wanda in anything less than a picture perfect outfit but this time she had outdone herself.

She was wearing a blue dress with a deep neckline to reveal her cream color Brasserie that left her top half of the breasts uncovered to the point where you could see the mole on her left breast, driving you insane. You were left with an extreme urge to kiss the small spot, suck it to your heart's desire. A part of you wondered if she did it on purpose, revealing it all, knowing you won't be able to touch or play until she allows it and you couldn't even recall the last time she let you play with them. Not even a single kiss to your favorite spot. The dress tied around her waist, highlighting her figure and a slit till mid thighs where you could catch a glimpse of the soft and smooth flesh.

"Hey.." You greeted breaking a very long moment of silence after you realised that you do own functional vocal chords. If rendered speechless was really something, you were sure you were experiencing it right there in that moment. Your eyes flickered back and forth between the exposed bra and the way it softly cupped her breast, supporting them in the right way.

"Are you going to let me in or stare at my chest some more, Detka?" Wanda questioned, a smirk of accomplishment playing on her lips when you flushed a shade of red she was well acquainted with. She pushed her sunglasses up on her head and stared into your eyes, a smile of adoration when you avoided eye contact, getting shy under her gaze. Her hand lightly played with her hair that she had let down today.

"Of course..come in." You pulled the door back letting her in, your body working on auto pilot while your eyes kept on roaming up and down her figure, you had to literally take a deep breath to stop yourself. A tiny voice at the back of your head finding this all suspicious, the timing, the dress and especially the knowing smile playing on the blonde's lips but you pushed it back further, wanting to enjoy the view in front of you.

Wanda stepped in, her fingers brushing your arm sensually as she walked past you. Sometimes you didn't even know if she would do it on purpose or if it had embedded itself in her subconscious, the constant need to touch anywhere or everywhere every few minutes. Even when you two were children, Wanda would come up to you every fifteen minutes claiming a 'Huggy Time' or "Kissy Time" and would smother you in hugs and kisses. Now it has become a way for you two to make each other smile whenever one of you gets upset over something. You could still remember the first time little Wanda did it and you were too shocked to move, almost afraid of her but slowly the little girl swept her way into your small heart and you would start looking forward to those special moments with your best friend.

Wanda walked ahead in the corridor, her eyes briefly glancing to the pictures of a baby Y/N, 8-9 year old with Natasha, smiling a toothy grin but still having a timid look as the redhead hugged the child in her arm attempting to bite the cotton candy, the kid was holding. Another frame held a picture of Y/N painting with Natasha, laughing with her throwing her head back, missing a tooth as Natasha looked lovingly at her, their hand prints scattered in front of them on various white sheets. It always reminded her how even when little, Y/N had a really artistic side.

The frame she loved the most was the one where Y/N and Wanda were covered in mud, laughing at the camera holding each other's hands. The little Wanda was trying to throw mud at whoever was taking the picture and little you were trying to stop her. It reflected your childhood personalities and friendship really well. Wanda being a lot more outgoing than you as kids, she would be fighting your bullies, protecting you from the mean kids, including you in all her games, dragging you out to play with her helping you out from your shy indoor self and you would calm Wanda down from her excited state, stop her from making any bad decision especially the one that might cost you two 'good behaviour cookies', you would listen to her go off about the random of things without losing interest something other kids tend to do quite often.

Wanda enjoyed looking at the pictures, they always seemed to remind her how lucky she was to be here with you, after everything that could have gone differently, she made it on time and here she was aware that she could bring you to smile for the rest of her days, like in those frames. There wasn't anything stopping her from holding your hand. Kissing you. Calling you her girlfriend, claiming you in every way possible.

"You want something to drink?" You asked Wanda watching her look at the pictures on the wall as she gave a nod, you were glad for the distraction, allowing you to take in to her beauty without her noticing, knowing you would be too embarrassed if caught by her again. You started leading her to the kitchen.

"Mama isn't home." You mentioned it casually while walking into the open kitchen, taking out some ice ready to put in the vegetable smoothie Natasha makes in bulk for when Wanda is over. "Oh really? Where's she off to?" Wanda asked while sitting on the stool, legs crossing over top of each other, her elbows placed on the island with her head on her hand as she watched you, the look in her eyes making you shudder but you reasoned it with the ice you were holding in your hands.

"Aunt Yelena." That was enough of the explanation as Wanda nodded taking her drink from you, aware of your aunt and her antics. "Did you and Steven sort it out with Darcy?" Wanda asked while wrapping her lips around the straw, sucking up the liquid, winking at you when you paused to look at her, causing you to blush and stutter out an answer, "He-He is over to her place."

"Ha..I see." She nodded listening to your explanation on why Darcy was mad at Steven and how you were in between trying to get the duo to reconcile again when you finished, you let out a surprised gasp when Wanda grasped your tshirt pulling your face closer, "Hey.." You squeaked out a greeting and Wanda laughed softly, closing her eyes very briefly as if to capture the moment in her memory and your embarrassment turned into a smile at the melodious sound.

"Hi. Why don't you try this?" Wanda moved the straw toward you and you grimaced, quickly replacing it with a nervous smile when the older girl narrowed her eyes, "It's good for your health." She pushed it closer, the straw on your lips. You could smell the lavender body wash off her with being this close to her. You could not help but inhale it subtly before slowly gulping the leafy liquid down as fast as you could without tasting much of it. Wanda always being very particular about your eating routine, knowing you sometimes would end up skipping meals in between working on your projects. If she wasn't constantly checking up on you through her texts, she would make sure you get enough sources of iron and other minerals through disgusting smoothies like this.

"That's it.." You tried pulling away but her grip remained firm keeping you in place, "One more. Please." Wanda requested but her voice sounded far from requesting, the gaze of steel she gave you had you almost whining out loud but you could hardly do anything against the dirty blonde haired girl. Between the two of you, she would always get her way with you. But this time you blamed your mother for even making this horrendous liquid, knowing very well she would purposely do it knowing Wanda would make sure you consume it with her.

You finished taking another sip and tried moving away but Wanda didn't allow it and you raised your eyebrows in question but the blonde answered with a sweet smile that reached her eyes as she pulled you in, placing her lips onto yours and you could feel the strawberry chapstick of hers, letting out a tiny moan at the familiar taste, remembering it to be your favorite chapstick of hers. Remembering the first time you tasted it.

You were spending your time on Wanda's bed, chilling with your comic while Wanda got ready for one of her parties, you never attended those with her. The loud music and the people getting drunk was the last thing you would want to see. She was looking through her cosmetics and occasionally you would pick something up and ask Wanda its purpose being completely surprised each time with the answer. You were enjoying your scavenger hunt within her products when you came across the strawberry chapstick opening it and being so amazed at the smell asking Wanda if it tasted that way too. The older girl had only smirked at your question, taking it from you and putting it on her lips before placing her lips on yours, letting you taste the chapstick. The small kiss turned into a makeout session. Needless to say, a few hours later the sorority leader's phone was blowing with texts and calls that were drawn under the moans and screams she elicited from you.

"What's the occasion?" You asked when Wanda finally let you go, enjoying the daze she had left you in from her kiss. "I can't be nice to my puppy without an occasion?" Wanda asked, one eyebrow raised while she swirled the smoothie around.

"Of course you can, Daddy." You answered still not very convinced but if she was giving you special treatment, you were more than willing to welcome it though a part of you kept on wondering as Wanda pulled you into another kiss effectively blocking your thoughts.

Liho jumped on the counter getting in between you and Wanda stopping the kissing effectively, pulling away disgruntled at the disturbance, "I think your mother has trained her into doing all this." Wanda almost shot daggers at the cat who was now comfortable in your arms, giving Wanda one of her famous stares.

You laughed while petting the feline, "I don't know anymore. She is always fine around Darcy." You rubbed your face against the cat, softly giggling at the tingly sensation from her whiskers, before letting it go, "Of course. She hates me only." Wanda watched the two of you interact, a smile of adoration forming on her lips when she heard you laugh.

"That's not true. She is just protective of me." You corrected while you moved the straw from Wanda's drink around in the air watching as Liho tried to fight it. "Oh really? And what danger do you have from me?" Wanda asked, her voice taking in on a suggesting tone and with years of training from the sorority leader, you quickly caught onto it.

"Well what if you try to take advantage of me when my girlfriend isn't around?" You asked playing along, a little more shyly than Wanda but the tingle in her eyes was enough to drive away any shyness, replacing it with an urge to please her.

"Well, Where is she then?" Wanda asked before taking on a tone of fake sympathy, "Does she not take care of you?" She added in a sultry voice, looking you up from head to toe, making your knees feel weak as you squirmed in your place.

"She wouldn't like me telling you such stuff. I don't even know you." You answered her, avoiding her gaze as if she was telling the truth while trying to hold back your smile at the pout on her lips as she carefully approached your side and you gave her a look of suspicion.

"It could be our secret. She doesn't have to know." You let out a small gasp at her suggestion while Wanda used her fingernail to trace random patterns on your arm, she leaned in and once again you loved the height difference, as you stared at her chest, almost not noticing how close she was getting, "Tell me what you need.." She whispered in your ear, licking the shell of your ear before placing a kiss on it. Knowing exactly how much you love it. You were glad for the hold she had on your arm otherwise you would have fallen at the jolt of electricity you felt at her touch.

"I need you." You looked into Wanda's eyes and tried leaning in to kiss her, whining when the woman grabbed you by your throat, holding your head still, her lips brushing yours, turning your whine into a whimper when she squeezed your neck. Her eyes holding you in place as her thumb graze your bottom lip pulling it down slowly before pushing it into your mouth, you instantly started sucking on it with the aim of pleasing the woman in hopes she would return the favor and be a little easier on you. You could see she liked it with the way she took a sharp inhale, closing her eyes momentarily before speaking up again.

"Tell me exactly what you need me to do." Wanda retreated her thumb back to your bottom lip not before wiping your spit on your cheek, smacking it lightly when you immediately didn't start speaking, "I..I need you to touch me. Play with me." You whispered trying to look away as heat rushed up to your cheeks but the hold Wanda had on your throat didn't allow you to look anywhere else but her.

"Where?" She prodded further, her hand squeezing your throat again. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat and you wondered if the older girl also felt it underneath her hand. You longed to know if it was driving her crazy the way it was driving you.

"Wand-" You started to speak but Wanda immediately cut you off.

"Ah ah, I asked, Where, draga mea?" The endearment rolled off her tongue and you knew she wasn't going to stop until you gave in. Wanda Maximoff was in full control of you.

"I-I need you to play with my pussy."

Wanda took a sharp intake and you noticed the dilation of her pupils as she let go of your throat. "Go." She whispered, her eyes flickering up to where your room was and back to you which was enough for you to know what she wanted.

______

"Strip." Wanda commanded, sucking in her bottom lip as her eyes raked down up and down your body with the lust she barely cared to hide. Ever since you had accidentally expressed your body image issues to Wanda, she had made sure to tell you how gorgeous you were, all the scars on your body, the stretch marks you loathed seemed to make you even more beautiful in her eyes. A concept that was hard for you to understand right now but the possibility wasn't completely shut down.

"Beautiful.." Wanda whispered when your naked flesh was revealed, for a moment your insecurities almost made you discard the compliment but the mesmerized look in her eyes had you flushing a deep shade of red especially when she got closer and started kissing every inch of the exposed skin from your stomach to the side of your ribs, just below your bra while her hands slowly started taking off your bra, kissing the flesh that she revealed while getting rid of the piece of cloth. In mere seconds you found yourself down on the bed, naked from the top as you stared up at her still clothed form, your eyes lingered at her chest.

The glass heart pendant you made her in your first year of college was hanging from her neck when she got on top of you and you noticed the way it rested just above her cleavage. The lust in your eyes burned down to the love you felt in that moment when the pendant reminded you who you were to her. No matter how much you two indulge in the most obscene of fantasies, in the end you were in the safest hands, of someone who loves you and would never let anything happen to you.

Wanda must have noticed your gaze fixated on the pendant and she did one of the sexiest and romantic things she could have done as she brought up the pendant to her lips and placed a kiss on it. "Eyes on me, Pup." You felt heat in your cheeks.

"Sorry, Daddy." You gave her a shy smile before moving to wrap your hands around her neck to pull her in for a kiss but was stopped by her grabbing your hands together to tie it with a ribbon you didn't even know was there, "I am afraid a sorry won't cut it." Wanda gave you a teasing smile and you gave her an innocent look playing along, "What will I have to do, Daddy?"

"You my Detka, need to be punished." Wanda whispered, her face inches away from you as she started kissing your lips, devouring them, making you moan in her mouth when she bit your lip, her hand roaming up your thighs, cupping your pussy over your panties sliding in between your lips on your throbbing clit, "Mmm so wet and we haven't started." Wanda whispered against your lips before pulling away, "Who would have thought a mommy's girl like you would be such a whore.." Wanda said as she took off your shorts, leaving you shivering at the cold air making contact with your core.

You whimpered when her hand made contact with your pussy in a smack stopping you from trying to arch yourself more into her, "Down, pup." She reminded you while she started working on her dress, slowly pulling the straps down her shoulder, laughing sadistically you would say, when you whined, longing to touch her. "Bad puppies don't get to touch."

Slowly she got rid of the dress, her eyes locked on you and you could see the effort she was putting in not jumping you. You squirmed in your binds when her bra clad breasts were in front of you, your attention again shifting to the tiny mole that seemed to mock you of your helplessness, so close yet so far out of you reach. You wanted nothing but to learn forward and place your lips on it, Wanda smirked in satisfaction when she noticed the look on your face, her hand moving up your thigh, nails tracing the skin gradually moving up to your pussy, hovering over the flesh but not giving it to you yet causing you to whimper in need. "Daddy..please don't tease." You pleaded and put on your most pathetic face hoping Wanda would take pity on you but the witch only seemed to laugh.

"How adorable. What do you want, Darling?" Wanda asked, her hands playing with your chest, squeezing the soft mounds while her thumb rolled the nipple around, bringing the soft nub to harden.

"Make me cum." You answered and immediately wished you hadn't as the mistake registered in your brain along with the hand that immediately came down on your wet pussy in a sharp spank and your body didn't understand how to react, the pain mixing with pleasure when her hand contacted your swollen clitoris. "Is that how you ask me?" Wanda asked, her eyes fierce and you could tell that you messed up with the way one of her eyebrows was raised in question and if her hand wasn't busy hovering over your pussy as a reminder of what was going to come next if you didn't do something, she would have them crossed over her chest.

"No! No. I meant to say please please make me cum. I swear." You pleaded, your eyes fixated on her hand as you flexed your thighs knowing you couldn't do anything if she were to decide on a spanking, but it never came as Wanda hummed weighing your words, "On my terms." She declared at last and you nodded about to thank her when her hand came down on your core again in a quick spank but before you could cry or protest, the hand didn't move instead parted your lips and dipped into your wet folds causing you to moan.

You wanted to arch up your hips, guide Wanda better but you refrained from doing knowing Wanda would definitely leave you tied up if you made another mistake and the past encounters were enough to remind you how Wanda knew your body better than you. "Ah..Daddy." You moaned loudly when two of Wanda's fingers went inside you at once the wetness allowed them in without any resistance, followed by another. You gasped for breath when she scissored her fingers inside you hitting all the right spots. Soon enough you could feel your walls tighten and an orgasm building up which you were sure Wanda was aware of as the moment you looked at her, her eyes were already on you watching you like a hawk as she shook her head 'No' and you whimpered while trying your best to not let go knowing the consequences would be severe.

"Do you not want it? I don't see you begging for permission." Wanda's fingers started slowing down after a few moments as she mocked you with a tsked of her tongue and you instantly opened your mouth to plead for your dying high.

"Please Daddy..Please let me cum." You closed your eyes tightly as your cheeks flushed a shade darker, trying to search for the dying pleasure, so desperately wanting to move your legs, rub your thighs together, arch your back but Wanda had trained you into mentally binding yourself. You wouldn't move until given permission, too aware of the consequences."I know you can do better than this." Wanda taunted while curling her finger and you almost arched up into her at the sudden jolt of pleasure.

"Please. I will do whatever.. whatever you want.. anything..just don't stop. Please, Daddy" You cried out when she slowed down again, edging you to your orgasm and stopping. It was becoming her favourite game. "Look at me." Wanda whispered, her face mere inches away from you as you opened your eyes to stare in her emerald eyes. "Anything?" She asked and you nodded while biting your lip, "Anything you want." The moment those words left your mouth, Wanda's lips attacked yours.

Her fingers started moving at a faster pace, her thumb playing with your clit, it took mere seconds for her to build up your orgasm again, "Hold it." Wanda whispered in your ear when she stopped kissing you, her lips leaving butterfly kisses down your jaw to neck, you whined at her command wondering what she was thinking before her mouth dropped on your left nipple, sucking and biting the hard nub to life as your senses exploded with pleasure. "Please.." All you could do was beg, your body trying its best to hold back the climax it desired the most.

Wanda played with your chest a little before moving down to your pussy and you almost cried out in relief when she attached her mouth to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves before tapping your thigh twice an indication that you could let go, you didn't have to be told twice as you let your body reach its climax. Your toes curled as the knot uncurled in the most pleasurably painful way letting you relax as you fall back on the bed, breathing heavier than usual, gasping for breath, whimpering when Wanda started licking up your juices before slowly coming up. You watched the woman with your hooded eyes, as she slowly licked the drops of cum off the glass heart hanging from her neck winking at you when your face heated up in the darkest shade of red possible, "Thank you." You whispered after a moment when your breathing finally calmed enough.

"It's not over yet." Wanda pecked your lips and your eyes widen in fear, afraid for your already tired body, you shook your head but Wanda only smile at you. The mean smile she would reserve for moment like these, "I don't think I can." You tugged at your hands and Wanda brushed your hair away from your eyes as her fingers already started working you up. "What? I thought you wanted to cum?" Wanda asked and you only answered with a moan mixed with a whimper of pain. It felt bitter sweet.

"I am sure, You can handle one more for me, Detka." Wanda flexed her fingers, her other hand rolling your nipple as her hand squeezed the flesh leaving you a writhing mess underneath her. "Pl-Please." You didn't know if you wanted her to stop or for her to continue but begging her seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you assumed that Wanda would know what you want but when her fingers started slowing down again as she reminded you of your promise of doing anything and you nodded, just wanting her to continue the sinful things she was doing to your body.

"The party on Saturda-"

"Yes Yes Yes." You cut her off, whimpering when Wanda pinched your nipple as a consequence of your action. "Will you accompany me?" Wanda finished and you nodded before verbally responding with an answer and Wanda let you have your second orgasm as the reality of the situation started sinking in you but you were too tired in that moment to react especially when Wanda laid down next to you, her face next to yours as she unbind your hands, you closed your legs and whimpered quietly at the sensitivity. "Thank you." Wanda looked into your eyes with such happiness that you felt pleased with your decision to say yes, grinning tiredly to yourself ignoring the embarrassment from being completely naked while Wanda was still wearing her undies. Wanda slowly sat up and the excitement returned in your eyes when the woman started taking off her bra, no wonder Wanda called you puppy with how fast you were salivating at the prospect of seeing her naked chest.

Wanda glanced back at you and when she noticed your tired yet hungry gaze fixated on her chest, she couldn't help but let out a laugh, "Aww my baby, come here." She cooed and you ignored the flushing in your cheek as you followed her lead, laying back on the bed, she guided you to her chest and you instantly placed a kiss on her mole, hearing her let out a sigh of content. Wanda loved everytime you kissed her mole, the first kiss would be anything but sexual, it would be purely out of admiration and love for her body and her. She didn't know if you did it purposely but everytime you would snuggle close or share a moment of intimacy, your mouth would find her left breast placing a kiss where the mole was, clothed or naked. It was an oddly cute habit of yours, one she would never wish to change.

You were slowly drifting off with a content smile, your lips wrapped around her nipple while her hand ran through your hair, sometimes scratching the scalp soothingly pushing you into a sleepy state only to end it when she pulled her breast away from your mouth, turning your content smile into a frown as the woman started getting up as well, muttering something about cleaning you up but you only desired to stay close to her. "Nooo." You held onto her a little tighter, determined to not give up this time refusing to let go causing Wanda to let out a laugh, "Fine. Five minutes." Wanda relented after a moment, her voice firm, holding finality and in that moment you were even grateful for the three hundred seconds if it meant being close to her, hearing her beating heart that used to scare you of each passing second but now it only left you with a feeling of content of the days you had ahead with her in each other's embrace.

_________

Hope you all loved it. We would love to hear your thoughts on it! Reblog or drop em in my asks! <3

@xxxtwilightaxelxxx suggested that you all might like this, so please take a look and reblog if you like it! Hope you all enjoy it! (Sorry for the inconvenience if it hinders your activity) cthulhus-curse

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garaks-padded-bra · 6 months

Note

Can we please have the recipe for the kraft single on a patty looking cake because I think it looks delicious and I want some

Its a pumpkin cake its tasty its ugly its EASY!!!

1. Preheat oven to 180c/350f

2. You need to roast about 400-500g of pumpkin or butternut squash until its soft and then puree it.

(or if you are american you can buy pumpkin puree I believe, in canned form)

(Ive never had it idk :)) (But maybe roasting is nicer…)

3. WHISK TOGETHER DRY INGREDIENTS.

240g flour

300g sugar

2 tablespoons baking powder and 1 tablespoon baking soda

However much cinammon nutmeg etc you want measure with your heart

Pinch of salt

4. THEN MIX THE WET STUFF INTO GOOP IN ANOTHER BOWL

3 eggs

cup of light olive oil

The pumpkin (1 can if you are a smelly can boy)

5. Whisk the dry and the wet then put it in ur baking tin. If you want yours to look uncanny and burger like, don’t grease your tin. Mine looks like a patty cuz I used baking paper </3

6. Bake for like 35 min :)

You thought it was over. It isnt. Im sorry. You need to make the icing. This is the part where you learn that the kraft cheese illusion…. is actually cheese. Im so embarrassed.

7. BEAT THE CHEESE

Beat together 220g room temp cream cheese, 110g butter/a stick of butter, and a 125g/a cup of icing sugar with another teaspoon of cinnamon and 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

If you wanna do it properly do it with a handmixer, but if you want it to look ridiculous like mine do it by hand then give up halfway through and put it on a too-warm cake

The end. U can top with crushed walnuts if you want :) but i didnt and now 10 thousand people mock me online

#CAKE #RECIPE #DELICIOUS RECIPES SHARED BY HANDSOME MEN #long post

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somanyratsinthewalls · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Special Part 4

Mo’s Kinktober Special

The Crew’s Whore (Part 4) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your power fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Usopp x afab!reader

WC: 3200 ehehehe

TW's: Alcohol consumption, cowgirl, face sitting, oral sex m receiving, blowjob, a little exhibitionism, virginity loss, virgin usopp :( , oral sex f receiving, pet names, begging, submissive usopp :(

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Liar

——

Earlier in the Day…

Zoro, Sanji and Usopp sat side by side on the railing of the deck watching their fishing poles in the water. The stores of meat were getting a little on the low side, and the whole crew knew what a nightmare their captain would be if there was a shortage of food, so it was all hands on deck for fishing duty.

“So I had y/n in the bathroom the other day, it was insane.” Zoro starts after several long minutes of silence and no bites on the hooks.

“Yeah, I KNOW.” Usopp snaps back at the mention of what he walked in on a few days ago.

“Haha oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Zoro chuckled and leaned back on his arm. “Sorry I’m not sorry, you were bound to see it some time. I don’t know why you don’t just have her for yourself for once, you’d understand it then. Oh wait, you’re too chicken shit.��

“Chicken shit? Oh sorry I RESPECT women, and whatever configuration you had her in was NOT respectful.” Usopp shot back at the swordsman.

“Oh yeah? Then why was she cummin’ all over the floor? Seemed pretty respectful to me.” Zoro smirked.

“He has a point, moss head. You obviously have no idea how to truly, romantically, pleasure a woman.” Sanji didn’t even turn his head to insult Zoro.

“At least I’m not in there whimpering and begging! You think you’re quiet? It’s gross, shitcook, be a real man.”

Sanji stood up, abandoning his fishing pole, his right ankle beginning to flame.

“Oh you want to fucking go, asshole?”

Zoro stands up to unsheathe a single sword.

“Anytime, curly fuckface.”

“You guys really suck, man, I hope y’all know that.” Usopp sighed and grabbed his fishing pole to move it to the opposite side of the ship. He plants his pole against the railing as he lets Sanji and Zoro’s yelling fade into the background.

“HEY BROS? I SPECIFICALLY SAID NO DIABLÉ ON THE SHIP! CUT IT OUT!” Franky’s booming voice came from the top deck as he interrupted the idiots’ argument.

Usopp thought about what Zoro said… he wasn’t chicken shit…

— —-

That Same Day, Much Later

This evening aboard the Thousand Sunny, the weather was warm and quite breezy. As per usual there was a large spread for dinner that Sanji had expertly prepared, and the alcohol was certainly flowing. You sat in between Luffy and Usopp, your ear drums basically exploded from the decibel of their laughing and story telling.

“-And if I wasn’t there, that old lady AND her cat would have DIED!” Usopp was regaling the crew with some ridiculous story about a walnut tree that had been set on fire back in Syrup Village. Was it true? Absolutely not. Was he adorable? Of course.

Luffy was laughing his ass off, believing every word.

“Wow Usopp! You’re a real hero! I bet Mr. Snuggles owes you his life!” Luffy said between bouts of laughter.

You giggled before you leaned in and poked the tip of Usopp’s nose, teasingly.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You chuckled at him.

“I.. uh…” Usopp stuttered out before quieting down, his cheeks flushed a dark red. Luffy, oblivious, picked the conversation up again, telling a story about a cat he accidentally tried to eat during his childhood with the bandits.

After everyone had their fill of food and drink, the crew each returned to their own respective tasks and business. You hung in the galley for awhile, drinking another glass of wine and drying dishes for Sanji. He was always such a good boy for you, why not help him out?

One finishing your task, you gave Sanji a peck on the cheek, to which he fussed and fawned over you briefly, and you grabbed another glass of wine before heading down the stairs towards your room. With airy steps and chardonnay in your hand, you treaded down the hall towards the bedrooms. Before you turned the corner you heard something. A beautiful melody was being played somewhere nearby and it caught your ear. You decided to follow the enchanting sound to the door of the lounge and you pushed it open.

Inside, Brook was playing a gorgeous tune on the piano alone. You smiled seeing him so happy and in his element. You sauntered over to the piano bench and sat down next to the large skeletal man. He notices you next to him and slows his playing to a softer volume.

“Oh beautiful y/n! How nice of you to join me! Any requests?”

“No, this is great. What you’re playing is lovely, please continue.” You sip your wine and close your eyes, enjoying the soft notes from the piano keys. Brook finishes his song and you clap your other hand to the wine glass gently to mimic applause.

“Bravo, Bone Daddy.” You smile. You continue, “You know… I am sorry that you can’t… you know…”

“Oh, don’t worry sweet y/n. It’s quite alright, it’s the thought that counts, right? Yohoohoho!”

“Hmm… I guess you’re right… Here.” You stand up from the piano bench and slide out. You hike your thumbs underneath your short, black pleated skirt. You grab the edge of your pink lace panties and pull them down to your ankles and step out of them. You grab your panties and fold them up nicely. You grab one of Brook’s skeletal hands and place the panties in them and close it up. “Keep em. My treat.” You wink and you turn to walk out of the lounge. As you leave you hear unintelligible thanks spill from Brook’s bony mouth, saying he would cherish them as long as he lived (too bad he was already dead).

You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door to the lounge behind you. You realize your glass was once again empty, so you returned to the galley to fill it. You poured another full glass of wine before heading out to the deck again. It was quiet, but you notice Usopp sitting on the deck fiddling with his slingshot and some sort of supplies from his bag.

“Well hey there,” You holler at him from across the deck and begin to saunter towards him.

“Oh, hey y/n. What are you doing out here?” Usopp doesn’t look up from his project.

“Just hanging out. Though I’d enjoy this nice weather.” You walk towards the railing of the ship and lean forward on it.

“Yeah it is nice out, hey if you go back in for another drink could you grab me a-“ Usopp looks up towards you facing outwards towards the sea. You were leaned over the railing and the wind was blowing your skirt up over your ass. Having taken off your panties, your bare cunt and cheeks were on full display for him.

Usopp instinctively jumped up and moved his body behind yours to cover you. Although there was no one else on the deck, he thought to immediately shelter your most intimate bits from any prying eyes. You felt him behind you and shot up.

“Usopp…” You ask as you turn yourself around to face him, chests almost touching.

“Y/n! What the hell are you doing? You…” He whispers and looks around, “you don’t have any panties on!” He very quietly but very harshly breaths out at you.

You giggle.

“Oh, that? Yeah. Does it bother you, Usopp? You don’t like seeing my pussy on the deck like this?” You tease him as you step closer to him, bringing your breasts to press against his torso.

“No I mean I never said- I mean no! Wait yes I mean yes! Hold on, no, no I don’t dislike it I just-…” His brain was fried as if he just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He could feel your nipples through your tight crop top.

“Ohhh… so you DO like it?” You purr at him.

“YES obviously, yes it’s great I mean-“ He stutters as you wrap your hands around his neck. You pull him closer to you and you gently press your lips against his to shut up him. He freezes. It took at least a full 30 seconds for him to start kissing you back. Usopp finally gathers the courage to place his hands on your waist as you kiss him deeply. You pull back, holding the side of his face with one hand, looking into his nervous eyes.

“Would you like to take me back to your room, Usopp?” You seductively ask. He blinks blankly at you. He wasn't chicken shit. He grabs your hand and pulls you quickly through the ship to his room.

Closing the door behind you, you wrap your arms around him again, consuming him in another heavy make out session. You could feel his hands on your body shaking.

“Nervous, sweetheart?” You pull back and coo at him.

“Ha, nervous? Nah, no never. I do this all the time! You know I used to have a girlfriend back in Syrup Village, she was basically a princess and she and I-“ You press your finger to his lips.

“We both know that’s bullshit.” You smirk at him. You trace your finger along his lips. “You’ve never touched a woman in your life. Never felt the hot, wet mouth of a woman on your cock. You’ve never tasted the sweet release of a pretty girl on your tongue. You’ve never felt the tight squeeze of a cunt while you’re deep inside of it.”

Usopp whimpers at your filthy words. You snake your left hand in between your bodies to palm him over his overalls.

“Shit- okay fine. You got me. I have no idea what I’m doing. I want to make you feel good but I.. I don’t know how…”

“Then let me show you…” You push his body back towards the bed making him flop onto it. You slunk in between his knees and removed his clothes. You slipped out of your shirt over your head and your skirts down your legs, not needing to remove your panties since you had already gifted them to your Bone Daddy earlier. His cock was so painfully hard already, it bobbed angrily in front of your face as you pulled down his coveralls.

“Are you gonna… what are you gonna do?” Usopp asks you anxiously. “well… nothing you don’t want, okay sweetheart? I was going to take you in my mouth… if that’s alright my sweet boy?” You settle yourself between his thighs and start to stroke his cock slowly.

“Yes… I-I want to be in your mouth please…” He stares intently down at you, hypnotized by your beauty and eagerness.

“Hmm…” You hum as you slowly lave your tongue over the hot mushroom tip of his cock.

“Holy shit y/n-!”

You felt your cunt grow wet at the desperate sounds of pleasure that came from his mouth. You wanted to ruin him so bad. A loud whine escaped Usopp’s mouth as you took his full length down your throat. You brought your right hand up to cup his tight, heavy balls in your palm.

Usopp’s thighs and abs tense as you continue to work him in your mouth and your hands. Nothing but moans and heavy breaths left his lips. He had never felt anything like this before, cursing himself for being too… well chicken shit, to ask for your services before now.

“Y/n wait stop I’m going to-“

You used your left hand to grab his hip and press his body further into you as you took his cock in your mouth so far that your nose met him pelvis. Usopp whined as he released his heavy load down your throat. After several more ropes shot into your mouth, you pulled off Usopp’s dick as he flopped down back on the bed.

“Woah… I kinda get what Sanji’s been talking about now…” Usopp uttered as he stared at the ceiling. You chuckled as you snaked your body up his chest to give him a peck on the nose.

“What can I say? I’m a professional.” You cupped his face in your hand and winked at him. His expression changed.

“Wait… What about you?” Usopp looked up at you with concerned eyes. “Oh sweetie don’t you worry about that!.” You stroked his cheek.

“No… I said I wanted to make you feel good… can you… can you help me? Show me?” He desperately grabbed at your hips, grinding you down onto his cock that was already starting to harden again.

“Hm… If you insist…” You smiled devilishly and sat up on your knees and moved to hover over Usopp’s face, leaving your sopping cunt mere inches above his drooling lips. His eyes bugged wide out of his head, the sight of your gorgeous bare pussy so close to his face was too much for him to handle.

“Do you want to taste it, Usopp?” You teased at him, being barely out of his reach, not sitting down fully just yet.

“Mmm Yes! Yes just sit! Mmm please just sit down I’ll do whatever you want, just use me, please!” His speech was almost slurred due to him trying to reach his tongue out of his mouth to taste you already. You gave into his pleas and fully lowered your body onto his face. A breathy sigh of pleasure escaped your lips as his tongue prodded your weeping hole.

“Mmmprhh so-mrrph good!” Usopp whined out against your sex. He bucked his hips up shamelessly, already fully erect again. You leaned forward to grind your clit against the base of his nose while his tongue fucked your hole. You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned loudly.

“Ohhh, sweetie that’s so good! You’re so perfect for letting me use your pretty face like this. Such a good boy for eating me so well!” You praised him as you continued to ride his face, bringing yourself to orgasm.

“I’m going to cum on your face now, Usopp. You’re going to lay there and take it, right sweetheart?”

“Mhmm! Mhmm” He nodded his head as you finally pushed over the edge. Your slick juices sprayed his face and neck as you cried out. Usopp moaned underneath you as his tongue darted out of your hole to lap up any remaining release from your folds.

You collected yourself and slid your body back down his chest, your pussy dragged a wet trail down his torso as you moved. You hovered over his weeping cock, leaking a puddle of precum onto his toned abdomen.

“Would you like to fuck me now, Usopp?” You looked him square in the eye. He was so drunk on your body and pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, Please, I’d like to fuck you now! Please let me inside of you!” Once again he was begging beneath you. You could definitely get used to his. “Ok sweetheart, you can fuck me now. You’ve done so good.” You coo at him as you line his cock up with your soaked entrance and slide down. He wasn’t as long as Sanji or Zoro, but it was thick and hit your spot just right as you took him to the base inside yourself.

“Fuck-!” Usopp cries out as his hands fly to your hips to ground himself, so lost in the pleasure of your tight cunt.

“Sweetie you fill me up so nice, doing such a good job-“ You moaned out dreamily as you began to grind yourself back and forth on Usopp’s cock.

“Fuck y/n… I can’t… I just gotta…”

All of a sudden Usopp plants his feet and slams his hips up into yours making you almost jolt off his dick in the process. He hit you so deep.

“Usopp!” You cry out in both surprise and pleasure. You shudder forward and lose your balance, hands landing on his firm chest to hold yourself up. Usopp continues to piston his length inside of you at an animalistic pace as you felt that familiar tightness in your belly begin to form again.

“Shit, Usopp I- I think I’m gonna- AH!” He was bouncing you so forcefully on his cock, the soft, shy Usopp you knew was long gone as soon as he sunk balls deep into your filthy cunt. Your body was being tossed in the air with every thrust, your full breasts bouncing lewdly in his face. “Gotta feel you cum again… Fucking do it… Cum on me again…” Usopp growled out at you as he took your right nipple in his teeth. You cried out in pain and pleasure as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you so hard you knew you’d be left with black and blue marks where his fingers were now. You screamed out his name as you let your orgasm wash over your body and you released all over his lower half.

“Y/n, fuck, where should I-?” Usopp gasps out.

“Inside… Need… inside…” You choke out between gasps, your body still recovering from your orgasm.

Usopp groaned loudly as he pulled your hips down so far into his that you felt his cock kiss your cervix harshly. You whined as he shuddered and came deep inside of your still spasming pussy.

His body went limp. You leaned forward while he was still seated within you to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. You tried to as gently as possible remove yourself from his overly sensitive cock. He still groaned as you pulled yourself off of him, feeling his cum drip out of you onto his hip bone in the process. You laid down next to him and wrapped him in your arms. You pulled his down comforter over both of your naked bodies. You scratched his scalp as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around your lower back.

“SooOOOooo… What’dya think?” You giggled as you asked him how his first time was, already knowing the answer.

“Y/n it was-“

“GLAD YOU FINALLY GET IT, LOSER!” You both heard Zoro’s drunk, booming voice from outside Usopp’s bedroom door.

“FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!” Usopp shouted, briefly rising from his resting place in the crook of your neck.

You both laughed. You pecked him on the lips. “Goodnight, Usopp.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

You both quickly fell asleep in each others arms.

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snailspng · 1 year

Photo

Steampunk PNGs, part 3

(1. Gold clock / 2. Pistol / 3. Mechanical frog / 4. Steam air balloon / 5. Scrapbook by Jérôme Cavailles / 6. “Thing” recreated / 7. Walnut box with tiny cards (?) / 8. Clockwork spider / 9. Antique syringe (?))

#png #pngs #transparent #moodboard #artboard #image board #sticker #stickers #shoplook #polyvore #steampunk

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femininenachos · 22 days

Note

Hello lovely. I’ve been thinking about vacation au. Please tell me Clarke runs into Lexa swimming in some crystal clear Grecian water and wells has to close her mouth for her.

(Not quite, but close!)

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

By mid-morning the narrow streets near the harbour are already swarming with island hoppers fresh off the ferry. More line the quayside, waiting to board the day cruise that takes in the larger, more populous archipelago further down the coast. So-called ‘jewels of the Aegean’, they’re feted for being playgrounds of the rich and famous, boasting a slew of luxury resort hotels, designer boutiques and staggeringly expensive seafront restaurants.

For all its charm and scenic vistas, at least Polis has one foot in the real world. Here, craggy-faced fishermen and dock hands in scruffy overalls are hard at work unloading the morning’s catch, doing their best to ignore the clusters of tourists floating around, or at least tolerating their presence with stoic indifference.

And—it’s possible Clarke might be biased—Polis has Lexa, currently leading the charge like a woman on a mission. Clarke sticks close, her hand in Lexa’s sure grip, hurrying to match her loping strides as they make a beeline for the marina. Along the way they pass an assortment of small motorboats in all shapes and sizes, from dinghies and jet skis to skiffs and cabin cruisers and everything in between, until a gleaming white single-masted sailboat comes into view at last.

Clarke stops dead in her tracks on the cobblestones, fingers slipping from Lexa’s.

Her jaw drops.

“Is this yours?”

Lexa glances over and laughs at Clarke’s expression. “I make good tips, but not that much.”

She points to the modest vessel moored next to it, an open-top vintage deck boat with a walnut veneer interior and burnt orange leather upholstery that’s bleached from exposure to the sun and the salty sea air. ‘Spirit of Polis’ is written in blue cursive script on the hull.

“I mean, this one’s great too,” Clarke is quick to respond. She styles it out. “Not so flashy. Compact. Classic. Nice, uh, sleek lines.”

Lexa peers over the top of her sunglasses, lips subtly twisting to the side. “It belongs to my uncle, so you don’t have to worry about offending me or the boat.”

She puts down the cooler containing their provisions of cold drinks and extends a hand to help Clarke aboard. A little unsteady on her feet at first, Clarke holds on tightly for support while she finds her balance, shifting her weight to counteract the bobbing motion of the boat as water sloshes against the sides. Once she’s confident she isn’t going to fall flat on her face or, worse, into the harbour, she takes a few cautious steps to reach the small seating area at the rear. She shrugs off her tote bag to stow under the bench and situates herself, the sun-scorched leather burning hot against the backs of her thighs.

From this safe perch (and prime ogling spot), she watches Lexa collect the thick rope that tethers the boat, tossing it onto the deck before she gracefully hops across with the cooler and gets behind the controls. Full of poise at the helm, like it’s second nature to assume command, the signature pout in place as Lexa lifts her chin like she’s surveying her nautical domain.

It goes without saying that the whole preppy, boat-captain vibe is one hundred percent working in her favour.

Shades on. Hair spilling down her back in glossy chestnut waves, the ends getting whipped around by the wind. Appealing in her pale pink button-down worn over a snug white tank. Shirt open and catching the light breeze, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a hint of muscle definition and the ink that encircles her bicep. Tight little navy blue shorts hug her hips and ass in ways that are about to cause a major international incident at sea, because Clarke is far from looking respectfully.

“Ready?”

When her eyes snap up, she spies the half-smile on Lexa’s side profile, as though she detects the unholy thirst emanating from mere feet away.

Clarke gives a slow, absentminded nod, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as her eyes make another involuntary sweep down Lexa’s form.

“Clarke.”

She gets a hold of herself, breathing in deeply, and with it the spell is broken.

“Mm? Oh, yeah,” she says, feeling a resurgent wiggle of anticipation about this mystery adventure they’re about to embark on together. All Lexa was willing to divulge when they met is that it’s Polis’s best-kept secret, a spot known only to locals, unreachable except by boat, and so far unspoiled by tourists. Clarke had feigned offense on the last point, but soon dropped the act when Lexa tilted in for a kiss that went on and on and made her stomach clench. Each time Clarke started to retreat, Lexa would chase her mouth and draw her back in for more.

Her lips are still tingling.

(Both sets.)

“At least give me a hint about where we’re going?”

The enigmatic smirk that plays around Lexa’s mouth widens a fraction. “I thought you liked surprises.”

“Oh, I do. But I’m also stubborn as hell and won’t take no for an answer, so jot that down.”

It earns a laugh, one Clarke is fast becoming enamoured with, and she can’t control the warm tingle that goes through her when she hears it or the rush of elation she gets from bringing a rare grin to Lexa’s face.

“Good to know,” Lexa says as she reaches for the ignition key. Her next words are almost lost to the splutter and chug of the engine before it roars to life. “I like a challenge.”

~*~

Within an hour, they reach a small, secluded cove surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs, the ancient rock sculpted by wind and waves, where sparse scatterings of tall, rugged pines sprout precariously from narrow ledges in defiance of the elements.

It appears like a mirage, shimmering into view: a bay of dreamy, pristine, white-gold sands and crystal clear turquoise waters, serene and inviting, and there isn’t a soul in sight. The closest thing they had to company was the pod of dolphins they spotted off the starboard (Clarke learned) side about twenty minutes ago. She’d gasped and clutched Lexa’s arm, bouncing on her heels in sheer delight. But it was the look they shared, brimming with joy and something unaccountably softer and fonder, that made it all the more magical, the moment already locked into Clarke’s memory.

“What do you think?” Lexa asks.

Lost for words, Clarke shakes her head in silent awe.

She turns to Lexa, and the smile Lexa directs at her, eyes bright and glowing in the sunlight, leaves her just as speechless. When Clarke finds her voice at last, it comes out thick, clogged with emotion; touched and amazed by the incredible beauty of what she sees—the place, and the woman who brought her here. So moved that she’s dangerously close to shedding a tear, her vision glazing over.

She blinks the moisture away.

“It’s…” She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. Lifts her eyebrows. “Wow.”

She doesn’t second guess the impulse to wrap an arm around Lexa’s waist, to plant a soft, grateful kiss on her jaw.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Full lips twitch at the corners. “My pleasure.”

With one hand resting on the wheel, Lexa drapes her free arm around Clarke’s shoulders. They remain like that, Clarke hugging Lexa’s side and taking in the spectacular scenery as Lexa guides the boat in at a steady rate of knots.

“I can’t believe this place has stayed under the radar. You’d think tour operators would be running excursions out here every hour until sunset.”

“Clarke.” Lexa grows serious all of a sudden, and that only makes Clarke want to kiss her again. Coax another smile. “You must promise not to tell anyone. It’s how we preserve it for future generations.”

Clarke schools her features, pretending to match Lexa’s gravity.

“Well… it’ll cost you. My silence doesn’t come cheap.”

The slight frown Lexa wears smooths out as soon as she catches on. A quizzical eyebrow flexes in a way that’s rudely attractive.

“Name your price, but don’t forget I work in hospitality.”

“I’m not interested in your money, Lexa. What I want” - Clarke trails her hand over Lexa’s hip and the perfect curve of her backside to give it a slow, purposeful squeeze, relishing Lexa’s intake of breath and the darkening of her gaze as she glances at Clarke’s lips - “is you.”

She meant to say “your body” but she doesn’t correct the verbal slip. Because, yeah, she does want to bend Lexa into all kinds of shapes like a pretzel, but she also has a deep desire to learn more about Lexa as a person, to find out what makes her tick, beyond what she likes to do in bed.

Lexa takes it in stride regardless, easing back into the confidence she has in spades.

Something about the slope of her smile signals she’s about to gain the upper hand.

She shrugs.

“Okay, deal.”

The enduring gleam in Lexa’s eyes before she turns her attention back to the sea gives Clarke palpitations. Her pulse thunders in her ears, drowning out the engine noise and the crash of the boat breaking the waves.

~*~

They drop anchor a short distance from the shore, an easy swim from the dazzling white sands. Not yet ready to take a dip, preferring to bake in the heat for a while first, Clarke spreads a large beach towel on the deck for sunbathing. She senses Lexa’s attention on her as she shimmies out of her shorts and shucks her loose tee to reveal the red halter neck two-piece that Octavia helped pick out after breakfast.

(“Hellooo, mama,” Octavia had drawled after Clarke emerged from the en suite and gave a reluctant twirl. She’d let out a low whistle as she ran her eyes up and down. “Almost wish I was tagging along just to watch Sexy Lexy’s head spin 360-degrees before it explodes. The twins ain’t playing.”)

At the time, Clarke had rolled her eyes and fought a blush but she’s glad she went with O’s suggestion.

Aware of her present captive audience, she proceeds to get comfortable on her back. One knee bent, an arm tucked behind her head as a pillow, showing off her best assets like a 1950s calendar pinup girl. Even behind the dark tinted lenses of her sunglasses, she sees Lexa’s eyes hungrily trace the shape of her body. Clarke basks in it, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth, secure in the knowledge that she’s not just a snack, she’s the whole damn meal, and Lexa looks like she wants to devour every last crumb.

But Clarke’s smugness is short-lived, because in the next moment she’s the one left gawking when Lexa wordlessly strips down to the skimpiest pair of bikini bottoms and not a stitch else, brow quirking up as she peers over her shoulder then dives off the deck, slicing through the water with barely a splash.

Clarke quickly levers up onto her elbows to watch Lexa surface seconds later, hair slicked back and plastered to her skull, a sly little tilt to her lips as she treads water.

“Come on in. The temperature is perfect,” she calls out, looking every inch the siren that lures thirsty sapphic sailors to their deaths.

Clarke tries to cling on to the last vestiges of composure she has remaining.

“Gonna work on my tan for a little bit.”

The pout returns and she laughs, “Soon!”

Grabbing the tube of sunscreen from her nearby tote, she squeezes a large dollop into her palm. While Lexa does slow laps around the boat, Clarke liberally reapplies the lotion, slathering it on until all the exposed skin within reach is covered.

Before long, she hears Lexa climb the ladder onto the swim platform, accompanied by the rush of water cascading off her body as she rises out of the sea.

The soft slap of wet footfalls draws nearer.

“Lex?” Clarke twists around. “Could you do my—”

She stalls mid-sentence, only cognizant of her fingers closing hard around the tube in her hand when a spurt of lotion shoots out, splattering across her thigh and the towel.

She doesn’t even flinch.

All Clarke can do is gape and stare, watching rivulets of water run down the slope of Lexa’s bare chest. Eyes drawn inexorably to taut nipples and golden skin that glistens under the sun, to the long, lean lines of Lexa and the scrap of luminous orange fabric that sits low on her hips.

Clarke’s belly tightens, arousal flaring hot between her legs.

(A voice in her head that sounds disturbingly like Wells tells her to close her mouth.)

She has to remind herself to breathe.

Is thankful for the oversized shades that partially mask her expression, because she isn’t in control of what her face is doing right now. But if Lexa’s lip-bitten smile is any indication, it’s a lost cause anyway.

Casually wringing the water out of her hair as she approaches, Lexa glances at the milky white streak on Clarke’s inner thigh.

“Not the first time I’ve made a girl squirt.”

Clarke mutters a sarcastic “ha ha”, rubs the lotion into her skin, then wipes her hands on the edge of the towel before she reclines again. She fakes nonchalance when Lexa sinks down beside her, but it’s impossible to ignore the butterflies.

She rolls her shoulders and stares at the sky above, fixating on the solitary vapour trail that cuts across the endless blue.

“Speaking of previous liaisons... do you bring all your conquests here?” She’s mostly kidding, but there’s an undercurrent of needing to know too. She peers at Lexa. “Or am I one of the lucky few?”

A slow shake of Lexa’s head before she leans over on her elbow, closing in and partially blocking the sun, and Clarke’s skepticism must be plain to see, because Lexa looks so intensely sincere now, no trace of a smile or any disingenuousness when she says: “It’s the truth, I swear.”

Still, Clarke has her doubts. There’s no way Lexa isn’t tripping over hot women throwing themselves at her feet and this boat trip is too well-orchestrated not to be a tried and tested seduction technique.

Clarke peels off her shades to look Lexa square in the eye, and that frank, steady gaze pierces straight through her.

“I mean it, Clarke.”

The space between them shrinks.

Lexa’s pupils dilate as her focus shifts to parted lips. “You’re special.”

Water drips off the ends of Lexa’s hair onto Clarke’s shoulder and chest, and whatever rebuttal she had dies in her throat. She’s the one to reach out, gripping Lexa by the neck to tug her the rest of the way and kiss her like Clarke’s been dreaming of all morning.

As soon as Lexa throws a long leg over Clarke to straddle her, knees bracketing her hips, she needs no further convincing.

It’s on.

She dips her tongue inside Lexa’s mouth and slides both hands up Lexa’s rib cage to cup her breasts, a shiver running through Clarke when she feels the hard poke of nipples against her palms. She kneads, and the low, throaty noise it earns her sets her nerves alight, warm tingles suffusing her body.

They kiss deeply, greedily.

They kiss until Clarke has to drag her mouth away to gulp down some air, only to have the oxygen punched out of her lungs once again when Lexa uses the opportunity to shove her bikini bottoms off, scoop her mane of wet hair to one side and resettle against Clarke’s thigh. With her hands planted on either side of Clarke’s shoulders, Lexa holds herself up as she starts to work along the tensed muscle.

The slick, molten feel of Lexa, sliding against her skin, riding Clarke, makes her burn. She lurches up into the next kiss, hungrily reclaiming Lexa’s mouth, urging her on with a grip on her ass, and that shaky little hitch of breath in the back of Lexa’s throat whenever the friction gets her just right succeeds in getting Clarke wetter and wetter too. At this rate, she might come before Lexa does, and the odds only increase when Lexa takes Clarke’s hand and guides it between her legs.

“Use your fingers.”

Another surge of heat floods through Clarke at the instruction, hearing the normally smooth, modulated tone of Lexa’s voice roughed by need.

Clarke studies Lexa’s face, watching for the tiny flickers of reaction as she runs her fingers lower, fascinated by each and every twitch and jolt and slight gasp as she explores. She dips in and drags the wetness up to swirl around Lexa’s clit and is rewarded by the sharp jerk of Lexa’s hips and quite possibly the dirtiest kiss of Clarke’s entire life. She needs no prompting to slide through slick heat to tease at Lexa’s entrance again, fingertips doing a couple of slow swirls before she pauses.

For a beat they remain suspended in a freeze frame of anticipation. Each holding still, a breath caught in their throats.

On the exhale Clarke pushes inside.

And fuck, she missed this. Touching yourself is great and all, empowering, fantastic for stress relief, et cetera. But nothing beats the sound another woman makes when you enter her for the first time, when you hear that shaky intake of breath and you feel her clench around your fingers.

“Good?” Clarke asks.

Lexa nods, bottom lip held between her teeth as she looks down at Clarke with hooded eyes, the green of her irises nearly eclipsed by black.

Part of Clarke can’t quite believe this is her reality. That she’s buried to the knuckles and Lexa is moving on her, rolling to meet the steady pump of her wrist.

She glances between their bodies and a groan escapes, another sharp twist of lust coiling in the pit of her stomach once her eyes fasten on her own two fingers coated with Lexa’s arousal, fucking into her. But Clarke pries her eyes away, roving over tight abdominals, taking in the curves of Lexa’s tits and the jut of her nipples, torn between wanting them in her mouth and watching her fingers disappear inside again.

It’s Lexa’s half-stifled whimper when Clarke’s thumb finds her clit that sharpens her focus.

Winding her arm around Lexa’s lower back, Clarke sits them upright and swiftly brings their lips together. The abrupt change of angle has Lexa gasping hotly into her mouth. Again, louder, when Clarke’s palm rubs in. Lexa grips her by the shoulder and the back of her neck, blunt nails digging in as Lexa grinds down harder, faster, speeding towards the climax—the first of many, if Clarke has her way—sucking in short, sharp gasps while Clarke keeps pace, despite it being hell on her wrist.

They’re hardly kissing at all now, mouths hanging slack and sharing the same air, noses pressing into cheeks as they pant against one another’s lips.

She soon feels the first flutters, the growing tension in Lexa’s form, the choppy motion of Lexa’s hips and the careless scratch of her nails at Clarke’s nape. She curls the tips of her fingers on each partial drag out then slams back in, lifting Lexa an inch off her lap with each thrust. Clarke keeps the heel of her palm tight against Lexa’s clit, the pressure firm and constant, and in the next collection of halting, rapid breaths, Lexa’s whole frame pulls taut. A ragged cry is torn from her throat and she clenches hard, coming in a hot spill around Clarke’s fingers. Lexa shudders through it, a tremble in her jaw when she catches Clarke’s mouth in a fierce, bruising kiss, licking into her with a groan that makes Clarke gush in turn.

They remain in a heavy lip lock long after the tremors subside, neither inclined to separate. Restless hands weave through Clarke’s hair then seek out her curves, roaming down her chest with purpose, pushing under the top half of her swimsuit. She gives a low hum of approval when Lexa’s thumbs roll over the tight tips of her nipples, the ache mirrored in the dull, pulsing emptiness between her legs.

She feels close to orgasm already, like if she got even the tiniest bit of friction she’d go off like a rocket. Just a small shift of her hand to grind against her own knuckles would do it. But the way Lexa is touching her breasts, palms running all over, teasing her nipples into stiff, hypersensitive points, might be enough to get Clarke there.

And all the while, she’s still inside Lexa. Fucking her lazily with slow presses of her fingers, incapable of much more vigour when her wrist is screaming. She’s debating what to do next, whether to withdraw and flip Lexa onto her back for round two or continue like this, when a distant droning noise intrudes, faintly audible above the gentle lap of water, the thick, wet squelch of Clarke’s hand working between Lexa’s thighs, and their combined heavy breathing.

Growing more distracted by the second, Clarke draws her mouth away. She squints at the horizon beneath the shade of her free hand while warm lips meander along her jaw and down her neck.

She ceases her movements, despite Lexa’s meaningful buck of her hips and the subsequent small growl of complaint when Clarke fails to take the hint.

“What’s—” Teeth nip at the fading hickey on her throat and she gasps, hand flying to tangle in Lexa’s damp, curling hair. But as the object begins to resolve itself, Clarke tenses for a different reason. “Is that a boat?”

Lexa abandons her sulk to look too.

A white shape is rapidly approaching, throwing up sea spray, sunlight glinting off the surface and the waves and making it difficult to discern from this distance until… oh. Oh, yeah.

Letting out a string of (presumably) expletives in her native tongue, Lexa scrambles off Clarke to scoop up the clothes strewn across the deck. She pulls on her tank top, yanks the shorts up her legs, and has just enough time to arrange herself into a casual pose beside Clarke before the other boat reaches them. The occupants are obnoxiously young; late teens or early twenties, as far as Clarke can tell from a distance; a bunch of bikini-clad girls and lanky guys in board shorts hanging off one another as music blasts.

She sighs inwardly. Grits her teeth and refrains from giving them the middle finger while they whoop and cheer in passing, beer bottles held aloft as they thunder towards the wooden jetty.

So much for the sexy beach idyll. Clearly, not everyone has such reverence for the tranquility of this spot.

“Shall we stay a while or…?” Clarke hedges.

Lexa purses her lips and casts her stormy gaze around, jaw working side to side in rotation, but a gentle touch on her leg pulls her focus back to Clarke.

Consternation softens into regret.

“You didn’t even get a chance to swim or feel the sand between your toes.”

“I’ll cope. Besides…” Clarke wets her lips and drops into a huskier register. “It wasn’t a total bust.”

Lexa’s mouth twitches, clearly fighting a smile, and to Clarke that’s a win.

“Come on, don’t let these pesky teens ruin our hot date,” she continues in a playful tone. “I bet you have a few aces up your sleeve; other favourite haunts to wow the ladies with.”

One shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. “We do have the boat for the rest of the day. I could take you somewhere else. For lunch, if you’re hungry yet?”

Clarke gives a noncommittal hum, lightly trailing her wet fingers along the soft skin of Lexa’s inner thigh. “I could eat.”

The suggestive undertone isn’t lost in translation. Their eyes meet and Clarke dares to make it explicit.

“But lunch wasn’t what I had in mind… unless we’re counting pussy as a food group.”

Lexa loses the battle against keeping her smile under control. The tips of her ears are tinged pink. “Are Americans always so forward?”

“Um, I don’t recall any shyness on your part two nights ago.”

Dainty little ears burn brightly while Lexa’s smile grows, becoming toothier, and Clarke just wants to smooch that perfect face all day long.

“Anyway, I prefer the term ‘go-getter.’ As in, I see someone I want and I go get her.”

A pained groan. “I should leave you stranded on the beach for that.”

“Hey!” Clarke swats at Lexa’s knee in retaliation, but Lexa catches her hand, holding it captive. Clarke sniffs for dramatic effect. “I was going to let you strip me out of this bathing suit later, but now I’m strongly reconsidering.”

“If it helps sway your decision, I’d definitely appreciate seeing you naked again.”

“And how would you show your gratitude?”

“Mm. At least three times, and maybe twice more with the strap if you’re into toys.”

God.

“Okay. Alright. Well, lucky for you, I’m kind of dying for you to fuck me so I guess that clinches it.”

It’s about as far from playing it cool as could be, but Clarke doesn’t care. The truth is she’s soaked, aching for relief, and she isn’t picky about whichever method Lexa might use to get her off, as long as it happens soon.

Eyes flashing dark, Lexa cups a hand behind Clarke’s neck and pulls her mouth to hers. Clarke reacts without thought, already opening up to accept the slide of Lexa’s tongue before her brain catches up and she remembers they’re not alone.

Cracking an eye open, she’s relieved to see nobody on the other boat appears to be paying them any attention. She attempts to evade the next kiss, only for Lexa to pursue it more doggedly, and that makes Clarke smile even as she lays a palm on Lexa’s chest to gently hold off her advance. The mini pout on Lexa’s face when they pull apart is a treat, and Clarke can’t conceal her enjoyment of it. Unable to resist the lure, she steals one final peck.

For a few indulgent seconds, she luxuriates in the softness of Lexa’s full bottom lip, until it dawns on her that an hour-long return journey stands between them and more orgasms, and she sighs.

“Why isn’t teleportation a real thing yet? Having to wait a full 60 minutes to get you under me is so unfair.”

Slowly, with the greatest delicacy and patience, Lexa brushes their noses together, one side then the other, nudging the tip before she withdraws. Despite the sun beating down on her back, it gives Clarke chills, shivers running down her neck and arms. For the duration she just holds still and melts while her stomach flips, and the butterflies that had lain dormant return in full force.

When she opens her eyes, she’s greeted by the slight, sloping smile on Lexa’s lips and her stomach does another somersault.

“I’m starting to think you’re only interested in me for sex,” Lexa says lightly.

Clarke lets out a small scoff. “You’re the one with a one-track mind. I was minding my own business, soaking up the rays, until you pounced.”

“Can you blame me?”

Lexa’s heated stare roves over several inches of cleavage before she forcibly drags her eyes back up.

“Actually… I have a confession to make.” She draws that plush bottom lip, still slightly swollen and red from kissing, between her teeth. “I dropped a tray of drinks at work yesterday because I had a flashback to you sitting on my face. Anya yelled at me and I didn’t even give a fuck that she deducted it from my tips.”

Heat rises in Clarke’s cheeks, triggered by her own vivid recollection of events. She won’t forget it in a hurry and she’s flattered to hear it was just as memorable for Lexa too. But also, it feels like a point of pride that she made Lexa’s cool girl veneer slip, even if she wasn’t there to witness it in person.

“Now I feel partly responsible for this tragic loss of earnings and broken glassware.”

“I said you were trouble.”

They inch closer, eyes glued to lips, their breath hot on one another’s faces.

“How can I make it up to you?” Clarke asks.

“I have some ideas.”

Her mind can’t help going to the aforementioned strap.

All smiles, they surrender to the magnetic pull. The world around them recedes. There’s only Lexa’s mouth on hers, soft yet urgent, and the tingles that erupt all over, Clarke’s pulse accelerating when long fingers thread into her hair again.

And it’s sublime.

Close to perfection.

She can almost hear the swell of imaginary violins soundtracking the moment—until a smattering of shrill wolf whistles pierces through the bliss.

The kiss breaks on a huff of shared, quiet laughter. Clarke’s eyes slide across to the jetty, where they’re being enthusiastically toasted by their neighbours. She groans and drops her forehead to Lexa’s shoulder, breathing in the saltwater, sun-warmed scent of her before showing her face again.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Clarke says.

The long, lidded look Lexa favours her with, eyes shaded darker by desire and the hint of some deeper emotion that feels altogether too big, too soon to acknowledge, has Clarke battling the urge to launch herself at Lexa’s lips again, regardless of the unwanted spectators nearby.

“Keep that up, Lex, and they might really have something to holler about—and possibly livestream on the internet.”

A faint smile reappears. “What am I doing, Clarke?”

“Looking. Giving me those” - she gestures vaguely - “eyes.”

It loosens a small laugh. Lexa lowers her gaze and Clarke regrets mentioning it now, because it feels like the sun momentarily disappearing behind the clouds when Lexa’s thrilling, singular focus isn’t on her.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Lexa looks up, and the restored eye contact makes Clarke’s blood pump faster.

She lets out the breath she was holding. “Maybe I like it more than I should, considering.”

“Considering…?”

“I won’t be here next week.”

Pragmatic; matter-of-fact. A reality check and a casual reminder they both need to hear before they throw themselves headlong into… whatever this thing is between them: it has an expiration date.

In the lull, Lexa scans every millimetre of Clarke’s face and she hopes the nerves don’t show through the front she’s putting on.

After a moment, the corner of Lexa’s mouth lifts into a smirk, but it seems slightly forced. Her eyes are more pebbly, neutral grey than green. “Then let’s make sure you have good memories to take home with you.”

#vacation au #cool for the summer #clexa fic #my fic

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