vincentnikolaev.
Vince wants to take back the whole tip response once she calls him on it – needless to say he hadn’t realized how dumb it sounded. “ Shit, “ He whispers, quietly laughing to himself, “ Okay, you got me. My comeback was garbage. “ Admitting it might sting, but he isn’t above accepting when he’s wrong.
Pivoting on a foot – only realizing that she’d might’ve been staring at him in retrospect – he swipes a mason jar up off kitchen’s dark, marble counter. “ We’ve got this, “ He says as she goes on about the message he’d sent by mistake, unscrewing the lid & stopping halfway once she decides to be … jarringly forward. “ Oh, uh, what? “ Vincent laughs, entertaining a few indecent thoughts for a brief, fleeting moment.
His eyes stay on her’s, & he places the half opened jar back onto the counter. “ That’s, “ There’s a pause, thinking for a moment that she’s just fucking with him, “ Is this you trying to get free weed? “
Mia’s always been honest in a way of her own---in the most unapologetic way. Her body shifts, her weight leaning against the cool steel of his fridge, its hum emitting loud enough for her to just hear it.
Reading his body language isn’t hard---he’s confused, maybe even a little ENTICED by her words. Sure, there’s a hint of fabrication on how much the twenty-four-year-old enjoyed the picture, but it doesn’t thwart the conversation.
Thin arms cross over her chest as she breaks their gaze for mere seconds to turn her attention to the half-opened jar full of her fix. ❛ If I wanted to get free weed, I’d offer you a blowjob. I mean, what man can turn down a blowjob from someone who’s as talented at it as Deadpool is as talented as getting Peter Parker to hate him. ❜
