#found it last summer in storage

[lovelyisadora]

How's it going bestie

not well!!! nothing has changed for better or for worse so it’s thankfully a constant state of not well though dldjsjajajah

[lostjulys]

for a guy whose thing is affecting that he is not bothered by anything. i sure am bothered by things!!!!!

[wileys-russo]

the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

its missing jenni hours, little mini series incoming the summer tenant (1) II j.hermoso

"sí sí sí i am forever in your debt león. happy?" you laughed, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder as you weighed your carry on, breathing a sigh of relief when it didn't breach the limit for your flight.

"i will be happy when you finally come home!" your best friend whined making you roll your eyes. "my ass is on its way maría, and tu culo better pick me up later!" you warned, muting her for a moment as you stepped up to the front desk and gave your details, boarding pass printed and handed over.

"no i am not thanking you, i was getting my boarding pass. my stuff is all accounted for sí? it arrived safely?" you frowned in worry, this entire process having been anything but smooth.

"sí amiga, just like i told you yesterday and every other day you've asked everything is in boxes ready to be unpacked once you move, and there is just a few things and files and boxes still in storage at your old place in the garage." mapi promised as you exhaled, hovering by the security check knowing you'd need to hang up before going through, promising mapi to call her the moment you landed before ending the call.

you'd grown up in zaragoza, a few houses down from the dirty blonde you'd been practically attached to like a siamese twin almost your whole life. as you got older you'd moved to madrid to go to university, and then to barcelona for better career opportunities once you graduated.

though for the last three years you'd been living in portugal, a dream job when it arose far too tempting to pass as much as it hurt you to move away from your life, friends and family all still scattered around spain.

you of course returned home to visit but once you'd fallen in love the visits had been few and far between, your life becoming split in two as you had anchors tying you down in either country, admittedly maybe allowing the one in portugal a little too much influence.

which is why it hurt so much when that anchor was suddenly cut loose, almost drowning you in the aftermath of what you'd describe as your first real heartbreak.

so licking your wounds you found yourself with a choice, to stay and soldier through the tattered remains of your life in portugal or retreat back to spain with your tail between your legs and into the arms of the rest of your support circle.

the choice was one you probably made a little too fast once your best friend sweet talked the right people and popped up on her weekend off with a job offer and a plan, more than ready to drag you back home.

it hadn't been the easiest of processes, you'd given your two weeks in at your job which turned into four and then into six so you could adequately train your replacement and smoothly handover your client list.

right after the breakup mapi had convinced you to let her rent out your old place in barcelona for some extra income while you weren't sure how long you'd still be in portugal, your now ex quite the well respected lawyer meant you'd come off with much less than you deserved in assets after the split.

you were crashing with a coworker and slowly shipping your belongings home to meet you whenever you could finally leave all this mess behind you.

though really your old place was too large for just you and though you were returning home you wanted a fresh start which meant a new place, mapi offering for you to stay with her while you searched for the right one.

between her and her girlfriend they technically had an apartment each in the same building, though they spent majority of their time in ingrids which was set up best, mapi's used more as a storage locker which is why she was more than happy to let you stay there temporarily.

and with all sorts of tourists flocking to the warm beaches of barcelona for the summer it made sense that you wring out a little extra money from your old place before putting it on the market.

so now finally free from all that tied you to portugal bar a few friendships you suspected may eventually die out with the distance, and almost all of your belongings safely back in spain, it was time for you to join them.

"estás bromeando." you snickered in disbelief as you exited the terminal, spotting the sign and balloons right away and praying they weren't for you. but of course knowing your family, no such luck.

"i am suddenly wishing i lied about which flight i took." you called out with a shake of your head, a cheeky grin and a blur of tattoos and tan skin darting in front of you before a body was slamming you nearly to the ground.

"hola amiga." you exhaled happily, squeezing the footballer just as tightly as you gave her girlfriend a wave who was hanging back with a smile. "mejor amiga." mapi corrected, pulling away and sloppily kissing your cheek making you grimace and push her away.

"you drove all the way here to pick me up? i told you i could come see you on the weekend!" you laughed at your parents, knowing it was almost a four hour journey from your childhood home where they still lived to the airport they were stood in now.

"it has been many years we have prayed for this day hija, let us enjoy it." your mami smiled warmly as you hugged them both next, exhaling happily at the rapid spanish which floated around the air.

you greeted ingrid next, having met the girl many times despite no longer living here, often teasing your best friend that should they break up you'd actually take ingrids side since she was so lovely, but really you adored seeing her so loved up and well treated by the norweigan.

"welcome home from prison? maría!" you groaned, the defender hiding behind her girlfriend making both yours and ingrids eyes roll. "it was his idea!" her finger reached around and pointed to your papi who shrugged with a smile that said it all.

~

"and you told her i was coming to grab some things?" you clarified with mapi who hummed in confirmation. the footballer had been doing the majority of the communication with your tenant in your old place considering until now you'd been in another country and she had set the whole thing up anyway.

you'd tried to offer her some money for all of her help which all that earned you was a firm punch to the arm and a warning not to be stupid, reminding you that family always helps family and doesn't expect anything in return.

"sí sí she said she wouldn't be home anyway, and you are only needing to access the garage so you will not be entering the house." mapi assured as you nodded, telling her to text you what she wanted you to grab from the market on your way back before ending the call.

stupidly mislabeling a few boxes had meant you were missing a large amount of clothing, and though both ingrid and mapi assured you were free to wear anything of theirs you already felt like you were asking too much of them staying with them anyway.

besides a lot of your more work appropriate clothes were what was missing and due to start this new role in a few days time and anything but a patient woman you were quite eager to get your ducks in a line.

"oh come on!" you grunted, having twisted the key in the garage door but struggling to pull it open, something that had pained you for years. a waterfall of curse words fell from your lips as your frustration grew and you strained to tug it open, hope fasting fading.

"you know robbers do not usually make so much noise?" you jumped at a voice behind you, dropping the door and spinning around with a startled expression.

"lo siento. i am not a robber, i am-" you tried to explain but the taller girl waved off your words. "the owner, sí? i spoke to mapi this morning." she smiled charmingly, pearly white teeth bared in amusement.

"i am jenni, your tenant." she added on with a grin holding out a heavily tattooed hand as you nodded in understanding and properly introduced yourself. "trouble with the door? there is a trick." she held up a finger and nodding for you to move aside.

you frowned curiously but did as she asked, watching as she twisted the key and popped her shoulder into the door, your eyebrows shooting up nearly as fast as the door was opened. "fácil!" she winked and gestured inside.

"i lived here for nearly five years and-" you mumbled with an annoyed huff. "-and i live here for a few weeks and know all the tricks." jenni laughed, hovering just outside as you squatted down and began to move through boxes.

"something like that." you sent her a smile over your shoulder. "i promise i will get everything out soon, my car is still in portugal and its the last thing to come back and-" you stopped yourself realizing a complete stranger would be the last person to care.

"and i do not need to be wasting more of your time, lo siento." you shook your head, finding the box you needed and tugging it up and out. "no need to apologise. you are from barcelona?" jenni asked curiously as you shook your head.

"zaragoza, but i have been living in portugal for the last few years." you answered with a polite smile. "mm then how did you end up with a house in barcelona?" jenni questioned, lips curled upward and eyes scanning you up and down.

"my mami taught me not to talk to strangers." you teased making her laugh. "so did mine but here i am letting one into my garage." jenni pointed out as you now laughed. "my garage, technically." you shrugged, noticing a large motorcycle in the corner of the garage.

"pulling the landlord card querida? vale vale. well i have paperwork we both signed though that says for another four and a half months it is my garage." jenni reminded with a grin to which you couldn't argue.

"do you ride?" you asked nodding curiously toward the bike. "what happened to not talking to strangers? i cannot ask how you ended up in barcelona but you can ask me about my bike?" jenni gasped mockingly as you rolled your eyes.

"well you just answered my question anyway." you smiled picking up the box of clothes and moving back outside as jenni effortlessly reached up and grabbed the roller door to bring it back down, something you needed a ladder for which was oddly attractive.

jenni herself was quite attractive, the way her bright eyes followed you and rose pink links curved into an alluring smile, not to mention each of her long limbs covered in even more tattoos than mapi as she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a plain white oversized shirt.

you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a second stranger who came storming out of the house, flipping the girl in front of you off and practically diving into a car speeding away making you frown as the other girl in front of you rolled her eyes.

"friend of yours?" you asked with a raised eyebrow as jenni shrugged. "something like that. would you like to come in for a drink?" the abruptness of her question catching you off guard as you opened and closed your mouth.

"i don't think-" you started, placing down the box as jenni cut you off. "you know if you have a drink with me, i will not be a stranger anymore. didn't your mami also teach you about manners and hospitality?" jenni challenged making you scoff but smile.

"my plans for the evening just ditched me, i already started dinner. it is rude to make someone eat and drink alone you know!" jenni tutted, stepping forward and picking up the box for you before you could protest.

"vamos, i promise i am a good cook and an even better host."

~

and as you woke up that next morning in a bedroom both familiar and unfamiliar, you knew her words to be true.

you could smell coffee as you rubbed your eyes and sat up, you heard the door open and tugged the covers up to hide your naked chest, jenni strolling in with a steaming mug.

"how did you know?" you smiled, always starting your day with coffee as the taller girl gave you an add look. "how did i know i wanted coffee?" she chuckled taking a sip as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your assumption.

"what time is it?" you asked with a stretch, bending down and snaking your shirt from the floor, slipping it over your head. "eleven, you really slept in." jenni hummed, leaning against the doorframe as bright green eyes drunk you in.

"sorry." you chuckled, completely missing the slightly awkward silence in the air as jenni stepped forward. "your box of stuff is by the door, get dressed and you should go." the girl shrugged, turning on heel and heading out of the room as your mouth opened in shock.

none the less you hurried to collect your clothes, pulling them on and following after her.

"you know landlords should not really sleep with tenants." jenni tutted with a smirk, pulling herself up and onto the counter as you forced your eyes not to roam her half naked body, flashes of last night where it was pressed against you flickering through your mind.

you scoffed and crossed your arms, opening your mouth to let her have it but she spoke first. "whats wrong bebé? not the normal coffee and breakfast waiting for you afterwards that you are used to? i am not that type of girl." jenni chuckled sipping from her mug.

"but last night we talked about so many things and-" "had sex? sí, and we both got something out of that no? now you should really go, technically a landlord cannot be here without the tenants permission." jenni smirked as you could only scoff.

not gracing her with another word you turned on heel and headed for the front door, hearing her footsteps pad after you as you made a swift exit. you paused as you heard a sharp whistle, slowly turning around.

"did you just whistle at me like a dog?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms and making her chuckle where she leaned against the door. "you forgot your box." she nodded downward at her feet as you stiffened, swallowing your pride and making your way back toward her.

you glared at her as she simply smiled charmingly, sipping at her coffee as you picked up the box and turned again, storming down the path.

though a second wind brewing as you reached the end you shook your head, spinning to give her a piece of your mind but it was too late, the front door already clicking closed as you heard the turn of the lock.

"puta."

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Kid of Candles

Jason Todd has been living on the streets for a while now. Ever since his mom overdosed, he's been struggling to find shelter. He was doing better in the summer and fall, but now bitter winter had come to Gotham, and it was taking everything he had not to freeze to death.

There were a lot of kids like him and even more that went to sleep but never woke up after a snowstorm. Jason is still tiny, and very new, and that means he's an easier target. He has met kids who pretend to be kind in order to steal from him but he's also met some who were willing to share what little they had.

He wouldn't call them friends. Just other survivors. He is currently in a camp created by these survivors. Street kids have carved their own place on the streets simply by staying alive the longest, and casually they allow the smaller ones in for the bad weather with the understanding that the younger ones were to leave as soon as the sun was up.

He is trying to warm up next to the lit fire by one of the older street kids when a teenager stands on a little crate. The teenager starts tapping a piece of wood against a small amount of metal like they are trying to make a toast.

He's unsure about their gender; they always tell people they are not a girl or a boy, but they are the leader of the little pack of street urchins and the only ones willing to share the small blankets.

They go by Rowan, and Rowan adores campfire stories as if they were just some rich kids paying to go out into the woods and sleep in tents instead of shivering unwanted brats sleeping on rolled-up newspapers. Some street kids groan and roll their eyes, but not Jason.

Rowan's stories are the closest he can get now to books. Before, he would read and escape to the magical world found among letters away from his mother's addiction and the worsening living conditions. Books were his comfort and one of the things he missed the most from his home.

"Gather around, gather around children, and listen to the tale of the Kid of Candles!" Rowan starts, cracking their voice into a gleeful cackle. The older ones scoff, but the younger kids all turn their attention to the ringleader.

Jason moves away from the fire to sit right in front of the crate, pulling his knees to his chest as he settles. Someone takes his spot by the fire, and he hopes the story is worth the loss. "Long ago, when Gotham was first founded by Captain Jon Logerquist, he claimed to follow a bright white light that led him right to Gotham River after suffering the loss of his entire crew to a sea storm. He would have died had he not lit the last candle on the ship- a black candle. The candle attracted the attention of a unique child, who appeared on his deck among the bright light. A boy with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, and sharp teeth pulled into a kind smile."

The children gasped as even Jason leaned closer, captivated by Rowan's smooth voice. "Captain Jon Logerquist was able to rebuild his ship and return home to report the ideal location for a new city. The founding families, the Waynes, the Kanes, the Elliots, and the Cobblepots, all agreed to take the Logerquist's request and loaded their four family ships with volunteers to start Gotham. Still, they soon became lost when Captain Logerquist tragically passed along the trip. As he was the only person who knew the way, the new crew and civilians quickly panicked, getting further and further away from the location that would later be Gotham. They attempted to turn around, hoping to return home, but navigation tactics were not working. It was almost as if the waters and stars moved, wanting to claim as many victims as possible. This would later be known as Gotham's Orginal Curse."

Rowan paused to wiggle their fingers at the crowd of ten children and a few teenagers- the ones from Rowan's original gang- all made the appropriate ooooohhhhh sounds. Jason shivers as a storage sense of pressure settles around his shoulders. It felt like the city itself was listening to the tale. He wonders if anyone else felt it.

"They quickly ran out of food, and the passengers even began speaking of eating each other to survive. A young Wayne boy, one of the few who could read, found Logerquist's journal in his cabin and decided to try lighting a black candle while the adults argued." Rowan continues mimicking, opening a book, and lighting a candle. That's another thing Jason liked about Rowman's stories. They tended to act out some scenes, and it was highly entertaining.

"Just like before, a bright white light appeared before the lite black candle, and a boy with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, and a kind, sharp smile told the Waynes to follow him, which they agreed to. The three other family ships reluctantly followed when the Waynes broke away from the formation and arrived at Gotham. There, they found all the resources they needed to survive and riches beyond their wildest dreams. Since then, the Kid of Candles has appeared throughout Gotham's history, leading those who are lost to their homes whenever a black candle is lit. It is said to this day if you are genuinely lost and light a black candle, the Kid of Candles will appear but be warned, his assistance always comes with a price,"

Jason gasped as the pressure increased around him. Seriously how had no one else felt it yet? "What is the price?"

Rowan snaps their fingers at him with a sinister smile. "Death. When you ask the dead for help, they will ensure you join them as a repayment. Maybe not the same day, maybe not for years, but he will claim you eventually."

A few kids whimpered.

"Oh, knock it off, Rowan," A teenage girl snaps. "You're scaring the little ones with your stupid urban myths."

"Gotham myths are not stupid!" Rowan's gasps hurt. "They are the closest accurate account of Gotham's real history!"

"Sure, just like the Court of Owls and their Talons." the girl rolls her eyes.

"Those are real. The Court's Talons should not be taken lightly. They are far worse than the Kid of Candle. At least he is benevolent enough to help you home!"

Jason retreats to his corner of the abandoned warehouse factory, ignoring the bickering of the teenage gang. He sits with his back to the wall, his feet tucked close to his chest, and all his things squished between his body and a second wall on his right. It's uncomfortable but ideal for keeping what little he has safe and making it easier to get up and run should the need arise.

He found that the need came a lot more often than he liked. He nods off after trying to squeeze his body closely together to hopefully gather warmth.

The following day, a teenager kicks him in the side, sneering that the free space-time is over and Rowan wants him out in ten minutes. Jason doesn't have to be told twice, gathering his things and scurrying to the exit. As he passed Rowan, he offered the elder a nod of thanks, and the storyteller gave him a wink and grin.

They also press a black candle into Jason's palm. "Hey he brought me to my gang, so why can't he lead you?"

Jason smiles, no commenting, and pockets the candle without hesitation. He may need to sleep here again and doesn't think calling bullshit will be a smart move.

It's best not to offend the crazy leader. A day goes by where he panhandles out of the cop's sight, wandering around the city looking for some food, and even gets a rich guy to give him fifty bucks after asking politely, but he runs when he asks if he has somewhere safe to sleep.

All in all, not the worst day. That night, he returns to Rowan's place but is told they already have too many. Disheartened, Jason wanders to sleep under a bridge by Gotham River. As he shivers near the frozen water, he thinks of the black candle.

He has a few matches on him, and maybe the small candle can help him start a bigger fire to keep warm. Jason strikes his match The pressure from before returns making him waver for only a moment before he dares set the wake aflame.

A few seconds go by with nothing happening, and he's just about getting embarrassed for believing in a stupid urban legend when he's blinded by the brightest light he's ever seen. A floating boy with white hair, green glowing eyes, and a broad smile appears before Jason.

He screams, stumbling back to fall on his butt as the boy floats to touch the ground before him.

The boy smile widens. "Hello Jason, it's time to go home."

Jason runs, but it gives chase, throwing out directions. He attempts to do whatever it is- by going the opposite direction, but it's to no avail. Jason knows Gotham like the back of his hand and swears the streets are moving. Roads that are blocks away from each other are right around the corners he takes.

Soon, an unnatural light blue fog surrounds him, blocking his view of anything more than two feet before him. He glances over his shoulder, confirming the mist is coming from the glowing figure that flies behind him at an easy, steady pace.

He picks up his speed.

Jason doesn't understand what's happening, but he remembers Rowan's voice as he pumps his legs to go as fast as they can to the point they burn. This would later be known as Gotham's Orginal Curse."

Oh god, he's been cursed by the Kid of Candles!

"We're here. I hope you have a lovely life with your new family." The being suddenly says hand on Jason's elbow, causing the boy to trip over and hit against a large metal gate. The fog disperses like a blown-away candle, and the Kid of Candles vanishes in its smoke as the gates of Intercon turn on.

"Wayne Manor. Who might you-" a voice with a British accent speaks over the speakers, but Jason cuts them off with a frightful yelp.

"Help! Help! Please, he's going to kill me!" He shouts, eyes swinging around the new place he is. He thinks he doesn't recognize this place at all, which means he's somewhere out of the city- the outskirts. Where the wealthy live.

It would take a good two hours by car to get here, and The Kid of Candles got him here in ten by bending reality or something. And now Jason owed it something.

He owed it his death.

He crumbles into sobs, so terrified his heart feels like it will escape from his chest. "Please. I don't want to die. I don't want to die."

There is a long pause, where all Jason can hear is his own uneven breathing and the beating of his chest, before the gates swing open, and a slightly older teenager- probably around Rowan's age- is offering him a hand.

"Hi, I'm Dick. I think I can help you if you come inside."

Jason stares at the hand for a few seconds, but from the corner of his eye, he swears he sees a boy watching them and quickly takes the hand.

His right elbow has a new tattoo he never paid for. It's a burning black candle, right where the Kid had touched him. It's also the same tattoo on Rowan's right hand. Jason cries for hours when he finds it.

Years later, Jason will admit that the Kid of Candles truly did help him find a home. He would come to love Bruce like father, as the man took him in, mistaking Jason as an escapee of human trafficking, and was there to buffer the misunderstanding between him and Dick.

He would point out that Dick called him dad outside the house, and Bruce would sit his eldest down to ask if he was okay with an adoption. Dick would settle with the knowledge that Bruce didn't keep him around to fight crime, and he would open his heart to Jason as a brother.

He would grow to follow in his brother's footsteps and become Robin- after making sure Dick was okay with it- and would help his new father fight crime. When Jason is fourteen, he finds out his mother is not his biological, and he learns his real mom is still alive.

He asks Dick and Bruce for help to find her, so the three load the plane as the Waynes instead of the Bats, and thus they help put her away together when the met-up goes south.

She tries to sell them to the Joker, but Bruce overhears her and gets authorities to him in mere minutes, long before the Joker can meet up with her.

She is in cuffs and being led away from the warehouse where the Joker was going to wait for her.

In the chaos, Jason notices the glowing white-haired boy smiling at the warehouse entrance, but Jason doesn't go near it. Not even after it explodes, killing the Joker who was inside. Not even when Bruce holds them close, horrified that they could have been so close to the explosion- they were in civilian identities and needed to put up a show- but he does notice that the Candle on his elbow is shorter.

That night Jason traces the shorter melted candle and he knows he escaped death once more. He doesn't know how he knows but something deep within him knows the Kid of Candles hand something to do with it.

He would swing by Rowan's place as Robin and Jason Wayne to help them and their gang get off the streets.

Rowan would one day open a bookstore, where they would hold weekly storytelling, naming the store the Black Candle in thanks to the spirit that led them to his lifelong friends.

Jason will, however, never get over his fear of ghosts, not even when the same green fog would one night lead the neighbor's boy right to their yard. His little brother, Tim, thought The Kid of Candles was kind, handsome, and awesome (might be a crush in all honestly) but Jason will always know it was much more dangerous than meets the eye.

All things in Gotham are deadly beautiful like that.

The Waynes still have a drawer full of black candles they take out in the field, just in case.

(Danny Phantom watches Jason sleep, his protection core warming as the boy cuddles with Tim after his little brother admitted to a nightmare. He's glad they found somewhere that could offer everything they needed in a home.

A house and a home are two very different things, after all.

It reminds him of when he was alive.

A candle is flickered on somewhere in the city, and he blinks out of existence, ready to help- Steph- get away from her father. Hmmm, well, Bruce does have the space for more kids)

[gaycragula]

Hello there

Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO

cheers mate 🙏

Lost and Found

Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist

The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.

It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before  you could get up yourself.

Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels. 

Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same. 

“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”

. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment. 

Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?

The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents. 

Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents? 

They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.

They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.

It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.

Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.

Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?

You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand. 

On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled  back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.

It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.

A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form. 

—-----------------------

Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?

They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible. 

It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors. 

The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here. 

He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk. 

He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. “Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly. 

Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.

“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.

“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”

Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team. 

Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.

The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago. 

It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down. 

He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear. 

You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.

Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”

“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there. 

“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.

“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return. 

It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement. 

“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.

“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.

“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?” 

Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.

“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.

It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible. 

The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt. 

Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.

Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.

Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.

[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[sometimesanalice]

Make You Mine This Season

Summary: It’s your second Christmas with Bradley and the holidays are always better with him by your side. After the perfect day out, you come home with a new accessory- just not the one you were hoping for.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: so much fluff and some allusions to smut and a cast that looks like a candy cane.

(Author’s Note: set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe, can be read on its own)

You can’t fight the smile on your face as you watch Bradley studiously stare at the Christmas tree with a delicate glass icicle ornament dangling from his long finger.

“I think it need to go a little to the left, Roos,” you say, watching the way the little golden thread attached to it gleams from the many strands of white lights he had spun around it earlier in the afternoon.

The contrast between your handsome Naval aviator boyfriend and the very large, very fluffy pink Christmas tree he had bought for you would never not thoroughly charm you. 

“Here?” he asks, moving the dainty icicle to the left per your suggestion.

“Maybe just a bit up?”

Bradley moves it and holds it up to a spot near the little glass Hawaiian shirt ornament you’d gotten for him. He was so amused by it that he’d given it what he called a place of honor on the tree.

“Hmm, no. I think back to the right and down a smidge.”

He turns and shoots you a smirk over his broad shoulder, “Ok, now you’re just messing with me.” 

And then he hangs it on the tree with a flourish.

You laugh when he steps back and gives a dramatic sweep of the hand that would put Vanna White to shame.

Ever the showman.

He had been so excited when he’d found the ornaments in the storage locker he’d kept in Virginia earlier in the summer when the two of you had taken a quick trip to there to pack up the remaining things he’d left behind and bring them home.

The sleeves on the flannel plaid shirt he is wearing are rolled up highlighting his forearms and that snug fitting tank and the ridges of his abs on full display. You’d taken the liberties to sneak in a few glances as he’d bent over to grab ornaments out of the large plastic storage container you keep them in.

It’s an easy choice to abandon the silvery glittery Fa-la-la-la garland that you had been working on hanging on that tricky bit of wall space beneath the stairs to come stand next to him by the tree.

Plus, you know that you can get Bradley to put it up for you- even though he hates the feeling of glitter on his hands- if you offer to make him an Old Fashioned in exchange.

He drapes his arm over your shoulders and drops a kiss to the top of your head as you wrap your arms around his waist, the two of you taking a moment to admire the pretty twinkling tree in front of you with Bob Hope crooning softly on the background.

You love this tree.

And not because it is the most wonderfully ostentatious thing you’ve ever seen. Or because he’d surprised you with it when he asked you to move in with him the year before. But because it was one of the many ways he showed you just how important you were to him, just how much he paid attention to you.

Bradley kept asking what you wanted for Christmas this year, but you’d been avoiding giving him an answer.

Because he was the only thing on your list this year.

You would gladly never have a real tree again as long as it meant that Bradley got to be yours forever.

His allergy to pine trees had taken both of you by surprise last year. Before that chaotic afternoon last December, he had never had a real tree before, but it didn’t take long until his normally sunkissed skin has been covered in angry red hives.

And that gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir that you had selected from the Christmas tree lot had quickly become Jake’s gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir.

But you’ll never forget that magical moment when you had walked into his cozy living room to see that candy colored confection of a tree for the first time and how proud Bradley had been to be the one to make your dreams of a pink tree Christmas come true.

It was something you had only ever mentioned once in passing, but that’s who Bradley Bradshaw is. The type of man who goes above and beyond for the people he loves.

Last year, the two of you had just picked up a couple boxes of basic multicolored bobbles to hang on the tree. But this year, your pretty pink tree has some new decorations that you’d collected along the way since then.

The sparkling frosty mug was something he’d found at the airport on the way back from when you’d taken him home to meet your parents for the first time. To no one’s surprise, they’d loved him. He’d had a lot of fun at the breweries you’d taken him to and you liked getting to see a tipsy and pink cheeked Bradley Bradshaw.

There was a blue miniature model toy Bronco with a bottle-brush Christmas tree hanging out the back was one you’d recently found at a Christmas market you went to with Nat and Bob the previous weekend. You’ve never handed over your credit card for something so quickly before in your life.

There was even a shiny shamrock that Jake had picked up to commemorate your first- and last- Leprechaun Run.

It was a promise you were coerced into making in exchange for Jake’s help and the use of his truck to move your things into Bradley’s place the weekend after you happily agreed to live in with him. You were planning on waiting until after the beginning of the New Year, but Rooster wouldn’t hear of it. You were able to hold off for a few days, but he’d made some rather compelling points with his mouth that had swayed your mind pretty quickly.

That New Year’s Eve, he’d kissed you properly and thoroughly surrounded by a dozen half-unpacked brown cardboard boxes.

You thought Hangman would have forgotten about it, but it turns out the only person that had forgot was a you, because you’d nearly spit out your beer mid-sip when he’d slapped down the race bib in front of you at the Hard Deck one evening in March.

It was just as terrible as you’d imagined it would be and worse. Not even the four-leaf clover bobble headband you’d worn had cheered you up even the slightest.

The term fun run was an oxymoron and you were willing to die on that a hill.

And of course, there was also a copy of the house key dangling on a pretty pink velvet ribbon. The one he’d originally given you was a permanent fixture on your key ring.

“So what’s the verdict, sweetheart? How did I do? Is it fluffed enough?” he asks, pulling back to look down at you.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” you say grinning up at him.

You’ve loved his homey Craftsman since the first time you’d stepped inside it with all of its warm wooden paneling around the entryways and ceiling beams. The hand tiled fireplace was mostly for aesthetics rather than functionality. You’d filled it with a display of tall pillar candles, but there’d been a couple of occasions where the two of you had stacked it with wood picked up from the grocery store and had the sounds of its crackles and pops serving as the soundtrack to your cozy night in.

You loved it even more now that your books were mixed in with his on the bookshelf. On top of his upright piano there were framed pictures of you and him and of all your friends and family. On the mantle of that fireplace were ivory knit stockings embroidered with your name and his.

This was your home now too, pink Christmas tree and all.

“The best thing, huh?” he says, amused.

“Maybe second best,” you muse, sliding your hand into the back pocket of his snug jeans, “Those Danny Zuko shorts you wore last Halloween still live rent free in my head.”

“I’ve still got those short-shorts, you just say the word and I’ll go put them on for you anytime.”

You snort a laugh and pull him down for a kiss.

The two of you have been together for almost a year and a half, but the way Bradley kisses you still sets off butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart flutter.

Soft kisses. Passionate kisses. Hello kisses. See you soon- never goodbye- kisses. Just because kisses. There you are kisses. Never stop kissing me kisses. All of them turn you upside down just like a snow globe.

He pulls away first, looking to the tree again contemplatively, “You know, the more I look at this the I feel like something is missing.”

You skim over the tree with its warm glow from the many strands of lights, the sparkling ornaments, the glinting icicles, and the delicate bejeweled snowflake tree topper. Short of tying on a few bows for the fun of it, there’s nothing more you think this tree needs.

“I might have tucked a little something in the piano bench,” Rooster says with a nod towards his well-loved upright, “Why don’t you take a look.”

You try and fail to ignore the swoop in your stomach as you walk up to the bench. You already know that you want to be his forever and the two of you are on the same page about it, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’re trying to be practical, realistic.

But the heart wants what the heart wants, and your heart wants him.

The seat creaks open as you lift the lid open with a not-so-steady hand, and sitting inside a small box filled with iridescent filler are the prettiest pair of ceramic ice skates you’ve ever seen. You lift the dainty ornament from the box to see that they dangle from a couple ribbons that have been tied together in a lovely bow at the top. They even have a little white fluff lining the rims of boot.

It was one of the things you missed most about home, your town had a little outdoor rink that was set up every year. You weren’t the greatest skater and it had been a few years since you’d laced up a pair of boots, but it had always been one of your favorite traditions growing up.

“Oh Bradley, they’re so lovely,” you say with a dreamy sigh, “I love it, thank you!”

You admire them for another moment taking in all their little details before hanging them up on the pink tree near his little Hawaiian shirt ornament in a place of honor on the tree.

“I have another surprise for you,” he says with a grin, looking very proud of himself.

“Oh? When did you become such a man of mystery?” you tease.

“Gotta keep my girl on her toes,” Rooster winks, sliding a finger through your belt loop to pull you closer before wrapping his arms around you. “You know how Hotel del Coronado has that ice-skating rink set up now?”

Of course you did.

The tickets went on sale a little over seven weeks ago and time slots had sold out in five minutes. You’d even signed up early to try and get a spot in the queue and it still had kicked you out with empty hands.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, looking up at him skeptically.

Bradley has been on a training detachment at the time, so there was no way Mr. One Percent could have gotten them when you couldn’t. There’s just no way.

You must say that part out loud or think it loud enough for him to hear you because that gorgeous smile of his gets devastatingly self-satisfied.

“I sure did, sweetheart-”

You jump up and cut him off with a kiss, he is quick to get his hands underneath you for support while your legs wrap around him.

“Oh my god, Bradley, how?” you ask excitedly between peppering kiss across his nose and cheeks.

“Ok, I can’t take full credit. I had some help,” he admits, clearly happy with your reaction, “Nat has, and I quote, ‘fast fingers’.”

You make a little squeal in delight as you throw your arms around his neck to hug him and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the world to you.

“What do you say, want to make a day of it? I might have a few things in mind for our San Diego Christmas. We’re a couple weeks early, but I’m feeling festive.”

You get too distracted by his smiling mouth to give him your answer then and there, but you remember to officially accept later that night in bed after your heart finally stops racing.

Convincing you to move in with him might be the best thing Bradley’s ever done.

Those cool Winter nights last year had tasted like bourbon and were spent wrapped up together on the couch and under the covers.

Your first big fight had been over whose Super Bowl team was going to win. There had been a lot of trash talk that night, but eventually a peace had been brokered. And really, no one was a loser when it came to orgasms.

In the Spring, he had built you a bunch of raised garden beds in the backyard for you to grow whatever you wanted. He’d learned that he had a bit of a green thumb when it came to zucchinis, a fact that irked you to no end because you could never get them to produce anything. He didn’t know sunshine had a scent until he could smell it on your skin with your hands covered in dirt and a smile on your facec.

And he was not surprised to learn that he was also very much a fan of your sundress collection.

The golden Summer days were spent at the beach and taking road trips to nowhere in the Bronco then the long way home. Rooster burned more often than he cared to admit, but you started keeping a container of aloe in the fridge for him. He’d never say no to have your soft hands on his body, your touch more soothing than the cooling gel could ever be.

That Fall he’d finally been able to go home with you for Thanksgiving. He’d met your family earlier in the year, but you’d been so proud to show him off at the official family gathering as you’d sipped on your cranberry mimosa. And after a year of planning, the two of you had finally been able to enact your Stealthy Soufflé Scheme.

He had been determined to get his girl that closely guarded recipe no matter what.

Your Aunt Christine had been putty in his hands with all of his yes, ma’ams and no, ma’ams and charming smiles and All-American golden boy aviator thing. You’d primed him on what things she was interested in and he had fully leaned into it, sweet talk and all. It didn’t hurt that she had been a big fan of the expensive bottles Syrah the two of you had brought with you.

You and your mom had been thrilled when he’d presented you with the handwritten copy of the coveted recipe. He had been happy to do it, but he didn’t mind the way you showed him your thanks later that night in your childhood bedroom.

He was the first boyfriend you’d ever had in there, and if he has his way, he’d also be the last.

Victory- and that not-so-secret-anymore corn soufflé recipe- never tasted so good. 

The two of you had had a great first Christmas together last year, excluding the slight hiccup with the whole hives thing. And he knows he’s a bit of a perfectionist, but he wants to make this one even better.

He had let you sleep in as long as he could, but he was excited for all the festive things he had arranged for today.

“C’mon, sleepy girl. We’ve got plans,” he says, skimming a few soft kisses along your shoulder.

“Do those plans involve coffee?” you mumble sleepily into your pillow.

He chuckles and brushes back a few of the hairs that are stuck against your forehead, “Of course, it’ll be the first stop after.”

You peek up at him from under your silk eye mask, he’s always liked a slightly fussy girl. You’d even got him one for his deployments to help him sleep better on the carrier.

“After what, Roos,” you ask skeptically.

“You seemed to enjoy that Leprechaun Run you did with Jake and I saw that there was an Ugly Sweater Fun Run today and I signed us up, we have to be there in an hour.”

“Bradley, you didn’t,” you say with a gasp, sitting up like you’ve been struck by lightning.

You look so alarmed, clutching the top sheet to your chest, that he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.

“No, I didn’t. I promise,” he says, trying to pull you into his chest.

You shove lightly at his shoulder, “That was so rude of you, Bradley Peter Bradshaw.”

“Not the government name,” he smirks, leaning down to trail a couple kisses along your neck. He likes the way you always shiver when his mustache grazes that ticklish spot under your ear.

“Oh my god, I swear I just had a war flashback to that second mile when Jake tried to make me keep up with him,” you huff, leaning your head to the side to let him continue apologizing with his mouth, “You’re so lucky I’m even talking to you right now.”

“I am very lucky to have such a pretty, smart, and forgiving girlfriend. One who appreciates over the top Christmas decorations and brunch with themed cocktails.”

That piques your interest and you seem much more awake now for someone who usually needs at least two cups of coffee before becoming a fully functional human being, “Themed cocktails, you say?”

“Mhmm, they even have a Ho-Ho-Hot and Spicy Bloody Merry, spelled m-e-r-r-y,” he says with a smile, running a finger down the bridge of your nose. “But to get one, we have to get out of this bed and into the shower.”

“Sounds like it would be more efficient if we took one together, huh?” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Plus I’m all about preserving the planet’s natural resources.”

The two of you were a little late getting out of the house, having worked up an appetite, but still manage to make it in time for the reservations he had made.

The restaurant had been swathed in miles of frosted evergreen garlands with so many oversized ornaments dangling and ribbons woven throughout that he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t come crashing down off the ceiling. Not an inch of it was left undecorated, it was all stands of lights and shiny wreaths and giant cellophane covered candies.

Brunch had been complete with a couple of those Bloody Merry’s he’d heard about from Coyote, as well as an order of Santa pancakes topped with a hat of strawberries tossed with orange zest infused syrup.

The Christmas radio station was playing all of your favorites and you were singing along as he zipped along the highway to the next stop.

The Ocean Beach Christmas tree was beloved for being San Diego’s unofficial response to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Bob had told him he’d stumbled upon it on accident one day last year when he had been exploring his new city and learned about the tree’s forty-year history and had enthusiastically recommended that Rooster added it to his festive agenda.

Bradley loved the way your face lit up at the sight of it. The top of the massive tree was leaning to the right and looked straight out of Whoville the way it decorated with all kinds of blow up pool toys. There were beach balls galore, traditional ones and ones that looked like disco balls, a few parrots, and even one shaped like an electric guitar.

“Oh my god, look!” He looks up from the text message he was replying to and follows the line of your arm to where your finger is directing his gaze, “Another bird defying the laws of physics.”

And there tucked away up in the tree next to a blow-up globe is an inflatable rooster.

On the way back into town, two of you stopped by Mission Bay to grab some more coffee and walk around the marina to check out some of the decorated boats docked for the Parade of Lights. He’d heard about it from Penny, who had even participated in the event herself a few years ago.

You’d both agreed the one that had turned the tall mast of the sailing boat into a glowing Christmas tree was the clear winner.

The next stop was something Bradley knew you’d be really excited about.

He’d found out about the Christmas centerpiece floral arrangement class from Nat who had a crush on the florist who ran the little shop.

The class was filled with mostly women, but there were a couple other men scattered around. They’d greeting him with that head nod that only men seem to exchange, like you got roped into this too, huh?, but what they didn’t know was that being there had been his idea.

Rooster was slipping his phone back into his pocket when you returned back to your little round table with an arm full of various flowers and different greens, with not a pine frond in sight. He’d even called in advance to make sure that there wouldn’t be any involved, just in case.

You were divvying up the things that you’d gathered from the long farmhouse tables in the front between the two of you when his phone pings again.

“Rooster, is everything ok? I feel like your phone is going off a ton this afternoon,” you asked, putting down the white berry looking things to look at him, a little crease there between your eyebrows.

“Yeah, of course,” he’d said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Fanboy decided to invite chaos into the group chat by asking if a hot dog was a sandwich or not. It’s getting pretty contentious.”

You give him a look but go back to dividing the pile in front of you, moving on from the berry things to some small roses.

“Also, for the record, a hot dog is definitely a category of its own. You don’t call a hamburger a sandwich,” you’d replied, not missing a beat.

“You won’t hear me arguing with that logic.”

“Good. Because facts are facts, Bradley.”

He pulled out his phone again to give it one last quick skim before turning the volume down, before noticing what flowers you’d just set in front of him, “Hey, are those dahlias?”

You hold up a stem with a large deep burgundy flower for him, giving it a spin between your fingers, “They are! It’s a little late in the season for them, so I’m surprised to see them here. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Those were my mom’s favorites,” he’d said fondly, remembering a backyard from decades ago that was lined with around the edges with the flowers.

“Were they? Well, I’m glad I grabbed them then,” you said with a soft smile, before handing him a few more to work with.

By the end of class, he knows his ears are pink because of how much you’re showering him with praise and gushing over his arrangement. He’d even gotten a few supportive thumbs ups from some of the other people in class.

“Seriously, Bradley. It’s so lovely! I mean, look at those pinecones you tucked in it. I can’t wait to put it on the dining table!”

You wanted to swing by Mav and Penny’s place to drop yours off for them, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to convince you that it could wait until tomorrow.

He couldn’t wait for the next part of your day together.

Bradley jogs around the front of the Bronco to open your door for you after he parks at the Hotel del Coronado. He gives you his hand to help you down from the car, instead you reach and pull his face to yours.

The kiss is like spun sugar, airy and sweet. He could taste the lingering peppermint from your latte earlier.

“What was that for,” he murmurs against you lips.

“I just really love you,” you sigh, nudging his nose with yours, “Today has been so perfect. I feel like I’m in one of my Christmas movies, except I know you’re not going to ask me to leave my job in the big city to help you run your grandmother’s failing bakery to only get paid in gingerbread and Christmas spirit.”

“Lucky for you, my grandma could barely make toast, so you’re spared from such a fate. You wouldn’t need that little Mini Cooper of yours in a town that only has one stoplight.”

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “Well thank goodness for small miracles.”

“We’ve still got one more thing on the list. You ready for this?” Bradley asks, holding his hand out.

You slip your hand in his with a grin, “Virtue and Moir better watch out.”

You can’t say you’ve ever expected to see an ice rink set up with a display of white sand and sparkling blue ocean behind it. But it was easily one of the most magical things you’ve ever seen.

The sunset has painted the skies a beautiful display of cool blues, soft pinks, and dusky purples. The palm trees lining the rink have been done up in strands of white lights that crisscross over it above your heads. The mixture of happy laughter, Christmas songs piped over the sound system, and waves crashing served as the soundtrack to the moment.

And you’re trying desperately not to fall and make a fool of yourself.

It was more than a little humbling stepping onto the rink after having not had a pair of ice skates on for more than a decade. It had been awhile since your family had indulged in this particular tradition, but you figured it would be like riding a bike.

It’s almost laughable now how wrong you were.

“How are you so good at this?” you jokingly accuse as you wobble on your skates, yet again. Luckily, Bradley’s sturdy grasp on your hand keeps you from falling.

He laughs, “I thought you said you did this all the time growing up?”

“I did! I just never said I was good at it.” A kid whizzes past you- a little too close, a little too fast- and Bradley shoots a disgruntled look at his swiftly retreating figure. “You come from a snow state, it’s in your blood. You automatically have the advantage.”

“Are you thinking of the other V-state? Vermont?” he teases, easily gliding around you swapping spots so that you’re closer to the edge of the rink rather than the middle.

“It snows in Virginia, I googled it.”

“I mean, yeah, but not a ton,” he says, “But it wasn’t like I was hitting up the indoor rinks either.”

“So you’re telling me you’re just a natural?” You roll your eyes affectionately at him.

He winks at you, “You said it not me, sweetheart.”

You’d nearly melted on the sight when Rooster had knelt down in front of you and looked up at you with such a boyishly charming smile as he’d tied the laces of your rented ice skates.

It took a moment to get your hummingbird heart back under control after that.

After a few more laps around, you’re starting to feel like you’re falling into the rhythm of it. You’re still keeping an eye out for people and the older kid who had earned himself more than one glare from people trying to enjoy their time on the rink as he erratically bobbed and wove his way through them. But your strides are getting longer and the shifting motion from side to side is getting smoother. You could almost claim to be gliding.

You’d forgotten how much fun it was, but then again, Bradley always made everything better and brighter.

Your cheeks ache in the best way from how much smiling you’ve been doing today.

And if you faked a couple wobbles so that he’d put his arm around you, it was worth the sacrifice of trying to look graceful. He’s already seen you at your best and at your worst, so you didn’t think your lack of skill standing on a quarter of an inch of metal was going to scare him away.

Rooster is a few feet ahead of you showing off some of his fancy footwork and maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted by his smile you would have heard the aggressive woosh of the kid’s skates as he sped up behind you.

It had only been a matter of time.

He collides with you but keeps his balance and propels himself forward, not slowing his pace in the slightest before taking off again. Your feet slip out for beneath you and before you know it you’re extending your right arm down to try and break your fall.

You meet the ice hard.

You feel pop.

A rush of warmth.

And then throbbing.

The next five hours pass in a twinkling blur of heavy guilt and aching pain.

Bradley had gone through so much effort planning such a perfect day for you and you feel terrible about how it ended.

The wait at the hospital had been miserable. The lights were too glaring and the noises too loud. The garish green and red garland draped on the desk seemed to mock you as you’d gone through the motions of getting checked in.

Your wrist had been killing you and you hated being the reason that Rooster’s leg hand been bouncing anxiously next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He’d tried to hide it, but you’d seen that deep furrow between his brows. You’d almost cried when he started stroking the back your pain-free hand with this thumb. It wasn’t until they’d brought you back for X-rays and had given you a light dose of painkillers that the world had shifted back into the dreamy soft focus it had been like earlier in the day with Bradley when he’d taken you on all those perfect dates.

You didn’t know if he had planned anything else, all you knew is that everything had unraveled so quickly.

It’s an odd feeling like you could float away at any moment. The painkillers made you feel buoyant and light, yet you can feel the weight on your shoulders just the way you feel the weight of the cast on your wrist.

Even now as the candy-colored lights that he’d put up along the front of the house bounce off of his still perfect curls, he’s wearing the softest of smiles for you as he works to open the front door. His dreamy brown eyes are reflecting nothing back at you other than warmth and affection and care.

Your wonderful, loving, perfect boyfriend. Your perfect Bradley.

You know it’s not entirely the drugs fault the way you’re struck by just how pretty he is. You’ve always thought so, but here and now you’re simply mesmerized by him under the glow of the Christmas lights.

“I don’t think I’ve been called pretty before, sweetheart. But thank you,” Bradley says with a little amused chuckle.

“Well you are. And your hair. Bradley, it’s not fair.” The words are tumbling out of your loose lips.

“My hair isn’t fair?” he asks with a tilt of his head, holding open the front door for you.

“No, it’s not! You just wash it and it dries like that?” He takes your purse from you and sets it on the entry table before helping to ease off the heavier sweater jacket you were wearing from your shoulders. “I don’t think you get it. You’re pretty, but you’re so handsome too.”

He squats down in front of you and smiles up at you before helping to slip off your shoes, “I’ll take handsome too if it’s on the table, sounds like a nice combo.”

“Please, you sound like Jake now,” you giggle.

“Oh no, we can’t have that now can we,” he grins, “But at least I’m pretty and handsome, hopefully that’ll cushion the blow.”

And you just love him.

You love him for the way he loves you and takes care of you and tries to make you laugh when he knows you’re feeling down. You reach up to pull his face to yours when you are distracted by the thick cast on your arm.

“This wasn’t the accessory I was hoping for for Christmas,” you say with a sigh.

The panic that electrifies your body is immediate as your spine goes ramrod straight. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. You can almost see the words swirl and twirl around him, and you know there’s no way you can snatch them back from the way they hang in the air.

“Ohmygod. Oh my god, I didn’t mean to say that.” You’re so flustered now, so embarrassed. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

But Bradley is looking at you with his eyes crinkled around the corners and his lips pressed together like he is trying to hold back a laugh with the way his cheeks are pulling up.

“Oh, did you want a pair of earrings?” he teases, cupping your face in his hand.

“Bradley,” you whine.

“C’mere, baby,” he laughs and pulls you into his chest. You wrap your arms around him and wonder briefly if he can feel the hard plaster of your cast pressed against his back. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “You know you never did tell me what you wanted for Christmas.”

“Don’t need anything,” you murmur into the warmth of him.

He’s already all you’ve ever wanted.

As you make your way up the stairs, glow from your pretty pink tree seems brighter than usual. Normally, you’d take one last peek back at it before going to bed, but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet. It’ll still be there waiting for you in the morning.

“Oh shit,” you hear him mutter from behind you.

“What’s wrong, Roos?”

“Ah- just stubbed my toe. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” The heavy tread of his footsteps is close behind you, you can almost feel the warmth of him at your back.

At you back. By your side. He’s the only person you’ll ever need.

They’d given you some of the strong stuff and he could tell that you were still floating in that sweet spot before all the gravity settles back into your bones.

The distal radius fracture in your right wrist meant that you’d be in the cast for the next six weeks. You’d gone with a white and pink stripped candy cane inspired look to match the tree, Bradley. While he wishes it wasn’t there in the first place, he thought the pattern you’d chosen was cute.

He’d quickly and quietly kicked off his shoes before he’d followed you into the bedroom. Hoping that you wouldn’t notice them, he’d take a disinfecting wipe to the floor and stairs tomorrow.

For as well as Rooster knew you, he felt a little out of his element because he knew you were hurting but he wasn’t sure what would make you feel better in that moment. When he offered to draw you a bath he’d instantly known it was the right choice by the look on your face.

So he’d made you one with all of your favorite products. The mound of bubbles he was able to achieve was truly impressive, if he did say so himself. He even dimmed the lights and lit a few candles for you.

Bradley had carefully wrapped up your cast in plastic wrap and secured the top with a rubber band. And the dejected pout on your face when you looked at it and called it an “unattractive arm condom” had nearly sent him over edge.

He’s already looking on his phone for other options, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you as you soak in the tub, when he feels your fingers thread through his hair and he leans into your touch.

“I really am jealous of your hair, you know. I’m sure there were a few of the girls at that floral class who were too.”

Your head is leaning back against the lip of the tub as you gaze at him, your hair wet from him washing it for you. He’d noticed the moment you realized how difficult it would be for you to do it yourself for the foreseeable future. But you brought out the optimistic side of him and he’d already come up with a solution, “I guess we’ll have to take more showers together then, so I can wash your hair for you. Plus, it’ll be good for the environment”. You’d laughed, and he was happy to see some of the light returning back into your eyes.

“I don’t know why when yours is so pretty,” he says, reaching out and lightly tugging on a lock of your hair.

“Did I tell you one of them asked me if you had a brother? She was honestly so put out when I said that you didn’t that I’m pretty sure she took the last of the dahlias out of spite when she saw me reaching for them. They didn’t even match her arrangement,” you say rolling your eyes, adjusting the way your plastic wrapped candy cane cast rested against the other side of the tub. “Like sorry not sorry, I’m not going to give you my boyfriend.”

“Was it the woman in the striped sweater?”

“Yes! It was her!”

Bradley had notice her checking him out a little too closely for a man who was clearly there another woman and happily taken.

“She had crazy eyes, I wouldn’t have wanted you to give me to her anyways.”

You snicker at that, “She did have crazy eyes.”

He makes a mental note to remember to grab the arrangements from out of the back of the Bronco before he goes to bed. He didn’t want anything to happen to them, but that could until after you were tucked in bed and asleep.

“But the instructor was so sweet, Roos. I told her that the dahlias were your mom’s favorites and then she went to the back and got me a bunch. She didn’t put them on the table or anything for anyone else, just handed them over to me for us to use. It was a real girls supporting girls moment, we bonded.”

He’s struck by the fact that you’d already known about his mom’s favorite flower. That you had let him think it was happenstance when really you had grabbed them because you’d known it would mean something to him. That you wanted to make it special for him when he was trying to make it a special day for you.

He didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than he already did, but you were so good at making him fall in love with you over and over again.

“That was really nice of her, sweetheart,” he says, his throat a little thick.

“It really was. And better yet she’s single and likes women,” you say with a grin, “I got her number to get coffee, but I might see if I can play matchmaker between her and Nat. She looks like Nat’s type.”

“This was our instructor? You got all of that out of her in a few minutes of conversation?” he asks, impressed.

You give him a cheeky shrug of your shoulder, “Yeah, I’m efficient. She owns the shop too. I think I’m going to order something for Penny and Mav from her closer to Christmas.”

“You know what, I think you’re right, she does seem very much like Nat’s type,” Bradley smiles to himself, Phoenix is going to be very excited when he tells her about this.

“’m always right,” you hum.

“You sure are, sweetheart,” he says fondly.

He watches as your eyelids start to get heavy and helps you to get out of the tub, wrapping you up in the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find and sits you on the bed as he goes into the closet to find something cozy for you to wear.

“What do you want me to grab you, baby?”

“Your shirt,” you call out sleepily.

He peeks his head around the opening, “Sweetheart, you’re not going to want hospital germs in bed.”

“No, not that one,” you say, scrunching your nose, “Your henley. The soft navy one with the little white flecks. ‘s my favorite.”

You look so tired, he doesn’t like the slump of your shoulders. He knows that feeling all too well and he hates that you feel so bad about something that you had no control over. It had been such a good day up until the end. But even so, you’re the only person he wants to go through the highs and lows with.

He strips down and puts both his clothes and yours into the hamper before grabbing the shirt for you. “Arms up,” he says gently, he pulls the sleeve wide to fit over your cast before threading it down your arms and over your head.

Rooster pulls back the covers for you to crawl into bed. He climbs in after you, cradling you against him as he reaches over for the remote to turn on your favorite Christmas movie channel for you to fall asleep too.

Your cast rests heavy on his chest.

The heroine just won the cookie cook-off and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you murmur quietly into the dark room, “This is the second year in a row, Bradley, I really think we should consider skipping Christmas next year. For both of our sake’s.”

“We’ve got too much Christmas spirit for a little pine tree allergy or fractured wrist to keep us down,” he tips your head up so that you’re looking at him, “Give it time, it’ll turn around. I promise, sweetheart.”

He seals that vow with a sweet kiss against your lips and a few minutes later he feels as your breaths even out and you fall asleep tucked against him.

You wake up the next morning feeling more than a little groggy and cotton-headed as everything from yesterday comes rushing back to you.

As does the aching in your right wrist.

You reach out for Rooster, but his side of the bed is already cold. He’s always been an early riser and once he’s awake he doesn’t know how to sit still. You wouldn’t have minded cuddling with him for a little bit, but knowing him he has probably already brewed a pot of coffee for you.

When you finally crack open your eyes, you see that he’s left out a bottle of the prescription strength ibuprofen the doctor had sent home with you on your nightstand and a note written in his slanted script reminding you to take one. Your sweetest boy.

You attempt to splash some cold water on your face with one hand, willing it to depuff your face a little bit and then try to fix up your hair so that you look and feel less bedraggled. It is one thing if Bradley is the one responsible for it, but that wasn’t the case this morning.

Before heading downstairs, you decide on a whim to change out of his shirt and into the cozy cream-colored fuzzy lounge set you’d bought on sale the other week. It takes three times longer to get dressed than it usually did, but getting yourself at least a little more put together made you feel a bit more in control. You knew the extra effort wasn’t necessary, but you felt cute and it was making you feel a little bit better about everything.

The pink and white cast was a bit of a choice looking at it in the morning light filtering through the airy curtains, but you thought you pulled it off well. It was cheerful and fun. And you weren’t going to let it affect you or your Christmas plans with your perfect boyfriend.

There is still some residual guilt you’re trying to shake off, you know it was a fluke of fate, but you’re already thinking about ways to make it up to him all the same.

You gingerly make your way down the stairs making a mental note to look up what other festive things were happening this weekend and call out to Rooster, “Please tell me there’s coffee.”

The raspy laugh that reaches your ears makes you smile for the first time that morning, “I’ve got one ready for you in the living room, sweetheart. It’s ready when you are.”

The painkillers, the coffee. The man is a saint and looks like a god. And he’s all yours.

You take those final few steps a bit faster, ready for the strong dark roast that only he seems to be able to make to just right and to thank him for taking such good care of you.

You lose all words when you walk into the living room.

It’s like you’ve walked into a dreamy pink forest straight out of a fairytale.

Your beloved very large, very fluffy, pink tree covered with all of your memories collected from the past year and Bradley’s mom’s sparkling vintage glass icicles is surrounded by two other very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas trees.

The newest additions to the living room glow with the hundreds of twinkling white lights. It’s ethereal and whimsical the way the light bounces and dapples on the walls and floors.

And there standing in front of them is Bradley, barefoot in his favorite sweatpants in your cozy living room of the home he’s made with you looking like a daydream.

You don’t think it’s the prescription strength pain medication kicking in that makes you feel like you’re floating as you walk towards him. You know it’s all him.

Bradley says your name with such adoration, such love that you swear you feel your heart reshape in your chest with his name on it.

“I envisioned this a bit differently in my mind, but the way I see it, we’re just starting the ‘in sickness and in health’ part a bit early,” he says, taking your right hand and dropping a kiss to your cast. Your eyes well up at the tender gesture.

And then you stop breathing when he sinks down onto one knee in front of you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love your big heart and the way you’re so kind and generous to everyone you meet. I love the way you can light up a room with your smile. The best parts of my days are when I am with you. You’re the only person I want to wake up to, the only person I want to fall asleep with in my arms, and the only person who I want a forever with.” He reaches out and takes your shaky hand in his warm one, “Last year, you let me give you more than a drawer and it has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. This year, will you let me give you my last name too and marry me?”

You can almost see his heart that he is wearing on his sleeve. His pretty honey brown eyes are tracing over every inch of your face, almost like he is trying to commit every microcosm of your expression to memory.

You had imagined this moment so many times. It was the movie you’d put on in your mind on those nights when sleep felt just out for reach. And like a snowflake, no two dreams had been the same.

But nothing you’d imagined could have ever topped the reality of this moment here and now.

Because there was nothing was better than being surrounded by three pink fluffy trees and looking forward to getting to spend a lifetime with Bradley Bradshaw.

“Well it’s convenient I fractured the right one,” you say with a watery laugh as a few happy tears escape from your eyes.

“I guess that is a lucky break,” he grins.

“Literally.”

You didn’t think it was possible to smile this wide. That you could be this happy.

“You still haven’t given me an answer yet, sweetheart,” he says, slightly squeezing your good hand.

“Haven’t I though?” you tease. There’s no what he doesn’t know what your answer is, not with the way you’re beaming.

“C’mon, let me hear you say it.”

You don’t make him wait for long.

“Yes, Bradley, yes I will marry you. It’ll always be a yes with you.”

You barely get to finish your sentence before he is shooting to his feet, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

Your Bradley. Your fiancé.

On Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped, you find yourself sitting under your perfectly pink tree surrounded by scraps of ribbons and bits of shiny wrapping paper.

Even your striped pink and white cast looked particularly festive under the gleam of the trees.

Rooster is in the kitchen making another pot of coffee for the two of you to share. You can hear him singing along to one of the vintage crooner Christmas albums you had gotten him.

You’ll be hosting Mav, Penny, and Amelia for dinner tonight. You let yourself enjoy this quiet of the mid-morning before things get chaotic. The two of you had dressed the oval oak dining table yesterday afternoon. The centerpiece you’d ordered from Nat’s now New Year’s Eve date was stunning, there were even a few white dahlias tucked into the arrangement. Thankfully, with no pine needles in sight.

The tall pillar candles had been moved off to the side and a real fire was popping in the hearth of the tiled fireplace. And the sun streaming through the bay windows is bouncing off that sparkly silver garland that you’d gotten Bradley to hang up for you in a way that makes the shiny wooden floors look like they’ve been scattered with specks of confetti.

The swirling, sparkling, shimmering dots on the ceiling, however, were from your own ring as you move and tilt your hand admiring the way the sun illuminates it. You know the matching pair of diamond earrings that Bradley had gotten for you as you Christmas gift are shining just as bright.

He still blushes whenever anyone teases him about forgetting to pull out the engagement ring he had got for you before he’d proposed. But you wouldn’t have changed anything about that moment for the world.

The marquise diamond had belonged to his mom, but he had had it reset in gold with a halo of diamonds around it for you. He’d even bought a pink velvet box to put it in for the occasion. It was easily the prettiest thing you’d ever seen and your heart still fluttered every time you saw it on your finger.

The two new trees are still only dressed with the many strands of lights that they’d arrived with. You learned that Bradley had enlisted Jake and Natasha to help him out with that particular surprise that day a couple weeks ago when he’d taken you on what you affectionately refer to as the 12 Dates of a Christmas Proposal.

Your favorite pink tree, the one he had gotten for you last year- the one you’re sitting under now- was also in possession of a new accessory. A shiny new pink ring pop ornament Bradley had gotten to commemorate the occasion of you saying yes and was hanging in a place of honor on the tree right between the little Hawaiian shirt ornament and the dainty, dangling ice skates.

Saying yes was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Yes to forever. Yes to him.

This season and every season.

You couldn’t wait to see what new ornaments would fill those trees by next year.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

And the next one after that.

Happy Holiday's! It's been almost a year since I've posted my very first story on here. I'm so thankful that a zoom kaboom plane movie has introduced me to so many wonderful people! Thank you for reading my stories and for all the support I've received over this last year! It has meant the world to me!

This story is set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe. If you missed the fic that started it all, you can read it here!

Many thanks to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for so, so many reasons. I hope you enjoy this, this one's for you!

You can read my other stories here!

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

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sea Novel Excerpt: Tongrak and Mahasamut's Last Time Before Bangkok (Ch 11: The Luckiest Man Alive)

"My place isn't like anything you've lived in before."

As they both walked together on the concrete bridge, Mahasamut turned to warn him, but Tongrak insisted on going. He looked into the face that met his gaze with such earnestness that he had to agree to continue walking along the wooden plank path that led to an old wooden house. Tongrak's eyes widened with curiosity as he surveyed the place.

"Want to change your mind?"

"Why would I?" Tongrak didn't understand, just staring at the guy, who laughed in response.

"Alrighty," the tall figure said, then unlocked the door and led him inside.

Right.

Tongrak muttered to himself. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Even the rooms at the summer camp he'd attended were better than this.

Mahasamut's house seemed more like a place to just sleep than to live. A single mattress, a small wardrobe, a storage cabinet, a broken fan, and a bathroom... that was it.

Even though the house was just this, his round eyes roamed around curiously.

"Are you looking for inspiration for a novel?" a deep voice chuckled from behind, to which Tongrak responded in his throat.

I'm just curious, that's all.

None of the characters he wrote about lived in a place like this.

"Yes. Why did you decide to volunteer [for the coral preservation group]?" Tongrak suddenly asked, turning to look at the large man who was placing his house and motorcycle keys down.

"Because I love the sea."

"That's it?"

"What other reason do I need? I love my hometown, and I love the sea. Oh, I love them enough that it got me disowned by my father."

Mahasamut narrated casually, laughing along, not overthinking it, even though the last sentence piqued Tongrak's interest.

The tall figure peeled off his sweat-soaked shirt.

"My father and I don't see eye to eye. He only thinks about catching fish to make money. He doesn't care if nature is destroyed, if the aquatic life dies, or if there will be any fish to catch in the future. He only knows he wants to catch as many as he can today- the more, the better."

"!!!"

Tongrak watched the man turn to open the wardrobe, his gaze tracing the broad back, the shoulder blades moving beautifully with every motion, while the deep voice seemed to pass through his left ear and out the right. Before his brain could catch up with what he was doing, he found himself lunging forward to grab the southern man by the neck and press his lips firmly against his.

He didn't know why, but he just... wanted to kiss.

The larger man was startled at first, but it wasn't long before solid arms wrapped around Tongrak's slender waist, pulling their bodies together until there was no space between them. The fierce lips sucked Tongrak's in return. Mahasamut nipped at his lower lip, a hot tongue flicking and then invading the warm cavern of his mouth.

Tongrak responded by parting his lips, unconcerned that clear saliva was seeping to the edge of his mouth. He just wanted to kiss Mahasamut, offer himself up, and have the other man take even more from him.

He liked this kiss.

"Haah.... Hah... Hah..."

They kissed for who knows how long, but it was long enough to leave their lips swollen and red, their breaths short and rapid, the clear saliva connecting them as they parted to gasp for air.

"Seems like luck is on my side today," a husky whisper brushed against the plump, soft lips.

And it made Tongrak press their bodies even closer.

"You're lucky beyond words," Tongrak tilted his head back, allowing Mahasamt to nuzzle into the crook of his smooth neck.

Then he whispered...

"Fuck me."

Tongrak felt the tension in the arms around him, and the large hand that caressed his hip slipped into his pants, kneading the soft flesh before fingers probed the entrance that clenched with pleasure.

"It's still swollen," Mahasamut whispered, his warm breath circling Tongrak's jawline before nibbling gently, causing a shiver from Tongrak.

"I'm ready," Tongrak confirmed.

He knew his body well enough to turn and bite the ear of the larger man.

"It'll be easy to enter, ah!"

Tongrak twitched as a long finger slipped into his tight entrance the moment he finished speaking. His hands clutched Mahasamut's shoulders firmly feeling the tension and excitement building within.

"Ah... uh."

He enjoyed the way the big man curled his finger and began to play with his entrance, pressing and slowly thrusting in and out until he was nearly driven mad.

"You're right," Mahasamut growled through clenched teeth in response.

And that made Tongrak look up at him.

Now, his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

He liked the intense, focused expression on the sharp face, revealing just how aroused the man was. He wanted the dark, fiery eyes that seemed to scorch him, the lips biting down to contain overwhelming desire, and the hot body pressing against his skin, making him want to rub his bare flesh against it. He liked the large hands trying to sooth him even as they were tense. He liked the way the man tried to restrain himself from being too rough.

But...

"Do it. Go ahead."

That made him want it even more.

"Ughh!!"

As soon as he heard permission granted, the long finger that had been working to stretch him pushed in all at once to the deepest, followed by a second and third finger. A large hand on the other side pulled Tongrak's pants down to his ankles while a hot mouth claimed his provoking lips, kissing and biting until Tongrak moaned throatily.

At the same time, fair hands fumbled to remove Mahasamut's pants in a rush, eager to grasp the large, long shaft in his palm.

"W... wait a minute."

"Sorry, I can't stop now."

Tongrak had just touched the smooth hardness when Mahasamut grabbed him, turning him around to face away, pushing his upper body against a storage cabinet while kneeling down. He parted the soft flesh on both sides and pressed his lips against the enticing entrance, devouring it greedily.

The tingling pleasure that shot through Tongrak's entire body made him cry out, his eyes wide with shock.

With just a flick of Mahasamut's tongue, his body screamed that it was too much.

The big guy acted as if he were the most delicious meal, his hot tongue licking, sharp teeth nipping at soft flesh, and then invaded with his fingers, penetrating the hole. Long fingers never ceased to stimulate, deliberately pounding into the sensitive spot within until clear fluid welled up, brimming in his eyes. The vision before him blurred, with only his hips being forced to arch up, opening to an invasion that left him nearly breathless.

"Ah, ah, ha, Maha... Mahasamut, ugh!"

Tongrak listened to the wet sounds of his own violation, mingling with his moans and complaints.

"Enough... enough already... stop, ugh..." the tease stuttered because if Mahasamut didn't stop using his tongue, Tongrak would climax any minute now.

But it seemed the more he protested, the more it egged Mahasamut on as the wicked tongue probed deeper into the tight space, tormenting Tongrak, who writhed and bucked almost breathlessly.

He was close, so close... He was going to-

"Ugh!"

Tongrak jolted as the pressure inside him released, spilling his desire onto the storage cabinet. Still, he trembled even more as the hot tongue continued its assault, long fingers pressing until he moaned with a trembling voice, his legs quivering.

"Wait... don't. It's too sensitive there... Just a moment, ah... ugh."

Tongrak nearly buried his face in his own arm as the long fingers withdrew, his breath echoing throughout the small house.

His passage was burning hot, the heat reaching deep into his belly, still feeling the tongue and fingers that had been stirring him.

And then...

"Ugh!!!"

That was when Tongrak's eyes widened, his lips parting in a silent cry as the hot hardness didn't just enter, but slammed into him all at once, filling him completely, leaving him breathless and unable to scream. Tears streamed down just as he was about to protest because he'd just climaxed, but... someone had already said it was too late to stop.

"Damn it, your hole is squeezing me so hard."

"Ughhh!!!!"

Tongrak flinched as a large hand smacked against his hip before squeezing his waist, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. Then the large man thrust into him deeply, leaving him almost unable to breathe. He felt choked, he felt pain, but above all, there was an intense excitement coursing through his veins.

"Ah... ahh..."

His hips trembled, but as he tried to flee, the large hands only gripped him tighter, to thrust and bang into him again... and again.

"Ah... ahh... wait, wait, don't go there.... ahh, it's hot inside... it's tight... ahhh, right there, ohh..."

Tongrak's cries were almost heart-wrenching. He was going mad.

Why did Mahasamut know exactly where he liked it? How did he know how to thrust to make him scream? Why could he make someone like him shake uncontrollably, defenseless?

At this moment, the hot air couldn't compare to the heat of their entwined bodies. Sweat dripped and smeared across their skin, mixing with other fluids, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed around them. Pushing, pressing, thrusting, emphasizing the same spot over and over until tears streamed down and toes curled with every powerful thrust that fogged his mind.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Amidst the blurring vision, he heard the grunted curses from the man behind him. The man who pushed his hips out as the flesh was almost completely pulled out, then yanked him back with such a forceful thrust.

"Ugh!!!... s-slow down, slow down..."

He tried to plead, but the wild beast behind him didn't even listen.

Tongrak was about to collapse.

"Ahhh!"

And then his whole body jolted as the large hand scooped up his right thigh, lifting it to make way for the hot, searing shaft to penetrate even deeper, causing Tongrak to grasp desperately at the neck of the man behind him, biting his lip in pain as the pressure in his abdomen nearly drove him mad.

Once more, Tongrak moaned loudly, receiving the relentless pounding from Mahasamut, who showed no signs of tiring easily.

"I can't stand... much longer... ugh... ahh, ahh..."

"Just a little more... I'm almost there..."

"No, no. I'm... gonna cum. I'm going to- ugh, not again. Ah, ugh!"

Tongrak's eyes widened in shock as he arched his back and pressed his face against the broad shoulder behind him, releasing a murky stream that once again soiled the storage cabinet.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Tongrak gasped for air, "Ugh, hah... ha... wait, I just finished."

"Hah... I'm sorry."

The young writer stammered out between sobs, tears streaming down his face, wishing for a moment to catch his breath. But he was too late to react to the other man who flipped him back around, scooped him up by his hips, and pushed him against the storage cabinet. A deep growl resonated in his ear, and the hot flesh invaded him to the deepest once again.

"I'm sorry."

Thrust after thrust followed.

"Oh, ah, aa, ahh!"

Even as the deep voice continued to whisper apologies, the large body relentlessly and savagely invaded, forcing Tongrak to sob and cling to the strong neck, burying his face in the broad shoulder, responding to the fierce assault that was driving him to the brink of madness.

"Kiss.... give me a kiss."

The request was met with a quick, fiery kiss, tongues sliding against each other just outside the lips, causing the clear liquid to spill down. Meanwhile, the bare bodies of both men continued to move in rhythm with Tongrak learning one thing...

This man filled him to overflowing.

---

"Where did you get all this pent-up energy from?"

"Who made you so irresistible?"

When the heated encounter came to an end, Mahasamut once again thanked his lucky stars for having such a beautiful man resting in his arms, the one who condemned his savagery and blushed madly when he turned his words back on him. He was so captivating that Mahasamut wanted to plant a kiss on those soft cheeks.

"If it were someone else, they'd probably be crying by now."

"You cried too, quite a lot."

"Tsk."

When Mahasamut pointed out the truth, the cutie gave a small protest and then turned away, his face flushed. This prompted the larger man to follow and wrap his arms around the slender waist, burying his nose in the crook of the smooth neck.

"I can't take it anymore, just so you know," Tongrak said with a weak voice.

Although Mahasamut wanted to do it again, he settled for holding the slender waist tightly.

"It looks like I've used up all my luck in life."

"Huh?"

The person in the embrace turned to look with curiosity, prompting Mahasamut to offer a smile, gently lifting his hand to stroke Tongrak's hair.

"I mean, how could someone like me ever dream that I'd have someone like you in my house, in my arms, in my bed? If I told anyone, they wouldn't believe me."

"You don't bring anyone home?"

Mahasamut liked the inquisitive look in the person's eyes because Tongrak was curious about 'him'.

"How could I bring anyone home?"

This time, Tongrak smiled broadly, then quickly suppressed the smile, turning his face away once more.

"Yeah, you're lucky. You'll never be this lucky again in your life, just so you know."

It was enough for the lucky one to press his nose forcefully into the soft cheek, teasing and playfully asking for a reward.

"You said if I did well, next time, you'd give me a blowjob."

[fan-fantasies]

Reward

A/N: can be read as a part two of Whisper Sweet Nothings or probably read as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy; it’s pure filth!

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: semi public smut, oral f receiving, choking, use of a strap on

Part One

“And new…WWE Woman’s Tag Team Champions…”

All of the sound drowned out and all you could focus on was Rhea and that fact that you were both now champions. You had won your match at Summer Slam and adrenaline was coursing through your veins.

Rhea scooped you up in her arms and carried you up the ramp, almost more excited to get you back stage than the win itself.

Everyone backstage began to congratulate you and while you were grateful, you only had one thing on your mind- her.

You practically dragged her into the locker room where you threw yourself at her. The kiss was full of passion and heat, still riding high from the match.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I love it,” she chuckled as you kissed down her neck.

“Baby, I need you,” you whined, pulling at her gear.

“And you’ll have me, love. Do you remember what I told you your reward would be if we won?” She asked.

“Of course,” you chuckled. She went over to her bag and grabbed something out of it. She hid it behind her back and looked at you with a devilish smirk.

“You brought it?” Anticipation began to gnaw away at you, more than excited for what was to come.

“Did you really think I was going to wait until we got back to the hotel to absolutely ravage you?” She asked, stalking toward you slowly. “We better find some place private, sweetheart. Don’t want just anyone walking in while I ruin you, now do we?”

“Let’s go then,” you smirked. She stuck her strap back in her bag and took it along, following you through the corridors back stage. A few people stopped you to tell you how amazing the match was and while you appreciated all of the attention, the only person’s attention that mattered was Rhea’s.

You finally found an empty room, seemingly used for storage. There was a single chair in the corner and the rest of the room was filled with props and outfits. You quickly locked the door behind you making Rhea laugh.

“Desperate tonight, hm? Can’t wait for me to split that pussy open I bet,” she said. “Strip for me.”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Perhaps you were overeager, but you didn’t care. She could tease you about it later, you just needed her hands on you now.

“Your turn,” you said, pulling off your last article of clothing.

“What? You don’t want me to fuck you in my gear? I know how much you like it.” She ran a finger down your face and the length of your neck. Her touch send a chill down your spine making you shiver.

“As hot as you look in it, can’t exactly do what I want to with it on,” you told her.

“And what is it you want to do?” She asked.

“I wanna taste you. Please? I’ve been craving it all night,” you begged.

“This is supposed to be about you, love,” she argued.

“I don’t care. Right now I just need you.”

As much as you loved when Rhea would throw you around and be in control, you also loved worshipping her and her amazing body. She’d never admit it, but she had never had someone make her feel as amazing as you and she loved having you between her thighs.

“Such a naughty girl, needing my pussy in that slutty little mouth of yours.”

She quickly herself of her gear and beckoned you over.

“On your knees.”

You quickly obeyed and knelt in front of her. She tossed a leg over your shoulder and grabbed onto a spare rack to balance herself.

You wasted no time in teasing your tongue through her folds. She let out a content sigh and let her eyes close so she could focus on your ministrations between her legs.

You found her clit and begin to circle it with your tongue. You had spent plenty of time going down on Rhea in the last few days that you knew what would make her tick.

You suck on her clit lightly before moving down and teasing her entrance. You switched to licking thick strips up and down her pussy and the moans quickly began to fall from her lips.

Her free hand wrapped itself in your hair as she began to guide your movements; she still needed some level of control after all. Your hands reached around, grabbing her ass and giving it a squeeze.

“You’re a cheeky little thing tonight,” she chuckled. “You’re making me feel so good.”

You quickened your pace between her legs and you swore she even began to tremble above you. Before you knew it, her grip on your hair was tightening and she was fucking your face through her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby; you’re amazing,” she moaned, finally releasing you from her grip. “Stay right there.”

She grabbed her strap from her bag and slid it on. She came back over and stood in front of you again.

“Suck it.”

“Excuse me?” You asked.

“You heard me. Suck it and get it all wet and ready for your pussy,” she said. You opened your mouth and took it in inch by inch. You bobbed your head slowly at first, getting used to the feeling. Once you got more into it, you increased your speed. Rhea was staring down at you mesmerized. You got a bit too enthusiastic with it and ended up gagging a bit.

“Shit, baby, I think we’re good,” she said, pulling away from you. “Lay down for me. I wanna watch as I ravage you.”

You did as she said, your back hitting the cold floor beneath you. She slid the strap through your folds a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“So wet for me baby; is that all just from eating me out?” She asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Of cour- oh fuck!” Rhea cut you off by sinking into your pussy until she was flush against you.

She pulled out slowly before sinking back in at the same speed. She watched as your pussy took her inch by inch. Once she was satisfied that you were completely full, she set a brutal pace. It nearly knocked the air from your lungs but you managed to praise her nonetheless.

“Look at you, pretty girl- taking my cock so well. This pussy is all mine, yeah?”

You were too far gone to answer, but her hand wrapping around your throat brought you back to reality.

“Yes, all yours!”

“That’s my girl,” she chuckled. She didn’t let her rhythm falter as she began to circle your clit with her thumb.

“I’m so close, don’t stop!” You begged.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she said, using all her remaining strength to fuck into you relentlessly. The coil inside you snapped, sending you over the edge. You swore your vision blacked out for a moment before coming back down to earth. She slowed to a stop once your orgasm had slowed to a stop. She pulled out of you and frowned as you winced.

“Was I too rough, sweetheart?” She asked, placing a soft hand on your cheek.

“Not at all! That was completely mind-blowing if I’m being honest,” you reassured her. She gave you a warm smile as she took off the strap and grabbed your clothes. She helped you off the floor and steadied you, your legs feeling like jello beneath you.

“Easy there,” she chuckled. She helped you get dressed before redressing herself.

“I’ll give twice as much effort if that’s my reward for every match we win,” you told her playfully.

“I promise I’ll reward you as much as you want,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You ready to get out there, champ?” You asked with a beaming smile.

“As long as you’re by my side, I’m ready for anything.”

—————————

Please comment and reblog!

[mortiskiller]

How I Manage Food Costs as a Feedist

Preface: I often see people in this community post about struggling with food insecurity and managing food costs. These are just some tips that have helped me when I was down to the last few dollars and needed to eat for a few weeks. I understand circumstances are different for everyone, and some people struggle even with this level of food security, I have been there. My intention is to help.

With food prices still high—often due to profit gouging—I’ve found ways to manage my food budget, and the secret is simple: **eat at home!** Growing up in extreme poverty with two working parents, eating at home was pretty much our only option, aside from takeout once every few months. My parents taught me the value of home cooking, and while it takes time to develop essential skills, Making sauces, learning how to prep and clean ingredients, cooking veggies, preparing meats, etc., once you have them, there’s a whole world of recipes within reach.

Here’s how I manage food costs, and how you can too:

1. Weekly/Monthly Shopping Essentials

Start with the basics—items you’ll need to shop for regularly to cover your meals for a week or two. Building a pantry depends on the storage space you have, but here are some key ingredients to keep on hand:

- Milk (1 to 2 gallons, depending on your choice—I go with 1%)

- Eggs (18 count)

- Bread (1 loaf) (I also recommend tortillas as they last longer than bread and can be used for nearly any bread needs)

- Rolls or Croissants (If you shop at a bulk store, you can get a dozen for $6.)

- Fruits: Change with the season, but apples, oranges, and grapes are solid year-round choices. In the summer, throw in some berries and stone fruit.

- Veggies for Prep: Stick to simple, versatile veggies like green bell peppers, zucchini, onions, potatoes, and chilies.

- Butter: Unsalted sweet cream butter is my favorite! Go for sticks instead of tubs for a better per-unit cost.

- Leafy Greens: A bag of spinach or romaine hearts

- Cheese: Shredded cheese works best and if you want to save more, buy a block and slice or shred it yourself.

These staples give you a variety of flavors, textures, and nutrition to build meals around, whether you’re whipping up sides, salads, or more complex dishes.

2. Protein, Protein, Protein!

Protein is an essential part of a healthy diet, but you don’t need to overdo it or overspend. I’ve found that chicken and tofu are some of the most affordable and versatile protein sources available (unless you’re hunting your own!). Both freeze well and can be used in a variety of recipes with different seasonings and marinades.

You can also look at beef, but stick to lean beef and fish as you do not want to pay for fat that will not end up in your food.

3. Shelf-Stable Items to Buy in Bulk

Buying in bulk can be a game changer, especially if you stock up on shelf-stable items. If you’re short on storage space, invest in an airtight tote to keep things organized. Start with common essentials like:

- Flour (Good ole AP with cover you most of the time)

- Sugar

- Baking Powder

- Baking Soda

- Brown Sugar

- Cooking Oil (I go for olive oil and canola oil)

These staples are the foundation of countless recipes and, when stored properly, can last for months or even a year.

4. Season Early, Season Often

Spices are what make food magical! You don’t need fancy brands—stick with basics that offer single-ingredient profiles. My go-to spices are:

- Salt

- Pepper

- Garlic Powder

- Onion Powder

- Thyme

- Oregano

- Paprika

- Cumin

- Cinnamon

- Chili Powder

- Vanilla Extract

- Bouillon Cubes

- Red Pepper Flakes

These spices will give you all the flavor you need to create a variety of meals without breaking the bank.

5. Canned Goods: The Unsung Hero

Canned goods are a staple in my kitchen. They offer consistent quality, low prices, and a long shelf life. Plus, they’re great for backup when fresh ingredients are low. Some key canned items to keep on hand are:

- Pinto Beans

- Crushed Tomatoes

- Tomato Paste

- Tomato Sauce

- Boiled White Potatoes

- Herring or Sardines

- Tuna

- Fruit Cocktail

- Peaches

- Pears

- Broth or Stock

These ingredients can help you create filling and versatile meals on a budget.

6. Where You Shop Matters

The store you shop at can make a huge difference in food prices. Here’s how to stretch your budget even further:

Bulk Stores: Invest in a membership at places like Sam’s Club, Costco, or BJ’s. The $100 yearly fee is usually paid for in savings after just a few trips. Protein, especially beef and fish, is almost always cheaper in bulk stores.

Walmart and Aldi: These stores are great for extras like frozen veggies, fresh produce, dairy items, and baked goods. Their prices are hard to beat!

Hope this helps and feel free to reblog or comment with your own tips and tricks!

Stick to Your List: One of the easiest ways to overspend and waste food is by shopping without a plan. Make a list, and stick to it. This will help keep your budget in check and prevent unnecessary purchases.

By following these steps, you can keep your food costs down while still eating healthy and delicious meals. The key is planning ahead, shopping smart, and keeping a well-stocked pantry!

[nipuni]

Time for an old school blog post, Hello!

Just various updates about life and shows and clothes and some photos! Adding a read more cut because I talk too much 😊

Happy equinox everyone!! The mild weather has been wonderful for daily park walks. We have been taking our meals outside as often as we can to make the most of it before summer scorches the land and all life. The longer days allow for a lot more wandering too but the imminent return of the heat is also making the longing to move up north worse by the day. We miss the choppy ocean and seaside cliffs 😭 We love the silence and the rain and the nippy sea breeze!! it's like being suspended in early spring for half the year and a rainy autumn the other half, Ideal if you don't mind humidity, but that's what wellies and flat caps are for. We have been looking for properties to rent to show up everyday so for now we lie in wait.

Speaking of nature, a few months ago we discovered a free app called Plantnet that you use to take and upload photos of plants, trees, flowers and it will identify them for you. You keep a log with their locations and can share them too to help contribute to each local biodiversity database. It feels like a pokedex for plants. There are many apps like this one to choose from too. It's been so fun learning what all these plants are called and memorizing them! I recommend it, is like a little educational side quest to take on while stretching your legs and getting some fresh air. This is not an ad I promise lmao I just think it's neat! kind of sad feeling the need to clarify that.

This weather is also making me want to start making outfit posts again! It's been so long since I made any!! my winter wardrobe is mostly long wool coats or capes and boots so the inspiration wasn't there but now I'm ready to pull out all my stuff back from under my bed storage and experiment again 👏 I've also been meaning to share some of Nicolas outfits for ages too so there is more variety, could be fun!

Speaking of clothes, lately I've grown more and more frustrated with how poorly most clothes fit me to the point where I'm considering learning how to make them from scratch. I usually have to take in the tops and hem the bottoms but most things I try on are just built weird even if I fix the size, or maybe I'm built weird! I think it may be both. Nicolas also said he would love to learn along with me so we will probably embark on that adventure soon. OH and on a short tangent, I got myself a sort of binder-like top that flattens the chest a bit and I'm loving it! I'm very flat already but what little bust I do have has always bothered me when I dress and I've found I feel a lot more comfortable in this type of top. I'm glad I tried it out so if you feel similarly you may want to give it a go too, see how it feels!

On the media side of things we have also been watching more of David Tennant's work. We are still very much in love with him to an embarrassing degree, you can probably tell if you follow me anywhere, my likes on twitter alone give me away alksjdf and Nicolas isn't any better! if he used social media his would look the same lmao.

Since my last report we have watched and absolutely LOVED "There She Goes" we already want to watch it again honestly. The family dynamics for all his characters are always so real and refreshing!! Their relationship with their wives especially are always so believable in every series we've seen, the comfort and camaraderie, the banter and just friendship! You can tell they enjoy each other's company, it feels true. I love it so much!!

We also watched "Inside man" which was..a very stressful mess but David was incredible as always, also very hot and very pitiful which is always great, and Stanley Tucci was on it! so that's also fun.

Then we rewatched season one of Good Omens and the first 4 seasons of Doctor Who, with all the extra content like the Confidentials, deleted scenes, video diaries and more, they are just so good!! our list of favourite episodes keeps growing, season four is incredible, we are loving all these seasons even more the second time around!! Now we are probably going to start watching either Classic Who or Torchwood, along with more of David's work. We were trying to pick what to watch during dinner the other day and Nicolas was like 'damn, David is not in this though, I miss him' and lmao same so now we just watch one show without him and one with him right after to cope 😂

OH we have also been doing more historical reenactment! Since the last one in the 20's we jumped back to Regency times. We have been putting our outfits together for a ball soon and hopefully another one in autumn in the UK 😊 1800 is the farthest back in time we've been yet so it's been fun doing research, finding pieces and learning the dances in class but also very hectic. I'll share more about this soon!

Then we also have a couple of 1900 events coming soon, so I'll be sharing more Edwardian looks as well, our favourite era!!

Anyway I think that's all for now, thanks for reading to whoever is doing so!! I know this is long and not a popular blogging format anymore but I enjoy it a lot, maybe some of you do too 🥰 I will reply to some messages soon, I'm so sorry I'm so bad at keeping up with those!! I've read them all and cherish every word 🥺 Thank you for supporting my art and shenanigans as always!! I hope you have a great week!!

[natashaslittlegirl]

Sweet Sin - WM

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Sweet Sin | Sweet Wanda | Sweet blood

Summary: Your dream university and the one to which you were admitted is Catholic, the last requirement is that you have to take communion. Being a non-believer girl you were going to give up, until you remembered one of your neighbors thay could help, Wanda Maximoff, head of the choir and catholic teacher in your town.

Catholic teacher ! Wanda Maximoff x Student ! Reader

Smut, dirty talk, oral sex (w receiving), vaginal fingering (w receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, finger sucking, semi-public sex, church sex, age gap (legal r).

Words Count: 1400+ 

Wattpad Masterlist Wanda Maximoff's Masterlist

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"Thank you, Miss Maximoff, for agreeing to teach me," you said smiling at the woman in front of you. "I really appreciate it."

"It's okay sweetheart, it's never too late." She smiles back at you to start catechism class.

You didn't like the church, or God, or anything that has to do with religion, but the university of your dreams was Catholic, so you swallowed your pride and started with communion to be able to enter.

Your neighbor, Miss Maximoff, was very sweet to you, letting you into the church for private lessons, she couldn't put you in the class with the nine and ten year olds kids, it would be torture.

So that's what your summer Saturdays were going to be like, three hours in church between Wanda's classes, and then the one-hour mass.

Sometimes you stayed a little longer than you should, helping your neighbor tidy up the rooms and the church. It is the least you could do since she was helping you fulfill your dream.

Not only that, you also had a little crush on her. The woman was beautiful, but she was unfortunately married to a disgusting man and she had two children, she was also extremely devoted to God, which if she found out that you are a lesbian she would probably pass out.

This Sunday the church had a charity event, a food fair with the whole town participating so that the money raised goes to the orphanage.

Wanda requested your help to prepare the salon for the event, which was behind the church, so here you were carrying chairs from the church storage room to the salon.

You spent all morning carrying and bringing things, your arms were already tired from so much effort, but it was worth it, since seeing the beautiful woman who gave you private lessons, in a black dress that fits perfectly fine her figure was worth all your time.

"Honey, can you help me bring some boxes from the storage room? I've already put the food on the tables, just need the decorations." She asked you smiling to which you nodded and walked next to her.

"My arms just hurt a bit, is it heavy what we have to carry, Wanda?" She tortured you into calling her by her name, you that calling her by her last name so formally made her feel old, even though you assured her she wasn't.

What you didn't know was that she didn't want you to call her that because of how much it turned her on, having that little authority over you.

"Oh, swettie, why didn't you tell me you were tired?" She stopped before entering the deposit, putting one of her hands on your cheek, caressing it.

"Because I'm okay, Miss Maximoff, I can go on" you smiled assuring her not to worry. A devilish grin formed on her face at hearing her name.

"You were a very good girl for me all morning honey, helping me so well, I think you deserve a reward don't you?" The smirk on her face got you, nodding as fast as you could. "Come with me, baby."

She opened the door, entering the room and closing the door right after you passed, leading you by the hand to where the organ was, the one that played every time the choir sang. Wanda positioned herself on top of it, putting you between her legs.

"Do you want your reward, sweetheart?" Her hand still grabbing yours, you gave it a squeeze as you nodded. She released you to start pulling her dress up, leaving it coiled to her hips, your lips parting at the revealing of her bare wet pussy, glistening with the little sunlight coming through a window.

Your mouth watered, there she was, legs spread, almost dripping in front of you. You sighed at the thought of tasting her, your hands went to her thighs, caressing them.

"Come on, take it, honey." she encouraged you and you fell to your knees to the ground, without taking your eyes off hers, now dark green, full of lust and desire.

You didn't waste another second and brought your face closer to your neighbor's pussy, the most devoted woman to God in the whole town was now exposed and wet at your disposal. And you were totally ready to sin.

Your tongue curled over her clit, causing her hands to go to your hair at the first lick, making you moan at the sweet taste of her.

If this was like eating the forbidden fruit, you'll sin every day for her, the most delicious and sweet sin you tasted in your entire life.

"Mhm yes, so good, dear." Wanda was trying not to moan so loudly, as even the little sounds echoed in the giant room, but you didn't care, you wanted her to scream until there was no air left in her lungs.

Your tongue ran up and down her wet folds, alternating between her entrance and her clit, her hand still in your hair, pulling you closer, if that was possible.

You plunged a finger into her without warning, stealing a loud deep moan from her throat, causing her to bring her own hand to her mouth to muffle the sounds coming from her.

You started slow, making her growl in desperation, bucking her hips against your face, another finger entered her, now two were working on her entrance while your tongue was on her clit, licking and sucking it.

Wanda's legs began to shake, squeezing your head, curling your fingers inside her, touching her g-spot, she felt in heaven.

You looked up, seeing how she had her head thrown back, one of her hands still covering her mouth, her brows knitted together and her chest heaving sharply for air.

"Don't stop honey, I'm so close, oh you're so good at this."

You doubled your efforts, even though you were already tired, but all of that vanished with the moans that Wanda let out of her lips.

"Oh fucking god, I-I'm gonna cum." and you stopped, suddenly you stopped and she looked down at you, with her eyes wide open and furrowed brows, not understanding what happened.

"That's not my name." and then she realized.

"Come on, Y/N, don't fuck with me now" a smirk formed on your face, her deep and agitated tone of voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way your name left her lips sent a wave of wetness to your core.

"I am fucking you now, Miss Maximoff." She growled at her name, grabbing your hair to pull it hard, making you groan at the tight grip.

"Don't be a brat now and make me cum, or you're gonna regret this." Her voice loaded with authority was all it took to start moving your fingers again, fast and hard, curling them while your tongue sucked on her already swollen clit.

Wanda came undone moaning your name, falling from her lips like every Sunday prayer. Getting you soaked with her cumming while you helped her ride her high.

You pulled your fingers out of her, bringing them to her mouth, for her to licking them clean, she moaned at her own taste.

"You taste so good, Miss Maximoff."

"I can't wait to taste you, my good little angel."

You shared a wet yet soft kiss, with her hands fixing your messy hair and yours in the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. When the lack of air became present, you both separated, you helped her get off the organ and adjusted her dress.

"Come on, we still have to decorate the room, sweet girl," but before going to the church, Wanda grabbed your wrist pulling you closer to her, your back crashing to her front just to whisper in your ear "I'll wait for you after the event."

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 1}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smut piv smut, unprotected piv, dirty talk, joel miller's filthy mouth, kinda enemies to lovers?, degrading language, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry

A/N: this...this is a scary thing for me to share. this is so closely drawn from my life and the things i've experienced in my twenties (as far as the restaurant stuff goes, i was never fortunate enough to catch the eyes of someone as alluring as our dear joel). i'm fully aware that i don't need another WIP but this has been comsuming me lately and i wanted to share despite the trepidation. c'est la vie, no?

ao3 link || series masterlsit || main masterlist

“Fuck.” You moaned, the sound filling the cool air of the walk in, back arching as you tried to push back against the man who had sheathed the entirety of his hard length into you with one smooth, drawn out move so attuned to your body. His grip on your hips was bruising, the feeling of him gripping tight to your shoulder even more so, but he didn’t move.

He seemed frozen, head bowed down and forehead connected with the back of your head, hands gripping tight, chest heaving with each deep breath and brushing hot against your back. Murmured words falling from his plush lips too quiet for you to catch, but you were sure if he could safely do so, he would be praising you in that filthy way he was prone to do. His large thighs were pressed to the backs of your own and the feel of his chef pants was rough on the naked skin of your thighs where he had pushed up the skirt of the dress you had worn for your shift.

“Please, Joel, I need you to move.” You circled your hips, grinding back on the entire length of him and you could feel yourself clench. A guttural moan sounded from his lips, puffing out in a misty breath.

“What did I tell you about bein’ a good girl f’me?” The hard line of him twitched deep inside you and your knees wobbled. The hand on your waist curled around your middle to help keep you upright, lest they give out on you completely. He pulled out nearly all the way only to slam back in, it took everything in you not to scream from the pleasure as white sparked across your vision. Your teeth digging into the hands that were grasping desperately onto the edge of the metal storage shelf you were pressed up against. Trying to hide the sound in an effort to keep the secret that had become your personal life just that, something shared in moments of spiking passion and deep kisses between you and the man who enraptured you beyond anything you had experienced before.

Thoughts swirled and your mind took you back to the events that transpired to allow this type of pleasure to be something that you owned, that you took, that was given to you by the man whose hands were holding you so tightly and pounding into you so deliciously.

“I think a play on mint would be a good idea, for the paired cocktail. I could whip up a batch of simple syrup infused with it or order a case of crème de menthe. But I’ll mess around with it and get back with y’all in a few days before the order needs to be placed.” You jotted down what glasses you were thinking of, a choice between a martini glass, a coup, and a tall rocks class. You pushed your reading glasses back up your nose, the frames having slipped down the bridge as you scribbled half ideas down in your small notebook. “Chef, will the mash be sweet potato or more like the topping for the Shepard’s pie we did last fall? And the balsamic, will it be a glaze over the brussels or will they be cooked with it?”

Joel Miller’s eyes seemed to snap to you, he had offered his new rotation of dishes for the fall menu and promptly spaced out. He never seemed to pay attention to anything else in the higher up meetings for the restaurant you worked at. You had been here for a year now. Having been hired as a general bartender and then bumped up to manager around two months in. You had to do an order on the fly for the bar when it was revealed that the manager had made a faux one and pocketed the money for themselves. To say they had been fired would be an understatement. They were no longer allowed to work for any part of the company.

You don’t think you had ever met his eyes before and you were beginning to think that was a blessing in disguise. His eyes were such a warm, chocolate brown that lit up into an amber wonderland that you could find yourself getting lost in when they caught the light. It took you a moment to realize that he was answering your questions. This was the first instance of a menu change that you had the chance to ask questions. His gaze wandered over what he could see of you as you sat across the table from him, further down by the barback you had chosen to help out with keeping the tickets flowing well and running drinks when the servers were busy.

“Was thinkin’ of sweet potatoes, to compliment the lamb. It won’t be a traditional mint jelly, more of a yogurt based mint sauce topped before leaving the line.” He glanced down at the menu he had provided for the meeting. It was simple and to the point. Underneath one of the new dishes, the special due to the cost of sourcing the lamb was simple descriptors. Special: Lamb. Mash. Brussels. Mint. Balsamic.

“Sounds yummy, and the balsamic, chef?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” He grunted out, not sure what to think of you asking after the dish. Sure, he knew you needed to know the components properly for each dish of the special in order to pair it properly with a house made drink. But you were so…something he wasn’t used to seeing. You had a good balance of professional and personable, both on the clock and off. He noticed some of his cooks offering you tastes of stuff they were working on during prep hours and returned dishes that came back to the kitchen. The other servers often mentioned you helping them with rowdy or difficult tables, were more than willing to help them if they didn’t know questions asked after the drinks offered and wine selection.

More often than not, people from both the front of house and back of house would sit at the bar with you after their shifts. Idle chit chat and horror stories of the night told between laughs and knowing looks. Bonding in ways that could only happen as a result of working in such a space, of being able to handle working in such a space.

He shook his head, the thoughts of you disappearing with the movement and he shoved off from the table to slink back into the kitchen. He stopped at the threshold of the dining room, your gentle voice in his ears and he stifled a shiver at the thought of your lips close enough to whisper into them. What kind of things would you be brave enough to say in hushed tones just for him? Would you whisper filthy desires into his ears and cause heat to spark down his spine, or would you beg him for the things he wanted to say to you, the things he saw flash before his closed eyes when he would see how effortlessly you knocked out a line of tickets, or helped to expo his line during the times in which spacing out tables was only a wish.

“Gotcha. Thank you, chef.”

Despite his better judgement he turned to look back at you over his shoulder, just in time to see you smile softly at him before turning your focus back to the meeting. He almost hadn’t, unsure of where the sudden salacious nature of his thoughts had sprung up from. And his heartrate picked up as he crossed into his kitchen space.

The manager of the restaurant was pacing back and forth in front of the host stand, phone held tightly to her ear as she listened to the voice bleeding from the other line. It was summer, the season of call outs and no call no shows. As predictable as the looks of glee on servers and cooks faces alike as checks hit their accounts on a weekly basis, the tip out rate through the roof with the influx of tourists and lively people of the city. The manager prided herself in being able to provide a good base pay for everyone, ignoring the cheap cop out of matching the other establishments of the area and the country in general.

None of that $2.13/hour nonsense, she had smiled genuinely at you in your interview, the softness of her excitement allowing you to seriously consider the industry you had left a few years previously in favor of going back to school, of taking the monumental step of becoming a teachers assistant at your alma mater. But grad school was around the corner, something you needed in order to pursue your dreams.

But even that wasn’t a good enough allure to keep the younger members of society committed to their shifts, especially after a particularly busy week. The restaurant world wasn’t for everyone, and it was quick to humble people in ways that still took you off guard even after having been entrenched in it for a good chunk of your twenties.

With a long sigh, a worn-out thin smile, and the harsh placement of the phone back into the charging station atop the host stand, that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen you only drifted through previously.

“You know anythin’ about preppin’ food?” The calculating look aimed down at you as Joel stood beside you in front of a prep station was sharp, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The sleeves of his chef’s coat folded up to expose the thickness of his forearms.

“Of course, we prep the-“

“Not fruit. Food. Actual food.”

The fact that he cut you off mid reply made your jaw clench and you had to hold your tongue back from spewing a bad comment. You had never been treated like that at this job, in the entire year that you’ve been here. Everyone had always been polite and friendly and professional. Things you were in return, the kitchen even going so far as to offer you the rare dead plate or extras from staff meal you were always unable to snag any of due to your schedule. People would stay and hang out at the bar after their shifts ended, often bringing you treats on their off days to share as you frequently brought stuff for the front of house to have snacks and rounds of their favorite drinks to stay hydrated during busy hours. This often extended to the back of house as well, if you had the time and means to.

The divide seen so cleanly in other restaurants was something that you tried to eradicate here, not play into the ‘this versus them’ ideology that plagues too many establishments and allowed for more errors and unhappy customers.

That’s not to say there was the odd throwaway comment in the heat of dinner rush or particularly challenging event, but those were brushed under the table as they were harmless. But this, this animosity for someone willing to help out when it was desperately needed, was uncalled for and sparking annoyance in your chest.

You hadn’t really interacted with Joel directly. Just in passing and hardly for longer than a professional acknowledgment during staff meetings when a new dish would be rolling out and you needed to make a cocktail or wine pairing for it. To be honest, you hadn’t spoken to him out of the childish daydream of not wanting the image of the handsome man to be shattered in your mind’s eye. Guess you were right to worry about something being wrong with him to warrant him to spend what seemed like his entire life in the damn kitchen. He had a superiority complex, it seemed.

But for him to be rude and cut you off after already making it clear he didn’t want you in his kitchen?

Game, fucking, on.

“Oh, no,” You adjusted the fit of the black gloves around your right wrist before you carefully picked up the chef knife and tapped the tip of it on the cutting board. Joel’s eyes were heavy and judgmental as you did so, he probably disliked the way you had needed to get the feel of the knife before using it. But he stayed silent, the furrow of his brows and the turndown of his plush lips deepening as you quickly and efficiently broke down the chicken. Once you were done, you placed the knife along the edge of the cutting board beside the line made up of a pair of breasts, thighs, legs, wings, and the severed spine of the chicken. “I don’t think I’m any good with actual food, chef.”

The controlled expression you were holding didn’t break, even when one of Joel’s eyebrows seemed to rise without conscious thought as his sharp eyes danced from the cutting board atop the prep station to you standing at attention in front of it. The tick in his jaw was garnering your attention, an obvious show to what the man was really feeling at your little display. Despite his less than kind attitude toward you, you couldn’t help the flash of heat that flared up in your middle at the thought of sucking kisses into the cut of his jaw, right where it was showing is ire. The surrounding kitchen staff were all peering over toward your new station with wide eyes, unbelieving that you were deliberately feigning innocence in a cheeky manner toward the head chef.

He may be an asshole, he may be loud, he may be particular, and he may have high standards: but no one argued with him because of his skill set and how effortlessly he displayed it day in and day out.

“Now, I believe we prep a total of 56 for the night shift. After dissembling them, they get placed into a salt brine to allow the skin to brown and crisp easier when braised or pan roasted. With an extra 4 just in case of dishes going to the wrong table or mix ups with servers not paying attention to the available par, is that correct, chef?”

Your lips turned up in a small grin and you knocked your gaze up to catch the man’s eyes. There was a fire behind them, one you were sure he was about to unleash on you in front of the entire staff. He was known for his outbursts when really upset, whether it be from someone not listening to clear instructions or a count gone wrong and messing up the rotation of dishes that could be offered that shift. Instead, he gave you a curt nod and told you to complete the prep by time the doors were to open and walked briskly away.

You spent the rest of the evening prepping the necessary things for the dinner service. You could’ve just done what had been asked of you, but you peeked at the long list of things that needed to be done by the person who had bailed on their shift, on the job and decided that the bar would be okay on a weekday night without you.

You prepped the chickens for the evening and the chickens for tomorrow’s service so the kitchen wouldn’t be behind like it had nearly been today. You had diced in perfect cubes the pickled beets for the panzanella salad and the components for the egg salad to be combined. Portioned out the ingredients for the brine and brought them to a soft boil atop a hot plate for a new batch of pickles and prepared the cucumbers with a mandolin. Sliced and portioned out the bologna and pancetta used for sandwiches, and even sliced the other components like the provolone cheese, cucumbers, and tomatoes used on them as well.

You neatly organized and legibly dated everything before breaking down the station at the end of the night. Even taking everything out of the banes and running them through dish and drying them before placing them back in their respective locations underneath the hood. Going as far as to deep clean the cooler shelves down below, wiping them down and sanitizing the entire station before putting everything back according to FIFO etiquette and wrapping it all up for the night.

The next day, your schedule was updated with two hours of prep before your typical shifts for the bar.

next chapter

[ghostwise]

intertwining their legs together

It’s more a storage closet than an apartment. Inside there is enough room for a bed, and a chest where they keep their supplies, which doubles as a table for eating. The entrance is located along an exterior flight of rickety stairs, facing a tree-lined alley.

By all accounts it’s subpar. But the rent is cheap, and there’s even a lock.

When Hamal starts lining the door in dried herbs and moss, that’s when Zevran starts to worry.

It’s hard not to wonder about this taste of domesticity they have found. Zevran reminds himself they are here only as long as their investigation into the Crows will take them. That soon they will be on the road again, leaving their customary trail of blood behind them.

But for now, he is sleeping against the wall, which they have carefully covered in a thick quilt for comfort. Hamal is beside him. The alienage is quiet.

This arrangement works well; it keeps Zevran warm, sandwiched between the quilt and Hamal, and it does wonders for his nightmares, which have declined significantly since living here.

And as Hamal overheats easily, he nightly opts to sleep without covers or a shirt.

Thank the Maker for Antivan summers.

“One could get used to this sort of thing,” Zevran murmurs from his side of the narrow bed.

“Mm,” Hamal hums in agreement. “Very cozy.”

“Well, yes,” Zevran agrees, shifting closer. “But I mean all of this. A room. A bed. A quilt. Beeswax candles and dried rosemary.” His voice slips into something almost wistful. “A door between us and the world… and the key to it, right here in my bag…”

“Vhenan?”

“I am simply enjoying it while it lasts,” Zevran concludes with a smile. “I hope wherever we stay next will be as pleasant.”

“It will be,” Hamal replies. “Anywhere is, if you’re there.”

“Charmer!” Zevran laughs.

He intertwines their legs and slides an arm around Hamal’s waist, loosely brushing his fingers along his spine. “But truly, amor, where will we go when this is all done? I have never once considered myself the type to… settle down anywhere. And yet, laying here with you… well. I could easily forget the Crows.”

“The things you say.”

“I mean it,” Zevran insists.

Hamal grins widely at that. He closes the distance between them, nuzzling lightly against his cheek—an act which somehow strikes Zevran as more intimate than a kiss.

He switches to Antivan for the next part, the words spoken close to Zevran’s ear: “¿Dónde se te antoja vivir?”

Zevran shivers. He thinks about it a bit, as he has never thought about it seriously. Even while they were in Ferelden, the future was not very clear, save for it being at Hamal’s side.

“Var’myathan?” he offers at last.

“What?”

Zevran blinks. It must have been an unexpected answer; Hamal has drawn back, enough to look at him, wide-eyed.

“Surely you agree,” Zevran says. “You made it possible, after all. That the People have land to call their own is all thanks to you. We should go back to see it.”

“Oh,” Hamal says simply, and Zevran can see the thoughts stirring in those pale eyes of his. “I- I never thought so.”

“Ah? Truly?”

“Zevran,” Hamal says patiently. “You hate the cold.”

This is unexpected. Zevran clasps a hand over his mouth, smothering the beginnings of his laughter.

“It is very sweet of you to pretend otherwise,” Hamal continues. “But you would be miserable. What a poor husband I’d be to take you somewhere so uncomfortable for you!”

Zevran bursts out laughing. “I wouldn’t put it like that. I would go willingly, happily! And you haven’t exactly hidden your disdain for the climate here, so-”

“Creators!” Hamal gasps at the implication. “No, that is different.”

“Mmhm. How?”

“Zevran! It just is.”

But they are both laughing now. The bed shakes with it, and Hamal sits up, slipping from his embrace.

“Wait! I have a proposition,” Zevran says. “Summers in Var’myathan. We can visit with your family then. Winters in Antiva City, by the sea. The rest of the time, we travel, just like this.”

Hamal smiles at him over his shoulder.

And Zevran said it on a whim, but now he wants it so badly it’s a sudden pressure in his chest. He wants to add, please. But they’re already married. What else can he say? He holds out his arms, and smiles when Hamal returns to them warmly.

“Deal.”

[lainiespicewrites]

Electric Summer Ch 4

I’m sorry this took me so long! But I finally finished my math class and had the time to write!

Summary Big day with the campers big day for Sy and Lainie, and a hurt camper 😭

Let me know what you think comments and reblogs always welcome!!

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My morning starts with a shake. I open my eyes slowly to find Emma standing next to my bunk. Her little hand gently rocked my shoulder. “Emma? You okay?” my voice groggy as I leaned up on my elbows. She nodded

“Yeah, sorry,” she whispered. “ I just wanted to tell you I’m heading to the showers in case you woke up and I was gone. I didn’t want you to worry.” I nodded fully sitting up in my bunk reaching to check my phone. It was 6:27 my alarm would be going off soon anyway.

“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll be heading that way myself soon. Thank you for telling me.” I kept my voice quiet. I wouldn’t start to get everyone else up until I got back. She smiled and left the cabin walking off toward the bathrooms. I’m so glad that I was with the older kids. I wouldn’t have any issue escorting them around or making sure everyone had a buddy to go with. But it was nicer just having an honor system and giving them their freedom.

Standing from the bunk I stretched pulling my bag from the Bunk above me. None of the girls decided to sleep up there so I used it for storage. I grabbed my shower bag. I grabbed another pair of shorts. It was going to be a chilly morning because of the rain so I searched for a sweatshirt and found an old highschool sports hoodie. There was a light earthy smell outside of the cabin. The storm last night made everything damp. The sky was just becoming light. To the west it was a dusty blue and to the east where the sun was rising there were beautiful orange hues. There were a few showers running creating a soft white noise to the background of my morning. I let the water wake me and gave myself a fresh start for the day ahead. When I got back to the cabin 2 more of the girls were starting to get themselves around. Taylor was just heading out as I was coming in and Ryleigh was just standing out of her bunk.

“Good morning,” I spoke softly and smiled. My towl was still wrapped around my head. She gave me a tired smiled and mumbled back a sleepy

“Morning,” I watched her for a moment as she rooted through her bag finding what she was looking for. I straightened up my bed quickly before I sat down criss-cross, towel drying my hair and brushing it out.

“There’s plenty of showers open if you’re headed that way!” I told her. She nodded.

“I was gonna go for a walk first if that’s okay? She asked.

I checked my phone, it was 6:45 “Breakfast is in a little over an hour, so just be back before then okay?” I smiled. She nodded and thanked me before throwing on a sweatshirt and some sneakers. She walked past me and I heard the cabin door slam.

I smiled to myself as I pulled out my notebook looking over our schedule for the day. Today was going to be really fun! The “Leaders” groups, Aka the high school aged kids, had a huge scavenger hunt set up all across camp. During the storm last night while Sy and I were talking with some of our fellow counselors we decided to make it a battle between all the individual cabins instead of our “family” cabins. Which meant we were in competition with the boys. Anything that ended up being a battle of the sexes was always a blast! We always seemed to play harder, but there were never any hard feelings. Although the boys were much more likely to be sore losers. And far more likely to rub it in if they won. We hadn’t told our campers yet. But they were going to love this.

I had the inside door slightly propped open and the windows were up so there was a slight breeze coming in through the screens. Off in the distance I heard a voice that was unmistakably Sy.

“Come on Ethan don’t give up on me already man!” He called. I had no idea what they were doing, surely they weren’t already up to no good before 7am. I let some more time pass as a the rest of the girls got up and got ready for the day. Well almost all of them.

“Nicole.” I said softly shaking her arm, standing on my toes to reach the top bunk. She groaned.

“5 more minutes.” She grumbled. I chuckled to myself. This was the third time I’d tried to wake her.

“Come on sweetheart, you told me yesterday you wanted to be up by 7 its 7:25,” I said gently. I wasn’t necessarily a morning person myself. I understood where she was coming from.

“Well why did it have to come so early,” she sighed throwing her pillow over her head.

“It’s just the way the world works girly. Trust me when I was a camper I hated it too.” I giggled. “But I promise if you get up and get ready there will be coffee at breakfast.” I smiled. That got her attention. She sat up slowly. Her messy hair falling into her eyes.

“Ugh fine,” she said. “But none of the boys better say anything stupid, I’m not responsible for anything that comes out of my mouth before at least 9am!” I chuckled softly.

“Understood.” I said. And left her to get ready for the day. A few minutes before we needed to head over I had the girls meet me outside just to make sure everyone was accounted for. Of course Nicole was my last one out. I smiled to myself. When I saw the boys walking over to join us. A couple of the boys hunched over walking slowly with their hands holding their sides. When they stopped in front of our cabin Ethan dramatically “fell” and laid on the grass

“Morning ladies!” Sy smiled.

“Good morning!” I smiled back. And a few of the girls greeted them as well. “What’d you do to those poor boys?” I laughed.

“Nothing they didn’t ask for.” He chuckled.

“It was torture!” Ethan groaned lifting his head up to look at me from the ground. Beckett looked down at him shaking his head.

“Bro we just went on a run.” Beckett smirked.

“Exactly torture!” he groaned. Sy shook his head.

“You didn’t have to go bud, you coulda slept in,” he chuckled. Ethan sighed dramatically and took the hand Beckett offered him to help him stand.

“Can we go to breakfast now? We get it Ethan you don’t run, I want coffee!” Nicole said playfully pushing past him and walking toward the cafeteria.

“Good morning Nikki,” He called after her a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Shut up,” She bit back without turning around. To be fair she had warned me. I just shook my head holding in a laugh. Sy raised an eye brow and I just smiled as we all started to head in that direction.

“She’s…not a morning person.” I said answering the question hadn’t asked.

“I see that,” He chuckled “Everything go okay for you girls after the storm last night? I uh, I kept thinking about ya,” He smiled. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. Truth be told he was all I was thinking about every second my brain had the free time to wander. I tossed and turned for a while last night trying to shake the giddiness so I could just fall asleep. Being here with him. The way he’d kissed me last night. I felt like I was a teenager again. But with the girls around I had to play it cool. I had to be the remember I was the adult here. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Finally I nodded.

“Yeah the girls were fine, I think I was more shaken up then they were. Everything went pretty smooth this morning!” I said. “I didn’t know you were taking the boys on a run, how’d that go?” I asked. He laughed, keeping an eye on the campers that were now all ahead of us.

“It was good, I like to go for a morning run, so I asked the boys if they wanted to come with, I told them they could tell whoever they wanted to come with us. Couple boys from Tanners cabin showed up. They mostly enjoyed it. Ethan… just likes the attention he gets from putting on a show. Seems to be a good kid though.” He smiled. We walked in silence the rest of the short walk to the building where they served breakfast. There was a deck that came off the back of the building and overlooked the playground. I felt Sy’s hand on my back as we started walking up the steps. I bit my lip softly, embarrassed that such a little touch made me feel so much.

It was something he always did. He wanted to make sure I didn’t fall. Because I did once. When we were younger. It had rained that moring and the steps were slippery. I fell up the steps in front of everyone. My face had gotten so red. I remember being so embarrassed about it. Logan immediately ran over and helped me up. He said something to make me laugh to make me forget about it.

And ever since then he always did the small gesture as support. I didn’t think he’d remembered. But they do say old habits die hard. We caught up with our campers and joined them at our table. Nicole had already managed to get some coffee.

“Aw it’s our first breakfast as a family,” Emma said smiling at the two of us as we sat with them.

“Em don’t make breakfast weird!” Her brother called from across table.

“I’m not the cabins are literally called family groups! You’re the one that makes everything weird!” She argued. These two were hilarious. I found out very quickly, even just having been here a day, it’s best to just let them have their little twin spats. It’s usually over pretty quick.

“How was you’re walk this morning Ryleigh?” I heard Beckett ask as he slid into the seat across from her setting his plate down. She startled a moment not expecting someone to be infront of her and then realized what he’d said.

“Oh, it was good thanks,” She smiled shyly. “How, uh how was your run?” she asked him.

“It was nothing, I’m used to way more than that with football practice.” He shrugged. “You should come run with us next time,” He smiled. She blushed looking down at her pancakes.

“I don’t really run,” she responded.

I looked over at Logan who was grinning at me. He’d heard them too. I raised an eyebrow.

“Did I miss something?” I asked him. He just shook his head and chuckled.

After breakfast the kids had a bit of time to themselves before we started any activities. All of the cabins were supposed to meet on the field next to the park in about an hour or so. A few of the girls went back to the cabin to get the supplies to make friendship bracelets. And some of the other campers had a game of four square going.

Since most of ours were spread out around the park playing games, sitting on the grass talking, or making crafts I decided to sit on the old swings and journal. I didn’t have to watch so closely but I felt better keeping an eye on them. Ryleigh has still been pretty quiet and a couple of my other girls have taken some time to warm up and come out of their shell. I wanted to be close incase they wanted someone to talk to or just to sit with.

The last time I’d looked up Logan had joined the four square game and had worked his way up to the king square. I watched for a minute before I started writing. It wasn’t long before I got lost in my writing and everything in the background turned into white noise. Some time had passed I’m not sure how much but when I looked up again Sy was walking in my direction with a soft smile on his face.

“Hey darlin,” He said as he sat next to me.

“Hi!” I said cheerfully. “They finally kicked you out for being too old?” I teased. He gave me a slight pout before he snickered.

“No, I left the game because I kept winning.” He grinned proudly.

“Mhmm,” I mused. We sat like that for a moment sy had one arm on the back of the swing and he was rocking us slowly rolling his heel.

“Dad!” one of his boys called from across the lawn. Sy perked up and chuckled at the name before he responded.

“What’s up Zach?” He asked.

“When do we have to meet for the scavenger hunt thing?” He asked, still calling from across the park.

“11!” Sy called back checking his watch “You got a little over an hour,” He told him. Zach gave him a thumbs up and it was clear they were starting another game.

I couldn’t help the laugh that came out,

“Dad,huh? When did that start?” I raised an eyebrow. His chest shook with laughter.

“Last night when I got ‘em all corralled back into the cabin, I think Ethan started it and now they’re all doin’ it.” He shook his head. I giggled softly and we fell back into a comfortable silence. It was cute the boys seeing him as a father figure. I’m surprised the girls haven’t started calling me mom yet. I remember doing it when we were here too. It’s what gave this place that sense of home away from home. I liked that Idea. The kids calling us Mom and Dad. Like Sy and I were husband and wife…I blushed. I felt Sy’s eyes on me and my blush deepened. “You wanna go for a little walk with me? Get away for a second?” He asked.

I looked over at all of our campers. They were all preoccupied. All of them intermingled with kids from other cabins. Another group's counselors were sitting in old rocking chairs on the deck chatting. It’s not like we had to be watching over them at every second. They were old enough to know to come get us if something was urgent. Finally I looked back at him and nodded. “Okay,” I answered. I put my journal back in my backpack and slid it on as we started to walk.

“Ethan!” Sy called as we walked past. The boy's head snapped in our direction hearing his name, eyes wide like he was afraid he was in trouble. Sy chuckled and I watched Ethans shoulders relax a little. “Lainie and I are gonna be walking the trail, if you guys need anything you can come find us! I’m trusting you to let the others know .. that includes the girls.” He told him. Ethan nodded and gave him a big smile.

“You got it Dad! I won’t let you down!” He said. I shook my head as we kept walking.

“They adore you!” I laughed.

“Yeah well, I know how to have a good time!,” He smirked. Playfully nudging my shoulder with his. I blushed and pulled my sunglasses down to hide my eyes.

“Don’t I know it!” I replied, trying to keep up. This man was going to be the death of me. He looked over at me for a moment as we crossed the lawn between the cabins and kept going past them. That smirk still plastered on his face.

“You don’t yet Darlin, but you will,” he answered. I didn’t think my face could get any hotter. I looked around to make sure no one had heard our conversation.

“Good lord Logan, you trying to get us into trouble?” I whispered and smacked him playfully on the arm.

“I’m teasin’ baby,” He chuckled. “But we sure as hell wouldn’t be the first ones around here to sneak off and have a little fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I snorted.

“Yeah I know! You don’t have to remind me about the Cait and Josh situation. I can’t believe you helped him with that!” Back when we were campers Cait and Josh were friends of ours. They dated over the summer. They’d “break up” and then get back together every summer. It was such a mess. Josh was such a player and Cait knew it but she didn’t care.

One afternoon we were all off on our own. I was hanging out at the park and noticed Logan and one of their other bunkmates “Standing guard in front of the entrance underneath the big pirate ship on the playground. I was super confused because the guys were usually off playing some sort of sport or something. Sy caught my eye and I raised an eyebrow. He just shook his head with that signature smirk on his lips. But then they moved and Cait came crawling out, her hair was a mess. At first I was more confused, then Josh came crawling out behind her. That stupid satisfied grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. And then ignored Logan the rest of the day. Just because. Of course we made up the next day, but I was annoyed with him for doing it.

Logan chuckled, pulling me back from the memory. “I was stupid teenage boy back then, you can’t hold that against me. When my buddy had an opportunity to get some, I wasn’t gonna stand in his way!” He stated. I rolled my eyes.

“You boys can be real pigs sometimes, you know it?” I said. We finally made it to the trail walking in the woods. The sun peeking down through the trees. It was so pretty but perfectly secluded when you needed it to be.

“I know, but I’ve never been anything short of a gentleman with you Darlin.” He argued.

“Oh so you throwing me in the lake the other day was an act of chivalry?” I questioned.

“You looked hot, thought you might wanna cool off.” He smirked.

“I think you were just being a dick.” I retorted.

“Mmm” He hummed still smirking and grabbed my hand leading me off the trail. “You're a lot feistier than I remember,” he challenged. He stopped and slowly walked me backwards until my back was pressed against the nearest tree. I bit my lip softly trying to keep my composure. I wasn’t going to let him win so easily.

“Yeah, What's so wrong with that?” I raised an eyebrow. He shook his head staring down at me, his eyes flickering to my lips before meeting mine again.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with it baby, just making it even harder for me to keep my hands off you.” I let out a shaky breath. Okay so maybe I would fold that easy. Shit that was smoothe. “The way you kissed me last night Darlin’” He paused, eyeing me hungrily. “I’m not so convinced you want me to.” He drawled. My breath hitched. I felt jittery all over. He had one hand next to my head leaning against the tree pinning me in place without even touching me. I swallowed hard.

“We should get back, the campers might…need us.” I said nervously. It was a lame excuse. Especially because I’d just convinced myself they’d be fine. But suddenly all the attention he was giving me felt like too much. His eyes softened and his smirk faded into a gentle smile. He brought his hand up caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“They’re big kids honey, they’re okay, tell me what’s really on your mind.” he cooed.

I took in a deep breath taking a small step away from the tree and resting my forehead against his broad chest.

“I’m scared.” I admitted. That’s the one thing I hated most about myself. People told me all the time I was confident and so brave. But I didn’t see how. I was so afraid all the time. So scared of everything. Scared of the dark, scared of falling, of getting hurt, of falling in love with a man just for him to leave. A lot of people have left. I guess that’s life, we grow up and we grow apart. But I don’t want to be left stranded with a broken heart. I’m scared that he’ll get hurt. What if I disappoint him and after all this time I’m not the girl he waited 7 years just to kiss. I don’t want to feel so damn scared. The thing is back then, when I was with Sy, all of that fear went away. And he’s proved all over again that he still knows how to fight my fears with me. But right now being with him is causing them just as much as it is fighting them. I feel like I’m stuck on an upside down roller coaster and there’s no ride operator to stop this thing.

“What for,” he asked, his fingers brushing through my hair, pulling me back from my emotional spiral.

I stood up straight and looked into his eyes. “Because I want to be with you so bad it physically hurts. In two days you’ve managed to make me feel more for you than I did all those years ago. But what happens after this? It’s no different than back then. What happens when summer’s over and we go our separate ways? I can’t do just another summer fling with you Logan. I fully intended to move on this whole time but against my own will I still waited for you! Like somehow I knew we’d come back to each other. But I can’t accept fate if you’re just gonna let me fall again.” I hiccupped through a silent sob.

Sy grabbed my face in both hands staring down at me intently.

“I never knew I hurt you so bad baby,” He said softly, swiping away my tears with his thumb. There he was using that word again. Claiming me as his before I have the chance to run myself.

“Y-you didn’t…it’s just…” I trailed off, my eyes shifting to the ground.

“Lainie Look at me,” hearing him say my name with such intensity broke my heart. I met his eyes again and I could see how much it had hurt him to know that I had been so sad all this time. “There isn’t a demon in hell that could keep me away from you. I’m not leavin’ you. I don’t know what I'm gonna be doin’ at the end of this summer, but I do know wherever I go it won’t be far from you. I’m not asking you to give yourself to me Darlin’ not if you ain’t ready. But just let me show you I never stopped wanting you.” His eyes were pleading and I would do anything I could to heal the hurt in his eyes right now. I nodded. Still holding my face he leaned down and crushed his lips to mine. I let out an involuntary whimper as I clutched his t-shirt pulling him closer.

The force of his kiss pushed me back against the tree. I felt his tongue push against my bottom lip and let him in lazily swiping my tongue against his. The taste so undeniably Sy. He let go of my face and held my waist against the tree and then pulled my bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into my mouth as I ran my hands down his chest. And under his shirt desperate to feel his skin. I loved the way the soft hairs of his stomach and his chest felt under my fingertips. He pulled back from my lips and started trailing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. I moaned softly as I felt his teeth graze my neck soothing it with his tongue. If it weren’t for Sy holding me up I’d have melted into the ground by now. I needed to feel his lips on mine again. I took his face in my hands pulling him back to me. Meeting him in another heated kiss. I whined when he abruptly pulled away pouting softly. He chuckled but put a finger to his lips keeping me quiet.

In the distance down the trail I could faintly hear voices.

“Easy Darlin,” He smiled. “Sounds like one of our kiddos,” He spoke in a soft whisper. I strained to listen and he was right. It was very obviously Nicole… and

“Man I hope they aren’t far,” Ethan’s voice said from a few feet down the trail.

I looked up at Sy and he nodded grabbing my hand leading me back onto the trail.. We both came to the same conclusion, they were looking or us. And it sounded like they need help.

“Hey you two,” Sy said softly as we met up with them around a bend in the trees. Nicole’s eye’s went wide and she let out and exasperated breath.

“Ryleigh’s hurt!” she blurted out without explanation.

“What happened?” I asked them quickly.

“She and beckett were playing football and he was like teaching her how to throw and stuff and she tripped running to catch the ball.” Ethan answered.

“I think her ankle’s broken it’s like really bad!” Nicole added panicked. Sy took the lead running back on the trail having Ethan lead him back to Ryleigh and the others and Nicole and I jogged behind. She started to tear up a bit. “I’m sorry Lainie,” she sniffled. “I swear we were being good while you guys were gone we all wanted to give you two time together and.. We messed up,” I stopped her there. I laid my hand on her shoulder giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Nicole it’s okay, This is what we’re here for, you did the right thing coming to get us sweetheart.” she assured her.

“Is Ryleigh gonna be okay?” She asked. I nodded and gave her a gentle smile.

“We’ll make sure of it! Come on!” Nicole and I joined the others and Sy was already kneeling next to Ryleigh’s assessing the injury. Becca was there too, She must’ve been close by when it happened. I could see the tears streaming down Ryleigh’s face. The poor girl was in a lot of pain.

“It’s not your fault man,” I heard Logan say, Beckett was sitting in the grass next to her his hand on her shoulder the other nervously raking through his hair. Becca looked up at me when I approached.

“Do you think you two can get her too the nurse? I’ll stay here with your campers, and check in with everyone.” We both nodded.

“Can I come with?” Beckett asked. “I feel so bad,” He admitted. We looked to rebecca and she gave us a nod.

“It’s not your fault Beck” Ryleigh sniffled.Sy stood assessing the situation for a moment.

“Can you stand at all Darlin?” He asked her. She tried but immediately let out a whimper holding in her cry of pain.

“It’s okay hun,” I told her

“I’m gonna carry you, is that okay?” Logan asked. She nodded and he scooped her up off the ground and the three of us quickly started to walk to the nurses station. It was likely she would have to go to the hospital but we’d have to let the nurse asses it first.

“It’s nice of you to come keep her company.” I said giving Beckett a reassuring smile. He looked at me nervously and nodded. “Beckett,” I said softly. “It was an accident, you play football right, you see this stuff happen on the field all the time. She’s gonna be alright. She might hurt for a little bit but she’ll heal!” I said. He smiled a little and nodded.

“Thanks Lainie.”

At the nurses station they told us exactly what we had expected. They didn’t have an xray machine or anything so best they could tell was it was severely sprained and she’d need to go to the hospital to get it x-rayed to see if anything was broken. We called it in over our radio to Becca. She had to call Ryleigh’s parents to let them know and then she’d be there to wait for the ambulance to come take her. We checked with her to make sure if it was alright that we left her and Beckett alone to wait. She agreed that it’d be fine. Once we assured them again just to sit tight and everything would be okay we headed back to the rest of our campers.

“You okay?” Sy asked as we walked back. I let out a shaky breath.

“A little shaken up but I’ll be alright. You were great back there! I Couldn’t have done it without you,” I smiled. He put his hand on my my shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze and kissed my forehead.

“You did just fine darlin.” he smiled.

When we got back to the kids I noticed all the other family groups gathering on the field. The scavenger hunt I’d almost forgotten. We called all our kids together and had a group meeting.

“Okay, I know today has been kind of hectic,” I started. “But we’re gonna keep moving forward. And have a fun day!”

“Boys,” Sy said. “Todays all about competition and we’re gonna take the girls down!”

“Ladies, Sy’s an idiot and has no idea what he’s talking about! We’ve got this!”

It was time after our crazy chaotic stressful moring it was finally time for the fun to begin.

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Please Stay

TASM! Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary- After being with Peter for a year, you saw that he started to distance himself away from you and treated you horribly for 3 months straight. After a messy breakup, Peter tries to explain his actions and stops you from leaving him and New York behind. Will he make you stay?

Warnings- angst, a brief description of smut in the end.

Age rating- 16+?

Word count- 3.1k

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y/n and Peter Parker were strangers then they became friends and then lovers. But lately y/n wished to be strangers again. The two met when y/n came to New York to study, far away from home she was new to the energetic New York which seemed to cause trouble.

It wasn't until she tripped and spilled her coffee on a very handsome stranger who seemed to be in a hurry. He apologized and quickly ran telling her that he had classes and to tie her shoelaces properly next time.

When y/n looked down after the stranger had disappeared she noticed she tripped because of the open shoelaces. In embarrassment, she hoped to find the handsome stranger again to thank him and apologize for the shirt she ruined.

Her prayers were heard when the dog she was walking decided to jump on the stranger and play with him. You apologized for the dog's behavior but the stranger only chuckled introducing himself.

"It's okay clumsy, I am Peter." you had laughed loudly at the nickname. "Nice to meet you, coffee guy, I am y/n." the two of you have been inseparable since then. He gave you a reason to stay in New York.

After knowing you for a year he finally made a move asking you on a date. The two of you have since then gone to multiple. The first year of your relationship was full of adventures until for the last three months it wasn't.

Peter had distanced himself from you, always making some or the other excuse when asked to hang out or for a date. He didn't call anymore nor did he text. He had bailed on your date for the past three months.

And whenever you would see him unexpectedly he would avert his gaze away from you and didn't even hold your hand. Peter was all about touch, it was his love language. Him not even holding your hand was the end of it all.

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You had a feeling that he had fallen out of love. You knew he had found someone else to love or he got back to Gwen. All your insecurities started to run through your mind but you tried to shut them off by closing your eyes and going back to sleep.

Not being able to sleep you sighed and walked towards your kitchen to get yourself some water. It was eleven pm pretty early for you to go to bed since you always had some assignments or a date with your boyfriend.

But it was summer! you don't start my class till September and it's just the 8th of June today. You take your phone and open Peter's contact which had a photo of him when he had shaved his hair and decided to wear a cap 24/7 even in bed.

Smiling at the picture you debated whether to call him or not. Your heart won and you called him hoping that he would pick up. The ring ended and you stared at the unanswered phone.

"I am so fucking delusional I shouldn't have stayed for him." You scoff "He doesn't even care for me. This was a big mistake I am going home this Monday and no one can stop me." You mumble standing up and taking your suitcase out of the storage closet.

"It's me and you again buddy." You talk to your suitcase and laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"Why the fuck are sisters always annoyingly right. Should have listened to her and booked the flight." you start to talk to yourself. When you told your sister about Peter she was happy for you but when you told her you would stay with Peter for holidays she visibly cringed.

"Look y/n I love you and I am extremely happy for you that you found yourself a very good boyfriend. But don't you ever give up anything for him, you understand? I just don't want you to regret it." she had told you and know you understood why.

Your suitcase was half filled already. Your head snapped when your phone rang. Seeing Peter's name a strange feeling settled in your stomach. You were extremely happy but also angry.

"Hey baby I am sorry, I was running and my phone was at home," Peter said and he did sound like he was out of breath. You had known Peter for more than two years and one thing you knew about him was that he never went for a run in the night.

"But you never go for a run during the night Peter," you said annoyed at him. You heard him laugh from the other side of the phone, "I just had lots of energy and decided to go for a run you know." he said.

"No, I don't Peter." You snapped at him voice sharp. "And I haven't known anything since the past three months. It feels like I am dating a fucking stranger!" You voiced your concerns.

"You always ignore me this is the first time in months since you willingly called me Peter! You never text me or take me on dates. Meet me tomorrow at Rows cafe at 8 we need to talk. And by the way, I am breaking up with you," you told him not giving him a chance to speak.

Before you hung up you heard a surprised "What?! NO y/n." you breathed in relief it felt good to get the things off your chest. You sniffled pulling your legs closer to yourself as you watched the Brooklyn Bridge from your apartment building.

You put your phone on silent and ignored the 57 missed calls from Peter and 109 messages from him.

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Your suitcase was almost packed. You had two boxes that had Peter's things in them including his sweatshirts, mug, books he had annotated for you, the gifts he gave you, and of course the bracelet with a small star and moon charm he had gifted you for your 1 year anniversary.

You hadn't slept a blink since last night, spending your time packing and looking at your pictures together with sadness and distaste.

You thanked the waiter as she bought you your coffee. Sipping on the drink you felt at peace. It was 8:20 and like always he was late or he bailed.

"You are late. I thought you were going to bail on me like always," you say with such distaste that Peter felt his heart clench in pain. You looked at him after almost a week.

He looked miserable his eyes were red and bloodshot, his hair was a mess and he had a small gash on his cheek. Bruises and cuts would always randomly appear on his body and when you asked him about it he said it was because he boxed sometimes at the gym.

You wore sunglasses to hide your red eyes. But you could see that he looked more miserable than you. "Can I get something for your boyfriend?" the friendly waiter ask.

Both of you stiffen "Oh- uh- I." Peter shuttered while you answered for both of you. "He is not my boyfriend." The waiter blushed in embracement. "Oh, I am sorry I just assumed. What would like sir?"

Peter ordered his usual rose tea and once the waiter was far away from the two of you. You handed Peter the two boxes with their contents. He looked at you tearfully. "No y/n.....what did I do? Please don't do this baby."

You chuckled bitterly at his words. "What did you do?" you repeat enraged. "You did everything wrong that you could do Peter. What is it huh? Did you find someone else or did you go back to Gwen?"

Peter stiffened at Gewn's name and you laughed bitterly. "Should have known. So I was just someone to make her jealous huh? Everything that we went through means nothing to you?" Peter sat quietly his gaze on his tea.

Tears start to brim in your eyes at his silence. "You know what Parker? We are done for good. You fucking asshole." you spat taking your iced coffee and throwing it at his face. The people around the cafe gasped at the commotion.

Peter seemed to wake up from his daze. "We are done you fucker." you put 20 dollar bill on the table and left the cafe. "No no no no y/n no! Wait y/n! y/n!" Peter screamed as he ran out of the cafe.

"y/n wait please!" he yelled but you paid no mind and hailed a taxi to your apartment. Peter ruffled his hair as he sprinted towards your apartment which was a good 20 blocks away from this cafe.

Peter reached your apartment door banging on it as pleas left his mouth. "y/n please please please baby let me in please let me explain. y/n baby please." he pleaded.

Inside your home, you were battling within yourself whether you should open the door or not. "I am not cheating on you babe I would never do that. Please let me explain." At this, you opened the door and Peter fell to the ground.

"Come inside." You said and closed the door once he did. "You have 10 minutes to explain yourself, I have to catch a flight in three hours." Peter's eyes widen. "Wai-yo-you are going?" he shutters and you nod.

"You are wasting my time Peter make this quick." you snapped. And for the first time in many weeks, Peter saw you. You looked miserable to him, your whole face was red and all he wanted to do was apologize and hold you tight.

"I only love you y/n and I mean it there is no other person in my life and no there is no Gwen," he said sincerely you only kept quiet and avoided his gaze. "I am so sorry baby I never wanted to make you feel sad. This was not my intention." he pleads.

You scoff in disbelief "Never your intention? Peter, you made me feel like the worst person in the whole world. I thought you were using me and didn't want me anymore for god knows what reason. You never called, never texted, never set up the dates like you used to." you said as tears ran down your face.

"For the past three months you didnt even say I love you to me, and when I came to your college to meet you, you would ignore me make some excuse, and run away. What am I supposed to think after you do all this without any explanation? huh?" you said trying not to yell at him.

Peter winced when he realized how bad it looked. "You weren't even happy to see me! You love holding my hand where did that go?! I thought you were going through something I gave you time space whatever you needed. For three months straight Peter." You wipe your tears away.

"Three months I waited for you now I can't do this anymore. Was I some kind of dumb bet that you placed with your friend? huh? Or you were tired of me already? You don't like my body? Is that the reason?" You asked him lips quering.

Peter shook his head mumbling no. "No no no never y/n never think that again. Ever please, none of those reasons are true clumsy," he whispered. You visibly cringed at the nickname.

"Look I know it looks bad and it is very bad but y/n I am just trying to protect you. I don't want to leave you love, if anything I want to protect you." You look at Peter in disbelief.

"Protect me from what huh? From what Peter?" Peter looked confused he was battling within himself whether he should tell you the truth or not.

The silence made you want to cry a lot more than you are, you opened the door and demanded him to get out. "Get the fuck out of my house Parker." you hissed.

"y/n please no give me a chance to explain myself." You gasped in disbelief. "A chance? Bullshit your reason and explanations are absolutely bullishit Peter please get the fuck out of here before I call security," you told him calmly.

"y/n please close the door and I will tell you everything you want to know okay?" You shook your head and decided to give him a chance closing the door.

You looked at him but he only went inside your bedroom. "I didn't invite you in the bedroom." You told him and sat on your bed with folded arms.

"Okay y/n I know this will come as a big shock but I am Spiderman." You stare at Peter for a good five minutes and burst out laughing.

Peter only blinked sighing he knew this would happen. "Yeah, and I am death Vedar." You joked shaking your head. "Get out you are wasting my time." you snapped.

"No y/n I actually am Spiderman. I save people and shit I am sorry that I didn't tell you this sooner but baby I was trying to protect you and myself," he said. "Something or other could have happened that would reveal my identity and I don't want that."

He was quite correct if you were Spiderman you didn't want to tell every person you dated that you were Spiderman until and unless you truly loved them.

"Baby I couldn't risk your safety. Few people already come to know about you. They tried to make you a hostage so that they could get me. I don't want to hurt you baby." Peter said tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"Why do you think Spiderman was fighting with people in the alleyway next to your apartment for a week straight three months back? I cannot afford to lose you y/n I really cannot." You were trying to absorb the information it was too much for you to digest.

"That is the reason why I distanced myself away from you. If someone saw me with you, I-I can't afford to see you hurt my love. You are my everything I can't do that to you. I know it was stupid of me to do it the wrong way. God, I am so awful to you." Peter said ruffling his hair.

"I can't afford to lose you y/n you mean the world to me baby." He said pleading you to stay. "And you never have to worry about Gwen, okay baby? She died a long time back, she was my first love." Peter said.

"But you y/n, you are my true love and I didn't lie when I said I see us getting married in June and having a baby girl and a baby boy. And I didn't lie when I said that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you y/n." Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at Peter with blurry eyes.

"I love you y/n please please don't leave me." When Peter said that he was sacred because people kept leaving his life you didn't think of leaving as in dying. And now you understand why he did what he did.

"I promise I will make it-" Before he could finish his sentence you kissed him your hands cupping his face as he moved his hands on your waist. You part away from him looking into his eyes.

"I knew all that boxing and gym was bullshit. You would much rather stay in hibernation." You whispered looking into his dreamy chocolate brown eyes and wiping his tears away.

Peter chuckled happily and kissed the palm of your hand lovingly. "Will you stay with me forever y/n y/l/n?" he asked looking at you with hope and admiration.

"Yes, yes I always will stay with you, Peter Parker," you said as Peter rested his forehead on yours.

"I wanted to give you this on your birthday when I tell you the truth but now just seems a much better time," he said and pulled out a necklace from his pocket. It was a beautiful rose gold chain with a spider pendant on it. On the backside, a small P was carved on it.

You gasped at the thoughtful gift as tears shimmer in your eyes again. "This is like a promise necklace, I promise to stay with you forever clumsy," he said and gently clasped it around your neck.

"This is beautiful Peter," you said as a tear slipped from your eye which he brushed away. "I promise to stick with you forever coffee guy," you said lovingly and kissed him again with much passion.

Your hands went around his neck as you played with his hair and slowly melted in his embrace. His lips left your mouth and went down to your jawline kissing each curve with much love.

He slowly went towards your collarbone leaving love bites on our neck. He stopped for a second and admired the necklace which rested on your neck with a smile he kissed the necklace and then your collarbone.

He sucked on your skin harshly making you moan his name and tug on his hair a bit harshly. Peter hummed at the feeling as he slowly trailed the kisses down to your chest until your clothes interrupted him.

"Does this mean that your love bites are bug bites?" you asked moaning when he bit on your cooler bone harshly. Peter chuckled and licked the spot to bring you some relief.

"Sure you can say that clumsy," he mumbled and pulled your shirt over your head. He admired your chest covered in your bra with loving eyes as his hands went back to unclasp your bra.

You gasped slightly when he ripped the bra apart when he couldn't manage to open it. "Hey that was one of my most comfortable ones," you whined at him.

Peter only laughed and went to leave love bites on your chest. "I will buy you more and as many as you want," he said and gently pushed you backward on the bed and began his art of leaving hickeys all over your body.

"You are getting late for your flight," he mumbled as he covered your nipple with his mouth. "The flight can wait." You said and arch your back in pleasure tugging his hair gently.

"I am going to love you the whole day clumsy," Peter said as he came back to kiss you on the lips exploring your mouth with his tongue.

And this was the first time that you wouldn't regret missing your flight.

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A/N

Omg, this was my first time writing this, I do feel like I need holy water now but oh well the damage is done.

I honestly don't know how to write this. Do let me know your opinions!

And send me a request if you have any^^

I am open to writing any characters that I am familiar with :)