#kitchen vocab

[er-cryptid]

Patreon

[daily-spanish-word]

kitchen la cocina

Imagine a small, cozy kitchen.

I’m very clumsy in the kitchen. Soy muy torpe en la cocina.

[abba-enthusiast]

How the fuck is it already 2pm, i literally haven’t gotten anything done 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[florawrites-blog]

Our way of making up

-Making up with enhypen members after a argument

(side note: I learnt new vocabs so needed to use them)

Lee heeseung - 이희승

The night had settled in, casting long shadows across the apartment as you sat on the couch, arms crossed, your mind still replaying the argument you had with Heeseung. It had been hours since he stormed out, needing space, and your pride wouldn’t let you be the one to reach out first. You told yourself he’d come back eventually, that he just needed time to cool off.

But as the minutes turned into hours, a gnawing sense of unease started creeping in. The once comforting silence of the apartment now felt suffocating, and every little sound seemed amplified. The clock ticking on the wall, the creak of the floorboards, and then… something else. A noise outside, subtle at first but growing louder, closer. Your heart rate quickened, your mind racing with thoughts of what could be out there.

What if it’s a thief? you thought, your anxiety spiking. Alone in the apartment, the fear was almost tangible, wrapping around you like a cold blanket. You tried to dismiss it, telling yourself that you were being paranoid, that it was probably just the wind or an animal. But then, the noise came again, clearer this time, and much closer.

Your breath hitched, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Heeseung should have been back by now, you thought, frustration mingling with your fear. If he hadn’t been so stubborn, so determined to stay out for six hours, you wouldn’t be alone right now, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Unable to shake the fear, you grabbed the closest thing to a weapon you could find—a pan from the kitchen. Your hands trembled slightly as you gripped it, trying to muster the courage to face whatever was making those noises. Slowly, you made your way to the door, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowned out almost everything else.

As you reached the door, you heard footsteps just outside. Your grip tightened on the pan, muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself. The door creaked open, and you swung the pan with all your might—only to have it stopped mid-air.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Heeseung’s voice broke through the fog of fear, his reflexes quick enough to catch the pan just before it could connect with his head.

Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes wide with shock and relief as you realized what had almost happened. “Heeseung!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of anger, relief, and guilt.

He slowly lowered the pan, his expression shifting from surprise to a more serious one as he looked at you. “What were you doing?” he asked, his voice still tinged with the lingering tension from your earlier fight.

“What was I doing? What were you doing?” you shot back, your voice trembling as the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. “I thought you were a thief or something! You’ve been gone for hours, Heeseung! I—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, the anger from before dissipating as he realized just how scared you’d been. “I just needed some time to think… but I didn’t mean to be gone this long.”

You looked at him, your emotions all tangled up��frustration at his disappearance, relief that he was back, and a lingering fear from the strange noises outside. “You scared me,” you admitted quietly, your voice losing its earlier edge.

Heeseung’s expression softened as he stepped closer, pulling you into a hug that you hadn’t realized you needed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his arms tightening around you, his voice filled with genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

You sighed into his chest, the fear finally ebbing away as you felt the familiar warmth of his embrace. “Let’s not fight like that again,” you murmured, burying your face in his shirt, the earlier argument now feeling trivial compared to the relief of having him back.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Agreed. I’m not going anywhere, okay? We’ll talk through things next time.”

The tension between you dissolved as you stood there, wrapped up in each other, the pan long forgotten on the floor as the night quietly continued around you.

Park jongseong - 박종성

The argument with Jay had been brief but sharp, a rare occurrence between the two of you. Usually, you could talk things out before they even escalated into something serious, but this time was different. He had to leave for work, cutting the conversation short and leaving you alone with your thoughts. As the door closed behind him, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. The unresolved tension gnawed at you, making you feel queasy, or maybe you really were getting sick.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You didn’t have the energy to do anything, and the apartment seemed too quiet without Jay’s presence. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe the argument had been more significant than either of you realized. As the hours dragged on, you felt worse and worse, both physically and emotionally. By the time night fell, you had retreated to the bedroom, the curtains drawn tightly shut, blocking out any light.

You lay in bed, curled up under the covers as the TV blared at full volume, but you weren’t really watching it. The sound was more of a distraction, something to drown out the silence and the thoughts racing through your mind. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted into a fitful sleep, the weight of the argument still pressing heavily on you.

When Jay finally came home the next morning, the apartment was eerily quiet. He had tried calling you several times throughout the day, but there had been no answer. Worry gnawed at him as he walked through the apartment, noticing that nothing seemed to have changed since he left. Dishes were still in the sink, your belongings were scattered around, and the atmosphere felt strangely stagnant, as if time had stopped.

He pushed open the door to the bedroom, only to be met with darkness. The curtains were still closed, and the room was pitch black, save for the harsh glow of the TV, which was still on the loudest setting. His heart skipped a beat as he saw you lying there, unmoving, buried under the blankets. The sight sent a jolt of fear through him, and he quickly crossed the room, pulling open the curtains to let in some light.

Even with the sunlight streaming in, you didn’t stir. Concern etched deep lines into Jay’s face as he knelt beside the bed, reaching out to touch your forehead. The heat radiating from your skin shocked him; you were burning up, sweat clinging to your skin. He shook you gently, his voice tinged with worry as he called your name.

“Hey, wake up… please wake up,” he pleaded, his mind racing with thoughts of guilt and fear. Had you been like this all day? How had he not noticed something was wrong before he left? The argument replayed in his mind, but it seemed so insignificant now compared to the sight of you lying there, sick and vulnerable.

Slowly, you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. They were swollen, red, evidence of the tears you had shed before finally succumbing to sleep. Seeing Jay’s face hovering over you, filled with concern, brought a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you, and tears welled up in your eyes once more.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jay interrupted gently, brushing your hair back from your forehead. “You’re burning up. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Despite your weakened state, the guilt gnawed at you. You felt responsible for the argument, for not resolving things before he left, for getting sick and making him worry. But as Jay carefully helped you sit up, his touch tender and reassuring, those feelings began to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of relief that he was there, that he still cared.

Jay left the room briefly, returning with a glass of water and some fever medicine. He helped you take the pills, his hand steady as he held the glass to your lips. “Drink slowly,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he watched you, making sure you were okay. He then disappeared into the kitchen, where he began cooking something simple yet comforting.

The smell of food soon filled the apartment, and despite your sickness, it stirred a faint hunger in you. When Jay returned with a bowl of warm soup, the sight of it made your eyes water again. He set the tray down beside you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Eat a little bit, okay? You need your strength,” he urged, his voice gentle.

As you sipped the soup, the warmth spread through your body, a stark contrast to the cold fear that had gripped you earlier. Jay watched you closely, his guilt evident in his eyes. “I’m so sorry for leaving like that,” he said quietly, his hand resting on your knee. “I should have stayed. I should have checked on you.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t… I didn’t handle things well. I should have just talked to you.”

Jay squeezed your knee gently, his eyes softening. “We both could have done things differently. But right now, the important thing is that you get better. We can talk about everything later.”

That was all it took to break down the remaining walls. The tears flowed freely as you leaned into him, the emotions of the past day pouring out. Jay held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively, his own tears threatening to spill over as he whispered reassurances in your ear.

“I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, holding you tightly. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”

In that moment, the argument, the sickness, all of it seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the two of you, together, ready to face whatever came next. And as you clung to him, the warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering cold of the night before, leaving only the comforting presence of the person you loved more than anything in the world.

Sim jaeyun = 심재윤

The day had been tense, to say the least. The argument with Jake had left a heavy cloud hanging over the apartment, and you both retreated to different corners of the house to cool off. It wasn’t like you to argue, but today, emotions had gotten the better of you. Now, as you sat on the edge of the bed, replaying the heated words in your mind, you felt the sting of regret.

Jake, meanwhile, had taken a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away the frustration that had built up between you two. He was still lost in thought as he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water clinging to his chest and dampening his hair. But in his distracted state, he didn’t notice the pile of laundry you’d thrown earlier in a fit of irritation.

One misstep was all it took. His foot caught on a stray shirt, and before he knew it, he was stumbling forward. You barely had time to register what was happening before Jake was tumbling onto the bed, landing right on top of you with a soft thud. The unexpected weight of him knocked the breath out of you, and you instinctively turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

Jake froze, his arms on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn’t crush you completely. His wet hair hung down, dripping cold water onto your cheek. For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air. Jake was the first to break the silence, his voice soft and hesitant.

“Uh… sorry,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed by the situation. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the heat of the shower or the awkwardness of the moment, you weren’t sure. He looked down at you, his usual confident demeanor replaced by the confused, almost puppy-like expression he wore whenever he was at a loss for words.

You could feel his warm breath against your skin, the closeness making your heart race despite the lingering irritation from the argument. But you still refused to look at him, your pride keeping you from acknowledging the accidental intimacy of the moment. Instead, you focused on the sensation of his wet hair dripping onto your face, each drop sending a shiver down your spine.

Jake, sensing your discomfort but not quite knowing how to fix it, shifted slightly, inadvertently causing his towel to slip just a little lower. You felt the movement, and your eyes widened in response, though you still stubbornly refused to meet his gaze.

“I, uh, didn’t mean to—” Jake started, but his words trailed off as he struggled to figure out how to salvage the situation. He looked down at you, seeing the way your lips were pressed into a thin line, your brows furrowed in a mix of annoyance and something else he couldn’t quite place. His heart clenched at the thought that he might have made things worse between you two.

The sight of you beneath him, so close yet so distant, was enough to make him realize just how much he hated the tension that had built up between you. He missed the easygoing laughter, the playful teasing, and most of all, the warmth that you always brought into his life. And now, here he was, in one of the most compromising positions imaginable, and he felt completely helpless.

A drop of water fell from his hair, landing on your lips this time. You finally couldn’t resist anymore and turned your head back to face him, meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d fallen on you. Jake’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the earlier argument seeming almost insignificant in the face of this unexpected closeness.

Neither of you spoke, the silence filled with unspoken apologies and lingering feelings. Jake’s confusion gradually melted into something softer as he looked at you, realizing that maybe this ridiculous situation was exactly what you needed to break the tension. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“I really didn’t mean to fall on you,” he said again, his voice lighter this time, with a hint of amusement creeping in. “I just… well, I’m a klutz, I guess.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that finally broke through your stern expression, the absurdity of the situation starting to get to you. The sight of Jake, usually so put-together, looking down at you with his wet hair and sheepish grin was enough to chip away at your lingering annoyance.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, your voice softer now. “Just… watch where you’re going next time.”

Jake let out a small laugh, the tension between you slowly dissolving as you both began to relax. “Yeah, I’ll try,” he said, his voice warm. He carefully shifted his weight, making sure his towel stayed in place, and rolled off of you, sitting up beside you on the bed.

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, the remnants of the argument lingering in the background but no longer the focal point. Jake reached out, his hand brushing against yours as if testing the waters. When you didn’t pull away, he intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. “I didn’t want to leave things like that between us.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. “I’m sorry too,” you replied, squeezing his hand back. “Let’s not fight like that again, okay?”

Jake nodded, his eyes softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Deal,” he whispered, pulling you into a warm embrace. The wetness of his hair was still a little annoying, but you didn’t mind so much now, especially as he held you close, making everything else seem so small in comparison.

In that moment, with Jake’s arms wrapped around you and the argument behind you, you felt the tension completely fade away, replaced by the familiar comfort of being with the person you loved.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

The argument with Sunghoon earlier had been a rare occurrence. You were both introverts, and conflicts were usually avoided rather than confronted head-on. This time, though, something had snapped, and the two of you had exchanged a few terse words before he went completely silent. The lack of communication only made things more awkward, neither of you knowing how to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between you.

Throughout the day, you both tried to go about your usual routines, but the tension was palpable. Sunghoon had eventually left the house without a word, and you didn’t have the energy to ask where he was going. Instead, you focused on trying to reclaim your cool, but the unresolved argument kept nagging at you, making it impossible to fully relax.

By the time night fell, you were emotionally drained. Rather than face the cold emptiness of your shared bed, you decided to crash on the couch for the night. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but it felt easier than being alone in the room where the argument had started. You curled up in a crooked position, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but exhaustion eventually pulled you into a restless sleep.

When Sunghoon returned home late that night, the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. He walked through the living room, intending to head straight to bed, but stopped in his tracks when he saw you on the couch. You looked so small and peaceful, even in the uncomfortable position you had curled yourself into. His heart clenched at the sight, a mix of guilt and longing washing over him.

He couldn’t stand to see you like that. The argument had already made him feel like he’d failed you, and now, seeing you sleeping on the couch because of it, he felt even worse. Silently, he knelt beside you, carefully adjusting your posture to make you more comfortable. As he did, you instinctively clung to him, your arms wrapping around his waist, seeking warmth and comfort even in your sleep.

Sunghoon froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The simple act of you holding onto him, even unconsciously, drove him crazy. He needed you—more than he could ever put into words. He craved your presence, your touch, your voice, and the thought of being apart from you, even emotionally, was unbearable.

Without a second thought, he slipped his arms under you, lifting you slightly so that your head rested against his neck, your cheek pressed against his Adam’s apple. You sighed softly in your sleep, your body relaxing into him, and he felt a surge of affection so strong it almost hurt. He stayed there, holding you close, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the day caught up with him, and he felt his eyes growing heavy. He didn’t want to move—didn’t want to risk waking you or breaking the fragile peace that had settled over the room. So, he let himself sink into the couch beside you, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. Sleep claimed him before he could even think about it, pulling him into a deep, dreamless slumber.

When you woke up the next morning, it took you a moment to register where you were. The couch was even more uncomfortable than you remembered, and there was a weight pressing down on you that made it hard to move. It took another moment to realize that Sunghoon was there, his body draped over yours, his head nestled against your chest. He was still in his outwear, his soft snores escaping from his slightly parted lips.

The sight of him like that—so vulnerable and peaceful—melted away the lingering anger from the previous day. Despite everything, he looked so much like a child in that moment, his hand twitching slightly as he slept, and you couldn’t help but smile. You reached up, gently brushing his hair out of his face, and pulled him closer, his cheek resting against your chest.

Sunghoon stirred slightly, nuzzling into you, but he didn’t wake. His presence, his warmth, made it impossible to stay mad at him. Whatever tension had been between you the day before seemed so insignificant now, compared to the simple fact that you were here, together, holding each other close.

As you lay there, watching him sleep, you realized that nothing mattered more than this—than being with him, even when things weren’t perfect. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, letting the last of your anger fade away. Sunghoon was your man-baby, after all, and as he lay there, snuggled up against you, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You and Sunoo had a silly argument earlier in the day, something trivial that spiraled into a playful spat. The kind of argument where neither of you could stay mad for long, but still, it left a bit of tension in the air. Both of you had your pride, and neither wanted to be the first to break the silence.

Hours passed, and you busied yourself with other things, trying to shake off the lingering awkwardness. Then, as the evening began to settle in, you heard a soft knock on your door. You opened it to find Sunoo standing there, looking at the ground with his usual mischievous yet adorable expression. His eyes, usually so bright, were now big and doe-like, his lips pressed into a small pout.

In his hands, he held a large bucket of mint chocolate ice cream—your favorite. The sight of him standing there, looking like an upset sly fox, immediately melted your heart. Without thinking twice, you ran to him with open arms, pulling him into a tight hug. Sunoo let out a little laugh as he wrapped his arms around you, the tension between you evaporating in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice soft as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m sorry too,” you replied with a smile, “and you didn’t have to bring me this, but I’m glad you did.”

Sunoo grinned, his eyes lighting up again as he handed you the ice cream. “Well, I knew this would make everything better.”

You both headed to the kitchen, grabbing spoons as you sat on the floor, the bucket of ice cream between you. The argument was long forgotten as you both dug in, laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing had been. Sunoo, ever the entertainer, started making funny faces and telling stories, making you laugh so hard that you nearly choked on your ice cream.

Before you knew it, the ice cream was almost gone, and you were both lying on the kitchen floor, your stomachs full and your hearts light. Sunoo turned his head to look at you, a soft smile on his lips as he reached over to squeeze your hand. “You know, even when we argue, I can’t imagine not having you around,” he said, his voice sincere.

You squeezed his hand back, your heart fluttering at his words. “I feel the same way, Sunoo. I’m glad we have each other.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening there, on the kitchen floor, talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company. The earlier argument seemed so silly now, just another small bump in the road that you both knew would always lead back to moments like this—filled with love, laughter, and of course, a lot of mint chocolate ice cream.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

After a heated argument, you slumped on the couch, frustrated and hurt. Jungwon, equally upset, grabbed his jacket and made his way to the door. You expected him to storm out, but instead, he paused and looked back at you, confusion flickering in his eyes. He seemed to hesitate before walking back over to you, his expression softening slightly.

Without a word, he reached down and pulled you off the couch, gently but firmly. Your confusion grew as he knelt to slip your shoes onto your feet. “Jungwon, where are we going?” you asked, but he didn’t answer. He just took your wrist in his hand and led you out of the house, still in your pajamas.

He walked with purpose, and it wasn’t until you reached a familiar spot that you realized where he had taken you. It was the place where he had first confessed his love to you. The memories of that day flooded back, and you felt a mix of emotions—confusion, love, and the remnants of your earlier argument.

Jungwon finally stopped and turned to face you, his eyes serious but filled with the deep affection you had always known. “Every time we argue, I want you to remember this place,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “This place is special because it’s where I first told you how much you mean to me. It won’t have the same spark if we’re not together anymore.”

His words struck a chord in you, and you realized that despite the argument, he was trying to remind you of what truly mattered. The tension between you slowly dissolved as the significance of the moment washed over you. Jungwon’s expression softened further as he gently pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

“I don’t want us to forget this,” he murmured against your hair. “No matter what happens, I don’t want to lose this.” You hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth of his love and the importance of the place you both stood in. The argument seemed trivial now, overshadowed by the depth of your connection.

As you stood there together, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, the love you shared would always bring you back to this place, both physically and emotionally.

Ni- ki -남편

You and Ni-ki had argued earlier in the day, and while the fight wasn't serious, both of you were too stubborn to back down. Instead of talking it out, you decided to ignore him completely, which he took as a challenge. He ignored you right back, and now, both of you were locked in a silent treatment battle.

As the night wore on, you decided to take things a step further by going to bed without saying goodnight to him. Instead, you kissed your Puma plushie, whispering a soft "Goodnight" to it as you pulled the covers over yourself. Ni-ki saw this from the corner of his eye and tried to act nonchalant, wanting to seem mature and unaffected. But as the minutes passed, the bruising of his pride started to gnaw at him.

Unable to take it any longer, he stormed into the room, the tension in his movements betraying the calm façade he was trying to maintain. Without saying a word, he crawled onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around your figure from behind. His grip was tight, desperate, as if he was trying to silently convey what he couldn't say out loud.

You could feel his warm breath against your neck, and the tension slowly melted away. Despite the stubbornness that had driven you both earlier, you couldn't resist any longer. You turned around to face him, his arms still wrapped around you, and sighed softly.

"Who's my big baby?" you teased, your voice gentle as you cupped his cheeks.

He looked at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and longing, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into your touch, allowing you to smother his cheeks with kisses. As much as he pretended to hate it, you could see the way his eyes softened, the way he let down his guard just for you.

Maybe the argument had been silly, but it had led to this moment, a reminder of how much he loved being babied by you, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

[randomcreator-09]

It's Cuffing Season (Jonathan Crane x Barista!Reader)

(Gif ain't mine > @breakfastonuranus)

✨NSFW [Stockholm Syndrome (Pretty self-explanatory), Abduction, Chocking, Bondage (cuffing), Oral (M!Rec), DubCon (cnc maybe?), PnV (Wrap it before you Tap it), Breeding kink, Candle Play, Overstimulation, and some other things that I may have forgotten], He fell in love with you but you didn't love him (as much) back so he had to do what any villain would do ^^, Crane's top but a softy his little princess, Crane just loves us~, Yes a lil Fluff and a bit of angst :3, also maybe mention of death (Parents)✨

🐧I'm learning my vocabs on NSFW content XD look how I'm adding up every smut warnings I know XD and it's actually not there XD. Please tell me if those are actually in the story damn :"D. Anyways this fic is for that request made, I hope this satisfies your need :3 cuz it did mine XD Although the phasing might be fast somehow... I tried putting all my ideas in one place heh, I hope I wrote it well :"D also the song comes in my mind as I wrote this is the one above... It's cuffing season~🐧

5K Words (I tried shortening it really... this is the best I could do ack)

Now... enjoy you mentally ill people (like me XD)

KINDLY REBLOG TO REACH MORE PEEPS ^^ (also heart it if you love it ^^ tnx)

-----

"Jonathan Crane!" you screamed to the top of your lungs as you read the order name on the cup. Looking around to see if anyone would answer to that name, and there he came.

A man in his well-tailored black suit, accompanied by his brown vest and black tie. A divine for any lady to look at, but for you it was the last thing you found interesting about. You didn't have time to swoon over men right now. Tuition at your college was more than the budget your parents left you before passing and you had to work your ass off to get through. Plus this business was not running well (your parent's business) so you had to do what had to be done, work to the bones.

"Thanks, Miss?" he muttered as he grabbed his drink from the counter and looked you straight in the eye. He had ocean blue eyes that were accessorized with his rectangle cut glasses which made him look more heavenly. His lips pursed and cheeks well contoured, anyone could really just fall in love with this man with one look, you thought, but not you.

You were making the next order as you spoke, "Y/N" you said without thinking of anything, flashing him a quick smile before returning to getting busy.

He smiled back, but you didn't see that as you busied yourself. He nodded before leaving the store. It was sunny that day, a busy day in Gotham City. People out and about, havoc on the neighboring store and policemen drinking their coffee in your store, this was Gotham City, bow.

-----(Jonathan Crane POV)

As Jonathan walked through the streets of Gotham City, he smirked. 'Y/N's hands were on this cup' he thought smiling to himself, as he sipped through the lid. It has been long since he was obsessed with something, not to mention someone other than Batman.

He first saw you on the day havoc happened at your store, a burglary. He was in line to order his usual coffee, clearly pissed at how the line was moving slowly when three masked men came in pointing guns at your employee. It was his first time seeing you then, the owner of the café.

You came out with a nonchalant look as you came from the back kitchen and pointed a loaded shotgun at the masked men. "Out" was the only thing you said as the masked men went running (unfortunately their guns were empty and were just actually toys). He was amused how you knew their guns were empty, even then, you exuded confidence in what you did that day, something Crane found fascinating.

From then on he went to the café from day to day (if he had the time even hour by hour). When you weren't there he would just walk away with nothing in hand, but when you were, he'd order everything on the menu to keep you standing there picking his order from the glassed window, to see your cleavage creeping out your tight V-neck shirt, as his pants would feel tight with his bulge poking it. He really should do something about his obsession with you he thought.

And think he did. He has planned to abduct you and manage your dead parent's business while you were gone, so you'd call him a 'good boy' after manipulating your mind to love him. He planned on paying for your tuition after it too! He has spoken to your school's board to give you a scholarship already (to which you declined because the head of your college was known to give scholarships to people he'd like to fuck). He had a room for you in his apartment already, complete with all the clothes you have in your own small apartment (with extra touches of clothes he likes to see you in... such as expensive lingerie and such).

'Just you wait my love' he thought as he kept the empty cup to his stash of cups with your handwriting on his office desk drawer. 'you will be mine soon', as he closes the drawer shut with a bright smile.

-----(Your POV)

You breath was a mess, your memory a foggy one, as your vision went on and off.

You only remembered the dark night enveloping the streets. As you closed the shop early today (because one of your employees had midterm examinations and you had too), you were out at the back of the shop throwing the heavy bag of trash to the bin when your sight turned dark.

In panic, you tried to fight the four arms that kept you from removing the bag over your head to no avail. Screaming was useless in Gotham, so you didn't try to do so. They guided you up in a spaced van and tied your hand back, they were being rather careful with you, you thought. Like a porcelain from china being transported to the England museum.

Before you know it you were dead asleep, as you inhaled funny smelling air (sleeping gas you presumed).

Minutes passed by as your vision went on again. Seeing that handsome blue-eyed man smiling at the sight of you, and your out again.

-----(Jonathan Crane's POV)

'She's here!' Jonathan's mind was in haywire. He was excited as he saw you being ushered in his apartment by two of his men. However his smile faltered as he sees your wrist red from the rope tied around it.

"Fuck! I told you to be careful with her! You fucking dimwits!" he screamed as he trashed around his living room, throwing anything he saw to his men. "Sorry, Sir Crane, she was a feisty one you see-" he shot the man, he had no time for explanations. "Get out of my sight" he glared at the other who ran out.

Jonathan kneeled down to untie you and remove the black bag over your head. Oh, how majestic you looked sleeping, he could stare at you forever, even maybe when the two of you are old, he smiled at that.

"Welcome Home, Y/N" as he kissed your forehead before carrying you princess-style to your new room.

-----(Your POV)

As you blinked your eyes, adjusting to the light of the room. You finally see the room you were in, it was not your room. Panic consumes you as you realize there were shackles on your wrist, chained to the bed.

You couldn't possibly scream now, since you didn't scream earlier where it could have been evident. You just observed the room, looking for something to get yourself free. The room was in your favourite colour, shockingly it made you more at ease than panic. Some of your missing favorite clothes were on the open closet as well, with boxes of maybe new clothes. Pair of shoes and sandals that screamed 'expensive', you thought of the possibility that maybe a girl abducted you, but some of them were visibly your size.

Before you could find a way to escape the door creeks open. You close your eyes to pretend to be sleeping, but the person to open it doesn't seem to buy it.

"Oh Darling, I mean no harm," his deep voice echoes the room. You closely open your eyes to see the same man that goes to your cafe shop and only ever smiles at you.

"You!" exclaiming as you squirm through the chain to fight him. He rushes to you as he places a tray of food on the floor. "Darling, Darling Angel calm down my Love. I am here to protect you from this dangerous world, I am your only hope in this dark world. By the time everything is in havoc, you are safe here." as he tries to sooth you, patting your head as he sat beside your bedside.

"Fuck You, Jonathan!" you hiss at him, remembering his name as he was always in your cafe, in which he chuckles. "I believe that's not how you thank your saviour love," his voice in a darker tone than earlier as he stands up and picks up the tray of food, placing it on your lap. "Now, I will remove the cuffs on your wrist and you eat peacefully without fighting your savior or..." he pauses as his fingers tickle your wrist and moving slowly to grip on your neck ever so softly "... We do it the hard way and I might punish you, which, believe me, you might even enjoy, Y/N" as he smirks at you.

It took all in you to not tear up then. You prayed to God that this was just a sick dream and that you fainted from overworking, but it wasn't. As you feel his hands tighten their grip making you look at him, you suddenly drown in his ocean-blue eyes. If you weren't a busy woman and had time to date you'd probably dated him before, but this was sick, something you never thought a man with such a political figure like him would do.

Kicking the tray of food to the floor, you squirmed again, the cuffs tightening with your every move. Swearing to his face that you will never cooperate with him and he can kiss your ass. He laughs at that, he stands up after releasing your neck as you gasp for air. He then cleans up your mess and closes the door with a rather loud bang. As you cried in the room, waiting for the inevitable 'punishment'.

Hours has passed and the room turned dark along with the night creeping in the room. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched as the sound of footsteps filled the room, heavier this time. Jonathan Crane appeared once more, but now the light was dimmer, casting flickering shadows across his face. In his hand, a single candle burned, the flame dancing in the darkness.

"You seem to have a lot of fight in you," he murmured, setting the candle on a nearby table. "But I wonder..." He trailed off, his voice low and taunting as he approached the bed, pulling a small chair closer to where you lay cuffed. "How long will that fire last?"

He dragged the chair, its legs scraping against the floor, and sat down. His eyes gleamed with a sick curiosity, studying your every move, every breath. His fingers hovered over the flame, feeling its heat before he slowly turned his gaze back to you.

"You know, fear has many faces," he whispered. His hand, now inches from your skin, tilted the candle slightly. A bead of hot wax dripped, falling closer... closer...

"Please..." You whispered staring at the falling bead of wax rolling down the candle.

The first drop landed just above your stomach, the sting sharp but fleeting. You flinched, a hiss escaping your lips. Jonathan smirked, leaning forward. "Fear, pain... they blend together. And soon, you'll understand just how much I can make you feel."

The next drop fell, then another, each landing with precision, calculated to push you further without overwhelming you. Every slight movement you made only caused the shackles to tighten, reminding you of your helplessness.

"You will cooperate," he whispered darkly, "whether you like it or not."

The steady drip of hot wax continued, each drop sending a fresh wave of stinging heat across your skin. You couldn’t help it—you began to squirm, the restraints digging deeper into your wrists as you tried to twist away. Your heart raced, fear coursing through every vein.

“P-please,” you gasped, your voice shaking as you felt the heat of the wax inching closer to your chest. “Stop, I—I can’t take it.”

Jonathan’s eyes flickered with amusement, his lips curling into a smile that sent chills down your spine. He tilted the candle just enough to let a few more drops fall, ignoring your pleas. "Begging already?" he teased, the sound of his laughter dark and unsettling.

You squirmed harder, desperate to escape the pain, but there was nowhere to go. The shackles held you in place, trapping you in his game. "Jonathan, please!" you cried out, your voice breaking. "Stop, I’ll do whatever you want, just—please!"

He stood up then, towering over you, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy. "Do you really think begging will change anything?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “This is only the beginning.”

He chuckled, low and menacing, as he straightened, letting another drop fall from the candle with eerie precision. “I want you to remember this moment. Every time you think of resisting me... every time you think you have any control.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as the heat burned into your skin again. His laugh echoed in your ears, cruel and unrelenting, as if your suffering was nothing more than a twisted form of entertainment for him.

"You’ll break," he said, his voice eerily calm. "And when you do... you’ll beg me to continue."

Your body trembled under the growing layer of hardened wax, the pain numbing into a dull throb as you finally broke down, tears slipping down your cheeks. Sobs wracked your chest, your will shattered as you lay helpless beneath him, the hot wax pooling in small rivers over your skin, solidifying into painful reminders of his control.

Jonathan finally paused, watching the tears fall with a look of satisfaction in his cold eyes. He placed the candle back on the table, its flame still flickering faintly. His gaze drifted down your body, where the wax now covered your skin in thick patches. He licked his lips, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension.

Your eyes flickered downwards, catching the unmistakable bulge in his pants. The air shifted, heavier now, as he undid his belt with a slow, deliberate movement, the metal buckle clinking softly in the oppressive quiet.

His voice was low and dangerous as he looked down at you. "You've been such a defiant girl, Y/N," he said, his tone almost casual. "Now… you’re going to make it up to me."

He tugged down his pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood there, commanding and unyielding. "I think you know what comes next," he murmured, stepping closer, your eyes never leaving his as you tried to keep it there. "And listen very carefully—if I feel your teeth, you'll wish I had only used wax." you gritted your teeth as he aligns his length to your lips, making you look at his pink veiny cock.

He leaned in, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force you to meet his gaze. His grip was firm, but the smirk on his face was even crueler. "Now," he ordered, his voice deepening with lust. "Take me. And don't make me regret giving you this chance."

As you slowly opened your mouth to accommodate his grit. He slowly moved in your mouth. Soliciting a quiet moan out his lips as he slowly thrusts in and out your mouth, hands still tangled on your hair. "Good... Good girl," he hissed as his head bobs back from pleasure.

Tears ran down your cheeks as your throat chokes on the tip of his cock. Shackles still on your wrist as he slowly picks up his phase, making you squirm again, moaning at how his restless speed in your mouth made you feel soaking wet down below, bucking your knees together to create friction.

His speed was ethereal now, you hesitated, your throat tightening as you leaned forward, but Jonathan’s grip on your hair tightened, his warning clear in his eyes. You started, gagging slightly as he pushed you to take him deeper, but there was no room for hesitation. The pressure built, and just as you choked, he pulled back slightly, his hand flashing across your face with a sharp slap.

"Don’t stop now," he growled, dragging you back roughly. The force left no room for escape as he pushed you to take him fully, his breath quickening, his control slipping as you obeyed, doing your best to keep up. His pace quickened until the tension broke, and you felt him reach his climax.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Take it! Take it, love!" Jonathan groaned, his body shuddering with release as he rutted into your mouth, the taste of him thick on your tongue. He held you there for a moment longer before finally pulling away, leaving you gasping for air, your throat raw and your body trembling.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, Jonathan's hands moved to the cuffs, undoing them with a gentleness that sharply contrasted the earlier brutality. As the restraints fell away, your sore wrists ached from the pressure, but you barely registered the pain.

“Shhh, it’s alright now,” he murmured softly, easing your arms down to your sides as you panted weakly, exhaustion washing over you. He wiped the sweat and wax from your skin with a damp cloth, moving with surprising care as he cleaned away the hardened remnants from your body. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he wiped the corners of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your lips.

“You did so well,” he whispered, his voice now gentle, devoid of the harsh edge it had held moments before. “You’re perfect.” His words were soft, almost affectionate, as he covered you with a warm blanket, tucking it around your body as if wrapping you in a cocoon of safety. "My fucking perfect angel." as he kissed your forehead.

As your eyes fluttered closed, too tired to fight sleep, Jonathan leaned down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Rest now. You're mine, and I’ll take care of you," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly until you finally drifted off into unconsciousness.

-----(Months after abduction, Batman is dead)

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself as you gazed out the window, your reflection staring back at you. Months ago, you had cried endlessly, resisting every touch and command Jonathan gave. Now, those tears seemed so distant, almost laughable. The ‘punishments’ he promised had turned into something you craved—each session pushing you to new heights of pleasure. And afterward, the aftercare was so tender, so sweet, you had never felt so wanted. So cared for.

He had taken over everything: your safety, your business, and even your education. Your café ran smoothly under his careful management, leaving you to focus on finances from the comfort of his condo. The outside world? It felt foreign now, just a backdrop beyond the glass. Here, with him, was all you needed.

The door clicked open, and you immediately recognized the soft footsteps crossing the threshold. You didn’t turn around, but you could feel his presence before he even touched you. Jonathan was back.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you against him. “How was your day?” he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You leaned back into his chest, feeling the weight of the day fade away as you melted into his embrace.

“Hard,” you groaned, thinking about the lessons. The professors he hired for you weren’t easy, and today had been especially draining. “College was hard... why do they make it so difficult?” (The professors came to the apartment, Jonathan doesn't want his princess to walk or drain herself to go out).

Jonathan chuckled softly, his hands trailing up and down your waist and hips in slow, soothing movements. "Difficult?" he whispered, pulling your head back gently so that your lips were inches from his. "I’ll have to deal with that professor, then... make sure they know better than to push you too hard."

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a kiss, his grip firm as he held you in place. The tension melted from your body as you sank into him, the world outside completely forgotten. The kiss was slow but possessive, his lips claiming yours with an undeniable hunger that left you breathless.

When he finally pulled away, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice was a low, commanding murmur. “Let’s go upstairs.”

You nodded, your body already responding to his words, anticipation building as he guided you up the stairs to the room, knowing exactly what was coming next.

As you reached the top of the stairs, Jonathan didn’t lead you toward his room. Instead, he pulled you toward yours. The familiar space, the one place that was entirely yours within his domain, now felt smaller with him so close. The moment you entered, he pressed you firmly against the wall, his body pinning yours in a way that made your breath hitch.

His lips captured yours again, more intense this time, his hand snaking around your waist as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the controlled desire in the way he held you, as though he was fighting to maintain his composure. When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes darkened as they roamed over you, a quiet hunger simmering beneath the surface.

With deliberate slowness, Jonathan reached for the silky coat draped over your body, sliding it off your shoulders with one fluid motion. The fabric fell to the floor, pooling around your feet, leaving you standing there in the black lingerie you knew he adored. His breath hitched, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in the sight before him.

The lingerie clung to your curves, the sheer black fabric leaving little to the imagination. Intricate lace patterns adorned the cups, framing your chest in a way that was both delicate and provocative. Thin straps crisscrossed over your torso, highlighting your waist, while the sheer fabric cascaded down, barely covering the tops of your thighs. The black lace was cut in such a way that it hinted at more, teasing him, daring him to explore further.

Jonathan’s breathing became shallow, his eyes locked onto you as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. "You really do know how to get under my skin," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he stepped closer, his hands tracing the outline of the lace. “You wore this... just for me?”

You nodded slightly, your skin tingling under his touch. His fingers trailed along the delicate fabric, his restraint faltering as he admired every inch of you. "Good girl," he whispered, the praise low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Jonathan leaned in again, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your heart race. This kiss was different—fiercer, more demanding—as he poured all his desire into it. You melted against him, feeling the weight of his body against yours.

In one swift motion, he removed his vest and necktie, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. The smooth fabric of his shirt clung to his form as he slipped it off, revealing the taut lines of his chest and arms. Your breath caught at the sight, his body a perfect blend of strength and control.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he took your wrists, binding them together behind your back with his necktie. The gesture was possessive, a reminder that you were his, and the thrill of being restrained sent a rush of excitement through you.

With a gentle push, Jonathan guided you back toward the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The moment your back hit the mattress, he hovered above you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, trailing up to your neck, where he nibbled lightly, teasingly, as if savoring every moment.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, each word laced with fervent desire. He continued kissing his way back to your lips, his voice low and filled with promise. “I could breed you right now, make you mine in every way.”

His lips found yours again, deeper and more passionate, as he whispered more pleasurable words that made your skin tingle and your body ache for him. “You were made for this,” he murmured between kisses, his hands exploring the curve of your waist, igniting a fire within you that was impossible to ignore.

As Jonathan continued to kiss you, his hands roaming your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your knees began to buckle, the sensations overwhelming as you squirmed beneath him, searching for more friction, more connection. Each subtle movement sent sparks coursing through your veins, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

Jonathan noticed immediately, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He pulled back slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement and desire. "What do you want, love?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, relishing the power he held over you.

You bit your lip, your breath coming in quick gasps as you looked up at him, eyes filled with need. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with urgency. “I want you... I need you to take me.”

His smirk widened, satisfaction radiating from him at your plea. “Is that what you really want?” he taunted, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. “To feel me inside you?”

“Yes! Please, Jonathan,” you begged, the desperation in your voice making it clear just how much you craved him. You felt vulnerable, yet utterly alive, and the anticipation sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips again, the kiss a mixture of passion and possession. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

With a low, sultry laugh, Jonathan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. You watched, breathless, as he pulled his belt free, the leather falling to the floor with a soft thud. Next, he unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down his hips until they pooled at his ankles, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him as he locked his eyes onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, the air thick with anticipation. “Now, tell me again,” he said, his voice a deep growl, “What do you want?”

Your heart raced, the need for him consuming your thoughts. “I want you, Jonathan,” you replied, your voice a soft plea. “I need you to take me, to claim me as yours.”

"Fuck," he says with a low growl, Jonathan removed his boxers, exposing himself fully as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. As he aligned himself with your entrance, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “You were just made for this, weren’t you, love?”

Without warning, he pushed into you hard, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure as he bottomed out. You felt him stretching you, the sensation igniting a fire within you.

“Jonathan,” you moaned, your body arching to meet him as he began to move, he placed his arms behind your back as he thrusts deliberately and powerful. The world around you faded away, leaving only the rhythm of his body against yours and the electric connection between you.

His thrusts became faster, harder, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel your climax building, as his thumb drew circles on you clit, the tension coiling tighter with each movement. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You feel so good around me.”

As you neared the edge, he leaned down, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans as you spiraled into your first climax. Your body quaked, waves of ecstasy washing over you as he continued to thrust, riding the waves of your pleasure.

“Look at you,” he growled, watching your face with a predatory gaze. “So beautiful when you come apart for me. I want to see you do it again.”

The words sent another shock of pleasure through you, and you felt yourself approaching another orgasm. Jonathan picked up his pace, his hips driving into you relentlessly, urging you closer and closer. “Come for me again,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to feel you clench around me.”

With a final thrust, you tumbled over the edge again, your body quaking as your second climax took you by storm. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and desperation, and Jonathan’s grip on your hips tightened as he surged deeper.

“Fuck, take it!” he groaned, his own climax building as he thrust into you one last time. “Take my fucking seed, princess. Be filled with my seed and carry my child, angel.”

As he released himself deep inside you, you felt the warmth spreading, a final wave of bliss washing over you. Screaming as the world blurred at the edges, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment of connection, pleasure, and possessiveness.

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, Jonathan huffed and puffed, catching his breath. He looked down at you, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “You’re absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice low and warm. “The way that lingerie hugs your body, it was made for me. Your breasts bounce just right for me to enjoy.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your skin as he pressed gentle kisses to your breasts, savoring the way they felt beneath his mouth. Each kiss sent a thrill through you, and your breath hitched, the sensation making your heart race. You loved being worshipped like this, the feeling of his admiration washing over you, igniting a fire of desire deep within.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with reverence. He pulled back slightly to admire the way the lingerie framed your figure before carefully removing himself from you. You felt a rush of emptiness at his absence, but he quickly set to work, cleaning you off with gentle hands, his touch almost reverent.

After making sure you were taken care of, he leaned down again to press a soft kiss to your lips, lingering just a moment longer. “Such a good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, his tone affectionate and possessive. He reached behind you, deftly untying the necktie that had bound your wrists, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

With a smile, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. “How was your day?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It was long,” he replied, nuzzling against your hair. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You both lay back against the bed, the night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. As you nestled into his side, the warmth and safety enveloping you made you forget all about the world outside—and the circumstances that had brought you together.

In that moment, it felt like everything was perfect, just as it should be, and you let the worries of the past fade away into the night, content to simply be with him.

-----

🐧Damn... Rollercoaster it was to write this XD I hope it gave off Stockholm syndrome aha :"D Anyways I loved Jonathan Crane on this fic :"3 his the possesive I need >:D but at the same time its kinda... lovely how he abducted us like we were a stray cat and never letting us go out but also respecting our privacy by having his own room too. Yeah he has his own room but he comes to yours becuase he likes sleeping with you better. Anyways hope you enjoyed it hehe ^^🐧

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[megalony]

Home Invasion

This is an Eddie x Buck x deaf! Reader imagine based on an anon request and I hope you will all like it. I will be doing a follow up part soon too. Feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream

911 Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When Eddie and Evan are at work, someone breaks into their home and (Y/n) ends up being attacked.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When (Y/n) walked through the hallway towards the kitchen, a tender smile tugged at her lips and her footsteps slowed as she walked through the kitchen doorway.

Reaching her hand out, she dragged her fingertips delicately across the whiteboard pinned to the wall next to the door. The large whiteboard had many small, laminated squares of paper blue tacced to the top of the board in two rows. Each square had a diagram on with writing beneath it and there was a plastic pocket taped to the corner of the board with hundreds more squares stuffed inside.

The board was for Chris.

With his cerebal palsy, Chris was finding it hard to learn and perform sign language. He needed more ways to communicate with (Y/n) when his signs were shaky at best and it took him a long time to form one sentence using sign.

So they got a white board with hundreds of diagrams and words such as morning, hello, dinner, out, car and other vocabs so Chris could string a sentence together for (Y/n) to read. They also had a large laminate poster stuck next to the white board to help remind Chris of simple signs he could use.

Both Eddie and Evan had mastered their sign language courses the moment the three of them got into a relationship together.

(Y/n) could speak, but since she couldn't hear her own voice, she never knew if she was pronouncing words properly, if she was being too loud or too quiet or if she was muttering rather than speaking. Talking made her self-conscious and unsettled and she preferred to use sign language. But Chris was slowly coaxing her out of her shell because he was working on his words and pronouncing too so it was like they were learning together.

And if Chris spoke slowly and tried to keep his lips clear and fluent, (Y/n) was learning to read his lips. His cerebal palsy gave Chris a different way of moving his lips and pronouncing so for (Y/n) it was like learning a new language. But starting to understand Chris's speech meant he didn't always have to try and use sign language. As long as she could understand him and he could understand her signs, they would be able to communicate well together.

A twinkling smile lit up (Y/n)'s face when she looked down at the whiteboard and read the two words scribbled along the centre which was definitely Evan's handwriting.

'Love You!'

(Y/n) smiled to herself as she walked over towards the sink and grabbed herself a cup. She flicked the kettle on and leaned her forearms down on the counter, waiting for it to boil.

It always felt strange to be home alone without any of her boys. Both Evan and Eddie were at work and Chris was at school. (Y/n) never knew what to do with herself when the house work had all been done and she had nowhere to be and no work to be catching up on.

Watching movies weren't as fun without the boys fighting over popcorn and throwing it around the room. (Y/n) figured she could do some art while she had the house to herself with the tv on as a background image to keep her mind occupied.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and slowly trailed from the kitchen through to the dining room. Setting her cup down in the middle of the table, (Y/n) moved towards the cupboard at the far end where she and Chris had their craft boxes.

But just as she kneeled down and went to grab her dark blue plastic box, something caught her attention out the corner of her eye.

(Y/n) turned her head to the left and leaned forward, but she wasn't sure what she had seen, or what she thought she had seen for a fleeting moment.

Her brows narrowed but after a few seconds passed, (Y/n) let out the breath she had been keeping in and turned her sights back to the box in front of her. Maybe she had left the tv on in the living room and the changing colours caught her perceptive gaze. Maybe she had left a window open and the breeze was moving the curtains.

Box in hand, she stood up and moved back to the table and started to rummage through for her paints and a fresh canvas. Evan's birthday was coming up and (Y/n) wanted to make something to go along with the adventure course she and Eddie had booked for him to go on.

Terror ransacked (Y/n)'s body when, just as she had a bottle of paint in each hand, she felt something tangle in her hair.

A hand.

Sharp nails scratched into her scalp. Fingers curled tightly into her locks. Knuckles pressed harshly into her scalp and the force sent her head jolting forward. The movement sent a shockwave running down the base of (Y/n)'s spine and something burned at the back of her throat.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes as her breaths started to run away without her.

Somebody was in the house.

Both her guys were at work and Chris was at school. No one else should be home except for (Y/n) and she had locked the door when she came home from taking Chris to school.

Someone had broken into their home. And (Y/n) hadn't heard them.

She wasn't sure whether she screamed or if she only made a whimpering sound but all the air pushed past her lips as her hands dropped the tubes of paint onto the table. She flung her arms out behind her and tried to scratch her assailant's arm and thrust her elbow behind her, aiming for whatever she could reach to unarm and hurt them.

Now (Y/n) was beginning to wish she had taken some kind of self defence class or at least joined Eddie and Evan when they went to the gym.

Her eyes snapped shut in panic and (Y/n) tried in the split second she had to brace herself when the hand tightened in her hair and she felt their arm pin down into her back. Whoever was behind her thrust her forward so hard and fast that her forehead bashed into the table, scattering the paints until they rolled onto the floor and (Y/n) could see stars twinkling behind her eyelids.

A roaring scream left her lips and she could feel her throat and lips vibrating from the action as her knees caved and she let go of the assailant to brace her hands on the table and hold herself up.

Tears burned down her face like acid rain and when she felt like he was going to smash her head into the table again, (Y/n) tried to push all her weight back and thrust her head back. She moved until the back of her head hit his chest and winded him enough for him to let go.

She needed to get her phone. She had to grab her phone and get out the house.

(Y/n) pushed herself up onto shaking legs and tried her best to bolt. Her hands grabbed one of the chairs and propelled herself forward while she tipped the chair behind her to try and trip him up and add some distance between them. She used the wall as leverage to push ahead and stop from falling when her knees started to buckle and her body felt desperate to collapse down to the floor.

Why couldn't she have been out when this happened? Why couldn't she be out for a walk or at the shops or even visiting her boys down at the station? Why did someone have to pick their house to rob and at the exact time that (Y/n) was home by herself?

She wasn't sure whether she said no or whether she just screamed something similar when the same rough hands clamped down on her arms and yanked her backwards.

She writhed from side to side, screaming as loudly as she thought she could just in case anyone walked past the house or the neighbours could hear her. It might make the burglar think she could hear him if she was screaming. (Y/n) had no idea if he would target her more if he found out she couldn't hear and could barely pronounce properly.

Her arms thwarted out but she couldn't block off the man's fist when he punched her in her lower chest, effectively knocking all the wind out of her and sending her down to the floor.

Where was her phone? Where had she left it? Surely it had to be close by now that she was in the living room.

Her heart plummeted down into her stomach when her eyes locked on the man as he reached out and grabbed the lamp from the side table. Was he going to try and hit her with that? With the right amount of force to her head he could kill her.

She rolled onto her stomach, scraped her feet against the floor and tried to push up again. Her body slumped over the arm of the sofa and she managed to curl her fingers around her phone before her eyes bulged in their sockets and her head started to thud.

He wrapped the lamp cord around her neck.

She couldn't breathe. The blow to her stomach had restarted her lungs which were gasping for air but now with a thin but strong white cord around her neck pressing into her trachea, she wasn't able to breathe at all. She scratched her nails into her neck deep enough to draw blood when she tried to pull the cord away from her throat and lean back into the man as much as she could to relieve the pressure.

Tears streamed down her face, her lower lip wobbled and her jaw clicked as she gasped. Every nerve ignited with terror and her head felt like it was swelling up with air and about to burst.

She wanted her boys. What would they do? Who was she kidding, Eddie and Evan were double her size and weight, they would have no problem fighting someone off and pinning down their assailant.

All (Y/n) could do was try and throw her head back enough to catch him off guard and keep pushing him back with her dwindling energy. She couldn't stop fighting, she had to keep moving. It didn't matter how much energy and oxygen she wasted. Moving was a better option than pretending to faint and hoping in vain that he might not choke her to death.

Her minimal force seemed to prove worthy when she knocked her attacker off balance and her fingers wormed in between her neck and the cord to allow her to pull it off her neck.

Sucking in a deep breath clouded (Y/n)'s better judgement and stopped her from bolting forward. One step and she would have been able to reach for her phone. But with her eyes blocked by white spots and her lungs heaving, she stopped moving.

Hands grabbed at her arms and a body pushed against her back, sending her falling forward.

She knew she screamed that time. Her body fell through the air and her arms coiled into her chest, hands smothering her face for protection when she landed on the coffee table. (Y/n) couldn't tell whether he had fallen into her but managed to stay standing or if he simply pushed her with all his might. Either way, (Y/n)'s shuddering body broke clear through the glass coffee table.

Her whole right side burned and bounced back off the metal legs and frame of the table. Glass splintered into her skin and imbedded into every inch of her right arm, her neck, forehead and her exposed leg.

When her head smashed into one of the metal legs, everything turned black.

***

"Eddie, Buck, my office please."

Eddie's head turned to the right and his hand tightened around Evan's shoulder when Bobby's voice hit his ears.

What had they done?

He didn't like the look in Bobby's eyes or the way he didn't wait for them, he simply turned on his heels and steam-marched towards his office, knowing they would follow in his shadow.

They hadn't done anything to warrant a private chat in the Captain's office. They weren't messing about or not doing their share of the chores around the station and they had done everything as normal on shift today. Neither of them were being unprofessional either. It was in their agreement with Bobby that they were still able to work together and be on the same shifts together, as long as they remained professional. Their relationship couldn't interfere with their work and they both made sure it never did.

Unease rattled through Evan as he grabbed his shirt from the bench and hurriedly slipped it over his head, folding his arms through the sleeves while he jogged to keep pace with Eddie and follow Bobby.

"Everything okay Cap?" Evan finished up the buttons on his shirt before he settled his hands on his hips. Neither he nor Eddie went to sit down because Bobby wasn't sat behind his desk. He was stood to the side of his desk, one hip jutted out against the corner with his hands tense and stretching at his sides.

If Bobby wasn't sat down, he wasn't very comfortable and that meant this wasn't a friendly chat.

"I've had Athena on the phone, there's been a situation at your house. You both needed to go home."

The pair shared a panicked, nervous look between them before they looked back at Bobby. What the Hell did that mean? What kind of situation? Did they have a fire, a gas leak? A flood? (Y/n) was supposed to be home today, was she alright?

"Uh, what… what kind of situation?" Evan wasn't sure he really wanted to ask but they couldn't go home until they had all the details.

"You've had a break-in."

"But (Y/n)'s at home. Was she hurt?" All of Eddie's muscles tensed up until they felt like elastic bands that were going to snap. He could feel goosebumps prickling across his skin and all the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood up on end.

"She was attacked, Athena said she won't let the medics near her, you both have to go now."

Before Bobby could usher his hands towards the door, Eddie was out the door and halfway down the corridor. His shoulders squared and rose up, his jaw locked so tightly his teeth were grinding down together and his hands were curled up into fists at his sides, desperate to pummel into anything within range.

Someone had broken into their home and attacked their girlfriend. Whoever it was needed to be found and kept away from Eddie before he killed him. (Y/n) wasn't a threat by any means, she was deaf and that made her vulnerable. Someone had gone and attacked her and neither Eddie or Evan knew how badly she had been hurt. They were lucky she hadn't been taken hostage or rushed down to the emergency care unit.

Evan didn't know what to say when the pair of them stormed out into the parking lot and Eddie jumped in the driver's seat of the jeep. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to drive, but Evan didn't have the heart to tell him to switch. He wasn't so sure he would be much better, when his mind wasn't focused he didn't pay attention when he was driving and he could space out. At least Eddie would remained focused and alert.

Evan clenched his hands together and leaned forward, pressing his knuckles against his lips to try and give him something to focus on but he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Do you think she's okay?"

"Don't." Eddie dug his fingers into the back of his head and scrunched up the short hairs in his fist, tugging until his nails scratched into his scalp. He wasn't having this conversation, not until they saw (Y/n) for themselves and knew exactly what they were walking into.

"She might be-"

"Buck! Look, if they haven't managed to get her to the hospital then she's awake and alert. That's a good thing, focus on that." Suddenly Eddie felt like he had told Chris off rather than having a conversation with his partner and when he glanced over, he saw the stern expression on Evan's face. And the flames burning within his blue eyes.

He reached across after a second thought and curled his hand around Evan's thigh, trying to apologise and give him some comfort at the same time.

Neither of them felt good when they pulled up in the drive. Two police cars and an ambulance were parked out front and the front door was swung wide open.

"Athena!" Evan jumped down from the jeep and bolted across the lawn to reach the woman he classed as a motherly figure. She was stood in the doorway, clearly waiting for their arrival with apprehension in her eyes and her signature sunglasses perched on top of her head.

"What happened?" Eddie pressed a hand to Evan's shoulder and side stepped round him to push his way through the door. He didn't like the look of all these officers floating about his home. There was a gurney laid useless behind the armchair and when he stumbled forward, he noticed the two paramedics knelt down on the floor, getting no where near (Y/n) no matter what they tried to do.

"The perp broke in through the back window, from what I can gather, (Y/n) must have caught him in the act. She put up a good fight. Your neighbour called when she found the front door wide open… (Y/n) won't let any of us near her."

Panic bubbled up in Evan's chest when he took in the state of their home, following Eddie into the living room.

The lamp was broken on the floor next to the sofa, a large dint in the shade and the bulb fractured on the laminate floor. Pictures were knocked onto the floor, pens and paint bottles were scattered in the hallway. And the coffee table was a mess.

Only the dark metallic structure of the coffee table was left standing. The glass counter was blown into millions of tiny shards littered all around the floor. Along with a broken mug, a tub of pens, a magazine and the tv remotes all merged in with the glass. But what caught Evan's eye was the puddle of blood right in the centre of the coffee table. Little crimson raindrops scattered across the glass and led a trail across the floor towards the far window.

"Oh fuck, baby!" Eddie crouched down on the floor, trying to be mindful of the blood splatters and fractured pieces of glass surrounding them.

He held his hands out in front of him and waited until (Y/n) lifted her head so she could see he wasn't some stranger trying to hurt her or move her against her will. He could see the paramedics had given up trying. They were sat in front of the tv with their medic bags at their sides, unable to do anything because they couldn't treat (Y/n) against her will no matter what injuries she had.

Tears stained her face but even more flooded her face when she looked up and realised the two people she had been crying for were finally here in front of her.

When Evan knelt down on her right, (Y/n) dropped her knees down to the floor and let her body fall into him. Her head tucked into his chest, her arms stayed cocooned against her chest and a horrid scream left her lips as she started to hyperventilate.

"Shh, oh sweetheart, shhh." Evan wrapped his left arm around her waist and curled his right arm over her chest with his hand cupping her chin. This thumb smoothed across her jaw and lips and his fingers splayed out on her cheek as he tilted his head down and smothered his lips against the top of her head. He knew she would be able to feel his voice vibrate against her skin when he hushed her. He gently swayed them back and forth, brushing his thumb soothingly against her lip and chin.

Her eyes snapped open and for a second her body pushed back into Evan when a tender hand rested on her knee but she realised it was just Eddie trying to get her attention. He needed her eyes open and focused so they could talk.

Eddie waved his index finger in front of his eye before he pointed at his chest.

Eyes on me.

He curled his fingers into a fist except for his index fingers and held his hands in front of his chest, moving his hands together and back like magnets repelling each other before he pointed at (Y/n) and spoke as he signed. "Are you hurt?"

When she nodded, Eddie's chest tightened and he knelt up straighter while he tried to control his expression and remain calm as if he were on the job. But call outs were never this personal.

"Let me see." He pointed at his chest before he pointed at his eyes and moved his finger from his eye towards (Y/n). He had to see what injuries she had so he could help her. She wasn't going to let anyone else near her and for now, she was wrapped up in Evan's arms which would make her feel safer and calm. And if it was Eddie who was patching her up since he was a medic, she would let him help her.

(Y/n)'s chest shook and hitched with each breath before she uncurled her arms from her chest and held them out towards Eddie like she was waiting for him to slap handcuffs on her. She didn't like the way his shoulders slumped and how he bit his teeth deeply into his lower lip with a grimace.

Before Eddie could reach out for her hands, (Y/n) lifted her shaking hands up to sign.

She pointed her index finger out and waved it up and down before she held both her palms out and moved her hands from her chest out in front of her in a forward motion, then finally pointed her finger at her chest.

He pushed me.

When she started to point and shake her hand, Eddie jumped when he heard Evan growl like an animal. Eddie snapped his head round to see what she was pointing at, thinking for a moment that the assailant was somehow back in the room with them. But then it dawned on him. She was pointing and looking at the coffee table. He had pushed her into the table.

"Check her arm, she's bleeding onto my trousers." Evan's voice was an octave deeper than usual and his breaths were coming out harsh and forced.

He didn't lift his head from (Y/n)'s hair and spoke into the top of her head while he continued to rock back and forth, something Eddie guessed was to calm him down more than (Y/n).

Reaching out, Eddie gently cupped (Y/n)'s wrists and pulled them to rest her hands down on his thighs so he could examine her.

"I'm a medic, I need your equipment. Now." Eddie clicked his fingers behind him towards one of the medics and waited impatiently for them to set the bag down by his leg.

(Y/n) had a deep gash down her arm just below her elbow which stretched down towards her wrist and Eddie could see little pieces of glass imbedded into her skin. He needed to tie a turniquet around her arm to cut off the circulation because Evan was right, the blood was pooling down onto his trousers and had been bleeding out for a while. She might have nicked a big artery or vein in her arm and they couldn't have her bleeding out.

Rummaging through the medic bag, Eddie found a deep blue turniquet band that he laid out on his lap before he looked up at (Y/n). He held his left hand out and made a grabbing fist before he stretched his hands out, stuck his thumb and pinkies out on each hand and shook them side to side.

Hold still.

Eddie slipped the band an inch higher than (Y/n)'s elbow and popped the button into the pin hole as tight as he could until the band bit into her flesh and she winced. It had to be tight to cut off the circulation.

Once that was done, Eddie grabbed a pair of tweezers from the bag and began plucking small shards of glass from around the wound. He was relieved only a few little pieces had imbedded into her arm but he knew a doctor would have to take a closer look so they didn't stitch her up with glass still stuck in the wound.

Evan rolled his lips together and began smoothing his thumb up and down (Y/n)'s jaw when she pushed back into his chest and began to cry harder. Her body shook when Eddie poured saline over the wound and cleansed it with an anticeptic wipe.

"There we go," He mumbled quietly when he packed gauze against the wound and wrapped a roll of bandage around her forearm.

With a deep breath, Evan moved his head down to brush his nose against (Y/n)'s cheek and his eyes followed her right hand when she motioned her finger up and down near her waist. She'd hurt her leg. He moved his hands to cup (Y/n)'s hips and he gently eased her back into his chest while Eddie held the back of her knees and slowly straightened her legs out so he could assess them.

Shuffling forward beside (Y/n)'s legs, Eddie carefully cupped (Y/n)'s face and tilted her head down so he could check the cut on the right side of her temple. It didn't look to have any glass stuck in it and it wasn't deep enough to require stitches. But just as Eddie smile and kissed her cheek, his smile faded and he pressed his fingers beneath (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head back until the back of her head was pressed against Evan's shoulder.

"Did he strange you?" Eddie's voice shook and he was glad (Y/n) couldn't hear the tremor in his tone while he hovered his right hand over his neck.

Pulling back, Evan leaned around to look down at (Y/n)'s neck and tears welled in his eyes when he noticed the thin, discoloured line around her neck. And his eyes followed (Y/n)'s hand as she held it up, pressed her fingertips against her thumb then flicked her fingers out.

Lamp.

He'd strangled her with the lamp wire.

"We're taking you to hospital." Eddie pressed his index and middle finger to his shoulder and swiped his fingertips down his arm in a straight line, then a sideways line across for the hospital symbol.

***

Evan pulled his shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his hair before he turned around to face the bed. A tender smile formed on his lips and he moved to stand near the end of the bed to face (Y/n) who was perched cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

"I have to go to work now, baby." He curled his hands into fists, held his left hand out and moved his right fist in a circular motion above his hand before he brought his fist down to rest on his left wrist. The sign for work.

He watched (Y/n) push up onto her knees and crawl across to the end of the bed where he was standing. His lips curved up when (Y/n) looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the middle of his chest. The sudden affection was more than welcome and Evan buried his face in the top of her head, breathing in her scent as his palms pressed down on her lower back. His elbows bedded into her waist and he moved to press his cheek against her hair.

He could feel the bandage on her arm rubbing against his neck and it made him shiver. Eddie had wrapped a fresh bandage around her arm every day for the past four days since the incident because (Y/n) had started to scratch the stitches absentmindedly when they itched and she was at the point of tearing them out. A bandage was the only way to stop her from making the wound worse.

When (Y/n) pulled back and tilted her head up, Evan moved his hands from her waist to cup her neck, his thumbs brushing across her jaw before he leaned down to steal a kiss.

He sucked her lip between his teeth and gave a sharp tug, relishing in the way her fingers suddenly dug down into his back.

Evan pulled back when (Y/n) scratched her nails into his back and nuzzled her nose against his before she unravelled her arms from his neck. She shuffled back a small pace so she could hold her arms out in front of her and Evan's face softened as he went back to cupping her hips instead. Waiting patiently for her to sign something to him.

Her hands held out in front of her with her index fingers pointed out and she raised her arms up to her chest, and then tapped her chest. Her hands then curled into fists with her thumbs stuck up as she rubbed her clenched fingers together. Then finally tapped the end of her finger into Evan's chest.

Can I come with you.

Evan's brows creased and his smile started to fade. Why did she suddenly want to come down to the station with him? He was going on shift, not going out to see the team for a night out. And Eddie was still on shift, he would be finished in two hours and would be on his way home to her.

"Why?" Pressing his fingertips to his temple, Evan then pulled his hand down and curled his fingers, leaving his thumb and pinky sticking out.

(Y/n) gulped loudly, flitting her eyes around until they settled on staring at Evan's chest as her fingers curled and she rubbed her hand in a circular motion over her chest. 'Please.'

"Why, baby?" When she didn't answer, Evan's jaw tightened and his shoulders hunched. He stuck his thumb and pinky out again with the rest of his fingers curled up and pressed his curled fingers against his chin and then pulled his hand away. "What's wrong?"

Unease rattled through Evan when (Y/n) simply repeated the same thing again, without looking him in the eye. Deep down she had to know Evan wasn't going to say no to her but she also had to know that he needed to know what was wrong. He wasn't going to ignore this or pretend she was coming down to the station for a visit when he could see the panic bubbling up in her eyes.

Curling his thumb into his palm, Evan kept his hand straight with his fingers tense and waved his hand from his chin in an outward motion before he pointed at his chest. "Talk to me."

A trembling set in throughout (Y/n)'s body when Evan's hands went back to holding her hips and he tilted his chin down to look at her properly. He hated the panic in her eyes but not as much as (Y/n) hated what she was about to sign. She didn't want to admit what was rattling around in her head but the more she thought about it, the more her body started to shake and tears started to trace down the bridge of her nose.

Sticking her pinky out, she pressed her hand into her chest, then stuck her index and middle finger into a crooked position before bringing her arms up and crossing her wrists in front of her.

Tremors set in her body by the time she curled her ring finger beneath her middle finger, left her other fingers stretched out and rubbed her ring finger around her chest.

Tears burned in the corner of Evan's eyes when he watched his girl cross her arms over her chest with her hands on her shoulders, then uncrossed them and held her hands up by the sides of her head into clenched fists.

'I don't feel safe.'

(Y/n) let her arms flop across Evan's shoulders and wrap tightly around the back of his neck when he pulled her into his chest. His hand pressed tightly into her lower back and his other hand moved to cup the back of her thigh. In one swift motion, Evan lifted her up from the bed and hoisted her onto his hips. Pinching her thigh until she got the hint and wrapped her legs around his worso with her heels resting comfortably between his hips.

He pressed his lips to the side of her head, sighing against her skin before he peppered hundreds of kisses to her temple when she quivered and started to whimper into his neck.

He should have seen this coming.

He and Eddie had taken the last four days off work to be home with (Y/n), neither of them wanted to leave her when the moment they came home from the hospital, she had a panic attack on the doorstep.

They had spent the last few days calming her down, helping with the panic she felt whenever she caught something out the corner of her eye. They stopped her scratching her arm, held her when she cried and wedged her between them during the night so she wouldn't wake during the night feeling afraid.

But it didn't dawn on Evan that (Y/n) would be this panicked about being alone. Eddie would be home in just over two hours. They both thought that was a small amount of time and (Y/n) might be okay being alone until he came back. Clearly they had been wrong. They should have thought about this more and prepared for this situation happening.

Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s cheek until she got the hint and lifted her head to look up at him.

"I'll keep you safe." He spoke slow enough that (Y/n) was able to read his lips so he didn't have to let go of her. He tightened his hand around her thigh and leaned forward, burying his face into her neck with his lips sucking a mark into her skin.

He would keep her safe. He and Eddie would look after her and make sure nothing bad ever happened to her again. They hadn't been here when she got hurt the first time, but they weren't making that mistake again. And Evan knew they couldn't stay with (Y/n) twenty-four seven no matter how hard they tried, but they would do their best.

For now, Evan would take her with him to work and she could wait at the station until Eddie's shift finished and she could go home with him.

[roostersbby69]

I’ll be here for you

Summary: the one where you and Bradley cross the boundary of being friends.

warnings: teen pregnancy, Bradley’s mom is still alive currently

Pairing: teen Bradley x teen Mitchel!reader

Full masterlist

Currently, you were at the Bradshaws household with a bundle of paper laid out on the kitchen table. Each of you had a coke in front of you as you quizzed Bradley on the vocab words for this week.

“Adjacent.” You flipped the card and looked up to him who was pacing through the kitchen. You were sitting on the table and whenever he paced behind you you make sure to turn the answer away from him, Bradley liked to sneak a glance at the answer sometimes.

“The fuck?” He muttered as he thought for a second, “Uhm, something that is open.”

“Partially open.” You corrected him.

“Same thing.” He rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair in front of you. He grabbed your ankles and set your feet on his thighs and rubbed your calves softly.

“Cognitive.” You flipped another flash card and watched as his face scrunched with confusion.

“I don’t know.”

“Just try, that’s why we’re practicing.” You encouraged him.

He sighed and thought for a second, he admired your face and your smooth legs as his fingers delicately traced patterns on them, “I like you.” He blurted out.

“That’s not what that means.” You muttered as you flipped the card over and read the definition out loud to him. But he wasn’t listening. He was staring at you, admiring your lips, the way his old shirt still looked big on your body.

“No, I like you.” He repeated and watched a you looked up to him with a raised brow.

“I like you too Bradley.” You laughed and grabbed another sheet of paper. He shook his head and placed his hand on yours, stopping you from picking the paper up.

“I like you, Y/n.” He said slowly, emphasizing the word like.

You blinked and stared into his soft brown eyes for a second before comprehending it, “What? Me?”

“Yes, you.” He nodded, Bradley knew this long ago and had tried not to accept it as you were best friends since diapers. And he was pretty scared of your dad.

“But, we’re best friends.” You blinked.

He groaned and shoved his face in his hands and apologized, “Just forget I said that.”

Before you knew it, you grabbed his face and leaned in to place your lips on his.

Holy shit, you were kissing your best friend. The one who you took bubble baths with when you had sleepovers, the one where you shared ice cream cones with at the park, and the one who you had a crush on your entire life.

He stood up and wrapped his hands around your thighs and placed one on your ass to scoot you closer to him until your crotches met. You gasped into his lips and looked into his eyes as he barely pulled away from your lips and whispered, “My room?” And you nodded quickly.

Bradley recalled the “talk” his mom gave him when he turned 16 and how embarrassing it was. He knew his dad would’ve given it to him but he wasn’t here to do so.

“You need to be very careful.” She said and forced him to listen to her.

“Yes, mom.” He groaned and wished he were anywhere but here right now.

“Do you know what a condom is?”

“Yes, mother.” He rolled his eyes and rubbed his face.

“I would wait until later.” She recommended.

“Okay.” He mumbled and cringed.

“I just don’t want you to knock some girl up.”

“Mom!”

-

Four weeks later you were sitting on the toilet seat waiting for three minutes to be up, your legs were bouncing up and down and you were praying that it would come back negative.

All of a sudden, a fist was banging on the locked door. “Y/n? Y/n?” The voice chanted as it continued to beat on the door.

You sighed and got up to unlock the door and perch yourself right back on the seat.

Bradley barged in, chest heaving, and his phone in his hand, “You said code red.”

You nodded and wiped the tears from your face and sniffled.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He softly shut the door behind him and made his way to you, he crouched down and rubbed your knees.

“I think,” you tried to breathe as you tried to talk.

“Hey, hey, breathe.” He moved your hands from your face and replaced them with his, he rubbed your cheeks and wiped the tears away, “Breathe.”

You took a deep breath and collected your thoughts as the timer on your phone went off, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You met his eyes and the look on his face made you sob even more.

“What?” He asked as his face went pale.

You grabbed the test off of the counter and showed it to him, “Shit.” He muttered as he read the lines.

“I thought you were on birth control?” He asked as he took it from your hands and held it up to the light, examining it. He read the lines “Pregnant” over and over again.

“I am.” You cried and pulled your knees to your chest, “Bradley I think the test is pretty damn clear.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the test from his hands.

“I just…” he couldn’t believe it, “Fuck, your dad’s going to kill me.” He rubbed his forehead as he started to sweat.

“Are you serious? That’s what you’re worried about right now?” You looked at him as he paced through your bathroom. When he didn’t reply you sighed, “If you don’t want to be apart of this you don’t have to.” You rubbed your eyes.

He crouched down in front of you and shook his head, “I’m not doing that, this is both of us and I’m not leaving you.”

Bradley watched as your lip quivered, “Hey,” he leaned down and tried to look at your face, “look at me, please.” He watched as you slowly looked into his eyes, “I’ll be here for you, it’ll be okay.”

He pulled you into him and held you to his chest as you let out the rest of the tears as he rubbed your back and cradled your head.

Even though this wasn’t what he had planned, he knew that he didn’t plan on leaving you.

—————————————————————

Part 2.

Authors note: just a little what if story. I love teen Bradley. I might make a pt 2 idk yet.

[study-diaries]

How to avoid distractions while studying.

.

Social Media.

I personally know how hard it is to study when constant social media notifications are popping up so i just turn them off. This is obvious and the easiest way. Keep your phone in another room while you're studying.

Youtube

Here's the thing, YouTube is something we can't avoid, especially when it comes to studying because many times, we want to learn from the videos but end up getting distracted and therefore, i maintain 2 accounts. One, a personal account where I watch all my own channels like vlogs and other content videos and another account only for studying. I don't subscribe to any other channels beside the channels that help me with my studies in this account. I've noticed that I get a lot less distracted because your recommendations would only be study related or the content related!

Write them down

When you're studying and you noticed that you're getting a lot of distractions. Take a paper and write down the distractions with the timings and then continue studying.

Distractions - Time

Phone - 20 min (specify time: 8:20-40)

By this, you can analyse what's distracting you more than the others and you can actually calculate your study hours better and help yourself improve it.

Reduce everything by 5 mins

It's okay to get distracted. Everyone gets distracted and the best way to decrease your distractions is to decrease them by 5 mins for some days and then keep decreasing them gradually. It's the best way to work honestly because it helps you remove the distractions over time as a habit.

Complete your chores before sitting down

You might know that whenever you sit down with a firm motivation to study and then you take your notes, books, materia etc and a voice from the kitchen comes saying"You haven't finished the dishes!" So, now you go to do the dishes and then another chore pops up when you sit to study and another and another. So, here's my advice, either you complete all your chores before you study or you complete them after or you could complete them during breaks. But make sure you're not distracted by them.

Turn daydreaming into a weapon

Personally, this is something i really really struggled with, like whenever I sit down to study, I ended up daydreaming about a certain book or plot. It would definitely not help me study so recently, I started assigning fictional characters to subjects and personally, like, gosh my economics was alittle more interesting when I was "teaching" it to Cardan Greenbriar (tfota). It's kinda childish to have like an imaginary friend or such but it certainly helps with boring subjects. Imagine scenarios or do anything with your imagination as long as you're studying the content. It helps you remember important points even though it may be absurd.

Q and A sessions

From time to time, get in the habit of quizzing yourself, I do it after every topic i complete. I'll ask questions which are not in the book, I'll twist the questions just like in the tests. This means that you have to stay focused if you truly want to answer the questions or even form the questions. You can even do it with a friend/study buddies!

Tennis method

This method is really useful and i kinda made it up. You hold your hands up in the air facing towards each other. Now, after you completed a topic, you "throw" your first point from one hand to another and the other hand should "throw" back the second point and so on until you're completely done with it. If you can't "throw" a point back in less than a minute, you need to revise more. Personally, I love doing this because I'm focused on answering and it's actually kinda fun "throwing" points like balls, even though it may look crazy to any outsiders xD (You can use this for maths for formulae, vocabs etc!)

Hope this helps! :D

[doc-pickles]

it’s enough to make a girl blush | adam larsson x reader x vince dunn

summary: after an accident, your husband helps vince apologize to you properly

warnings: alcohol mention, smut (oral f/m receiving, handjob, f/m, m/m, f/m/m, praise kink, threesome)

a/n: I actually have no answer for this one but i do blame @loulucifer for brainwashing me. so thanks. anyways enjoy!

xoxo

nina

Swedish Vocab:

Älskling - Darling

Raring - Dear

Skynda - Hurry

Adam’s guilty pleasure is that he loves hosting. A bit standoffish and broody, most wouldn’t assume him to be the hosting type but he takes great pleasure in showing off the home you two share and having his close friends within the four walls. 

Tonight was one of those nights where your husband took pride in hosting some of his teammates, cooking them dinner, and showing off the newly remodeled living room. The night had wound down to just a few stragglers sharing drinks in your living room, the room peaceful and enjoyable. 

“Älskling, will you grab some more wine,” Adam whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Promise everyone will leave soon so I can take care of you.”

You respond with a nod and a kiss on Adam’s cheek, his fingers squeezing your ass just enough to tease what he’d do later. He’d slowly been teasing you all night, another thing he loved to do while hosting. 

Quickly, you refill your glass of Merlot before turning to bring the bottle out to the living room but instead run straight into a solid body. Red wine drips down your light blue blouse as you let out a shocked yelp. Thankfully you manage to keep both the bottle and the glass in your hands as the person in front of you mutters apologies. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry,” Vince Dunn, Adam’s linemate, looks at you with absolute horror. He scrambles, grabs the roll of paper towels on the counter, and kneels to wipe up the liquid on the floor. “I wasn’t looking and fuck I’m so sorry.”

“Vince, it’s no big deal,” you place a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at you with wide green eyes. “I’m just going to run upstairs and hop in the shower. Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Älskling? Everything okay?” Adam appears in the doorway to the kitchen and looks between you and Vince who’s still kneeling on the floor. 

“All good. I’m going to wash off the wine,” you slip past Vince and press a kiss to Adam’s cheek before whispering to him with a smile. “Skynda, raring.”

You make your way upstairs and strip before stepping into the warm spray of the shower. The one thing you’d insisted on when you and Adam had looked for a house was a large bathroom with a shower and soaking bathtub. The shower boasted two shower heads, a sleek black tile backdrop, and a huge glass door. As you close the door, the warm spray of the shower washes over you and you gladly sigh in relief as your body relaxes. 

Not even fifteen minutes later the bathroom door creaks open and you smirk to yourself before calling out to your husband, “I’ve been waiting for you, raring. Thinking about this moment all night long.” 

“Älskling, Vince wants to apologize to you.”

You whip around and find Vince standing in front of the shower entrance, looking anywhere but at you. Adam stands behind him, a smirk on his face as his eyes stay locked on the younger man and his flushed cheeks. 

“He’s shaking like a leaf Adam,” you tut as you look over Vince. “It was just an accident, no need to be so harsh.”

“S-sorry about the wine,” Vince looks up from the floor and meets your eyes, not daring to look anywhere else. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“S’okay Vince,” you assure him with a smile. He seems to calm down but as you meet Adam’s fiery gaze over Vince’s shoulder you know that trouble is brewing. “Raring-“

“Vince needs to learn a lesson, älskling,” Adam's voice is commanding as he lays a hand on Vince’s shoulder. “Strip.”

“But I-“

“Strip, Vince,” Adam commands. “So you can properly apologize.”

To his credit, Vince only pauses for a moment before he strips off his dark polo and shoes. His hands shake a little as he unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs. He’s all lean muscle and long limbs, a stark contrast compared to Adam’s thick arms and legs and toned torso. 

“All the way,” Adam mutters once Vince is down to his boxers. “C’mon Vince.”

Finally fully naked, Vince looks younger than he is as he stares at you, uncertainty clouding his features as he meets your eyes through the glass of the shower door. 

“Go on,” Adam pulls the door open and pushes Vince under the warm spray. “Kneel and apologize properly to my wife.”

You take a step towards Vince, your hands gently, pushing his shoulders until he’s on his knees before you. His eyes flick to yours, wide and unsure through the green haze of his irises. 

“You’ve gone down on a woman before, haven’t you Vince?” you ask with a smirk on your face as his cheeks flush. Even with the dark blush marring his cheeks Vince nods and you smile at him, running a hand quickly through his curls. “Good. Then you can make up for ruining my favorite blouse.”

Vince hesitates slightly before one hand curls around your leg to bring your body closer to his. His fingers drift up your thigh and slowly run through your folds, his tongue following their path. You let out a gasp as he slowly drives one finger into your wet folds and his tongue teases your clit.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out as you let one hand drift back to Vince’s now wet curls. “So good… Just like that Vince.”

You watch Adam observe the two of you, his erection straining in his dark slacks. His eyes meet yours just as Vince’s tongue delves into you and elicits a deep moan from you. You maintain eye contact with Adam as Vince continues to fuck you with his tongue, his fingers teasing your clit as he moves.

“Vince. So good baby,” you moan as your eyes flutter shut. “Such a good boy on your knees for me. So good for me, aren’t you?”

Vince nods and sucks your clit into his mouth just as Adam steps under the spray, his hands coming to squeeze your breasts as he pulls you into his chest. 

“He’s so good with his tongue, raring,” you gasp as Vince circles your clit again, your head falling back onto Adam’s shoulder. “So- fuck. So good. Want you to feel him, Adam.” 

Adams' erection presses into your back as he holds you close. In the same moment, Vince plunges two fingers into you and your orgasm claims you, your mouth agape as you tremble with pleasure. Adam holds you up as Vince continues to tongue you through your climax. 

When you come back down from your high Adam is kissing your neck, Vince’s lips pressed to your thigh. Adam is rutting against your ass but you push him off and motion to Vince who’s still kneeling at your feet, “Vince will take care of you, raring.” 

You smile as you run a hand down Vince's cheek, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looks back up to you. His bright eyes are no longer clouded with uncertainty but with lust now, “Won’t you, sweet boy? Take care of Adam like you took care of me? Use your tongue so well for him?”

Vince nods before he looks with uncertainty toward Adam, “I mean… If Adam wants.. Then I-“

Adam cuts Vince off by leaning down to cover his mouth with his own. The kiss doesn’t last long before Adam breaks them apart and nods at you, “You take care of our guest, älslking?”

You simply grin as Vince greedily takes Adam into his mouth, a string of Swedish curses falling from Adam at the motion. You kneel behind Vince, pressing your lips to his neck as you trail your hand down his chest towards his dripping cock. 

“Such a mess for me, baby,” you purr in Vince’s ear, eliciting a moan from him as you ignore his dick and slowly move down to cup his balls. “You want me to touch you while you suck off my husband? Can you taste us both on your tongue?”

“Raring,” Adam warns. “If you talk like that I’m not going to last long.”

You blink innocently up at Adam as you whisper in Vince’s ear, “Such a good boy, using your tongue so well for me, for Adam. I bet you can’t wait to swallow all of his cum huh? You want him so bad, don’t you?”

With a grunt, Adam grabs Vince’s face and holds him still as he comes down his throat. A strangled cry leaves Vince as his own release spills over onto your hands. Taking everything in with wide eyes you keep one hand slowly stroking Vince while the other gently strokes Adam’s thigh. The feeling of the two of them in your hold has your heart beating in double-time.

“Raring,” Adam whispers, a gentle coaxing. “Raring, time to get up. C’mon my love.”

Your eyes open slowly, taking in the surroundings that are definitely not the floor of your shower. When you finally look around you’re met with Adam’s smirk as he looks down at you, one hand stroking through your hair softly.

“Good dream?” Adam asks and your cheeks immediately flush as you hide your face in your pillow. “Sounded good to me.”

“Adam…,” you groan as you peek up at him.

“It’s okay, raring,” Adam soothes as he grins at you. “But maybe Vince can join us soon, if you’re a good girl.”

[writingquestionsanswered]

Do you have any advice for writing description if you don’t really have a “mind’s eye”? I really struggle because I have a really hard time thinking/imagining things visually. (I know visuals aren’t the only type of description you can include when writing, but I’d still like to improve at them.)

Three Quick Tips for Describing Visuals

Your character has just stepped into the throne room of a medieval castle. You have a vague mental image of what this castle and its throne room look like, but you have no idea how to go about describing it. So, what do you do? Here are three quick tips that will help you with your description:

1 - Gather Inspiration Images - Inspiration images are a great way to refine the picture in your mind's eye and keep details straight. Just go to your favorite search engine and plug in your keywords, then scroll through the results to find images that speak to you. Save them in a folder on your device so you can refer to them as needed. You may even want to create a "mood board" collage or a Pinterest board.

Example: "fantasy medieval throne room"

2 - Gather Your Vocab - Once you have your inspiration images in hand, you find it hard to put what you're seeing into words because you're missing the necessary vocabulary to describe what you're seeing. Fortunately, you can search for lists, diagrams, and labeled images that will tell you what things are called. If you need the door into the throne room, try looking up "door styles" or "types of doors." If you need to describe the throne, try looking up "chair styles" or "parts of a chair."

Example: "parts of a castle" & "parts of a throne" 3 - Gather Your Other Atmospheric and Sensory Details - Next, you want to consider the atmospheric and sensory details, then gather your words. What can the character see? (What color are the stone walls? Is the air hazy? Are there flickering candles in wrought iron torchieres?) What can they hear? (Are voices echoing through the cavernous hall? Is there lute music playing?) What can they smell? (Is there wood smoke from the torches on the walls? Is there the smell of roasted meat wafting from the kitchens?) What can they taste? (If they're nervous, do they taste bile in the back of their throat or salt from their sweat?) What can they feel? (Is the throne room warm from all the people? Cold because it's cavernous and stone?)

Example: "shades of the color gray" & "words to describe smells" Have fun with your story!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[latinare]

do you have any advice for improving my Latin vocabulary? my grammar fundamentals are strong but I always seem to be running up against my limited vocab

I struggle with this too actually! I've been slowly working my way through this list of commonly used words. Plus of course just using my Latin a lot, for both reading and translating. Seeing the same word on my list and in my readings and in my dictionary when looking up a synonym helps to cement it in my brain.

A few handy vocab tricks I've discovered over the years:

Say the word out loud while mentally picturing what it represents. Make as clear a mental image as you can. If it's a verb, make the motion of the verb with your body; if it's an item we still have around, touch or look at it; if it's an emotive word, use your voice or face to express it. The idea is to a) associate the Latin word directly with its meaning rather than going through the English translation every time, and b) engage multiple senses in order to form multiple neural connections for the word, rather than just one.

Pin your vocab somewhere you can review it while doing boring manual work, like above the kitchen sink. Then you don't have to carve out special vocab time, you just review whenever you're doing that chore.

Cognates. This involves digging into etymology a bit. See if you can find a word you already know (in any language!) that's related to the one you're trying to remember, like amare, amigo or amiable for amicus.

Best of luck!

[er-cryptid]

[daily-spanish-word]

kitchen la cocina

Imagine a small, cozy kitchen.

I’m very clumsy in the kitchen. Soy muy torpe en la cocina.

[kittythelitter]

Batfam Cooking Boot Camp

Thinking about the Batfam and the concept of geniuses who are capable of hacking and fighting and swinging and general vigilante stuff, many of whom canonically or often in fandom "Can't Cook"

And it makes sense: many of them never had to and many of them never had a chance to learn. And people who are learning to cook make a lot of mess and a lot of mistakes and can waste food and cause danger and damage and there's no way Alfred wants that in His Kitchen unless someone really wants to learn and is going to put the time and effort into it.

But imagine for a moment. Alfred overhearing friends and partners of his charges joking about how they always have to get takeout or come to the manor when it's the bats' turn to cook.

Specifically I'm thinking about Kori asking Dick to take Mar'i to the Manor or invite Jason over with some frequency when she's going to be off world so that she (Mar'i) can have some home cooked food that's not pb&js, cereal, or burnt Mac and cheese.

And Alfred isn't oblivious to conversations happening; he knows that outside of the Manor where food is His Job and only Approved Cooks are allowed in the kitchen, there's conversations about division of chores/home labor and he's heard the term "weaponized incompetence" thrown around and he's like.

Maybe telling certain people they're terrible at cooking and Not Allowed to cook has left some of his charges lacking in essential life skills when they leave the nest. And like. He Knows about Dick's cereal obsession and he had thought of it as an issue of nutrition to be dealt with by Alfred when Dick came to the manor. But. It's an issue beyond that.

And it's not that he (or I) think any of the bats are weaponizing incompetence, or in any way deliberately shirking their responsibilities to their friends, roommates, teammates, partners, but there's a point at which telling people they should stay out of kitchens instead of figuring out How and Why they are burning water when they make an honest attempt is doing them a disservice.

But also. Learning to cook can be messy and destructive and dangerous and he Does Not want that in His Kitchen.

So he talks to Jason, who can cook well and Tim who can cook to survive and be a somewhat healthy vigilante, who are also people with connections and resources. And they put together a plan.

In a warehouse (maybe in Crime Alley or the Narrows where the leftovers and better food made can be given away) that has been refitted to have multiple cooking stations and whatever tools and machines and utensils they can imagine, Alfred and Jason put together a Cooking Boot Camp, using Tim as a guinea pig.

And because Tim genuinely would love to make a nice meal for his boyfriend, (Kon and/or Bernard, readers choice), and he's smart and would love to have this skill but never learned it -- because he was mainly teaching himself to cook well enough to survive and then Be Robin rather than cooking for enjoyment or to get better or to cook for other people, all this -- Tim learns really fast!

And he makes some mistakes and needs some accommodations to help him not forget stuff on the stove when he has a thought about a case. And he learns that the fact that he's only given himself food poisoning a few times is a miracle. But he also learns about flavor pairing and how to make things that taste good. He learns the vocab and individual skills he needs to better follow recipes and cooking videos. And he is Alfred's Kitchen Approved in just under 2 months.

He's making good food that people want to eat and he's enjoying it and proud of it and can make meals for his boyfriend(s).

So Alfred, Jason, and Tim get ready to put the rest of the Bats through the Bat Cooking Boot Camp. They don't need to be Good or even Alfred's Kitchen Approved. But they need to be able to cook for themselves and anyone they might live with/have over for dinner passably well.

Boot Camp attendance is mandatory under threat of being signed up for Worst Cooks in America: Celebrity Edition, and honestly Jason and Alfred are less intimidating than Ann Burrell and all of America.

I will probably have thoughts about every bat and how this goes for them including strengths weaknesses accommodations and how long they're willing to stay/how far in their training they'll go but it's well after 3am and I need to go to sleep. So for now I'm going to post without proofreading. Feel free to add your own thoughts

[kelseytheballerina]

my schedule for nun mode

Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday:

4am wake up, pray

Freshen up, AM skincare

1 hour stretch routine

~5:45 go for a walk or practice ballet at home

7-10am grammar practice

10-2pm vocab practice

2pm read a book

3-5pm working

Cook dinner

Dishes

Review todays notes

PM skincare

Pray before bed

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

4am wake up, pray

Freshen up, AM skincare

1 hour stretch routine

~5:45 go for a walk or practice ballet at home

7-10am grammar practice

10-1pm [3 hour errand/chore/etc block] *

1-2pm vocab practice

2pm read

3-5pm working

Cook dinner

Dishes

Review todays notes

PM skincare

Pray before bed

*As you can see, there are three days (M,W,F) that have a 3 hour block with nothing specific to do. This is to account for grocery shopping, dropping off packages, deep conditioning and restyling my hair, long chores, reorganizing things, building/setting up something I bought, you get the idea. Things that don’t exactly go on a daily schedule or that happen at irregular times. On days where I literally have everything already taken care of and that block is free, I’ll probably use those blocks for extracurriculars I don’t want to neglect during this challenge like ice skating, which I thoroughly enjoy but couldn’t find consistent time for them on this schedule, so this works for me.

As with any schedule, sometimes life gets in the way. I have doctors appointments that will interfere sometimes. I may need to head to the kitchen sooner than scheduled in order to have more time to cook a meal that takes longer than usual. It’s fine to have days that don’t go 100% according to plan. What matters is to not intentionally mess up your schedule with your own laziness and to try to stay on track tomorrow.

I expect Saturdays to very rarely (if ever) be completely perfect since my husband doesn’t work that day and we spend a lot of time together going out and doing activities. I’ll stick to my plan as much as possible but also allow myself to stop when necessary. That’s balance.

[rodolfoparras]

Smoke Sprite

Pairing: Captain Price x Trans Male Reader

WC: ca 7k

Synopsis: Price teaches you how to smoke cigars among other things

Content warning: 18+, • MINORS DNI • dry humping • boot worship • boot grinding • verbal degradation • praise • alluded exhibitionism • Sub! Reader • Dom!Price • reference to afab anatomy (sparsely!) • power dynamics • age gap (no specific age stated but in my head it’s like 10 years between them) • no after care

Stand alone/ part of a series:

A/N: The usual disclaimer: English isn’t my first language so excuse any grammatically incorrect sentences, spelling mistakes, ooc, plot holes… heads up for long sentences as well, who needs proper structure anyway.

First time writing smut too bc at some point we ought to dive into this. Am I right or am I right? Also idk how to do accents, as a non native speaker I have a whole vocab that consist of American and British words and at some point something may sound whack but just rewrite it in your head and enjoy the fic hehe

Also don’t be fooled, you will actually learn about cigars here I did a deep dive for this

Few things were hard to come by when enlisted in the army. One of them being a good night's sleep. It was something you as well as many other soldiers battled with. You’d found that the best way to cope with it was to stay up til your mind was as exhausted as your body and one of the ways you’d  make the time pass was by smoking. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the window sill of the little kitchen provided on base, half way through your third cigarette, wishing your mind would let your body go to bed.

It wasn’t always bad being unable to sleep. Hours you spent awake (albeit against your will)  were also sometimes hours you’d felt the most at peace.

Tonight felt like one of those nights and the peace washed over you in waves, so much so you finally felt like you were ready to head to bed. 

Just as you’re about to follow through with that thought, a sudden noise at the door catches your attention. 

You turn so quickly you almost drop the cigarette you’re smoking, ash falling over you with the motion.  

It’s too dark to see the intruder’s face but you’re still able to see how he freezes in place and quickly raises his hand in defense.

“Relax sergeant” the tension leaves your body when you hear the intruder speak. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was after all one that was on your mind when you couldn’t sleep. “Didn't mean to scare you, was just gonna get something to drink” His voice sounds husky, he’d probably just woken up from his sleep.

You nod your head, as you go to sit down again, taking another drag of your cigarette as you observe the surprise guest. 

His steps are sluggish, head almost dropping as he makes his way over to the fridge and you wonder to yourself if you should turn on some light so he doesn’t trip.

“Don’t know how you can smoke that shit” Price says, somehow managing to express his disdain through his sleep like daze. 

You snort at his words before taking another drag of your cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke only to watch it disappear again. 

 “Look who’s talking” you say referring to the cigar that always seemed glued to his hand.

He opens the fridge, seemingly searching for his drink before he takes out a bottle of water. Soon after he makes his way over to the kitchen counter, across from where you’re sitting. The light from outside shines down on him and you can finally see him properly as he leans on the counter and takes a sip of his drink. 

He’s dressed in some gray sweatpants and a matching tank top to go with it. It wasn’t an unusual sight per say. Many times he'd complain about running hot easily so he always dresses lightly when he sleeps.  However that didn’t mean that you were unaffected by it. 

“Seriously they taste like shit and smell bad too”he says before downing the rest of the water. 

“I don’t smoke for the taste”  you say as your eyes wander from his clothes up to his neck, taking notice of the dog tags on him and the way they’re  glistening with the light shining down on them. Your gaze wanders further up, over to where his Adam's Apple lays and how it bobs every time he takes a sip of his drink, until your gaze finally lands on his face. His eyes are half lidded, lips parted and puffy and a flush coats his cheek. It’s clear that he’d just roll out of bed especially with how mussed his hair is. Despite that he looks good, really good actually.

“You should since these will take you out anyway” he says, bottle now discarded on the counter and hands tucked into his pockets. 

“Teach me how to smoke cigars then” You say tossing your cigarette out the window before turning in your seat to face him properly.

Price raised an eyebrow at that.

“What? You can’t sleep, I can’t sleep, might as well do something useful here. Teach me how to smoke cigars”

The older man scratches at his beard in thought before seemingly making a decision.  With a grunt he signs for you to move over and you do as he says. He sits down next to you, one foot propped on the window sill and the other hanging to the side of it.

Price digs his hand into his left pocket,  pulls out a wooden box of something, pops it open before sliding it over to you.

“Take whichever you want, it doesn't matter. You’ll be prepping it anyway”

“Prepping?” You look at him like he’s grown three heads. It's a cigar after all, what is there to prep anyway?

He nudges his head, signaling for you to take one. When you do so, he takes one himself before he closes the box and pockets it again.

“It’s not like a cigarette. You don’t just shove it into your mouth and smoke it. All good things come with preparation and in moderation.” 

“Are we still talking about cigars here “ you grin widely as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.

Price grunts at your words but doesn’t do much more as he goes into teacher mode.“First thing first, you want to know what you’re working with. That can break or make the experience”

You nod as you look down at the cigar in your hands. However, figuring out what you’re working with wasn’t as easy as it seemed. You’ve smoked for years but cigars were outside of your expertise. 

Price must’ve seen the stupefied look on your face because he says “Don’t look at it like that, lad. It’s a cigar not a ticking time bomb“

“Sorry” you say, shifting in your seat as your free hand fiddles with some loose lint from the sweats you’re wearing. 

“That’s alright. Let’s start with something familiar, yeah?” he mindlessly strokes his beard, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to think of how to explain it. 

“You lick your cigarettes right? How come you do that?” You’re momentarily stunned by the fact that he’s picked up on this. But his question hits you next and you can’t help but feel embarrassed when you confess. 

“Force of habit I guess” you shrug, rubbing at your neck as your eyes wander from him to some random spot on the window sill. 

Hey, you’re a smoker not a smoke connoisseur. You don’t know the ins and outs of nicotine. 

He sighs heavily and drags his hand down his chin before he speaks  “That’s alright.” he says before he goes to explain. “ It's a form of prepping, not really necessary for cigarettes but some smokers do it. However prepping is essentials for cigars”

He then goes on to raise his arm in the air, giving you a clear view of the cigar in his hand.

“First thing first you do a pinch test, it’s pretty simple really. You pinch it between your thumb and point finger. Do not roll it however. If it’s dry it’ll cause unnecessary friction which in turn will cause more tears in the leaf”

He starts to demonstrate the step. You try to focus but your eyes can’t help but wander all over his hands. 

Despite the cigar being quite big, it looks something akin to a cigarette in his grip and although he’s got a rather delicate grip on the cigar you know just how rough he can be with his hands. You’ve seen it many times out on the field, and have even imagined what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the treatment. His hands always look so big and strong, dusted in chestnut hair and lined with thick blue veins. You can’t help but think of how pretty they look as he demonstrates the step. 

“You still with me, lad?” 

You lick your lips, mouth feeling dryer than any tobacco leaf. “Yeah “

“Now do so with yours. Remember just add some light pressure, it doesn’t need much more than that” he says, once again demonstrating the step. You start to feel a pressure in your chest as heats floods from your head down to your feet. You try to focus on his words but they only seem to add to the lightheadedness you’re feeling. 

“You listening?” He asks, taking note of your dazed expression.

You only manage a hum in response to his question as you go to follow his instructions. “It shouldn’t crackle since they should be properly humidified anyway but it’s always good to know the basics yeah?” He says when you both notice there’s no crackling to be heard from the cigar in your hands.

“Now we cut it. I keep this baby on me at all times “ Price says before he pulls out a pocket knife. 

“There's all types of fancy shit for cutting but the principle is to cut as little as possible rather than the opposite. You just kind of snip it off” he says as he places the knife at the tip and executes the move perfectly.

“Now you try,” he hands it over to you and you can’t help but feel quite confident in this part. The task didn’t seem complicated anyway. But as you go to cut it, it turns out to be much harder than it seemed.  The cut is nothing like Price’s. If anything it’s jaggedy and has the tobacco leaves crackling at the tip. 

 “That’s alright, you can-“

Before he gets the chance to say anything else, you wrap your lips around the tip, allowing your spit to smoothen out any loose pieces. 

“Oh- “ you look up at Price only to see him swallow hard. 

“That’s a good lad” he says, voice sounding deeper when he speaks “was gonna say to not slobber it down in saliva but you seem to know your thing “

Your face feels hot when you go to respond.“Thanks” 

It’s strange- this relationship you got with your captain. At first sight it might seem that you’re the one throwing flirty remarks around here. And he’s the one who acts unphased, or even annoyed at your flirting attempts. But matter of fact is he’s the one making suggestive remarks whether consciously or subconsciously and you’re the one phased by it. You wish you too could be as unphased as him because his recovering time for these types of situations is remarkable, really. 

His voice is void of any previous emotion when he goes to speak again “Now to the last part, we light it”

And of course you try to keep with him. 

“Never thought we’d get to it” you say, hoping and praying you seem just as unphased as he seems . But you can still feel your face burning and your voice slightly wobbling and the intense look he’s giving you isn’t helping you very much either. 

“Hey you wanted me to teach you” Price reminds you with a pointed look. 

“Go on please” you gesture dramatically before leaning back in your seat.

“The way you choose to light it will affect the taste. It’s all a matter of preference so to say “

“And how do you like yours to taste?” Your words come out more suggestive than intended and you can hear Price sucking in a sharp breath, head tilting and his eyes boring into yours when he says “I prefer to take my time with things, enjoy it thoroughly, make the most out of it if you know what I mean”

The mood feels different; stirring in a direction that has nothing to do with cigars and everything to do with something else, something-

“You’ll achieve that with a soft flame”

And it's quickly broken again. 

Price fishes a box of matches out of his pocket, slides it open and takes a few of them before pocketing it again.

“Always use two matches but don’t be fooled, you can’t hurry the process this is just to ensure the cigar burns even. You with me?”

You nod - maybe a bit too eagerly to show him you’re listening, brows furrowed and lips puckered in concentration and if you’d be focused on someone else you’d see the ghost of a smile on Price’s face. 

“You strike the matches and tilt them downwards, then rotate your cigar around the them “

“Like a marshmallow ”  the words slip mindlessly out of your mouth and his eyes widen in surprise before he laughs. 

You feel the tip of your ears go red but smile at what he says next “Fuckin’ hell, sure like a marshmallow “

Instead of saying something else that would result in making a bigger fool of yourself, you choose to do as he says. 

You take two matches from him and attempt to strike them. 

However it feels like the universe is on a mission to make you seem like the biggest fool because for some reason you can’t light up your match. 

After your third failed attempt paired with some curses under your breath Price decides to offer you some help. 

He leaves his place on the window sill, and leaves his cigar in the ashtray to stand behind you instead. But just as he does it, you manage to light them yourself. However for some reason he chooses not to go back to his seat.

“Like that,” you hear him before you see him, and smell his cologne behind the clouds of smoke. 

You try to keep your focus as you slowly rotate the cigar in your hands

“Good lad you’re doing so good,” the words make you feel like a match ignited, burning from your head down to your toes.  

“Is it done?” You don’t know what you’re asking about- the lessons or the torture he’s unknowingly putting you through.

“Ever heard of the word patience, kid?“ he chides and if it weren’t for your close proximity making you feel all funny you’d say something to him.

“Just one more round of matches and you’re good to go yeah?” His voice is gruff and breathy when he speaks, almost akin to the tone he uses when he gives commands on the field. You feel the wisps of hair from his beard brushing across your ear and the heat from the close proximity of your bodies. You chose to nod in response, opting to bite your tongue in fear of saying something you might regret later on. 

Soon you find yourself with a lit cigar in your hands. 

“There now to the last step” the heat quickly disappears as a gust of cold wind creeps onto your skin and you’re sure it’s not because of the open window but rather from the space between your bodies as he goes back to his own seat.  

“The most important rule of smoking- if you’re to remember anything out of this- is to not inhale it but rather take a light drag. Your body and your lungs will be thankful for sparing them, see it as something you slosh around in your mouth rather than shove down your windpipe”

You raise a brow at his choice of words.

“I am not the best teacher, “ he shrugs before picking up his cigar again.  

He puts it between his lips and takes a light drag of it and you can’t help but think that he looks attractive doing it. 

You never thought smoking was attractive. You smoked to ease your nerves and couldn’t wrap your head around what would be so attractive about a little nicotine stick and the awful smell that came along with it. But looking at him now with his eyelids hanging low, head tilted to the side as he exhales the smoke, you finally understand why people thought so. Especially now, with his Adam’s apple on show, dog tags gleaming behind the clouds of smoke and his toned arms flexing every time he goes to take another drag of the cigar. 

“You do the most work in the beginning until you see white smoke. That’s how you know it’s properly lit and you can actually start to enjoy it“ Price’s voice sounds stern when he speaks; like a knowledgeable teacher sharing information to his interested students. And you sure were interested: in more ways than one. 

“Most work in the beginning huh?” You grin wolfishly at him.

“You pull a lot of jokes, kid “ he chuckles as he continuously spins the cigar in his hand. 

Kid. Your nose scrunches at the word  “Not a kid and who said it’s a joke?” 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead he tilts his head and rubs his beard as if mulling over something before speaking again.

“You try now”

You nod your head as you attempt to focus on the task at hand. But it isn’t easy,  your eyes flicker from his fingers, to his lips, to the way he sits leaned back in his seat with smoke surrounding him.

Before you know it you’re inhaling the cigar, doing the complete opposite of what he told you and within seconds you feel the smoke hitting you all at once; blurring your vision and sending you into a coughing fit.  

“I told you not to inhale it” he tuts as he leans over to take the cigar from your hands before he goes to pat your back “damn shame you seemed so good at following directions, what happened?”

You try to speak but the burning sensation in your throat cuts you off. His hand is once again on your back rubbing up and down aimlessly before he suddenly gets up and you instinctively grab onto him “I’m just going to get something to drink” he says, repeating his words from before and you nod, allowing him to do so. 

“Here” he says a moment later, pressing a cold water bottle against your cheek.

You flinch away from the cold sensation, but grab it anyway, downing more than half the bottle within seconds. 

“Take it easy or you’ll choke again, boy”

Despite the advice you find yourself unable to slow  down and you down the rest like a man parched. 

He chuckles at your actions and grabs hold of your chin, turning your head to face him. 

“That good?” He asks, eyes shining with both hints of worry and amusement.

You nod in response feeling heat creep up your neck and ears. The feeling intensifies when his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, wiping off any remaining liquid before he pops it in his mouth to lick it off of him. 

“I - I can do better” you croak out, still trying to catch your breath.

“What’s that boy?”

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, braving yourself to speak  “I meant what I said I can do it, let me try again”

His gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips, seemingly making a decision when he goes to speak.

“Alright, come here “  he says before he goes back to his seat on the window sill, cigar tucked back between his lips, and with smoke surrounding him. He looks delectable to say the least. 

As if it were a reflex your body complies to his request, shuffling over to sit closer to him. 

You can feel your knees brushing, smell the scent of his cologne mixing with the cloud of smoke, can even see each and every eyelash on his eye along with  the gray hairs sprinkled across his chestnut beard.

You thought you couldn’t get any closer than this but suddenly he leans further in and your eyes go wide as you watch him. His hand goes to your head,  strokes your hair, and brushes back any loose strands or flies aways before it glides across your cheeks, until finally stopping at your lips. 

“Open up, now” he says, one hand under your chin and the other tapping his cigar against your lips.

“Lets try this again, yeah? You did so well, don't want the lesson to go to waste” You hum in response, parting your lips before wrapping them around the cigar. However you don’t take a drag. Instead you await his command. 

“Remember gently, no need to put much effort into it, yeah?” 

You nod as you put all your focus into doing as he says and finally you manage to take a proper drag of it, enough to taste it and enough to blow it out properly as well.

“Good lad. I knew you could do it “  the look of pride on his face along with his words goes straight to your head. Like the cat that got the cream, you think to yourself.

You go to take another drag of it and as you do he places his hand on the small of your back, soothingly rubbing up and down the length of it. You try to focus on the cigar rather than his touch because you fear that in itself will send you into a coughing fit. But it’s hard to stay focused on the cigar when his hand leaves the small of your back and makes its way up to your neck instead. You’re just about to blow out the smoke when his hand wraps around your neck and gently squeezes it.

You part your lips in surprise and as  you do so smoke leaves your mouth, coming out in little circles that quickly dissipate in the air. Your eyes widen at your little trick and he just chuckles at your reaction, before releasing his grip completely and leaning back a bit.

“Little trick I learnt “ he says innocently, shrugging even before he clears his throat, eyes avoidant of your own but manages a thank you when you pass the cigar back to him.

A rather awkward silence falls over you two as you try to process what happened. Price’s hand around your neck- the shy reaction you got from it- the fact that he knew this trick in the first place. It all hangs in the air like clouds of smoke and puts your mind in daze. It’s hard to snap out of it but once you do you wonder if you should say something or move on to the next subject. Looking at him you can clearly see he’s embarrassed about it so you choose to spare him but you also choose to store this moment in your mind for when you’re in desperate need of a replay.  

“Gotta give it to you, you were right about the taste. It’s pretty nice actually” 

He inhales sharply at that, eyes falling to your lips as he goes to speak “Yeah? Why don’t you describe it to me? Last part of the lesson. Need you to name the flavors ” His hand is now at your thigh, fingertips mindlessly tracing circles onto it and you think it isn’t fair of him. He can clearly see the way your body is reacting to him- to his touches- to his words and he still expects you to function.

You must’ve taken too long to respond because Price’s hand squeezes your thigh in warning “Sergeant” 

“Creamy- it tastes creamy sir “ you stumble over your words but still manage to get out a response. 

He hums in response, hand tightening at your thigh before once again squeezing it to get your attention. “Anything else? Any specific flavor you can name. Go on, take another drag of it“ he says before passing the cigar back to you. For once you’re thankful that your body reacts so easily to his commands. Your head’s far too gone at this point to be able to give your body instructions. 

You take another drag of the cigar, allowing the smoke to coat your tongue before exhaling it. There’s a rich sweetness accompanied with a certain bitterness dancing across your taste buds “Coffee tastes like coffee sir- maybe even hits of almond as well?” you say through batted lashes, eagerly awaiting his response.

“Correct. My favorite” he hums in approval.“You’re a quick learner,huh?” The phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head again but this time you couldn’t care less. This time you'd gladly accept it.  You’d gladly be the cat and you’d gladly take all the cream especially if it was -

Price grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you close. “You know what else is good to learn? “ 

You gasp at the sudden motion and instinctively grab onto him, one hand at his arm, the other barely holding onto the cigar. His voice is dangerously low and breathy and the way his hot breath washes over your neck raises goosebumps all over your body.

You can even feel the tell tale sign of his thick mustache brush up against your neck as he goes to say “subtlety, my boy”  

There’s little to no space between your bodies. He’s so close to you that you can hear his gruff voice forming the words at the back of his throat, and feel how they vibrate against his chest as he speaks them.  Yet you ache to be closer so you grip tighter onto him and press your body closer to his. 

“You were fidgeting around in your seat and barely paying attention to what I was saying. I almost thought you were getting bored of the lesson but that can’t be right now can it? ” 

It's no longer wisps of mustache hair brushing against your neck but rather a full beard trailing up to the spot behind your ear. And every time he goes to speak, it brushes relentlessly against the skin,  leaving burn marks behind him. 

“No- no sir. I’m very eager to learn” your mind’s starting to feel hazy, your breath’s quickening and you can’t help but tighten your grip on him, nails sinking into supple skin. You hear him wince but can’t bring yourself to care nor to loosen your grip. 

There's a nagging voice at the back of your head telling you this is just a wet dream or even worse a hallucination as you lay bleeding out on a field. So to silence it you tighten your hold on him, hoping and praying you aren’t just imaging him.

However he seems very much real because his arm feels firm and flexes under your tight grip. Every time you go to take a breath you smell the scent of smoke and cologne that seem to follow him and all you can see is his broad back and the small curls at the back of his neck. 

“Mm eager you say '' His accent is much thicker now, desire coating his tongue and slurring his words and his tone is playful like you’ve never heard it be before. All of a sudden you feel his fingers at the back of your head, fingers burrowing into the thick mane of hair before he pulls your head up to face him.

“I expect a response when I speak sergeant “ he says, tugging at your hair in warning.

You whimper at the sting, eyes batting up at him as you go to respond to him “Y- yes sir I’m very eager to learn”

Price looks at you with half lidded eyes and with an arrogant smile across his lips as he goes to cup your cheek.  “I suppose someone so eager wouldn’t have any issues repeating the steps we learned today”

“No sir” you manage to spurt out a response as you lean into his touch. 

“That’s a good boy” he says as his thumb caresses your cheek. “So good for me, yeah?” His voice almost sounds like the one he uses on the field when he goes to praise his team, except this one is just a bit lower, more breathier and wraps around endearments only meant for your ears. 

“How about this,”  he begins to say, hand slipping from your cheek, trailing down to your neck and landing on your shoulder. He takes his time to straighten the collar before he speaks again 

“if you can tell me all the steps we went through today” he trails off once again as both of his hands slide down the length of your arms before finally stopping at your thighs where they rub soothing circles onto them. “I’ll reward you for it “  

“Only if you want to, of course” he says, as he goes to take his hands off your thighs. 

“Oh I want to ” you say hurriedly as you grab onto his hand to keep them in place.” A lot, actually” you add in a shaky tone feeling your face heat up at your own words. 

His eyes flare with desire and he takes a sharp breath before he says  “Sit back for me yeah? One leg on each side of the window, need you to sit comfortably for this okay?” 

You do as he says, one foot on the desert ground and the other one on the wooden floor and you automatically lean back on the window frame to make yourself comfortable.

He on the other hand, has one boot clad foot propped on the window sill and the other one hanging to the side of, leaning back comfortably.

Your hands are trembling in your lap, fingers still gripping onto the cigar and you can see goosebumps rising on your bare skin but it’s not because of the cool metal pressing against it or because of the howling wind. It's rather something else and  Price seems to know the very reason behind it because he says.

“You’re shaking my boy are you nervous about presenting?” He asks in a mocking tone, before he takes the cigar from you  and puts it in between his lips. While you’re trembling in your seat he looks as relaxed as ever, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and with an expectant smile on his lips.

“No-no sir” you respond as you squirm under his expecting gaze.

“Get on with it then” he says sharply and you spring into action.

“The first thing you do is prepare your cigar. That can make or break the experience… “ you trail off as you scramble your brain for what to say next. But your train of thoughts is quickly cut off by a sudden pressure on your left leg.

Price’s foot gently nudges your thigh and once again, as if it were a reflex, your body responds to him; legs spreading further apart, to make more room for him.

Suddenly, he starts tapping  his foot impatiently, purposely grazing his boot clad foot against sensitive skin as he waits for you to recite the next step. Despite the sweats you’re wearing, you’re so worked up that every touch feels like he’s grazing bare skin. 

“Go on. I didn’t tell you to stop” he warns as he puts a punishing pressure onto your thigh, harsh sole digging into soft skin and you wince at the impact before you speak. 

“To check if your cigar is moist you use your thumb and point fingers and squeeze - squeeze it from top to bottom” the air is punched out of your lungs, your words breaking up as the boot moves from your thigh to instead rest directly atop of your dick. 

You gasp, fingers grabbing onto the edges of the window sill as your hips buck to get more of the feeling “I’m sorry- I’m sorry sir” you say, feeling embarrassed at your body’s reaction. 

However Price doesn’t acknowledge your action nor your words. Instead he decides to raise attention to something else. 

“No underwear ?” He asks, taking notice of the wet patch forming on your gray sweats.  

“No sir I sleep commando”  Price curses under his breath and you feel the pressure increase in between your legs.

 “ Of course you fuckin do” he hisses and presses down even harsher, making you jolt at the movement and you just know that the embarrassingly big patch is growing larger by the minute with the way Price grins down at the spot between your legs. And when you look down at yourself you don’t only see the large wet spot on your sweats but you also see soil covered footprints all over it.  The mess in between your legs shouldn’t turn you on but the sheer sight of it makes you whimper and buck your hips.

“What’s the next step?”

You go to respond but end up choking on your words when you feel the fabric of your sweats slip between your folds and push directly up against your sensitive clit. He even goes to rock his foot side to side, boot continuously assaulting your sensitive numb. 

“What’s gotten your little cock so excited you can’t even speak?”

You whimper at his words, eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the pleasure. “You’re being mean sir”

“Mean?”  he asks, voice dripping in faux concern but never once letting up on his torturous movements. “I’m just trying to reward you here. You want your reward, don’t you?”

You nod frantically as you buck your hips up at him. All of a sudden he ceases any and all movements and you snap your eyes open up to look at him.

He raises a brow at you with a wolfish grin on his lips. You blink up at him for a moment, before it clicks; he wants you to work for it. 

You almost huff at the realization. Nonetheless you adjust in your seat, hands propping behind your back as you bend at your knees before you gently start to rock your hips: his boot once again hitting your sensitive clit. 

“We - we cut it. Not too much though, just the tip” you manage to get out the words before you break off into moans.  You don’t realize how loud you’re being until he shushes you. It’s only then you realize that someone else can see or even worse hear you two. 

“What if- what if someone sees us sir?” You ask but never once letting up on your movements. 

It takes a while for Price to respond, too entranced with the sight in front of him, leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and cigar between his lips. You can barely see his face from the smoke surrounding him but the way his chest is rising and falling at a rapid beat and the way the cigar is shaking in his grip you know he is enjoying your performance. 

Truth be told you don’t even know if he heard you in the first place but when you go speak again he says “No one will see anything I promise” he says in reassurance.”Everyone’s fast asleep and if someone even tries to look or listen I’ll teach them to mind their own fuckin business. “ 

With that you turn your attention back to chasing your high, this time uncaring about who can see or hear as you lose yourself in the pleasure. 

However your attention is brought back to him once again when he says “But maybe you’d like them to?” He says, voice sounding thick and gruff. You snap your head towards him only to see him glowering down at you with desire swirling in his blue irises and a playful smile at his lips.

You know he’s just entering the thought of it, he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. And you can see his gaze switching from your face to your body to gauge your reaction.  And he must see the positive reaction your body gives because he continues “you’d like for them to see how pretty you look all worked up for me? Maybe even jerk themselves off to you? Can't blame them if they did. You look too good like this” you can only moan in response as he continues to talk “maybe you’d even want them to join us. One cock isn’t enough for you. A slut like you needs to get all your holes stuffed to be happy isn’t that right?” 

Your pace increases at his words as you lose yourself to the pleasure. But you’re quickly brought back to the present when he says  “What’s the next step sergeant?“ 

You blink back the haze, as you try to scramble your brain for what to say next.

“Next you light it - you need two”  at this point you’re just spurting out nonesene, too busy chasing your pleasure. 

Although his boot does hit your clit, many times - due to your fast paced beat- it’ll miss, aim too clumsy and messy to reach it. It doesn’t take long for you to make the decision to latch one hand onto his leg, the other making sure to support your weight as you adjust his foot so that the tip of his boot hits your clit every time you rock against it. 

You know you’re putting on a show for anyone who might hear or see; legs spread wide apart, arousal and mud covering your sweats as you desperately cling onto Price’s leg and moaning desperately. However you can’t find it in yourself to care,  can’t  focus on anything other than the pleasure coiling between your legs.

You look up at Price through half lidded eyes and mouth agape only to see a similar expression on his face. 

“Jesus, look at you grinding on me like a bitch in heat, you enjoying this hm?”

“Yes yes sir, enjoy it so much” At this point you're slurring your words, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut as you focus on nothing else but the heat growing in your core.

 Your heels dig further into the floor, knees cramping from the awkward position and arms aching from supporting your weight for so long. But you refuse to let up on your pace. You’re so close to the finish line you can almost taste it.

“Almost there” you warn him before your mind’s too far gone to say something.

“Then you better explain the last step or there will be none of it, sergeant “ he says as he squeezes your thigh in warning. 

“Yes sir” you groan out before you will yourself to speak again “you puff it - you do the most work in the beginning until-“ you don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re cut off by your own moan.

 “until what sergeant?” Is the last thing you hear before you lose focus of your surroundings, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as you chase your high on Price’s boot.

“Until - until - it starts working by-. “ is all you manage to get out before you’re cumming- stumbling over the finish line with your back arched and with a cry of victory.

You don’t even get to warn him before you’re falling back in your seat, arms giving out and legs losing their footing.  As you do so the boot accidentally rubs against your clit and for the first time since you ended up in this situation you jerk back from the friction, dick too sensitive. 

You end up leaning against your elbow, window frame uncomfortably pressed against your spine and Price’s hands on your thighs keeping you from falling straight to the ground.

“You alright?” Price asks after a moment of silence  and you feel his hand on your thigh again, rubbing soothing circles on them.

You hum in response, still lost in bliss and he chuckles as he gives you a moment to come down from it.  

Once you do, you flutter your eyes open and smile lazily at him. 

 “Good job my boy, you did so well”

“Thank you, sir” your face burns as you respond. him and the phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head once again. 

Suddenly you see Price’s brows furrow, tongue poking past his lips as he looks down at his feet. 

“Looks like you left a stain there” he says as nonchalantly as possible and points to his soiled boot “could you clean it up for me please?”

Your eyes flash in surprise and for a moment the words hang in the air.  

But as quickly as they came, the words  dissipate leaving a haze behind that seems to take over your brain.

“Of - of course, sir “ you say as you scurry out of your seat but before you can get any further he stops you with his foot, firmly pressing it against your chest “with your tongue sergeant “

You suck in a breath and you can feel your dick twitch in your soiled sweats. 

“Yes sir” 

You lean in so that you’re face to face with the boot he’s wearing. It’s a simple black boot, worn out  from everything it’s been through but there’s one spot on top of it that shines like it’s been newly polished.  It’s the very same spot you zoom in on, tongue poking past your lips as you trace a path from the very bottom up to the top of it.

You feel the soft leather scrape against your tongue as the familiar taste dances across your tastebuds. And every time you go to lick the boot your nose brushes against the leather and you smell yourself on it.  Despite the work you put into cleaning it you know you’ve ruined the spot with your arousal and instead of feeling bad about it you can’t help but moan at the fact that he can’t hide the evidence of the event that had transpired. You give it one last lick before you kiss the boot and smile at him.

He curses under his breath, a mix of swear words accompanied with your name leaving his lips and your grin widens as you sit up again. 

“Enjoy  the rest of your night, kid” he says all of sudden, patting your thigh lightly before jumping to his feet. “When you’re ready to put out the cigar, just let it rest on the ashtray, it’ll put itself out that way” he says as he shows how to do it with his very own cigar before making his way over to the door.

Within seconds you’re up on your feet, moving on wobbly legs you almost fall back on the window sill. 

“Hey, where are you going?” 

“Lesson’s over” he says  simply before looking down at the watch on his wrist “and I’m old and need my rest. “ He looks away from his watch to the mess between your legs. 

“Besides, you need to get cleaned up. See you tomorrow, kid” he says with a wink as he leaves. 

“See you tomorrow” you say into the now empty room, chuckling in disbelief as you plop yourself back down on the window sill. You’re a sticky mess and should probably go shower but instead you take a drag of your cigar before you say “This man’s truly something else”