#Personalized Cuban Coffee Cups

[storysofmyown]

Web of Lies

Summary:  After months of sleeping with Miguel as his own personal stress toy, you  finally mustered up the courage to ask him out on a date. All you could  hope for was he would show up and you two would have a lovely evening.  Of course, that was just too much to ask from someone as cold as the  spider-man from your universe.

TW: Smut, cursing.

Note: I know i normally only write for obey me but..i just had to write for this man...

Word Count: 10,081

Read on Ao3

“…so”

You started, eyeing Miguel  carefully from across the desk. The only sound in the room being the  noise of your pen clicking against the clipboard in an attempt distract  yourself from the growing sensation of dread.

“¿Si?” Miguel  answered, his eyes glued to the screen in which another universe was  being shown. Apparently there had been some recent trouble of an anomaly  in the place. Although it had been taken care of, from what you heard,  he was making sure there wasn’t any residue or another anomaly they had  to take care of that would endanger that specific universe or others.

“The  new restaurant in my town opened. Apparently is very good and kind of  upscale.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes going from  the clipboard to the man’s back. “I was wondering if you would like to  come with me.” You finally asked.

It was a far-off chance he’d  agree. Although your little ‘arrangement’ had been going on for a few  months now, that didn’t mean the man was in any way or form  sentimentally attached to you. He was always working, either on the  technicalities, management of the society, or being his own universe  Spider-man, he was always busy. The stress had started taking a toll on  his body and mental state, and you let him use you as a way for him to  take out all that vent up stress. It started as a once off thing. He was  stressed, angry, disappointed, and downright desperate after a anomaly  escaped and his useless team had failed to locate it. Neither of you  meant for that to happen, but in the moment, he just latched onto your  lips and one thing led to another, with the man taking out his  frustration on your half naked body as he pinned you against his desk,  hips slamming into yours as moans filled the room.

That had gone  on for almost an hour before he was interrupted by Lyla, the hologram  appeared beside his shoulder and stating that they had found some  information. He had basically forced himself to finish so he could get  back to work. But after that he seemed more…calm. At least he didn’t  chew out the team of spiders when they came back from the mission.  Neither of you both address what had happened in his office that day for  a few weeks. But it was far from the last time it happened.

A  couple of weeks later he had come back raging from a villain that had  vested him. This was in his own dimension, and for some reason, the fact  that he had been up against universe destroying entities and come out  victorious, made it stung for the man the fact a stupid ‘villain of the  week’, had managed to get an upper hand on him. You didn’t even get to  say a word as he finished placing a warm cup of Cuban coffee on his  desk, when the man turned you around and started kissing you  desperately. This time, though, it wasn’t against the wall. And your  time together wasn’t interrupted. The man was insatiable. All that rage  and strength made him relentless, and he just kept going no matter how  many times the both of you came undone. You had to spend the night in  the night in one of the empty rooms in the office. There was no way you  could walk home after he took you in such a way. The third time was  when you proposed the deal. This time it hadn’t been in his office or  the workplace. This time, while getting settled for a late-night movie  session, the man appeared. He had come through your window, and there  were wounds all over his torso, his suit ripped and even the mask had  taken some damage, which meant his face would have also taken some  damage. After helping disinfect and bandage the wounds, the two of you  stared at each other in silence. Only for him to latch onto your lips.  The kiss started a bit softer, but it slowly grew. You allowed him once  more to take his disappointment in himself, his anger, rage and worries  on your body. With someone as powerful as him, he could certainly do a  number on your poor body, much smaller than the others, but damn it did  not matter when he was making you feel that good and you were just oh so  close to him in that moment.

It was the first time he stayed  close to you after the two had been together. Just cuddling you into his  chest as you struggled to get your breath back and rest enough before  getting into the shower. After that, you asked him if he was more at  ease. When his response was affirmative you couldn’t help but feel  almost…giddy. Someone like yourself, a simply human, being able to take  on such a powerful and strong man and not only making him feel good but  helping him with his worries trough you. Yeah, that made you feel  special. So, you caved at your own desires. And the arrangement was  made. Whenever he needed something or someone to help him trough his  emotions, to help ease his worries and to make him feel good, you were  there. And the man certainly took you up on your word.

Of course,  this was mutually beneficial. You both got what you wanted, and the next  day, in front of everyone, you´d act like nothing had happened and  carry on work like normal. Unless he needed to use you again. In which  case you were more than happy to give him what he needed wherever and  whenever as long as no one caught the two of you.

That had been  going on now for the last five months. Some very delicious five months.  But lately…you have been craving more than just the physical  satisfaction, While the nights with him were still extremely  satisfactory you wished the man would be a bit more…romantic. Sometimes  the best part of the night was watching him sleep soundly next to you  after you both had your fill. His handsome face finally relaxed. The  permanent frown he wore to all the other spiders finally gone and almost  a soothing expression appeared in its place as soft snores filled the  room and you watched the man sleep. It didn’t take you long before you  realized you were in deep shit. And you wanted more than just the sex he  had been offering up until now. Hence, why you were making a futile  attempt of getting to meet the man outside of his job for reasons other  that your usual activities.

“What time?” Miguel asked once more  without turning around. Although, the fact he had asked that gave you a  silver of hope. Maybe he would go…

“Eh…any is fine. How about 7:00? We can meet there if you’d life.”

After a moment of pondering the man finally answered.

“Sure. It seems like things are calm in the multiverse and here too. I suppose I can make the time.”

Your  heart leaps in your chest. ‘Yes! We got a date!’ You couldn’t help but  cheer to yourself internally, wide smile showing as the clicking of your  pen grew faster.

“G-Great! I’ll see you tomorrow at seven then!”  You beamed, feeling excitement grew before you frowned a bit. “Unless I  see you tonight as well-?” You asked, unsure if the man had plans on  dropping trough your window like he usually did. You stared at the man,  and you could have sworn there was almost a smile on his lips.

“Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You chuckled at that.

“Ya, ya, okay.” You smile at him. “Goodbye, Miguel.”

And  with that, you finished organizing his papers before going out of his  office. Not before saying goodbye to some of the spider-people you  usually mingled with. After saying bye to them, you returned to your  place, feeling giddy and excited all over on the prospect of seeing the  man tomorrow.

The next day rolled up. The date fell right on your  day off, so, for the most part, you couldn’t do anything other than to  excitedly and anxiously wait for the time to come. The nerves betray you  for some reason and only let you eat just a little. You started getting  ready two hours before the time came for you to leave your home. You  couldn’t help but be excited at the idea. This was Miguel, after all.  The dark, brooding, almost cynical man that everyone in spider society  respected and some even feared. He was their boss, at the head and in  charge of taking care of the entire multiverse. He was also your  universes spider-man. A powerful and strong man. He was also, under all  the stress, anger, and sadness, he was caring. You had seen that side of  you. It was inevitable. With how many nights and days you had spent  together, you started to see behind the stoic façade. Well, it wasn’t  really a façade, but there was more to Miguel than meet the eye and…you  wanted to be with him, and not just sexually.

Finally, the time  rolled. You give yourself one last look in the mirror before taking your  stuff and finally making your way to the restaurant. You arrived a few  minutes earlier, which was fine, you didn’t mind waiting, Once seated,  you brought out your phone, checking yourself in the reflection before  smiling to yourself a bit. The nerves were starting to eat through, but  everything would be fine, it would be a hell of a time. After making  sure your hair was still like you brushed it, you unlocked your phone  and searched for his contact. Shooting a quick text.

‘Miguel, I’m already at the restaurant, so don’t worry about picking the   table. See you in a bit.’ – 6:58.

You  smiled at the text before humming to yourself. A waitress approached  you, and you decided to start things off a bit early, getting yourself a  glass of whine while you waited for the man. Once the wine arrived, you  carefully sipped on it, distracting yourself with both the wine and  your phone until Miguel arrived.

Except, it was already 7:23, and  your boss had yet to arrive. You were starting to get angsty. He must be  running late, right? You checked your phone and noticed the man hadn’t  been online in the last 3 hours, Okay, that explained why he hadn’t  answered your text. Unlike you and everyone, it was like that man never  took a break, He must had gone to HQ today as well and was now running a  bit late. Yeah, that must be it. You’d give him a few more minutes and  maybe shoot another text. Yeah, you were a bit impatient, that was all.

‘Your sit is getting lonely without you.’ – 7:35

‘Well now I’m the one starting to get lonely.’ – 7:49

‘I’m starting to get worried here. Did something happen?’ – 7:58.

‘¿Holaaaa?’ 8:05

“…malditacea.”  You cursed under your breath. Deleting the next text, you were planning  on sending the man. It was nearly 8:30. And you were on your fourth  glass of wine. “…he really just stood me up.”

You whispered to  yourself. Disbelief coating your every word as you looked down at your  phone. There was no sign of the man at all. The city was also calm. Was  there a mission? Maybe…its not like the civilians working for them knew  all about the missions, surely it was a last-minute thing and he  couldn’t contact you. Yeah…yeah that must be it. After a beat, and a few  more seconds of hope, you sighed to yourself, looking at the clock.  Yeah…he…he was going to show up tonight.

‘I’m going home. Hope everything is alright.’ – 8:29.

After  asking for the check over the wines, you made your way back home.  Trying with every fiber of your being to rationalize what had just  happened. Surely there was an explanation for all of this. He would  surely call you the first moment he could and explain everything to you.  Maybe even offer to make it up to you. There…there was no way he’d  stood you up or ghost you intentionally, right?

That night, you  barely catch a wink of sleep. Thinking of the evening and the fact he  hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t until the very early hours of the morning  that you finally managed to get some sleep. And it wasn’t until the next  day afternoon that you woke up. Your tired body refused to get up from  the bed. It would be better to just stay there, you didn’t have work  until tomorrow either way. Although, there was just enough energy for  you to grab your phone from the nightstand and check it.

Still  nothing from Miguel. Your heart tightened around your chest, and tears  prickled your eyes. Even if there were no notifications you still  decided to unlock your phone and check the news. It didn’t seem to  report any attack or spider-man appearances the night before. Then you  checked the texts. Just in case you told yourself. But…you kind of  wished you didn’t. Apparently, Miguel had been online a few hours ago.  Not only that, but he had read your messages at the time he was only. It  appeared he had hopped on the chat around 11:00. But there was no  response yet…

‘Don’t you dare cry!’ You hissed to yourself.  Closing your eyes tightly, you didn’t know what you felt more. If  humiliation, sadness, or just pure anger. Internally you cursed  yourself, before throwing the phone back into the nightstand, covering  yourself from head to toe with the covers, trying to hold back the tears  as much as possible. There…there had to be an explanation, he wouldn’t  just leave you in seen like that. Even if you two were just ‘fuck  buddies’, he cared about you, right?! At least you hoped he did…you’d  just have to ask him tomorrow, and hopefully, everything would be  cleared up. But for now, for now you just wanted to fall asleep again.

*********

The  noise was getting to your nerves. You really pondered staying today at  home after the night rolled and there still were no signs of Miguel. But  you couldn’t afford to let your feelings get in the way of work.  Besides, if you saw him today, there would certainly be a conversation  about what had happened. He would surely apologize. As cold as the man  could be, he was also polite, he wouldn’t be the type to say yes to a  date and then never show up…even if that was exactly what he did.

You  shook your head from those thoughts and sighed. Your hand hovered over  the control panel. You took perhaps a few seconds too long to type in  the passcode to his office. And those around you were starting to  notice. You took a deep breath, trying to still the nerves and sighed.  You’d just act casual, and not upset. He would surely bring it up on his  own. Maybe even propose to make it up…

After a beat, you finally  typed in the passcode, entering the others office, and allowing the door  to close behind you. The difference between outside and inside the  office always meant you have to take a few seconds in order to adjust to  the dark. And the sudden deafening silence that was only contrasted by  the beeping of machines or Miguel typing something was the only thing  making the place seem active. You saw the platform move, and once it was  on the floor, you hopped in.

The first thing you noticed was how  messy the office seemed, There were papers scattered everywhere, the  trashcan had been flipped over, the chair was laying a good four feet  away from the desk, and talking about the desk, it had several dents  around its surface. You frowned at that. Certainly, that wasn’t there  when you were last here. But for now, you simply ignored it, focusing  your eyes on the man standing in front of the monitor. Once more, his  back was turned back on you. Except this time, you couldn’t see his face  at all.

“…m-morning, Miguel.” You started, glancing carefully at the man before clearing your throat. “I brought you your coffee.”

You  continued, placing the cup in the desk, making sure to place it in an  undamaged area just in case. Now you stayed silent, watching the mans  broad back once more. Who had yet to acknowledge you or said anything at  all. Your nerves started to pick up again. The usual tick kicking in as  you started clicking the pen rapidly.

"Uh…Miguel?”

You  spoke once more, this time, at the very least, earning a low sound in  response and the man to move his body ever so slightly to look at you.  There was a deep glare, frowning, and his eyes were bright red, making  you swallow as you starred at the man. Oh, he was pissed. You simply  blinked in his direction, the clicking sound still filling the room as  you starred at him, only for the man look back at the screen in front of  him. There was some kind of video being displayed over it, but from  your position you couldn’t make it out. Although, you had a feeling you  already knew the kind of video that was playing…

A father can never forget their little princess after all.

You  simply swallowed once more. Normally his irritated, pissed, angry,  raging or stressed mannerism or reactions didn’t bother you. Yes, at  first you did think the man was scary, but as time went on, you couldn’t  help but find him kind of…hot when he was angry, and thankfully, he  rarely ever directed that anger towards you, only being snappy and rude  at times but he quickly calmed down with you and just focused on his  job. That was until your…arrangement started. After that it became even  hotter when he was angry, because now instead of getting snappy or rude,  he’d simply slam you against the wall and started kissing you  fervently. Just the memory of it caused your knees to weaken. But right  now, there was no time for that.

Miguel might be pissed right now,  but you had every right to be as well! You waited almost two hours for  him to show up and the damn man didn’t. You had every right in the world  to be pissed off! But you simply sighed. ‘Something must have  happened’. You reason with yourself, before trying to put on the usual  smile just as you saw Miguel turn around towards the board.

“Did  you…do anything this weekend?” You questioned, maybe he was just ashamed  and didn’t want to bring it up, but he couldn’t escape from it forever.

“No.”

That  was his answer. Once more without turning around, without giving you  any sense that you mattered in any way…or that he even remembered your  plans.

“R…R-Really?” You spoke once more, the clicking became  faster. “No…villain here or a-an anomaly in in the multiverse? Any  special missions?” You chuckled, a bit nervously.

“Nope. Nada de nada.” His voice was…neutral. Almost empty. And that…kind of bothered you. If there was really where no pressing matters, then why did he…?

“…Miguel-“

“Just  get to the point, will you? I’m very busy.” He snapped, glaring at your  direction once more, only for his spiderweb to be shot in your  direction, wrapping around the pen, and snapping it right out of your  hand. “…that’s getting annoying.” He hissed. And now you didn’t know if  to be pissed, scared, or just leave the room altogether and come back  once he was in a better mood. You took a beat to answer, a frown  decorating your features before looking away, hugging the clipboard  against your body for a moment before sighing.

“…you didn’t go to our date.”

You started, almost a bit shy, feeling perhaps just a little silly as you looked down. You awaited his answers anxiously.

“…date?” He asked. “I never agreed to a date. Just dinner.”

Your  heart almost snapped in half at that, eyes going wide as you looked up  to the large figure in front of the monitors, The light from them was  hitting him from behind, making it harder to see his features. It didn’t  help that he was wearing the spider suit which surrounded him in a dark  color as well.

“…what-?”

“I agreed to dinner, and then forgot. Its not my fault if you believed there was something else going on between us two.”

Your  eyes went wide at that. Why would he-?! Okay, yeah, maybe you did jump  to conclusions thinking it was a date but that didn’t justify his  actions!

“I-I’m sorry, you forgot?” You hissed out. Anger started  to replace the sadness that had taken a hold of you after being ghosted  like that. “I sent you like five messages! How did you not see them-?!”

“I saw them.”

Miguel’s  voice was darker and sultrier than usual. He took a careful step  towards you, a glare on his eyes as his large body loomed over you, the  red from his eyes before more intense as you felt the heat radiate from  his body as he cornered you against the desk, the back of your knees  hitting the cold metal and making you want to shrink into yourself at t  proximity. His hands came down hard on the metal, making a sound that  echoed around the room, followed by the cup of coffee to fall to the  ground. Your heart5 threatened to come out of your chest as your eyes  went from the spilled cup to Miguel’s. Normally, the closeness would  make you want to jump at his bones, but this…you were he would just  forget and then not have the decency of apologizing; you were also ever  so slightly scared over his reactions. Why was he acting like this  suddenly.

“I forgot about our little outing. And from what you just said, I’m glad I did. We crossed a line.”

The man’s eyes burned into yours, and you simply couldn’t get a single word out.

“You  shouldn’t have thought this was anything else. From now on, stick to  your job and I’ll stick with mine. No more activities outside of our  actual job. It was a mistake…you were a mistake.”

With that, the  man pulled away from his, leaving the space surrounding you oddly cold  as he went back to his original position, his back once more to you, and  you couldn’t help but be silent for a good moment. Was that…was that  it? You had been sleeping together for months now! He went to you when  in need and held you close, he kissed and touched you like you were his  air on those nights, he went endlessly about needing you and how your  body was so perfect for him, how he needed you! And now he backed out  because he found out you had feelings for him?! Even after everything?!

You  couldn’t help the angry tears that were spilling out of your eyes as  you glared at his back. Your knuckles had turned white with the fire you  were gripping the flipboard. Your eyes burned with both tears and hate,  and you bit down on your lip as hard as you could in order to hold back  any sounds from escaping. After that you refused to let him hear you  cry over him.

“…eres un cabron.” You bark out, moving harshly away from the desk before walking away.

You couldn’t stand being another second in the same room as that man. There was no way you would stay there after he-! After he…

You  made your way to the bathroom. Making sure no one was there before  closing the door harshly as you proceed to let the tears come out, all  the way holding back the sobs as best as you could. The last thing you  needed was to make it obvious to the other spiders that you were sobbing  in the bathroom because of their stupid boss having put you in your  place. He was…he was right, after all.

While he was a complete and  utter asshole about it, the man was right. You had fallen for him, and  it was your fault for making up ideas and thinking there might be a  chance he might just feel the same. It was just sex…and it was clear  that you were expendable to him. Now you had to go back to being nothing  but his secretary and assistant after sharing a bed with the man in  countless occasions. After being the only one that was allowed to take  care of his wounds and see the mask fall ever so slightly once he was  calm and ready to sleep. Now you had to go back to thinking of him as  nothing but your asshole boss. Like he hadn’t meant the world to you  just some days ago. It hurt just how easily he threw you aside…

You  should never have asked him out. You…you were so stupid to think there  was a chance than you could ever mean something to someone like Miguel  O’hara.

The rest of the day went into a blur. He at least had the  decency of not calling you for anything. You didn’t even know what you  had done after that. And the roar of your stomach indicated you had  skipped lunch as well. You were as cordial as possible to the rest of  the spiders that approached you, but not your usual friendly self, not  even with those you were closest to. Barely speaking any words, saying  you were down and felt kind of sick. They didn’t seem to believe you,  but that was okay…you just had to get trough the day. And somehow, you  managed it. You stood inside your apartment, eyes low and lost as you  thought back on the conversation with your…your what, really? You never  got to be anything other than fuck buddies, and even then, that might  be a stretch. You had told yourself you were okay with being his  personal stress relief toy but now that you were thrown away, discarded,  and forgotten just like that…like an actual useless toy, now you  realized weren’t okay with that at all. You had wanted him so badly at  the time you didn’t care if it hurt you, and now you regretted every  decision you had taken ever since that first time as much as Miguel was  probably regretting having slept with you the first time. You felt your chest tighten around you and damn it hurt so badly.

“A  mistake, huh…?” You whispered to yourself, slowly moving away from the  door, and flopping into the couch. “…that one stung the most.”

Your  word was tiny and broke at the end as a new wave of tears hit. You  hated yourself, and you wondered just how in the multiverse you were  going to face him in the next few days. You had to be close to him. But  you were determined to keep it professional and not show the man just  how much he had hurt you. To think the hero of your world could be such  an idiot…

*********

Three weeks. That’s how long it had been  since you had your heart personally ripped out and stepped on by the  hero of your universe. It had been three weeks of avoiding being alone  together in the same room as him, three weeks of barely keeping any  conversation other than him giving you instructions on what to do an you  carrying them out, Three weeks of starring at the mans back from your  place as you wished he would either turn back and devour you like usual,  or at the very least give you one of those not so soft looks he had  reserved only for you. Three weeks on wanting him to talk to you,  apologize for what he said, how you wished he would turn around and ask  for your forgiveness because by God would you take him back in a  heartbeat. Even if he hurt you, you were still infatuated with him. But  then again, it had been three weeks since the man had called you a  mistake, three weeks, since he dared to be anywhere near close to you or  even look at you longer than necessary.

It still hurt badly. But  it seemed you were able to hide it well. Of course, your closest friends  asked you about your mood and the like, but it seemed you were able to  deflect it well enough. Even if you still wanted him badly, it didn’t  mean you were over his hurtful words.

You shook your head slowly.  The background noise of the microwave being an almost relaxing sound as  you looked out your window down to the city. The same window which you  would leave open at night so the man could sneak in if he felt like it…  You simply couldn’t seem to take him out of your head. After a few  seconds, you went back to the microwave the retrieve the popcorn. Some  of them were a little burned, but most were fine. Refusing the dirty a  clean bowl, you grabbed a napkin and returned to the couch before  struggling to find the controller for a few minutes. Once found, you  absentmindly put play on the movie and returned to watching it. That had  been your routine ever since…well. You tried to turn your entire mind  off and focus on the movie playing.

At some point you just zoned  out, simply starring at the vivid colors on the T.V, your hand moving on  autopilot to feed yourself some popcorns, but your mind was entirely  elsewhere. So bad, in fact, that you didn’t even hear your window being  tapped the first three times. It wasn’t until you heard the window being  smashed and the crystal falling onto the wooden floor that your head  snapped to the window, jumping in place, and making your drink spill all  over the couch.  For a moment you noticed absolutely nothing, just the  broken shards falling over the edge of the window and the ones on the  floor. That scene quickly changed as a figure came into view, obscuring  your surroundings as a shadow fell over your head.

Your eyes once  move snapped upwards, the red glow emanating from the person making you  fear for a moment until your mind finally fully processed the scene in  front of you.

“…you locked the window.” Miguel’s voice came through, and you felt rage like no other invaded you.

“…Miguel, what the actual fuck?! Did you smash my window in order to get in-!”

You  were about to keep yelling at him, only for the man to bring a finger  over his lips and shush you, looking slightly over his shoulders.

“…we need to leave. Now.”

He stated. There was no explanation, just an order. And that pissed you the fuck off.

“Oh hell no.” You hissed. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“There  isn’t time for this!” He hissed as well, grabbing your arm harshly and  making you stand up as you glared at him, His hold wasn’t that tight  around your wrist, so you managed to shake it off and walk away from his  looming figure.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! You won’t do this. You  have no right to barge into my fucking apartment like this after  ghosting me on our plans and then discarding me to the side like a  freaking rag doll! What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed at  him.

“Ill explain everything at HQ, but we need to-“

“Miguel!”  Lyla suddenly came into view, the small hologram screamed out his name,  sounding desperate. Almost like a warning. Before you could even  process her appearance, the man shoots a web at you, and another towards  the wall. Just as your body hit against his after you had been pulled  towards him, you heard a loud, thundering noise, followed by a crash and  a whisk of air as he pulled you both on the other web, close to the  wall.

“Mierda…” He hissed, glaring at something or someone in your  apartment. You tried to look back, only for the man to pull you closer  to his chest, holding you there as he proceeded to shoot a web to the  broken window and take you both out of the place as you felt something  starting to charge towards you both. “Team, we need you now.”

His  voice commanded, and as you held onto him for dear life, you managed to  look over his shoulder just in time to see Jess, Ben, Hobbie and some  other spiders charge at the creature that was breaking the walls of your  apartment. His hand around your waist tightened as he swung around the  city as fast as he could. You could feel his tense muscles through the  suit. You didn’t know what the hell had just happened, but even though  you were pissed still at him, the fear was now stronger as you held even  tighter around him.

On a far away building you saw Miles, Gwen  and Peter B. Miguel shouted something to them before they started  swinging in the direction to your apartment. If there were so many  spiders from society then it must be some kind of anomaly. And a strong  one at that.

Once at HQ, picked you up bridal style before going  in his room’s direction. He seemed a bit calmer now, probably since he  knew his team must be handling the anomaly, or by being back safe in the  Headquarters. Whatever was the reason, you weren’t going to ask. You  were still riding down the high of your apartment being broken into,  being almost attacked by an anomaly, then saved by Miguel, swung through  the whole city, and now being sat down on his bed as he locked the door  of his dark room. Making sure to activate the security before taking  his mask off.

“Lyla. How’s the team?” he hissed out. The small  hologram appeared and frowned for a moment, which only earned her a  glare from Miguel before she scoffed.

“Rude as always.” She  stated, before some screens appeared around her. “They seem to be having  a hard time with the anomaly, but they are hanging on.” At that Miguel  sighed, nodding.

“Tell me if things escalate. I’ll go helps, for  now I’ll stay with them.” He stated, glancing at you who were just  managing to calm down your breath before looking at him just as Lyla  disappeared. Miguel slowly approached you, an almost concerned frown on  his face as he kneeled in front of you. Even like that the man was so  tall… “…you, okay?”

His voice…this time it was soft. A tone you  had heard a few times in the last few months but right now it made you  almost melt right in front of him. He sounded almost concerned over  you…the same man that some weeks ago had called you a mistake.

“…I  think so…” You whisper, looking down at your hands for a moment before  looking back at the man, locking your eyes with his. He was…rather  close. “Miguel, what was that? Was that creature after me…?” You  whispered.

Miguel sighed, looking away from you before rubbing the  bridge of his noise, exhaling harshly before giving a half nod and  shrug.

“Something like that. More after me than you.” He whispers,  before sighing at your puzzled expression. “Three weeks ago…the day of  our date.”

He started, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat and also squeeze at the mention of that night.

“There  was a mission. An anomaly made itself know in Universe 362.” He  started. “With the local spiderman and some other spiders we went to  check it out and contain it. But it was far stronger than I anticipated.  There was also the fact it could universe hop. That made it even more  dangerous.”

His eyes narrowed. Just now you had become aware he  had taken one of your hands and was tracing shapeless forms on your hand  with his thumb, making you blush slightly.

“It managed to defeat  us and hope for another universe. Not before leaving his mark on me.  Apparently,” he sighed again, avoiding your eyes still, “the creature  finds which the marked cares for the most. Then it attacks the person.  Once they die, the anomaly feeds onto the sorrow and desire of the  market to see their loved one again. Using that as his energy to hop  into another universe and repeat the process.”

He finished, looking at you slightly, before looking away once more, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We  are still figuring out properly how its powers work. But once it  presented itself into our universe tonight, we had to jump into action  to get it before it could hurt you.”

His eyes lingered on your  palm for a couple of seconds, before looking back at you. You simply  stared at him for a few seconds, processing the information. But there  was something that weighed on your mind more than any of the things he  had just said.

“…you care the most about me?” You whispered,  cheeks burning as a small smile come to your lips, placing your free  hand over his, making the man groan before he looked away.

“…I was  an idiot to you.” He whispered, moving ever so slightly closer. “I was  scared the creature might hurt you, so I tried to distance myself from  you when I should have been keeping you close. I was the one who hurt  you instead…”

Now it was your turn to move closer, some locks of  hair had fallen to the front, framing his face in a way that accentuated  just how handsome the man was, with his jawline and deep eyes, and his  lips…

“…so, I’m not a mistake?” You whisper, leaning even closer now, placing your forehead against his. The mans eyes fluttered closed, and you could feel your heart jump out.

“Never.”

With  that, he finally closed the space between you both, his lips clashing  against yours in an almost romantic kiss as you brought a hand to his  cheek, cupping it and leaning into him even more as the kiss went on.  And on. And on before he finally moved away, breathless, eyes on your  lips as you looked back at him with red cheeks, biting your lower lip  slightly, before the man started to kiss you again.

This time the  kiss was more needy, more passionate, more...him. More what you were  used to when you were suddenly awoken in the middle of the night with  the large man attacking your neck waiting for you to finally wake up and  give yourself to him just like you had done so many times before. Even  then, he still managed to deepen the kiss, which now had turned into  more of an open mouthed one as his tongue explored you fervently. The  hand on his cheek went to his hair, pulling on it slightly before he  groaned, breaking the kiss to attack your neck. Not before pulling on  your lower lip with his teeth. As he went to your neck, you noticed the  tip of his fangs starting to come out, which was then confirmed as you  felt them nick at your skin before he started kissing your neck. Small  gasps and noises started leaving your lips as you moved your head to  give the man more space, willing to give yourself to him in any way he  wanted just like you had so many times before. His lips kept going on  your neck, slowly trailing down before his hand started to grab the hem  of your shirt, easily pulling it over your head. With the momentary  break of the kiss, you were going to take that opportunity to breathe,  only for his desperate lips to come clashing down on you once more as  you gasped against, before melting. At some point your bra had been  discarded and his large thumb was tracing, pressing, rolling, teasing,  and taking care of your breast and nipple as you grunted slightly  against yet another kiss, started to want more and more. Once he felt he  had marked and sucked on your neck enough, he pushed you back into the  bed before climbing next to you.

“Miguel…”

You whispered,  only for his tongue to make contact with your nipple, getting a gasp out  of you. He started to suck on the small bud, making you arch your back  into his mouth before groaning slightly. You could feel him smirking at  your reaction. His fangs slightly caressed the small bud, and the sense  of slightly danger at the idea he might bite them only helped to turn  you on even more, the familiar heat making you push your thighs together  slightly before giving another gasp as the man attacked the other  nipple with his mouth, Teasing the wet one in between his fingers,  making you squirm and call his name once more.

After a few  moments, you felt his hand leaving your nipple and going to your legs,  easily spreading them apart, which made the blush on your cheeks only  grow as you leaned back onto the comfortable bed. It wasn’t long before  the man had taken your pants and underwear off, while he stayed in his  suit, with only his mask off as he is kissing his way down from your  breast to you belly, open mouthed kisses leaving his trail as he kept  going down, until he reached the spot he wanted. Once there, the man  position himself in between your legs, one hand was moving away one of  your legs, while he had licked one of his fingers before slowly moving  it in between your folds, making you squirm at the light sensation where  you wanted to be touched the most.

His eyes never left that area  as he worked his fingers in spreading your lips, before he made contact  with your clit, making you arch your back almost instantly. Before you  had even relaxed back into the bed, he dived right in. His warm, wet,  and soft tongue making you let out a moan as you grabbed onto the  bedsheets, moaning out his name before gasping in need.

His tongue  felt amazing against you like that. Flicking and slowly moving your  clit, giving it his entire attention. Warmth spread all over your body  as his tongue kept tasting you, only for his movements to become faster,  earning a few more moans and gaps as you arched your back once more,  toes curling.

Ah~! Fuck…Miguel…” You moaned, making the man smirk,  his own suit was already quite tight in his crotch area, and after  pondering for a moment he removed it, leaving the man in nothing but his  underwear as his tongue kept working on you. At some point he let your  poor clit rest as he trailed his tongue all the way down to your  entrance before going all the way back to your clit. It made you shudder  and grab onto the sheets harsher. You were starting to get desperate,  wanting him inside of you just oh so badly. “Miguel…” You whispered.

“Soon.”  He answe3red without you even needing to make your petition. You  groaned in response, only to gasp as his tongue pushed into your  entrance, going as deep as he could before attacking your clit for a few  seconds again. Just as you were starting to feel the warmth growing,  you felt one of his large fingers starting to tease your entrance.  Slowly, yet with the confidence of a man that knew exactly what you  liked it, he slipped it inside, making you groan slightly.

You were a bit tense; it had been a while since the last time the man had been inside of you. You would need to get used to him…

Although,  you weren’t sure he would have enough patience for that. Before you had  gotten properly used to the first finger, he started trying to  introduce the second one, making you tense up a but more as your  eyebrows furrowed in pain.

“Hey…relax.” You weren’t sure if he was  asking you to, pleading or commanding you, but his mere voice had such  an effect on you. Specially as his warm eyes starred up at you, while  his breath hit your clit that he had stopped working on just to say that  to you. It made you so weak in the legs you were glad you were laying  down on the bed.

After a few deep breaths, you finally felt his  second finger slide in. The movements started soon afterwards, making  you groan softly, before starting to moan as you got used to his fingers  inside of you again, the slow repetitive movement, accompanied by his  tongue on your clit rendered you a complete mess before you even had  time to process much. His tongue and fingers were making you feel so  good, you felt so needy and wanton that you would have almost begged for  more be it not for the fact you were already on the edge of your  orgasm. And if you assumed correctly, that would be only the first of  the night.

“Miguel~! I-I’m going to-! F-Fuck…”

Once more you  could feel his smirk against you, but the man certainly didn’t stop at  all. His fingers simply went faster as his tongue kept the perfect pace  to make you arch your back as a wave of pleasure and warmth took over  you, making you moan out his name as the orgasm hit you in full power,  toes curling and hands going to his head, pulling on it harshly. You  didn’t let go of his hair until the overwhelming pleasure of the orgasm  left. You had closed your eyes for a few seconds, but feeling both his  hands separate your legs once more made you open them, only to go wide  eyed at the sight in front of you.

Miguel had removed his  underwear. His member was starring right at you, with precum already  oozing out of the tip, a clear sign the man was ready to take you all  the way that night, you felt your walls clench on nothing at the idea of  having his member fill you up like he had done so many times. And  although you had just reached an orgasm, you felt yourself getting even  more turned on. Especially when he placed the tip of his member on your  entrance, before rubbing it on your lips, making you moan. That seemed  to satisfy him, before he placed it back on your entrance.

“…tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

He  whispers, and you only managed to move as you wrapped your legs around  his waist, not even able to intertwine them with simply how big he was.  In all sense of the word…

Slowly, you felt your walls stretching  around him as the man started pushing his member in. You closed your  eyes tightly, taking deep breaths in order to relax your body, before  groaning softly. Miguel watched your face carefully. He was barely  inside of you and his enormous member was already making you feel all  stretched out. Of course, that was the case at all. ‘This is what  happens after three weeks of not taking him’. You think to yourself,  before gasping as he pushed deeper inside.

“Miguel~” Your voice  melted in the end, making the man groan as you felt his hands tighten  harshly around your thighs. He would surely leave a mark. But you didn’t  care about that at all, all you wanted was him. As if on cue, the man  started to push deeper inside of you, making you throw your head back  into the pillow and moan out once more. You couldn’t wait until he was  all the way inside and pounding inside of you. But for now, you were  kind of enjoying it as stretched you out until your body was able to  take him all in inside of you. Miguel, on the other hand, was enjoying  thoroughly just how tight you felt around him, holding him back from  slamming deep inside of you, instead, wanting to ease you into taking  him all in so you would enjoy yourself as well.

But you were certainly already enjoying yourself.

“Fuck!”  You cursed, walls tightening around him as well. The man was a bit more  than halfway inside and it had already made you roll your eyes. Maybe  waiting for a bit before taking him wasn’t such a bad idea…your  neediness was making everything so damn good, even the slight pain as he  pushed even deeper inside of you. You couldn’t wait until his entire  cock was filling you to the brim.

“Sh, sh, sh~” The man shushed,  leaning close to whisper those sounds on your ear, the movement in turn  making him go deeper inside of you, making you melt into the pillows,  eyes closed tightly and a small whine leaving your lips in need as he  nit on your earlobe, before kissing and biting on your neck some more.  “I’m almost all the way in~”

“You…you sound as needy as me.”

You  joked, only to grunt as Miguel pushed himself deeper. Damn it, it was  starting to feel so good. He had you so stretched out and all you wanted  was for him to start moving already but the man refused to do so until  he was all the way in, with his balls touching your bare ass.

“I  am.” Was all; the answer before he took your leaps into a heated kiss.  One which extended for a while. One which he took advantage of before  finally going all the way inside of you. You couldn’t help but break the  kiss with a harsh moan as your back arched again, your hand gripping  his hair for dear life before a small whimper let your lips.

“F-Fuck, Miguel~. S-So good…p-please move.”

You  basically pleaded. You were too desperate to wait and get used to his  size all the way inside of you like that. He would be careful enough  while moving at first, so you’d be used to it either way. You saw no  point in waiting a second more. It seemed like the man agreed with you,  because without saying another word, and with his hands keeping your  legs wrapped around him, he started moving, slow and steady, giving you  time to get used to his entire length deep inside of you before he  pulled out and halfway before pushing inside again. You tensed up around  him, before moaning and relaxing once more. Your hands were wrapped  around his neck, pulling his face close to you, which only seemed to  satisfy him as he smirked, moving once more.

That was so good.  Your body was needy and all you wanted now was for him to get in his  usual rhythm. Which he started building up as he felt you relax around  him, your walls no longer so tight around you as he started to kiss your  neck, lips, face as his hips started thrusting into you.

The  sensation was always magnificent. His hips clashing against yours and  making a lewd sound as you moaned out in pleasure. A personal favorite  of you was when Miguel was into it enough that he started gasping and  letting out small noises of his own, it was just all too damn sexy to  think you could get that reaction out of him. Another moan shook you to  your chore as you felt the man starting to pull out even more before  slamming right back inside. It wasn’t yet all the way out, but he was  getting to that, your legs were laid limply around him, as your hands  and nails dragging on his back as you moaned out his name.

The man  kept moving inside of you, His large member reaching those sweet spots  inside of you as you couldn’t help but arch your back and take him all  in with such fervor.  His slight pants started to become gasps and  almost needy grunts as he pushed deeper inside of you until he finally  fell into the perfect rhythm you both enjoyed so much, With the man  pulling out almost all the way out before pushing himself deep inside of  you, his balls slapping your butt as you moaned out his name with no  shame. His pace growing faster and faster the more the two of you fell  deeper into the desire.

At some point the man pulled a bit away,  his chest no longer hovering over yours, but his hips did not stop for  even half a second. And you were oh so thankful for that. You needed him  so badly, you needed him to fill you up like he had done during those  nights, you missed his scent, his body, his voice, you had missed him so  much even if you thought you should be hating him for his words. And it  seemed like he had missed you, his eyes wouldn’t leave your body, be it  looking at where your bodies connected as he slammed himself deep  inside of you, watching as your breast moved as he penetrated you, or  just starring at your face with lips half parted. Either wishing he  could fuck your lips and mouth later or wanting to kiss you and  swallowing your moans, or, just perhaps, simply admiring how good he was  making you feel as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head.

Every  now and then he would change your positions or something in his  movements. Now that he was more sitting than laying on top of you, the  man had taken it upon himself to spread your legs open even more and  using his thumb to stimulate your clit some more. At this point you were  nothing but a moaning mess, up to the man’s desires just like you had  been ever since that first time, and just like you would be now that you  knew he had feelings for you as well. It made you so happy, and the  fact he was touching you once more only made it even better.

Your  mind was lost in the pleasure as you simply moaned and squirmed a bit,  enjoying the pounding to your genitalia and his hand on your clit. But  that familiar warmth was starting to build again, and based on his  erratic movements, it seemed you were not the only one that was starting  to get close. For a moment, Miguel pulled out of you, just for a second  though, you didn’t even have time to react before the man easily moved  your body like you weighted nothing, putting you on your side, before  grabbing your leg and placing your feet up on his shoulder. Once hand  keeping tat leg in place while the other guided his member deep inside  of you once more. It didn’t take long before he started pounding  desperately inside of you, his other hand quickly going to your clit  once more and you relished into the overwhelming pleasure that his  member and body were giving you. In that position you could feel him  hitting all the good spots, and you had long lost your mind as you  simply moaned his name and called out to him. One hand on his bicep as  you used the other to tease your own nipple, which Miguel seemed to like  as his movements became faster. Surely, soon enough, the warm on your  lower area came back, driving you close to the edge once more.

“Yes~!  Nhgg~!! M-Miguel! K-Keep going~!” You moaned, not being able to control  any part of your body anymore, simply allowing all the pleasure to take  over. His movements were the fastest as they could get tonight, and he  was clearly struggling to hold on just a bit longer, so you’d have the  pleasure of hitting your orgasm first. There was sweat over his forehead  and shoulders, which only somehow helped to make him even more  handsome. And it was just so good! His movements and length were able to  pleasure you in ways no one else had and you had no interest in another  person figuring them out anymore.

You were Miguel’s. In and out.

After  a few more movements on his part, you felt yourself being driven over  the edge. Your eyes rolled back, walls tightening around Miguel tightly,  who refused to cease his movements as he fucked you throughout your  orgasm, the wave of pleasure leaving you a mess as you moaned out his  name in a desperate plead. Once it had passed, you still couldn’t help  but moan and whine a bit as his movements had yet to cease, and had, in  fact, become faster. After a few more thrusts, the man let out a harsh  groan, grabbing your thigh harshly as he buried himself as deep as he  could reach inside of you before spreading his seed there.

You  could feel his thick seed filling you up to the brim, making you groan a  bit before you slowly looked at Miguel again. The man had his head low,  and he was panting ever so slightly, before he leaned close and took  your lips into his. As the kiss went on, he slowly pulled out of you,  leaving you feeling almost empty before you groaned slightly, making him  chuckle against the kiss.

Once the kiss ended, the man would drop  beside you, quickly pulling you close to his body and covering you both  with his sheets. Normally, this would not be the end of your  activities, but given that it had been so long since you last had  pleasured each other like that, you were quite happy he had decided to  cuddle instead of going for another round. That could be left for later.  You nuzzled into the man’s strong and wide chest, which he lazily  placed a hand around you, making you sigh happily, your eyes scanning  his face as he slowly closed his eyes, before looking at the ceiling,  then at you.

“…huh” you started, before smirking up at him. “You  called it a date.” You commented, remembering back on his words after he  rescued you. That only earned you a groan from Miguel before he kissed  the top of your head.

“Go to sleep.” He commanded, making you laugh a bit before you hummed.

After  a few seconds, Miguel watch would beep, earning a grunt out of him  before he tapped on it. A screen would pull up, showing Jessica, in the  background one could see Miles and Peter talking, with the anomaly  trapped just beside them.

“We got it. It was hard, but we finally  managed to take it down.” She spoke. It didn’t seem like she could see  either of you two though.

“Great job. Bring him back so we can determine what to do with him.”

With  a hum, Jessica hung up, leaving you both alone once more. You looked at  Miguel’s face once more, your naked body pressed against his, the  warmth of the events just now making you feel just so happy to be  his…and…now you dared to say he was yours as well. Once again, your mind  went back to the conversation before you both started to get heated.  ‘The anomaly searched for who he cared for the most…’

A small smile spread across your lips, before moving up and kissing Miguel’s cheeks.

“…I  love you too.” You whispered, and for the first time since meeting him,  you saw Miguel flush slightly, before he simply kissed your forehead.

“…I know.” He whispered back. And with that, you both allowed sleep to take you, feeling loved in each other’s arms.

Welp, this was it! I know it was a pretty long read, but i hope yall enjoyed it! I dont know this man well enough so im sorry if he reads a bit out of character. I also hope i did justice to my fellow spanish speakers and the spanish parts werent cringe. Hope yall enjoyed it! Please let me know what yall thought!

[margaretoakgrove]

Gift for birthday

Walking the thorny road of your uneasy life, you managed to comprehend one simple yet great mystery of that the appearance of a person frequently can be deceiving and far from always reflect their authentic essence.

You came to this conclusion after on your path you had met many people who were flawlessly beautiful outside but disgustingly ugly on the inside, and also those few ones who behind their brutal exterior, in fact, hid an incredibly gentle soul.

And to your grand happiness your beloved Karl Heisenberg proved to be exactly that same kind of man.

But, unfortunetaly, here in this located in a mountainous region of Eastern Europe remote little village because of his rather formidable looks, rank of being one of the Four Lords of the village lands and unnatural for human beings powers of controlling different metal objects only with his mind Karl was perceived by the local residents as an arrogant and incapable of love or compassion extremely dangerous individual, but only to you Heisenberg opened up his genuinely caring, fun-loving and sensetive nature and all the truth about that cruel and egoistic Mother Miranda forced him to become her obedient servant against his own will, and that already quite for a long time he had been dreaming to be free of the oppression of her barbarous tyranny.

Actually, one needs to say that it was not only one dream which the Lord was seriously intended to turn into reality one day.

Yesterday early in the morning when both of you were sitting at the kitchen table and nicely chatting over a cup of freshly brewed fragnant coffee he honestly confessed to you that at least for once in his entire life he would really like to properly celebrate his own birthday with real presents and a real big birthday cake.

To hear this amazing news from the Lord you were indescribably glad as before in your conversations he had never told you even when his birthday was, and what joy that was for you to find out that it was supposed to be already on the next day!

Determined to make your beloved feel a little bit more happier, you conceived to secretly organize a small pleasant surprise for him by preparing a homemade festive cake and a lovely useful gift, despite the fact that Karl was not going to celebrate his birthday so soon for the simple reason that, as he himself said, he didn't have absolutely any time for entertainments as at the current moment the total elimination of Miranda was the number one goal for him, that is why his tomorrow's birthday Heisenberg planned to spend just like one of his most regular days, hoping at least not to cross paths anywhere with his adopted family, the members of which he had always sincerely dispised.

But all these plans and hopes of the Lord crumbled into dust when at the crack of dawn he was unceremoniously awakened by the unexpected telephone call of Mother Miranda herself. As it turned out, "her highness crazy witch" for some unknown reason decided to arrange an unscheduled family gathering and demanded for her "son" to partake in it along with his siblings and arrive for this to the cave church asap, thereby not leaving him even the slightest chance to normally wash his face, let alone have some breakfast.

Hastily dressed, our birthday man, fiercely cursing Miranda for so brazenly spoiling all his day today, went outside where nature unfriendly greeted him with a massive snowfall accompanied by the powerful gusts of a freezing wind.

"Fucking matches..." He grumbled under his breath, trying to light a cuban cigar with no success. "Always extinguish even from the slightest breeze..."

You volunteered to walk the Lord right to the main factory gates, paying zero attention to all of his insistent protests not to do that in such a cold stormy weather. On his covered with deep scars stubbled cheek you placed a light goodbye kiss, and once the burly figure of your beloved disappeared on the opposite side of the stone bridge you immediately hurried back to the factory in order to get everything what was needed ready for his return...

As Heisenberg suspected this family meeting promised to be unbelievably prolonged, and it seemed to him that it lasted for a whole eternity. For many long hours straight Karl, chewing an unlit cigar, had been sitting on a wide wooden bench inside the cave church and, from time to time heavily sighing and rolling his eyes in irritated manner, listening to the insane dictatorial nonsense of the family head, the poisonous insults of Lady Dimitrescu that she was spitting right in his face, the nasty high-pitched squeal of Donna's creepy porcelain doll and the constant childish whining of Moreau. Not having a single crumb of bread within his stomach since early morning and chilled to the bone, Heisenberg eagerly awaited this freak show to end as soon as possible so that he could come back to the saving walls of his old factory and just forget about this frankly lousy day within your warm comforting embrace.

But to reach his safe refuge the Lord, unfortunately, managed only very late in the evening after he had accomplished to do everything he was strictly ordered to, namely, calmed down the went crazy Lycans in the Stronghold and got rid of the mess in the village workshop. Barely dragging his feet from extreme tiredness, the man, upon entering the bedroom and throwing off his outerwear, with noise flopped down on the shabby leather couch and, closing his eyes, let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he was home.

"Karl? You back?" Your quiet voice delicately interrupted your beloved's welcome respite, making him to open his eyes again, and having noticed your presence in the doorway of the bedroom, he couldn't help but slightly smile.

"Yes, princess. I'm back."

"It's pretty late. You must be very tired and hungry. Let's go to the kitchen! I've made a dinner for us."

"Sounds perfect." And with these words Heisenberg slowly stood up and trudged after you in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hey, what's this?" Karl whistled in surprise, motioning his head towards the kitchen table in the center of which adorned a deliciously smelling fresh apple cake surrounded by many plates with his especially favorite dishes.

"Um, Karl..." From overwhelming excitement all that tremendous speech which you had been composing since the previous day specially for this occasion in a blink evaporated from your memory. "I just...I just wanted to say...um... Here! Happy birthday, darling! Please accept this humble gift from me to you!"

The gaze of the Lord fell on a laying within your palms silver lighter with the engraved on it image of a beautiful steed, which you had bought from the Duke for a rather hefty sum.

"I noticed that you always light cigars with matches, but it seemed to me that for you they are not very comfortable in using. And then i thought maybe a lighter would be more helpful in this case, so..."

From your trembling hands the man took the lighter extremely carefully as if it was made not of metal but of fragile glass.

"All right, sweetheart...You...huh...You cooked all this food, baked this cake, spent your money on this obviously damn expensive thing, and what do you want to tell me? Do you want to tell me that you did all of this...for me?"

"Well...Well yes! Yes, that's right!"

Judjing by his puzzled facial expression, it was safe to say your beloved was truly shocked by everything what's happening right now, and it was no wonder because absolutely nobody in his entire life had ever done even something similar for him.

"So...Why are we still standing? The food is getting cold! Come on! Let's take a sit at the table!"

The blizzard, which had been furiously raging outside throughout the day, little by little, had begun to abate, and out of the snow gloomy clouds appeared the large silvery moon whose tranquil light unobtrusively penetrated through a small window into the kitchen where Heisenberg and you were enjoying the festive meal in each other's company. At your request, Karl told you how the family gathering went, but instead of narrating you about this extremely unpleasant event in a negative way, he started cracking shameless yet hilarious jokes about his hateful siblings, and your contagious laughter, caused by these jokes, after all those disgusting nasties that he had to hear today out acted like a healing balm to his soul.

Suddenly, Gymnopedie No.1 by Erik Satie smoothly played on the radio, and to your mind came a wonderful idea.

"May i have this dance, my Lord?" Playfully smiling, you politely held out the man your hand.

"Sure!" Not even thinking, Heisenberg immediately accepted your invitation to dance. "But i consider it my duty to warn you that i can't dance at all."

"Me too! So i am deeply apologizing in advance for accidentally stepping on your feet a huge number of times!"

In the dimly illuminated by a couple of oil lanterns kitchen both of you were slightly swaying in a slow dance to the soothing sounds of the marvelous melody in each other's arms. Placing his rough hand on your waist, Karl was gradually pulling you closer and closer to his wide sturdy chest, and when you rested your head on his strong shoulder he a bit nuzzled your soft silky hair, inhaling with pleasure its subtle delightful scent.

Fully immersed in the relaxing atmosphere of calmness, at least for tonight the Lord entirely forgot about all of his pressing daily problems the thoughts of which permanently created disorderly chaos in his head, and at this divine moment of complete peacefulness it seemed to him as if in the whole entire world existed only you and only him, silently dancing in this cozy semi-darkness.

After a few short minutes, silence that followed the melted in the air music softly stopped the slow romantic dance of yours, and then you looked up at your beloved just in order to catch him looking back at you with a gaze filled with nothing other than tenderness and adoration.

"I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done for me tonight." Carefully Heisenberg tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Thank me? But...But you shouldn't thank me. I...I haven't really done anything special..." This affectionate gesture in combination with the low tone of his raspy voice made you unavoidably redden like a ripe juicy strawberry. "You deserve this, Karl. You do truly deserve this. You deserve all of this and even more. And if i only could give you this more, believe me, i would gladly do that for you, not awaiting from you anything in exchange because... because i love you too much...that's all..."

"My Buttercup...My kind little Buttercup..." And Karl, upon cupping your face with his hands as gently as he could, placed a kiss on your lips, in sweetness to which, in your opinion, even candied honey could not be compared. You didn't break this adorable kiss to ask the Lord what happened when you noticed a crystal-clear tear rolling down his cheek because for you everything was understandable enough without any words: probably for the first time in his entire life your beloved now was quietly crying with genuine happiness, and from the realization that you managed to fulfill one of the cherished dreams of his you yourself became even more happier than you had already been...

This peaceful night before going to bed Heisenberg decided to go outside in order to have a smoke. With the help of his new lighter Karl easily lighten up a cuban cigar on the very first attempt and contentedly took several deep puffs.

Leisurely savoring the bitter taste of the tobacco smoke, simultaneously the Lord was gazing at the dark nocturnal sky strewn with millions of bright sparkling stars just when one of them at lightning speed was leaving its abode once and for all, and, without hesitation, he quickly made a birthday wish.

It is not difficult to guess what kind of wish your beloved made because more than anything else he truly wished to be with you forever no matter what as for him you doubtelessly were the most priceless gift which he was so lucky to receive from the Universe herself, and to her for such a boundless generousity the man was infinitely grateful.

[squadmuse]

GET TO KNOW THEM ALPHABET

THE RAFAEL BARBA EDITION

Accessories: do they wear them and what kind?

Rafael wears a few different accessories. He has his tie clips, his suspenders, watch and pocket squares.

Bad habits: do they have any?

Rafael is a workaholic and he is closed off at first so takes a while to open up fully.

Clothing: what's their style and what do they wear at home/out and about?

Rafael wears full three piece suits for work, but is still quite formal when off duty and likes a nice suit with a slightly unbuttoned shirt. He does like sweaters and scarves. Rafael is meticulous about wearing outfits that complement each part.

Date: what would their ideal first date look like? Do they enjoy datenights when in a relationship?

Rafael will wine and dine you at a high end restaurant and perhaps take you to a Broadway show or art gallery, perhaps even dancing afterwards. He enjoys date nights with you and makes sure to spoil you as he feels guilty about his long hours at work.

Emotional: are they an emotional person?

Rafael is an emotional person but doesn’t show it until he feels truly comfortable with someone. He’s an insecure guy who has his trust broken and just feels so much.

Fears: what are they afraid of?

Rafael fears losing you or his mami. He hated losing his abuelita and seeing himself age triggers his worries about leaving you in years to come. He also has some fears about becoming a dad due to how his own treated him and his mami.

Gifts: what makes them happy?

Rafael loves being spoiled. He loves when you cook for him or drop by at the office to see him, as you drag him out of the drudgery of his caseload. He enjoys music and loves getting to spend an evening dancing with you.

Helpful: do they help others, or are they rather selfish?

Rafael isn’t that selfish. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts or caseload that he doesn’t pay the usual amount of attention to you, but at heart is he a good guy with a heart of gold. But if you double cross or hurt him then he will not.

Insecure: do they have any insecurities?

Again, Rafael struggles as he becomes more and more older. There isn’t a large age gap between you both but he feels you’re aging so beautifully and not at the same time while he is greying at a high speed. He hates that he found you later in life. But Rafael also has insecurities about himself; he’s just a kid from The Bronx who got to Harvard through working his ass off and he worries he’s never good enough.

Jealous: are they of jealous nature?

Rafael does struggle with jealousy over you. But it is rooted in his own insecurities having had his heart broken before.

Kitchen: can they cook? Do they have a signature dish?

Rafael enjoys cooking some Cuban dishes that he was taught by his mami and abuelita, but he doesn’t have much time usually to do so. He cooks a nice tortilla de patatas and arroz con pollo.

Laugh: what makes them laugh?

Rafael likes a good comedy theatre on the weekend or date night with you. He also loves it when you’re quick witted and snarky.

Morning routine: what are they like in the morning?

Rafael wakes up and groggily makes his way to the shower after getting home late or working into the night in his study. You’ll whip up a cup of really good strong coffee for him which he accepts as if the Holy Grail itself. If he’s not working that day then Rafael will happily sleep in, cuddled up to you.

Night routine: how do they unwind before going to bed?

Rafael has his scotch. He has a little bit before retiring to bed, where you are waiting with a book. Sometimes you’ll narrate whatever book you’re reading, he loves a good book and your voice is so soothing to him.

Occupy: what does their home look like?

Rafael has a pristine home. He works long hours and if home, usually ends up in his study for a while. He has a few bookcases scattered throughout the home filled with fiction and nonfiction. He has a really good coffee maker too.

Pet peeve: what are things they absolutely can't stand?

Rafael can’t stand messiness or anyone who doesn’t pull their weight. He also likes professionalism and respect so anything that goes against that, he dislikes.

Quirky: what's their quirky trait?

Rafael colour coordinates his outfits from his socks, ties, pocket square waistcoat and suspenders. His suit has to complement whatever colour he chooses.

Relax: are they easily stressed out or do they go with the flow?

Rafael has a high stress job and has learned to cope and deal with it all. But he does snap out sometimes and hates when he does it to you.

Spontaneous: are they?

Rafael is spontaneous when he has his days off or vacation days. It is then that he can dedicate himself to you and will whisk you away somewhere or make reservations for shows and dinner for you both.

Truthful: how much of the truth do they tell others?

Rafael is closed off at first. He struggles to open himself up and tell you how he truly feels about whatever it bothering him. Once he feels you’re not going to abandon him then Rafael becomes quite open and truthful.

Upset: are they upset easily? And what upsets them?

Rafael hates seeing you cry, and he hates it even more when he is the one to have made you cry.

Vain: how vain are they?

Rafael is quite the fashionable guy and has his hair and beard trimmed perfectly and his outfits pristine. He worries about his ageing body and looks though too.

Work: what kind of job do they have/would they like?

Rafael enjoys his job but he hates the corruption of the law or police detectives and will stand up for ethics and integrity. He’d like to do work within human rights law or civil rights law.

X-factor: do they have a talent for something?

Rafael has a talent for dancing and has a decent singing voice, although he doesn’t show it much.

Yield: how easily do they give in to something/someone?

Rafael is so stubborn. He is extremely unyielding and especially if he knows he is right. That being said, he has a serious soft spot for you, your family together and his mami.

Zealous: what are they enthusiastic and passionate about?

Rafael is passionate about his job, you & your family and his mami, about fashion too. He also loves literature and collects books.

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 4

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

Chapter warnings: mentions of period-typical racism/prejudice/xenophobia

Chapter word count: 4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The next morning, Alba arrived at the Grunauer place to find Otto waiting for her at the front door with a note on his collar, telling her to go to the kitchen. Puzzled, she followed the dog down the corridor. The kitchen was as she'd left it the previous evening, with the dishes drying on the rack, and the curtains and bedding from the master bedroom stuffed into the basket next to the wringer washer—it was a model from well before the war, old but still functional, much to Alba's joy. The only difference was a fresh pot of coffee on the table. A note placed under the pot said, Good morning. Please help yourself to coffee.

Alba smiled to herself. He probably took his coffee black, which was why there wasn't any cream or sugar, but this was a pleasant surprise, a gesture of consideration she hadn't expected from a man who had screamed at her the day before just because she'd left without telling him.

She wasn't angry with him for that, of course. She'd been confused at first, but from his rambling attempt to explain himself, she'd understood. She now knew that Grunauer's prickliness was not due to any ill manners or temperaments, but simply because he had shut himself away for so long, had lived inside his head for so long—perhaps even before he came back from the war—that he no longer knew how to interact with others. Why else would he assume that she'd left her post just because she was gone for an hour? She made it a point not to take his reactions and remarks personally from now on. With time, he would be sure to improve.

She filled the washer with water and detergent and put in a load of curtains and sheets. While they were being washed, she poured herself a cup of coffee. Black would have to do, until she could buy some milk and sugar. Thus refreshed, she began her day.

The day before, between getting familiarized with the house and shopping and cooking, she hadn't been able to clean much outside of the nursery. She'd wanted to do that room first so Grunauer could have a place for himself when she worked downstairs. But now she'd found her system and soon settled into a rhythm, working steadily through the second floor, removing things from shelves and tables and desks, taking down curtains, stripping sheets and pillowcases and cushion covers, and then she swept and scrubbed and polished every surface, before putting everything back. Otto remained at her side, watching her with interest. He'd probably never seen any cleaning in the house and was wondering what she was doing with all those brooms and mops.

She only wished she'd found a system with Grunauer as well. For all her reminder to herself that it was in his nature to be solitary, that he wasn't avoiding her specifically, it was hard not to take it personally when he opened the study's door a crack, only to slam it shut again when he caught a glimpse of her outside. It was almost as if he was afraid of her! His replies to her notes were always polite though, friendly even. It seemed he found it easier to communicate in written form. And he kept out of her way to let her clean the second floor however she wanted, and polished off whatever food she placed outside his door with such good appetite that she couldn't stay offended. 

That evening, upon returning home, Alba stopped by Mr. Olson's store for some sugar and milk, lest she forgot the next morning. Black coffee was fine, but her Cuban heart demanded a café con leche. Claudia was also there, picking up some ingredients for her dinner.

"I heard you're working for Grue—for Grunauer as a housekeeper," Claudia said after they'd exchanged greetings. "How is it?"

Alba groaned inwardly. News always traveled fast in Cypress Grove. "I just started," she said. "It's a big house, but I can manage."

"Well, if anyone can make that house look less like a haunted mansion, I'm sure it's you," Claudia said with a grin. "And how's Grunauer treating you?"

Alba hesitated. She didn't like gossiping, but perhaps Claudia could give her some answers. "I hardly see him," she began. "He seems polite enough. By the way, do you know what he did during the war? I only heard that he was a medic, and that his unit was in France."

"I don't know," replied Claudia. "I could ask Marty, but he was in the Pacific, same as Raf, so I doubt he knows anything." Claudia's voice was casual as she mentioned Raf, but Alba couldn't help but feel a twinge in her heart, as she always did whenever she heard her brother's name.

"I know people say that he tried to be a conscientious objector," Claudia continued, "but he was drafted anyway. That didn't make him and his father very popular around here, I can tell you that. And it certainly didn't help the talk that Dr. Grunauer was a Nazi sympathizer."

"Claudia, you know that was just a nasty rumor!" Alba chided. "Just like how we used to say that he raised snakes and gators in the house."

Claudia shrugged. "They are German, after all."

Alba sighed as she said goodbye to Claudia and headed home. That's the problem with gossip. Everything is "people say this" and "people say that" and the truth becomes so muddled that it is impossible to know what is true and what is hearsay. For Alba's methodical mind, it was doubly frustrating.

Besides, all of her interactions with Grunauer—limited as they were—told her that he was not dangerous. If anything, it was the opposite. Yes, he was irritable and reclusive, but he was also polite and considerate. Perhaps he was hiding some secret, but the more Alba thought about it, the more she became convinced that it was not a sinister one. The war had scarred them all; only the scars ran deeper in some than in others.

By the next morning, Alba had become familiar enough with the Grunauer place to go around to the back of the house instead of entering through the front. The pot of coffee was waiting for her on the stove as usual, but this morning, it was accompanied by a bowl of frangipani flowers. Grunauer must have seen her admiring them while she was hanging up the washing. The washing was there as well—she had left the sheets and curtains on the line to dry when she left, and he must have taken them down, folded them, and placed them on the kitchen table. This, like the coffee, was a small gesture, but it touched her.

Later, as she was walking downstairs after hanging up the curtains in the master bedroom, she saw Grunauer going into the kitchen, and stopped on the landing to let him pass. He must have sensed her, for he looked up. Their eyes met, briefly, just as they had the day she first came to the house. This time, Grunauer gave her a silent nod of gratitude, before continuing on his way. Something about his uneven gait and hunched shoulders went straight to her heart. He seemed to be making himself smaller, to attract less attention, to take up less space. If he was like this in his own home, no wonder he didn't go out. What had made him that way? She didn't know, but from then on, she remembered to walk with a heavier tread to alert him of her presence. She was no longer apprehensive about his reclusiveness; it felt almost relaxing to know he was there in the study, and she didn't have to worry about making small talk or smiling or any of the little annoying things she had to put up with when serving customers at the bakery. And if she ever wanted to talk, there was always Otto, faithfully keeping her company.

At lunch, she placed the food outside the study—that day it was ropa vieja, because she could just chuck the beef into the oven and forget about it—and had her own lunch in the kitchen, then came back later to collect the empty dish as usual. She would have to convince him to eat in the dining room once she got it cleaned, but that would be the problem for another day.

The next day, however, didn't go as smoothly. Alba had finished cleaning the second floor and was moving to the first floor, but she couldn't convince Grunauer to leave the study so she could work on it.

I have the sunroom ready for you, she sent him a note. It's very nice there.

No, came the curt reply. I need my books.

Alba wondered how many books he would need at one time, but she didn't argue the point. You can bring your books with you.

There are a lot of important papers in here, I don't want you messing them up.

She took offense at his lack of faith. Hadn't she put everything back in its place upstairs? So put them away yourself.

The reply came back, in huge, shouty letters, LEAVE THE STUDY ALONE!

Alba shook her head. What was he hiding in there? A secret chamber containing the murdered corpses of his late wives? She knew better than to argue with him when he was in that state, so she went and worked on the other rooms first.

While cleaning the living room, she unearthed a gramophone and a box of records. They were either classical music or swing bands from the 20s and 30s, Victor Young, Shep Fields, Freddy Martin, Ted Fiorito, the Dorsey Brothers, nothing more recent—it seemed that even the music in this house was frozen in the past. Still, Alba was excited. They had a radio back home, but Papi didn't like them bringing it into the bakery, saying it was distracting, and in the evening, he kept it tuned to Spanish-language stations that played nothing but Cuban news, so if she and Beatriz wanted to listen to music, they had to go to their friends' houses.

She flipped through the records and chose one that had the most songs she knew. Then, remembering her grumpy employer, she scribbled, Would you mind if I put on some music? on a piece of paper and pushed it under the door.

The answer took a little longer than usual, and Alba was prepared to be disappointed. Eventually, the note came back. Go ahead, it said under her question. There was some hesitation in the writing, as if he was afraid of looking ridiculous, like a child who had to apologize after a temper tantrum. Alba only grinned. She was learning not to take things personally with him.

She wiped down the gramophone and put the record on. Soon, a sweet, melodious sound began to fill the room, transporting her from a crumbling house in the middle of the Florida swamps to a glittering ballroom in the heart of Manhattan. She went on cleaning, losing herself in the music, forgetting everything else.

She was scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain on the floor, singing along to "My Melancholy Baby", when she heard a shuffling behind her. Turning around, she saw Grunauer leaning against the living room door, watching her with an inscrutable expression.

"Mr. Grunauer!" she said, jumping to her feet and raking a self-conscious hand through her hair. Dios mío, she must look a sight. "Is there anything you need? Do you want me to turn the music off?"

"No," he said. His voice was quiet, a little hoarse, out of practice. He cleared his throat. "Actually, I was wondering if—if you could turn it up."

Alba let out a surprised "Oh" before quickly answering, "Of course." Then an idea occurred to her. "Maybe I can bring it into the sunroom for you," she said. "It'll sound nicer in there."

She was ready for him to snap at her again, but he only nodded. "That's fine. I'll just get my books." As he turned away, he said over his shoulder, "I've tidied up the study a bit, so you can clean it now."

Alba watched his receding back, unable to stop a smile from creeping over her lips. So that was it. He'd simply been ashamed of the mess. The rest of the house he could overlook, but the study was his personal mess. Well, she could certainly understand that. Mami always used to insist on cleaning their already spotless apartment before company came.

While Grunauer limped into the sunroom, leaning on his cane with one arm and carrying a stack of his books under the other, she followed with the gramophone and the records. As he sat down, one of the books clattered out of his arm and fell on the floor. Alba picked it up.

"Sk-iller," she read the name on the front.

"It's Schiller," corrected Grunauer. "Friedrich von Schiller."

"What is it?"

"Poetry."

Alba flipped through the book. "It's all in... German?"

"Yes. He was one of Germany's most famous poets."

"You know German?"

"It's a surprisingly poetic language," replied Grunauer. "Perhaps not as romantic as French or Italian, but it has its beauty. My parents were German," he added, by way of explanation. Alba remembered what Claudia had said about Dr. Grunauer being a Nazi sympathizer. She made no mention of it.

"I'm not much for poetry, I'm afraid," she said, handing him the book. "The only poet I know is Jose Marti. There's a statue of him in the square in our hometown of Cienfuegos." She knew she should get back to work, but this was the longest conversation they ever had, and the first one that wasn't about cleaning or cooking or grocery, and she didn't want it to end yet. Impulsively, she started reciting one of Jose Marti's poems. "Cultivo una rosa blanca, en julio como en enero, para el amigo sincere, que me da su mano franca. Y para el cruel que me arranca, el corazón con que vivo, cardo ni ortiga cultivo: cultivo la rosa blanca."

Grunauer listened with his head tilted. "That sounds nice," he said once she'd finished. "What does it mean?"

"Oh, something like, I grow a white rose, in July as in January, for the sincere friend who gives me his frank hand. And for the cruel ones who tear out the heart which I live by, I grow neither thorn nor thistle: I grow a white rose."

A glimmer of a smile appeared on Grunauer's lips. "I think you're wrong, Miss Reyes."

Her eyebrows went up. "Wrong? Wrong about what?"

"You do have poetry in you," he said. "How else could you have translated that poem so beautifully?"

She beamed at him, surprised at his friendly tone. Then, suddenly feeling shy, she muttered some excuse and went back into the house.

***

Thursday went by. On Friday morning, Alba's hands were shaking a little as she pulled her bike to a stop in the Grunauer backyard. It was the last day of her trial run, and she would have to ask Grunauer if he would like her to work for him long-term or not. Though he had been more welcoming toward her in the past two days, he may decide that he had no further need of her, now that the house was neat and clean again. Alba knew how much work was left still to be done—there were still the yards, a shed or garage by the side of the house, and the rambling, overgrown garden—and how much work it would take every day to maintain a house like this. Perhaps she could convince Grunauer somehow. She did not want to return to the bakery.

The kitchen was cold and empty when she came in. There was no coffee waiting on the stove, and the frangipani flowers in the bowl were wilted and brown, not having been replenished with fresh ones. Alba's heart skipped a beat. Had something happened to Grunauer? And where was Otto?

She dropped her things on the kitchen table and hurried down the corridor. A whine from the study answered her second question. When she opened the door, Otto ran out, nearly knocking her down in his eagerness to greet her. The study behind him was empty.

Alba continued into the hall, calling for Grunauer as she went. Then she got her answer. The front door was open, and through it, she could see Grunauer with a long-handled brush, furiously scrubbing one of the columns that held up the porch. A bucket of soapy water was on the step next to him.

Puzzled but relieved, Alba went out to the porch. "Good morning," she said.

Grunauer was so intent on his task that he didn't notice her. At the sound of her voice, he jumped and dropped the brush. Alba quickly picked it up.

"If the porch needs cleaning, just tell me," she said. "You don't have to—" Her eyes took in the porch, and she fell silent.  

Red paint was splashed across the front steps. If it hadn't been for the vivid, artificial color, like that of a maraschino cherry, she would've thought it was blood. The word KILLER was scrawled on one of the columns flanking the front door, and on the opposite column was a swastika, both painted in the same vivid red. Someone had tried to break the glass at the windows and the door as well, but thanks to the wire mesh nailed to the frames to keep out mosquitoes and flies, the glass wasn't broken; only the mesh was damaged.

The sight of the swastika made Alba break out in a cold sweat. "Nuestra Señora Caridad saves us," she whispered. "Who would do such a thing?"

"The same bastard who put a steak filled with rat poison pellets on the lawn," replied Grunauer. Alba stared at him, aghast. He nodded grimly. "It's a good thing Otto is so spoiled that he never eats anything off the ground, but I'm going to have to keep a close eye on him from now on." Alba turned to Otto, who seemed to sense the seriousness of the situation as well and was looking quite subdued.

"Why would they do something like this?" she asked.

Grunauer took the brush from her and went back to scrubbing. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me and my father. Didn't you use to go here on Halloween to see if you could get a glimpse of his reptile collection, like all the kids in Cypress Grove? Didn't you use to call him Gruesome Grunauer? This is just more of the same. Some stupid kids on a dare, I suppose."

Alba ignored his barbed remarks about their childish pranks. "If they tried to poison Otto, then this was no dare," she said. "It's serious. I think you should call the police."

"The police?" he scoffed. "What can they do?" He looked at her and seemed to make an effort to pull himself together. "Look, this is none of your business, OK? Just stay out of it."

"But if you have nothing to hide—"

"Who says I have anything to hide?"

"I didn't mean that," Alba said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I only meant it would be a good idea to talk to the police, to get some sort of record."

"Thank you, Miss Reyes," he snapped. "If I'd wanted your advice, I would've asked."

She did her best to swallow her anger at his dismissive tone and turned her attention to the graffiti. "Rather an unoriginal accusation, though, isn't it?" she said, trying to make light of the situation. "You went to war. Everybody killed."

His face darkened—from fear or anger, she did not know. The brush stopped moving. "What did you mean by that?" he asked in a low, deadly voice.

Taken aback by his reaction, she shrugged. "I didn't mean anything."

"Then why did you say that? How did you know that they were referring to the war?"

"Oh, I just thought, with the swastika, you know..."

"No, I don't know."

He was breathing hard now, as if he was on the verge of exploding. Alba realized she'd misspoken, but couldn't think of anything that might have set him off. "I'm sorry," she said soothingly. "I didn't mean to snoop." She tried to reach for the brush. "Here, let me help—"

He jerked the brush away. "And if I did kill someone, what of it?" he snarled. "Are you going to stop coming here? Is your family going to find a new place to rent?"

Alba was at a loss. She couldn't understand where all this was coming from. She only knew that he was angry with her, and she couldn't afford to have him angry with her. "Look, I know what it's like, OK?" she said. "When my family first came here, they called us spics, the kids at school made fun of me for my accent—"

"And you think that's comparable to being called a killer and a Nazi?" He jabbed his brush at the columns.

"No! I'm just saying that I know what it's like to have people turn their backs on you—"

"No, you don't. You're just a naïve girl, a stupid gossip, like the rest of them." His words lashed at her like a whip. "You don't know anything!" He threw the brush down the steps, picked up his cane, and stormed off down the drive, toward the swamp.

Alba stood stock-still for a moment, white-hot anger bubbling up in her stomach like lava from a fresh volcanic eruption. How dare he call her stupid! What a high-and-mighty, insufferable, self-righteous... pendejo! She picked up the brush and threw it after him, but he had gone too far away to notice.

Otto padded softly over to her and pushed his nose under her hand. In an instant, her anger faded as she leaned down to scratch his ears. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not angry at you, I'm only angry at him. I can never be angry at you."

What could she do now? It was highly unlikely that Grunauer was going to let her come back, so she might as well leave. On the other hand, she hated leaving a job unfinished. With a sigh, she picked up the brush and started scrubbing at the graffiti.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Alba put the brush down and admitted defeat. She'd gotten most of the graffiti, but she'd taken off plenty of the white paint on the columns too. Oh well. They could use a paint job anyway.

Grunauer still hadn't come back. Alba told herself that she didn't care if he got eaten by an alligator or drowned in the swamp, but the truth was that she was worried. The sun was relentless, scorching on the back of her neck and her bare arms; it might be a little cooler in the swamp but not by much. It couldn't be good for him to be trampling through the swamp in this heat, especially with his bad leg.

She went into the kitchen for a drink of water. Otto was here, having retreated to the cool interior to escape the heat on the front porch. He looked at her sorrowfully.

"All right, all right," she mumbled, her resolve to stay angry at Grunauer crumbling before the dog's imploring eyes. "Come on." She beckoned to Otto. "Let's go look for your master."

Chapter 5

A/N: I listened to a lot of big bands and swing music while writing this, and when I came across "My Melancholy Baby" (this version in particular, sung by Ella Fitzgerald), I knew I had to include it. I mean, check out the lyrics:

Come to me, my melancholy baby Cuddle up and don't be blue All your fears are foolish fancy, maybe You know, dear, that I'm in love with you

Every cloud must have a silver lining Wait until the sun shines through So smile, my honey dear While I kiss away each tear Or else I shall be melancholy too

It fits Alba and Derwin so well (even if they don't know it yet!)

Taglist: @kitkat80

[scavengerssuccotash]

Hi! I love your clintasha stuff so much.

Do you have any headcanons for clintasha angst?! I’ve always imagined that with their age gap, nat’s closeness to Steve (in the MCU anyway), Clint’s insecurities and hidden anger streak (as seen in Endgame with Ronin), and the fact that they both have quite dominant personalities, conditions can sometimes be ripe for an argument.

And when they do fight, they fight! Like all the avengers/SHIELD are on edge for days because of the tension. And eventually one of them just gets so upset not having the other there that they will work up the courage to apologize.

Aww! Why thank you so much I’m glad you’re enjoying them!

I picture the fights between Clint and Nat to be a micro equivalent of the Cold War. Well, unlike the Cold War it does get hot! (Pun intended!) Picture the Cuban Missile crisis but make it between two very dominate and very opinionated and highly skilled individuals whose combined capabilities could level any building with a three block radius.

That my friend is what happens when Clint and Nat trade blows. Fortunately for New York and Avengers Tower they’ve managed to reserve their anger to sharp-tongued barbs and egg-shell tense silence. At least while in front of the team…until one or the other cracks and a dish gets thrown.

(Clint threw a coffee cup and missed Natasha obviously, Natasha predictably got offended that he missed on purpose. Steve had to cut in between them, which only redirected their anger onto him much to his supreme confusion.

“Oh wow look at Cap really putting your namesake to use huh? Do you have a list of thirteen points?!”

“Kindly fuck off old man, not every fight needs your fucking help!”

Clint and Nat promptly shared a look. Twenty minutes later everyone heard the ‘kiss and make-up’)

Clint definitely has an anger streak roughly six miles long but he hides it very very well. It took Phil a lot of blood (literally), sweat, and tears to help Clint get a handle on his shit when he first joined SHIELD. While his anger bursts are few and far in between, when they do explode out of him he has at least learned to redirect that anger onto his physical surroundings and be mindful that maybe punching a concrete wall wouldn’t do his shooting hand well. One of the first things Natasha ever gave him was a tennis ball. She picked it up on a whim during a mission because Clint was annoyingly restless, and figuratively bouncing off the walls with energy that he needed to expend but couldn’t because the mission was geared towards her skill set rather than his. He still has it to this day and whenever he feels the tell-tell hotness burning up his spine that comes with a burst of anger he’ll take out the tennis ball and start ricocheting it off the walls. (It drives Tony absolutely fucking nuts.)

Natasha’s anger is far more…precise. Like a surgeon’s scalpel compared to the mini nuke that is Clint’s. She specializes in using silence, passive aggression and careful word choice to express her anger, which inevitably triggers Clint’s mouth because he hates getting ignored. Especially by her. If by the fourth day neither of them crack Clint will start the truce with her favorite meal, a hot drawn bath and a list of apologies. Afterwards they’ll talk it out, between rounds of sex. (Clint’s of the mind that Natasha will just start some if the fights for the make up sex. Natasha only confirms this much later when physically backed into a corner. He really can’t blame her, he’s done it at least once or twice.)

Natasha’s apologies require a lot less forethought. Clint drops whatever argument they’re having at the sight of her bare breasts, along with his pants. This neat trick lasted for ohh about the second big blow out, when Clint afterwards rolled over and demanded that if she was gonna just fuck their problems away they might as well call it quits. “Don’t get me wrong you’ve got great tits and the sex is mind blowing but if great tits and mind blowing sex is all it takes we’ve got bigger problems, Tasha.” In the end they keep the sex, but Natasha makes an effort to truly truly talk it all out, which in returns Clint rewards. Quite enthusiastically.

For the more minor spats, they save those for the training mats, trading punches and ass pinches. By the time that’s all done they’re lying on their backs sweating through their clothes and laughing. They might be dating, but ultimately they’re competitive best friends through and through.

[avictimofthejazz]

💞 (I'd settle for one way for all of our ships & Add brotps) (its go big with asks for go home for me) XDD

Mel/Street

Street willingly puts aside his own hobbies, or things he wants to do in order to support Melody in her own duties as an heiress. He knows she finds a lot of high-end social events and interactions difficult so, barring calls from his work, he always goes with her.

Amy/Face

Even if he has to stay out of sight, Face hovers whenever Amy is doing part of a con job solo—especially ones that involve her making contact with shady guys. He is always ready to intervene the minute anything starts going wrong, or Amy might be in real danger from the creep.

Rose/Murph

Murph finds ways to make Rose laugh. Thanks to Cal and her mother, Rose never laughs nearly as much as a person should—Murph seeks to remedy that every chance he gets.

Bonnie/Michael

During his Foundation travels, Michael is always picking up random gadgets or manuals that he thinks Bonnie might enjoy tinkering with or looking at.

Trudy/BA

Trudy’s car never needs to go into the shop. BA always takes care of anything her car needs, and usually does it before she even realizes it is needed.

Kelly/Murdock

When Kelly can’t make it up to LA to see Murdock, she is constantly sending care packages with homemade goodies, polaroids of the animals in her care, interesting cassettes she has found, books she thinks he will like, and anything else that comes to her mind. She also does not trust the VA to give Murdock his mail, so she sends them to Father O, who either delivers them himself or gets them to Face.

Maggie/Hannibal

Maggie keeps Hannibal on track, whether he wants to be there or not, and is willing to tell him the hard truths that no one else wants to mention to him—this often leads to advice on how to navigate the situations he has been shifting around.

Bonnie/BA

BA never balks at pulling all-nighters, or continuing to work after he has convinced Bonnie she needs to get some rest. Sometimes he convinces her that shiftwork is the best way to get big jobs done.

Ricki/Michael

Michael keeps an eye on the big dates—Ricki’s birthday, the day she lost Raphel etc.—and always makes a point to buy her a drink at least, even if they cannot swing anything bigger.

Elaine/Dennis

Elaine keeps an eye on the elevator in the morning. As soon as she sees Dennis come off, she makes sure there is a fresh cup of coffee on his desk, and a first-aid kit if he needs it.

Gina/Murph

Murph tries to figure out Cuban cooking so he can surprise Gina with familiar foods without having to go to a restaurant. He is still getting it sorted, but his earnestness and the sweet idea behind his attempts has earned him the affection of the Cuban grandmother in the apartment next door.

Jean/Reed

Reed never gets up the courage to break Jean’s heart by telling her he can’t keep choking down her peanut butter-and-banana sandwiches. He just keeps pawning them off on Pete or the other guys at the station, giving them to homeless people he knows, or trading them to Hilda for a different kind of sandwich.

= = = = =

Luca & Street

Street has an uncanny sense of knowing when Luca needs someone to show up at his apartment with a pizza and a six-pack. He does not do it often, and he usually has some excuse about the game being in and his own television being in the shop, but it always seems to be timed to exactly when Luca needs a friend around.

Murdock & Face

Face created information cards for Murdock, carrying important information like his full name, his social security number, his blood type, the medications he is on, and anything else the pilot might need to know, but runs a strong chance of forgetting.

Hannibal & Face

No matter how much trouble Hannibal might cause at the nice clubs and restaurants that Face takes his boss too, it never really occurs to Face to stop inviting Hannibal. It would be as unthinkable as shunning Father O’Malley for the sake of his image.

BA & Face

Despite the obvious differences, it never quite occurs to BA and Face that neither of them really belongs in the other one’s off-duty world. Face still keeps taking BA out to the fancier side of town, and BA still keeps dragging Face into neighborhood issues, and chores for the community centers.

Luca & Face

In high school, Face tutored Luca in math for five cents a session, and some of whatever food or treat Luca’s mother and grandmother had made that week. It was one of the best deals Face cut with anyone at St. Mary’s, but he still stands by his choice and insists that anyone who has had authentic Italian food from an Italian grandmother would understand.

Malloy & Reed

Reed makes a point out of buying tickets to things like boxing matches that he knows Jean doesn’t want to go too. Then he offers one to Pete, using his wife’s indifference as an excuse when, in reality, he does not want Pete spending all his off-hours hanging out at his place alone. It is not good for the older cop.

Amy & Kelly

Kelly starts a long-distance book club with Amy. They pick a book, and either mail their opinions back and forth to each other, or have a phone conversation. Occasionally, they are in the same area. Then they go out to dinner, and talk about the stories.

Bernice & Elaine

When Elaine can get off early, she meets Bernice at the building that the Steele offices are in, and they hit up the bar scene together. They argue that two ladies have a better chance of meeting guys, but it also means they have help if one of the guys proves to be a creep.

Amy & Maggie

If Amy needs to get away from LA for a while, or lay low for any reason, Maggie always has a room she can crash in. Maggie won’t even ask questions, unless Amy wants to talk about the mess she is in—she’ll just give the younger woman a place to get back onto her feet.  

RC3 & BA

Since RC3’s big brother is still in Chicago, and unlikely to move out to California, BA fills that void in RC3’s life the only way he can—mostly by trying to make RC3 make more cautious choices and listen to Devon more the Michael. He also yells RC3’s head off when he learns about the rubber M16 stunt.

Devon & Michael

As much as Michael enjoyed answering his calls “Yo Devon!”, he respected the older man enough to stop doing it when Devon asked him too… at least most of the time.

RC3 & Michael

Michael fuels his good-natured rivalry with RC3 about the LA teams versus the Chicago teams by teasing he younger man, and occasionally doing things to lightly rub in the latest loss on his friend’s side, or jokingly deny any losses on the LA side.

Mena & Face

As long as Face is physically in LA, all Mena has to do is call, and he’ll come help her. He’ll get out of bed, drop dates, and even put business for Hannibal temporarily on the backburner in order to go bail Mena out, and make sure she gets somewhere safe.

Nancy & Face

Face sends Nancy postcards of the various places A-Team missions take him. If he can’t get a postcard, he gets his hands on some other kind of memento, so his cousin knows he is still in one piece.

Elsie & Murph

Despite not being as big an outdoors person as his sister, Murph allows Elsie to drag him out in all kinds of environments, weather, and at all times of the day or night. She just has to ask, and know that his initial grumbling is just for show.

Missy & BA

BA is a constant source of support for Missy, helping her develop all kinds of non-feminine skills such as mastering baseball, being able to fix her car, and throwing a mean right hook. He wants her to realize she is worth more than her fashion choices, or which boys are looking at her.

Missy & Face

Face has no qualms lying to Mary Cooper about Missy, covering up all kinds of messes that Missy gets herself into. He gives Missy advice and space to find her own answers, but he won’t hand her over to be yelled at by her mom when he is convinced most of Missy’s bad choices are rooted in her parents dysfunctional relationship, and its ripple effects on the kids.

[thewcllingtons]

❣️ + gideon & cat

SEND ME ❣️ + A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…     [   VOL. 2   ] 

Who is the little spoon? Cat for sure. I think Gideon is too big for her to cuddle, but he probably would fall asleep on her chest sometimes

Who sings in the shower? Catalina probably does but it’d be a very rare circumstance for her

Who plays pranks on the other? I could see Gideon pulling a prank to try and make her laugh, but they’re both sort of serious so it’s probably more on the rare side

Who is the one who listens to pop music? Pop music probably not but I could see them both listening to other stuff

Who brings the other a random cup of joe? I feel like they would both do it? I think moreso Gideon because Cat likes coffee for dessert, it’s the Cuban in her lol

Who picks the cheesy movies for date night? I don’t think either of them really sit to watch a movie. I think they’d probably do something more like read, maybe dance a bit or talk about stuff. Their version of relaxing is a lot different than most. It’s not based in media other than maybe the rare movie here or there

Who is more likely to feed the other in public? They haven’t gotten there, but I think Cat would feed Gideon. She loves cooking and stuff, so I’m sure she’d regularly bring stuff to him for meetings and stuff when they get closer in that department

Who gives the other random little compliments? Gideon is always flirting with her so definitely him. Cat hates to feed his ego even though she thinks he’s super dreamy

Who is always stealing food from the other’s plate?

Who is more likely to let the other borrow their car? I think they both would if needed, but I’m positive they both have a collection of cars they’d personally like to drive when they’re driving. It’s common for them to be driven around to meetings in town cars with bodyguard/their crew so I doubt they drive for anything more than luxury or to go to events alone

Who makes the list before they go grocery shopping? Both, but I doubt they have time to really buy groceries when they both travel frequently

Who makes sure the other takes their meds when sick?  Cat because I’m sure he likes to act invincible if he were to get sick and she’d make sure he slows it down and gets better

Who watches sports and has to teach the other the rules? Neither because I feel like they both know it fairly well because of business. Sports is definitely for leisure, but monitored because of betting/gambling

Who pulls the other to their feet for a dance in the living room? Gideon definitely does it a lot considering he knows her little secret about how much she loves to dance haha

Who has to keep reminding the other to hurry or they’ll be late? They’re not the type to show up late to anything important

Who is the one most likely to get a tattoo with the other’s name? I don’t think either would do that and it’s nothing personal 

[crystalpower]

✨ @rootworkin asked: ( meme. )

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

🥞 usually what he makes for himself on saturday mornings... this is the spread. it’s thai, of course...

joke, which is p similar to congee ... rice boiled until it dissolves, and forms a thick porridge that’s almost the consistency of instant oatmeal... he doesn't really load it up w. much... just a lot of habanero pepper slices and some maggi sauce. might slice up a liiiiittle ginger up in it. he slaps a cracked egg on it too. gai yang... grilled chicken, essentially!!! he cooks that shit up pipin’ hot. patongo / a donut but not horribly sweet like the american variety. and shaped more like a strip.

and a cup of coffee... black. nothing added whatsoever. strongly brewed and bitter shit, that’s what he likes!!

🍩 big fan of cool types of chocolate... his favorite chocolate is sold at a little store down the street from his penthouse and it's a super dark chocolate with tumeric and ginger. usually eats his chocolate with a handful of pisachios on the side. his other two favorites are sankaya, which is a thai pumpkin custard. and arroz con leche!

also there’s a place in the city that serves a pineapple-jalapeno icecream and he loves that shit.

🍟 he prefers to cook his own food, but he likes trying what’s around too... his go-tos are cuban food like ropa vieja. somali food, indian food jamaican food, korean. thai, chinese. he’ll try anything and everything! taco bell and burger king if he’s having a bad day. he has a lot of bad days so find him at ya local taco bell, ordering a beefy five layer with a baja blast. anyway he loves trying new foods so if a restaurant opens up, he’s ordering something. he does cook for himself, too. prefers it that way. virote’s the only person who can cook food spicy enough for his palate.

vi’s love for spice is like no other. it’s enough to make other people end up in the hospital.

[keywestlou]

U.S. SOCCER WRITER GRANT WAHL DIED OF AN AORTIC ANEURYSM

U.S. SOCCER WRITER GRANT WAHL DIED OF AN AORTIC ANEURYSM - https://keywestlou.com/u-s-soccer-writer-grant-wahl-died-of-an-aortic-aneurysm/U.S. Soccer Writer Grant Wahl died of an aortic aneurysm at the World Cup. His body was returned to New York where an autopsy was performed which determined the cause of death. A doctor advised, "No amount of CPR or shock would have saved him." The doctor assured there was nothing "nefarious" about his death. I have an aortic aneurysm. Diagnosed 20 years ago. Non-operable. Recently the problem can be successfully operated on in certain patients. I am not one. My age is against it. I can't win. The problem has never concerned me. I give it no thought. If and when the aneurysm pops, I'll be dead immediately. No pain, no suffering. Tweets are taking a beating today. Properly so. However one appeared recently concerning Key West which is honest. For that reason alone acceptable: "The harbor walk around the Key West Historic Seaport.....is one of the most picturesque walks in Key West - and a great freebie!" Went out to lunch yesterday. The Cuban Coffee Queen. Met an interesting young lady from Atlanta. Late 20's. Lovely. She is vacationing alone for a week. First time in Key West. Enjoying herself. I asked why such a lovely and charming person such as she was would be alone. She said she was not keeping company and had no one to travel with. She needed and wanted a vacation, so she was made the trip alone. I admire her. I hate traveling alone. That is why I have not traveled in recent years. Last night, I enjoyed Jean Thornton's Thanksgiving dinner. She had frozen a meal for me and brought it with her from Birmingham. I pigged out on turkey and stuffing. Noon time exciting today. I will be out again. A haircut with Lori. Then lunch somewhere. It has been reported Trump rents a storage unit in West Palm Beach. The question is being asked why. Mar-a-Lago has 58 bedrooms, 33 bathrooms and 3 bomb shelters. Trump announced yesterday he would be making a major announcement tonight. He did not advise time or channel. His announcement was made on his own Truth Social. Respectfully, no, not respectfully, actually, he looked like a first class asshole. Trump tweeted his announcement last night with a a "superhero-themed" video. With "fantastical music" blaring in the the background, he animated in pose as Superman in front of Trump Tower. He ripped his business suit open to reveal a chiseled T-logo body suit and laser like eyes. Followed underneath by : MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT Dec. 15. A bizarre pop video. Totally unpresidential for a former President. David DePape is the man under arrest for having attacked Nancy Pelosi's husband with a hammer. The police announced yesterday that DePape had a "hit list." On it was Tom Hanks. Why Tom Hanks? Enjoy your day!                          

[woateeglobal]

40 Appealing 31st Wedding Anniversary Gifts That Honor Your Big Day

40 Appealing 31st Wedding Anniversary Gifts That Honor Your Big Day

This is one year after the big 30-year milestone. But, for both of you just feel that this special day is just as important as the preceding anniversary. You don’t want to celebrate this day as big as the previous year, so celebrate a small evening party. Invite some chick/bosom buddies to have quality time, and cherish your day. Besides, seeking 31st wedding anniversary gifts sometimes is tricky for you. Be happy and enjoy your day. Woatee will substitute you for doing that. 

Here is a list of 40 commodities for 31st wedding anniversary gifts which is compatible with your day. From intriguing items for your husband, your wife, or even your parents. Let’s scroll down this post and accompany us to explore the most proper present that your recipient will love at first sight.

Appealing 31st Wedding Anniversary Gifts

1. Watch Made of Tree Rings

A fabulous 31st wedding anniversary present for him, what could be more suitable than a unique watch made of a tree ring? This gift for 31 years is certain to be cherished! Each of the 31 annual rings depicts one year of tree life as your romantic relationship.

2. Cuban Link Chain

What could be better than giving your partner a timeless necklace to show off his strength and style? With the word “Amazing Husband-You are the one I bare to my soul, the one who reads all my thoughts. No word could ever suffice to express my love for you. You have given me the best thing in life–your time, your love, and your constant care”, will come straight from your heart.

3. 31-year Anniversary Mug

To start a day with an intriguing 31st wedding anniversary mug, why not?  Plus, imagine one day when your husband takes a sip and bursts out laughing to say that “What a way to start on 31st year with you”, and you certainly wanna your romantic relationship to last for thousand years.

4. Organic T-Shirt

Well, it seems okay your husband is not one to care too much about dressing up. So, this Organic T-Shirt will be his 31st wedding anniversary present. Your husband can comfortably wear it when participating in outdoor activities such as going camping, or going fishing, just combine it with a pair of jeans and a pair of sneakers, he already looks very stylish.

5. Star Map Engraved Watch

If your husband is a big fan of watches, he’ll adore this star map engraved watch, which is made from glass and stainless steel and features unique stars and constellations settlement, from any date and location of your husband. We are sure that you will regret purchasing this 31st wedding anniversary gift.

6. Happy 31st Anniversary Personalized Canvas Gift

Add your name and the date of your wedding to this 31st wedding anniversary present. Been married 31 years or been together for 372 months, 1.617 weeks, 11.322 days, and so on. Count the time both of you enjoy your own company sometimes is fantastic.

7. Anniversary Mug for Men

“You’ve been a great husband for 31 years. Maybe one of the best ever. Very special. Very handsome. Really terrific. Everyone agrees. Believe me”-that is what all you can express on the front of this fashionable black mug to your husband. Let your partner appreciate this mug in every coffee or tea cup in the morning. 

8. Wood Watch

Alternatively, this road map engraved wood watch is an excellent 31st wedding anniversary gift for your husband if he prefers a wooden bracelet. This is a high-end luxury watch with your custom address that your hubby would be happy to possess it.

9. Charm Keyrings In Gift Bag

A great present to remind your hubby that you are always standing by him. It is hard to remember the place where your husband put his key. Thanks to this charm keyring, he could find the key easily.

10. Coin Cufflinks

A timeless pair of coin cufflinks made from five pence coins. Perfect 31st wedding anniversary gift for your husband to commemorate your milestone that he’ll cherish this gift. Just bear in mind that these coin cufflinks are easy to use.

11. 31 Years Tumbler

Bring a smile to your husband’s face with this funny amazing tumbler which features double-wall vacuum insulation with a clear lid for 2x cold and heat. Suitable for your hubby to place in the car and taste the drink during his travel.

12. 31st Anniversary Personalized Canvas Gift

Be said from those who are deeply in love: “Love is a timeless treasure to value more each year, a wealth of golden memories…life’s cherished souvenir”. If you are seeking a one-of-a-kind 31st wedding anniversary present for him, no further than this 31 years together-31st anniversary personalized canvas gift.

13. Camping Knife

Imagine how much it will be useful and meaningful for you to give your husband a camping knife on your 31st wedding anniversary day. Perfect for going camping, going fishing, your partner will have lots of opportunities to use this knife.

14. 31st Anniversary Shirt

If other girls enter a marriage, after 31 years, these wives seem to become very gentle and calm, but for your wife, when your wife loves and be loved in a marriage, she really shines, living with her true character. What could be better than giving her a gift that depicts this true statement? Therefore, this shirt is totally for her.

15. 3D Printed Lamp

Light up the bedroom for you and your wife with the 3D Printed Lamp Gift. We are sure that these virtual open golden lights will make the bedroom space become romantic. So you and your wife can have a good time on your 31st wedding anniversary night. You can customize your name and the special date such as your big day.

16. 31st Anniversary Mug for Wife

Don’t sweat over the right presents! This mug has printed the funny word “Still tolerating your farts after 31 years making for elegant gifts that description of a person’s uniqueness. Wouldn’t you desire to make that special person burst out with a laugh? Get this mug for your beloved one.

17. Coffee Cup

Your wife is an avid coffee, isn’t she? She needs a cup of coffee to start an energetic and creative day. This coffee mug will satisfy her not only because it’s unique but also make your better half smile from ear to ear. Plus, it’s a high-quality material and durable ceramic with a comfortable C-handle, hence, your wife can use it for years.

18. Happy 31 Years Of Marriage

This 31st wedding anniversary present depicts the time the two of you have spent together for 31 years in days, hours, minutes, seconds, and so on. Add a photo of you and your wife to celebrate this special day, and will make you want to have more wedding anniversaries with your wonderful wife.

19. 31st Wedding Anniversary Gift for Wife

We all know that necklace represents love and any sentiment someone would desire to keep close to their heart. On this 31st wedding anniversary, give your wife this glamour necklace that is made from precious metals and natural gemstones. This necklace is sure to be cherished for years.

20. Necklace for Her

On this 31st wedding anniversary, give your wife a loving gift that will make her heart melt. With its sophisticated design and 14K white gold finish and dangles on the pendant of this necklace, your wife can pair it with fabulous party outfits to capture every look.

Source >>> https://woatee.com/31st-wedding-anniversary-gifts

[projecttreehouse]

fun ideas to get to know your characters

height, age, eye color, etc.—that’s the simple stuff. that’s the bread of the sandwich. the personality is where the toppings come in. show me the spam! the peanut butter! the jelly! maybe not all three at once…

when beginning a novel, you should have a general knowledge of your character and their personality. however, because it’s only a general idea, the character’s voice often doesn’t develop until at least halfway through your novel-writing. here are some non-traditional ideas to help develop a deeper understanding of your character, so that writing them is a little easier:

-shark tank pitch. your character comes up with the next genius product and mark cuban desperately needs to know why he and the other sharks should invest. what’s the product and brand called? what does your character offer to the sharks?

-plan a day-long roadtrip for them! how far could they go from their current location in a day? what are some fun things they would do, see, or eat?

-go to a coffee shop or bar and order their drink of choice

-don’t be board! play a game of the oregon trail (or really any board game) between your characters. what strategies do they use? do they help others or are they only looking out for themselves?

-watch a movie or an episode of a TV show and jot down commentary from the perspective of your character

-your character starts a podcast! who do they start it with? what is the podcast about? draft out the script of their first episode

-hold up your hands! this is a robbery! what does your character do? who’s robbing them?

-dear diary, today was… write a diary entry from the perspective of your pre-teen character’s self

-design a bullet journal page for your character, if that’s their cup of tea. if not, maybe just list out their average, general routine

-adopt, don’t shop! look at your local shelter’s web page and pick out a pet for your character. what does your character name it? what kind of pet parent are they? was this planned or an impulse decision?

-make a water bottle or laptop cover for your character. buy stickers that they would like and decorate something with it!

happy writing! let us know if you try any of these, and reblog if you find this helpful!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Crash Course - Bucky Barnes

a/n: this one? im in LOVE with this fic and im not even ashamed of it. there is just something about the MC helping him get used to living in the new century and im a sucker for it. so please enjoy this fluffy piece!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

masterlist

The time between the morning rush and lunch time is always quiet, the café is almost completely empty, that’s why Bucky prefers to go out during that time, tuck himself away in the corner of the small but cozy place, a black coffee steaming on the wooden table in front of him, his laptop or a book or his phone reserving his attention, whatever he decides to put his energy into that day.

Today has been a rainy day, therefore the morning was a lot quieter than usually, not many likes to make an extra trip for a coffee in the pouring rain, so you’ve been enjoying the calmness, the soft jazz music playing through the speakers as you are putting away the freshly washed cups behind the counter. As if he has an appointment, Bucky walks into the café with a laptop under his arm, his cap hiding part of his face, but you can still see the shy smile on his lips as he closes the door behind him, the little bell chiming for a second time at his arrival.

“Welcome back, the usual?” you ask as he heads to his spot.

“Yes please,” he nods, shooting you a thankful smile.

You try to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the man, it’s almost ridiculous how you still get nervous when you see him, even though he has been showing up every day at the same time for the past about two months. You just can’t help it, there’s just something in those ocean eyes and perfect manner he always treats you with, something you don’t often get these days. Not many take the time to ask about your day or wish you a good one after you hand them their coffee, but Bucky is different. The same question falls from his lips every time you appear at his table with his order.

“How has your day been going?” he asks when you place the cup next to his laptop that’s loading.

“Pretty quiet, the rain keeps people away,” you chuckle, hoping your blush is not as apparent as it feels. “What about yours?”

“Just the same as usual,” he smiles softly and you nod, though you have no idea what’s usual for him. He might be friendly and quite welcoming when he is sitting at the café, he often chats with you about anything and everything, yet still, you know near nothing about him and his life outside of this place. It’s clear he is the kind of person that prefers to keep things to himself, but sometimes you are so desperate for just the smallest crumb of information about him. With the lack of details, you often find yourself making up things about him, like what his favorite dish is, where he likes to shop, what shows he watches on the TV. You might be entirely wrong about all of these, but it’s all you have.

Moving back behind the counter you busy yourself with cleaning it off as Bucky’s attention shifts to the screen in front of him. There are only two more customers in there and they are quite locked away in their own world as well, a college student working on some kind of assignment on her second espresso and an old lady solving Sudoku at the table near the window, sipping on a nice latte.

You can’t help but glance in his direction every now and then as you move the muffins around on the counter. He seems deeply focused, eyebrows knitted together as he is clicking away on the computer. From the looks of it, he is solving some kind of enigma, but when you walk past his table you see that he has an email open on the screen, his cursor moving around kind of aimlessly.

“Not finding the right words?” you ask, stopping to clean the table next to his that was previously occupied by a young couple. His eyes snap up to you before he huffs shaking his head.

“No, I’m just… terribly bad at IT stuff and I’m supposed to “CC” someone on this email,” he explains, using his fingers to air-quote as he glances back at the screen. “But if I’m being honest I don’t even know what it means,” he admits with a nervous chuckle.

You find it amusing, even cute that he is like an old man with these stuff. You’ve seen him struggling to type in a text message before on his flip phone that’s from the last century for sure and now this.

Placing the tray of cups down on the table you move over to him, taking the free chair next to him as you reach for the laptop, but you stop before touching it.

“May I…?”

“Go ahead,” he gestures with a nod.

You turn the device towards yourself as you click a few times, bringing up the option to send a copy of the email to another receiver.

“CC means that more people get the same email. You can put their addresses here. But you can also BCC people, in that case, the original receiver won’t see if the email was sent to others as well,” you explain patiently. Bucky tries his best to focus on the screen and what you’re saying, rather than the way your lips are moving and how badly he wants to taste them.

You haven’t been the only one feeling flustered and like a giddy teenager and Bucky didn’t choose this café as his usual spot for nothing. He spotted you the first time he stumbled in and the way you smiled brightly at everyone and the sweet chiming of your laughter made him want to come back the moment he stepped out that day. So he returned the next day and then the next day again… and now he couldn’t even imagine a day without seeing your eyes light up when he walks in while he can only hope you are just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

You help him send his email and you cheer in victory once it’s done and sent.

“See? It’s not as hard as it seems,” you smile at him gently, patting his arm that’s covered by a hoodie and your eyes fall onto his gloved hands on the tabletop.

“Yeah, I just have a lot of catching up to do from the past seven decades,” he mumbles under his breath, though he immediately regrets not keeping his mouth shut.

Your eyes flicker to his hand once again, then up to meet his gaze and he knows he just outed himself. He is expecting the usual: disgust, disappointment, even fear. That’s how most people react when they find out who he really is. But as he stares back at you, scared like a little kitten, you just smile back at him softly.

It’s not that you haven’t heard of the Avengers, because it’s impossible not to know who they are. You were just not expecting one of them to become a regular at your working place. The few times you saw him on TV he had long hair and his face was covered with a mask, so you’re not surprised you didn’t put the picture together. But knowing now who he is, you don’t see him in a worse lighting. If anything, you feel a little sad that he had to go through so much in his extremely long life.

“Well, feel free to ask any more questions. I’m not an IT guy, but I can help you with everyday stuff,” you tell him and he is in awe at your very normal, very sweet reaction. All he can do is nod as you stand from the table and grab the tray you abandoned not long ago, moving back behind the counter.

When you glance up your gaze meets his as he is still staring at you, nervous, a little anxious, but definitely relieved by your smooth reaction to finding out his identity. You shoot him a bright smile before moving to the table of the old lady who asks for another latte and as Bucky follows your frame move across the room he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips.

Your offer doesn’t stay unused. In fact, Bucky shows up at the café the next few days with a handful of questions for you, genuine ones, and a few he already knows the answer to, but wants to hear you explain them anyway. And you help him with anything, sitting at his table whenever you have a few free minutes between customers. He asks you about the internet, social media, online data bases and sources, going through a list from the little notebook he always keeps with himself.

The times spent with him are your favorite part of the day. You always look forward to whatever issue Bucky is going to bring up, fearing that one day he might run out of questions, but that just never comes. And you don’t know it, but your little sessions are the highlights of his days as well, listening to your smooth voice as you explain even the smallest things to him with so much patience, he is convinced you should become a teacher.

He thinks about asking you out every day, the question is always on the tip of his tongue.

What are you doing tonight? Would you want to go out with me? Do you want to grab a bite with me after your shift?

However he just never gets to actually say the words out loud. He is growing impatient with himself, he used to have no problem with asking girls out, but seven decades and another life as a brain-washed assassin later, this task feels way too impossible.

You’ve been telling him to get a smartphone for the past couple of days and though he seemed adamant, one day he shows up with a brand new one, still in the box.

“Oh my God, is that what I think it is?” you tease him with a dramatic gasp. Chuckling to himself he nods as he places the box to the counter while you are making the order of one of the customers. Today has been a little busier than usually, probably because of the special offer of 10% off from the new Cuban coffee beans your boss ordered in.

“I need a teacher to show me the ropes though.”

“Oh, Bucky, I would love to, but today is a bit crowded,” you pout as you put the lid onto the paper cup and hand it over to the customer, another one already walking in, eyeing the offer written on the black board behind you.

He didn’t even think you wouldn’t say yes, it never occurred to him that the timing might not be the best. You see as his smile slowly disappears from his scruffy face and your heart breaks seeing him like this.

“Yeah, sorry. Don’t want to keep you up,” he mumbles feeling defeated, but before he could grab the box from the counter, you put your hand on it, your fingers brushing against his gloved one, the tiny touch making both of you flustered.

“But how about after work?” you suggest and his eyes immediately light up. Spending time with you without any customers interrupting? That sounds like heaven to him.

“Y-you sure? If you have something to do, I—“

“Nothing to do,” you smile at him. You grab a napkin from the counter and a pan from near the cash register, quickly scribbling down your address before handing it over to him. “I’ll be home by seven,” you inform him as he glances down at your handwriting, noting how well it fits your personality. He then looks back at you nodding, as if he was just handed the best Christmas present ever.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles gratefully before stepping away from the counter and letting you work.

 Five minutes after seven, Bucky is standing at your front door with a bag of Chinese food in his hands as he is trying to build up the courage to ring your doorbell. He found out that you live just a few corners away from the café, so he found your address easily.

“Come on, dude. Don’t be such a loser,” he mumbles to himself as he circles his shoulders before finally pushing the button. A short, buzzing sound is heard from the other side of the door and he stares at the 6B sign in front of you as he hears footsteps from inside. A few moments later the door swings open and there you are, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, a bright smile adorning your face as you beam at your guest.

“Come on in!” you gesture for him as he steps into the small apartment. “Tried to clean up a bit, but if I’m being honest I’m starting to grow out this place,” you chuckle as you push a box out of the way. It’s a small studio apartment with everything cramped into one space except the bathroom. You have a double bed pushed up against the wall in the corner, a small sofa with your wardrobe next to it, a TV, a tiny coffee table, a bookshelf and a dresser, a little dining table near the kitchen with three chairs and a pantry right next to the fridge that stands where the hardwood floor changes into checkered tiles. It really is a tiny space that holds a lot of stuff, but all the gadgets and clutter makes it cozy, lived-in, a place that’s so much like you that he feels like he is peeking inside your head as he walks farther inside.

“I brought dinner,” he shyly holds the bag up as you lock the door.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” you smile at him gratefully, because you didn’t really have time to buy anything on your way home since you had to make a quick trip to the post office after your shift, leaving you no spare time before his arrival.

“It’s the least I can do for all the help,” he smiles as you take the bag from him and bring it to the designated living room area of the place. Bucky joins you on the sofa and he thanks all higher powers your place is so small that you only have a loveseat, giving him the chance to sit close to you. Your thigh brushes against his as you hand him a box and make yourself comfortable as well, starting your feast while he asks you about your day, listening to your every word intently.

When the food is gone and you’ve grabbed two beers for the two of you, he pulls out the phone that’s the reason behind his visit. He bought a simple one, not at all one of the latest versions and it’s going to be the perfect model for him to learn the ropes on.

You help him put his SIM card into the new phone and then you set his account up before finally gaining access to the phone. You start with the basic features, showing him how to make a call or send a text before moving onto the different apps and possibilities while he listens to you as if you were talking about rocket science, but in a way, it feels like that for him.

“And here you can switch to the front camera,” you explain as you push the button and suddenly, the two of you come into picture on the screen. “Perfect for taking selfies,” you add with a chuckle.

“Oh, selfies. I’m not too good with those,” he huffs shaking his head.

“Because you probably haven’t found your angle!” you smirk. “Everyone has a good angle.”

“You think so?” you knits his eyebrows together.

“Mhm, look!”

Opening the contacts you go to yours, choosing the option to add a picture that will show up on the screen when you call him, and open the camera to take one instead of choosing from the empty gallery. Holding up the phone you position it so your good angle is in the picture before snapping the photo and saving it as your caller ID.

“See?” you smile at him before handing the device back to him. He just nods, even though he can only think about how all your angles are perfect to him and that now he has a picture of you in his phone. “Let’s take one together!” you beam and moving closer to him you take the phone once again, holding it up in front of you, trying to fit both of you into the frame.

Bucky tries his best to focus on the picture, but he can’t ignore how close you are to him, he can smell your shampoo and your cheek is almost pressed against his as you smile into the camera. The corners of his mouth curl up as his eyes fix at your reflection on the screen before you snap the photo. Opening up the camera roll you take a better look at it and it’s probably your favorite photo that has ever been taken of you. Mostly because he is in it as well, smiling so sweetly.

“It’s a good one,” you say and as you turn your head to the side you realize how close you really are to him.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, definitely aware of just the few inches separating the two of you.

“I-if you had an Instagram I would tell you to post it…” you stutter as your eyes flicker down to his lips, the urge to lean in and kiss him growing with each passing second.

Feeling a little dizzy, one of your hands fall to his lower arm, the one that’s made out of metal and your gaze drops to where you are touching him, a panic filled look flashing through his eyes.

He thinks that this is where the moment is ruined, where you realize the monster he really is and decide you don’t want anything to do with him. He almost starts to apologize for God knows what reason when you reach out and your fingers start to work on the straps of his gloves. It takes a few moments for him to realize what you are doing, and he tries to pull his hand back, but you grab it stopping him from doing it.

“It’s alright,” you smile at him softly, your eyes meeting his as you finish what you started and pull the glove off his hand revealing the metal underneath the leather. Then you move onto his other hand and do the same, dropping the pair of gloves to the floor as you take both his hands in yours, thumbs running across his knuckles, feeling the difference between his own hand and the artificial one.

You see his jaw flexing at the touch and reaching up you cup his cheek in your palm, making him to look you in the eyes. The strong and confident man you see sometimes is gone now, fear and hesitation taking over his expression as your other hand keeps holding his vibranium one.

“I’m sorry,” it falls from his lips as he closes his eyes for a second.

“For what exactly?” you ask with a soft chuckle. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t have to hide yourself around me.”

“You don’t find it… scary?”

“Not at all,” you assure him. “You can’t be held accountable for what happened to you. Anyone who thinks differently is just an ignorant asshole,” you add grinning and it finally breaks his fearful expression, planting a smile on his handsome face.

Keeping your hand on his cheek you lean closer, your nose touching his but you stop before your lips could meet, giving him the chance to pull back. But he never does. Instead, he closes the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours, finally making the fantasy you both have been daydreaming about reality. He starts off slowly, savoring each other gently, getting accustomed to the feeling, but it doesn’t take long before the kiss grows hungrier and your tongues meet in the middle.

Your hands rest at the base of his neck while his find your waist, pulling you closer until you swing a leg over him, sitting on his lap as you smile against his lips. His kisses feel delicate and soft yet very passionate at the same time, you love the dynamic you create, tugging and biting each other playfully, it feels like kissing him is the sole purpose of your life.

When it gets hard for you to breathe you pull back, eyes opening and finding his flushed face as he stares back at you with bright, joyous eyes, his lips slightly swollen, already making you want to go back to where you were just a moment ago.

“Who knew selfies could be so much fun,” he jokes making you laugh, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sound that’s so dear to him.

“I’m glad you liked my crash course on smart phones,” you grin down at him, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Do you have any more questions?”

Smirking his hand, his flesh one, moves up your back as he presses you closer, your lips almost touching his.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” he chuckles before kissing you again eagerly.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[panphilosopher]

Mirabel: Heeey Lusia, why you acting strange? And having a big pot of coffee?

Luisa, taking a sip: You know that new person from Cuba? Well, he open a café and start selling his homemade Cuban coffee because you know, he's a cuban.*taking a sip* And, being on break, wanted try it out, so I went there and order a cup of cuban coffee. *take another sip* when he came back, he give a shot of expresso. So I thought "jajaja, I get it, because I big, he give me a small shot". And so I said "hey! I not a -ita, I'm an -anda, give me a bigger cup" and he goes "you want it bigger?! Okay I give you a bigger one!" *take a northern sip* So he returned with a huge pot of coffee and said "okay!?". And me, not wanting to escalate this, decided yes and took a sip. *take a sip* And discovered that cuban coffee has such a strong concentration and why he give me a shot. So, not looking like an idiot, I took a huge gulped -the guy signed the cross too- and went home and now I have a large pot of cuban coffee. *take a huge gulp* Anyways, I think I could see the 5th dimension.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

Common Courtesy, Chapter Seven

Word Count:  6786

TW:  Angsty idiots in love; Smut (PiV, protected).  18+ only.

AN:  Part of a series.  The series masterlist here.

Monday morning had you on edge.  You were a reasonably good actress, considering how you wore different personas when dealing with assailants and victims alike. You could be blunt or mean, flirty or sweet.  Whatever the situation called for.  But you struggled to apply those skills to your personal life, and now your personal life was bleeding into your professional one.

You were in early, sifting through the new cases that the junior detectives had handled during the Max Lucas trial.  You were scanning them when Nick came in.  He plunked your coffee order in front of you – the two of you switch off on caffeine duty – and settled in at his desk.

“Good weekend?” he asked.

You took a sip of your coffee.  “It was fine.  Uneventful. You?”

“I had Zara this weekend,” he replied as he logged into his computer.  “We went to the zoo.”

You smiled at him.  “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, smiling back at you.  Your partner could be a certified pain in your ass, but you loved that he was such as great father to Zara, always making time for her and putting her first.  His smile faded though, and you saw the ripple in his jaw as he clenched it.

“So uneventful weekend for you then?” he asked, his voice tight.  “Stayed in?”

You turned your attention back to your files. “Pretty much.”

The bullpen filled with a tense silence; the only sounds were you flipping through pages and Nick tapping his pen against the edge of his desk.

“You know,” he cut in suddenly.  “I never asked you how your happy hour with Barba went.”

You kept your face carefully neutral.  You knew Nick would circle around to that topic of conversation eventually.  He was like a dog worrying at a bone, especially when it came to the ADA. Barba could single-handedly end rape culture and Nick would still find a reason to clench his jaw, puff out his chest, and take a proverbial swing at the lawyer.  And Barba would do the same.  They were like male betta fish, blowing up for no reason other than the fact that another male – or Cuban – was nearby.

Luckily, you knew how to lie pretty well.  A valuable lesson you learned working with criminals was that the best lies were the ones as close to the truth as possible. It’s how the canny managed to beat lie detectors.  Tell the truth, or as much of it as you could.

“Happy hour was good,” you replied, your face as relaxed as you could make it.  Not a lie.

“Really?”  He narrowed his eyes.  “I can tell it was good.”  He gestured at the side of his neck.  “You have a little something right there….”

Face blank.  You knew he’d notice the hickey that Barba had laid on your throat. You’d tried to cover it with makeup that morning, but then it just looked like a hickey covered in makeup. So you wiped off the concealer and didn’t bother.  “Yeah, Barba did that.”  Not a lie.

“Really.”

“Yeah,” you said.  You flipped the folder in front of you open and pretended to read the case summary.  “We had a few drinks and then I took him back to my place and we had sex.”  You looked up at your partner, and the two of you stared at each other.  He was trying to read you, and you were able to hold his gaze because you hadn’t lied yet.

Nick narrowed his eyes at you, then declared, “You’re lying.”

You shook your head.  “I’m not.  We drank and talked.  He talked about scotch, and I talked about how when you and he square off, I imagine you both shirtless to keep it interesting.  Then we went back to my place, like I said.”  Not a lie either.

He rolled his eyes at you, then turned back to his computer.  “Whatever.”

You got up and went over to his desk, sitting on the edge.  “Look, Nick. It was a rough week, so I went and got some cupping therapy over the weekend to help work out some tension.” You laughed and rubbed at the hickey like you were embarrassed.  “This is what happens when you use a coupon for a place in Chinatown.  My back is covered with bruises too.”  Finally, the lie you had rehearsed in your head on the subway ride over.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

You shrugged, your hands up in surrender. “You seemed certain that Barba…” You trailed off and shook your head. “Not that anything happened, but you’re not my dad, you know.”

He looked ashamed, and you continued.  “At best, you’re an annoying big brother.  And as such, you need to do what a big brother would do:  ignore your little sister’s imagined sex life and pretend it doesn’t exist. Comprende?”

He grimaced.  “Don’t say ‘sex life.’  Don’t make me imagine you and Barba.”

You pushed yourself off of his desk. “Imagine me and Barba what? Having sex?  Making passionate love?  Banging?”  You watched his face turn crimson, Catholic boy that he was.  “Poundtown, population two?”

“Stop,” he whined.  “I get the point.  No more assumptions.”

“Damned right,” you said, and you punched him hard in the upper arm to drive home the point.  You returned to your desk, your partner chuckling and rubbing his arm, and you got to work for real.  You knew everyone would notice the bruise on your neck, but you also knew that Nick would tell Amanda, and Amanda would tell Fin, and the lie would circulate through the bullpen with no more work necessary from you.

In truth, the morning had you on edge because you didn’t know how you’d act if – or when – you saw Barba.  After he left that morning, you spent the rest of the weekend replaying your time together in your head.  First the fun parts, then the embarrassing ones.  

Like your “bedding” comment.  He had been so close to leaving, and you had wanted to thank him for, well, having sex with you, but you couldn’t say “thanks for having sex with me.”  It was too blunt.  You likewise couldn’t say “fucking,” because that sounded dirtier somehow, “having intercourse” sounded too clinical, and “making love” sounded too romantic.  Your mouth settled on “thanks for bedding me,” and it had slipped past your lips before your brain realized it.  Per usual.

The rest of the team trickled in eventually, and you pushed your worries to the back of your mind and got to work.  Cragan called you and Nick into his office and walked you through your next assignment – a series of possibly-related missing women cases, with further possible links to cold cases.  A suspect, serving a life sentence at Rikers on unrelated charges, was indicating he might know something.  You and your partner worked out a strategy and took off running.

*****

By the time Monday rolled around, Barba was practically kicking himself for how he acted the morning he left you.  Between the time he exited your building and the moment he strode into his office on Monday, he had picked up his phone about a million times and hovered his finger over your contact information.  Each time, though, he left your number undialed. And then he chastised himself. The cycle repeated all weekend.

You had fallen asleep so fast that night that he almost worried that you’d died, but your gentle snoring proved that you were still alive.  It had taken him longer to nod off.  In the darkness of the room, he had stroked your hair, occasionally burying his nose against your head and breathing in your scent.  You had nestled against him; your head fit perfectly in the space between his chin and his chest.

Being a lawyer, he had considered next steps. Points:  you were smart, funny, and kind; you were gorgeous.  You made his stomach lurch pleasantly when you walked into his office.  You made his heart race when he knew he was going to see you in your office.  You made his blood raise a degree or two when he thought about you twisting underneath him, naked.

Counterpoints:  you were younger than him.  Being smart, funny, kind, and gorgeous made you a catch for any man or woman with half a brain in their skull.  The biggest counterpoint of all:  every woman he’d ever dated or loved had left him.

Conclusion:  Could he picture a world where you were his?  Yes, but it wasn’t reality.  Eventually something would happen – you’d get tired of his work hours or lack of stamina – and you’d leave him just like all the others.

As he came to his conclusion, you had sighed contently in your sleep and curled against him tighter, you hand sleepily drifting from where it lay on his chest.  You wrapped your arm around his waist and squeezed him in your own embrace.

Yes, he thought before drifting off into his own slumber.  You were probably going to break his heart.

When he woke that next morning, you were both still entangled.  He was worried that you would wake up regretting the evening before – the light creeping through the edges of your curtains brought in a host of ugly thoughts. To his surprise, you were already awake, judging by the contented low humming at the back of your throat and your gentle tracing up and down his arm that gripped you around your torso.  So he pushed those ugly thoughts aside for a moment, long enough to bring you to an orgasm.  By the time you were recovered enough to reach for him, the ugly thoughts were back and he had stopped you.  He kept himself noncommittal, despite seeing the disappointment written plainly across your face when he went to leave.  If you hadn’t blurted out that ridiculous comment about him bedding you, he would have made it out free and clear.  He spent the weekend berating himself.  Sunday night, he laid out his second best suit and vowed to talk to you the next morning.

But Monday passed without seeing or talking to you. Tuesday, he was locked in meetings all day at his office.  Wednesday, he stopped in the bullpen to give Liv details for her grand jury testimony on a case.  Your coat and bag were there, but you weren’t.  By Thursday, he was in a quiet panic and placed a call to your desk phone – but you didn’t pick up, and he didn’t leave a message.  You were definitely avoiding him, he decided.  He could have called or texted your cell, but he wasn’t sure he could handle the thought of you seeing his name flash on your screen….and then ignoring it.  By Friday, he was out of clean three-piece suits and had to settle for his tan two piece. He paired it with a green tie and suspenders, hoping it brought out his eyes if he managed to catch you.

He strode into the precinct Friday evening.  He and Liv were going out to dinner, so he had a completely plausible reason for being there.  His heart was thudding in his chest as he rounded the corner to the bullpen, and his spirits instantly sank.  You coat was gone, and your computer was locked away, your desk bare. He had missed you.

He hadn’t missed Amaro though.  The detective sat at his desk, glaring at Barba.  “She’s gone,” he said.

“Who, Liv?” Barba responded cheekily.  “We’re going to dinner, so she better still be here.”

Amaro stood and walked over to the ADA.  “I know what you and my partner are up to,” he said.

Barba swallowed hard, but he kept his voice level. “And what are we up to, exactly?”

Amaro sneered and rolled his eyes.  He pointed to his neck.  “I know she got that bruise from some massage place in Chinatown.” He narrowed his eyes.  “She tell you to come here and rile me up?”

Barba snorted a sarcastic laugh.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Inwardly, he wondered what you had been playing at with your partner.  Had you told him about your night together?  Or had you lied to avoid being embarrassed?

“You tell her that I’m not falling for it,” the detective continued.  He stared Barba down for a minute, then marched back to his desk with a huff. Barba stared after him in confusion, but Liv came out of Cragan’s office a minute later and saved him the effort of dealing with Nick.  She wrapped up her work and left with Barba, leaving Nick to stew at his desk alone.

Dinner was at a new spot that featured a seasonal menu, pretentious drinks, and a wait staff of gorgeous failed models that vacillated between ineptitude and downright boredom.  Barba and Liv sat at their table and gave their drink orders to a willowy blonde with razor sharp cheekbones.  The two chatted amiably as they scanned their menus.  Liv had taken the sergeant’s exam, and Barba updated her about the latest gossip in his building.  The waitress brought their drinks and took down their food order before wandering off to talk with the bartender.

Barba watched her go.  “You know, I don’t think she put our order in at the kitchen,” he remarked.  “We may be here a while.”

“No wonder it’s impossible to get a reservation here,” Liv observed as she sipped her reimagined dry martini.  “It takes five hours to get your food.”

Barba snorted.  He tapped his fingers on the tabletop and relaxed after his tense week.  He wanted desperately to ask Liv about you, but with her razor-sharp intuition, she broached the topic for him.

“So I heard a preposterous story that a certain young detective got into a fight at a massage parlor during a stakeout,” Live said.  Barba responded by taking a sip of his scotch (“chilled with pieces of lunel marble for an enhanced palate experience,” the menu had proclaimed).  When he didn’t answer, she continued, “or at least that’s the story she probably spread to cover the giant hickey on the side of her neck.”

Barba choked on his drink, spitting most of it back into his glass.  Liv smiled and cocked her head to the side.  “You okay?”

“Why would you think she spread a story?” he wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath.

“No reason,” she replied.  “Just that there was no massage parlor stakeout, and if there was, why would we send in a woman as a plant?”  She shook her head with a laugh.  “For a building full of detectives, it was disturbing how quickly they bought that story.”

Barba smiled into his drink, but then his grin fell. “What did Amaro say about this story?”

Liv shrugged.  “I haven’t really seen him all week.  They’ve either been at Rikers, sweating a prisoner, or on the 6th floor in the cold case records room.”  She filled him in on the details of the cases you were working on linking.  As she did, the waitress brought out their food.

“Pretty sure I ordered the chicken,” Liv said, spearing a shrimp dripping in sauce.  “But I’m starving so I’ll let it pass.”

The two started eating.  Barba took a bite of his steak – it wasn’t terrible, even if it was a bit too dry.  Liv worked on her shrimp.  Between bites, she asked him how his date with you went.

Barba cringed.  “It went really well,” he said.  “But I already screwed it up, I think.”  Leaving it intentionally vague, he told her about your evening together and how he had failed to call you since he left you a week ago.  And how he now suspected that you were avoiding him.

Liv shook her head in sympathy.  “She’s not ducking you, Rafa.  She’d been slammed with this new case load.  I barely saw her this week, but I can tell you one thing: every time I looked over at her, she was checking her cell phone.”

Barba sighed.  “It’s for the best.  It wouldn’t work out in the long run anyway.”

“You’re right,” Liv agreed.  “Two smart people like you two would never work out. You’re incredibly stubborn, and she’s only a little stubborn.”

“Smart ass,” he mumbled around a bite of steak. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then slid his plate away.  

He was secretly pleased that Liv didn’t dismiss you as a couple outright.  She was pretty no-nonsense about relationships, so if she thought something wouldn’t work out, it usually meant it wouldn’t.  

The waitress came to their table to clear their dishes and hand them a dessert menu.  

“Anything look good to you?” Liv asked.  He scanned the menu and found something.  

“Yes,” he replied.  “But I’m full, so I’ll order it to go.”

*****

You were on your couch, in your most comfortable pajamas, and wrapped up in your fluffiest blanket like a burrito.  Your TV was playing a marathon of your favorite baking show, the one you watched when you needed to forget your own life for a while. Instead of investigating awful crimes, you pretended you lived in the baking tent on the quaint English countryside with exceedingly polite and kind fellow bakers.

In theory, you loved the work you did this week. You and Nick had dug up a slew of cold cases and had started to connect the pieces like an elaborate jigsaw puzzle.

The problem was, it wasn’t a puzzle, but peoples’ lives.  As the links became clearer, you knew you’d have to start knocking on doors and digging up their pain.  If you solved the case, it could give them closure…. but if you didn’t, you were only reopening old wounds.

You drew the edge of your blanket up to your chin and focused on the new episode starting, chuckling darkly to yourself. It was sweet dough week, and that always led to drama.  The first challenge had just started (a sweet tea loaf using yeast) when there was a knock at your door.

****

He nearly turned around when he reached your building, but when he noticed the front door propped open, he considered it kismet.  He took the stairs to your floor slowly and found himself in front of your door.

Through your door, he could hear the muffled sounds of your TV.  And you, giggling.  It made him smile, and before he could stop himself, he was knocking.  The TV noise stopped, and he heard you pad to the door. Then it swung open.

He gave you a small smile that you didn’t return. Instead, you popped your head out of your doorway and looked down the hall.

“How’d you get in?” you asked.

“Front door was open,” he responded.  “What were you laughing at?”

You gave an evil cackle, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb towards the TV.  “This guy is making a sweet tea loaf with hemp flour.”  You looked up at him, your eyes bright with merriment.  “It is not going to go well.”

He peered over your shoulder – some cooking show, he guessed, judging from the muted TV screen – then he peered at you.  “Can I come in?”

You dropped your own gaze to the bag in his hand. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”  He handed it to you, and you glanced in to see the take-out container. You stepped aside, gesturing with your arm for him to enter.

You shut the door, then walked past him into the kitchen.  He followed close at your heels and watched you open the container.

“It’s a key lime panna cotta,” he said, nervous. “I wasn’t sure what you liked…or if you even like dessert….”

You opened a drawer.  “You want to split this?” you asked.  He shook his head, so you pulled out a spoon.  You leaned against the counter and dug in.  He leaned against the island opposite you and watched in silence, his palms sweating.  This was a terrible idea, he realized.  As you focused on eating, he looked you over.  It was the most he’d ever seen of you.  Your hair was loose and damp from a recent shower, and the bruise on your neck was already fading to a yellow and blue splotch.  You wore thick socks on your feet, a pair of flannel sleep shorts, and white t-shirt with flowing font that strained ever so slightly against your breasts.  He snickered when he read what was written on your shirt – Bride Vibes, it said.

“When’s the big day?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at your chest.  You looked up, mid-bite, with a confused expression.  Then you looked down at yourself and laughed, breaking the stony silence.  Finally, he thought.

“Clearance rack,” you explained.  “No one ever sees me when I’m sleeping, and it’s really soft cotton.”  You demonstrated by rubbing the hem between the index finger and thumb on your free hand. He reached out and did the same, careful not to touch your skin.

“It is soft,” he agreed.  He kept the edge of your shirt pinched in his hand, then looked up into your eyes.  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“It’s okay,” you said.  You dropped your eyes back down to your dessert.  “I don’t have any….expectations, you know.”

He dropped the hem of your shirt and leaned back again.  “Is that why you told Amaro that you got your hickey fighting at a massage parlor?”

You brayed with surprised laughter, throwing your head back.  “Is that what he told you?”  Barba explained his conversation with Liv and his earlier encounter with Amaro while you shook your head, laughing the whole while.

“SVU is a pit of gossip, but that’s just embarrassing,” you said.  “It’s like a bad game of telephone.”  You filled the ADA in on your original conversation with Amaro, speculating at how the story mutated with each telling.  “The important thing is, your tracks are covered,” you finished.  

Barba sighed and dropped his head for a moment. “I wanted to call you, many times. I just…didn’t.”  He raised his head to look at you.  “I did tell you that I hadn’t….drank scotch much myself lately, if you remember.”

You nodded.  “It really is okay.  I don’t have any expectations, like I said, but I did enjoy my time with you last weekend.”

“Me too,” he replied.  “And for what it’s worth, I’m here now.”

“You are,” you countered thoughtfully.  You took another bite of the panna cotta. “This is good, by the way.  You sure you don’t want any?  Last bite?  It’s all yours.”  You rattled the container at him.  He took a half-step towards you and took the container from your hand.  He spooned the last bite into his mouth, savoring the tang of citrus and burst of sugar on his tongue.  

“It is good,” he replied.  “Makes up for the overcooked steak I had there.”  You stood in front of him, leaned against the counter, just watching him.  He tried to read your expression, but your eyes were curiously unreadable.  Your mouth betrayed you though.  As you stared at him, your eyes dropped to his lips for a split second; your tongue crept out and licked your own lower lip, pulling it into your mouth for a moment before releasing it.  He took a deep breath and made another half-step towards you.  He watched your chest hitch with a sharp intake of breath.

He sat the used spoon on the counter behind you, then he dragged his thumb through the bit of melted panna cotta in the bottom of the container.  He raised it to your mouth and pressed the tip of his thumb, coated in sugary syrup, against your lips.  You stared at him levelly, your eyes still unreadable, but you parted your lips all the same.  He slid his thumb in your mouth.   He groaned inwardly as you tongued off the sugar, then sucked gently on his digit, pushing your mouth forward until it was buried up to the second knuckle.  You swirled your tongue around it, biting your teeth down gently before you pulled back and released it with a soft popping sound.

He crashed against you in a riot of grasping hands and open mouth, pawing at you like a drowning man.  You pulled him against you, moaning at his growing erection pressed against your lower belly as he devoured your mouth, tonguing you roughly. He tangled his hand in your damp hair and pulled it until your head was tilted just so.  He broke away from your mouth and pressed a trail of rough kisses down the side of your neck, pausing at the healing bruise, where he laid a gentle one to avoid re-injuring you.

“I’m sorry about this,” he murmured against your neck.  You smelled like whatever soap you used, and he nuzzled your soft skin with his nose. “I guess I got carried away.”

You breathed heavily against him and laughed breathlessly.  “There’s one on my leg too that’s even bigger,” you huffed.  “There’s visible teeth marks.”

Barba pulled away from you and made himself look angry.  “You left some decent scratch marks on my back, detective.”

“Sure,” you scoffed.  “And no one will know about them unless you go to trial shirtless.” You paused for a moment, then added, “That might work though, as a strategy.  Judge Patano seemed to especially enjoy your S&M show during Adam Cain’s trial.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” he whispered. His free hand crept under your shirt, his knuckles ghosting over your belly before he slid up to cup one of your breasts.  He ran his thumb over your erect bud, stroking it and making you moan.  You leaned forward and pressed a sloppy kiss on his jaw, your lips soft against his stubble.  His hand released your breast and drifted down, slipping out from under your shirt and over the flannel of your sleep shorts.  He rested his hand on your mound, cupping you, and he felt your growing dampness through the cloth.

“Is this all for me?” he asked, his voice rough. He could feel your face growing hot from where it was pressed against his neck, but he didn’t care.  He could feel his heart hammering away, making his pulse thunder in his temples and pooling blood to his agonizingly hard cock.

“Were you thinking of me before I got here?  Imagining me touching you…” He slipped his hand under the waistband of your shorts. “…just like this?”  He slid a single finger against your soaked crease, then pushed it slowly but steadily into you.  He paused half a moment as you sighed against his throat and circled your arms around his neck.  Your face, he could tell, was on fire, and he stoked it by pumping his finger in and out of you, sawing it against your swollen and slick lower lips.  You rocked your hips against him, and the two of you stayed like that until he heard your breathing getting ragged.  Then he stopped and pulled his hand away.  You gave a frustrated whine, and he gently fisted your hair again and pulled your head away until you were facing him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his eyes narrowed.  “Were you thinking about me?”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything.  Your pupils were wide with lust.

“I need you to use your words,” he said softly. “I want to hear you say it.”

Your face was crimson, but you looked him square in the eyes.  “Yes, I was thinking about you, counselor.”

He lowered his voice and continued.  “So when you were thinking about me, what happens next?”

“I don’t…I’m not….” You stammered.  You shook your head from side to side, as if you were clearing your head and trying to think straight.  “You’d…I mean, we’d go….”  You trailed off and gestured towards your bedroom.

He leaned over you and placed his mouth by your ear so that his breath would brush against you.  “What happens next is, I’m going to carry you into that bedroom and fuck you senseless.”  You let out a strangled whimper and in one smooth motion, he reached down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, forcing you to hop into his arms and wrap your legs around him. He latched his arms under your backside, grinding his erection into your core, relishing the molten heat that he could feel even through several layers of clothes.  You circled your arms around his neck tightly and he carried you into the bedroom.  Once there, he laid you down gently, disentangling your arms and legs from around him.  He straightened up and stood over you.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Your hair, curled and damp from your earlier shower, was fanned around your head.  Your eyes were bright, and your lips were swollen from his rough kisses.  He looked down and saw the bite mark on your inner thigh, and you had been right – there were visible teeth marks.  Identifying him as the person who had claimed you.  The thought was incredibly erotic, and it made his cock throb.

He started to strip, pulling off his coat, slipping his tie over his head.  He unbuttoned his shirt and shucked it onto the floor, and he made short work of the rest until he was standing over you in just his boxer briefs.  He had loved you undressing him before, but he knew if he let you do that again – so painfully slow and sweet – he’d finish in his pants before he even properly started.

“You remember the rules,” he said sternly.  “If you say stop, I stop.  If you like what I’m doing, you let me know.  And,” he continued, “I propose a new rule.”

“What?” you whispered.

“That you let me keep a light on so that I can see you,” he said.  He knelt on the bed and stretched himself over you, but held his body away from yours in a sort of push-up.  He leaned down and, with his teeth, captured your erect nipple through the cloth of your shirt.  The sudden sensation made you arch underneath him with a tortured groan.  He removed his mouth.  “I want to watch you come, and I want you to see me watching you.”

You shook your head.  “I’m embarrassed,” you admitted.  “I think the only person to see me naked is probably my doctor.”

He moved over and laid beside you, facing you.  He dragged his fingertips up and down your arm, soothing you.  “Counter-offer then.”  He nodded at the lamp on your bedside table.  “We turn off the overhead light, turn on the lamp, and lay a piece of cloth over it to dim it a bit.  Best of both worlds, a little light and a little shadow.”

You considered his offer, biting your lip, then nodded your agreement.  He helped you stand up.  You went to your dresser and pulled out a blue scarf, then turned on the bedside lamp, draping the cloth over the shade.  Barba turned off the overhead, and the room was plunged into semi-darkness. His eyes started to adjust but it was still mostly shadow.

“Is this okay?” he asked.  You nodded again.

“Good,” he replied.  He reached out and grabbed the bottom of your t-shirt, making as if to remove it for you.  He paused and looked at your face for permission, which you granted by lifting your arms over your head.  He pulled the shirt over your head and kissed your upper arms as they were raised.  He tossed the shirt aside and continued kissing you – up your arms and shoulders, across your collarbone, in the hollow of your throat.

He picked you up again, repeating the motion from the kitchen, and laid you back down on the bed, drinking in your half naked form with his eyes.  Your nipples were a dusky pink, and they were prickled and hard.  You watched him studying you under half-lidded eyes, as if you were embarrassed but too curious to see what he’d do next.

What he did next was to remove his boxers, kicking them into a corner.  His erection sprang free, and your eyes widened as you looked upon it.  “No wonder it hurt afterwards,” you muttered to yourself, but he caught the words.  They made his stomach drop in dread.  He knelt on the bed and crawled his way up to you, kissing you softly on your lips, lying beside you and hovering his face over yours.   “Did I hurt you before?” he asked.  He was upset – he had never wanted to hurt you, and he cursed himself for being too rough before.

You reached up and did that thing he liked, smoothing away his worry lines with your soft hand.  “It was a good kind of hurt,” you admitted.  “Like how you can be sore after a good run.”

He chuckled.  “So I gave you a workout last time?”

You smiled, then pulled his mouth to yours.  You ghosted your lips over his, almost touching but not quite.  “Every time I sat down, it ached,” you purred.  “Reminded me of how deep you were in me.”  He groaned, and you continued.  “But then it went away, so I really would like you to fuck me like that again.”  You rose up a fraction and kissed him, hard, then slid your hand down between your body and his to grasp his erection.  You ran your hand lightly up and down it, tracing a finger around the tip.  

Barba growled and captured your mouth with his, thrusting his tongue deep into you, tasting the last bit of citrus on you. He pictured you sucking on his thumb earlier, remembering how you had looked at him steadily as you worked your tongue against him.  He imagined himself on his back, you hovering over him and putting your mouth to the same purpose on his cock, but he pushed the image aside.  He assumed you were inexperienced in that regard, but he didn’t think he’d last either way.  That could wait.  Right now, he wanted to fuck you, just as you had requested.  

He pushed your hand off of him and rose up over you. He pushed your sleep shorts down roughly, leaving you completely naked underneath him.  He only took a moment to enjoy the sight – you were writhing, your hands uselessly grabbing bunches of the sheets – before reaching for the night stand and pulling out a condom.  The two of you watched each other – you watched him roll the condom onto himself, he watched your chest rise and fall with each deep breath you pulled – until he was ready. He settled over you, and you opened your legs to him.  You reached down and took him in your hand, guiding him to your entrance.

He laid some of his weight onto you, pressing a kiss to your lips before remarking, “you’re an old pro at this now.”  

You laughed and squirmed against him until the tip of his cock slipped into you.  You both groaned at the sensation, pausing for a moment before proceeding.  You looked him in the eye, brave in the dim blue light from the lamp.  “Let’s just say that I thought about this,” you murmured. “A lot.”

He pushed into you in a smooth motion, stopping when he was halfway in, watching your face for any sign of pain.  Your eyelids fluttered, and your mouth dropped open in an “oh.”  Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and your hands stroked his back and shoulders.

“Is that okay?” he whispered.  Your licentious pillow-talk aside, he really didn’t want to cause you pain.  It occurred to him that maybe you were faking it, that maybe you were pushing past discomfort for the sake of gaining experience.  Before he could follow this line of inquiry, though, you answered him.

“I’m fine,” you said.  “But you have to stop teasing me like this.”  You swiveled your hips upwards at his, trying to find some friction and whining in frustration when you couldn’t.  So he pushed the rest of his cock into you, slowly but steadily. A strangled sob tore from your throat, and your head rocked to the side as your hands clawed at his back.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him.  He started to thrust, carefully at first.  He pulled himself nearly all the way out, then pressed back in, slowly, embedding himself in your tight core.  You weren’t nearly as tense as last time, but you still gripped him like a fist, and he had to concentrate to delay his own release.  He tried to think of the least erotic things he could – tort reform, sentencing minimums, lists of misdemeanors.  

You were panting beneath him, making his concentration difficult.  He kissed you across your face – your forehead and cheeks, your chin – and then picked up the pace of his thrusts.  You started pushing back against him, gaining an extra fraction of how much of himself he could bury in you.

“You feel so good,” you said, your voice thick with lust. You removed one hand from his back and gripped his bicep that was bracing him alongside your head.  Your other hand drifted to his hip, helping guide his pelvis as he drove into you.  “I’m so close, Raf.”

He grunted, driving harder now.  He was close too.  He plunged into you, grinding into your tilted pelvis and the sensitive bundle of nerves near where the two of you were joined in searing wet heat.  He reached up with his free hand and grabbed your jaw, turning your head from its side and forcing you to face him.  Your eyes were wide as they stared into his, and you bit your lower lip as he thrust into you.  “I want to see you come,” he panted.  “Don’t you dare turn away from me.”

Your face screwed up in a semblance of pain, your eyes squeezed tight as he delivered a rough thrust that triggered your release. He felt it first in your core, your sheath bearing down and gripping him so tightly that he fell off the cliff with you. He gave one final push, deep, and gave in to his orgasm, watching you come too.  “Open your eyes,” he said, shuddering and thrusting haphazardly.  “Look at me.”  

You sobbed against him, your legs drawn up alongside his thrusting hips, trembling.  “Rafael,” you cried.  You opened your eyes and looked into his, struggling to focus on him as they rolled back into your head, your eyelids fluttering.  The look on your face was one of complete surrender; he’d never seen anything like it. The sight prolonged his own orgasm, making his vision go black for a second.  He wondered dimly what you were seeing in his eyes, if anything.

He collapsed on top of you, pressing your trembling body into the mattress with the full force of his weight.  It took a moment for him to recover, and he slipped out of you and rose on shaky legs to go dispose of the condom.  When he returned, you had covered yourself with the sheet, and you watched him walk over to the bed and sit on the edge of it.

“Okay?” he asked, a bit shyly.  He took your nearest hand and grasped it gently, stroking the palm with his other hand.

“Mmm,” you replied agreeably.  You let out a deep, contented sigh, then half rose on the bed, removing your hand from his.  “You heading out?”  He could tell you were trying to sound nonchalant, and it hurt him to know that you were acting how you thought he wanted you.

“Yeah,” he said.  He watched the disappointment ghost across your face, and then watched you bring your features under control.  He sat a moment and waited for his still-racing pulse to slow down.  “But if you’re okay with it, I could stay….”

He smiled when he saw the happiness flood your face, and he reached over and stroked the back of your head, tracing his fingertips down the back of your neck and over the knobs of your spine.  You moved over in the bed, making room for him, and he crawled into the warm space you had just vacated.  He turned off the lamp, and settled in, pulling you against him so that your head rested on his chest.  He stroked your back and smiled again at the contented hum that he drew out of you.

[blue-bird-kny]

Day 9: Peppermint Smooches

This was purely indulgent, I love peppermint flavored things and I love cooking/baking so enjoy this as you please~Amanda

P.S: For those who don’t know flan is a delicious dessert made of milk and caramel, my family is cuban and that is a staple dessert at parties.

Reblogs are always appreciated~

Warning: N/a unless you aren’t a fan of sweets, 

( 1.2k+ words)

↳{In which you spoil your boyfriend with various of your favorite holiday treats for almost an entire month}

The house smelled of candy and sweets, the overwhelming scent of baked goods pouring out of every crevice and window. You hummed happily in the kitchen wearing a matching mittens and apron set, both adorned with cheesy gingerbread men over white cloth complete with satin red ribbons to tie around your neck and waist.  You mixed together a sticky batter of cinnamon and sugar, tablespoons of spiced rums and vanilla’s all combined together to create a decadent toffee cake smothered in a bitter brandy sauce; your mouth watered and taste buds buzzed in anticipation of eating this dessert.

The holiday season was your playing field; starting December 1st all the way to the new year, you stuffed your friends with delectable sweets, everyday a different flavor and style, and this year you had another special someone to fatten up. Just as you set the pan on the counter to cool, faint footsteps could be heard waddling their way into your kitchen, “Why does it smell like Santa threw up” Giyuu’s nose crinkled as he appeared in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame. “Well Sir, you’ve just entered a battle zone of my own creation. Pick your weapon, flour or milk?” you joked, setting the red mittens aside in favor of resting against your boyfriend, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Carrots” he randomly picks in an attempt to be funny, “What are you..? Never mind, come taste my cake” you ushered him in to the kitchen, carefully slicing the browned food, blowing on the piece before shoving it into Giyuu awaiting hole.

He chewed slowly as you anxiously awaited his reaction, “Too sweet or too bitter? I did go a little heavy on the liquor” you spireled nit-picking your own desert. Finally, Giyuu’s cool voice spoke “Nothing’s wrong with it, it's perfect. Could I have another piece?” he asked, mouth agape as a low ‘ahh’ sound traveled out. You giggled scooping another slice for him to try; Giyuu savored every bite you pushed his way, but oh how unaware he was of the tooth-rotting month he was about to partake in.

You made dishes of all sorts: gingerbread, strawberry, all sorts of chocolate and nutty arrangements, but nothing compared to the minty sweet that was peppermint. While children wait for gifts in December, you waited year-round to exploit the festive flavor, creating all sorts of pairings to try. You incorporate it into practically anything; topping your whipped creams with crushed bits or mixing them into batter and frosting, using larger pieces for brittle or to freeze with white chocolate, and not a morning passed when you didn’t melt the striped candy to add the extract to your coffee. It was an unhealthy holiday obsession you were far from ashamed of and, unfortunately for him, your Hashira boyfriend had to endure every bit of it.

You were well into three weeks of your cavity-ridden adventures when you found yourself putting together packages of sweets for your friends, each filled with tarts and truffles all wrapped in a hand-tied bow- and of course, this meant you had to include some peppermint treat as well. You browsed through dozens of cookbooks and tested numerous flavor profiles, until you settled with a classic chocolate-peppermint cookie- simple,sweet, and irresistible.

You got to work mixing the dry and wet ingredients, popping them into the fire quickly so as to keep the dark cookie dough at a proper temperature. You melted semi-sweet chocolate chips, mixing in cups of heavy cream to help keep the chocolate smooth and rich to create spread, finally crushing whole sticks of candy canes to garnish the treat. “All done” you sighed, pulling the final ribbon together in a taught knot, a line of baskets ready to be dropped off with your friends the next morning. Your face scrunched together in a loud yawn, the sun already setting outside, “guess I got a little carried away” you chuckled nervously, “You think? You were in there for five hours” a deep disembodied voice answered from behind you.

“Aww so are you saying you missed me, Yuu’” you teased, turning to face the man whose black hair tumbled around his shoulders in the perfect bedhead. He grunted as a response, effortlessly peering over your shorter stature into the kitchen. He was always amazed at your impressive cleanliness because no matter what you baked it always appeared as though a one-man baking championship had not just gone down in there. “What’s with all this?” he asked referring to your gifts, “Just some holiday cheer for our friends, I’ve barely given them any goods this year” you exaggerated as if you hadn’t made Giyuu deliver a plate of pecan pie and flan you’d learned from a foreign cook book to his last Hashira meeting like it was an office christmas party. He noticed the tags hanging on each bow, reading the first one he saw, “Sanemi-san” he grimaced, “Everyone gets one?” “Yes everyone gets one” you started, “and he happens to appreciate my cooking” you added already knowing that there was only one person who could warrant such response from the pillar.

A twinge of jealousy struck Giyuu as he imagine your bubbly self dropping of your hard work into the hands of that brute when you called for him rolling your eyes, “I saved the best one for you though” you held the cookie up to his lips, the oh-so familiar red and white sprinkled across the top. Without a moment's hesitation Giyuu took the desert into his mouth, the silky smooth cocoa cookie coating his taste buds. You watched in delight as the one you loved most enjoyed your favorite hobby when suddenly you noticed the smallest twitch in his eye, so miniscule you almost missed it. “What wrong? Yuu’, if you don’t like it, it's okay” you comforted, eyes softening as you peered up into his crystal orbs.

“This is it” Giyuu thought defeated and slightly upset that he slipped up, “I’m going to have to tell her” he took a deep breath, his confession coming out firm as he said “I hate peppermint”. You blinked in confusion, trying to piece together how he stomached practically every edible thing you pushed his way for the last month. “Wait, you mean the whole time you hated peppermint” you asked with furrowed brows, “yet still ate everything I made...why? I wouldn’t have been upset” Giyuu spoke as if his reasoning was the most obvious in the world, “It makes you happy and I didn’t want to take that away from you”

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at his words, so simple and genuine yet they made you feel like the luckiest person with the best boyfriend. “Giyuu you make me happy, with or without the peppermint” you jumped onto your tiptoes, leaning forward to press a long, passionate kiss on Giyuu surprised lips. He recovered quickly though, his arms slithered around your waist and into your hair, “You taste like peppermint” he stated after pulling away. “Sorry” you laughed embarrassingly, the pads of his finger brushing against the plush skin “From your lips, peppermint is my favorite flavor” he whispered, delving in to get another taste.

Holiday Event Masterlist

[ikleesfiction]

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 1,590 words Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3

Part 4

Jay whistles as he steps into the Intelligence Unit area the next day. “Good morning!”, greets him to the room. “You’re chirpy today”, his partner, Hailey Upton notices.

“Am I? Isn’t this just a beautiful morning?”, Jay points out to the window. The wind is blowing hard outside and it’s a bit cloudy. Hailey looks at her partner suspiciously. Jay hums happily as he opens a file at his desk.

"Nobody should be that happy looking at a case report", Adam Ruzek comments.

"Have you finished your report from yesterday's case, Ruzek?", Al Olinsky asks his partner

"No. But it's still unbecoming to see", Adam jerks his head to Jay.

"You don't have to be as happy as Halstead there, but get to it!", Al scolds him. Adam grumbly sits on his desk, finishing his report.

◢◤

You're getting ready to leave the clinic after a harsh PT session. Today's exercise left your feet feels sore. As you pack up, your physical therapist comes holding a file in his hand. "Hey, can we talk for a moment?"

"Is everything okay?", you ask him as you see him frowning.

"I've discussed your latest scan with your doctor at Med. I informed them of your progress and current condition. We agree that we need to extend your treatment for another month", he explains to you.

"What? But I feel fine!", you ask him disbelievingly.

"Yeah, but that cramp you got at the swimming pool? We think there's something else that caused it. So just to be safe, we are gonna redo the previous segment again. A month to redo and another month for the last segment", he discloses.

You sit down at the bench, unable to say anything. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know you are eager to go back home to Amsterdam. But we cannot let you go without being 100% sure that you're completely healthy", your trainer tries to console you. "I believe you will do well, Y/N. Two months are going to fly by unnoticed". You just rub your face, trying to hold yourself together. "Alright", since you're not sure what else you can say.

As you arrive back at your place, you know you should've started to cook lunch. But you're not in the mood to do anything else than go hide your pain from the universe under your duvet.

Before you reach your bedroom, your phone rings. Without seeing the caller, you flatly pick it up, "Hello?"

"Uhm, Hi Y/N?", a deep voice sounds unsure on the other line. You recognize that voice and suddenly you feel warm.

"Jay Halstead, Nice to hear your voice", you reply. "It's lovely to hear yours too.", you can hear a smile in Jay's reply.

"Are you on lunch break, Detective Halstead?", you ask him.

"Sort of? I'm leaving the 21st District now to meet my CI. Probably will get a sandwich on the way", Jay informs you.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?", you retort. Jay lets out an infectious laugh that makes you giggle. "Are you busy tonight?", Jay boldly asks.

Temporarily forgetting your pain, you quickly answer, "I haven't been busy in the last two months"

"Wanna go out to dinner with me?", Jay suggests. "Sure. Where to?", you easily agree.

Jay hasn't thought that far before. He only knows that he'd like to see you soon. So he tries a diversion tactic, "Err, it's a surprise. I'll pick you up at 7?"

"Okay. I'll be ready", you say with a smile. "See you tonight", as Jay ends the call.

Talking to Jay made you feel better. Add that with the prospect of date night, you are quite excited now. You change your mind about hiding under the duvet instead you go to your kitchen to cook lunch.

◢◤

Jay sits in the car with Hailey. They are staking out a food truck, where the suspect has been seen to visit frequently. “Hey, what do you think of Mexican food on a first date?”, Jay suddenly asks Hailey.

“You’re asking me out, Halstead?”, Hailey quips back, eyes stay on the food truck.

“What? No! I mean, what do you think if your date takes you to a Mexican restaurant on a first date?”, Jay tries to clarify.

“Well, I like Mexican food. So I wouldn’t mind”, answers Hailey. Jay hums in response.

“But other girls might. Why are you asking me this anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be a slick playboy who can pull anyone?”, Hailey taunts him. Jay protests, “I am not”.

“Yes, you are! And usually, you’re proud of that! This person must’ve been really special if you’re thinking this hard”, Hailey wonders.

“I think she might”, Jay agrees. It’s so softly spoken, Hailey isn’t sure she heard it right. But before Hailey can ask further, “That’s our guy”, Jay says as he got out of the car.

Their suspect turned out to be a dead end. Jay got a bad feeling about this case. So he texts you to cancel the date. Hey, can we take a rain check for tonight?

Is this you bailing on me, Detective?. He's seen your reply, but Jay doesn't have time to answer. He just hopes you understand.

It’s quite late at night, but the Intelligence Unit hasn’t been able to solve the case. So they all stay back at the office, working hard. Jay goes to the break room to refill his coffee mug. He pulls out his phone and calls you as he waits for the coffee to brew.

"Hey, Jay. Catch the bad guy yet?", you ask as you pick up.

"Hi Y/N. Not yet. Seems like it's going to be a long night. I'm sorry we have to reschedule our dinner date", Jay says in regret.

"It's okay. I get it. You told me before right?", you answer patiently.

"It's not my intention to bail. I really want to see you", he sounds disappointed.

"Hey, it's alright. As I say, I'm never busy nowadays. So let me know whenever you have time, we'll make it", you try to comfort him.

"Why are you so lovely?" He gratefully asks you. "Maybe because you are too?", you flirt in response.

Jay sees the coffee is done brewing. He stands up from his chair and one-handedly pours the coffee into his cup. "I gotta go back to work", he informs you halfheartedly.

"Of course. You'll be safe, right Jay?", you request him.

“Yeah, I will. Sleep tight, alright? Dream of me. Bye”, as he disconnects the call.

Hailey enters the break room just as Jay ends his phone call. “I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to see you making kissy noise, Halstead”, Hailey mocks him. Jay just throws a packet of sugar to Hailey’s head and left the room.

The next morning, they feel like they’re getting closer to catch the perp. Jay puts his hand to close his mouth when he feels a big yawn coming. The landline on his desk then rings. “Halstead”, he picks it up.

“Hey, Detective, there’s somebody down here asking to see you”, Trudy Platt on the other line. He’s not sure who would it be, so he’s surprised when he saw you standing in front of Trudy’s desk.

"Hi, Y/N. You’re a sight for sore eyes”, he gives you a hug and a kiss on your cheek.

You grin at Jay, “Hi, Jay. I brought coffee and breakfast for you and the team. I thought you guys could have some meal after working all night. It’s not much, but I hope it slightly helps”.

Jay’s eyes widened in surprise, “Seriously? You are an angel”, Jay kissed you on your forehead.

“I have to go now, my cab is waiting. You’ll be careful, right Jay?”, you inquire him again.

“I will. I’ll call you later, okay? Hope you have a great day!”, Jay gives you one last hug.

“Bye, Sergeant Platt!”, you wave to Trudy, who waves back with the breakfast wrap from you.

“That one is a keeper, Chuckles”, Trudy said to Jay. “Don’t I know it, Sergeant”, Jay noted.

Jay brings the paper bag of breakfast and coffee up to his unit. “I smell good coffee. And food. Why do you have coffee and food, Halstead?”, Adam looks hopefully at Jay.

“Because my girlfriend is a wonderful human being”, as Jay distributes the wrap and coffee. “I didn’t know you have a girlfriend”, Antonio gives his wrap a big bite. “Ooh, I’m so hungry. This tastes great! Thank your girlfriend for me, Halstead”.

Jay sits down to enjoy his breakfast and pulls out his phone to text you. I’m the popular guy at the office now since my girl brought food for us. The team owes you.

Not long before he receives your reply So I’m your girl, now?.

Jay loses a bit of his confidence, Too soon?, he texts back. 

We'll see after the dinner date, you vaguely reply.

It isn’t until almost evening, they finally close the case. Jay is doing his report when he hears Antonio saying out of nowhere, “La Sabrosa, great Cuban place near McKinley Park.” Jay ignores him since he's not sure who's Dawson talking to.

“Place looks good, quite intimate. No reservations needed, but there might be a waiting list if you come in the middle of dinner time, Halstead”, he continues. Jay pauses in confusion for a moment. “Upton said you’re looking for a restaurant for a first date”, Antonio simply explained. Jay glares at Hailey. She just puts her hands up apologetically.

“I’ll consider that. Thank you”, Jay simply says.

Next on this fic : Part 5

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries