#fuck you and your second amendment rights we do not need to adhere to these dumb ass founders beliefs
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school shootings were always my biggest fear as a student and now I still fear them as a teacher
#what could I say about this that I didn’t already say after parkland?#after sandy hook? after virginia tech? after columbine?#after the millions of other school shootings that didn’t get media coverage cause the death toll didn’t break a record#that’s the part that’s getting me#nowadays a shooting where only 2-3 victims doesn’t get any media coverage#but in any other country in the world this would spark national outrage BECAUSE ANYONE DYING IN SCHOOL IS NOT NORMAL!!!#but noooo in this country (ONLY country in the world where this regularly happens) there’s no way to prevent it#like are you american exceptionalists proud? we’re the school shooting capital of the world how amazing#all because we refuse to ban guns the blatantly obvious solution that has worked out for everyone else#fuck you and your second amendment rights we do not need to adhere to these dumb ass founders beliefs#what society adheres to rules from 300 years ago that were written by some of the most evil men in history they didn’t know SHIT#and anyways they themselves said that it needs to be well regulated but of course that part is ignored#dumbass politicians coming up with anything to ‘fix’ the problem besides banning automatic weapons#TED CRUZ IS SAYING DOORS ARE THE PROBLEM AND THAT THERE SHOULD ONLY BE ONE DOOR?? MF THAT IS A FIRE HAZARD#and they’re saying we need armed security as if the USELESS POLICE DID ANYTHING TO SAVE THOSE KIDS#‘only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy’ oh really? and what happens when that good guy also gets shot like in Buffalo?#and saying we need to secure schools like they’re prisons cause a metal detector is gonna stop a psycho with the intention to kill#all this security will just make Black kids kids with special needs kids of color and so many more feel even more unsafe#and let’s not forget the stupidest idea of them all ARMING TEACHERS????#teachers don’t get paid enough nor is it in their job description to KILL SCHOOL SHOOTERS#THAT IS THE POLICE’S JOB NOT OURS??? and this puts so many kids at risk too and teachers shouldn’t have to sacrifice themselves??#we can’t even get our lesson plans to go the way we planned them AND YOU WANT TO PUT A GUN IN A CLASSROOM?#i hate that the kids teachers and parents did more to protect each other than the people that get 40% of the city’s budget#all cause they were ‘scared’ well maybe you’re in the wrong line of work you coward pigs#and let me get started on the fact that we have an epidemic of murderous young boys that we have been ignoring since columbine#all of these shootings were committed by young adult men with incel white supremacist nazi ideologies#but sure let’s act like they did this because of bullying SHUT UP#men are literally the problem. like we need to be monitoring boys more instead of micromanaging our daughters#cause look at what kind of monsters they become#all of these violent video games and chat rooms where the most vile things are said is literally a pipeline to becoming an incel nazi
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I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 2
Post 1
Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)
Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, smut (IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN, DON'T READ!!!)
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One of the perks of being “enhanced” or in this case, a super soldier, is that you heal quickly. Within seventy-two hours, the bullet wound in his leg (not to mention the cut and black eye he sustained from several sharp blows to the face) and her matching one in the shoulder are almost completely healed, only a vague pink mark to show they were ever injured. The downside is-
“Do you want to punch sandbags until they fly off the hook, or run thirty miles around the compound first? I’ll start with whichever you don’t pick.” -they’re back to training as well.
He almost answers that he really doesn’t want to do either, it’s Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake, but it’s not like this is her first choice for what she could be doing this morning either, so he goes with-
“Punching things first. Think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, so I’d best get it out of my system.” She nods and, squeezing his arm, takes off at a jog.
“See you on the other side.”
His instinct is to tell her to take it easy, she lost a lot of blood the other day and who knows if there’s been some bone or muscular damage that hasn’t quite fixed itself yet, but again, he swallows it down and focuses on the task at hand. Namely, taking out his bad mood on a punching bag.
Usually, when his body is in motion, his mind is at least somewhat at rest, but this time around, the exertion is just adding fuel to the flames. He’s too pissed off to just zone out and concentrate on hitting the target, still too busy trying to process what the hell happened three nights ago.
It was their first mission together. She’s been on a few separate from him, and he and Sam get called out together on the regular. Stupidly, he assumed that, since her specialty is translating or gathering intel, maybe being the little voice in someone’s ear to direct them through a maze of assailants and twisting corridors her visions had allowed her a glimpse of ahead of time, she’d be out of the line of fire. At the very least, most of the attention would be on him and Sam. But no, she was the bogey. She drew fire while he waltzed through a military fortress, recapturing stolen tech. When Rhodey so much as mentioned that possibility, he should’ve told him no, hard no. If anyone’s drawing fire, it’s him. Still, in his arrogance, he assumed it wouldn’t come to that extreme. Sam’s good at his job, and as much as he hates the reason behind it, so is he. They should’ve been able to hold the line without her painting a target on her back.
That, of course leads to yet another issue. He’s also pissed at himself for instinctively seeing her as more fragile, something that needs to be protected. Even before the same chemicals running through his veins infected her, she’d proven that she’s a damn capable person. He knows that she’s smart, both strategically and academically. Add onto that the fact that she’s fast and strong, not to mention she has visions (less than helpful ones most of the time, but they have their moments), and she’s a powerful ally. He certainly wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And yet, when he saw that she’d been hit, his mind completely emptied. He wouldn’t have been able to remember which end of a gun to use if his life depended on it, because all he could think was, “Oh god. She’s hurt.” It’s old-fashioned, outdated. He should be past this mindset, at least when it comes to work. Out there, she’s his fellow soldier, not the woman he lies awake next to in bed, sometimes for hours, just to listen to her breath and know he’s not alone. Did Steve ever put Peggy in that box, he wonders? No, of course not, because Steve’s a better man than he ever was or will ever be. So yeah, he’s pissed off at himself.
And finally, although he can barely admit it to his own mind, he’s pissed off at her. Logically he knows it’s mostly fear, some primal instinct to protect what’s his, but every time he imagines her being shot, having a bullet pass by her lungs and arteries by a very narrow margin, and then telling Sam not to let him know that she was hit, it irks him. Did she think he’d come unhinged? Screw up? Or is she stuck in the mindset she seems to have adopted as a response to the last five years of “Screw looking after myself. It doesn’t matter.” A small part of him realizes that he didn’t call in either when he took a bullet, but that’s him! And, now he’s circling back to guilt for treating her like she’s weak.
All in all, he’s so damn furious that he doesn’t realize he’s no longer alone until she grabs hold of his arm just as he goes to swing again.
“Jesus, Bucky. I know you’re grouchy, but don’t you think destroying five punching bags in thirty minutes is enough? Save some aggression for the run.”
He looks up to tell her something (I’m sorry? Damn right I’m grouchy? Let me take you home and wrap you in blankets so that nothing will ever hurt you again?) and catches sight of her sweat-soaked face. He hates how far she takes things with the running. It’s like she’s trying to see what the limits are, how much she can punish her body before it gives out and she drops. That’s what it was in the very beginning after the snap. She’s told him that. Now he wonders if she’s really as recovered from everything that’s happened as she claims.
“Have you had anything to drink? Water, or-” She groans and reaches to detach the punching bag (there’s a decent sized rip in it where he was hitting it over and over), making her shirt ride up. Her clothes were already so tight that just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was making it hard to think, but now they’re completely adhered to her in a way that’s nearly obscene thanks to all the sweat. Dammit. Think about something else. He needs to think about something else.
“Yes, I’m on my second water bottle, thank you Barnes. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Just self-destructive.” It slips out before he can stuff it down. Her mouth falls open in shock momentarily, but then she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes.
“You’re one to talk. Always running straight towards the fire instead of putting it out first.”
“That’s my job.”
“It’s your hangup.” She laughs bitterly. “Bucky Barnes, the big, bad Winter Soldier. You’ve decided you’re so fucked up that the only way you can make amends is to run headlong towards whatever’s trying to kill you, without backup I might add, and keep to your mission no matter what your personal damage is.”
“Says the woman who took a bullet and stopped Sam from announcing that you’re hit.” They’re teetering closer and closer to a fight with every nearly snarled word, but he’s powerless to stop it. In fact, he’s ready to go. Have it out. But not right now, because-
“Hey.” He catches her arm just as she starts to hoist another punching bag onto the hook. “Be careful! You’re still healing.” -she’s hellbent on hurting herself. Again.
She whirls around as if he’s slapped her.
“Oh my god. You have to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop treating me like I’m going to break!” Her voice is shrill, rising higher and higher with each syllable. “I love you, but you are driving me insane. I am not your child-”
“No, you’re the person I want to marry!” He takes a deep breath, preparing to follow up with, “-and you keep acting like you have a death wish”, but before he can-
“You won’t even fuck me anymore!” Immediately, her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth.
If her declaration surprised her, it absolutely stunned him so, not quite sure what else to do, he takes a few steps back and sits down. A few seconds pass before she approaches and, with a heavy sigh, sinks down next to him.
“Bucky, I am so sorry. I don’t know where any of this is coming from-”
“I think you do, Doll.” Her eyes dart nervously between his face and the floor. On instinct, he reaches over and takes her hand. “And so do I.” He takes a few moments to rearrange his thoughts before pushing ahead. “A lot has changed since-”
“The world ended. We lost. And then we won.” He nods.
“Yeah, and I don’t think either of us have quite wrapped our heads around it. I know I haven’t.”
It’s silent for a moment, and then, voice trembling, she tells him,
“After you went away, I was completely lost. Didn’t know why I had to stay. What kind of cruel trick is it, just when everything was starting to go right-” He finally had the poison of HYDRA sucked out of him, she’d found a safe place where she didn’t have to run and hide because of something she was born with, he’d worked up the nerve to ask her if she’d maybe one day be his wife. “-and then it’s wiped out? You finally went somewhere I couldn’t follow.” He still can’t imagine what those five years must’ve been like, not just for her, but everyone else who survived the snap. “I didn’t want to keep going. But I had to.” She chuckles. “Steve wouldn’t let me throw in the towel.”
A smile forms on his own face. “Yeah, he had a habit of doing that.”
“I guess…” She sighs. “I don’t know. I got harder, rougher around the edges. I thought I could just go back to normal once everyone came back-”
“But old habits die hard.” It’s not a question, but she nods.
“Yeah, and as much as I chip away at it, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to who I was before.”
“You won’t.” She peers up at him, eyes wide in shock, maybe a hint of sadness. “I can tell you that right now from experience. You won’t go back, but-” He’s had a lot of time to consider this, so he can say it and absolutely believe it. “-I love the girl that’s here now. She’s pretty amazing, rough edges and all.”
She’s sitting so close. He could pull her into his lap, just hold her for a minute. So, that’s what he does, and just like the first time, they fit together perfectly, like she was made to fit in his arms, or maybe he was made to hold her. Either way, it leaves no doubt in his mind that they belong together.
“You changed. Everyone does. You got stronger and tougher, because that’s who you had to be. And I wasn’t there to change with you.” He can feel her shoulders shake, and even though she’s facing away from him, he knows she’s fighting back tears. “But I’m gonna catch up. It’s just taking me a while to get it through my thick skull that my girl’s a badass, and I need to ease off the bodyguard routine a little.” There. That’s more like it. A laugh, even if it’s a small one. “I just worry about you, is all. I don’t know how to stop it, and I’m not sure I can, but I’m working on it.”
“I worry about you too, you know.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with her hand. “I’m fucking terrified because, now that I’m like you, I know what your limits are. I’m scared you’ll forget them, or you’ll ignore them because you’re trying to be a good man.” She cranes her head, meeting his gaze. “But you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. You never stopped being one, no matter what you think.”
“I think your picture of me might be more flattering than who I really am.”
“Shut up.” She presses her palm over his mouth. “I have visions, so seeing is never my problem. And it’s not the way I’m picturing you. We’ve known each other long enough for the shine to wear off.” Never. It’ll never be possible for him to know her so long that she’s not absolutely golden from where he’s standing. “It’s who you’ve shown me you are. And if the rest of the world doesn’t see it, that’s their problem. Not yours.”
He’s not sure if he buys all that, but it’s enough that she does. She sees him as that man, so he’ll try every day of his life to be just that.
“Come on.” Gently pushing her off of him, he stands and offers her his hand. “That’s enough training for today. We’re still wounded.”
She chuckles. “Is that your excuse for calling it early?”
He nods, barely suppressing a grin. “That, and you’ve gotta change into something that doesn’t fit you like a second skin before my brain permanently short-circuits.”
“Showers, then?”
“Showers.”
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The compound sustained heavy damage thanks to Thanos crashing a ship into it, but in the past few months (helped along by Pepper’s billions and the entire galaxy’s appreciation towards the Avengers in equal parts), enough repairs have been done to make it partially usable. In this case, the locker room. Just the one, though. Which, of course means co-ed showers.
She won’t admit it, but she’s particularly appreciative of that little detail today. As she circled the compound on her last lap, she saw that the only two cars there are hers and Barnes. They’re the only two people here, and she fully intends to use that to her advantage.
“Join me? I don’t want to overextend my shoulder trying to wash my hair or back.” It’s a blatant lie, and from his expression, she can tell that he knows it too. But, he nods.
“Yeah, doll. I can do that.” Part one of the plan has been executed beautifully. Onward to part two.
She purposely leaves the travel sized bottles of shampoo and body wash on the floor so that, after rinsing off for far longer than is really necessary, she has to bend over to retrieve them. If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she’d completely miss the sharp intake of breath in response to her little show, but she catches it and can’t help grinning to herself. Part two: get him as worked up as she is. So far, so good.
The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, working the shampoo through her hair, is almost enough to make her forget that she’s a woman on a mission. Almost. As soon as she’s rinsed the soap out of her face, she turns to him.
“Your turn. Bend.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and as always, she has to fight back a laugh as he inclines his head towards her, the entirety of his hair falling forward to cover his face. “This used to take a lot longer before you decided to chop it all off.” He chuckles, eyes closed against the soap.
“What can I say? Seventy-three years without a haircut is my limit.” She can’t blame him, and although it was a shock at first, she’s come to like this new look. It makes him look…younger, somehow. More boyish. Like his life hasn’t contained as many horrors as they both know full well it has.
“You checking for lice or something?”
“Huh?” That jerks her out of her sentimental daze. “Looks like you’re clear.”
There’s no way to put it politely. She’s straight up ogling him as he rinses off. Five damn years…
“Ready to get your back?” And, she just got caught staring.
“Sure.”
His hands are gentle, putting as little pressure on her injured shoulder as possible, growing firmer as they work down her back. She holds her breath as she feels his palms ghost over the swell of her ass, but then he’s back to safer territory. At least, that’s what she thinks until the metal arm snakes around her chest, just below her breasts, holding her in place. His free hand runs down from her sternum to her middle, stopping just above her hips, then- fuck. Nothing. He’s backing away.
“Do you need help with your legs?” No, what she needs help with is located between them. Suddenly, the shower feels far too hot, and she’s desperate to cool off.
“That’s okay.” Her voice is shaky, and she mentally berates herself as she steps under the spray, rinsing away the soap.
She’s not at all sure that her excuse for leaving the shower and going to towel off made any sense, but with a few feet between them, she’s able to breath again. Alright, scratch the whole “shower seduction” idea. It wasn’t that great to begin with. She gets him as hot and bothered as she is, and then what? Shower sex is a slippery affair, and plus there’s the height difference… in the steamed up mirror, she catches sight of him climbing out of the shower and toweling off. Fuck it. What does she have to lose?
“Come here.” As he turns around, she hops up on the counter top (thank fuck Stark went all out and got the sinks that can easily hold the weight of an adult), allowing her towel to slip further down her chest.
She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit down to her cleavage before settling back on her face as he stands in front of her.
“Yeah, Doll?”
“Let me get your hair. You’ll never get it dry yourself.” She’s really running low on excuses, but if she plays her cards right, she won’t have to keep up this ruse for much longer.
“You know-” She murmurs against his ear as she starts working a towel over his tousled locks, “-if you don’t take me right now, I’m gonna be really offended.”
His head snaps up, and she nearly drops the towel.
“Well, I can’t let that happen, can I?”
She has a smart-ass remark all planned out, but then his lips are pressed against hers, hard, insistent, and her brain completely empties of anything other than pure need. She’s not completely sure how, but somehow the towel wrapped around her torso (it’s so short, it didn’t even cover her ass sitting down) disappears, leaving them chest to chest, both still slightly damp from the shower. On instinct, her legs wrap around his back, bringing them so close together she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh.
“The floor, or-” It’s murmured against her ear between nibbles.
“No. Here.” It’s all she can do to hold back a moan as his whole body rumbles with quiet laughter.
“Someone’s eager.”
She leans back far enough to peer into his eyes.
“And you’re not?” The response is a thumb against her clit, and she has to bite down hard on his shoulder to muffle a yelp.
“If I’d known you were ready, you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past two months.” That would’ve been a very small price to pay.
Five years is a long time, and her body tenses up at the intrusion of his finger inside of her, but she immediately forces her muscles to relax, and within seconds, it’s all she can do not to writhe against him.
“That’s it. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” It’s a lost cause. This is going to be noisy. She hazily thinks to herself that it’s all his fault.
He’s always been one for foreplay, making sure she’ll be comfortable once they actually get around to the main event, but finally enough is enough and, reaching between them, she stills his wrist.
“Get inside me.”
“Are you sure? You’re still tight-” Disentangling one of her arms from around his neck, she gives his hair a sharp tug.
“I’m like you now, remember? You’re not going to break me.”
He pulls back from her, hesitating, eyes darting between her face and the door.
“What?”
“I don’t have-” Oh. She quickly runs the calculations in her head. Given which day of the month it is, the likelihood would be-
“It’ll be fine. Just pull out.” To her relief, he doesn’t argue.
Her breath catches as he pushes inside of her, and if the panting against her neck is anything to judge from, she’s not the only one affected.
“It’s been too damn long.” Despite the situation (or perhaps because of it), she laughs breathlessly.
“You think it’s been too long? Try five fucking years!” His laugh tickles her neck.
“You’re never gonna stop using that one, are you?”
“Nope. I think I’ve earned the right.” After all, he constantly reminds her that he had to wait 98 years to meet the love of his life, so fair is fair.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
“Sounds like you just set yourself a challenge.”
“Guess I’d better get to work then.” As he says it, he pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in again.
It’s primal, the way their bodies move together, desperate for a connection that’s been missing for so long. There’s no room or need for words to be spoken; their gasped breaths and strangled moans say it all. His hand sneaks between them, toying with her nub, and that’s what sends her over the edge. It’s the tipping point for him too because, muffling his cries against her shoulder, he pulls out just in time.
“We shoulda done that before the shower.” She’s still gasping for breath, but it forces a laugh from her. He follows suit, offering her a spare towel to clean herself up.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He shoots her a questioning look as she hops down on shaky legs. “I thought it was good before, but damn.”
He laughs, pulling on his jeans. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the bed. I’m a gentleman like that.” She knows the real concern was her safety, but if she concentrates on that too hard, she’ll start going mushy, and in this instance, crying after sex seems like it would kill the mood.
“You know-” She pulls her t shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. “-I never really liked the bed I have now anyway.” It’s also really too small for two full-grown adults to share comfortably.
Sliding his duffle bag over his shoulder, he takes her hand. “Then maybe we should go home? Give you an excuse to get a new one?” Before she can answer-
“Go home. Please, I’m begging you, for the love of god, go.” Her eyes dart towards the source of the noise. The door, or more specifically, the other side of it. “Hearing you and the bionic man fucking once was enough. I’m gonna shoot you both and then myself if I have to listen to round two.”
Bucky catches her eye and mouths “Oops!”, sending her into a fit of giggles.
“You know Sam, you could’ve just walked away. You didn’t have to wait outside the door like a creep.” She has to bite her fist to keep from laughing out loud.
“Yeah, trust me. I could hear you from all the way down the hall.”
“Sorry.” She gasps it out between bouts of laughter, and she must be pulling a funny face, because he snickers to.
“No, you’re not.” No, she really isn’t. Just that they got caught.
“We’re heading out. You’ve got the place to yourself.” Giving his hand a tug, she pulls open the door, revealing a flustered Sam.
“I hope you remembered to wipe down the counter, you nasties!”
As they make their way down the corridor, Bucky calls out,
“See you Monday?”
“Yeah. And you’d better be wearing pants!”
#marvel#captain america#the winter soldier#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#post endgame#smut#part 2
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Something Just Like This Chapter 13/?
Rating: Mature (For Later Chapters)
Notes: The idea of how Cat and Carter communicate when he's stressed is lifted shamelessly from @unicyclehippo's wonderful fic Carter Grant, Super Sleuth which you should absolutely go read as it is one of the classics of SuperCat fandom, and a wonderful story.
(Also, I have edited one line for clarity since this was originally posted.)
Read at Ao3
Start at the Beginning
Cat and Carter have a talk about her new relationship.
Chapter 13 - Concern
Cat felt a moment of déjà vu as she walked towards the front door. Four nights earlier, she’d been nervous because it was her first date with Kara. Today, she was nervous for a far different reason. What she had with Kara was turning out to be everything she’d hoped for, but it could all come crashing to an end in just a few minutes, because she was about to tell Carter about it. She’d told Kara that this couldn’t continue if it wasn’t okay with him, and Kara had whole heartedly agreed with that. Which made Cat love her that much more and made her that much more afraid of how much it would hurt if Carter reacted poorly.
She took a deep breath as she opened the door. Anthony stood there next to Carter, but she ignored him and bent down, smiling at her son.
“Hey,” she said, reigning in her desire to reach out and hug him. Carter was pretty good with it normally, but he was always a little skittish about physical contact after spending time at his father’s. It was one of the reasons she stayed angry with Anthony almost constantly. She wasn’t perfect herself. She sometimes forgot to check in with him before she hugged him if she was scared, like she’d been after the train incident, but Anthony completely disregarded Carter’s normal shyness about physical contact. It was also one of the reasons she was so stunned at how Carter had taken to Kara during the babysitting incident.
“Hey, Mom,” Carter said in a subdued tone. She had to fight to keep from frowning. Something was off.
“Why don’t you go inside,” she said. “I’ll be in in just a minute.”
Carter nodded and slipped past her, his head down and his shoulders slumped, and Cat felt the anger burning in her. She stamped it down, determined not to have a blow up on today of all days. She stood up and looked at Anthony.
“Let’s go inside,” he said. “We need to talk.”
Cat reached up and placed her hand in the center of his chest, and pushed, forcing him back so that she could step out into the hall and close the door behind her.
“I have a feeling this isn’t a conversation I want Carter to overhear.”
“Then you should have thought about that before you splashed it across every gossip column in the country.”
“Anthony, as always, your mouth is moving, and you’re making noise, but nothing meaningful is being added to the conversation,” Cat said, but she felt a cloud of cold dread envelop her, because he could only possibly be talking about one thing. She hadn’t checked the headlines that morning. Between worrying about how Carter was going to take the news that she and Kara were dating, and day dreaming about the three dates they’d been on so far, she hadn’t had time, but it was starting to sound like that was a mistake.
“You’re not really going to stand there and pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he replied.
“I have some notion of what you might be talking about, but hope I'm wrong. My opinion of myself might never recover if it turns out I was such a poor judge of character that I married such a small, narrow minded little man. So please, enlighten me.”
“It’s all over the news, Cat. You’re fucking your secretary. What’s her name? Karen, or Christie or Katy?”
Cat raised her index finger in warning. “First, Kara hasn’t been my assistant in months. Second, I don’t see how who I date is any of your concern.”
“Oh, please,” Anthony said. “If you wanna get a piece on the side, that’s your business, but letting the help sleep their way to the top is beneath you. And taking her out in public. Really? What were you thinking?”
Cat stared at him for a moment, wondering what she’d ever seen in him. Of course, she knew the answer. He’d been kind and attentive when she was at a low point. Adam’s father had just gotten married, and he’d asked her to sign the paperwork so his wife could legally adopt Adam. And as husbands go, Anthony wasn’t the worst she’d had, but that was a fairly low bar. He’d always been a little selfish. A trait which had only gotten worse once she’d gotten pregnant, and which gave her a clue about why he was so upset.
“You should really thank me, Anthony,�� she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “After all, this just proves you weren’t responsible for the failure of our marriage. No one could expect it to last, since I’m just a frigged little lesbian ice queen.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a bitch.”
“Oh, why not? That’s what you’re really worried about, isn’t it? Everyone saying I switched because you couldn’t perform.”
“I’m worried about my son.”
“That’s funny. You weren’t worried about your son a few weeks ago when Kara was the one to ride every roller coaster at Six Flags with him, because you were off fucking your… What did you call it? Oh, yes. Your ‘piece on the side.’”
“That’s not fair.”
“Not fair? You want to talk about ‘not fair’? Not fair is seeing the disappointment on *my* son’s face every time his so-called father fails to show up. Not fair is having *my* son ask me why his father doesn’t love him. If there’s something wrong with him, or if he did something to make you hate him. That’s not fair.”
“I have found someone who cares about me, and who cares about *my* son enough to actually show up when she promises too. If you care about your son, then you can take the hit to your pathetic ego. If you can’t, I can have my lawyers draw up termination of parental rights paperwork. But if you ever say one negative word about Kara in front of Carter, I promise you, we will revisit the divorce decree, and this time I won’t hold back.”
“Cat-”
“We’re done,” Cat said, cutting him off. “If you take issue with the fact that my twenty-six-year-old girlfriend is a better parent to your child than you are, I suggest you take a good, hard look in the mirror.”
Without giving him a chance to reply, Cat opened the door to her apartment and stepped inside, closing it as quietly as possible, and locking it. She took a deep breath, wishing she could take a few minutes and review the news coverage, but she’d already wasted too much time on someone who’s opinion didn’t matter. She needed to be with her son.
She pushed off the door and headed into the apartment. A quick glance told her Carter wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, which was a bad sign. It meant he was in his bedroom. She headed down the hall, pausing a moment to pick up her tablet before knocking softly on his door.
There was no answer, then then, she hadn’t really expected one. She lifted her tablet and opened her chat app.
‘Carter, sweetie, can I come in?’ she sent.
‘Yeah,’ he replied.
Cat opened the door and stepped into Carter’s room. He was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, looking at his tablet. Cat pulled the chair from his desk over next to his bed and sat down.
‘Hey,’ she sent. She sat patiently, watching as he worked on the tablet for a while, forcing herself not to reach out and touch him like she ached to. She waited, knowing he needed time and space to feel safe, so she gave it to him. She spent the time pulling up the gossip sites, not at all surprised to find imagines of her and Kara at the theater on Thursday night, and a few from the Art Gallery Cat had taken Kara to Friday. She sat quietly for almost half an hour, reading all the nasty comments about her love life on TMZ, until Carter sent her another message.
‘Are you dating Kara?’ he asked, not looking up from what he was doing.
‘Yes,’ she sent back. She was silent for a few minutes, waiting for his response as she browsed the somewhat kinder comments on CatCo’s entertainment and celebrity website.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked after about five minutes.
‘It’s new,’ Cat sent back. ‘We were just friends for a while. I wanted there to be more, but I didn’t think she would feel the same, but we had a conversation on Tuesday. I didn’t mean to say anything, but we were both upset about something that happened at the office, and I said something that let her figure out how I feel. We talked more on Wednesday, and she told me she felt the same way. We only went out for the first time Thursday night, but we’ve been on three dates so far.’
Carter didn’t look up from his tablet and she was careful not to look directly at him, instead watching out of the corner of her eye. She was used to this. It was how he coped when the conversation was too intense. When they communicated through the chat app, he could focus on something else, and let it process in the background. It drove his father nuts, which was one of the things she and Anthony fought about when it came to Carter. Anthony thought she coddled him, and Cat thought Anthony had no respect for Carter’s special needs. Under the terms of the amended and very detailed custody agreement, Anthony was required to adhere to the recommendations of Carter’s therapist, but Cat worried every time Carter left with him.
‘So you didn’t tell me because I was at Dad’s?’ Carter sent
‘Yes. I was planning on talking to you about it today,’ Cat sent back.
Carter hunched forward a bit more, curling in on himself. Cat recognized the signs. He was trying to screw up his courage. For a moment, Cat worried that everything was going to come crashing down, and she was going to have to choose her son over Kara. The outcome was a foregone conclusion, of course, but it would hurt so very much.
‘I don’t want to see dad anymore,’ Carter sent.
Cat let out the breath she’d been holding, waiting for the axe to fall. It only took a second for the dread to be replaced with ice cold fury.
‘Did something happen?’ she asked.
Carter curled up a bit tighter, and Cat knew she’d asked the wrong question, and started typing quickly.
‘Sweetie, if you don’t want to go back, you don’t have too,’ she sent. While she waited, she gripped her tablet in her hands to keep from reaching out to him.
Carter uncurled a bit, and Cat breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him relax. ‘Good,’ he replied.
‘I just want to understand. That’s all.’
Carter nodded, but still didn’t look up. ‘I like Kara. I think she’s nice,’ he sent.
‘So do I,’ Cat sent back.
It was a few minutes before Carter replied. ‘Dad doesn’t like her.’
Cat could see it perfectly in her head. How the whole thing unfolded. Anthony had come across the coverage that morning. Then, like he always did, he forgot Carter existed, and said something horrible about Kara, or her, or both of them, while Carter was within ear shot. Probably mouthing off to whichever younger model he was seeing currently. Cat had trouble keeping track, which is why she had a private investigator who vetted everyone her ex-husband dated.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Cat sent. ‘I’ll go call Elizabeth, and we’ll see about getting it set so you don’t have to go back to your Dad’s unless you decide you want to. Then, I’ll make us some lunch. How does that sound?’
“Do you think Kara could come visit?” Carter asked out loud, making Cat smile.
“We’ll see,” Cat said. “If she’s not busy, I’ll bet she’d like that.”
***
“How are you doing?” Kara asked Carter.
“Better,” Carter replied. “Thanks for coming over.”
Cat stopped just outside the doorway to the game room, not wanting to interrupt the moment between her son and Kara.
“I wish I could say anytime, but you know my job keeps me really busy,” Kara said. “But I promise, if you ever really need me, I will do everything I can to be here for you and your mom.”
“Really?” Carter asked.
“Really,” Kara said. “I mean, you obviously know how special I think your mom is.”
“Yeah,” Carter said. “You always get mushy face when you look at her.”
“Mushy face?” Kara said. “I do not!”
“You totally do! Even the first time you took care of me, you’d get the same dopy face she gets when she looks at you.”
“You couldn’t have told me this a year ago?” Kara said.
“Mom says it’s not nice to tell people when they’re being stupid,” Carter said.
Kara laughed. “Your mom said that?”
“I know, right,” Carter replied.
Cat couldn’t help but grin, just a little.
“The thing is, even if you and your mom didn’t come as a set, which you guys totally do, I’d still want to hang around with you. You’re pretty awesome yourself.”
“You don’t have to say that,” Carter said.
“It’s true though,” Kara said. “Didn’t you help Supergirl on the train?”
“You were just giving me busy work, Kara,” Carter said.
Cat’s breath caught in her throat a little bit at hearing her son say that, but to her surprise, Kara just chuckled.
“What gave it away?” she asked.
“The Scar,” Carter said.
“Just don’t tell me the glasses are a stupid disguise, okay?” Kara said.
“Sore subject?”
“One of my sister’s friend figured it out in, like, five minutes,” Kara replied.
“Well, just because I’m not saying it doesn’t make it untrue.”
Cat had to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“You’re as bad as your mother, who can totally stop eavesdropping and come in now,” Kara said.
Cat rolled her eyes and stepped around the corner, smiling at the sight of Carter and Kara sitting next to each other.
“What gave me away?” Cat asked.
“What didn’t?” Kara said. “I smelled the pizza and your perfume, and I heard your heartbeat and your breathing.”
“No seeing her through the wall?” Carter asked.
“Nope,” Kara said. “Leaded glass lenses. Trust me, X-Ray vision is not something you want use accidently. I have seen things.” She gave a dramatic shudder.
Cat sat the pizza down on the table, next to where Carter and Kara had set up Small World. They were both a little frustrated after Cat had beat them two games in a row at Settlers of Catan and opted for a switch in games.
“Do I even want to know what the story is there?” Cat said as she sat down.
“Let’s just say no one involved still works at CatCo and leave it at that,” Kara said. “Are you okay with this?”
“With Carter having figured out your secret identity?” Cat asked.
“Yeah,” Kara said.
“I’m actually a little miffed he didn’t think to share the information with his mom if he figured it out that quickly,” Cat said, giving Carter a mock glare.
“How long did it take you do figure it out?” Carter asked.
“The email leak,” Cat said. “Though I had my suspicions after the Earth Quake. You seem to be taking Carter figuring things out a lot more gracefully than you did when I figured it out.”
Kara just smiled at her and reached down, picking her purse up off the floor. “Carter can’t fire me because he things I should be Supergirl full time,” she said. Cat felt a little guilty at the words, but Kara’s tone was light and teasing. “Besides, I was going to check with you first to make sure it was okay that he knew, but I already planned on telling him. I sat down and had a long talk with J’onn after our first date. He agreed with me that it would be hard to explain where these came from without telling Carter the truth.” She took two long, narrow boxes out of her purse, and handed them to Cat.
Cat took them and immediately spotted her name on one box, and Carter’s name on the other. She opened the one with her name on it and was immediately taken aback. The watch she was staring out was exquisite. She didn’t recognize the designer, but it was the design was simple and elegant. It wasn’t until she noticed at in place of the usual numbers or Roman numerals, there was symbols she didn’t recognize that she understood what she was looking at, and when she tilted the watch to get a better look, she caught sight of Supergirl’s emblem etched very finely into the crystal.
“The numbers are Kryptonian,” Kara said, blushing a little. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and have them changed.”
“No!” Cat said, clutching the box firmly in hand.
Kara smiled at her even wider, obviously pleased. “They are more practical than they look,” she said. “Press the crown in.”
Cat looked down at the watch as she pressed in the knob on the side, and the face swung up, revealing a button shaped like Supergirl’s symbol set in below what looked like a speaker grill.
Carter reached over and took the box with his name on it, opening it reverently. Cat smiled approvingly as she saw that his watch was less a piece of fine jewelry, and something more appropriate to a teenage boy who happened to be a huge Supergirl fan. The watch itself was in the classic diamond shape of Supergirl’s symbol, with a sturdy band that looked like leather. The red, yellow and blue symbol was set into the face, and when he pressed in the knob, the face swung up revealing a similar beacon to the one in her watch.
“It’s a distress beacon,” Kara said. She looked over at Carter, and Cat saw her put on her Supergirl face. “These are for emergencies only.”
Carter nodded. “I understand,” he said solemnly.
“I hope it’s okay,” Kara said, her voice a little timid, making Cat turn to look at her. “I was afraid it might be a little too much too soon, but I just… I want to be there if either of you ever need me.”
Cat reached out and took her hand.
“Thank you,” Cat said, and she meant it. The watches might not be engagement rings, and Cat was under no illusions that they were that far along in their relationship, but the meaning was clear, all the same.
On the same day when Carter’s father had reminded her that neither of them were ever anything more to him that status symbols to prop up his reputation and ego, Kara was claiming them as family.
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Hump day Treadmill Treats We need tougher gun laws Yesterday after I posted that I thought no one but our armed forces needed a gun that shoots off 100 rounds in 10 seconds. I and a bunch of my friends got inundated by a former high school friend, who went off the deep end cursing at us, calling us pussys and snowflakes...whatever the fuck that means. Well sir...and I use that term loosely, very loosely... this is for you and your militant friends like you, out there. You had no idea my views on guns or the 2nd amendment, yet you chose to go off on me and my friends. Let me tell you something, I never once said we should take away our right to bear arms, I have always had guns. I learned to shoot at 13, I went hunting with my high school sweetheart, I taught my girls gun safety and how to shoot, as soon as they were old enough. Yes, I beleive in the 2nd amendment, that everyone should have that right, if they choose to. My grievance is with a gun that shoots a 100 rounds a minute, my fight is for tougher gun laws for people having them or selling them, longer prison sentences, taking more of them off the streets so that a tragedy like this doesn't happen again. I want background checks and people who are mentally unstable to not be able to get a gun...wow is that so much to ask for? Do you know the gun laws in Nevada? Yeah me either, it was scary as hell: Nevada law does not require firearms owners to have licenses or register their weapons, nor does it limit the number of firearms an individual posses. Automatic assault weapons and machine guns are also legal in the state as long as they are registered and possessed in adherence to federal law, according to the National Rifle Association. Nevada does not prohibit the transfer or possession of assault weapons, 50-caliber rifles or large-capacity ammunition magazines. Local law enforcement issues concealed handgun licenses. Open carry is legal without a permit. But Nevada is not the only state that have these crazy "laws" there are many other states that also have lost their minds about guns as well. Does this sound sane? Wait...sorry that was a rhetorical question to you... after your rant.. I'm not saying take away guns, I am saying do the responsible thing here. Do I mind waiting 7 days to get a gun, no why should I, I am not planning on killing anyone in the heat of the moment. Do I mind a background checks? No, I have nothing to hide. If I was mentally unstable I wouldn't want you to give me a gun either If I wanted to carry, do I mind going to a course or filling out tons of paper work? No, if I want it, I will do what is required of me. If I wasn't allowed to have a barn full of guns would I be upset, Hello.. who the hell needs a barn full of guns?? Let's get a grip people, this is not about taking away your rights, it's about enforcing safety in our nation. It's about not allowing this to happen again and if this makes me or my friends "snowflakes" Because we obviously care about human rights more than gun rights, well then so be it! This is still America and for now... as long as we are still a free country, I will voice my opinion. You don't get to call me or my friends names because we don't agree with your point of views, leave the name calling to "your" President. So today my friends, I sincerely apologize for the behavior of this and other people like him that viciously attacked you on my page, it hurts my heart knowing we can't speak our minds anymore without someone attacking our character. I will continue to speak out about the injustices in our world and I will continue to delete small minded, racist, non compassionate people off my page and out of my life...take these hateful rants somewhere else...I have no room for them or you in my life... I am here to preach love, to preach compassion, to preach that we can all change into better people and until you decide to change...you gotta go. "Be the change you want to see" "And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly" ***Now available*** My book "The blessing in Disguise" Selling on my website: Http://www.treadmilltreats.com And on Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_13?qid=1462358109&sr=1-13&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=the+blessing+in+Disguise http://www.am6azon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_12?qid=1434452632&sr=8-12&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=the+Blessing+in+Disguise My weekly Youtube page, please subscribe: https://youtu.be/LDSXCFJVnzM Twitter: treadmill treats Instragram: treadmilltreats Facebook :treadmill treats Meduim:treadmill treats Pintrest: treadmill treats Google+: treadmill treats
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Fundamentalism is Not Just the Game of Despots and Morons
I first read Atlas Shrugged when I was in my thirties. I really was enthralled by it. It was around the same time I saw Pixar's The Incredibles. The idea that they were, indeed, people of superior qualities being held back by the mediocrity of mass expectation was pretty juicy especially considering, as a white, college-educated, male, I was exactly who these messages were designed for.
I immediately went and grabbed a copy of The Fountainhead and, as an artist with disdain for the conformity of popular commerce, was again, completely enthralled. It was as if I had hit upon that missing Rite of Passage that so many young, white males had gone through when they were in their twenties.
I mean, I like railroads! I hate the System!! Howard Roarke - an individualist architect who won't compromise his art? John Galt - an individualist who sticks it to the Man by subverting things? Holy Shit and Gimme Some Butter Sauce with THAT Lobster!!
I wanted to talk about the ideas that Rand had put out there -
My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute. — Ayn Rand, Appendix to Atlas Shrugged
Sounds good to me! Granted, I wove her philosophy within my own basic construct - that altruism for its own sake was a load of shit, that we self sacrifice for selfish reasons, but that both altruism and self sacrifice are societally good and necessary things. We recycle for the same basic reason we buy an iPhone or donate to WBEZ - so we can brag about it. I mean, what's wrong with productive achievement, right? Reason as the replacement for superstition?
For a period of about six months, I read all that I could about her philosophy of Objectivism. And, true to form, instead of really examining the philosophy, I fit it into my pre-existing belief in equality and freedom and personal responsibility. It drove my second ex-wife crazy because all I wanted to talk about was Ayn Rand.
Rand was a passionate individualist. She wrote in praise of "the men of unborrowed vision," who live by the judgment of their own minds, willing to stand alone against tradition and popular opinion.
Her philosophy of Objectivism rejects the ethics of self-sacrifice and renunciation. She urged men to hold themselves and their lives as their highest values, and to live by the code of the free individual: self-reliance, integrity, rationality, productive effort.
Objectivism celebrates the power of man's mind, defending reason and science against every form of irrationalism. It provides an intellectual foundation for objective standards of truth and value.
Wow. "The power of man's mind." "Self Reliance. Integrity. Rationality. Productive Effort." "Stand alone against tradition and popular opinion."
Christ, this shit was EXACTLY what I wanted to hear!
And then I started to really digest what she was espousing. That making money was, in and of itself, a creative act as if being a banker or an oil magnate was the same as creating art. That the world was essentially one of two classes - the creators and the consumers. That the governments only purpose was to pave the way for only those deemed financial creators rather than lift everyone to that status.
And that was also when I started seeing that Objectivist Randians were no different than Fundamentalist Christians, Fundamentalist Political Activists, or Fundamentalist Movements of any kind. Take a book of fiction (or academia), read into the ideas that appeal most to them, and shape society in an ideology that most fits their existing worldview. If blind belief in an Ism isn't EXACTLY antithetical to the ideas of "...the power of man's mind...standing alone against tradition...rationality..." then what the fuck was it?
Oh, but that Kool-Aid was so thirst-quenching, huh?
As an older person, I now try to approach all new isms with a sense of nuance because, in my experience, any sense of infallibility in political ideology is like a cotton candy ball spun from sugar and batshit.
I also understand that human beings and interactions with them are filled to the edge with contradictions. Fundamentalist belief is predicated on the All or Nothing mentality. Either you accept all of a given dogma or your belief is impure and wrong.
Not being a fundamentalist anything, I can both believe in and support that #BlackLivesMatter AND that #AllLivesMatter and be perfectly fine with that. I can support the Second Amendment right to a regulated militia AND believe strongly in comprehensive gun control. I can hold that abortion is an awful thing AND still support a woman's right to choose it as an option.
I notice when my friends have suddenly "found" a new perspective that is so compelling that, without much real skeptical analysis, start proslytizing this new bombshell to all. When a woman I know suddenly becomes hardcore in her extreme misandry or someone suddenly realizes that gentrification of previously non-white neighborhoods is as evil as Nazism, I can sense the hyperbolic zealotry of a fundamentalist. When I hear a dude whose partner dumped for another spout off about "all women," I know the blind adherence I'm witnessing. Fundamentalist epiphany paints everything with a giant paintroller, so when I hear someone start barking about categories ("men," "immigrants," "blacks," "cops") I know that I need to patiently listen and wear a poncho to avoid the spew of histrionic nonsense.
I've had good, smart people accuse me of racism because I am a white host of a national broadcast story slam series without a hint of thought behind it because the orthodoxy of racial politics dictates that ANYTHING a white man does is wrong. Which really boils down to being accused of racism because I'm white.
My answer to that was (and continues to be) that as a white person living in a fundamentally racist system designed to give me an advantage, I AM a racist. I can't escape that fact. Whether I like it or not, the institutional racism baked into our society benefits me. However, in spite of any prejudices I may have, I hope I'm not a bigot in any way and I hope any attempts I make to proffer that benefit to those with more melinin aren't met with mistrust.
I've seen isms take over ordinarily reasonable people and create the kind of people who only watch FOX News and stopped thinking long ago. But each ism has something to offer if you can eliminate the need to belong to a tribe and can parse out the usable from the destructive:
I like the part of the Bible that tells us to Love Our Neighbors, Do Unto Others, and Feed the Poor. Not so much in favor of all the rules of morality, though.
I like the part of the Communist Manifesto that tells us to abolish Economic Classes. Not so much a fan of the idea of forced collectization or all instruments of production being controlled by the State.
I like the part of the Capitalist Dogma that tells us Fair Competition Makes Better Production. The planks of the platform that proliferate the hoarding of wealth and the cut throat nature of competition do not float my boat.
And I like the ideas of Self Reliance, Integrity and Rationality in Objectivism. But Ayn Rand was a fucking sociopathic looney until she recanted most of Objectivism at the end of her life.
The thing is one does NOT have to be stupid to fall into this trap. Humans like things in Black and White, Good and Evil. Recognizing the complexities and accepting the contradictions is a part of evolving as a thinking individual. That said, pretty much ANY Ism or Cult of Personality or Belief System that results in the Harm of Others is a bona fide load of rooster shit with a side of pig turds.
The trouble with Isms is that the sticky ones have enough good ideas to suck you in and enough bad ones to let the fundamentalist believers justify being fuckholes with it.
I think a good policy would be to try not to be a fuckhole...
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Chapter Fourteen : Neither
Spence
The wave of emotions the woman could experience in a matter of minutes while carrying his child was enough to make her feel as though her head might explode. Her happiness was a little happier. Her sadness, a little sadder. Her anger, incomparable to the un-impregnated version of herself. The bite to her inner thigh had her screaming out, her hand clenching at his upper arm, nails digging into his flesh with every intention to break skin. The path of his lips was doing nothing for her as it usually would. She wouldn’t be seduced from the rage that took her over. “Stop. Fucking stop.” She declared, tugging at that arm as her nails collected skin cells from his flesh beneath her nail. “JOHN!” A sweeping motion of her other hand would knock another few files to the floor as she attempted to sit up beneath him, not falling for his lips against her flesh. “That is mine!” She declared, all joking aside. In all of the times he had sparked her jealousy, this would take the cake for getting to her in ways she never could have imagined before. Not an hour before, she had asked him to do that very thing, and found it to be the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. But for him to take such liberties, to satisfy himself when she was right there? It was beyond her how he could do it. Without so much as an offer to her own hand, mouth, core. That hand coming to his forehead, pressing against him as though to break his track up her body to her neck.
John
Feeling the push of his head, the tension he caused in his neck broke him from her as he guided one of her legs down from his shoulders. Turning his head to relieve that tension. Unable to find her hotter in that moment of her anger. Her nails to his skin eliciting a low growl from his. Pulling his head from her hand, meeting her eyes as he pulled himself up. Hand slowly removed from her as he flashed her a telling smirk. Seeking to keep it going. "No, that's mine. I just let you use it from time to time." He challenged, lips pressing firmly to hers.
Spence
As his words came forth, anger was roaring behind her hues. So much so that she didn’t recognize herself in that moment. Furious didn’t cover an ounce of what she was feeling as he declared ownership over his piece before quickly bringing his lips to hers. Drawing slightly back, her teeth found his lower tier, biting down against him as she cut her eyes towards his. Her hand easing down his upper arm, in search of that hand, determined to make that stroking action come to an end. Feeling every move of his hand in the muscles of his arm, each restriction there driving her anger on. Quickly releasing his lip from her teeth, her imprints left against his skin, she turned her head away from him, as though she was now depriving him of her lips. “It is MINE.” She stated again, her free hand finding his chest, pushing against him as she felt that anger only rising. “Give me what is mine!” She screamed out, her teeth finding his shoulder as she attempted to cease that movement of his hand. “I said I’d never fucking do it again! You asked what it would take for me to learn? THAT. That is what it took for me to learn. Now I fucking get it. Are you fucking happy? Now fucking let go of it and give it to me! That hand is not your wife!” She reminded him, using his same argument there that he had posed to her. It was in this moment that the destiny of her own vibrator was sealed. She’d never again allow herself to reach down between them without him specifically encouraging her to do so. Things were clear to her on the matter, but it didn’t stop the anger that had now fully consumed her, enough so that should that blonde enter, she’d do that which she had toyed with earlier and slice her wide open without a second thought.
John
Smirking at her explanation, the man's hand withdrew from his piece. Showing his palm in submission, his nose nudging hers as he inhaled sharply. "You are so fuckin' sexy when you get mad.. gonna' have to do it more often." He challenged, hand firmly squeezing her hip.
Spence
As his hand was presented to her, she lifted her hand to it. Palm to palm, her slender fingers slipped between his, gripping their hands together. She was far from calm, nor could she see calm in the foreseeable future. With the nudge to her nose, she bit the air as though she'd take a shot for his nose, knowing she might in that moment as nothing should be considered out of bounds for the moment. She was still pissed and would remain as such until he gave her what she wanted and made amends for having done the very thing he would not allow from her. She'd adhere to his wishes, but only under the mutual understanding that it went both ways. Hearing his remark, she cut her eyes, the anger still overwhelming her hues as she felt his other hand there at her hip. "No." She answered sharply, finding nothing remotely intriguing about him pissing her off for shits and giggles. "Your wife is NOT sexy." She declared, a throw back to a time she had tried to be and failed, only this time she hadn't aimed for sex appeal in the slightest. "Tell me that it's mine." She demanded, tightening her hold against his hand, her heart racing within her chest.
John
"So fuckin' sexy." He challenged, despite her attempt as he heard her demand. Smirking softly as he felt her hand grip tighten. Teeth finding his bottom lip as he hesitated. "I mean..." pausing as if he had to think about it, free hand brushing the back of his fingers to hairline. "You're the only person that's been on it so that's gotta' count for somethin'..." he reminded her.
Spence
If looks could kill in that moment, these would, as she heard him declaring it again. She wasn’t sexy when she was mad, of this she was sure. Perhaps one of those hits to his head earlier that day had been a bit harder than he thought. She could feel her hand trembling in his, the anger searching for further outlet as he fueled the flames by telling her she was sexy when she was mad. When her request wasn’t completely met, it would have ordinarily been allowed to slip by, but he had turned her up to a different level altogether by his shenanigans down below, in which could not be so quickly turned off with a flash of his smirk or the touch of his hand. “John… so help me God… tell me it’s mine and give it to me before I fucking lose my shit.” A slight shake of her head there at the end of her words, a look he had perhaps never come face to face with. A look often reserved for her role at the Philadelphia Police Department. One saved for others, though even this might rival the worst they had seen.
John
"Alright, alright." He was having his fun with her but he wasn't cruel. His eyes meeting hers as he nodded slow. "It's all you...property of Spencer James...I'd get that tattooed on it but it's so big that the spacin' between the letters would come out weird." He explained as his knees pressed to the bed, leaned over her as his hands found her sides. Prepared to follow through on her other request.
Spence
Hearing the words come forth from his lips was drawing out a slightly evil smile in the woman. Satisfied, but clearly down to take things up a notch after he had toyed with her for far too long. Allowing her grip to leave his hand, she brought both arms up around his neck as his hands found her sides. Her eyes to his, that smile in place, she nodded her head there after. “Not if we got my lips tattooed there at the end where they belong,” she offered, a way of lengthening the text to expand the full length of his cock. Lifting her legs up and around his torso, leaving no work for him there as she opened herself up to him, lifting slightly to steal a nip at his lower lip as he found a way to bring her slightly down from that anger with just enough residing beneath the surface to assure them both a good time. “I have a deal for you. The vibrator gets relinquished to your nightstand at home, your control only, if you never do that again with your hand.”
John
Feeling her legs vice around him, he locked that latching feeling. It was home. A sign of things to come yet he had other things in mind. Patting the back of her knee to give up her grasp as he was guiding her onto her stomach. Drawing her legs open as his lips found the back of her shoulder. "What if you ain't around? Working?" He asked, attempting to work out these technicalities as his hips lowered to hers. Pressing against her yet not quite drawing his hand down yet to pass himself into her.
Spence
As though he knew just how to fuel that smile of hers, she turned to her stomach, turning her head to the side to rest against the bed as she glanced back over her shoulder to find his lips there at her flesh. Arching her ass up just enough for him to guide down against her, yet not enter her, she sighed at his incessant need to tease her every step of the way. “I fuck you three times I day…” she reminded him in his own words, a smirk taking the place of the smile that had resided against her lips moments before. “How about this then. We can take care of things ourselves if the other is not home…” She offered, knowing this offer would mean she’d not be relinquishing that vibrator either seeing as the only time she’d ever was when he wasn’t around as when he was there, there was no need. “Do we have a deal?” With a bite to her lower lip, she awaited when he would take it upon himself to complete the first thing she had asked for, now mixed in with her anticipation of what he would think about her offer.
John
"Fuck no." He answered honestly, finding that to be a horrible deal. "All you gotta do is text me and I'll be home. I can't do that with you. You work an actual job, I don't." He reminded her, as that damned vibrator was about to find itself in his lock box at this rate for all the problems it cause. One of his hands smoothing over the side of her ass, nipping at the back of her shoulder.
Spence
A groan found her lips the second he refused her, although she quite liked the idea of him coming home in the middle of a shift should she need a fix. Of course now that she’d been here, perhaps she could just show up for it if she couldn’t wait. The options were limitless now. And damn him for having a point in it all. “Okay…” she whispered, the bite to the back of her shoulder jolting her slightly beneath him as it hadn’t been expected. His hand smoothing against her ass having her struggling to focus on the conversation topic. Her words coming forth with awkward pauses between them. “BUT under… one condition. Your hand. Your eyes closed. And you’re thinking about my mouth around it the entire time.” Cutting her eyes over her shoulder, one hand slipping down to her side to find his there, her pinky placed overtop of his for a promise there that she’d hold him to. “But ONLY if I’m not home and can’t get home…” Boundaries laid out between them, and this way he’d get to keep her vibrator for the time being at least.
John
Hearing her reasoning and her terms, he watched her hand emerge. He smirked as he hooked her pinky with his. "No Playgirl spank bank. You got it." He seemed to promise, his free hand sneaking down. Pressing his head to the side of hers as he guided his cock to her entrance. Hips gliding forward to allow just the head of his cock to penetrate her. Giving up a low groan as the warmth of her eclipsed his sensitive head. Teasing them both. "I might break that promise though...I have no doubt that I'll think about your lips but this...this is just..." humming low, his teeth found his bottom lip. "Worth remembering."
Spence
As his pinky hooked her own, such an immature way to promise something, yet it was those things that would last in her mind, she flashed him a smirk over her shoulder. With him guiding just the tip in, it took everything in her not to shift her hips back to take that which he was withholding from her, yet she knew John’s way was definitely mutually beneficial. A bite to her lower lip as she heard him say he might break the promise, already prepared to fly off the handle at him again, but the words he would offer in the moments there beyond had her smirk stealing that hold she had on her lower lip. “Yeah?” She asked, leaning her head to the side against his own. “So I’m not the only one that thinks about it about a hundred times a day when we’re not together?” The fact was, he was a part of her. She literally felt incomplete without him inside of her. All of the stressful situations in the world could come their way as long as at the end of it, he found his way inside of her, even in his own time as he was showing her now. With a soft whine there at her lips as she turned her head to the side, drawing the curve of his lower ear between her teeth. A soft bite, though everything else about her until now had been anything but soft. “I want you.” She declared in a raspy whisper, not allowing his ear to slip from her grip quite yet.
John
"If you think about it a hundred times, I think about it a hundred and two." He challenged, his free hand gripping her ass as he felt her turn her head. Lifting his own as her whisper drew a breath "You have me." He reminded her as he guided his hips forward. One painfully slow interval at a time.
Spence
She was rather sure he had never, ever played this inch by inch game with her, but if his goal was to have her squirming there beneath him, it was working. Feeling his grip to her ass, she turned her head, releasing his ear, pressing her forehead into the sheets beneath them. “I want /all/ of you,” she clarified, her tone growing raspier by the moment. Shifting slightly, unable to keep herself from at least trying to get a bit more, she felt the sharp edge of a file folder beneath her abdomen. Lifting upwards if only to remove it, sending it off the edge of the bed, knowing there had to be at least another half dozen somewhere in the bed. “John, I need you to fuck me, now.” She declared, making no secret of how crazy he was making her as she could literally feel the tingling running up and down her spine as he eased in.
John
Hearing her clarify her stance, his hand lifted only to sharply land back on her ass. His lips pressing down to the back of her shoulder as she leaned to the bed. His forearm curling in front of her against the bed though his fingers grazing arm as a result, running parallel to her shoulders. Hips pushing forward where he continued what he was doing. A bit at a time with no hope of stopping anytime soon.
Spence
The sharp landing of his hand to her ass instantly drew out the last bit of voice the woman had left within her to scream out, her teeth clenching at the fabric of the crumpled up bedding beneath them. As his arm came up beneath her, her back pressed to his chest, turning her head to the side. She was locked there beneath him with no way to control that which he was giving her, nor the speed of which he would deliver. It was becoming painfully clear to the woman he was all about torturing her that night. Lowering her chin slightly, her lips pressed against his forearm, the threat of a bite potentially following. He had wanted her to beg before and she had held out on him, yet this time the word ‘please’ fell from her lips without hesitation. “Please, John. Please.” He had made her want it more than she had previously, as though she had been without for days on end. A hunger trembling through her body as the anticipation nearly killed the woman. Never had she had to beg for him to fuck her, and yet she took no shame in it. Another kiss to his arm later and she was whispering that word again, barely audible as the scream had nearly shot her voice for the first time in their marriage.
John
Loving to make her beg, the sound of her fading voice was an accomplishment at best as he felt her to his arm. Stopping the decline of his hips all together before all at once, giving in. Thrusting forward to bury the length of him within her walls. His hand still firmly gripping her ass with the threat of the impending smack forever on the horizon. Never too far from the surface or her busy mind.
Spence
Even without the force of his hand to her ass, his sudden thrust forward would render a silent scream from her lips. Her mouth parted, but no sound came forth as there was nothing left for her to give. If not for his arm, he would have surely sent her forehead into the wall that served as a headboard, yet his arm there bracing her would take the full force of his thrust forward. Drawing her hands between the bed and his arm, her nails found his flesh as they most always seemed to, holding on to him as she trusted he’d not allow her head to meet that wall. Shifting her knees slightly beneath her, angling her ass upwards for him, taking in every inch of his length, silent whines continued to fall from the woman’s mouth. Never before in her life had she lost her voice, though it most always sounded like it could go at any time, he had finally rendered her silent.
John
The man was calculated to assure her safety at the least. Even in the brashest moments, he wouldn’t allow her to truly hurt herself. His arm assuring she stayed where he needed her as he heard…well, essentially nothing. This came as a shock for the man who had grown very used to his outspoken wife yet once glance downwards had him understanding why this was. She had lost her voice. He had managed a rare feat and he knew it as he felt her against his arm. Forcing his hips down as he continued what he was doing against her with the sense of satisfaction racing through him like wildfire.
Spence
Her trust in him was never failing. He had put her in enough positions and situations pertaining to their mutual satisfaction, but never had he let her be injured in the process. In the one case there was physical harm, the way he cared for her beyond had only solidified that trust for him, as well as had her constantly yearning for it again. With her voice completely shot, only the sound of her breathing would stand as confirmation of that which he was inflicting upon her. Turning her head to the side, resting her cheek against his forearm, she cut her eyes back to him. The bite threatened at his arm was replaced with a bite to her lower lip as her nails cut into the flesh of his arm there beneath her. Each deep thrust was met with those nails digging just a little deeper. Keeping her ass angled upwards as to keep pressure from their growing child within. Vibrations to the back of her throat as sound failed her, leaving each whine to remain within her throat, unable to force it through. Something about not being able to speak, to communicate to him that which he was doing to her, was frustrating, but also brought something to life in the woman. She had already learned from him that she quite enjoyed restraint. But now to have her voice taken from her, it surprised her just how dependent this made her on the communication of her body language towards him. The exact opposite of the realization in restraint, which had her verbally communicative above all else. Constantly learning new things with him, this venture would stand to be no different.
John
Meeting her eyes, he saw nothing alarming reflected them. Nothing more than a green light to continue and he was thankful for that as his own breath caught. Turning his head where his free hand brushed the hair from the back of her neck. Lips taking to that spot and down over her shoulder blades. "Fuck, Spence..." he growled low, she might not have had her voice but he did. His other arm still tucked under her as his lips pressed down her spine.
Spence
His lips finding the back of her neck had her biting down with more pressure against her own lip as her hands released the hold on his forearm, exchanging that hold for the grip against the sheets that no longer hugged the form of the bed. The simple brush of his lips against her flesh could have her coming apart beneath him. This moment only surpassed by the next as she heard the combination of words fall from his own. With her own voice gone, he filled the silence where she ordinarily would have. A tighter bite against her own lip would bring with it a crimson coating as her own blood seeped against the form of her lower lip. She had demanded previously that he would scream out her name, but in truth, there was nothing quite like hearing him growl it against her flesh. Rocking her own hips back against his, meeting his thrust with her own with no regard for her now punctured lip, her goal their mutual release, and perhaps her name against his lips a time or two more.
John
Feeling her push back into him, he knew he was on his way. She would assure him of such as her grind only made it better. The hitch of his breath following up to her as he was rising to that familiar level and felt her doing the same. His free hand passing down her side, his other still there before her. Hips pushing and angling down against her. Having to think that ironically, this was the quietest he had ever had her, maybe he was losing his touch? He had to smirk at the thought.
Spence
Catching but a glimpse of that smirk to his lips out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but wonder what had incited it. His smirks were earned, this much she knew, so something had done it or prompted it in some manner. Determining that he was simply enjoying the feeling of that which he had designed, she allowed it without a questioning glance, which was about all she could manage at the moment. A slow stream against her lip changed the coloring of her mouth entirely, the sting of pain pleasant to her, also of John’s teachings. Never before had the woman been a part of something so explosive as they were, so much so that those who knew her would not believe this if they saw it for themselves, as she thrived under his hand. The trail of his hand against her flesh encouraged her to push deeper against him, impaling herself with his depth offered time and time again. Stained lips drew to part, assuring a sound would follow, though it did not. Deeper breaths took her over as she felt her body tensing throughout, a threatening release not far off if they were to keep this up. “John,” his name formed at her lips, though the sound would not pass through as her hands tightened against the sheets, drawing the fitted sheet towards herself, taking with it whatever files and paperwork remained against the surface of the bed.
John
Hearing the weak gasp of his name as he grinded himself forward, teeth finding his own teeth before spotting the stain of her own. Leaning in where he fused his lips to hers. Hungry for a taste of that which coated them. Primal urgings. Something some would even go as far as to say was sick yet he had a taste for the woman on all platforms. They had exchanged enough fluid that this could not be seen as quite so odd as his breath hitched once more to her lips. Allowing her to know that he was equally as close.
Spence
The force of his lips to her own over her shoulder would only draw forth another coating of her own blood, now pressed into the crevices of his own lips. The awkward position of their kiss over her shoulder would be maintained as she drew one hand to release the sheet in exchange for a firm grip at the back of his neck. Sealed lips would not mask the skips in their breath indicating that the other was close to that release. Holding it at bay as long as she could, wanting to get him there with her, she could hold out no longer. With her lips drawing away from his, blood now staining his to match her own, she drew in a sudden breath, her forehead finding the bedding beneath them as her inner walls quaked around him, bringing forth that full release to coat every inch of him. Her body became victim to the hold the release held, keeping her tense until at once she would fall weak even as her walls continued to contract around him.
John
Feeling her cumming around him, even without the vocal reminder, it was written all over her. Forcing his hips forward as he gave up a deep groan. The feeling of her quaking walls around his already sensitive piece rendering him to cum within her. His forehead pressing to the back of her shoulder as one last launch assured he had buried himself just as deeply within her as ever.
Spence
His forehead to her back spoke volumes as his own release filled her, mixing with that of her own. If not for the baby growing within her, this was one she would have been sure would have rendered her with child based on the depth alone that he was able to penetrate within her. Keeping her ass lifted to him until she was sure his own had been seen through to the finish, she slowly lowered her hips in defeat as he left her drawing in uneven breaths of air against the sheets. Markings of their union marked the sheets there beneath her face as a collective drop of blood seared the white fabric beneath her. Her hand finding his there at her side, she slipped her fingertips through his own as she attempted to find a deep breath of air to penetrate her lungs fully and bring her back from the high he had taken her on. Weakness overcame her as she was now spent beneath him, both her voice and her body shot. Even her grasp at his hand was weaker than normal as the day culminated in that which would exhaust her to the fullest.
John
The exhaustion was blissful as it meshed with euphoria overtop of her. Drawing in an even breath or as much of one as he could manage. Pressing another kiss to her shoulder before he was rolling over from her. Having a feeling both would be needing as much help with regaining normalcy as they could as he glanced over towards her with a telling, tired smirk.
Spence
As his weight shifted away from her, she opened tired eyes to find him lying there beside her, looking as spent as she felt. It would take every last ounce of energy the woman had to turn to her side, drawing in closer to him as her head found the crook where his shoulder met his chest, resting her face there against him as the mixture of their scents took over her senses. Slipping her hand from his own, she rested her hand against his stomach, drawing in breath after breath as she came down from where he had taken her with no voice to express to him sentiments that would ordinarily be exchanged at this moment. Her eyes fell closed again, her still body there against his as she managed a soft kiss to his chest before she was inches from literally fucked to sleep.
John
Feeling her pull into him and his stomach, still rising and falling with each breath. His arm slipping around her shoulders as the hand of his other came to her mid-back. Feeling her lips to his skin as his head turned. Kissing her temple following a slow and soothing breath. His own head resting back as he closed his eyes and knew he was on his way off as well.
Spence
Almost sure she had felt him kiss her temple, she made no attempt to move or adjust afterwards. Nearly a year into the marriage, there were very few times he had done her in to this point, but each one was equally as blissful in their own right. Slow and even breaths took her as she drifted off, gone to the world with her work files still scattered against the bed, though most had now found their way to the floor where Scrappy was all too willing to lay against them.
John
Drifting off not long after as the room finally cooled around the two inactive bodies. His head turning to the side of her neck in the course of it all but out. Sleeping hard and deeply against her without more than a few minutes lay over from their previous moments of coupling. Arms raveled around her all the same.
Spence
Previously, Spencer hadn’t known how she would be able to sleep in this place that was not their own. She would do so to be with him, to make things as normal as possible, but if she’d been asked then if she’d lay down and pass out, it would have been met with a sharp ‘no’. Now, she was just that, gone in moments beyond the kiss she had laid to his chest, completely unaware and uncaring of the scenery around them, as the scent that took her was familiar and of them. She was home as far as she cared. The next morning, she was not awaking with light shining through drapery. Instead, it was the dramatic kicking at her stomach that would draw her eyes to open. There she would find herself still against John’s chest, in exactly the same position she had drifted off in. Her body ached from the night before’s activities, but the daybreak brought with it a smile to the woman’s face. Not only would she fulfill John’s wishes for desk duty today, albeit begrudgingly so, but by that evening, they would know the sex of their child to truly begin planning for him or her in a way they had not begun to do so. After that appointment, they would begin looking for their first true home together. All of which had the woman chomping at the bit to get up, get through a short shift of work, and get on with the afternoon that would center around their plans for the future with a home for River and their new baby as well. “John?” A test at her voice, finding a bit of it there recovered, though each word she would speak for a while would come forth in a whisper, thanks to that scream he had drawn from her the night before.
John
Somewhere along the night, he had dragged the sheet above the two of them yet as the rest? Undisturbed. Completely and totally undisturbed from where last night had ended them. As she spoke, the man didn’t hear her. Too far gone. Sleeping heavily by that point and continuing to do so until she’d do something more dramatic than her half voice. Her attempt to pull away merely having him shift further into her physically and replicate the warmth he had slept with.
Spence
Feeling him draw in to her further, she offered a tired smile to his closed eyes, bringing her hand from his chest to find his hand, luring it at the will of her own to her stomach where their son or daughter was making their presence known within her. The kicks far sharper than they had been before, there was now no denying that which resided within. As the baby assaulted their joined hands, Spence pressed a soft kiss to John’s shoulder where she had spent the night against him. Realizing he was still asleep, she closed her eyes as well, quite content for the moment to lay there beside him, their hands over her growing stomach together, feeling the baby becoming a part of their lives a little more every day. The reality of it all was setting in on her, as this would be the last day she would face field work of any sort. The throbbing at her shoulder wouldn’t be missed, she thought, nor would the examinations John would perform over her flesh when things did happen in the field. It would all be a little slower, she thought. A part of her didn’t want slower, but as she prepared to get up and turn in that request for desk duty, it was as though the baby was reminding her of just why. Coffee and food could wait for now, as she enjoyed the moment with her sleeping husband and active baby.
John
Feeling his hand guided to her stomach, it took a particularly hard jab that he wouldn’t expect from such a place before his eyes finally opened. Slowly. Taking a moment to focus as he drew in a deep inhale. One eye closing once again as he met her eyes. Glancing down to where his hand was as he heard the stir underneath of his palm. “The Native is restless…” he told her tiredly, fatigue clinging to his vocal chords as he closed his eyes once again. Not quite ready to get up.
Spence
As the man showed signs of life, prompted by the strong kicks of their child, a smile took her features as she opened her eyes, meeting his for a moment there before they were closing again. “I’d say,” she agreed, as the morning seemed to be the most active time for this child of theirs, almost concerning to her as it seemed to take her and John a bit to get going in the morning, but not little James within her as the morning was met with kicks every day, though she’d not seen any as strong as these before. In truth, she liked them, not for that which many would claim of bonding or making something real. For her, it was confirmation that despite all that she did at work or with John, that the baby was still there, and doing well. It was confirmation that he or she was growing and healthy. Keeping her hand there over his, she remained at his side for a short time longer before she’d open her eyes again. “I gotta get ready to go…” she reluctantly whispered, knowing she’d spent all available spare time there at his side that morning, but there was coffee to be found, food to be had on her drive to work, and a short shift before she could return to that which was actually more important to her these days. “You want to shower with me or stay here and sleep?” She offered, almost hating the idea of washing the man off of her.
John
Groaning low at the mention of her having to leave, suggesting a bit of complaining to come. As if he was the one who had to get up. Today was not a day that he wished to face. Hearing her question, he didn’t want to do either. His hand slipped up, finding her hip. “Neither.” he offered, not quite unbreaking his clasp of her either. Just wanting it all to stop right there with no further progression in time or the world for that matter.
Spence
Already starting to turn away to go through with that which awaited her, she felt his hand at her hip. Turning her eyes towards him, she drew in a full breath. A hum found her lips as he wished for neither, knowing well that it meant he wished neither for her as well. Her will simply not strong enough to stand up to this man, she found herself there at his side, as if no attempt had been made for her to move. Not once in their marriage of nearly a year had she called in to work, and yet the woman was contemplating it today above all others. “Neither.” She repeated back in her hushed tone she was plagued with for that day. Even with the excitement that awaited for them that afternoon, she’d spend however much time he desired there in bed with him, even if it meant the world went on without them for a little longer, though a part of her had to wonder if he was keeping her from her last potential day of field work. “How long are we doing neither?” She asked, attempting to gauge what was to come. If it was prolonged, she’d need to make a phone call, inform the Sergeant that she would not be able to come in that day. If it were just a little longer, she might be able to get out of there in time to make it to work, if she skipped a stop off for coffee and faced the terrifying pot in the district.
John
"Forever." He returned, not quite knowing what he was asking for when he did it. His lips pressing to her jawline as he kept his hand to her stomach. Knowing it was unlikely the more and more he woke up but he'd still give it a go id only to keep her for the day but knowing his main motivation was to try to get her that quicker desk duty if there was any motivation at all.
Spence
A hum found her lips instantly as he mentioned keeping them there, doing absolutely neither, forever. It sounded like heaven to her to stay in bed with the man forever, with no need for the outside world at all whatsoever. “Okay,” she agreed, unable to deny the man. There were flaws in this plan, such as making money and food, yet she’d go along with it with the knowledge that John would take care of her for the rest of her life. He might not’ve looked like much to her parents, but she knew this man was everything her parents would have wanted for their daughter if they only knew /him/. Feeling his kiss to her jaw, she leaned into that touch, closing her eyes as she brought her hand from there at her stomach with his to take a place against the side of his face. “I have some sick time,” she confessed in a whisper, drawing in closer to him still. “Let’s both play hooky today.” An idea brought to the table that would assure them residence in that bed, doing neither, at least until the early afternoon when her appointment was. Soft fingertips ghosted against the contour of his face convincingly.
John
“I am at work…” he reminder her groggily, as it was hard to call out of work when he was there. Feeling her against his face as his eyes closed. Just a mere reminder though he had no intentions on getting out of bed that day. He was far too comfortable and had put his work in for the night, he had decided. Hand smoothing up her side. “Glad you got your voice back?”
Spence
He had a point. A strong point, at that. As his eyes fell shut, hers did the same at the prompting of his hand up her bare side. “I don’t know that it’s back, back. But it’s something to work with.” She reminded him as it was barely above a whisper, each word laced with a heavy rasp. Slipping in tighter to him, nearly every part of her touching a part of him, her hand still there at the side of his face. “So what if you weren’t at work? What if we snuck out the back, went home, became completely unavailable? Or better yet…” an idea struck her as she suddenly lifted her head, a smile sweeping her features. “I have a few more weeks left on my lease at my place. There’s still a bed there and a few other things I haven’t decided what to do with yet. We could go there.” Her eyes were lighter, which was odd considering she hated the run down apartment with a passion, but it would give them true privacy that the thin walls of this room did not provide.
-March 1, 2016
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