God, really, I missed my stove. I missed my whole freaking kitchen, but at the moment the stove was the immediate concern. Mainly because I was trying to stir up some more pain amulets and it pretty much was impossible over an open flame. Seriously, I had no idea how witches had done this pre-gas stove.
Frustrated, I pushed a piece of hair out of my face, my new charm bracelet making a gentle clanking noise. I'd finished spelling all those charms last night; today I'd planned on going shopping in the village to get a few more ingredients once I'd finished with this. Throwing down my spoon back into my second-largest copper spelling pot, I thought about giving up for the evening. It was obvious I was getting nowhere.
Hey, score me at 0 for however many things I'd tried in the last two months. I was doing fantastic, really.
"Turn it," I muttered, closing my book and hunting down my shoes. I was, once more, dressed in clothes of Claire'schoice, not that I had much of one. I'd even tried to buy a new pair of leather pants,
( ... )
For all his determination, Peter couldn't help but pause in the door for a few seconds, staring. He still didn't know who had brought new clothes for Rachel (it had to have been someone else, Rachel loved her leather far too much), but he made a mental note to thank them personally. They had good taste, and the style flattered Rachel in ways the leather hadn't done. She'd looked dangerous and sexy before; and completely unattainable. Peter liked these new clothes a whole lot better
( ... )
I had pretty much given up on Peter. Honestly, I couldn't have said why I'd held out as long as I did. If there was one thing I didn't do well it was pursue; I'd always been the one being chased after. So why I'd done it with Peter, why I'd pushed time and time again after I had just gotten shoved aside, I hadn't a clue.
But I did know that I was done.
There was nothing more to say, beyond the fact that I was sick to death of words. He said he loved me but his actions spoke louder and of something quite different. I was finished with embarrassing myself, done with trying to make sense out of everything. It was quite obvious that he didn't return my feelings and was just too damn nice to let me down. So I'd just bow out. Nothing horrible about that, really. It hadn't worked. No spark (no matter how much I had convinced myself otherwise). No shame in that. It happened
( ... )
"Came to my senses in the middle of painting, and I couldn't wait," Peter shrugged, halfway between smiling and just looking at Rachel with something resembling awe. If he were a less lucky man, she would have kicked him to the curb long ago for making her wait that long. He'd count it among her good fortunes that she had.
And she wasn't pulling away, she'd returned the kiss, and thank god he wasn't too late. "I'm sorry," Peter pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll stop being so stupid." Another kiss, and Peter frowned in determination, trying to make himself stop. He had to apologize, dammit. "I'll stop getting caught up in my head, and I'm sorry for sitting on the ant so much when I could have been spending time with you, and I'm sorry for singing Journey so loud in the shower." Okay, the latter probably didn't need to be apologized for, but everything was just sort of coming out in one big rush.
He made himself pause, lightly stroking Rachel's cheekbone. "I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I love you, so much, and it took me
( ... )
"Peter?" I asked, a giddy smile spreading across my face. "Shut up."
It was... Yeah, there really weren't words. So I fisted my hands in his shirt and tugged him back into me, kissing him eagerly, letting my eyes fall close and my entire being melt into him.
This was what I'd wanted and never thought I'd get. But he was here, in front of me, saying these things I'd given up on hearing and all I could think was 'Please, God, don't let me mess this up'. He loved me. He loved me and he was kissing me and my heart was going a thousand miles an hour as I tried to wrap my mind around it. I didn't deserve him. That was achingly clear. But he was here and I wasn't going to question it.
My palms slid up his chest and back around his neck, fingers twining in his hair and we kissed until I had to break away, breathing ragged and eyes shining. Scattering quick hop-skip kisses along his jaw, I murmured, "And I like you singing Journey in the shower."
"But I need to apologize, and-" Peter started to protest, only to be cut off by getting distracted in the far more enjoyable activity of kissing Rachel. All thoughts of apologizing fled out of his mind, because Rachel really was a good kisser, and Peter's mind tended to short-circuit pretty quickly in times like this.
An odd expression crossed his face at the revelation that she liked his singing of Journey; somewhere between glee and hope and embarrassment. She couldn't really, his singing scared off screeching cats, but it was the sentiment that mattered. Grinning, and biting down lightly on Rachel's lower lip before he pulled away, Peter laughed quietly. He ran his hands down her back, hooking his thumbs into the break between shirt and skirt, tracing lightly over the warm skin in the small of her back. He really had waited too long for this.
"I can keep apologizing, but something tells me you know it already," he murmured, ducking his head to trail a line of kisses along the curve of her neck.
Oh, and hello, forward Peter! Where the hell had you been hiding? "Mmm," I agreed absently. "We can definitely have a discussion on how stupid you were and how right I was." His lips hit that spot just at the hollow of my neck and I gave a tiny little gasp. "Later." Much, much later
( ... )
Mumbling a "Mm-hmm," of agreement into Rachel's neck, Peter hoped as well that said discussion would happen later rather than sooner. For now, he felt a little like a kid in candy store; something he loved was right here, and all these new things to explore
( ... )
My eyebrows jumped up and I breathed out a quick laugh. "Yes, sir," I murmured with a wide grin of relief. I quickly unzipped my hoodie, shrugging it off onto the floor. Fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans, I tugged us back towards my bed, ducking my head to kiss down the front of his throat, teeth catching at the skin in tiny nips, tongue tracing around his Adam's apple.
His touch on my back made me shiver and I breathed out a shaky little growl of frustration as the collar of his shirt stopped my mouth from dipping lower. Well, that needed to change. Pulling on the hem of his shirt, I laughed, "Off," tugging it up and over his head
( ... )
Peter's triumphant grin was quickly erased by the feeling of Rachel nipping at his throat - god dammit, talk about finding things he liked way too quickly - and he couldn't quite stop the sound that started in his throat. She was really bad for any sort of control Peter might have had, but she was everywhere and suddenly Peter didn't really care about control
( ... )
My eyes had blinked open again when I'd hit the bed, and my heart caught in my throat at the way Peter was looking at me. My thumb rubbed across his lower lip and I grinned. "Damn straight you are," I responded, the last words teasing out into a low whimper as his fingers touched my stomach. My muscles clenched beneath them in anticipation and I felt the first burgeoning flames of want start to edge up over my thought process.
In fact, what thought process? With Peter kissing me like that, any thought beyond him was gone completely.
Fingers fumbled slightly at his waistband, finally getting the button undone and easing his jeans down his hips, my hands running back up over the curve of his backside and then up to his shoulders. And I suddenly had a flash of thanks that I'd worn decent lingerie (which then made me laugh, because seriously, who would have thought that I'd have needed it
( ... )
None of his previous girlfriends had been biters, but Peter was quickly beginning to realize that he'd definitely been missing out, if the choked off sounds he was making was any indication. Christ, Rachel was eager, which was only fueling his own need and adding to the fire. He just hoped he lasted long enough to actually make it worth while.
Lowering himself to rest flush against Rachel, Peter braced his weight on his forearm and dipped down to suck gently at her earlobe. "Yeah? Guess I'll have to make it up to you, then," he murmured into her ear, raking his teeth along the sensitive skin. And he definitely planned on making it up to her as often and as much as he could
( ... )
God, that made me moan out loud, fingers clenching into his shoulders as he toyed with my earlobe. Wow, how did that get to be such a freaking turn on? "You'll have to think of something, yes," I agreed shakily, vaguely proud of myself for remembering all those words under such trying circumstances
( ... )
Yeah, he'd have to think of something. Much later, when he could actually think and form coherent sentences in his head.
"Really?" Peter grinned, for once not ignoring the images and ideas that sprang to mind from that permission. Hey, he could turn invisible. He'd never seen what was so great about having sex it public, but he'd try anything once. Flinging Rachel's shirt onto the floor, Peter took a moment to feel grateful that Rachel had loosened his jeans, otherwise he'd be in serious restrictive pain right now. He didn't think he'd ever gotten turned on so fast
( ... )
Neck arching slightly as my whole body moved up into his touch, I bit back a groan and nodded, grinning back. "Hell, yeah. Anytime, babe." And damn, didn't some wonderful ideas come along with that. Things we definitely needed to explore.
Rolling my eyes, I turned us quickly so I was straddling him, somehow managing to lose my skirt in the process. "I am so all about the ribbons and bows," I informed him, bending over him to leave a slow track of heated kisses down his chest. My hips moved on his, teasingly, and I gave him a wicked look. "And lace. And silk. And pretty much anything that feels nice against my skin." Then I arched my eyebrows and tugged on the waistband of his boxers with my teeth. "All this, of course, from the man with Captain Planet boxers
( ... )
Responding to the sudden swell of Rachel's emotions, Peter reached to tangle their fingers together, smiling up at her. "I love you too," he replied, open and honest with his emotions in a way that he hadn't felt for the last few weeks. It felt so much better to just say it.
And then they were rolling again, and Peter had to struggle not to just fall on top of Rachel. "And don't insult the Cap," he protested with a laugh. "He's- oh, fuck," Peter cut himself off with a groan, forehead falling to rest on Rachel's chest as she stroked him. Panting against her skin, he traced a tongue over her nipple, hands sliding down her sides. Was it possible to want something too much
( ... )
Frustrated, I pushed a piece of hair out of my face, my new charm bracelet making a gentle clanking noise. I'd finished spelling all those charms last night; today I'd planned on going shopping in the village to get a few more ingredients once I'd finished with this. Throwing down my spoon back into my second-largest copper spelling pot, I thought about giving up for the evening. It was obvious I was getting nowhere.
Hey, score me at 0 for however many things I'd tried in the last two months. I was doing fantastic, really.
"Turn it," I muttered, closing my book and hunting down my shoes. I was, once more, dressed in clothes of Claire's choice, not that I had much of one. I'd even tried to buy a new pair of leather pants, ( ... )
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But I did know that I was done.
There was nothing more to say, beyond the fact that I was sick to death of words. He said he loved me but his actions spoke louder and of something quite different. I was finished with embarrassing myself, done with trying to make sense out of everything. It was quite obvious that he didn't return my feelings and was just too damn nice to let me down. So I'd just bow out. Nothing horrible about that, really. It hadn't worked. No spark (no matter how much I had convinced myself otherwise). No shame in that. It happened ( ... )
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And she wasn't pulling away, she'd returned the kiss, and thank god he wasn't too late. "I'm sorry," Peter pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll stop being so stupid." Another kiss, and Peter frowned in determination, trying to make himself stop. He had to apologize, dammit. "I'll stop getting caught up in my head, and I'm sorry for sitting on the ant so much when I could have been spending time with you, and I'm sorry for singing Journey so loud in the shower." Okay, the latter probably didn't need to be apologized for, but everything was just sort of coming out in one big rush.
He made himself pause, lightly stroking Rachel's cheekbone. "I'm sorry for a lot of things. But I love you, so much, and it took me ( ... )
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It was... Yeah, there really weren't words. So I fisted my hands in his shirt and tugged him back into me, kissing him eagerly, letting my eyes fall close and my entire being melt into him.
This was what I'd wanted and never thought I'd get. But he was here, in front of me, saying these things I'd given up on hearing and all I could think was 'Please, God, don't let me mess this up'. He loved me. He loved me and he was kissing me and my heart was going a thousand miles an hour as I tried to wrap my mind around it. I didn't deserve him. That was achingly clear. But he was here and I wasn't going to question it.
My palms slid up his chest and back around his neck, fingers twining in his hair and we kissed until I had to break away, breathing ragged and eyes shining. Scattering quick hop-skip kisses along his jaw, I murmured, "And I like you singing Journey in the shower."
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An odd expression crossed his face at the revelation that she liked his singing of Journey; somewhere between glee and hope and embarrassment. She couldn't really, his singing scared off screeching cats, but it was the sentiment that mattered. Grinning, and biting down lightly on Rachel's lower lip before he pulled away, Peter laughed quietly. He ran his hands down her back, hooking his thumbs into the break between shirt and skirt, tracing lightly over the warm skin in the small of her back. He really had waited too long for this.
"I can keep apologizing, but something tells me you know it already," he murmured, ducking his head to trail a line of kisses along the curve of her neck.
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His touch on my back made me shiver and I breathed out a shaky little growl of frustration as the collar of his shirt stopped my mouth from dipping lower. Well, that needed to change. Pulling on the hem of his shirt, I laughed, "Off," tugging it up and over his head ( ... )
Reply
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In fact, what thought process? With Peter kissing me like that, any thought beyond him was gone completely.
Fingers fumbled slightly at his waistband, finally getting the button undone and easing his jeans down his hips, my hands running back up over the curve of his backside and then up to his shoulders. And I suddenly had a flash of thanks that I'd worn decent lingerie (which then made me laugh, because seriously, who would have thought that I'd have needed it ( ... )
Reply
Lowering himself to rest flush against Rachel, Peter braced his weight on his forearm and dipped down to suck gently at her earlobe. "Yeah? Guess I'll have to make it up to you, then," he murmured into her ear, raking his teeth along the sensitive skin. And he definitely planned on making it up to her as often and as much as he could ( ... )
Reply
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"Really?" Peter grinned, for once not ignoring the images and ideas that sprang to mind from that permission. Hey, he could turn invisible. He'd never seen what was so great about having sex it public, but he'd try anything once. Flinging Rachel's shirt onto the floor, Peter took a moment to feel grateful that Rachel had loosened his jeans, otherwise he'd be in serious restrictive pain right now. He didn't think he'd ever gotten turned on so fast ( ... )
Reply
Rolling my eyes, I turned us quickly so I was straddling him, somehow managing to lose my skirt in the process. "I am so all about the ribbons and bows," I informed him, bending over him to leave a slow track of heated kisses down his chest. My hips moved on his, teasingly, and I gave him a wicked look. "And lace. And silk. And pretty much anything that feels nice against my skin." Then I arched my eyebrows and tugged on the waistband of his boxers with my teeth. "All this, of course, from the man with Captain Planet boxers ( ... )
Reply
And then they were rolling again, and Peter had to struggle not to just fall on top of Rachel. "And don't insult the Cap," he protested with a laugh. "He's- oh, fuck," Peter cut himself off with a groan, forehead falling to rest on Rachel's chest as she stroked him. Panting against her skin, he traced a tongue over her nipple, hands sliding down her sides. Was it possible to want something too much ( ... )
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