SONNY! IN! THE BLACK! SHIRT! that is my sexuality tbh can I pls get caught wearing that and “is that my shirt?” “Not anymore” “wanna bet?” I’m salivating OML

carisi-dreams:

sonny in casual clothes is my sexuality! sonny with a gun on his hip is my sexuality! sonny in a 3 piece suit is my sexuality! sonny with a fuckboy haircut is my sexuality! you know what, why don’t I just post this fill & stop being distracted…

[in case you needed a reminder]

You woke up and stretched, knowing that Sonny wasn’t in the bed because he wasn’t wrapped around you. It was rare that you ever woke up next to him with him not touching you, so it was a dead giveaway that he had woken up early. Sonny loved trips like these, being out in the middle of nowhere. Joshua Tree wasn’t exactly the ‘middle of nowhere’, but the house you had rented was in a remote location. You had a feeling that Sonny was sitting in one of the chairs out back, looking out over the desert and enjoying some time to himself to think.

Climbing out of bed you grabbed his black henley where it was thrown on the top of his open suitcase. Desert climate meant it was still chilly this early in the morning so you needed an extra layer before heading outside. Snagging a Mexican blanket and throwing it around your shoulders as well you slipped your feet in your shoes and opened the back door. Sonny was sitting exactly where you thought he would be, wrapped in a blanket himself on the loveseat. Padding over to him he turned when he heard your footsteps, smiling and opening the blanket for you to climb into his lap.

“Morning,” you mumbled as you situated yourself and he wrapped his arms and the blanket back around you.

“Morning,” he replied softly, leaning down to kiss you once and then twice before pulling back.

“Been out here long?” you asked him sleepily around a yawn. He chuckled affectionately and you scrunched up your nose at him.

“Not sure. What time is it?” he asked.

“8:45,” you replied and he made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Been up since seven,” Sonny admitted and you smiled and shook your head. It could be that he was on East Coast time or that he just couldn’t resist soaking up every last minute of your trip. “Wait, is that my shirt?” he asked suddenly, glancing down as the blankets shifted around your shoulders. You tried to tamp down your guilty face and rearranged the blanket back over you.

“Not anymore,” you told him with a cheeky grin. He dug his fingers into your side and you squirmed to avoid them before he relented and rearranged you in his lap again.

Wanna bet?” he tossed back with a mischievous look in his eye. You narrowed your eyes at him and pursed your lips in response.

“Yes, Mr. Carisi, I believe I would like to take that bet. What happened to what’s mine is yours and all of that?” you asked with faux indignation.

“Well, Mrs. Carisi, I think you forgot to read the fine print. Got to be careful, I passed the bar you know,” he scolded with a grin and you bit the air in the direction of his wagging finger. He withdrew his finger before tapping you on the nose playfully and going on. “What’s mine is yours, that is true, but I also reserve the right to remove it from you at any time.”

“Any time, huh?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s right,” he said before suddenly standing and hoisting you in his arms, “like now for example.” He started walking back to the house, blankets trailing over his arms. “It looks great on you, but I have a feeling it will look even better on the bedroom floor. Only one way to find out.”