#I did double tap my pencil...

[eclipselunarchaos]

Tradition art feels wierd. Totally did not double tap the pencils or anything. Nope, you can't prove it.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Putt Slut? - Rafe Cameron Daydreams ☁️

+18 Minor DNI

Rafe x GolferGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

🪄 language and mentions of smut

650

You two haven’t seen each other long, but when you show up to the course with a bag of Callaway REVAs, he can’t help but get a little rattled, especially when he’s used to his girls play caddie, if that. He watches you smooth out your Vouri dress, slipping on your glove and Callaway hat before pulling your pony through the back. His eyes double, as you lean down to tie your shoes, catching a glimpse of your dress’s built-in shorts where he would typically see lace, mesh, or pussy.

“I didn’t know you were a golfer, princess,” his voice wavers.

To which you smile and nod. “You didn’t? Yeah. Since I was six.” He swallows hard as the stakes are quickly raised.

Suddenly, Rafe Cameron is nervous.

How would he impress you now? What if you won?

You came out of the front nine in the lead with Rafe at his wits end. He had no patience; his short game was a mess, too focused on what you would do next, which always seemed to be the right move. Not to mention you looked so good doing it, your focus locked on the game. Rafe found himself in a strange position where he was now fighting for your eye.

Halfway through the back nine, he found himself at a crossroads. There was no way he would win: play fair and lose to his girl or play dirty and knock you down a little… It started simply by disturbing your backswing or during a putt, a cough, or a sneeze. Normal enough. When that didn’t work, he switched to praise. The type of praise that would make you feel nervous about the next shot. But you didn’t falter.

There was only one tactic that remained. The one that could always throw him off his game. Rafe unbuttoned the top button of his crisp white polo, fingers curling around the leather steering wheel to let his biceps flex. Every movement was a little closer than before: your position on the golf cart, where he stood on the green, how long he’d linger for a kiss. He was talking sweeter too, his low tone deep and raspy as he leaned into your ear, holding your hips from behind as you took a few practice strokes.

“You look so pretty, baby.”

“Fuck, my girl’s so good at this.”

“Wanna take a break. Hmm? I know a spot, honey. Wanna make you feel good.”

“Need you so bad.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

PLOP.

Your ProV1 golf ball plunges into the depths of the murky pond as a sinister smile spread on Rafe’s lips. Your eyes narrow on his baby blues, catching him in the act, clocking his excitement as you put two and two together. The rest of the round plays out like the PGA tournament because, unlucky for Rafe, you didn’t like to lose either.

“Wanna just call it, baby doll?” Rafe asks knowing his game was unrecoverable, but if it wasn’t in writing, did it actually count? You shake your head ‘no’, tapping your little pencil at the card.

“One left, baby boy.” Rafe smirks and shakes his head. “A bet?”

“You’re already gonna win, baby,” he groans.

“Just this hole, Rafe. Winner gets whatever they want in the clubhouse.”

“Alright. Alright. Deal,” he agrees.

To no surprise, you close out the hole with a win. To which Rafe genuinely accepts defeat. The two of you walk up to the clubhouse hand-in-hand, Rafe still waiting for you to call him out on his bullshit from before but you don’t. He leads you toward the pro shop as he fishes for his Black Card but you pull him away fast, disappearing into the locker room with him instead, kissing your way into a bathroom stall. He lets out a devilish laugh as you undo his belt with a smile.

“Well shit, baby. What are we doin’ in here?” He whispers against your lips.

“Getting what I want.”

[ccartalmond]

Work doodles since I left my iPad at home and I can't do work nor draw but I did find a pencil 😫 haven't drawn traditionally in such a long time that I kept double tapping my eraser to undo mistakes like you would on an iPad

Chilling like one of your French girls haha

[yuuchama]

♠️🖋❤️

"This is bad." Deuce struggled to raise his head, instead slumping his shoulders and staring down at the notes in front of him. The writing started out neat and tidy but gradually became illegible, eventually fumbling off the page and marking the desk with ink.

Ace tried not to draw attention to the fit of giggles he had been overcome with. He kept looking away and clearing his throat now that the lecture had ended. Looking straight at Deuce without laughing was an impossible task.

"Dude..." he snickered. "That's a wild black eye you've got there."

"Shut it, Ace. If you knew I fell asleep during class, you should've woken me up."

Deuce sighed and buried his face in his hands, which only made things funnier. His palm smeared whatever eye makeup hadn't already been smudged, making him look beat up. His hands appeared to be covered in soot and a quarter of his face was a blurry mess of makeup instead of the usual elegant spade design.

It took a minute for Deuce to realize what happened. It was hard to tell if any got on his black uniform sleeves. He gazed at his dirty hands with despair. "Dang it. I don't have anything to fix this. The housewarden's gonna have my head."

Doubled over and clenching his stomach, Ace wiped a tear from his eye. At least one half of their combo remembered to seal his makeup that morning. "Don't sweat it! I have something that can help, don't worry."

It was a suspicious offer, but a sign of hope. Deuce would do anything if it meant avoiding Riddle's wrath. "Seriously? You carry black makeup? Uh, why?"

"Just in case! You should be thanking me instead of asking all these questions. What if I decide to change my mind, hmm?" Ace reached into his pencil case and started rooting around. He put on a great show of being serious. With one hand wrapped around something inside, he motioned for Deuce to come closer.

"Lean this way and close your eyes. There's not much time before Trein's next lecture."

Deuce grunted. Ace was right, and he didn't want to tarnish his future honor student reputation any further. The chair squeaked against the floor as he pushed it and swung his legs over the side. "I'll leave this to you, then. You can use the handkerchief in my bag."

"Great."

Ace hummed as he worked. Removing the blurry mess with Deuce's handkerchief came first, holding nothing back as he scrubbed his dorm mate's skin raw. Then it was time to reapply everything.

He gripped Deuce's chin, angling it upwards towards the light. "Hold still."

"Do you even know how to draw a spade?" Deuce asked.

"Hah? Who doesn't? What do you take me for?"

"It's just... you're taking a really long time to do this. Professor Trein's gonna come back soon."

"You really want to say that to the guy helping you out right now?"

Deuce got the point and remained silent. Applying his makeup usually didn't sting this much. He hoped he wouldn't get poked in the eye or have something inappropriate drawn in the end. Ace wouldn't go that far, right?

After a few blows to dry his face with Ace's gross breath, Deuce could finally relax. Ace proclaimed, "There. All done!"

"You really drew a spade, right?"

"Quit suspecting me! 'Course I did!" Ace turned to the student behind them. "Hey, what's this thing on Deuce's face look like?"

The student, caught off guard, glanced up from their phone. "Huh? The spade?"

"Yes, exactly. Thank you."

Deuce wished he had his handkerchief back to wipe the smug grin off Ace's face. "Alright, thanks. I really appreciate it, you've saved me."

"No problem, anytime. I'll even do your makeup tomorrow if you want." Ace began tidying up his desk space, straightening his notebook and putting his tools back, while Deuce returned his chair to its original position.

Deuce froze mid-chair scoot and narrowed his eyes. "What is that."

Ace pretended not to hear him. Deuce rose a shaky finger to his eye, gently tapping the sore skin.

He lowered his voice to a threat. "Dude. I swear to the Seven, if you just drew on my face with permanent marker..."

There was no time for Ace to enjoy the mischief, he had to stifle his laughter into his shirt as Trein finally returned and the students went quiet. He walked to the front podium and put his books down. A "pfft" snuck out the instant Deuce whacked Ace's chair with his foot.

A peeved off Deuce clenched his pen and mouthed, "this isn't over."

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, part 14

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Friday. It should be the best day of the week with school winding down but instead someone decided to make Fridays exam days. First up was the exam for English class, testing reading comprehension and writing skills.

Darwin: Why didn’t you guys tell me it was exam day

Carson, William, Onyx: EVERY Friday is exam day

Darwin: Yeesh, calm down. You’d think I asked who killed Father Winter

Mrs T: 10 minutes to go!

Carson panicked. He still had another paragraph he wanted to do, could he fit it in and triple check his multi question answers? Pushing his doubts aside he began a breathing exercise and started on the paragraph. He needn’t have worried. He managed to do it and recheck the first two pages before Mrs T announced it was time for pencils down. As she collected the papers he rhythmically tapped his foot to make sure she wouldn't laugh at his first paper.

Onyx: I feel like I did okay, how about you?

Carson: I probably failed but if I didn’t maybe a solid B+

Onyx: You’ll be fine. All your family head home then?

Carson: Yeah they’ll be off by now. I didn’t kill Reece so I suppose it went well

Onyx: He might have killed you with a slow acting poison in your breakfast

Carson: Oh my- Nyx could you not!

Onyx: Right, anxiety, sorry, bad joke. I’m just trying to improve my comedy

When they got to the cafeteria they split with Onyx heading for food and Carson looking for Ariadne.

Ariadne: Hey! I didn’t think I’d get to see you at lunch

Carson: I’m going to go study in a minute but I wanted to check you’re still okay with me getting you home?

Ariadne: I’d love some company on the trains

Carson: Good. Well, see ya

He turned to go but hesitated. The hug had been good, maybe... Carson turned back to face Ariadne, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek and sped off to the sounds of her friends oh’s and ah’s. Well that hadn’t been bad. He still didn’t feel an urge to woohoo but it felt comforting to be close to her, that he was letting her know how he felt. Seeing her smile after, knowing he’d made her smile like that, it felt satisfying enough for him.

The after exams were the STEM subjects. Carson felt reasonably confident about his knowledge. He may have been distracted thinking of Ariadne but he’d completed all his homework, and done the extra study. He finished double checking everything five minutes early and started thinking about after school. It was just one question he was worried about. Flirting was one thing but would she actually want to be his girlfriend?

The train ride was easier than he thought. Carson and Ariadne talked about the various things they could spot out the windows and were together when their exam results came through. They’d both done pretty well and Carson was happy with getting the top score in the art section of the exam. When they got to Ariadne’s house she didn’t want to go right in, preferring to sit outside and admire the lake for a bit.

Ariadne: It’s so beautiful when it’s all covered in a blanket of white

Carson: Well you’re beautiful full stop

Ariadne: *smiling* Thank you

Ariadne: Thanks for bringing me home, it was fun. I should probably get inside before I turn into ice. Unless... you want to come in?

Carson: Oh no that’s okay, I do have to get back to Sulani. I’ve got planning to do before scouts tomorrow. But um... I’ve really liked hanging out with you more

Ariadne: *smiling* Me to

Carson: So I wanted to ask, and you can totally say no, if you would maybe... be my girlfriend?

Ariadne: You want me to be your girlfriend?

Carson: Yes. I... I would like if you’d consider it

Ariadne: So you’d be my boyfriend?

Carson: Yeah that’s... that’s kind of how it works

Ariadne: If I say yes do you promise to take me to our next prom?

Carson: *laughs* Of course I’d take you to prom

Ariadne: Yes. Yes!

Carson: Are you sure? I mean I like how I look but I worry you’d be embarrassed to be dating a four eyed overweight guy. I don't want you to die of embarrassment

Ariadne: *sighs* You worry a lot huh

Carson: Yeah. I ah.... I have OCD actually

Ariadne: Listen Carson, I like you. I think your glasses are cute. Anyone makes fun of you for being overweight and I’ll show them you have a girlfriend that’s not to be messed with

Carson: *laughs* You’re like ant height

Ariadne: But you like me regardless, and I like you regardless

Carson: I do

Ariadne: Can you wait five minutes before heading off? I just want to grab something for you

Carson: Okay. If you come back and I’m not here tell them to dredge the lake

Ariadne: *laughs* I’ll just be a minute, no one’s going to murder you in a minute

She races inside and Carson can’t stop himself grinning. He’s glad for the falling snow to cool the blush in his cheeks. It’s longer than a minute but Ariadne comes back outside with a rose.

Carson: What’s this

Ariadne: My dads got me some pots and seeds and not much has grown yet but this rose bloomed a few days ago and it just made me think of you

Carson: Watcher you’re so cute

That’s the Foster’s for now! Harvey is still chomping at the bit for grandkids while Kayleigh is making a habit of painting masterpieces. Carson may have a lot going on in his head but hopefully making his relationship official will take care of some of his worries.

Rotation Wrap Up will be out tomorrow morning.

Previous ... Next

[brooke121000]

.• the tortured poets department •.

Spencer Reid x bau!user

fluff, idiots in love, early seasons Spence, awkward romance, eventual smut double posted on Wattpad and ao3!! Highly recommend checking it out on Wattpad as updates might come faster.

Most would say that the king is by far the most essential piece in chess. He is your prized possession. Your one trophy to safeguard. Lose your king, and you lose the game. However, you could argue differently. The pawn, however humble, is the soldier. The small, disposable piece. You use to pawn to advance on the board, to offend the opponent. To progress.

Small, painted pieces of wood flashed through my head, moving across the board as I tumbled down the hallway of the modern, tiled building, bags fumbling in my shakey hands. As the dim morning light, filtered through thick, gray clouds and then the window blinds of the FBI building did little to no help in illuminating where exactly my phone was located in my bag, I found myself subscribing to the idea that mornings, well.. sucked.

Normally, I looked forward to this time of the year. Gray skies, cold winds wearing down buildings and inviting the soft comfort of beanies, coats and scarves. When trees shook off their leaves, browned and aged by the cruel heat of the summer. When the clouds crept in, swirling and melting together like the creamer in my morning coffee.

Oh, that's it.

I haven't had my coffee.

I finally collected my belongings, digging my phone up from the bottom of the messenger bag. I straightened my back before I pushed open the glass doors, my gaze trickling over the dark, carpeted office. A familiar face smiled at me, outstretching a hand to pat my shoulder.

"Morning, pretty boy." 

I nodded, a feeble attempt to communicate some sort of put-togetherness. "Morgan." I smiled weakly.

"Jeez, what's wrong with you?" JJ grinned, pushing a strand of gold behind her shoulder as she peered over Morgan's frame to look at me. Garcia, who also seemed to be inspecting me, raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you look.. stressed." 

I sighed, walking with Morgan into the gloomy bullpen. I plopped down into a flimsy black roller seat, allowing a sigh to finally escape from my frost bitten lips.

"Nothing. Missed my alarm."

Morgan whistled. Even JJ allowed her brows to betray a raise at my admission. "Wait- seriously? You're probably the most punctual person I know. That makes no sense, sorry." I fiddled with my hands on the leather strap of my bag, running my fingertips up and down the stable, consistent stitch lines. I gave an unconvincing shrug. Garcia perked up. "You probably just need coffee."

Oh, right! Coffee.

My muscles slowly kicked into action, pulling my tired body from the seat. I made a hum in acknowledgment to Garcia's suggestion, and then trudged across the room to the coffee machine, my shoes tapping quietly on the floor. Now, with the cognitive break of work stress and socialization, my brain resumed its internal chess debate.

What's more essential to a good game? The king, a flashy, delicate thing to be protected, or the pawn, a small, weak trading piece, to be thrust into action and sacrificed?

I make up my mind.

It has to be the king.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In my adulthood, I had grown quite fond of this time of year. The cold demands certain things of you. It demands you layer up. It demands you wear your hair down. This particular morning, it demanded me to forgo my breakfast in order to stop by a coffee shop for one of those ridiculous, over-sweetened 6 dollar coffees. That, I was regretting. The first day of work was not going to be fun on an empty stomach.

Shit!- Work. Focus.

Starting today, I was to be working a real, serious job. In heels and a pencil skirt, no less. In a way, this marked the first day of my adulthood. Not the silly, false adulthood of frat parties and lecture halls, but the serious responsibility that comes with a schedule and a paycheck. Images of taxes, commutes and cubicles flashed in my head as I pushed open the glass doors to the B.A.U.

I entered the moody office, my gait perhaps a little more apprehensive than I would like as I looked around. My eyes immediately landed on a group of people chatting. 

They must be my coworkers. I thought.

That's a scary word. Coworkers. I spotted my boss among them, an only slightly frightening stoic older man. I put on a polite smile as I reached talking distance with the group. They introduced themselves one by one, and I took a mental note of the names so I wouldn't forget.

Derek Morgan.

Penelope Garcia.

Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

Elle Greenaway. (Who, by the look in her eyes, already wasn't too fond of me.)

Jason Gideon.

Aaron Hotchner.

We made our introductions, and Penelope, the bouncy blonde girl decked out head to toe in accessories and color, was already fawning over me. 

"Oh, my gosh, it's nice to finally meet you! I- I love your necklace. Welcome to the team!" She grinned. My cheeks flushed at the flattery, and I smiled back.

"Thank you so much." I said, and quickly trailed off when another man walked in. He piqued my interest slightly more than the others. Maybe it was his slightly unusual walk, maybe it was the sweater vest, maybe the glasses. In any case, he stood out just as much as the colorful blonde lady, at least to me.

Shoot, did I already forget her name? 

Oh right, Penelope.

He placed the coffee cup he was holding on a nearby desk, and tilted his head when he saw me. "You're the new agent?"

I quickly turned to him, giving a nod. "Yes, (y/n) (l/n). It's nice to meet you!" I said, with as much cheer in my voice as I could muster, given the gloomy morning. His eyes widened slightly, arms remaining at his sides. Morgan gave a chuckle.

"Sorry, newbie. There shoulda been a memo. Boy genius over here doesn't do shakes."

I withdrew my hand with a shake of my head. "Oh- it's alright. Don't worry about it."

The briefing was.. strange. Imposter syndrome ran rampant in my mind as I contemplated how the hell i ended up here, in a real FBI office, looking over crime scene photos like some big shot detective. 

The jet ride was.. stressful. Granted, it was quiet in the luxurious cabin, except for Gideon and Hotch's calm conversation over chess, and Morgan talking lowly to Garcia, holding in laughter. The team seemed relaxed, in their element, even. Which made me all the more nervous for the impending case. My gaze occasionally flickered to Spencer, who was reading. There was a sort of.. quiet beauty about him. I didn't like how enraptured he already had me. I felt like a schoolgirl, and we'd barely interacted. Once or twice, he'd meet my eyes and we'd both quickly look away. Maybe I was delusional, or maybe I saw some sort of interest behind the soft oak of his gaze. 

Stupid.

Stupid, right?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[hanmaitani]

Symbols in Your Head

PAIRING - Tendou Satori x Reader WC - 1.3K GENRE - Fluff, Suggestive What You Missed - prompted by your best friend, semi eita, you realize that your interest in tendou satori was not one-sided like you thought and you enter a 'no feelings' casual fwb relationship with the red-head.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

There was a small tickle in your left ear. Something that you were struggling to ignore so as to not accidentally expose the earbud that was nestled there.

Music emanating from the device, quiet tunes to help you drown out the lecture you were in. A lecture that had nothing to do with your major but that was required by the university nonetheless. It was a familiar tune, one of your favorite albums playing to help you zone out as you traced your pencil around the paper.

You hadn’t really been paying attention, even to what your own hand was doing. Sketching up and down the margins of the page in your notebook, flipping it every now and then to give the illusion that you truly were taking notes. It wasn’t until the first zipper you heard that you finally looked up to the clock and realized that your professor had stopped speaking and classmates around the room were in different stages of packing and leaving.

Your notebook lay open on the table in front of you, your pencil now laying next to it. You finally had a moment, or gave yourself one, to inspect your little sketches.

The same symbol was traced over and over again. The same intricate twist of lines, each with different dimensions and shading than the last. You tilted your head in thought, lips pursing as you tried to think of where you’d seen the symbol before.

The buzz from your phone made you nearly jump as it sounded on the chair under you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Satori’s contact had lit up your phone and you caught your lips smiling against your will at his double text.

4:47pm from Miracle Boy: y/nnn 4:48pm from Miracle Boy: y/n oh y/n my sweet

It had been a few weeks now since your first night at Satori’s. He’d been nothing but sweet, taking it slow and at the pace you’d set as comfortable that night, and every night you’d been there since.

Well, every night and afternoon and morning you’d been there.

Satori and you tended to neglect having a set time to meet up, one of you randomly texting the other at any given point in a day. But you were sure you’d not gone a day without seeing him.

Even the days where you two weren’t hooking up, you were getting lunch in the courtyard between classes and he was chatting your ear off about something new with the team. Something you were always happy to listen to.

A third message buzzing onto your screen reminded you that you hadn’t moved yet. You jerked into motion, quickly packing up your things into your bag and heading for the door.

4:50pm from Miracle Boy: come over after class gets out?

You waited until you were outside and past the crowd of students who had filed out of the same building to fully open Satori’s message so that you could reply. You let out a short laugh at his words before starting your reply to him.

4:52pm from Y/N: hmm i dont know satori 4:52pm from Y/N: something in it for me? 4:53pm from Miracle Boy: is something in it for you? 4:53pm from Miracle Boy: oh sweets 4:54pm from Y/N: that a no? 4:54pm from Y/N: cheating out on me? 4:55pm from Y/N: tsk tsk and i thought we were getting somewhere 4:55pm from Miracle Boy: you know what... 4:56pm from Miracle Boy: now that i think of it... i think i brought some chocolates home from the shop

You nearly laughed out loud as you walked through the courtyard. You tapped on the gif search for your phone, looking for an image to display a batting of eyes for comedic effect.

4:57pm from Y/N: aw shucks... 4:58pm from Miracle Boy: oh did you want some? 4:58pm from Miracle Boy: i supposed i could spare some 4:59pm from Y/N: do i want some? uh they should be in my mouth already. c'mon now satori

You paused, steps faltering and processing how your words could be processed and quickly typed out another message to him.

4:59pm from Y/N: wait. 4:59pm from Y/N: don't say what i think you will 4:59pm from Miracle Boy: i mean... 5:00pm from Y/N: satori i swear to god i will turn around. it's not too late 5:01pm from Miracle Boy: so... you are coming? 5:01pm from Miracle Boy: am i that irresistible?

You rolled your eyes with a laugh and stopped in front of your dorm, instead turning towards his with an adjustment of your bag on your shoulder. You could almost see his smirk form on his lips from his message and it tugged the formation of your own.

5:02pm from Y/N: thin ice satori. thin. ice. 5:03pm from Miracle Boy: okay okay okay i'm sorry 5:03pm from Miracle Boy: forgive me :( 5:03pm from Y/N: hmm. maybe for some chocolates 5:04pm from Miracle Boy: deal lol 5:04pm from Miracle Boy: how close are you?

You looked up at his building and chuckled, slowing down your steps as you reached the end of yours.

5:05pm from Y/N: class got out somewhat-early 5:05pm from Y/N: so should be there in like 5 minutes maybe? 5:07pm from Miracle Boy: gasp 5:07pm from Miracle Boy: i dont know if i'll be cleaned up by then! what if my room is messy 5:08pm from Y/N: please satori shut. up. lmao 5:08pm from Y/N: come down and get me! i'm not walking up on my own again! 5:09pm from Miracle Boy: coming coming !!

You tucked your phone into your pocket and trained your eyes on the glass door, waiting for him to appear and lead you up.

You released a deep breath, your body still reeling from the phantom feelings of Satori's fingers and lips on your skin. You turned on your side and felt Satori's arm sling heavy over your torso like you'd gotten so used to.

You could feel the exhaustion seeping into your body, ready to close your eyes for a quick nap before a small glint caught your eye. You narrowed your gaze at the bedside lamp, fingers reaching out to grip onto the chain of the lamp. You turned the small charm hanging off the end in your fingers, blinking at it slowly.

"What's wrong?" Satori's voice was still gravelly, sleep coating it now as his grip tightened on your waist. He leaned up to look over your shoulder, to take in what you were seeing.

"This symbol..." you turned it over in your fingers one more time before turning your head to look up at where he was hovering above you, "have I ever seen it somewhere else?"

Satori tilted his head in thought for a second before shaking his head. "Not that I know of, I don't even think I've seen it somewhere else." He looked at the symbol as you tugged on the chain, turning off the light before letting it drop. "Why?"

You shook your head as you nestled back down into the pillow and his arms. "Nothing," you mumbled into the darkness, "just seems familiar." You tried to shake the thought out of your head.

You tried to shake the idea that tucked away in your bag across the room were pages of sketches of that symbol. All different dimensions and shadings. But all the same. All the same as that little symbol you stared at every time you fell asleep in Satori's bed.

a/n hoping it kinda comes off as him bleeding into her subconscious but idkkkk <3

TAGLIST - OPEN @faumpje

[kairiscorner]

i'm stuck with you. — miguel o'hara x reader pt. 1 (college dorm mates au)

summary: the only good thing about having this cocky asshole as your dorm mate is for help at the one subject you abhor and had hoped to avoid: math. even art students can't catch a break from it, it seems. ah, well, the only good thing is your tutor's... free, for the most part... until he asks you for something in return.

pairing: college dorm mate!miguel o'hara x gn!college dorm mate!reader

genre: fluffy <333 a little suggestive though in one bit, but mostly fluff !!

word count: 1,481

authors' note: OK I HAVE PUT THIS OFF FOR TOO LONG, I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS LIL TIDBIT I HAVE TO SPARE ATE @binibinileonara !!! (hindi naemphasize yung art student si reader pero this was what i had in mind ,,,,,)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you really hated having to do this; if you could only either be the smartest person in the world and do the math in a matter of seconds or obliterate math as a whole since it was a subject you found boring, or useless–or both. you grumbled as you stared at the incoherent symbols and operations in front of you, hoping that through this staring, the right answers would magically come to you. but alas, such a miracle did not happen, and you've spent 15 minutes straight staring at it getting even more confounded on what to do. you sighed as the door to your dorm opened, and coming into the room was your absolute ass of a dorm mate–miguel o'hara.

seeing you slumped over on your desk made him raise an eyebrow out of curiosity. "what are you moping about?" he asked you as he took a sip from the coffee he bought earlier, with your eyes narrowing up at him at his coffee. "didn't think to get me one when i've been pulling all-nighters all week?" you asked him with irritation in your voice as miguel merely sipped louder and shrugged. "didn't ask me to get you any." "that's because every time i ask you, you never get me any!" you complained as miguel peered over at the math assignment you had and chuckled. "oh, basic." he muttered under his breath as you looked over your shoulder in embarrassment, your face flustered as miguel had just called the horrible, incomprehensible mess of letters, numbers, and symbols 'basic'?

you huffed as miguel sat down next to you and set his coffee aside. "y'need any help?" he asked you with a monotonous, uninterested voice as he took a pencil and the assignment into his own hands. "you wouldn't understand this." "oh i beg to differ." he said as he got to work on the solutions, pulling up a scientific calculator and pressing away at the keys, slightly enjoying solving your math assignment for you as you watched in utter envy at his big, fat brain getting to work while yours is shriveling up and dying at the math you couldn't even begin to understand. he chuckled to himself again as he kept solving it, with you peering over at him as he kept writing down answers and tapped away at the calculator's keys, with you feeling so lost at what he was doing.

"that's my homework you've got there." you reminded him as he kept solving it non-stop. "and it's my brain doing the work for your poor, pitiful self that can't even understand pre-calculus." he said as he put the pencil down and reviewed his answers, muttering to himself as he read it over, doing the operations backwards to double check the answers.

he took the paper full of solutions away with him as he was about to leave the dorm. you scrambled out of your seat and rushed over to him, unsure if you were about to beg him for the answer sheet or grovel at his feet for them. "wait!" you exclaimed as you jumped out of your seat and onto your feet. he turned around to look at you, the answer sheet still in his hand. "what? it's your homework, isn't it? sounded like you didn't want me to do it, so here, i'm giving you want you wanted." he said as he looked at you from underneath his glasses, smirking to himself ever so smugly as you pouted up at him, your eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

you took in a deep breath and brought your shoulders down, trying to loosen up as you exhaled and looked up at his smug, shit-eating grin with all the calmness you could muster. "miguel..." you began, trying to keep your cool as miguel leaned down to hear you better. "sorry, tiny, can't hear your little ant voice, speak up." he teased you as you grumbled under your breath. you inhaled and exhaled again, trying to keep yourself focused on asking him for that damn answer sheet. "miguel, can you please... give me those answers for my math assignment." you pleaded him in a louder voice. "huh? sorry, you sound like a little cockroach right now, speak up, please." he said as he leaned down nearer to your face as you grumbled again. "please, give me the answers for the math assignment. i won't ask for anything more." "huuuuuh? speak up, couldn't hear you." " i said give me the answers for the math assignment, you cocky motherfu–" "oh, okay, here." he said as he handed you the folded up paper.

you reached out to take it, but miguel quickly yanked it away from you, with his smirk widening as you seemed so desperate for the answers... that you'd probably do anything for them. he chuckled as he shook his head. "how cute, but you gotta work for this, y'know? i'm not as generous as you think i am, chiquita." he said as he found your pouting and angry face just so irresistibly cute.

you stamped your foot and kept pleading, while also insulting, him–much to his amusement. he couldn't take it anymore, you were far too cute for him to say no to. "alright, alright, fine, chiquita, i'll hand it over, wouldn't wanna fry your cute, empty little brain, no?" he teased as he handed it to you, but pulled away again as you sighed exasperatedly. "but again... y'gotta work for it." he said as he took your seat and gently placed his hands on your waist. you shuddered as he pulled you close to him, his nose nearly touching yours as you looked down at him, and he looked up at you with more of a smile than a smirk or cocky grin like earlier.

despite you acting all angry and defiant towards miguel, you didn't pull away from him–you instead felt yourself submitting to his touch and leaning further against his chest. your breathing slowed and your defiant gestures ceased as you felt miguel's breath hot against your cheek. "so... what do you think of me?" he asked you with a smirk as you pouted up at him. "if it wasn't obvious already, you're an asshole who's full of himself." he chuckled at your honest observation. "okay, true, true... but not even the least bit handsome to you?" he asked you in a softer, sweeter voice. you remained silent, searching for the right words you wanted to utter right then and there, but all that you could answer would give away how you didn't see him as just your annoying dorm mate.

the fluster in your face got even worse as he tucked away a stray strand of hair behind your ear and murmured that you looked so beautiful. "i wouldn't mind doing your homework for you all the time, really... you know me well enough, i'm a little weak for you." he said with a chuckle as you felt flustered at his flattery. "just get on with it, so i can–" your lips had stopped moving to speak, and instead, they moved to messily lock lips with his as he leaned over and pressed his soft, supple lips against your own. you didn't pull away, you gave yourself into the kiss until miguel had pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours. "all you had to do... was admit you like me. but i guess i had it all wrong, maybe... i had to admit it first, but whatever." he muttered as he handed you the paper full of solutions. you forgot that was the reason you went through all this trouble of begging him and letting him touch you.

you tried to act tough, telling him he should've asked you first if he could kiss you, with him nodding and apologizing about his extreme boldness right then and there. "not my most gentlemanly moment." "as if you even are a gentleman." you said as you leaned against him still, with him raising his eyebrows in confusion. "you... wanna stay on me?" he asked you as you sighed. "you started it, now you reap what you sow, asshole." you said in a fake irritated snap as miguel chuckled. "okay, um... can i hold you again this time?" he asked in a whisper as you nodded. "finally, you figured out how to ask before you take." you said as you felt a little more flustered at the thought of him having kissed you earlier, him letting all his bare emotions out on you. he may be a cocky, arrogant smartass... but you had to admit, you were kind of waiting for him to make the first move; at least now, he was being just a bit nicer to you. you could get used to him doing your homework for you, in exchange for a few kisses from you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @ophanimgold @melovetitties @popeheywardssecretgf

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 13- Taunt

Helloooo. I hope you enjoy, sorry about the wait!!!

This is a blurb from Dirty Business hehehehe.

FICTOBER

Patreon

WC- 1.2k

--------

“Are you trying to taunt me?” His rough voice traveled through his office, eyes peeling over Y/N’s costume. She rested with her hands braced on the dark wood of his desk, her slightly unbuttoned blouse giving a peek into the lack of bra that was hidden underneath. 

Harry had been working in his new and improved office, leaning over his keyboard and writing a scathing email when his door had been unlocked from the outside. Only one person held the key to this place, so he knew who it was, but he was very surprised to see the vastly different outfit his lover had on. Tight black pencil skirt, tempting stockings clinging to her legs. Her shirt was a stark white button up with a slightly relaxed collar, black buttons going up most of it until it reached the middle of her tits- where she so kindly had left a bit unbuttoned for his viewing pleasure. He could hear the clicking of her patent leather heels as she approached the desk, her red painted lips smiling at him as she had greeted him with a ‘Hello, sir.’. She even had her hair up in a smart bun with a pencil tucked behind her ear. 

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about, Sir. I came to check on you, because obviously you’ve had some grueling work.” Her painted pout went straight to his crotch, matching red nails tapping over the cold wood. “It’s the day before Halloween! I know you take your job very seriously, but don’t you want a break?” Her pout morphed into a nymph like grin, leaning further over the desk with her dip of her breasts showing just a bit more- and as much control as Harry normally held, Y/N was his true weakness. Anyone who had eyes would know that. 

She had dressed up as a sexy secretary, a tempting wet dream right in front of him. He had been stressed all day and she knew he was going to be late home for dinner, so instead she had come to him. He held a lot of love for this woman in his heart but it seemed to grow each and every day. Both the costume and her thoughtfulness, knowing and sensing when her partner was frustrated and needed to take a break made him horny. 

Y/N had often told Harry he was working himself to the bone- and he was. He had to prove that he deserved his position, he didn’t actually get it just because he was with the owner’s daughter, so he spent many nights on his computer and putting in double the effort. While Y/N knew and understood once he had explained it to her, she didn’t like that type of strain on him, so the giving girl made her her personal and very serious mission to make him relax. 

“Come on. Don’t you want to have something sweet, Sir?” Her heels snapped against the ground as she rounded the desk, Harry’s arms crossing over his chest as he watched her approach. He would probably not get this email done, but watching her fingers pop another button on her shirt made his jaw clench up and suddenly, that prospect was okay. “Anything you’d like… Just let me know what you need, and I’ll let you have it.” Her body moved to stand between his legs, sitting her bum against the lip of the desk and taking his hands from their folded state to grab her hips. 

Harry was only so strong, squeezing her hips as he glanced at her with a narrowed glare. “I’ve got things to do, Y/N. I pay you to be my secretary, not my caregiver. But…” He looked down at her chest, feeling her soft hips in his hands and his cock throbbing in his briefs. “If you want to be any good at your job, you can go above and beyond this once.” Removing his hands, he moved his chair back and gestured to the floor. “I want to cash in on that something sweet. Get on those knees and suck me off. Want to cum down your pretty little throat to take the edge off.”

Y/N’s smile widened, looking giddily at him as she immediately did as asked. It took her a second, hiking up the skirt so she had a bit more mobility, falling to her knees as her greedy hands immediately went to his belt. “Thank you, Sir. You won’t regret it.” She whispered, nudging her cheek against the trousers on his thigh. This little roleplay was something she had stashed away for their halloween party adventures, but thank god she had a backup. Harry had been at the office overtime for all week, and she wanted to make him feel good, damn it. 

The moment her mouth was wrapped around his prick, Harry’s shoulders began to deflate, leaning back in his chair as he watched the red lipstick smear on his skin, her lips stretching around the girth. Perhaps she was a bit overzealous in her quickness to take him further down, gagging on him and startling him slightly as he tugged her up by the hair and sent her a look. “Careful, pretty thing. Love hearing you gag around me, but be careful with it. There’s no rush.” He released her hair, chuckling as she went back down and licked up the excess saliva on him before popping him right back into her mouth. 

“There we go. Cleaning up your messes, such a perfect little thing. Taunting me into taking breaks, love distracting me. Don’t you?” her hum against him made his thighs tense, vibrations making him groan. Y/N was no stranger to what he liked, but it still amazed him that she was so fucking good at it. 

Time moved as he leaned back in the seat, guiding her with his hand as she bobbed up and down on his cock, feeling his balls tighten as she pulled back to lick over them. It was a weakness, a garbled moan leaving his throat as he pushed her further into them, her mouth suckling at them and her hand messy as it stroked him quickly, firmly. The wet sounds filled his office, along with his harsh breathing, and he was stupidly close. He had good stamina usually, but the combination of everything had him feeling it in his gut as he pulled her off of his balls with a wet sound from her mouth. 

“M’gonna cum.” He whispered. “Stick out your tongue, baby. There we go, lay it flat.” He took over, smacking the tip of his cock over the pink muscle as he felt his balls pull up, groaning as he felt it. “Here it comes, angel. Take your treat.” He watched the stripes of cum spurt over her soft mouth, over her tongue and lips as she blinked up at him with her bambi eyes. Streaks of mascara had fallen a bit down her cheek from making herself gag a little, but it was a picture perfect scene as his toes curled in his shoes, mouth open as he finished on her tongue. 

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 29 ~ Everything I am is you

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW’s: sexual discussions of the ace variety XD, extremely brief reference to past noncon

WC: 3891

Taglist: @dont-touch-my-soup, @kixngiggles

In which it's time for a fucking talk already

AN: no cliffies this week, you're welcome 😅 we are getting legitimately so close to the end that I have considered if this should be the last chapter and the one i'm working on now would be an epilogue. mainly because the end of this one is such a good parallel to how i ended arc 1.

anyways, i'm undecided. i guess it depends on if i still feel the need to go on when i finish the next chapter

now, please excuse me while i go hide in a hole in the ground

Resh

“Maybe… maybe it’s best if I go.” 

Carr’s words had the effect of a death knell, collapsing all the air in the room. 

At least, that’s what it felt like, since shock had paralyzed his lungs. Resh swayed, catching himself with a hand on the bed. Thinking better of sitting unassisted at a time like this, he moved until his back was flush with the headboard. 

What? Resh’s lips barely moved, but it was clear she caught the intent all the same. 

She sucked in a shallow breath, looking nearer to tears than he’d ever seen her. “I can keep trying, but I’m afraid I’m not gonna fit here, and I’ll be damned if I’m the reason we leave the best place we’ve been in yet.” 

It took a moment for the meaning of the words to make their way to his brain. He was having a hard time keeping up with this conversation, which had gone from her being angry at him to telling him his character was too good to her claiming she trusted him but then acting the exact opposite. 

She was keeping things from him, again. And because of that, she wanted to leave? His heart skipped a few beats, then resumed at double time, leaving him feeling clammy.  

I heard they’re making that camp a village. Is that– Is that where you want to go? The words fell from lips gone numb, crashing to the floor like stones. 

Carr shuddered, standing entirely too still. Her knuckles were white where they clenched her elbows. 

Resh wanted to cross the room and shake some sense into her. He wanted to take her into his arms. He wanted–he wanted her not to leave them. Him. 

But he also wanted her to be happy. 

Talk to me, Carr, he pleaded, but she just stared at him, her eyes glistening. 

Seconds, then minutes, passed in utter silence, each one slicing into him, leaving him bleeding from dozens of ghostly wounds, until–

Someone rapped on the door. 

The cadence was sharp and not to be denied, breaking the stalemate between them. They both turned to look. 

The knocking came a second time, louder and more insistent. “I know you can’t answer me, so I’m coming in,” Salma’s muffled voice announced. 

A moment later, she did exactly that. “Oh, Carr, why didn’t you–never mind. Hmm, this makes this more convenient, I suppose.” 

Resh glanced at Carr to see if she knew what the lady was talking about, but her face was blank, unreadable. He reached for his new notebook.

Salma pointed at Carr. “You are not leaving. I won’t allow it.” She crossed her arms, a mulish expression crossing her features. “I mean, I will, I guess, you aren’t a prisoner here, but you shouldn’t leave.” 

His pencil slipped and scratched a dark line across the entire page. What in the– He checked on Carr, who seemed equally stunned. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Salma huffed, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Like it was hard to figure out. That girl doesn’t belong in that village, and I doubt your very good friend is thrilled with the idea either, which means you’d be going alone, and that’s just not right, seeing as they both revolve around you like you’re their sun.”

Very good friend? Resh’s eyes darted between Carr and the lady, who had crossed her arms and was now tapping her foot as she spoke. 

“If you gave us half a chance and stopped forcing yourself into a mold you clearly aren’t comfortable in, you might actually like it here. If you absolutely feel you need a reason to wear pants and that blade you’re so fond of, feel free to join the guard or whatever. Just don’t up and leave.”

A hint of color had entered Carr’s too pale cheeks, but she said nothing in response to the lady’s tirade. 

“Talk some sense into her,” Salma said to him before leaving as abruptly as she’d entered.  

Resh’s attention returned to Carr, hoping for some kind of explanation, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“I-I need a minute,” she choked out, then fled for the bathing room. 

Godsdamnit! Resh threw the notebook on the bed. He should probably be used to being laid up in one way or another by now, but it was fucking frustrating. He could get up and go after her, but that would take what remained of his energy and the gods knew he was going to need it to make it through this conversation. 

Presuming she talked to him, of course. 

He had the feeling that it was now or never. That if he didn’t get her to talk, she’d walk away and not return. And he could not, would not, abide that. They’d come too far, and she meant too much, for him to allow that to happen. 

What was she thinking? He tried to tamp down his anxiety enough to consider the possibilities. With her, it could be any number of things. Probably was a number of things. But there had to be a root concern. He just had to dig it out. 

She’d mentioned fear over being able to fit in. It felt too easy to be the cornerstone, but it was a valid concern. It had to be hard for her to imagine what kind of life she could lead in a place like this. He understood the lure of that camp in that way. She was used to living on the fringes of society, knew how to behave in them. 

He kept an eye on the bathing room, but aside from the faint splash of water, he heard nothing, so he moved on. 

Had there been something more with that guy he’d seen her with than she’d let on? No, he couldn’t really see that. 

Did she think she was dragging them down? Obviously she did, if she thought she might get them kicked out, but… the whole point of this was to find a place for all of them. And it was just as difficult to find a place where he could be comfortable as it was for her. It wasn’t all on her, but… she should know that.  

Maybe it was him. She’d said so, back when they’d first started out, that she didn’t know what this was between them. She’d freaked out at the thought of being important to him, so he’d let it go. Maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe the prospect of finally settling down and facing what was between them had her so spooked that she wanted to run. 

Maybe… maybe he was the only one with feelings like that, and he had everything all w–

The door to the bathing room creaked as it opened, interrupting his increasingly spiraling thoughts. 

Is it me? he blurted as soon as she glanced his way. 

Carr started, but her red-veined eyes remained locked on him while she moved out of the doorway. She’d changed back into pants, he noticed. What really caught his attention, though, was the bag looped over her shoulder.

His breath caught; it really was now or never. She wouldn’t, or maybe couldn’t, talk to him, so he needed to be the one doing the talking. Before she sidled around the bed and out the door.   

I didn’t do as well with the traveling as I’d hoped, he said, watching her carefully. And now I’m laid up again, mostly relying on you to communicate for me, and you to keep me in a good place in my head, and I know it’s a lot. 

She shook her head. “I… I don’t care ‘bout any of that.” 

He hadn’t really thought so, but it was good to hear it. And maybe… maybe if he’d needed to hear that, there were things she needed to hear. 

You know you matter more to me than for just the things you can help me with, right? That if you left,–he had to swallow past the lump that rose in his throat–if you left, it would kill me, inside. 

He thumped his chest for emphasis, wincing when he jarred his wound. The numbing medicine was wearing off. Amazing timing, that. He didn’t have time to deal with it though, so he ignored it. 

I don’t care if we have to scour the entire realm for a place that fits all of us. I don’t care if we have to build a place from the ground up. I just want to be with you, in a place where you can feel free to be you. 

I love you, he wanted to say but didn’t. He was pushing it as it was, based on how little color was left in her face. 

His heart sank when she didn’t reply. If that’s not what you want, that’s fine. The words left him feeling raw, even silent as they were. I’ll respect that. But I thought you should know. What you mean to me. 

He looked away, his jaw clenched. Waiting for her to say that he had it all wrong. 

For her to take the way out he’d offered. 

Instead, a low keening sound had him snapping his head back up, but it stopped when she clapped a hand over her mouth. He leaned forward a bit, alarmed at her reaction. 

“You can’t– I can’t,” she finally said, the whites of her eyes visible all the way around as she backed away. 

Can’t what? Resh asked. He held his breath. 

“I c-can’t,” she moaned, stumbling into one of the chairs. She moved behind it, clutching it like a shield. 

Well, shit. Maybe she hadn’t needed to hear that. He held out his hand in supplication, hoping she’d understand because she sure wasn’t looking at his face anymore. He wasn’t sure she was looking at anything. 

And then she was, although there was a desperate look in her eyes. “Take it back,” she pleaded. “Tell me I misunderstood. Tell me you aren’t over there trying t’ say you l-love me or something and that’s why you don’t want me t’ go.” 

Guess he hadn’t needed to say the actual words for her to get the meaning. Fuck. 

I can’t, he said, his chest aching in a way that had nothing to do with his wound. Why is that a bad thing? 

He couldn’t understand. Surely to gods, it wasn’t a surprise that he cared for her; he’d just given it words. What difference did she think–

Carr fell to her knees. Her bag clunked when it hit the floor, forgotten as she hunched over, her breath coming in ragged gasps. 

Oh shit. Resh didn’t even think. He moved, ignoring the now dull throb of his shoulder as he knelt beside her. 

It was torture, but he didn’t touch her, fearing he’d make whatever this was worse. She knew he was there; he was close enough that she could shift her weight and her knee would bump into his. 

So he waited, wishing to all the gods that he could speak to her when she wasn’t looking. He’d tell her everything would be alright. Tell her she had nothing to fear from him. 

This changes nothing, he said when she finally regained control and raised her head. 

She stared at him helplessly, a tear tracking down her cheek. 

“It changes everything,” she whispered. 

Tell me what, he said, clenching his fist inside his sling. This was it, the root of it all; he felt it in his bones. But he didn’t want to guess wrong. He also did not want to talk about what he thought would be coming next, but he’d do anything to get that look off her face. Anything to convince her to stay. 

“P-people who, who l-love each other, they–and I can’t, I can’t, I– Resh, I’ve tried, I’ve tried! Please, I can’t…” She covered her mouth again with trembling hands. 

Who love each other. Very good friend. 

Oh gods. 

The relief he felt… indescribable. She returned his feelings, at least somewhat. But on the heels of that came a suffocating guilt. She’d been so afraid, for all this time, thinking he’d eventually want–he swallowed down the pain that came when he realized he’d made her suffer with that uncertainty. He reached out with his free hand, and she actually took it, squeezing so hard his bones creaked. 

I am so sorry, I didn’t realize– He shook his head at the bewildered look on her face. It doesn’t matter. Look, you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t expect sex from you. His face burned, but one of them needed to say it. 

Her whole body jerked, her nails digging into his palm. “Y-you don’t? But–”

No buts, he said. 

Carr pulled her hand back, her expression hardening. “I won’t sit around while you fuck someone else.”  

I don’t want anyone else. If he’d had his voice, she would’ve heard how ridiculous he thought that was.  

“I’m serious,” she said. “I would kill them, and that’s not fair. I should leave, while I’m still able to–” 

Resh slapped his hand on his knee, cutting her off. I don’t want anyone else.

She swiped her sleeve across her face, sniffing. “I don’t understand.” 

It’s not… something that’s important to me? If anything, his face burned hotter. He didn’t know how to make it any more clear. 

She was silent, her head cocked as she contemplated him. 

You tried it? He couldn’t even imagine, as touch averse as she was. How had she tolerated it? Or had she? Or was it forced on you? 

She snorted. “Both. But I felt like I needed to be sure because nobody would get off my fuckin’ back about it.” She went on, all while Resh tried to keep himself from shattering over her first response. “‘When you gonna get yourself a girl, Carr?’ or ‘My gods, just get laid already’ when they thought I was in a mood.”

He shifted, wincing when his ribs protested the movement. He wanted to address the first part but didn’t think she’d appreciate it. So he forced himself to move past it, as she had. They sound like a bunch of dicks. I’m surprised you let that get to you. 

Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, well.” She looked like she wanted to say more but instead said, “Let’s get you back to bed.” 

As she helped him up, he tried not to wonder if this would be the last time. He wanted his energy back, of course. He wanted to not be such a fucking burden. But would this be the last time his arm was around her shoulders? The last time he would feel her warmth and be able to tell himself it was real? 

I wish I had been there for you, he said after she’d helped him get situated, unable to let it go completely. He leaned against the headboard, trying to catch his breath. He probably should’ve laid down, but he wasn’t ready to give up. Would never be ready. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said, not even bothering to pretend she didn’t know what he meant. 

Like that made it any better. Gods. Resh watched her as she stood up, trying to memorize the way she swept her hair out of her face, the set of her lips, the graceful way she moved. I don’t want you to go.

She took in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t stay here. And… I know you say it doesn’t matter, but I lived with a bunch of men. Who thought I was a man. It’s all they ever thought about. The amount of sex jokes I know alone is ridiculous. And I just… I don’t know. I think– I think there’s something wrong with me, Resh.” 

He opened his mouth, but she kept talking before he could say anything. 

“I went to that brothel because I needed t’ know, not because those stupid pricks needled me into it. Needed t’ see if I was broken, or just made wrong.” She wrinkled her nose, a faraway look in her eye. “I couldn’t tell, but the thought of ever trying it again makes me feel sick.”

Resh felt sick, that she’d put herself through that. 

“I’ve heard… heard people say it’s different with someone you care about.” Her breath hitched, and the look she shot him was full of both desperation and sheer terror. “Anyone I could’ve cared about before I couldn’t have knowing I was a girl. But you…” Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. She wrapped her arms around her middle and took a step back. 

You care about me? he prompted, eyeing the door she was inching towards. Her bag still lay on the floor across the room, but he didn’t think that would stop her. 

She nodded and took another step back. 

And you think I’ll hold you to some nonsense like that when it’s clear how uncomfortable even the thought makes you? His breath was coming too fast, sending shards of fire rippling across his chest. 

She was balanced on her toes, looking like she was poised to take flight at a moment’s notice. If he said the wrong thing, he was confident she’d bolt out that door and he’d never see her again. The thought had him breaking out in a cold sweat. 

If there’s something wrong with you–which, for the record, I don’t think there is–then there’s something wrong with me too, he said, keeping a close eye on her body language while he spoke. I think we’re just… different. 

“We?” she asked sharply. 

It doesn’t bother me as much as it seems to bother you, but–

“It? I’m gonna need you t’ be very specific here,” Carr said, her eyes a little wild. “‘It’ the whole, ‘it’ a part of…” 

Gods. He passed a hand before his face. I’ve had… sex, and it was fine, I guess, but I haven’t for… I don’t even know how long, and I don’t really care if I ever do again. My… fuck, my hand works just fine– Oh gods, Carr, please say you understand. I’ve never been able to talk about this shit without feeling like I’d rather sink into the ground for all eternity. 

Absolute utter silence. He wasn’t sure she was breathing. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to burst into flames.

There’s more to loving someone than wanting to fuck them. He scrunched his face, trying to convey the bitterness that would’ve been present in his tone. I. Don’t. Fucking. Care. 

“You really don’t?” she whispered. Her weight shifted, no longer balanced so precariously. 

The scarred skin of his brow felt uncomfortably tight beneath the blazing heat of his embarrassment. I really don’t. He held out his hand, wanting her away from that door. 

A calculating look entered her wary gaze, and she took a hesitant step forward. “Do you want to kiss me?” 

Dear gods. This conversation might kill him, and then it wouldn’t matter if she left. 

Only if you wanted me to. He kept his hand out, even though his arm shook with the effort. 

“Do you want to touch me?” She swept her hand over her body, arching an eyebrow. 

He was careful to keep his cringe internal. Only if you wanted me to. 

Carr took another step forward. And another. He felt like he was barely breathing. 

Skirting his hand, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Resh let his arm drop, prickles of alarm skating up his spine. What was she doing? 

She leaned forward, hesitated to make her intention clear, and when he didn’t protest slanted her lips across his. 

It was the most chaste and innocent kiss he’d ever experienced. It was also the most devastatingly effective kiss he’d ever experienced. His heart thudded against the confines of his chest, feeling like it might burst out of its cage.

Only a few seconds passed before she pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed when she asked, in the most deadly saccharine sweet tone he’d ever heard, “Do you want to fuck me now?” 

No, he said without a second’s hesitation. Goosebumps broke out over his exposed flesh. He didn’t dare move a muscle. 

“What, no ‘only if you want me to’ for that one?” she asked, sitting back on his thighs. Her eyes glittered queerly. 

He shook his head. No. You’ve made your feelings abundantly clear. I would never. 

“But what if I asked you to?” she pressed. 

I think I might fall over dead, and then it would be a moot point, he said with a nervous laugh. 

That must’ve done the trick because the tension faded. Confusion settled over her features instead. 

“What do you want, Resh?” 

For you to stay. He clenched the bedspread in his hand so he didn’t do something stupid. 

Exasperated, she said, “Besides that.” 

I want… I want to build a life with you. When you were gone, after… after. I missed you all the time. So bad, it was a physical ache. I want to see you smile. I want you to feel safe. 

“I missed you, too,” she said, gracing him with a little smile that faded too quickly for his liking. “Physically, Resh. What do you want?” 

He sighed. I like holding your hand. I like when you brush my hair back, or touch my cheek. I like when you sit next to me and our shoulders touch. 

“What else?” she prompted, swiping her hair out of her face. 

Resh stared at her hand longingly. Her weight on his legs was an exquisite torture. He wanted to rest his hand on her thigh. He wanted to–oh, he was supposed to be telling her that. 

I’d like to hold you, sometimes, he said after a moment. If you wanted. 

“Is… is that it?” she asked, her brow furrowing. 

He swallowed. It seemed like a lot to ask of her, considering. It’s not… you don’t have to. I don’t want anything you aren’t comfortable with. 

Instead of answering, she climbed off his lap. A lump rose in his throat. Was that it, then? Had it been enough? 

But she didn’t move away as he’d thought she would. No, she came closer, up under his arm on his uninjured side. 

“Does this hurt?” she asked, lightly laying her head on her shoulder. 

He couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t because he was hurting. She looked up, and he shook his head. 

“You can put your arm around me,” she said, the warm puffs of her breath skating across his skin. “I’m pretty sure that’s part of holding someone.”  

He huffed. She wasn’t wrong. Gingerly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then lowered his chin on top of her head. He was hyperaware of her body, of how what little stiffness there had been slowly melted away, how her breathing evened out and slowed. She rested her hand on his chest, over his heart, and he had to tell himself not to cry. 

His eyes burned anyway. Never in his wildest dreams had he actually thought she’d allow this. 

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. 

A tear fell free, and then another. 

He’d never been more grateful.

Next

[swordbisexual]

A Chest Of Pine And Iron: Chapter 3

[A note tucked in between the early pages of the first diary, bearing the remnants of a seal and two pinholes where the page was fastened to a piece of clothing.]

Herald,

I noticed during our conversation in Haven that you were without an adequate coat to guard against the cold. Furs and blankets are all well and good, but if you need to defend yourself, you’ll need both hands free and your full range of movement, if you’re to stay as deadly with that claymore as I know you can be. Please accept this coat, along with the rest of the supplies I’ve sent to the camp ahead of your arrival, and best of luck.

Regards,

Commander Cullen Rutherford

[Fenella’s diary]

25 August 9:41

The air is thicker down here. Strange, how I grew so used to Haven’s austerity in the span of days. Weeks, I suppose, though I spent two of those utterly insensate. But I take a breath now and wish the water in the air were ice instead, sharp and cold and clean. Instead, it’s thick with the morning dew and something… acrid. There’s smoke in the distance, and I wonder if I’ll be able to smell blood in the air when we finally make our way closer to Redcliffe.

Even in Ostwick, the mists felt clearer, blown in on a salt sea breeze that went in and out with the tide. I miss that too, even if I don’t miss the city’s double walls or being stuck behind them. I ought to work on writing to Father and Mother while I’m out here, or Josephine will have my head when I return, or at least have me sit down across from her at her desk and not leave until the task is done. There are worse tasks I could be about, but there’s better, too. I could be recording the drakestone samples I’ve been tasked to collect, for instance, or perhaps trying my best to convince Commander Rutherford to let me join in with training the recruits.

Insufferable man. He’ll commend my skill with a sword in one breath and then act as if I’m in need of his protection before he can even draw the next. The coat he sent with our other supplies is sitting at the foot of my bedroll right now, still folded up, and far too bulky for the last heat of summer. It is well made, I’ll give him that, eminently practical and with only a little fur around the collar and cuffs, just enough to keep the biting winds - that I will, again, not be experiencing in these Hinterlands - from slipping through. All for the sake of movement that he likely won’t even let me test out in the yard.

Insufferable.

Cassandra awaits me. She has taken it upon herself to act as my guard, instructed by the Commander, no doubt. Even on a hike to collect stone for requisition, I’m apparently in need of a guard at all times. I prefer to think of it as company, even though Cassandra has been too terse to be considered such by the usual standards of etiquette. Fortunately for me, and for her as well, I prefer silence to standards, when there’s nothing to be said.

—

I spoke with Varric after dinner tonight, sitting by the fire with my field journal and he with a journal of his own. Penning the next of his adventure stories, I assume, though when I asked if that’s what he was working on, he just gave me the same wry smirk he did when I complimented him on his crossbow. “Do you like being asked about what you’re always writing in that diary of yours?”

I held up my journal, where I’d started shading in one of the many spikes that jut out from a typical crystal of drakestone. “I’m doing work for the Inquisition.”

“Not that one.” He tapped his fingers on the open page in his lap as he waited for the ink to dry. “The other one. The one where you’ll write about this little chat of ours later on.”

I remembered the wary look Cassandra shot him when we found him with Solas on our way to the Breach, and her pointed remarks about his tendency to lie. I also remembered the wide berth he gave us both when we departed camp this afternoon, and the look he gave us when we returned. I winced and put my pencil down. “Not an official record, I can tell you that.”

Varric snorted. “You’re the Herald of Andraste. They’ll find a way to make it record, mark my words.”

What a horrible thought. If anyone is reading this after I’m long gone, I will warn you now: this is not an official history, and is in fact personal, and will be frighteningly personal and dull throughout. The Chantry should have better things to worry about than what the Herald of Andraste ate for breakfast.

(Boiled eggs and brown bread, if there’s to be a record. Reliably filling, though sorely lacking in even simple seasoning out here in camp, as if packing a salt cellar was just too much to ask. I must acquire one of my own when we return for resupply.)

To Varric, I simply shrugged. “It’s only what’s true.”

“According to you.” He delivered this reply without rancor and closed the journal in his lap. “But I’m still happy to sit and spin a yarn.”

It was my turn to snort. “I always hated spinning.”

This earned me a chuckle, and I felt my heart lighten at the sound. There’s something of both Matthias and Geordie in Varric, both in his relaxed manner and in the way he makes me feel as if I’m in on a secret whenever we speak. The feeling of family the familiar has been hard to come by, and while he’s not my brother by birth, I suppose I’ve already begun to think of Varric as a brother by circumstance.

He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his seat. “What are you collecting drakestone for?”

I lifted my shoulder in a shrug again. “A geological survey, I’ve been told. Every scrap of knowledge the Inquisition can get seems like it will be valuable.”

“Knowledge, eh?” Varric lifted his chin to point towards the jagged lump of stone balanced on my knee. “Did you know it can be explosive?”

I must have looked at the stone in real horror, because he just chuckled and shook his head. “Not in that form,” he added. “But ground down and mixed with sela petrae?” He spread both his hands out in the air on either side of his head. “Boom.”

I picked up the drakestone and gingerly tucked it into the pocket of my bag where it lay open at my feet. Explosives would be something Varric knows well, if he were present at Kirkwall. The explosion of the Chantry there rattled all of the Free Marches, even Ostwick behind its double walls. I’ve only been able to piece together his involvement, if he was directly involved at all: I know he was questioned by Cassandra for certain, and that whatever she got out of him must have been less than satisfactory. I could have asked about Cassandra, or about the mysterious Champion, but neither of those Cs were what came out of my mouth when I finally opened it again. “Did you know the Commander, then?”

Varric leaned back again, returning his hands to their laced place behind his head. “Cullen? A little.” He crossed one ankle over the other, ticking his foot back and forth in a steady rhythm, though to what tune, only he knew. “He did… what he believed was right. Always has, from what I can tell.”

I should have let the matter drop, as there’s no reason for me to need to know every little detail of Commander Rutherford’s past beyond the most basic and vital. But I thought of the coat, folded up back in my tent, and of the way he’d stumbled over his words when I asked about the severity of his vows, and I had to know. “He seems a good man.”

“He tries to be, in whatever circumstance.” Varric picked his journal back up. “Though whether the circumstance is a good one? Well. That’s a little more complicated.”

I returned to my own journal, intent on capturing the strange flame-like luminosity of the drakestone as best I could with only dull gray lead at my disposal. “So it seems.”

--

[Another folded note, tucked inside of the note from Commander Rutherford that accompanied the supply cache containing the coat. The paper is feathered at the edges, and the creases along its middle are soft, as if from being folded and unfolded several times over, handled often.]

Commander Rutherford,

It was solicitous of you to notice my lack of a heavy winter coat while wandering around Haven. Unfortunately, the weather off the mountain is far warmer, and I’ve little need for a coat. In fact, even my mail feels too heavy and hot out here, and I start to long for the Frostback winds and snows.

If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re being a bit patronizing. Oh, I know you aren’t, and I know you mean well, and I know I ought to be gracious. But I felt it worth mentioning all the same, lest you think I’m letting you off scot-free.

However, I will simply accept this contribution to the Inquistion’s efforts, and to my general warmth and well-being, with as much grace as I can muster. At the very least, I know it will come in useful once I have returned, and I look forward to wearing the coat the next time we meet in the training yard.

Yours,

Herald Fenella Trevelyan

[At the bottom of the page, written in Commander Rutherford’s hand, are three words. The ink is slightly darker, likely newer, as if added to the note before returning it to the Inquisitor for her safekeeping.]

I knew then.

[lokiprompts]

Appropriate - Chapter 4

"Fashion Show"

Summary: Loki x Female reader; Loki is banished to Midgard and he has to live an average life as penance...and you, a social worker, is there to help him along the way. Rom Com vibes. Pinning; emotional edging until we can't take it anymore.

Chapter Summary: You take Loki to try on some clothes and you are forced to set some boundaries. Loki also discovers coffee.

Words. 3.6k Other chapters on my tag list.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, Sad Loki, some angst. Pining.

Song to listen to while reading: Dream Kitchen

AN: I don't offer taglists anymore. Remember to reblog if you like a writer's work! Comments make my heart go pitter patter.

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            The whole way down to the first-floor lobby, Loki was floating. From the moment you saw the burns on his wrists, you had shown him nothing but patience, empathy, and kindness at a level he hadn’t experienced fore. Outside of his mother, and you did remind him of his mother’s golden heart and that fact made him smile, he didn’t have anyone who had stood up for him like you had. You even risked the job you loved, your life’s work and passion. For him! Why did you do that? Loki stole glances of you every chance he got, trying to understand why a pure soul such as yourself, would care so selflessly for a monster like him. It perplexed him and delighted him all at the same time.

            It also made him feel both worthy, and unworthy to be in your presence and that feeling only got worse as you walked together into the Stark Tower lobby. The very lobby where he once was shackled for his crimes against New York and whisked away to rot inside a glass box in Asgard. It was midmorning, and the lobby was hustling and bustling with people and Loki felt all eyes on him. The embarrassing outfit didn’t help. He was acutely aware of how short his pants were with each step he took. He could deal with the ridiculous decal of wolves adorned on his chest, but the high waters made him cringe.

            But every time he laid eyes on you, all that embarrassment faded away. As long as he was with you, he was okay. He had that feeling right away about you, as soon as you met each other, and your vicious tirade against Stark only confirmed that. Unbeknownst to you, you held a god in the palm of your hand because of your sweet gesture. Your delicious backside in those pencil skirts only aided your cause.

            Suddenly, you stopped right in front of a set of doubles doors. You took to Loki and offered your hands to him. Immediately, he placed his palms in yours. Norns, he hoped his hands weren’t sweaty.

            “Beyond those doors is the parking garage. I will be deactivating a part of your dampeners, so we can leave the building and wander freely outside. If anything happens while we are outside the building, it will mean terrible things for the both of us. Do you understand?”

            He looked down at you, loving how he towered over your small frame. After what you have done for him, after all the kindness you have shown him in the past twenty-four hours that had surpassed all he had received in his lifetime so far, he would never betray your trust.

            Trust. He felt a pang of regret and guilt at the fact that he started your relationship, albeit a professional one, based on a lie. What if you found out? No, there was no way.

            “You can trust me.” He said simply.

            You rewarded him with a smile and moved your hands from his and onto the bracelets. Immediately, they picked up on your fingerprints and a hologram screen popped up between the two of you. Tapping away at the screen, your brows were furrowed in concentration as you entered in a code. You looked adorable, Loki thought. With one last tap, the hologram vanished again, and Loki gave the bangles a closer inspection, the cold metal almost touching the tip of his nose.

            “I don’t feel any different.”

            “It is just so we can leave. Unfortunately, your magic is still dampened. I’m sorry, Loki.” You frowned, and looking at you, he knew your sentiment was genuine. The only liar here was him, and it was starting to make him feel sick.

            “That’s alright, Darling. Shall we?”

            You were the first one to step through the double doors and right before Loki stepped through, he paused. The shocks he felt yesterday were unlike anything he had felt before, but it brought him right back to his horrific time in Thanos’ clutches. The thought of feeling it again was making him tremble, despite his will to keep his panic at bay. His chest tightened, and his breathing became shallower. Then he heard you.

            “It’s okay, Loki. You are safe. You won’t get hurt; I promise.” I promise. The prince lifted his crystal blue eyes to you, and he was greeted by your soft, reassuring smile. It was enough to will his body past the threshold. When he emerged on the other side and nothing happened, he let out a long-shuddered breath and smiled back at you.

            You led him down a long line of cars, until you reached a small blue sedan. With a few clicks of your keys fob, the car was unlocked, and you invited him to sit in the passenger side.

            “Seat belt, please!” You chirped and Loki easily complied. While you were getting yourself situated, Loki took a moment to look around the car. It was in a much better state than your office, but he noticed the same Styrofoam cup in all the cupholders of your car. Every single one.

            “You must really like this drink?” Loki asked. Every morsel of information about you made him crave more, even if it was something as minute as your favorite drink. His mind began to wander again to you in his bed – naked, cozy, and his. Your sleepy eyes would flutter open, and he would offer you your favorite drink. The thankful blush you would gift him would be better than any treasure he could find.

            “Loki, are you listening?” Your giggle pulled him from his thoughts, and he flushed in embarrassment.

            “I am sorry, Darling, can you repeat that?”

            “It’s one of my favorite drinks, a coffee that is probably too sweet for my own good, but I love it. Have you had anything like that before?”

            The fact that you had a sweet tooth made him grin, “No, I can’t say I have.”

            “Would you like to try one? We can grab it on the way to the store. My treat.” You mirrored his grin, and it held a mischievous glint that suggested that you were likely not authorized to do this with him.

            “How could I say no to such a generous offer?”

            This coffee, it’s…electrifying, Loki thought. Its chocolatey flavor tantalized his taste buds and its hot temperature felt good in his hands and in his belly.

            It also made him go a mile a minute. By the time you both made it into the department store, the god was practically bouncing off the walls.

            “I have never felt this way before! I feel so, so…alive! This coffee elixir is amazing! Incredible!” He bounced on his heels, practically vibrating, and moving from clothing rack to clothing rack.

            “That’s the caffeine in the coffee. It’s a stimulant and gives you energy, but with how you’re reacting I am not envious of the crash that will come later,” You laughed at his childlike glee, “I am surprised it is even affecting you like this. I don’t think I’ve seen Thor this hyper when he drank it.”

            He popped his head out from behind a rack of sweaters, a wide, Cheshire grin on his face and flashing one of his wrists, bangles jingling, “Must be the dampeners. What do you think, Darling, green or blue sweater?”

            You opened your mouth to answer, but Loki’s lightning speed energy beat you to it, “Green, of course. It is MY color after all and honestly, it is one of the best. No, THEE best color out there, don’t you think? Much better than that brash red that Thor seems to love so much.”

            Another laugh escaped your chest despite yourself. You had been on a few shopping trips like this before with some of the other Avengers, including Thor, but it wasn’t nearly as fun. Loki’s unbridled joy was infectious, and you found yourself enjoying it a bit too much.

            “Loki, I need to talk about something with you.”

            The god stopped right in his tracks, almost losing a few garments that were stacked high in his arms, “What is it, Darling? What’s wrong?”

             You smiled at his perceptiveness, “It’s nothing bad, Loki, I assure you. But since we will be working together for some time, I want to go over some things with you. Sort of like rules.”

            Loki made his way over to you and heaved the pile of clothes unceremoniously onto the top of another rack, so he could speak to you properly. The seriousness of your eyes made him deflate instantly and his heart clenched in warning. Was this the crash you mentioned?

            “I am listening, Darling.”

            You shook your head, “That is one of the things that will need to change. You cannot call me ‘Darlin-”

            “Pet then?” Loki said, cutting you off, “Or Dear or Dove? Whichever you fancy, I don’t mind!” The tenderness in his eyes made you glad that you were having this conversation. It also told you; it wouldn’t be easy.

            “You cannot call me any endearments like that, Loki. We have a professional relationship and that crosses a line.  It isn’t appropriate. If you wish, you may call me Lady Y/N.” There was a long beat of silence as Loki’s gaze shifted from you to the floor. Something inside Loki shattered. Every time had had indulged himself in a foolish, romantic daydream that consisted of a life with you, a part of him knew it was just that – a fantasy. Nothing about this budding obsession with you made any sense. He just knew how you made him feel

            Not only he is a prisoner from another realm, but you’re a mortal. He is a monster, and you are the embodiment of the most radiant star. Besides, Loki was not one for relationships. The dark prince always took lovers, some staying longer than others, but not long enough to grab a hold of his heart. You? You had your hooks in him the first time he heard your voice through the door of that dreadful apartment, but what did Loki expect? A happily ever after?

            Someone like him didn’t get happily ever afters.

            “That’s quite alright, Lady Y/N” He easily lied, though his glassy eyes gave him away, “But if it is alright with you, I would appreciate your help on deciding on these garments?”

            You smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes, “Of course.”

            Trying on the clothes with you sitting outside of the changing room was confusing for Loki. It felt intimate, despite your proclamation about professionalism just moments ago. But his heart was a greedy, masochistic thing and he selfishly just wanted to know what clothes you liked best. He still wanted to impress you. He wanted to look good for you.

            The slim cut lines of his black trousers hugged his thick thighs and ass deliciously, or so Loki thought, as he twisted and checked himself in the mirror in the quiet changing room. He slipped on a blue Henley, rolled up his sleeves to expose his muscular forearms, and with one last fluff of his long black locks, he exited. Once his eyes set on you, he grinned, and you beamed at him.

            “Loki! You look great!” You said just a tad bit too enthusiastic. You greedily drunk him in under the guise of evaluating his outfit – the god was beautiful, there was no denying it. Twirling your finger, you motioned for him to spin for you, and he happily obliged. He made sure to give you an ample view of his backside as he did, peaking over his shoulder with a smirk.

            “You like this? This is considered nice in Midgard?” He feigned ignorance. The prince was not oblivious of the finer garments this planet had to offer, only wearing the best designers.

            “Yes, it’s wonderful.” Handsome as ever, you wanted to add. Little did you know, Loki was wondering if your compliment went past his clothes.

            “I haven’t seen any other Midgardian’s here. Did you arrange that?” He called out from the changing room.

            “Yes! Courtesy of Stark. Sometimes stores like this can be a bit overwhelming if you aren’t used to it.”

            Loki emerged yet again from the changing room, and it felt like all oxygen left the area around you. You had told him he didn’t have to show you everything he was trying on, should he so choose, but he insisted on getting your opinion on every clothing item. Every. Single. One.

            The low hanging gray sweatpants were no exception.

            The god was just slipping on a tight black thermal over his torso, giving you a teasing look at his sculpted belly as he stepped out. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was left to the imagination. Your eyes traveled from the outline of his pectorals to the lines of his Adonis belt, small, curly hairs just peeking out above the drawstring of his pants that led to nirvanda. Every curve of his kingly length was available for your viewing pleasure, and you found yourself swallowing thickly – your throat suddenly very, very dry.

            “And this one? What do you think?” Your eyes snapped to his, upon hearing his voice. The purr, undeniable.

            Loki saw your momentary brain malfunction and he felt a swell of pride bloom in his chest. Oh, my darling, you like more than you let on.

            You cleared your throat, “It’s perfect for a comfy day at home!”

            Loki furrowed his brows, now wanting to wear this outfit everywhere just as long as it gets you to look at him like that. “This isn’t something to wear ‘out on the town’ as they say?” He knew this was a more casual outfit, but he loved watching you squirm and struggle to find a place to look.

            “Some do, but I don’t think it is appropriate.” Loki suppressed a groan. He hated that word now, ‘appropriate’. What was inappropriate about his affections?

“Was that the last of it?” You asked, having gone through several different outfits for the past hour with the god. Loki sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Yes, yes, that’s the last of it.”

After purchasing the clothes on Stark’s dime, some of which Loki wore out of the store after refusing to put back on the ‘demon sweatsuit’, you both made your way towards the exit. But not before you passed the woman’s section of the store. There, in all its glory, was the most magnificent gown you had ever seen. The formal gown was covered in delicately crafted sequins and beads and its plunging neckline, low hanging back and sweeping train had you questioning if you were too poor to even stand next to it. It was just a flicker of a glance really, but it was enough of a lingering look to catch Loki’s attention.

            “You should try it on.” Loki said over your shoulder, his breath fanning your ear and making you shiver.

            “No, there’s no point,” You argued, checking the price tag, and letting out a mirthless laugh. The dress was three times your rent. “Yeah, no.”

            Loki stepped next to you, both your gazes admiring the beadwork and sleek lines of the beautiful garment.

            “What’s the harm in trying it on? It’s just a bit of fun.” He didn’t turn to you, instead choosing to look at you indirectly and letting his web of reason spin inside your mind. Loki could see the wheels turning, and for a moment he thought you would pass on the opportunity, but you surprised him.

            “You’re right. Let’s do it.” She would look like a princess, Loki thought. And after flagging down a rogue employee and shimmying your body into the gown with a few expletives slipping passed your lips, you emerged from the dressing room. You swung the dress in front of you, having to heave the long train due to your short stature. This dress was far too long for you, but it was glorious.

            The dumbfounded look on Loki’s face told you as much and you couldn’t help but smirk. Loki’s predictions were correct, you looked like royalty and it sent the god’s mind reeling yet again into another fantasy. A fantasy where you attended a formal event within the Asgardian court, and you held proudly onto his arm. Instead of black, the gown would be in his colors. A deep emerald that perfectly matched his royal leathers. All eyes would be on you, but you would be his. Only his.

            “You should buy it. No,” Loki corrected himself, “You NEED to buy it.” Every word he spoke was laced with wonder and awe. His gaze made you feel like you were, in fact, royalty and he was your loyal subject, ready to worship. It made you shift uneasily on the small platform that was in the center of the changing area. You were surrounded by mirrors, each reflection reminding you of who you are and more cruelly, who you weren’t.

            You stepped down, “No, I have no reason to wear it and it is way too expensive.” The concept of things being too expensive was new to Loki. Not once did he ever concern himself the price of things, being a prince. If he desired it, he got it and more often than not, he wasn’t the person who even did the monetary exchange. That was someone else’s problem. His only role would be to point, and it would become his.

            You had all but fled to the changing room, ripping off the dress as quickly, and as carefully as you could to avoid damaging it and an unwanted bill. There was little reprieve from the anxiety you felt, and you stayed in the changing room to try to find some semblance of peace. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

            “You could wear it to one of Stark’s parties!” Loki called from his perch on the couch, just outside of the changing room. It was much like how you sat as he modeled for you, and it made him grin. He would buy all the gowns for you if you just asked.

            His grin faltered. If he had money.

            “You can even use the little card that Stark gave you! He wouldn’t notice. Just a drop in the proverbial bucket, really.” It occurred to Loki he just wanted you to be happy. To be taken care of, and it made his heart clench at the thought that he couldn’t be that for you. Yet, that very same thought made him scoff. As if he would even have the opportunity to do that. As if he would want to. As if he was worthy.

            Stepping out of the changing room, you left your beloved dress hanging behind you. Your eyes were red, Loki noticed, “No, that card is for clients only. It wouldn’t be appro-“

            “Appropriate?” Loki finished for you, and you nodded with a long sigh. He really hated that word.

            “Let’s head back, okay?” Wordlessly, Loki followed you back to your car, his grip filled with bags of his new Midgardian apparel. The soft sound of music from your radio floated around the vehicle, but it couldn’t replace the heaviness that already filled the air there.

            “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Loki suddenly said. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, before releasing it and giving his hand a reassuring pat.

            “You didn’t. It’s okay.” The meaning of those words didn’t quite reach your eyes. Loki sighed and leaned back in his seat. He couldn’t even do this right, whatever this was. The silence resumed and stayed during their walk back to his tiny apartment. You only whispered a soft, ‘sorry’ when reactivating his dampeners. He smiled down at you, but like you, his eyes gave away his sadness.

            Just as you turned to leave, you spun to face him, “Oh, before I forget, did you choose your furniture order?”

            Loki hummed thoughtfully and retrieved the catalog, now filled with dog eared pages. “I didn’t have a pen,” He chuckled out his explanation and your mouth rounded, squeaking out an ‘oh’. You ruthlessly dug around in your bag and pulled out a pen, handing it to Loki.

            “It’s my lucky one. Keep it.” And the prince gladly accepted your gift. He quickly circled all the items he wanted as you peered over his shoulder.

            “That set looks really charming. Good choice, Loki.” You smiled up at him, your cheek almost touching his shoulder and making something burn within him. You looked at him as if you hadn’t echoed the very thing, he daydreamed about with you just yesterday.

            “I will place the order for you. It will take a couple of weeks for it to come in, but I will see if I can rush the order for you, okay?”

            Loki felt utterly deflated. This day was such a roller coaster of emotions for him. Each happy moment with you elating his cold heart, but each crash reminding him of why he shouldn’t even entertain the idea of a romantic relationship. Not with a mortal, and certainly not with you.

            “Thank you for your service today, Lady Y/N. I sincerely appreciate it.” And he meant every word. Even with his heart cracking, he treasured every morsel of kindness you had so freely given him. You nodded, and left silently, leaving him in his apartment for another evening alone yet again.

            Periodically, his thoughts would drift to you and each time, the prince would try to cast them away. But a bored mind has nothing left to do, but wander. Sitting down in his armchair, he opened his flip phone and brought up the photo of your smiling face. The butterflies in his stomach were instantaneous.

The feeling of the sun always felt amazing on his skin, even if he burned him.

[sprite-writes]

Yours (and Ours)

Leonard “Bones” McCoy/Reader (Original Female Character)

Summary: McCoy hated surprises, and being interrupted. Though for the right person, he supposed he could make an exception.

Word Count: 2,214

A/N: Guys im so sorry this chapter took so long LOL sometimes writing is hard but worlds biggest shout out to my beta @lightninginmyeyes who I could not have finished this without <333 also masterlist is coming soon !! anyways enjoy <3 

Breaks were hard to come by in the medical field. Being a doctor was all gas, no breaks. Patients' demands were high, and staff demands were even higher. Most of those in Science Blue spent most of, if not their entire day, on their feet. 

Leonard McCoy, most of all.

Chief Medical Officer was no small feat. Most days he wasn't, just a doctor– he was a nurse, a therapist, a leader, and whatever the hell else was demanded of him. 

Without a doubt, breaks were hard to come by. 

So, on the rare occasion when the medbay breathed for a moment, and he could slip out for an indulgent walk and a much needed cup of coffee, he thanked god for the opportunity. With a loop around the mess hall and a replicated coffee, he felt like a new man. Far too soon, he was back in front of the medbay, strolling in, greeting Chapel with a nod and as much of a smile as he could muster. His head nurse returned the smile…a bit too cheerfully for the day they were having. Leonard elected not to think about it too much. God knows he had enough on his plate. He punched in the keycode to his office, ready to tackle this new bout of paperwork. 

The thing is, McCoy was used to his office being a particular way. He kept his lamp on the left side, his family photo on the right, with a box of tissues and a cup of pens. Everything had its place and was accounted for.

So the box of colored pencils and stack of paper laying atop his things was a fair shock to him. So was the woman sitting at his desk, in his chair, looking very much like she belonged there. 

He faltered for a moment as he took in the sight and gained his bearings. 

“Uh, Sunshine?” he said with bewilderment. He glanced at his watch to double-check that his coffee run hadn’t stretched to the end of his shift (which was impossible anyways) and confirmed she should have been on the bridge by now and certainly not sitting in his office, in his space, amongst his things. 

At the sound of his voice, the woman's head shot up, her focus broken from the papers laid in front of her. 

“Oh hi, Len! I was wondering when you’d be back,” she said casually, like it was routine for her to be there. With no explanation, she returned to the task of, well, whatever she was doing. 

Leonard stood, thoroughly perplexed. It was midday, and he knew for a fact an operations manager would not have nothing to do around this time. From her silence, it would seem that he would be getting no answers unless he asked for them. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you Sunshine but, uh, aren’t you on shift right now? And how exactly did you get into my office?” he inquired with more patience than he would have offered anyone else. 

She lifted a red colored pencil from the paper and thoughtfully tapped it to her temple 

“Technically, yes, I am on shift, but I decided this is part of my job, and Kirk hurt my feelings earlier this week so he owes me a moment away.” He finally approached the desk and peeked at her handiwork. “And Chapel let me in, by the way – said you wouldn't mind.” 

Her movements slowed to a stop, and she looked up at the doctor with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

“You don't mind, do you?” she asked. Usually, he would have, but he decided right then, that he did not actually mind at all. 

“I’m more curious as to what this,” he gestured to his now messy desk, “is all about?” 

She beckoned him to come closer, and he found himself sitting in the obligatory guest seat…at his own desk. Sunshine held up a glossy piece of paper, folded in half with blue and pink bubble font across the front reading, ‘Get well soon!’

He stared for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You’re…writing cards?” 

“Yeah!” she nodded. “For the engineers who got affected by that gas leak. That rash looked… not fun. Thought it might cheer them up, maybe.” 

He would never say it out loud, for fear of losing her friendship forever, but at times like this, Kirk may have had a point about her being a bit…kindergarten teacher. 

She laughed at his sort of scrunched-up expression. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking and you’re right! It's a little silly, but the engineers that were on that dock were all Ensigns! Like, fresh out of Starfleet! They probably miss their families, and now they have a nasty purple rash to worry about. I just thought they might like a card.” 

McCoy could say for certain that he had never met anyone quite like Lieutenant Sunshine - and realized he never would again. This was incredibly kind, and wholly unnecessary… and a very Sunshine thing to do. Though one important question still lingered. 

“And you’re doing this in my office because…?”

She shrugged. 

“Well I could do it in my quarters, but I figured you could use the company.” She paused. Before adding sheepishly, “And I wanted the company.”

McCoy coughed to cover up his surprise. Though, he wasn’t sure what else he was expecting. Sunshine was known for being candid with her feelings. Most of them anyway. His cheeks dusted pink. 

Sunshine, oblivious to her friend's blushing, tossed a colored pencil and a card his way.

 “You should sign this one, by the way. A little birdie told me you yelled at Ensign Barlowe while taking her vitals, and I’m sure she’d appreciate a card from you.” 

He internally damned Scotty, who was not only probably the ‘little birdie’ but also definitely put her up to this. 

He stared down at the card, forcing his head to stop running a mile a minute, and finally mustered a scoff. 

“I’m not signing an apology card because an Ensign couldn’t sit still on the Biobed.” 

Sunshine shook her head and giggled. God, what a sound, he thought. 

“It’s a get well soon card, not an apology card. And I’m not scolding you, Len. That day must have been stressful. I mean, fourteen engineers all turning purple? Crazy. I could never do your job.” 

He shook his head. He was pretty sure Sunshine could do anything she put her mind to. His mind wandered briefly to what it would be like, with her by his side, decked in Science Blue. His heart stuttered at the image. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he found himself scribbling ‘feel better’ onto the bottom of the paper, and tossing it back to her. The smile that bloomed on her face told him it was the right decision. 

He leaned back in the chair and watched her thoughtfully. The sound of her voice played on repeat like a record in his head. He found himself ruminating on every pretty syllable she spoke. 

“Kirk hurt your feelings?” he blurted, remembering how she got here. Sunshine paused, surprised by his suddenness. An unreadable look passed over her frowning face.

“He just said a dumb joke, it’s nothing to worry about. Promise.” Her smile returned, just as quickly as it left. Leonard tilted his head. He was expecting her to launch into a story of which he would hang on every word and that would give him fuel to berate Kirk with later. Just how badly did Kirk fuck up?

“I can practically hear you thinking, you know. You’re such a worrywart.” Her eyes playfully flicked from her cards to him. “Like I said, it’s fine.” 

“You sure? If you’re mad enough, I could schedule him for a measles vaccine. Maybe a booster shot too.” 

Her laugh echoed around his office and illuminated it like a fire. He smiled, finding hers to be contagious. 

“That’s gotta be malpractice, Len. Hard no from me.” She shook her head. 

“Malpractice? I’d be doing him a favor. That man avoids healthcare like it’s the plague.” 

Sunshine rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Doctor.” 

She looked like she belonged, he thought. Sitting in his office, in his chair. He allowed himself a brief moment of peace, as he sipped his coffee and watched her switch colored pencils. He was content to just watch her like this, without conversation or reason. Unfortunately, nothing can last forever. His eyes drifted toward the ticking clock. 

“You know I have to get back to work eventually, right?” Not that he wanted to leave, at all. In fact, if time allowed, and if he didn't know Chapel would be beating down his door soon, he would stay cooped up in his office with her for hours. 

She laughed. “Yeah, I know, CMO. I’m starting my rounds soon too. All I could squeeze from Kirk was 15 minutes down here.” 

Leonard blew a raspberry. 

“I wish I could get 15 minutes away.”

Her head quirked. 

“Don't you have some time? Chapel told me you weren't busy, or else I wouldn't have bothered you.” She paused and received the pointed look from her friend. “Okay, I probably still would have, but with more poise and apologeticness - but that's beside the point!” Sunshine began stacking up her cards and putting away her colored pencils. “Chapel specifically said you weren’t busy when she let me in!” 

The gears in Leonard’s head turned. He was very, very far from not being busy. The Medbay had been as bustling as ever this shift, and the only reason he left in the first place was by Chapel's suggestion, who swore she could handle things for a few minutes. 

Damn it, Chapel. 

“Len? Everything alright?” 

When his eyes pulled from the ground, Sunshine was right in front of him, with a questioning smile. Leonard felt blood rush to his face at their proximity. She smelled like… well, sunshine. And flowers. And just… good.

“Yeah, fine,” he said gruffly. 

“Walk me out?” 

“Of course.” 

He dared to place his hand on the small of her back as he led her out, and if he paid just a little more attention, he would have seen her cheeks redden at the contact. 

They exited in tandem, with Sunshine rambling about wishing rounds were any other day, and how the last thing she wanted to do was run around the ship checking up on complaints that ‘could easily be solved in an email.’ 

“Well,” she said as they reached the entrance. “Thanks for letting me hide in your office for a few.” 

He waved his hand. “Anytime,” he said with lighthearted sarcasm. 

She placed the cards on the reception desk and snorted, “You’ll regret saying that, McCoy.”

He replied, with all sincerity, “I doubt that.” 

They were both quiet for a moment, looking at one another, eyes glossing over with adoration. 

Sunshine had always admired the doctor's strength, and his drive to help others in all circumstances. 

Leonard would forever be in awe of her kindness and her unwavering spirit.

A cleared throat broke both of their gazes. Sunshine flinched, nearly dropping her papers. 

“Chapel! Hi! Thanks for letting me use Len’s office.” She laughed nervously, awkwardly dropping the stack of cards on the desk. “You’ll make sure the engineers get these?”

Chapel glanced between the two knowingly. Both of which now refused to make eye contact. Leonard was suddenly very interested in the linoleum floors and Sunshine in the plain white ceiling. 

“Of course, Lieutenant,” the head nurse said politely. Sunshine thanked her again before acknowledging Leonard. 

“Have a good shift, and, um, see you later!” she blurted before hightailing out of the medbay like it was suffocating her.

The Doctor watched her go with the sudden sinking feeling that he’d done something wrong. And as usual, when these feelings began to well within him, he took them out on whoever was closest, or, in this case, responsible. 

“Really, Chapel?” 

He leaned over the reception desk. 

The woman in question stared at her manicured nails without a care in the world. 

“Really, what, Doctor?” 

Leonard gritted his teeth impossibly hard and blew a long breath out of his nostrils. 

“You didn’t think to, oh I dunno, warn me before letting someone in my office in the middle of the work day?” 

He wasn’t angry at her, not really. He was more frustrated with the feelings that clawed up his chest whenever he heard Sunshine’s laugh or the constant feeling to reach out for her -

No, he wasn’t really mad at Chapel. 

But that wasn’t going to stop him from acting like he was. 

“It’s just Sunshine,” the woman shrugged. “Would you have preferred I turned her away?” She finally met Leonards's eyes with just as much ferocity as he was giving her. 

“No,” he gritted out, “but a warning would be preferable.” 

She rolled her eyes and returned to her work. 

“Just trying to move things along, Doctor.” 

He stomped away before his head nurse could add anything else. 

He returned to his office, palms sweating, and tried not to focus on the smell of her warm, floral perfume now hanging in the air.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

The Worst Double Date

"How did I let you talk me into this?" 

Midge give him an innocent look as she spritzes a little perfume on her wrists and dabs behind her ears. "I plied you with liquor and sexual favors," she reminds him.

Lenny snaps a finger and shakes his head. "That's right. That blow job really scrambled my brain."

Midge laughs and gets to her feet, wrapping her arms around him. "We'll go. We'll have a couple drinks. Eat a little dinner…"

"Avoid jokes about pencil sharpeners…" 

"Eh, maybe we won't be that nice," Midge smirks wickedly. 

"You, Miss Weissman, are not allowed to look at me that way," he tells her, pulling her closer. "Not if you're expecting to leave the house."

She kisses him lightly. "I promise it will all be worth it."

"We're spending an entire evening with your ex and the woman he cheated on you with," Lenny points out. 

"And then we're going back to your place," Midge reminds him. "Where you'll get to see my new corset." 

He freezes, lifting an eyebrow. "New, you say?"

"I do say."

"Color?"

"You'll find out after dinner."

Lenny huffs out a breath. "Fine. It'll be worth it."

***** 

Joel cannot stop tapping his foot on the club’s floor. 

Midge had been entirely too gracious about this whole thing. Since she and Lenny are the ones with the crazy schedules, she’d let him pick the place. She made sure the kids were well taken care of. 

Hell, the fact that hi ex-wife had agreed to this idea in the first place was a red flag in Joel’s eyes. 

But here he sits, next to his girlfriend, waiting for his ex-wife and her fiance to show up. 

He’d just figured…well…if they’re gonna be trading kids back and forth, and they’re both going to have new partners, they should at least try to make an effort not to hate said partners. 

Midge had loved Mei; respected the hell out of Mei.

But Mei is gone, with their son. God knows where. And in her place…

Is Penny Pann.

Midge thinks very little of Penny. 

Joel used to think the world of Lenny Bruce, but then he found out about him and Midge. That kind of shit certainly has a way of changing your mind about a guy. 

But he’s gotta try, right? Try to make this work.

For the kids.

And for himself, because fuck does he want to be friends with Lenny Bruce, and fuck does he not want to piss off Midge, who is not only the mother of his children, but now an Emmy winner.

And really, all of this was Archie’s idea.

“Make nice. Don’t piss off two of the biggest names in comedy or they’ll tell all of their comedy friends not to play our club.” 

Jesus does Joel hate when Archie is right. 

“You worry too much,” Penny tells him, reaching out and taking his hand. “It’s just Midge and whatever guy she’s with this time, right?” 

“She’s marrying him,” Joel tells her. “And he’s Lenny Bruce.” 

Penny blinks. “Who?” 

Fuck’s sake.

There’s a commotion in the club as people start to turn their heads, and Joel joins them. His stomach drops immediately as he spots Midge and Lenny walking in.

These are not the Midge and Lenny who come to family dinners. These are not the Midge and Lenny who pick up the kids every week. He’s not even sure these are the Midge and Lenny from their gigs or TV shows. 

No. These are the Midge and Lenny who show up to an event, dressed impeccably. Lenny’s suit is freshly pressed and well-fitting. Midge’s dress is black with a swirling blue design on every other pleat of its skirt. 

They look perfect.

They look like stars. 

And this was on purpose.

Joel glowers at Midge as she says hello to a few people, still holding Lenny’s arm as they make their way over at a leisurely pace. 

“Wow,” Penny breathes, obviously a little stunned. “She’s come a long way from the Revlon counter…” 

“Yeah,” Joel grouses. He gets to his feet as they step over, though Lenny takes a moment, chatting with someone he obviously knows. 

Midge grins at them as Lenny joins her. “Hi, Joel. Penny.” 

“Hey,” Joel says. “You uh…you’re not as late as usual.” 

“That would be my fault,” Lenny chimes in. “I wanted to get out the door before Abe dragged me into another Castro debate.” 

“Right,” Joel says mildly. 

Penny clears her throat softly. 

“Midge, you remember Penny,” he says quickly. 

“Hard to forget,” Midge comments, giving Penny a polite smile. “Hi.” 

“Midge,” Penny responds evenly. 

“Penny, this is my fiance, Lenny,” Midge tells her. “Lenny, this is Penny.” 

“Our names rhyme,” Penny comments, trying for a smile. “That’s funny.” 

“Funny haha or funny peculiar?” Lenny asks curiously. 

Joel fights hard not to roll his eyes. “Everyone have a seat.” 

“Penny never got up,” Midge points out. “So she can’t have a seat. She’s already got one.” 

Lenny dramatically pulls a chair out for Midge, and Joel knows it’s mostly to derail that line of commentary. “Now you have one, too.” 

Midge grins and kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” 

Joel sits as well, when Lenny sits, and knows in his very soul, that this night cannot end fast enough.

***** 

It is rare, Lenny thinks as he sits quietly at the table, to stumble across a person quite as dimwitted as Penny Pann.

Or someone quite so bitter. 

Because for whatever fucking reason, this woman clearly has not let go of the fact that sometime at the end of 1958, Joel nearly went back to Midge, and even though he didn’t, he still left Penny the first time. 

“So,” Penny says breezily. “Midge.” 

“Penny,” Midge says, lifting her chin, her blue gaze landing on the other woman. “How are you?” 

“Oh, I’m fine,” Penny tells her. “Great, actually. What about you? Sleep with any husbands lately?” 

Joel is about to open his mouth and interject, but Lenny knows better. Midge has this handled. 

“Not recently,” Midge tells her. “It’s been a couple of years, but I guess when Lenny and I get married, I’ll be sleeping with a husband.” 

“Right now she’s just sleeping with a former husband,” Lenny chimes in. 

“Maybe let’s talk about something else,” Joel snaps. “Lenny. Any good shows coming up?” 

“I’ll be out of town for a couple weeks, traveling the Mid-Atlantic and New England,” he tells them. “Baltimore. Boston. Philly. Those kindsa places.” 

“Nice,” Joel nods evenly. “You got gigs for here in the city lined up?” 

“Mostly for the fall,” Lenny shrugs. “I’m taking a little vacation in August to move my daughter from LA to my apartment here. Things are going well enough, and I have the space, and I miss her like crazy.” 

Joel frowns deeply, confused. “You have a kid?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t I know that?” 

“Because I don’t know you very well,” Lenny reminds him. 

“You don’t talk about your kid in your act?” Joel asks, still confused.

“I don’t have that kind of act,” Lenny says. “And my kid doesn’t stare at me in creepy silence for twenty straight minutes without blinking.” 

Midge laughs at that. “In my defense, I was high when I did that set.” 

Penny looks alarmed. “You were high?!” 

“It was a few puffs from a joint,” Lenny waves her off. “It was one night and it was nothing.” 

“That’s illegal,” Penny whispers loudly. 

“So is most of my act still,” Lenny shrugs. “Give it another fifty years, I bet you won’t be able to round a street corner without smelling the devil’s lettuce.” 

Joel rubs his face. “Why don’t we order drinks? Who wants drinks?” 

“Oh! Martini, up, olives, so many olives, three olives,” Midge says quietly.

“Two fingers of whiskey on the rocks for me, please,” Lenny adds. 

“A grasshopper for me,” Penny chimes in.

“Joel will fix that,” Midge blurts out. 

Penny frowns. “Fix what?” 

Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she squares her shoulder. “Nothing.” 

Lenny frowns a little. He recognizes that posture on Midge. That stressed out, ‘I was in an emotionally abusive marriage and I didn’t realize it until he left me’ posture. He brushes his fingers against hers under the table and she hooks hers with his tightly, and when he looks at her face, she’s giving him a grateful smile. 

“I’ll be back with the drinks,” Joel says awkwardly as he gets to his feet and rushes. 

Lenny nods, but turns his attention back to Midge, lifting his eyebrows in a ‘you okay?’ kind of expression. 

She nods and smiles sheepishly, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes briefly, and he presses a light kiss to her temple.

****

Penny frowns as she watches Joel rush off, and then turns to find Midge and Lenny in a world all their own.

She remembers her first relationship with Joe. How he’d talked about Midge. How controlling she’d been. How heartless. How disinterested in Joel’s dreams she was. How frigid she could be.

Watching her now (though trying not to look like she’s watching as she sips her water), Penny sees someone who doesn’t seem to fit that description. She looks at Lenny like he hung the moon. Like his very presence at the table next to her is lifting her spirits. 

Lenny is giving her a soft, adoring grin, obviously happy to be here with Midge; making the most of what is, honestly, an awkward night.

Penny knows she looks at Joel that way. She’s…not sure Joel has ever looked that way at her in return.

And suddenly, it hits Penny like a baseball bat to the head.

Midge moved on.

Mei is gone.

She is a consolation prize. 

Joel is settling for her. There are two women Joel would rather be with.

Penny isn’t one of them.

Tears threaten her as she watches Midge rest her head comfortably on Lenny’s shoulder, and his lips brush a light kiss to her temple, as if that’s something they do all the time.

Because it probably is. 

“Excuse me,” Penny jokes out as she messily gets to her feet and rushes for the bathroom. 

***** 

Midge watches Penny stumble off and sighs softly. “Fuck.” 

“Here?” Lenny asks curiously. “Now?” 

“She’s upset,” Midge tells him. 

“Well…she’s seeing Joel,” Lenny points out. “So…” 

“Where’s Penny?” Joel asks as he sets their drinks down on the table. 

“She went to the bathroom,” Midge tells him. “Something upset her.” 

“What’d you say?” Joel snaps, looking upset.  

“Literally nothing,” Midge bites back quickly.

“Well, go see what’s wrong.” 

“Me?” 

“You’re the woman at this table,” Joel points out. “I can’t go into the ladies’ room, neither can Lenny.” 

“I can,” Lenny corrects him. “It’s a question of should.” 

“You’re making jokes now?” Joel asks, quickly getting heated.

“It’s kind of my entire thing,” Lenny shrugs. “And also, my previous statement is true.” 

Midge huffs out a breath and gets to her feet. “I’ll go.” 

“Thank you,” Joel snaps, obviously not at all grateful.

Midge doesn’t respond as she heads for the ladies’ room.

***** 

Regina Dalton has been privy to some wild-ass white people conversations. As the attendant in the ladies’ room at a very fancy club, there are times when she wishes she were anywhere but here, listening to these wild, insane, sometimes doped-up conversations.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

Tonight, Midge Maisel walks into the bathroom looking like a woman on a mission.

“Mrs. Maisel!” Regina chirps. “I saw you at the Apollo a few years ago, you killed that night!” 

The other woman beams at her in a way that’s polite, but genuine. “Thank you so much. That’s really kind. I’m really glad you enjoyed the show.” 

“Not bad for a white girl in Harlem,” Regina jokes, making the comedienne laugh. 

“That’s really all I could have hoped for that night,” Midge tells her. She lowers her voice. “Hey - did a dark-haired, upset-looking woman in a green dress come rushing in here?” 

Regina nods and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Yes, she did. Ugly crying and everything.” 

“Oy,” Midge sighs okay. “Okay. Thank you for letting me know what to expect.” 

“Friend of yours?” 

“Ex-husband’s girlfriend,” Midge explains. “If you come to a future show, I’m sure I’ll have plenty more to say.” 

Regina tries hard to not giggle at that as she watches Midge head down the row of toilet stalls. 

***** 

“So,” Joel says awkwardly. 

Lenny sips his drink, staring back at the younger man silently. 

Joel knows he’s doing it on purpose. Joel knows damn well that Lenny thinks that putting Midge through an entire evening of sitting across from the man who broke her heart and the woman who helped him do it is bullshit. 

Joel finds it hard to fault the guy. He’s probably at least a little right. And if MIdge and Joel hadn’t had children, they wouldn’t be doing this. They wouldn’t be in each others’ lives anymore. It would have been a clean break four years ago.

As it stands, Joel feels like this can’t be helped. 

“I know you don’t like me,” Joel says. 

Lenny doesn’t respond. He just sits back in his seat, tall frame taking up quite a lot of room in a way that’s casual and somehow imposing at the same time.

“I know you think this entire night is a terrible idea.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Lenny points out. “You asked to go on this double date. To try and bury the hatchet on some old heartaches, and Midge said yes. So here I am.” 

Joel nods. 

“The difference is that when Midge brought this entire cockamamie idea to my attention, she took the time to ask me to be understanding. To behave a little. Show a little compassion for a couple of people I don’t really have any compassion for.” 

“Jeez, you really don’t like me,” Joel mutters. 

“Why should I like you?” Lenny asks. 

Joel stares at him. 

Lenny shrugs. “I suppose I should thank you. If it weren’t for your wandering dick, Midge and I never would have met. But here is what I do not understand about tonight.” 

“What?” Joel asks. 

“Why not take Penny aside and ask her to show a little kindness?” Lenny asks. 

“You think I didn’t?” Joel snaps. “Come on, I know I’m an asshole, but I’m not that bad.” 

“So she just didn’t listen,” Lenny surmises. “Knew you were looking for a friendly ceasefire and she fired shots off the bat?” 

Joel sighs heavily. “Yeah.” 

It’s not the whole truth. And they both know it. Joel squirms a little in his seat, fiddling withis empty glass.

Lenny takes a larger sip of his drink. 

“No,” Joel amends. “I told her I wanted it to be a nice night. I didn’t ask her to hold off on the insults.” 

“So you are that bad,” Lenny says. 

“Yeah.” 

He gets no other response. 

***** 

“Go away, Midge.” 

Midge takes a breath and closes her eyes, letting it out slowly as she stands outside the stall that Penny Pann has commandeered. “Look, I know that you hate my guts because I slept with Joel when he and I were still technically married, even though he’d walked out on me.” 

She gets no response. 

“But it’s been a few years now,” Midge goes on. “Maybe we could just…not be such raging assholes to each other going forward?” 

“It’s not about Joel,” Penny blurts out tearily. “Well it is, but it’s not about you and Joel. It’s about- about you and Lenny.” 

Midge frowns. “Me and Lenny? What about us?” 

“It’s just- you’re so happy together!” 

Midge purses her lips and looks down at the engagement ring on her finger. A modest-sized but just about perfect diamond on a rose gold band (“you like pink so much, I thought it’d be good. It felt like you.”). “We are happy.” 

“I want to be that happy,” Penny says quietly. 

“It’s not easy,” Midge admits after a moment. “I thought it was. When I was with Joel, it certainly seemed easy. But I was wrong. And Lenny has never been an easy man to love, mostly because he’s not very good at loving himself, which is - an entirely different topic of conversation that you don’t need in your life right now. Or - ever. But being happy in a relationship takes time and work. And if one or both of you isn’t willing to put it in, then it’s not going to happen. Or you think it’s happening but it turns out to be bullshit.” 

A startled gasp sounds from a woman heading to another stall. 

“Oh, please, we’re in the ladies room of a club that doesn’t allow kids under the age of eighteen in,” Midge snaps. “Get a grip.” 

Penny gives a watery giggle at that. 

“You want Joel?” Midge asks. 

“Y-Yes.” 

“Do the work,” Midge shrugs. “If he’s not willing to do it with you, he is not the one.” 

“He is the one. He’s always been the one.” 

“I thought so too,” Midge says softly. “I was wrong.” 

“I’m not you.” 

“Thank fuck,” Midge mutters.

“I heard that!” 

Midge doesn’t dignify that with an answer. “You ready to come back out or you need a few more minutes?” 

“...A few more minutes?” 

Midge nods. “I’ll wait.” 

***** 

It takes a few more minutes for the two women to come back from the ladies’ room, and when they do, Lenny reaches out, taking Midge’s hand and tugging her down to have a seat on his knee. 

She looks…

“Hi,” she says with a sad smile. 

“Hello,” he returns, tilting his head. “You okay?” 

Midge nods and closes her eyes briefly. “I think we’re gonna call it. Tonight’s not the night.” 

Lenny nods, thinking that over, glancing at Penny as she sits stiffly next to Joel before turning back to Midge. “Pizza? Chinese? Burgers?” 

“French fries sound so fucking good right now,” she breathes out, her shoulders relaxing. 

“Then I will buy you French fries,” he grins, helping her to her feet before getting to his own. He turns to Joel and Penny - neither of whom get to their feet. “Well. Tonight was…a night of the week. We’ll see you around.” 

Midge chuckles a little and nudges Lenny along. “Goodnight, you two.” 

Joel gets to his feet abruptly then, telling Penny he’ll be right back as he follows them towards the door. 

“Midge.” 

Lenny turns back, watching as Midge turns to look at Joel. 

“Penny loves you,” she says softly, though Lenny can still hear her. “Really loves you. Don’t fuck it up.” 

With that, she takes Lenny by the hand, and tugs him out. 

“We didn’t pay for our drinks, you know,” he reminds her, amused.

“No we didn’t,” Midge nods. “I just spent a good fifteen minutes comforting the woman who helped ruin my first marriage. She can buy us a couple of drinks.” 

Lenny tugs her close, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, kissing the side of her head. “All the French fries you can handle.” 

“Hell, yes.” 

END

[caashmoneynae]

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

❦

POETIC JUSTICE.

JOEY BADA$$ x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Devyn secretly has a crush on Jo-Vaughn and her crush on him is revealed through him reading her poetry. ✨

❦

𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗬𝗡 sat with her face against the palm of her hand as she listened to her professor preach about body language. since she wanted to be a psychologist, she took courses that talked about behaviors, brain development, body language, mental states, and more. though most times it seemed as if she was bored due to her resting face, she actually found the classes very interesting and loved hearing her professors talk so passionately about the subject they were teaching.

Devyn's pencil gently tapped against her cheek as her eyes began to wander around the classroom, her gaze slowly landing on Jo-Vaughn while she watched him write in his notebook. she watched his dreads slightly sway with the movement of his wrist as she analyzed him from head to toe. he wore a black bandanna atop his head and four of his dreads — two on the left, two on the right — rested on the sides of his face as the rest were pulled back into a low bun, his tongue gently running over his lips while he wrote on his paper. his attire consisted of a black sweatshirt with black sweatpants to match and two earrings sat in his ears as his cologne gently tickled Devyn's nose even though she was in the row behind him.

to Devyn, Jo-Vaughn made the simplest outfits look good, and his matching sweatshirt and sweatpants were surely doing their job of making him more appealing to her. she didn't want to admit it because she felt as if it was embarrassing, but she had a crush on Jo-Vaughn, and luckily for her, she hid it well, so he didn't know and neither did any of the other students.

knowing how observant her professor was, however, she most likely figured it out by now.

grabbing her poetry notebook from her tote bag, Devyn gently sat it on her desk as she flipped through old poems and found an empty page, gripping her pencil while she lowered her hand down onto the page.

his eyelashes fluttered gracefully as he looked down,

his pencil moving effortlessly across his paper.

his hand holding down the sheet,

his writing utensil being the shaper.

his cologne danced in my nose like a toddler,

his eyes as beautiful as can be.

though it made me nervous,

i loved when he looked at me.

his voice was relaxing,

his speech was charming.

surprisingly he didn't have a girlfriend,

and to me it was alarming.

a man that handsome,

a man that intelligent.

a man that had an amazing personality,

a man that was heaven-sent.

he doesn't always see me,

but i always see him.

i love the atmosphere when he's around,

but my chances of being with him are slim.

as if on cue with her last line, the bell rang, indicating that class had ended and the students were free to do what they pleased since it was the end of the day. closing her poetry notebook and her regular notebook, Devyn listened to the commotion in the classroom as she stuffed them in her bag and stood up from her seat, tossing her pencil inside the bag as well while she made her way to the door.

pulling her hood onto her head, Devyn adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she walked through the hall filled with conversing students and walked out the double doors of the school, making her way to the girls' dorm while she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

Devyn didn't have many friends, so she stayed to herself most of the time. the only friend she had was her roommate Toni, but the two weren't together a lot because Toni was an extroverted party girl and Devyn wasn't, so the only times they were seen together were in the two classes they shared, at lunch, and their dorm.

Toni was a cool girl that kept her space clean, got her work done, and knew how to mind her business, so Devyn rocked with her and trusted her like a sister.

fortunately for Devyn, none of the classes they shared had Jo-Vaughn in them, so Toni didn't know Devyn liked him and couldn't see her secretly fawn over the attractive man.

"damn, girl, how'd you get in here before me?" Devyn asked, chuckling, as she closed the dorm's door behind her and walked over to her side of the room, making Toni giggle while she looked over at her.

"i got a date, D. you know Destin, right?" Toni asked, smoothing out her brown bootcut corduroy pants, as Devyn chuckled and pulled her hood off of her burgundy silk-pressed hair, running her fingers over her scalp and smoothing down any flyaways.

"ain't that the dude with dreads that be with Jo-Vaughn and Denzel?" Devyn asked, setting her tote bag down in the chair she had next to her dresser, as she grabbed her poetry notebook and pencil out of it and placed it in her other tote bag with her blanket and snacks, slinging the bag over her shoulder while she adjusted her beige cargo pants on her waist and pushed her phone deeper inside her back pocket.

"yes ma'am, that's him. we been talkin' for 'bout a week now and he asked me on our first official date a few minutes ago and told me to meet him by the benches at the front of the school since, you know, they don't allow boys over here," Toni explained, chuckling while she adjusted her brown long-sleeve crop-top, as she grabbed her necklace and signaled for Devyn to come towards her, "and before you ask, he asked me to match with him, so that's why i got all this brown on."

"just because they don't allow it doesn't mean that shit still doesn't happen," Devyn chuckled, earning a laugh from Toni, as she walked over to her and helped her fasten her necklace, making Toni smile while she adjusted it to her liking, "but i hope you have a good date, T. he seems like a sweetheart if you ask me."

"thank you, my brown suga' bae," Toni smiled, earning a smile from Devyn, as she noticed the bag on Devyn's shoulder and reached towards her bed to grab her jacket, "you must be goin' to ya tree? 'cause that's the only time i ever see you with it."

Toni called Devyn her "brown suga' bae" not only because she was brown-skinned, but because her favorite song was "Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo, which she played religiously. Devyn's favorite genre of music was Neo-Soul, and apart from D'Angelo, she listened to Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, Raphael Saadiq, Lauryn Hill, and more Neo-Soul legends. she loved Neo-Soul because it brought her peace and she loved to listen to it while she meditated, wrote poetry, walked the halls, and did homework. occasionally she listened to rap music by various artists, but Neo-Soul had her heart, and she'd never let it go.

as for the tree Toni mentioned, there was a big tree on a small hill behind their college that she sat under most days because she loved to sit in nature and be outdoors, hence the blanket inside her bag. sometimes she did her homework up there, and if she wasn't doing homework, she was writing poetry. she loved listening to the birds chirp and the tree limbs blowing in the wind as she worked. she liked to stare up into the sky and watch the clouds sway and turn into different shapes of many different objects because the clouds were her favorite part of the sky. sometimes the football team would practice behind the school and if Devyn was back there when it happened, she'd watch them and occasionally wave to the ones who waved at her first.

Devyn was a girl who was big on her peace of mind, keeping her energy positive and pure, and nature, and it was evident in the things she did and the way she dressed.

"yup. since it's Friday and i finished all my homework and other work that i didn't get to finish when it was due, i'ma go relax by my tree," Devyn smiled, watching Toni grab her jacket, as she pulled her hood back onto her head and made her way to the door, "have fun on ya date, T."

"have fun at your tree, DeeDee!"

—

laying out her blanket, Devyn adjusted it to her liking as she sat down on it, setting her bag beside her while she looked out into the open field of freshly cut grass and flowers. the sun softly shined on her skin as she removed her hood from her head, smoothing down her hair while she took off her shoes and sat them next to her bag. pushing her hair behind her ear, Devyn looked up into the blue sky and let out a soft sigh, feeling the gentle breeze run through her silk-pressed tresses while her muscles relaxed.

Devyn enjoyed the peace being alone brought her. that's one of the reasons why she didn't have any friends apart from Toni. she liked being alone because she didn't have to worry about anyone fucking up her energy or messing up her peace, and she's been that way since she was in high school.

she'd rather be by herself all the time than be with people who radiated negative energy or who could potentially disturb her peace, regardless of who the person was and what they were to her.

pulling her notebook out of her bag, Devyn grabbed her pencil and opened the book as she flipped to an empty page, smiling at seeing the poem she wrote about Jo-Vaughn while she gripped her pencil and began to write.

the yellow sun shined above me,

showering the land with as much light as can be.

it made the earth more lively,

it made the plants sprout with glee.

the blue sky crowded with clouds,

the large fluffy white blotches hanging above me.

i loved to watch them float through the air,

sometimes they let rain free.

ladybugs littered the grass,

some crawling onto my clothing.

adult animals spending time with their young,

sometimes even sleeping, their eyes closing.

the cool breeze sang amongst the city,

whispering in my ear as it blew my hair.

the tree limbs swinging as if they were dancing,

causing some to stop and stare.—

"mind if i join you?" a voice asked, making Devyn jump, as she raised her head and locked eyes with a smiling Jo-Vaughn, causing her to smile with him while he chuckled softly, "my bad, i ain't mean to scare you, Devyn. i just saw you up here by ya'self and wanted to see if you needed some company."

"you're fine, Jo-Vaughn, i was just zoned out a lil'," Devyn chuckled softly, grabbing her bag and her shoes, as she moved them to her right side and patted the seat next to her while she looked up at him, "you can join me, i don't mind."

Jo-Vaughn smiled as he squatted down and sat next to her, taking off his shoes and sitting them on the left side of him to show courtesy to her blanket. his right leg grazed her left one and Devyn gently bit down on her inner jaw to suppress her blushing as she closed her notebook and Jo-Vaughn looked around, his eyes scanning the scenery in awe.

"now i see why you always up here... it's peaceful out here, yo." Jo-Vaughn complimented, making Devyn look over at him, as she secretly analyzed his side profile and chuckled softly.

"how you know i'm always up here?" Devyn asked, playfully raising a brow at the man, as Jo-Vaughn looked over at her and cracked a small smile.

"I BE LOOKIN' FOR YOU SOMETIMES, DEV'. whenever i ask Toni where you at, she always says "she up unda' that tree", so i decided to come look for you today. i see what the hype's 'bout now, it's beautiful up here," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, making Devyn smile, as she pushed her hair behind her ear and looked out into the empty field while Jo-Vaughn's eyes lingered on her before his gaze landed in her notebook, "how come you always carry around that notebook? i always see it with you whenever you walkin' around campus or in class."

"it's my poetry notebook. i write my poems in here whenever i get bored or feel inspired by something," Devyn explained, smiling at him taking interest in her, as she looked over at him and her heart skipped a beat at realizing he was staring at her the whole time, "and since when have you ever wanted to see me? we barely even speak to each other."

"just 'cause we barely speak to each other don't mean you don't intrigue me, Devyn. you give me mysterious vibes sometimes. like, you just exist silently and always have either a hood or a beanie on ya head while you stay nose-deep in ya notebook. something about you interests me and i can't help but stare sometimes... i'm surprised you haven't noticed it yet." Jo-Vaughn chuckled as the two young adults smiled in sync and Devyn let out a sheepish chuckle.

"...you... stare at me?" Devyn asked, her voice soft due to her growing shy, as her dark brown eyes stared into his and her pencil gradually slid out of her hand and into her lap with her notebook.

"yeah, i do. you a beautiful girl, Devyn. and i know you got a beautiful soul, too," Jo-Vaughn smiled, the wind picking up and blowing strands of Devyn's hair in her face, as Jo-Vaughn pushed her hair behind her ear before she had a chance to and Devyn slightly blushed at his actions while her palms slightly grew sweaty, "you mind if i read ya poems, beautiful?"

feeling mesmerized by him, Devyn stared at the man as she grabbed her notebook and handed it to him, allowing him to read what she's written while she blinked a few times to bring herself back to reality. his fingertips grazed hers as he grabbed the notebook from her hand, making butterflies cloud her stomach while she watched him open it and read the first page.

"...apart from my "mysteriousness", what made you intrigued by me, Joey?" Devyn asked, calling the man by his nickname, as Jo-Vaughn smiled and glanced over at her while he flipped to the next page.

"your demeanor. i like the vibe you give off and the way you carry yourself. your aura radiates the definition of peace," Jo-Vaughn explained, flipping to the next page, as he suddenly paused and his smile slightly spread wider, letting Devyn know he had discovered one of the poems she wrote about him, "plus, i like that you always smell like cocoa butter and vanilla. you remind me of Erykah Badu in a way."

the last four poems Devyn had written in her notebook were about Jo-Vaughn, and if you paid attention, which most didn't, you'd realize that the title of each poem spelled out his nickname — "J.O.E.Y." Devyn had completely forgotten about those poems due to how smitten she was by Jo-Vaughn's charm, and if she remembered them before being hypnotized by his pretty eyes, she most likely wouldn't have given him her notebook out of embarrassment.

"how would there be a slim chance of us being together if I LIKE YOU, Devyn?" Jo-Vaughn's voice made Devyn snap out of her thoughts as she looked over at him, seeing him look over at her with a small grin and a raised brow.

"not gon' lie, i had a feeling you liked me 'cause Destin told me, but i ain't wanna believe it until you approached me, so i just kept my crush on you to myself." Devyn admitted, chuckling, as she rubbed her palms onto her pants and Jo-Vaughn chuckled with her.

"i wanted to tell you, but it was kinda' hard for me to figure out the right time 'cause you always looked like you ain't wanna be bothered," Jo-Vaughn chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, as he pulled her closer to him while Devyn chuckled and wrapped her arm around his waist, "but, i guess right now is the best time for me to say it, huh?"

"say it, Joey." Devyn giggled softly, looking up at him, as Jo-Vaughn looked down at her and the two smiled at each other while Jo-Vaughn chuckled.

"I LIKE YOU, DEEDEE. I HAVE FOR A WHILE NOW. WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?" Jo-Vaughn confessed, using Devyn's nickname and making her smile widen, as she twirled one of his dreads around her finger and giggled shyly.

"I LIKE YOU TOO, J. AND OF COURSE, I'LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND." Devyn smiled, running her fingers down his jawline, as her fingertips hooked underneath his chin and their eyes flickered between each other's eyes and lips before their faces moved closer and their lips suddenly locked, the two sharing a sweet and loving kiss while butterflies filled both of their stomachs.

their lips moved slowly in sync as Jo-Vaughn's hand rested on her legs, pulling them onto his lap while he pulled her closer to him. slowly pulling away from the kiss, the young adults stared into each other's eyes before chuckling together, sharing another small kiss while Devyn rested her head on his shoulder.

"yo, Dev'... you know how you said you write most of ya poems when you feel inspired by something?" Jo-Vaughn asked, setting Devyn's notebook in between them, as Devyn looked up at him and nodded her head, waiting for him to continue, "does that mean that the poems you wrote 'bout me was inspired by me?"

raising her head from his shoulder, Devyn chuckled softly and smiled as she looked into his eyes and kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck before parting his lips to speak.

"You're my muse for every single one, Jo-Vaughn."

[pudgy-planets]

“Hello boys… and girl. How’re you doing today, hm? You know who we are?”

“Nishikawa Junko and Tomioka Homare…?”

“Ding, ding~ We’re associates of Kanon Quinn as you know. You remember Miss Quinn, don’t you?”

“…Maybe.”

“I’m gonna go on a limb here… You’re associate president of the journalism club AND head writer of the school’s magazine, Anthony Hairsplitter! Or should I say, Chitose Karakanta.”

“…Y-yes, that’s me, what of it?””

“Apologies for dropping in unexpectedly while you and your little posse were having breakfast, what are you having, hm?”

“Burgers and… Shakes…”

“Burgers!! The centerpiece of any delicious breakfast. What kind?”

“Cheeseburgers, obviously-”

“No, no, no, no- Shut up. I didn’t ask what kind of burgers, I asked where are they from? WgRonalds? Wendell’s? Jack and the BeanShack? Where from?”

“Uh… The S-Scotsman’s Riverbed…”

“The Scotnan’s Riverbed? That’s the Scottish burger restaurant, right? I hear they’ve got some delicious burgers. Lamb and pretzel buns with a hint of tartness from the Greek yogurt they use! Never got around to trying them… how are they?”

“They’re passable, I suppose.”

“Mind if I try one of yours? This is your here, right?”

Omareki taps her manicured finger atop the crossed shaped mark adorning the rich, pretzel bun, eventually grasping it between her thumb and first two fingers. She sank her teeth into the burger, a trail of juice ebbing down the corner of her lip as she groaned contentedly from its taste.

“Hmm~ This is a tasty burger! You really taste the supple, somewhat sweet flavor of the lamb. Sukia! Have you ever had an original Soctman’s Riverbed Lamb Burger?”

“Can’t say I have…”

“Well, I know where I’m taking you on our next date, then~ What’s in the cup?”

“A… a cola?”

“Cola? You mind if I have a few sips to wash down that delicious burgers I’ve partaken in~?”

“G-go ahead, just don’t backwash it…”

Omareki gives a toothy grin, shoveling the last bit of the burger past her lips before lifting the cup of dark beverage and practically emptying its contents. She slammed it on the table, the clinking of ice hitting the plastic top.

“Aaah~ Refreshing. So! Mary Missileis. You know why we’re here? Why don’t you tell my lovely partner, Sukia, why we’re here?”

“…I-it’s over…”

“I DID NOT ASK YOU A GOD DAMN THING, CRASNA SEPTEMBER…. as you were saying, Mary?”

“…It’s in the… It’s in the drawer. Second one to the right.”

“Sukia?”

With a nod, Sukia quietly opened the drawer and rummaged around the disorganized items. Pencils, pens, scraps of paper and notes, until she found precisely what she desired.

Sukia unfurled the slip of paper, it being a receipt with a plethora of items listed onto it. All to an unknown buyer with a check for over 500,000 yen attached via paper clip.

“…I found it.”

“Did you now, Sukia?”

Omareki’s voice harshened, swiveling upon her heel to face Chitose once more with a grim expression. Frightened, Chitose hopped to his feet attempting to stammer out an explanation.

“L-listen, Junko, Homare. W-we had nothing but the best of intentions and motivations going into this. We never wanted to cause you, Kanon, or anyone else. We’re sorry, truly…”

Growing more agitated with Chitose’s flawed, unapologetic rambling to save his own hide- Omareki’s hand latched onto one of Mary’s pigtails, heaving the girl from her spot on the couch and subsequently wrapping her lips around her head, much to the other two’s palpable horror.

Within mere seconds, Mary’s head, shoulders, torso, legs, and eventually her feet vanished past Omareki’s lips. Distended her middle with the tight, visible outline of Mary stuffed into a fetal position. The blonde’s shoes clambered onto the floor as ziplock sealed her inside with an echoing swallow.

“Oh- I’m sorry, did I break your concentration? Don’t mind me, continue…”

“…”

“Cat got your tongue? No snide remarks or quips? You were saying something about the best intentions with your actions… Nothing? Then allow me to retort~… What is Kanon Quinn’s nickname?”

“…W-what?”

Omareki performed a hammer arm on the table, snapping it in half. Everything from the half eaten food, wrappers, and the cup spilt onto the ground at different speeds.

“What backwater country are you from?”

“W-what?”

“"What" ain’t a fucking country I’ve heard of... Do they speak Japanese or English in "What?"”

“W-w-what?”

“JAPANESE OR ENGLISH, YOU TESTICULAR TICKLING TWAT!! DO YOU SPEAK IT?!”

“Y-yes!”

“Then you can understand exactly what I’m saying… What. Is. Kanon. Quinn’s. Nickname?”

“W-what, I…?”

“SAY "WHAT" AGAIN, I DARE YOU, I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU, FUCKFACE. SAY "WHAT" ONE MORE TIME…"

“…u-uh!! The giant goth?”

“Wrong.”

“T-that t-tall cat woman…”

“Does she look like a witch?”

“W-what?”

Her impatience being tested, Omareki stomped on Chitose foot, the journalist wailing in pain from response, tear beading at the corner of his sapphire eyes.

“Does. She. Look. Like. A witch?”

“N-NooOO!”

“Then why’d you try to fuck her in the ass as if she were a witch from a budget hentai animation? The kind where everyone gets tested… even the artists?”

“N-n-nooo…”

“YES you did. Yes. You. Did. Chitose-kun… You tried to screw her… and we don’t appreciate that you did that. You made HER look like a scum bag. As if SHE were the scum of the Earth. What will your precious newsletter think when they find out their beloved, "honest" editor stole over half a million yen’s worth of food for a charity donation…. Only to line his and their own pockets because they’re a sycophantic piece of trash sucking up to the class president? How do her juices tastes, hm?”

“…”

“Thought so. We’ll see to it personally that you get expelled. Your family’s name will be shamed by your actions once it becomes public… though, the Karakanta Manufacturing and Distribution wouldn’t mind a little “internal investigation” would they? It’s not like their countless labor violations, unsafe working conditions, and illegally paying off politicians to turn a blind eye to their efforts will come to light… Oh, wait…”

“P-please…”

“The time for absolution has LONG since passed, Chitose…”

Omareki gripped the petrified journalist’s face with her hand, crushing his glasses as she forcefully pulled him from his lounge chair. Squeezing her abdominal muscles to ensure Mary wouldn’t kicking or squirming anytime soon.

“Sukia. We’re leaving for Dean Kaori’s office. Crasna. You’ve got two choices…. You either come with us willingly and face the repercussions for your actions… OR, you run away with your tail between your legs, and I drag you to hell myself.”

With their back against the wall and nowhere to metaphorically run, Crasna trembled between Sukia and Omareki, following along with the sin of their deed oozing down their back.