#excuse the post i’m off three shots of chocolate milk

[milimeters-morales]

hobie’s generally chill when it comes to miles freaking out about gender identity to help guide and calm miles down, but trust me once miles is sure of herself, hobie will be the equivalent of a pulsar as the angel on her shoulder. unrelated kind of but i don’t think any of the others would call him a queer elder just because he’s from the 70s, bc he’s young, but it’s kind of funny to think about one of the 40 something year old adults looking at him and going “can’t believe this dude is technically older than me”

[haikyuu-boys-headcanons]

𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

hehe, i’m back at it again with one of these long ass posts but this idea’s literally been in my head all day long so here you go !! obvious nsfw warning :)

tw: this whole post is just nsfw and embarrassing to read so read at your own risk >:)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » during a super intense and loud session, his voice cracked as he asked you “does that feel goOD- good baby?” to this day, he still prays that you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own moans

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » you were riding him and he went to slap your ass, but something went wrong either because you were riding too quickly or he was shaking too much, boy ended up slapping himself in the balls. you’ve never heard that boy scream that loud in your life

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » literally pulled out in the middle of sex to get up and rush to the corner of his room to flip around his childhood teddy bears. your just laying there with your tiddies and coochie out waiting for asahi to shield the eyes of mr. wiggles

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » you two were having pretty intense shower sex until tanaka did the number one thing your not supposed to do during shower sex; this muthafucker slipped while holding you. long story short, y’all were okay but just ended up having nasty shower floor sex??

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » this tiny ass 5′2 man was unconsciously humping your leg while you were both asleep?? his presumably pleasurable wet dream had turned into a sudden nightmare when you literally had to KICK him off you to stop the humping. bad nishinoya, bad!

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » came WAYYY too early inside you, but he was too embarrassed to say anything so he just... kept going. sadly, no one had warned kageyama of the intense effects of overstimulation. he was shaking and whimpering so badly behind you to the point where you had to ask him to pull out and bring him a glass of water to calm down

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » the first time you squirted on him, he just blatantly asked you these exact few words that left you feeling mortified: “did you just piss on me?” nuh uh hinata, this water fountain ain’t yours to drown in anymore >:( 

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » kei was hitting it from the back pretty hard this time, so hard that you were suddenly... on an angle? suddenly, now you two were much closer to the floor than before. the bed ended up collapsing, yes literally collapsing due to kei’s powerful thrusts. worst part is, nobody got to finish since kei dragged you to ikea to grumpily buy a new bedframe. but hey, he bought you ikea meatballs; that shit hits so different

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » one super duper intense night, he passed out the SECOND he came. no matter how much you flicked the temple of his forehead, yamaguchi was dead asleep. you had to literally slap him awake to get him to clean up, you ain’t risking a ranky stanky UTI puthy in the morning

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » kept calling himself a sex machine during the act. i don’t know if it was due to the 6 tequila shots he had beforehand or just his inner ego revealing, whatever it was it was about to make your pussy close

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » this one time, he kept going in at a weird angle which caused you to repeatedly queef for 7 minutes straight. every time you told him to pull out and go in properly, he laughed and kept going in at that one weird angle!! was your embarrassment a turn on for him?? maybe!! but were you mortified? absolutely!!

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙽 » i’m sorry to have to be the one to announce this, but this man had the worst case of full blown bush you’ve ever seen. like, he didn’t even try to manscape or anything at all. you ended up begging him to trim just a tiny bit because you weren’t gonna risk choking on a pube whilst your going down on him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸 » rubbed your left labia thinking it was your clit. and he kept doing that. the whole. fucking. time. even when you subtly moved his fingers towards your clit, he just kept going back to the left lip.

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » had the most dry and dull dirty talk you’ve ever heard. like, it’s not even dirty talk at this point; it’s just clean talk. there’s no passion when he talks! he uses the same tone he would use for anyone else at any other moment. to paint the picture, imagine riding kunimi and he’s just there with a furrowed expression like “yup, that feels really good”

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » tried to pull one of those unexpected anal scenes that he saw from a porno, without telling you beforehand. life lesson here; if you party at shit's house, don't be surprised if shit's at the party

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » you two were looking to get a little more kinky in terms of BDSM, so kuroo watched like 30 tutorials on youtube on how to safely tie you up so you won’t fall or anything. this bitch ended up tying rope knots that were practically impossible to undo, which resulted in you hanging from the ceiling for approximately 2 hours pussy-ass naked while kuroo tried to cut you down with a kitchen knife

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » wanted to spice things up with some dirty talk, like the real nasty talk they use in pornos but not the normal pornos; the shitty company ones with horrific acting. he really ended up announcing that he was going to “fuck your fucking fanny off, you twat”

𝙻𝙴𝚅 » got super excited while he was opening the lube since he hadn’t gotten to fuck you in a WHILE, which resulted the lube leaked everywhere and a giant 6′5 man slipping and hitting his head on the bed frame. worst part is; he had to go to the ER with a hard on that refused to go away

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » speaking of boners that wouldn’t go away, let’s not forget that one time bokuto took two viagras when you texted him to come over for a special occasion. he horribly misinterpreted the ‘special occasion’ text, because he showed up to your house with a huge buldge in his pants as your parents stand before him holding anniversary cards, completely horrified

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » wanted to make valentines day sex as romantic as he could, so he did the classic lighting candles and giving roses. everything was beautiful, until he accidently knocked one of the bigger candles over during missionary. this not only caused a huge ass fire in your bedroom, but he came right as the fire began to spread. boy was debating on whether his orgasm was to die for or not

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » had a nose bleed when he was going down on you and you both were immediately horrified, you thinking it was your period and him thinking he just ate coochie blood. yet as you went to go clean up, you realized his face had much more blood on it than your coochie did. to this day, he still blames it on your period 

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » threw you onto the bed and your head went through the wall. he didn’t even bother to ask you if you were okay, he just sighed and went “well, now i have to make a call to the construction guy. excuse me” and he left you and your concussed ass head sit there once again, pussy ass naked

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » during a blowjob, he held your head down right as he was coming causing the cum to shoot up your throat and somehow pour out of your nose. by the time he pulled out, he could barely breath from laughing at you. sure, the classic ‘milk shooting out of nose’ thing was funny at first until you got a sinus infection and had to breath out of your mouth for the next three days

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » always insists having sex in the most inconvenient places?? like he would pull you to side while grocery shopping and start grinding up against you as you pick which brand of cheese would be better??

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » he kept getting frustrated that his bangs were clouding his field of vision, so he irritably grabbed a hair tie and frantically tied up the sides of his bangs while he was fucking you. you immediately burst out laughing since he looked exactly like boo from monsters inc. 

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » got so drunk that he ended up fucking the couch. like he was just there on top of you, and his dick was just sliding between the folds of the leather couch. you decided to let him finish like that

𝚂𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚂𝙰 » had a really bad reaction to one of the products he used while shaving and ended up getting super irritated down there so he kept having to pull out in-between thrusts to itch his crotch. to make things worse, you joking suggested that he looked like he had syphilis and he got so disgusted at the idea of that thought that he literally had to pull out and take a breather 

���𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » drizzled ‘warm’ chocolate down your chest and was about to seductively lick it off until you screamed in pain and horror as the chocolate was literally burning your skin off. osamu panicked, obviously not knowing what to do if chocolate was burning his partners skin off so he just... frantically licked it off. you still had to go to the ER afterwards to get treated for mild burns

𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙼𝚄 » didn’t know what a hymen was until the first time he tried to have sex with you. no matter how much he tried to shove his schlong in, it really just wasn’t working + “yer puss is broken”

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » pinched your nipples so fucking hard to the point where you started crying. he thoughts these were tears of pleasure until you literally had to kick him off you. but hey, he gave you ice for your sore nipples and mcdonalds! what more could a girl possibly want :)

uh the end lol

also, this idea was inspired by the first haikyuu headcanon i ever read, “awkward sex moments” by @bbytetsu <3

[hlizr50]

Delectable

Gwyn meets a tall, snarky, unfairly gorgeous man working in a bakery. The owner seems possessive of him, but his sights are set firmly on the sassy redhead who won't even tell him her name.

This is part one of three of an AU Gwynriel story, as part of the ACOTAR Writing Circle organized by @azrielshadowssing. The next two parts will each be written by another author. Part two will be posted by August 27 and part three will be posted by September 10.

Check out the ACOTAR Writing Circle master list HERE and enjoy all the fun stories as we collaborate!

The bell chiming against the door echoed Gwyn’s enthusiasm. In the midst of the chaos that was school and work she had yet to find an opportunity to stop by the new little bakery around the corner from her apartment. Judging by the wafting scent of caramelized sugar and vanilla that met her upon walking in, though, this place could become a delicious habit.

Though perhaps she’d have to start doing some cardio outside of her self-defense classes.

The decor was a whimsical picture of springtime, with mismatched wrought iron cafe tables and chairs sporadically positioned upon what appeared to be cobblestone, or at least a very convincing imitation. The walls were painted in vertical stripes - a cream and bubblegum pink pattern that matched the awning over the door and flower bed outside.

The counter was gleaming, beckoning her closer to the brightly-lit case full of goodies she just couldn’t wait to try. Cupcakes and cookies and little miniature cheesecakes…

“Can I help you?”

Drawn from her thoughts, Gwyn looked up. And up. Behind the counter was, quite possibly, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He had to be nearly six and a half feet tall, with thick, tousled dark hair, striking hazel eyes, and cheekbones and a jaw that could cut glass. Her teal gaze continued to take him in, forgetting that he’d even spoken words to her, because Gods…

He wore all black. Head to toe. V-neck t-shirt that hugged his obviously well-muscled chest and biceps, the honeyed skin of which were decorated with scrolling tattoos that faded toward his forearms and peeked out over the collar of his shirt. Black jeans that, again, fit him just right.

And then, as if she’d finally realized her incessant… distraction, her eyes jumped back to his face. She took a breath, felt like it had been a long while since she’d last done so.

He’d asked her a question, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry?” she squeaked. The man’s unfairly perfect lips tilted up on one side.

“I said, can I help you?” he offered again, turning away from her. Oh, sweet Mother, his back. It rippled as he reached to a hook before turning back to the counter, his arms threading through the ruffled straps of a cotton candy pink apron. “I feel the need to remind you that only the items in the case are for sale.” He winked, and Gwyn’s face was immediately set aflame. She had been ogling the poor man shamelessly, but she was not about to admit it.

“Excuse me?”

“You were looking at me as if you wanted to devour me,” he laughed, that half-grin turning into a wide, gleaming smile that was so smug she wanted to slap it off his perfect face. Even if she could barely muster the nerve to look him in the face again. It had been thoughtless of her. She knew how much she hated that kind of attention, especially from strangers.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, keeping her gaze fixed on a row of delectable lemon cupcakes. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” The man’s head tilted in her periphery, considering her. She could tell that his smirk had dropped, and she cursed herself for making this awkward. “Anyway, could I have one of the devil’s food cupcakes, one of the mini turtle cheesecakes, and a glass of milk?” With one final, grounding breath she lifted her eyes back to the handsome man’s face. His eyebrow rose.

“Milk?” he asked. Gwyn’s nose crinkled into a playful scowl.

“How else am I supposed to enjoy chocolate and other decadent snacks, if not with milk?” she shot back.

“What are you, twelve?” he teased. Her frown deepened.

“No, I just know the correct dessert-beverage combination, thank you very much.”

He snorted. “Whatever you say.”

Gwyn paid her total, finding a little table with a marble top after the man told her he’d bring her items out to her after he got her ‘very adult beverage’. She sighed as she plopped down into the chair. Of course someone who looked so perfect - a work of art chiseled from marble - would be so rude.

In a matter of moments a little china plate with pink and purple painted flowers was set before her, laden with mouth-watering chocolate and cheesecake, followed by a glass filled to the brim. When she opened her mouth to thank the tall man, still wearing that silly apron, she was stunned into silence when he sat down across from her.

“I don’t believe I caught your name,” he said, leaning back into the chair. Why was his body just… exquisite in every position? It almost made the redhead forget the irritation that had begun simmering in her blood at his presumption that he deserved to know her.

“That’s because I didn’t give it.” She shrugged and lifted her fork, pointing the tines at him. “That apron is ridiculous.” 

He lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, weaving his fingers together atop the material that was so at odds with his clothing and his demeanor. “Can’t help it. Uniform and all that,” he answered. “I’m Azriel.”

She sighed, “That’s nice,” and dug into the dessert in front of her. When the caramel and chocolate and creamy filling hit her tongue she let out an indecent groan. Closing her eyes, Gwyn savored the delicious treat. Oh this place was definitely going to push her into a more active lifestyle, but she pondered for a moment if it would be so bad to just stay sedentary and buy a new, bigger wardrobe. If it meant she got to eat cheesecake like that every day, it was worth considering.

“You’ll tell me I look ridiculous, undress me with those pretty blue eyes, and make salacious noises right in front of me…” Her eyes snapped open, finding this man - Azriel - now leaning forward, like a cat ready to pounce. “But you won’t tell me your name?”

“Hey!” she balked, pointing her fork back at him again. “I can’t help that the cheesecake is phenomenal.” Her face was already bright red again. She could feel it, and she hated it. How many times was she going to blush in front of this Greek god of a man? Her lashes lowered, and she dropped her fork on her plate. “And I did apologize for ogling you earlier.” When she dared to look up again, cheeks blazing, his eyes had grown nearly molten, and his arrogant smirk had softened. Slowly, deliberately, he reached across the table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and her breath hitched at the sensation of his roughened fingertips scratching deliciously over her skin.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “I–”

“Azriel!” A shrill voice rang out in time with the bell on the door. He drew his hand away like he’d been burned and stood so quickly that his chair nearly toppled over. Gwyn had to crane her neck to see the woman who had entered, with Azriel’s giant from looming before her, but couldn’t get a good look. Lucky - or unlucky - for her, the owner of that new voice walked right up to them - well, right up to Azriel - with a determined set to her jaw in spite of her flustered flush.

She was beautiful.

She was shorter than Gwyn. Much shorter. Her honey-brown hair fell in loose curls over her cardigan-covered shoulders. The kind of curls you saw on celebrities in magazines. Her yellow sundress called attention to the way her waist cinched, and above those burning cheeks were wide doe eyes the color of rich milk chocolate.

But those eyes darkened as they turned in her direction, giving Gwyn’s jeans and t-shirt clad body a once-over before turning back to Azriel with a frown.

“Are you on a date while you’re at work?”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Gwyn waved her hands in front of her. “Definitely not a date. I just came here for snacks.” The little brunette’s eyes darted in her direction again, just for an instant.

“Well now that you’ve delivered her order,” she gritted, “maybe it’s time to get back to work.”

Gwyn’s attention shifted back and forth, from Azriel’s stony frown, to his clenched hands, to this woman’s annoyed expression that pinched her pretty face.

“Elain. Nobody is here,” he answered quietly, and now his gaze drifted toward her. Gwyn decided to return to her treats and tried to ignore whatever it was that was happening between the two beautiful people not four feet away. There was clear history, and the way this Elain had seemed to measure her up with her stare had Gwyn feeling quite unwelcome in the bright little space.

“I’m sure we can find something to do.” The redhead nearly choked on the dark chocolate frosting she’d just licked from the cupcake, the obvious double meaning clear in the other woman’s sugared tone. Gwyn lifted her eyes just in time to see Elain’s fingers brush the cords of his forearms, and quickly looked back to her plate. Azriel was outrageously handsome, and she’d even thought that perhaps he’d been flirting with her. But now that this petite brunette had entered and apparently staked her claim, Gwyn was singularly focused on finishing her desserts and getting the hell out of there. So laser focused that she barely registered as the indecently tall man stalked past them, grumbling something unintelligible.

“You know,” that sickly sweet voice pierced through her defenses, and she looked up into those big brown eyes. They were darker than before. With challenge and disdain. “It’s rude to flirt with someone when they’re working. It’s very distracting.”

If Gwyn had felt awkward before, it was overcome with the searing churn of irritation. Who the hell was she to presume? To judge? So she flashed a big, bright smile and shrugged. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Like I said, I just wanted dessert.” And then she threw down the gauntlet. She would not bow to a woman who would choose to judge her character without knowing anything about her. “But who am I to say no when a kind man wants to chat? And, I mean, I’m not blind.”

Pure delight sang through her veins as Elain’s scowl deepened, her face turning a darker shade of pink than Azriel’s ridiculous apron. With a huff she stalked back behind the counter and into the back room, and Gwyn gave a satisfied hum to the empty shop and returned to devouring her cheesecake and cupcake.

She had just leaned back, the last crumb upon her tongue, when a little paper bag was plunked on the table in front of her. Her eyes followed the long, deft fingers that held the folded top, up the tanned, muscled arm, and fell on a chiseled face and hazel eyes behind unruly locks of pure midnight.

“Azriel, you better not be giving away more desserts!” Elain’s voice floated from the counter, and it was all Gwyn could do not to roll her eyes. But Azriel didn’t stop himself from doing just that.

“No, ma’am. She ordered it to go, for when she was done.” His grin was apologetic, even as he gave her a wink, and then he mouthed ‘I’m sorry’. She couldn’t help but give him an answering smile, and she could’ve sworn his grew wider before he gathered her dishes, nodded, and returned to the dessert display.

Curiosity was a living, writhing creature within her, and she tried to keep her fingers from tearing open the cute little pink and white striped bag like a ravenous little vulture. But when she unfolded the top once, then twice, she was surprised to find something scrawled across the printed paper.

Warmth bloomed beneath her freckles as she read Azriel’s name, and then a string of numbers, followed with a text me please? There was something else burning at her profile, and when she looked over she found him regarding her, the intensity of his gaze a searing caress. Her chin dipped, a disbelieving grin tilting her lips, and she hurriedly re-folded the bag, grabbed her purse, and rushed out the door.

Her frantic pace didn’t let up until she was inside her apartment, face flushed and breathing hard. She was utterly thrilled that the snarky, beautiful man had given her his phone number. But what was going on between him and Elain? She clearly had eyes for him - not that Gwyn could blame her - but she wasn’t about to be someone’s side chick. The redhead wandered into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the counter, chewing on her lower lip as she eyed it.

Usually Gwyn was incredibly sure of herself. She made decisions with the help of research and introspection. If something didn’t serve her or contribute to her happiness, she removed it from her life. She had been through too much, had worked too hard to dig herself out of the darkness that had consumed her after the death of her sister.

That had been nearly five years ago, but there was one thing she still hadn’t done. She hadn’t returned to dating. Hadn’t had the strength to open herself up to a man since that night. She wasn’t sure what intimacy looked like in her future, but she also knew that she had become more and more open to the idea. Her therapist had suggested she acquaint herself with her body, with pleasure, and that little battery-operated miracle in her nightstand had done wonders.

And Azriel was… Gods, he was gorgeous. Even now her entire body burned, just imagining how those callous-roughened fingertips would feel as they dragged against the more hidden, intimate parts of her.

Decision made.

Snatching the sack from the counter she opened it, spying what looked like the most decadent brownie she’d ever seen. Bonus points to the most beautiful man on earth for giving her a free brownie. Then she found the numbers on the outside of the bag and quickly typed them into her phone along with his name, sending a text before she had the chance to think better of it.

3:37pm: Hey :) Thanks for the brownie. It looks soooooo yummy.

Gwyn was pleasantly surprised when her phone dinged almost immediately.

Azriel (3:38pm): I’m assuming this is the pretty redhead who made my boss an absolute nightmare to work with for the last hour of my shift? ;)

3:38pm: Wait, she’s your BOSS?!

Well… that was unexpected.

It took a few minutes for him to respond this time.

Azriel (3:43pm): Well… it’s complicated. But basically she’s my sister-in-law and I offered to help out in the bakery until her two besties moved back into town. It’s a business venture between the three of them.

3:45pm: I see…

Gwyn bit her lip. He didn’t seem to address Elain’s blatant possessiveness of him. Was that why it was ‘complicated’?

Azriel (3:46pm): Oh, Gods. The dreaded ellipsis…

A laugh escaped her mouth. He was funny. And smart.

3:48pm: It’s just… she seemed pretty possessive over you. Made at least one suggestive comment. And definitely eyed me with pretty evident disdain when she demanded that I not flirt with you while you’re working.

Azriel (3:50pm): Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear that, or I would have set her straight.

3:51pm: So you’re not with her?

Azriel (3:52pm): NO. Not at all. I don’t flirt with other women if I’m dating someone.

Gwyn took a breath, trying to decide what to type. Her thumbs swiped furiously across her screen, only to delete and try again. It felt like she was doing that over and over and over again–

Azriel (3:58pm): Listen, there was a time when I thought Elain and I could have something, but that was a long time ago. She hasn’t let go of it, but I promise I have no interest in her. I’m working at the bakery because she’s family, and my moral standards are high enough that I won’t hook up with a woman just because she throws herself at me.

He definitely knew the right words to say. Words and actions were two very different things, but she couldn’t judge him on his actions if she never gave him a chance to do anything.

4:00pm: Well that’s good to hear.

Azriel (4:02pm): But I AM interested in you.

Gwyn’s heart thumped in her chest, and warmth spread through her body.

4:03pm: Yeah?

Azriel (4:04pm): And I know you’re interested in me ;)

And suddenly that warmth had simmered into cool annoyance.

4:06pm: Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?

Azriel (4:07pm): Oh, please. We both know you couldn’t take your eyes off me this afternoon.

Gods, she wished he were wrong.

Azriel (4:08pm): But, as I was going to say earlier before we were so rudely interrupted, I quite liked it.

The extent to which this man - that she barely knew - made her blush was legitimately infuriating.

Azriel (4:08pm): And I’m not sure if you noticed…

Azriel (4:09pm): But I had a hard time keeping my eyes off you, as well.

Keep yourself together, Gwyn.

4:10pm: Oh… is that so?

Wow. Quite the conversationalist, she was.

Azriel (4:12pm): Lol yes. And I’m hoping maybe you’ll let me buy you dinner sometime this week. Something nicer than a brownie tossed in a bag with a phone number scribbled on the outside.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she couldn’t stop the grin that spread her lips. He was funny. He was sweet. He was stunning. And he was asking her out.

4:14pm: I’d like that.

She squealed to herself when the next message came through.

Azriel (4:15pm): It’s a date. I’ll look at my calendar when I get home and we’ll set it up.

4:16pm: Sounds great.

And then, because she figured he’d earned it by now, she typed quickly: 4:17pm: By the way, my name is Gwyn.

Tag List: @tealnymph-writes @mercarimari @headcanonheadcase @vikingmagic33 @ofduskanddreams @mystical-blaise @daevastanner @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @camreadsum @imwritingthesewords @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430 @writing-spaces @onemorenightdreamer @feyretale @almosttenaciousmoon @the-introverted-bibliophile @live-the-fangirl-life @silverflameataraxia @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @kimstclair @romancebooksandshit @booknerd87 @frecklesandfiction

[atlafan]

a/n: hola!! So, I’m posting the first 7K here since this is just one long one-shot. I hope y’all will join patreon to continue reading the rest of the story. I worked really hard on this one, and for whatever reason I feel like this is some of my best writing. Enjoy!

Words in total: 38K

Warnings: 

TW - mentions of abortion/planned parenthood

Some angst, mostly just two people being idiots

Smut - slight daddy!kink, slight soft dom

Being the new kid in school is never easy. When you’re in elementary school, it’s exciting. Everyone wants to know you and be your friend, but in middle school…the kids judged you on day one. Orla Murphy and her family moved to Boston halfway through fifth grade. It would have been one thing if it was summer, she’d be able to slide in undetected. She could just pretend she was from a different elementary school and be done with it. But no, her father got offered a new job in the big city that he couldn’t turn down. Orla’s an only child, so it wasn’t even like she could mope and complain with a sibling. It was just her and her parents, and even though her mother was a bit more sympathetic to her daughter’s misery, it didn’t make Orla feel better. 

So, here she is, on her first day of school on February 1st standing in front of a classroom of kids she doesn’t know, being forced to introduce herself and where she’s from.

“Go on, Orla, tell us a little about yourself.” The teacher says with a warm smile.

“Um…I’m Orla Murphy, I just moved here from Vermont. I’m from a small town where the whole school is the size of this classroom.” She looks down at her snow boots before looking up at the teacher.

“Wow, this’ll be quite the adjustment. What do you like to do for fun?”

“I draw and listen to music. I play Barbies, um…that’s all I can think of right now.”

“That’s fine, thank you, Orla. You can have a seat now.”

Orla goes back to where she was sitting before she got called up to introduce herself to her home room. She slumps down into her seat and listens to the morning announcements. The bell rings and it’s off to math. The class goes across the hall to the other teacher.

By the time lunch rolls around, Orla isn’t feeling much better about her new school. She had brought lunch, and wasn’t sure who to sit with. Her class has two assigned tables, but she doesn’t want to take anyone’s usual seat. She contemplates going to eat in the bathroom until someone taps her on the shoulder.

“You can sit with me and my friends, if you want.”

She turns around to look at a boy with a mess of chocolate brown curls on his head, a pair of round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and braces gracing his smile.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Orla blushes and follows him to one of the tables.

“I’m one of the few people that brings lunch too, everyone should be over soon. I’m Harry by the way.”

“Hi.” She says shyly.

“What kind of a name is Orla?” He asks, biting into his apple after they sit down.

“It’s Irish…”

“Cool! Does it mean anything.”

“Golden princess, or something like that, I don’t really know. My dad’s Irish and I guess his grandmother’s name was Orla so they named me after her.”

“That’s really cool. My mom just liked the name Harry, and now that’s my name.” He shrugs. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No.” She says, and pulls her sandwich out of her lunchbox. “Do you?”

“Mhm, I’ve got three older brothers, I’m the youngest. My oldest brother is a senior in high school, isn’t that cool? He’s going to college next year.”

“Does he drive you places?”

“Yeah! And sometimes he lets me sit in the front seat without my mom knowing. He’s the best.”

Orla felt like she was finally starting to open up, but Harry’s friends joined their table and took over the conversation. They acknowledged her, but didn’t make any effort to pull her back into the conversation. Harry noticed this and didn’t like it. She excuses herself a few minutes before the bell rings to go use the bathroom. There’s a study block after lunch where all of the kids in class could get a jump on homework, or read.

“Okay, everyone!” Mrs. Sampson, the teacher, cheers. “We’ve got a very special treat today. It’s Harry’s birthday, and his mom sent him in with cupcakes for the whole class!” Harry stands up and smiles as Mrs. Sampson places a birthday crown on his head. “Harry, would you like to pick someone to help you pass out the cupcakes?”

“Sure.” He nods and looks around the room. Many kids raise their hands with excitement. He spots Orla looking out the window with her chin resting on her fist. “I pick…Orla!”

Her attention snaps over to Harry while everyone looks at her. She stands up and walks over to him and takes a tray of cupcakes to help pass them out. Once everyone has their cupcakes, and a carton of milk supplied by Mrs. Sampson, the kids are allowed to sit with their friends and chat. Soon, some of the girls start talking with Orla, and it helps her feel more welcome.

By the end of the day, all of the kids are dismissed to go to their lockers and grab their backpacks before getting into their bus lines or go wait for their parents to pick them up. Orla sees Harry at his locker and she works up the courage to go talk to him.

“Hey, um, why’d you pick me earlier?” She asks him.

“Huh? Oh…I don’t know, I didn’t like that my friends were ignoring you at lunch. So, I just thought if you passed out the cupcakes with me more people would talk to you.” He rubs the back of his neck and grabs a card out of his locker. “Listen, I’m having a birthday party this weekend at Roller World, you should come.” He hands her the invitation. “The whole class is coming, it’ll be fun.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll ask my parents…thanks, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles. “Are you taking the bus home?”

“Yeah.”

“What number?”

“Eleven.”

“That’s my bus! You weren’t on it this morning.” He closes his locker and they start making their way to the auditorium where the bus lines are.

“Yeah, my mom wanted to drop me off this morning to walk me into the office so I could get my schedule and stuff.”

“Cool, where do you live?”

“I’m the second to last house on the left of Langston Ave…number twenty-four.”

“You can’t be serious. That’s literally right across the street from where I live! I was wondering who moved into that house. I’m number twenty-seven.”

“Whoa, that’s freaky.” Orla blinks.

“Well, at least you know you have a friend close by. We can wait at the bus stop in the mornings together if you want.” The two go into their line and wait as the teacher on duty keeps them at bay. “Do you wanna sit together?”

“That’s okay, I’m sure you have other friends you usually sit with.”

“Yeah, but none of them are new and exciting.” He scoffs. “Unless…uh, if you don’t wanna sit with me that’s totally fine.”

“No, I do! I just didn’t want you to think you had to offer.” She blushes.

“You’re funny, you know that?” He gives her shoulder a nudge with his hand, and the teacher lets the kids know they can go to their bus.

Orla follows Harry outside and onto bus eleven. He grabs a seat in the middle of the bus and sits down. Orla sits down next to him and smiles. The two talk the whole way home. Harry listens as Orla explains what her dad does for work and why they had to move.

“You’re gonna like living closer to the city, I think. It’s really fun to ride the trains and stuff.” Harry tells her.

They get to their stop and make their way off the bus. Orla’s mom is waiting outside on their front steps for her with a smile on her face.

“Um, thanks for being so nice to me today.” Orla says to Harry.

“You don’t have to thank me. Don’t forget to ask your parents about coming to my party on Saturday, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“See you tomorrow.” Harry smiles before crossing the street to his house.

“There she is! How was your day? Was that a new friend?” Orla’s mom gives her a big hug and kiss.

“Mum, stop!” She pushes her mother off of her and they both go into the house. “I got invited to a party on Saturday, can I go?” She hands her mother the invitation Harry had given her.

“Sure! I think I can make this work. I knew you’d make friends right away.”

“I didn’t make friends, I just made one. His name is Harry.” Orla sits down at the kitchen island while her mom makes up an after school snack for her.

“One is still good, Honey. I know this move hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m so proud of you for making it through your first day.” Mrs. Murphy sets down some peanut butter covered celery sticks in front of Orla. “Were your teachers nice?”

“Mhm, Mrs. Simmons is my homeroom teacher, and she’s my English and Social Studies teacher. Mrs. Rayburn is my math and science teacher from across the hall. We had a study block after lunch and we had cupcakes cause it’s Harry’s birthday. Tomorrow we have art after lunch.”

“That’ll be fun.” Mrs. Murphy smiles. “Wait until Dad gets home, he’ll be so happy to hear how your first day went.”

//

On Saturday, Orla takes a deep breath as she walks into the roller rink. Her mother is right behind her making sure she gets in safely. Orla grips the gift bag with Harry’s present in it as they walk further in.

“There they are.” Orla says to her mom, and they make their way over to the other kids and their parents.

“Orla, you made it!” Harry beams and gives her a high five. “Put that down, we can go get your skates.” He tugs her along to the counter while Mrs. Murphy says hello to Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

“Hi, Monique Murphy, I’m Orla’s mum.” She shakes both of their hands.

“You just moved in across the street, right?” Mrs. Styles says. “We’ve been meaning to come over to introduce ourselves.”

“No worries, I’m sure you’ve been busy putting all of this together. Your son has been so sweet to Orla these past few days.”

“We’ve always taught him to treat others with kindness. Um, is your husband at home, or is it just you two in that darling cape house?” Mrs. Styles asks.

“Oh, Shawn’s doing some unpacking for me. I work from home, and I needed him to put my desk back together and all that.”

While Mrs. Murphy gets acquainted with the other adults, Harry helps Orla lace up her skates. Many of the other kids say hello to her, but mostly keep to their established friend groups.

“Have you ever roller skated before?” Harry asks her as he helps her stand up.

“No.” She wobbles and latches onto his shoulders. “Maybe I should just sit this out. I don’t wanna slow anyone down.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes Orla’s hand to help her get to the rink entrance.

“Come on, Harry! We’re gonna race!” One of the boys says.

“In a minute, I’m hanging with Orla right now.” He looks back at Orla as they both get onto the rink. “Okay, so you’re gonna glide right and left.” He spins around to take her hands, and starts slowly skating backwards. Orla looks at him with wide eyes. “I play ice hockey.”

“Oh, cool.” She swallows, and grips his hands as she follows his movements.

“There you go, you’re doing it!” Harry cheers her on. The DJ announces that cosmic skating is about to begin, and the rink goes pitch black. Neon lights turn on around the rink and everyone starts cheering. “Think you’ve got the hang of it so I can skate beside you?”

“Yeah, but you can go with your other friends. I don’t want you to think you have to babysit me.”

“I don’t think that.” He moves beside her and takes one of her hands. “It’ll just be easier to guide you like this.”

Orla ends up having a fun time with Harry, and she even warms up to some of the other kids. She learns that Logan, Owen, and Matt are Harry’s three best friends. Logan takes Orla’s other hand at one point and helps her skate a little faster with them. She laughs with all of them and gets the hang of skating on her own. Eventually it’s time for pizza, cake, and presents. Orla sits next to Sammy and Frida, two of the girls she was getting friendlier with in class. Harry starts opening his gifts. He gets some action figures, a new Bruins jersey, skate laces, and then he gets to Orla’s gift. From the few days Orla had spent getting to know Harry, she had learned that science was one of his favorite subjects. So, she got him a make your own volcano kit.

“Wow!” He exclaims as he pulls the kit out of the bag. “This is so cool! Thanks, Orla!” He smiles at her.

“You’re welcome.” She says back quietly.

After they eat, the kids go back for a few more rounds on the rink. Others go off to play in the arcade area. Kids start getting picked up by their parents, and Mrs. Murphy lets Orla know it’s time to go.

“I’m really glad you came.” Harry tells her.

“Me too, thanks for inviting me. Um, see you on Monday?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulls something out of his pocket. “I won these at the arcade, they’re just rubber bracelets, but I don’t need two of them. Do you want one?” He holds up the red rubber bracelet that has Roller World imprinted into it.

“Sure, thanks.” Orla takes the bracelet and slides it onto her wrist. She watches as Harry puts his own on.

From that day on, Harry and Orla were the best of friends. They did everything together. She’d go to his hockey games, and he’d invite her over to do homework after school. In the summer time they’d go swimming in his pool, and Mr. Murphy would grill them up some burgers. By the time eighth grade hit, the teasing started. Their friends told them to just kiss already, and they’d ask why they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. Orla didn’t like Harry like that, as cute as he was. He was just her friend, and she liked it that way. Did they go to the eighth grade dance together and have a conjoined end of middle school party? Sure, but that’s what friends do.

High school is an entirely different ball game. They lived closer to the high school, so they didn’t need to take the bus. Harry and Orla would walk together every morning. They were put into different homerooms because of their last names, but they had many classes together. They were able to choose their seats so they made sure to sit together whenever they could. They had the same lunch period with their friends, so it was easy enough to get through the day. Orla tried out for the girls’ volleyball team, and she got on, so Harry would make sure to go to her matches. He made it onto the varsity hockey team, so Orla continued to go to his games as well. Again, people continued to ask if they were dating. This was mostly because Harry got more handsome by the day and girls were starting to express their crushes. Orla was pretty in her own right, but she was too shy to even look to see if anyone was looking back at her.

They went to school dances as a group, but they always danced to slow songs together. The summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school, the duo got jobs working at a retirement community restaurant that only hired high school students as servers. This meant new friends, and new people to hang out with after work. Most nights someone would host a fire in their backyard, and most nights this led to making stupid decisions. Orla and Harry didn’t drink, but they did smoke weed every once in a while.

“I don’t wanna smell like it, my parents would freak out.” Orla says to her friend who’s about to pass the joint to her.

“We could shotgun it.” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I can inhale it and pass it to your mouth.” He smirks.

“Oh…” She furrows her brows. Harry isn’t paying attention to the interaction between Orla and Trevor, the sixteen-year-old boy who Orla secretly had a crush on. “Wouldn’t that be like kissing?” She giggles.

“Maybe, would that be a bad thing? If I kissed you?”

“You wanna kiss me?” Orla asks, but before she can get an answer, Harry’s hand finds her shoulder.

“My dad’s here, we need to go.” He says into her ear.

“Oh, um, okay.” Orla stands up.

“If you wanna stay longer, I can drive you home.” Trevor says.

“You’ve been smoking.” Harry says, stepping in front of Orla. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He takes Orla’s hand and tugs her along.

“Harry, where’s your dad’s car?” Orla asks when they get to the front of the house.

“He’s not here, I just said that so Trevor would leave you alone. We’re only a block away from home, let’s just walk.”

“Trevor wasn’t bothering me though.” Orla says to him as they start walking.

“Well, he was bothering me.”

“Why?”

“He was pressuring you into taking a hit off his joint.”

“No he wasn’t. And since when do you care if I want to smoke? It’s not like it would have been my first time.”

“I have some edibles in my room, we can have those.”

“Harry, you ruined something that could have been really special.”

“Yeah? Like what?” He huffs, walking slightly ahead of her.

“Trevor was going to kiss me, and I really like him.” Harry stops short and turns around to look at her. “And you know that would have been my first kiss, so…it would have been special.”

“You wanted your first kiss to be with a guy you would taste like weed in front of a ton of our friends?”

“No one was watching us.” She looks down.

“Why do you like him?”

“Because he’s cute and funny, and he always helps me buss my tables at work.”

“Is that all it takes?” Harry scoffs.

“What’s your problem? You flirt with girls all the time, you know.”

“Girls flirt with me, and news flash, I haven’t kissed anyone either. It’s not like I’m being hypocritical.” He rolls his eyes and starts walking again. Orla crosses her arms over her chest and follows behind him in silence. They don’t say another word to each other until they get to their street, and Orla starts to walk away from him towards her house. “Where are you going? I thought you were sleeping over.”

“Think I’d rather just be alone right now. I’m too annoyed to spend another second around you tonight.”

“You’re being a baby.” He follows her across the street and they both stop at the front of her walkway.

“And you’re being a jerk.”

“Why would you want your first kiss to be with someone who’s just trying to get into your pants?”

“He’s not like that.”

“Yes he is! I heard him, okay? I heard Trevor talking to Eric at the dish drop off. He…he has some bet with him that by before summer is over you two will have gone all the way.”

“You’re lying.” Orla’s eyes start to water.

“I’m not, why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know!” Orla sprints off into her house. Harry sighs heavily and goes to his own house.

Mr. and Mrs. Murphy have already gone to bed, so Orla’s quiet as she makes her way up to her room. She washes her face and brushes her teeth before getting into her pajamas. She sits on her bed with her laptop so she can watch TV to calm down. About twenty minutes later, Harry’s climbing in through her window. She looks over at him with a pout and puffy eyes. He doesn’t say anything to her, all he does is cup her jaw and press his lips to her. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. Before she can even do anything Harry steps back from her.

“Now we’ve both had our first kiss.” He mutters, cheeks a deep shade of red. “I care about you, and you care about me…so it’s special.”

“Oh…well…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He goes back over to her window, ready to climb back down. “Date whoever you want…just trust me about Trevor, okay?” With that he leaves.

She touches her fingertips to her lips and flops back into her pillows. Her first kiss was just with her very best friend, what could be better?

//

“Logan asked you to junior prom!?” Harry shrieks when Orla tells him after school.

“Shh, yes. I told him I had to talk with you first.”

“Well, do you want to go with him?”

“Not if it’s going to put you in a pissy mood.” She smirks.

“Do you…like Logan? Do you think he’d be a more fun date?”

“It’s not that I think he’d be more fun, but…you know he and I make out sometimes, it’d be nice to go with someone that I could be a little more intimate with. Besides, you have a crush on Josie, why don’t you ask her?”

“Because we go to every dance together.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Go with Logan, it’s fine. As long as you and I still take separate pictures together.”

“Of course! Oh, thank you, Harry!” She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. She’s about to walk away from him to go tell Logan, but he wraps his hand around her wrist. She furrows her brows as she look at him.

“But for senior prom, let it be known now, no matter what, you’re mine.” He’s as serious as a heart attack. For some reason, Orla’s mouth feels incredibly dry. She nods in understanding and Harry lets her go. “Go on, go tell your lover boy.”

Orla runs off to go find Logan, and Harry rolls his eyes. He ends up going to junior prom with Josie, who was overjoyed when Harry asked her to go with him. They all have a good time, and they end up having a big sleepover party in Owen’s basement. The lights are dim, and the air is a little smokey. People are drinking, others are staying sober, no one is pressuring anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Harry can’t help but glance over at Orla every once in a while. She’s sitting on Logan’s lap in a hoodie and joggers, but her hair and makeup are still all done up. They’re kissing and giggling, and Harry feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Frida shouts. Everyone gets into a circle on the floor, and they use a glass soda bottle to spin. Owen spins first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare?” Owne smirks at his friend.

“Dare.” Harry says confidently. Frida whispers something into Owen’s ear and he nods.

“I dare you to go into the closet with Orla for eleven minutes in heaven.”

Everyone falls silent. Harry and Orla look at each other, and then they both look at Logan and Josie.

“It’s not like they’re going to do anything. I say go for it.” Logan shrugs.

“This is so stupid.” Harry huffs and stands up. Orla follows behind him and goes into the closet.

“Timer starts now! We’ll let you out when it goes off!” Owen yells to them as he turns the music up.

Harry and Orla both cross their arms over their chests as they stand face to face in the cramped closet. They don’t say anything at first, but Harry breaks the silence.

“I think this is, like, the gazillionth time someone has dared us to do this.” He shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.” She sighs. “I’m so glad no one knows we were each other’s first kisses, they’d die if they found out.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Did you have fun with Logan tonight?”

“Mhm.” She smiles. “What about you and Josie?”

“She’s nice enough, I’m not really sure why I was crushing on her so hard for. She’s not really my type.”

“That’s too bad, I’m sorry.” Orla frowns. “I didn’t think you really had a type.”

“Well, I do.” He snaps. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t think I do.”

“Why do you like Logan?”

“He’s always been sweet to me. I think he’s cute, he helps me with my history homework. And he’s a good kisser.” She grins.

“Is that all you’ve done together? Just kiss?”

“Yeah, I would have told you if something more happened.”

“So…no second base?”

“Has he groped my boobs? No, I’m not ready for something like that yet.” She laughs.

“I thought second was, uh, blow jobs.”

“I thought that was third.”

“No, third is fucking.”

“Then what’s home plate?”

“Being in a relationship.” Harry laughs, and so does Orla.

“That’s fucked up.” She shakes her head.

“Do you think you’ll get to any of that with Logan?”

“I don’t know to be honest. I’m not really worried about it. I’m just going with the flow with him. Why do you care so much? I know he’s one of your oldest friends, but-“

“That’s not why I care. I just…” He steps a little closer to her and tucks some loose curls behind her ear. “I know how sentimental you get about things, and I’d kill him if he ever did something to hurt you.”

She looks up at him. She can feel his minty breath fanning over her skin.

“You can’t be my first for everything, Harry.” She says quietly.

“Why not?” He whispers. He’s just about to lean in when the door swings open.

“So? Did anything happen?” Frida asks excitedly.

“Nope, sorry to disappoint you all yet again.” Orla says, and brushes by all of them to go grab some water.

Harry walks out of the closet, and they all continue their game. When they finish, they all go back to just hanging out. Orla takes her place back in Logan’s lap.

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” He whispers to her.

“To do what?” She whispers back.

“You know.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Logan, I’m really only into kissing right now. I don’t want to do anything else.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to kiss in private, though?”

“We do that in your car all the time.” She laughs. “I’m having fun with everyone right now.”

“You just don’t wanna sneak off because Harry’s here.”

“That’s not true.” She frowns. “I just know what I’m personally not ready for. I…I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Orla stands up and grabs her sleeping bag and pillow.

“What, you’re not going to sleep next to me now?”

“I never was.” She throws her things down next to Harry, and buries her face into her pillow.

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing her back.

“Why is every guy a jerk? Like, why is sex the only thing on your pea sized brains.”

“Because our brains are pea sized.” Harry smirks. “We don’t have room to think about anything else. Did Logan try to pull a move?”

“Sort of. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere more private, and I said no, and he said I was only saying no because you’re here, but that’s not the case at all. I just don’t wanna go further than kissing, and he couldn’t comprehend that.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, I think that’ll just make it worse. It’s not like we were dating, it doesn’t matter. I just…do you think Josie will care if I sleep next to you?”

“Oh, her mom picked her up.”

“When?”

“Like an hour ago…after I politely declined a hand job from her.”

The two burst out laughing and get into their respective sleeping bags. Orla cuddles up to Harry’s side and he throws an arm around her. For the first time in a while, Harry’s able to fall asleep with ease.

//

The pair ended up going to the same college for undergrad, of course. No one expected them to go to different schools. However, their majors were vastly different. Orla wanted to be a Physical Education teacher, and Harry wanted to be a pediatric surgeon. So, while Orla was in her education courses, Harry was balls deep in biology, anatomy, chemistry, and calculus. Harry was assigned a roommate at random, another pre-med student; his name is Neil. And Orla ended up rooming with another girl from their high school who she didn’t know that well, but she figured it would be better than rooming with a stranger; her name is Katie.

During their freshman move-in, Harry got his shit settled and then went to help Orla. Their families all went out for lunch, and then it was just the two of them. Luckily, they were put in the same dorm, Harry would just be down the hall from her. Katie was an education major too, but her concentration was in social studies. Her and Orla would have a few basic education courses together before breaking off into their respective concentrations. She made it onto the women’s volleyball team, and Harry decided he’d just play intramural hockey when the season rolled around so he could focus on his classes.

Harry would go to all of his Orla’s home matches. As things got busier during the semester, they weren’t able to see each other as much during the day. They made up for it at night in the library or in their dorm rooms. The two had grown comfortable with one another over the years, so Orla had no problem just hanging out in a sports bra and spandex shorts around Harry, and he had no problem just wearing his boxers around her. One night, Harry was hanging out in Orla’s room while Katie was at work. They were laying in bed watching a movie. Orla was wearing one of Harry’s old Bruins shirts and a pair of cotton panties. Her phone keeps buzzing, and Harry’s just about had enough. He pauses the movie and sits up to grab her phone.

“Harry!”

“I’m muting your fucking volleyball group chat. I’m getting sensory overload from all of the buzzing…” He furrows his brows at the screen. “Why are they all asking you if you asked me something yet?” He looks up at her. “What do you have to ask me?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” She snatches her phone from him. “They’re stupid.”

“If it’s stupid then just tell me what it is.”

“Can we just watch the movie?”

“Give me your phone, I need to know.”

“No.” She hugs her phone close to her chest.

“Orla, just tell me what it is!”

“No!”

“Give me your phone!”

“No!”

Harry and Orla start wrestling on her bed. She’s not wearing a bra so sticking the phone down her shirt won’t work. She does the next best thing and shoved it down the front of her underwear. Harry pins her down by holding down her wrists.

“That’s not fair.” He says.

“It’s my phone.” She tries to wriggle out from underneath him, but he’s stronger than her. The phone buzzes again, and she grunts. “Harry, just let it go.”

“I’m literally not going to be able to sleep unless you tell me.” The phone buzzes three times in a row. Harry watches as Orla bites down on her bottom lip and looks away from him. “Oh my god, is that buzzing against your clit?” He laughs.

“Harry!”

“You did this to yourself.” He presses down against her to keep the phone even closer to where it’s effecting her. “Just ask me whatever it is and I’ll let you go.”

“You’re such an asshole!” She wraps her legs around his waist to try to flip them over, but her legs just aren’t strong enough. The phone buzzes again and she groans. “What are you gonna do, make me come you sick fuck?” She starts laughing from how absurd this whole thing is.

“I’m not the one who shoved my phone down my underpants.” He laughs. “Just tell me.”

“No.” Three more buzzes. “Fuck.” Harry’s eyes widen as he looks down at her, and she gasps. “Are you hard?!”

“No! I…my dick twitched!”

“Why?!”

“Because you’re moaning!”

“Harry, I swear to god if-“

The door opens and Kate comes in. She stops short when she sees Harry on top of Orla.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Her cheeks heat up.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Orla shouts as Harry scrambles to get off of her. She takes her phone out of her underwear and takes a deep breath. “He was trying to read my texts and we started wrestling.”

“Right…” Katie puts her things down and grabs her shower caddie. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I should be back in about thirty minutes.”

“We weren’t doing anything.” Harry says.

“Mhm.” Katie scoffs and leaves the room.

“Will you go to my volleyball formal with me next weekend?” Orla says to Harry.

“What? Is that what you had to ask me?”

“Yes.”

“Orla, why were you making such a big deal about this?”

“Because the girls were making it seem like the formal is a big deal and…I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Of course I’ll go with you to your formal. It’s just one night, it’s not a big deal. I’m doing well in my classes, I’m not worried.”

“You got so stressed your cried two weeks ago.”

“I was overwhelmed during midterms, you know I have test anxiety.” He hops off her bed. “Don’t sweat it, okay? Just text me the details.” He yawns. “I’m headed up to bed.”

“Gonna go rub one out?” She smirks.

“No.” He blushes. “I’m gonna go play video games with Neil. Have fun masturbating with your phone.”

“Don’t need it. I have stronger devices.” She grins.

“Yeah? Need help using them?” He teases.

“Get out!” She laughs and throws a pillow at him.

Harry blows her a kiss before he leaves and she blows one back. When Katie comes back in after her shower, Orla’s put herself to sleep. Well, actually she’s watching TV on her phone with her earbuds in because she doesn’t want to listen to Katie give her shit about Harry.

The night of the formal, Orla wears a simple little black dress that’s also strapless. She slips on a pair of black flats as well. Katie helps her get her hair up into a cute messy bun on the top of her head while Orla does her makeup. (Orla had Katie help her flatiron her hair to tame it a bit. She usually loves her curls, but she’s been experimenting with different looks.) Around 10PM there’s a knock on their door.

“Come in!” Orla shouts.

“Ready to go?” Harry asks and nearly chokes on his tongue when he sees Orla. “Wow, you look really nice.”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Orla rolls her eyes.

“Want me to take your pic in front of the tapestry?” Katie asks.

“Yes, please.” Orla smiles and hands her the phone. She poses with Harry for a few pictures, and then they head out.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harry asks her on their way to the volleyball house.

“Nah, we won’t be out for long.”

They make their way into the house about ten minutes later. There’s a table set up like a bar for everyone to make their own drinks at. Harry sticks with beer while Orla goes for a rum and coke.

“Hey, O.” Ben smiles at her. Ben was a junior on the men’s volleyball team, and he’s very cute. “Saw you on defense at your last match, you looked great out there.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks heat up, and she takes a sip from her cup.

“You come here with anyone?”

“Just my friend Harry.”

“Friend, huh?” He grins.

“Mhm.” She nods and takes a step closer. “He’s off talking to Chloe and Heather.”

“Not very nice to leave his date unattended.” He steps a little closer to her. “Especially when she looks so gorgeous.”

“Ben.” She giggles and gives him a playful push.

“You guys had one hell of a season. Aren’t you only one of, like, three freshmen to start this year?”

“Yeah, something like that.” She smiles.

“Gotta look out for the short ones I guess.”

“We’re pretty sneaky.”

An hour or so passes, and Harry can’t find Orla anywhere. He’s starting to get worried so he ventures through the house to see if maybe she went to the bathroom. She’s not in the one in the main hallway, so he goes upstairs.

“Where the fuck did she go?” He says to himself. He had been in the volleyball house plenty of times for various parties, so he had a good lay of the land. He goes to the larger bathroom, and opens the door.

“Ah, oh my god, B-Ben.” Orla’s head rolls back, allowing Ben to kiss on her neck. There she was, sitting up on the bathroom counter with Ben’s fingers knuckle deep inside of her.

“Orla?” Harry says.

“Dude, get out of here!” Ben shouts.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

Harry’s face flushes and he shuts the door immediately. He quickly goes down the stairs and weaves through the crazy amount of people in the house. He had been buzzed, but what he just saw totally sobered him up.

“Harry!” Orla shouts after him, but he doesn’t stop, he needs fresh air. “Harry, wait!” He pushes the front door open and sucks in a deep breath. “Harry! Oof!” She rams into his back and stumbles backwards.

“Get someone to walk you home, I can’t even look at you.”

“I thought he locked the door! And to be fair you didn’t knock.”

“I couldn’t find you for over an hour, excuse me for worrying about you.” He scoffs and turns to look at her.

“I was dancing with Ben and then we went upstairs, I’m sorry. I should have texted you.”

“Since when do you let random guys finger fuck you in bathrooms?”

“Um, Ben’s not a random guy. I’ve known since school started, what the fuck? I…I’ve been fingered before.”

“What? By who?” He shakes his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I told Frida.” She rubs her arms up and down. “It’s as far as I’ve gone, and I’ve never taken my clothes off to have it happen…”

“Did you do anything to him?”

“I gave him a hand job.”

“Was that your first time doing that?”

“No.”

“Oh my god!” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Are you going to tell me you haven’t done things? I’ve heard rumors, you know?”

“I’ve dry humped, that’s about it. No one’s ever seen my dick.”

“No one’s ever seen my vagina, not that that’s any of your business. There are certain things I don’t want to talk about with you, can’t you understand that?”

“I understand, I understand perfectly fine.” He goes to say something else, but he just shakes his head. “Come on, you look like you’re freezing.”

“That’s because I am.”

After that night, Harry let out his inner manwhore. During the spring semester, he fucked so many girls he lost track of their names. He didn’t tell Orla a single thing. He fucked all summer long without saying a word to her about it. When Orla first had sex the following school year, she slept with the same guy for the entire fall semester. It didn’t end well, though, which led to her crying into Harry’s chest for over an hour. That night they both opened up about everything, and agreed that keeping things to themselves wasn’t a good idea.

//

Undergrad flew by. Orla passed all of her certifications, and even found a job teaching phys ed at the high school level. She’d have all summer to work her ass off to save up some money and build her savings before starting fresh at her new school in the fall. Harry got accepted into all of the med schools he applied to, and was having trouble deciding.

“NYU is offering me the most amount of money…” He tells Orla one night.

“If…if you go there then you’ll probably end up working at a New York hospital.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you heard back from Harvard Medical yet?”

“No, and at this rate I bet I’m not getting in. Besides, they’re known for offering shit grants. My parents can’t afford to help. All of their money went to their lawyers.” Harry rolls his eyes.

After Harry’s freshman year, his parents told him they were getting divorced. His three older brothers had long since moved out, and with Harry gone his parents realized they just weren’t right for each other anymore. He didn’t take it well. This may have led to him fucking a lot that summer, and the absurd amount of tattoos he got.

“Then I guess…I guess you’re going to NYU.” Orla swallows. “You should do it, it makes the most sense, and you’ll get a great education.”

“Harry!” Mrs. Styles shouts from downstairs. “You got a large letter from BUSM!”

“Holy shit, I forgot I applied there.” Harry says, and the two race downstairs. Harry rips open the large envelope and gasps. “Oh my god! I was accepted in to BUSM’s MD program. Holy fuck, they partner with Boston Medical Center for their surgical residencies.” He looks at his mom, then Orla.

“Are they offering you any money?” Orla asks.

“Orla, um…do you mind if Harry and I go over this together? I’m going to need to FaceTime his father to discuss everything.”

“Oh, sure! Yeah, this is a big family moment. Come by later if you want, H.” She smiles and leaves.

“They’re offering me a decent amount of aid, Mum.” Harry says as he reads over the letter.

“Honey…don’t you want to get out of Boston? NYU could be a great experience for you.”

“Mum, BUSM is a prestigious medical school. Why would you want me so far away?”

“I don’t want you far away, I just want you to have some life experience, meet new people.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to stay here just because you don’t want to leave Orla.”

“That’s not why I want to stay.” Her mother gives him a look. “Okay, maybe I want to stay closer so I don’t have to be far away from her. Can you blame me? We’ve been best friends since the fifth grade. I couldn’t imagine only seeing her once every few months, and then I’d probably have to move out there full time, and she’s only certified to teach in Mass.”

“Honey, you’ve never had a stable girlfriend. Maybe being away from Orla could help you do that.”

“I just haven’t met anyone, it’s not her fault.”

“You’ve liked her since the day you met.” She laughs, astonished at his ignorance.

“No, I’m not one of those guys that’s only friends with a girl because he wants to date her.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t say that’s why you were friends. I just think if something was going to happen between you two it would have happened already. So, stop wasting your time waiting for her.”

“I’m not waiting for her to do anything. She’s my best friend, and she’s always going to be my best friend. BUSM makes more cost-effective sense. Think of how expensive the hole in the wall apartment I’d be living in in New York would be. I could definitely find a better priced place here, or I could commute for a bit to save money.”

“If you’d rather go to BUSM, then go. But make sure you’re doing it for yourself and not just to stay close to Orla.”

“I’d say it’s about 80/20.” He smirks, earning him a swat to the arm from his mother. “I’m kidding! It’s more like 60/40.”

“Jesus Christ, go call your father and let him know the good news.” She sighs.

//

Flash forward to present day – eight years later. The pair are twenty-eight; Harry is an attending pediatric surgeon at Boston Medical Center, making absolute bank, and Orla is at her third high school in six years because budgets keep cutting funding, which means P.E. teachers aren’t exactly in high demand. She lives in a small one-bedroom apartment, she’s constantly exhausted, and she wishes she had chosen any other profession. She coaches the girls’ volleyball team for extra money, and works at a bar on weekends and in the summer.

Harry and Orla are still the best of friends. They’ve made it through a lot of ups and downs. Through it all they’ve always had each other. He’s currently seeing a girl named Bailey that he met at a bar near work. Orla is going through a dry spell, but she’s not dwelling on it.

The school year had just ended, thank god, and she has Sunday through Tuesday off from the bar. Orla takes some time to go through her wardrobe and get rid of any dingy leggings or tee shirts. She has a strict budget for clothes because she’s constantly having to replace her athletic wear. She’s chilling on the couch Tuesday evening watching Property Brothers: Forever Home when she hears the jingle of keys on the other side of her door.

[READ THE REST ON PATREON]

[s-horne]

Donuts and pink coffee

2000 words of established-relationship stony set in my Harley&Peter universe where Tony hates Valentine’s Day and Steve is a hopeless romantic without even trying

**

It was a stupid excuse for a holiday. Really, just stupid. What was the point of it anyway?

Did it matter that Tony had forgotten, because it wasn’t as though it were one of their anniversaries or Steve’s birthday, was it? It was just another day, just an over-commercialized day essentially created by corporations to take advantage of hype. Valentine’s Day was a money-making scheme if he wanted to get political about it. Not that Tony was bitter, or anything. He just didn’t see the point in it.

It was never made into a big thing when he was a child. Jarvis, his parents’ housekeeper, had usually bought his wife a single red rose that she would be wearing in her hair when Tony got home from school and ran into the kitchen to steal a quick snack before dinner, and he always made sure that Tony’s mom always got a box of chocolates taken to her room with her morning cup of coffee, but there was no other ‘love’ present just because it was Saint Valentine’s Day. There were never any gifts from his parents to each other, never more than a stiff kiss on the cheek from Howard to Maria before he left the room to go back to his study. They didn’t even smile at each other over dinner; Howard was always too engrossed in his work to remember the date. The same went for their anniversary and Maria’s birthday. And pretty much every other day of their lives together.

 -

Since he’d woken up on the stupid holiday, Tony’s day had only gotten worse. Not that it had started out great when he’d slept through his alarm and then run out of milk for the kids’ cereals so had had to try and convince them to have toast instead – only to find that there was no more peanut butter and Peter didn’t eat toast without it.  

Then, when he’d gone to his coffee shop on his way to work, he’d struggled to get a regular cup of his usual coffee as the baristas tried to perfect drinks in frankly disgustingly-unappetizing hues of pink instead. Even his usual croissant had been replaced by a new range of cupcakes with fondant decorations of hearts and what were probably supposed to be cherubs, but had looked more like swans in diapers.

When he’d finally made it to the office – coffee- and croissant-less – the day had been far from productive. All his staff had wanted to talk about were their plans for the evening and every meeting he’d conducted had been interrupted by deliveries of massive floral bouquets for his blushing staff. The more flowers that had arrived, the more people asked Tony what he was doing to celebrate with his gorgeous man – his secretary’s words, not his. (Not that he disagreed.)

Apparently, nothing was the wrong answer to that question, judging by the dropped jaws and side eyes he’d gotten. Tony just didn’t need a day to tell Steve that he loved him. He didn’t need a stuffed bear or chocolates or red roses that suddenly seemed to be five times the price that they had been when he’d ordered them for Steve’s mom a few weeks before.

In his defence, he and Steve been together for years and they were the fathers to two young boys. Honestly, they barely remembered to kiss before they collapsed into bed, never mind finding time to plan an entire day of romance. They’d done all that before – well, no, they’d never really done that, actually. Their courtship had been a whirlwind of stuffed toys for the boys as gifts instead of flowers, dates to museums or playgrounds instead of theatres or restaurants, and snatched moments of ‘grown-up’ time between babysitter deadlines and after-school clubs. But it worked for them.

By the time he was done with meetings and paperwork and could head home, Tony was honestly fed up of life in general. After feeling nothing but peer pressure all day, he had decided to try and do something to at least mark the day. He’d tried to order Steve’s favorite takeout, only to find that the restaurant was fully booked and were experiencing a wait time of a few hours for delivery.

All he’d seen all day were signs for flowers, posters plastered in near enough every shop window for roses in so many shades of red that it made Tony’s eyes hurt. But Steve didn’t like flowers around the house because they were likely to be knocked over by a rambunctious little boy playing a made-up game and spill water all over the floor, so that was no good. They also had enough candy in the house to last them for months so that idea was out too. Neither of them had the need, or the want, for a stuffed bear and Steve didn’t do jewelry. 

Tony was stumped.

 -

Finally, finally, walking through the front door, Tony felt the day’s tension fall from his shoulders. He couldn’t get to the kitchen fast enough, needing to throw off his coat and drop his bag down before they suffocated him.

When he was finally free of those, – and his shoes, tie, and belt – he looked around, only just noticing that he was alone. It was unusual for him to be left alone for so long on the days that he was kept at the office later than five and was more often than not ambushed as soon as his car pulled up to the drive.

Before he could go searching, he noticed the table. Two of the tiniest boxes of candy were set on the table next to a box of donuts, placed right where he usually sat for their meals. Someone was obviously a lot better at romance than he was. Make that three someones, he realised as he stepped closer and noticed three different sets of handwriting, one on each box.

Daddy! Happy V-day! :) proclaimed one box of candy, letters neat and small enough to fit in the white space on the packaging.

Daddyy!!! Happy velentins day!!!!!! said the other in a bright red pen, box a little bent from Harley’s blatant enthusiasm and finished with a little doodle of what was probably a heart in one corner.

Grinning, Tony turned to the last gift. It was a box of his favorite donuts and very obviously from his favorite bakery, even if the label had been covered with a post-it note.

Sweetheart, it said in a stark black, Happy Valentine’s Day. Love you today and always

Tony swallowed, tracing his finger over Steve’s cursive. It didn’t make sense, how much he had and who he had around him.

What had he done to deserve the life he had?

   -

It didn’t take him long to find his boys after that and he paused in the doorway to the living room, feeling any leftover stress ebb away as he took in the sight of Steve sprawled out on the couch with Peter draped over his legs and Harley tucked under his arm, all three of them completely enthralled by the bright film on the television.

“What are we watching?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Peter and Harley’s heads shot up and they scrambled to get off the couch. Harley managed it first and barreled across the floor, throwing his arms around Tony’s neck when he was close enough and wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist.

“Daddy! You’re home!”

“I am, babe. I’m sorry I’m so late.”

Despite always saying he was too cool for hugs whenever Steve or Tony initiated them, Peter quickly joined Harley and buried his face in Tony’s stomach, hands on his thighs. “Hi. Didja see the candy?”

“I did, you little superstar. Thank you very much. Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”

“Valentine’s!” Harley shouted, far too close to Tony’s ear for comfort. “Love you!”

“I love you, too,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to Harley’s temple before he set him on the floor where he scampered back over to the empty couch. Running his hand over Peter’s hair, Tony mentally counted down the seconds of hug he had left with his eldest. Five seconds was pushing it, most days. “Love you, as well, terror.”

All too soon, Peter pulled away and Tony let him go with a held-back sigh.

“Hello, handsome.”

Smiling, Tony turned his head. “Hi, gorgeous. Say, you wouldn’t know anything about a box of donuts in the kitchen, would you?”

“Hm, possibly? Are they in a yellow box?” Steve asked, stepping closer, brow furrowed a little.

“Don’t think so. Pink, if I recall.”

“Oh, those donuts. Right, yeah, I know something about those,” Steve murmured, taking a last step to him and curling his arm around Tony’s waist. “Think I saw them earlier. A secret admirer, perhaps?”

Tony let himself move to Steve’s body, his hands lifting automatically to rest on Steve’s chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, lower lip pushing out a little as he sagged in Steve’s hold.

“Yeah? Why’s that, then?”

“Cause it makes me look bad,” Tony said, dropping his head into Steve’s neck much like Harley had done to him. God, he needed a hug.

Steve laughed softly. “How?”

“I didn’t get anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head, one hand settling on the small of his back, “it’s alright. I didn’t do it to get something in return.”

“Ugh,” Tony said eloquently. Steve had always been the better of the two of them. Better with words, better with thoughts. Apparently better with romance and remembering dates. “They only had pink coffee at my shop.”

“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It wasn’t.” Burying even closer, Tony let out a long sigh. “I didn’t even get a croissant.”

“Even worse,” Steve said, so much fake shock injected in his voice that it sounded like he was talking to one of the kids. When Tony pinched his side, he laughed loudly again. “Did you manage to salvage the day after that?”

Honestly, Tony couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, either, not with his boys laughing at whatever movie they had gone back to watching and with Steve’s arms holding him tight. He must have made some sort of noise as Steve chuckled again.

“I’ll take that as a no. Want to crack open those donuts? There’s a bit left of this film and I said the kids could have something sweet before they went to bed – I swear they got more candy from school today than they did at Halloween.”

Tony made another noise. “In a minute. They’re watching the film for now and I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

“Okay,” Steve said softly, pressing another kiss to Tony’s hair as his arms tightened around him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“So am I,” Tony said, eyes closing. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Course I do. I’m incredible.”

Tony snorted. “You’ve been hanging around with me for too long. But even if I don’t do flowers and chocolate and donuts, I love you. So, so much. You are one of the best things that ever happened to me and I thank everything I can think of every single day for you coming into my life.”

There was a silence, broken only by the laughter of their sons and some noise from the movie that Tony still hadn’t identified. All too soon, Steve pushed Tony away from him ever so slightly. With wide eyes, he lifted shaking hands to cup Tony’s face, thumb stroking over the apple of Tony’s cheek.

“You, me, and our boys,” he said, voice serious and unwavering and sounding like something one would say at an altar. “I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you.”

“I want to spend my life loving you.” Whenever he had to get serious, Tony normally chose to do it in their bedroom, with his back turned to Steve and the lights down low. He hated baring his feelings, hated putting himself somewhere to be vulnerable, but it was less scary with Steve’s cologne surrounding him and his touch keeping Tony grounded. “With our kids and some donuts and no flowers and the discounted candy I’ll buy tomorrow.”

Steve’s smile was gentle as he ducked his head and brushed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s eye, just above where his fingers lay. “I’ll take that deal. On Valentine’s Day and every other.”

[mist-sly]

Sing of the moon

Chapter One: Coffee talks

This is a Wolfstar MMA AU that's on AO3 that I have been writing. However I'm gonna start posting it on here too because its easier for me to kept track of what I wrote. Any ways Hope you enjoy!

It was the biggest fight of the year. The middle-weight title on the line. Millions of people watching around the world. The champ, Sirius Black facing one of his biggest rivals, Severus Snape. It was a long overdue fight, the two constantly targeting each other on social media and making comments to the press.

The hype had been real. Every press conference was another layer of added tension and anticipation to the fight. No one wanted to miss it. Sirius was athletic and had every technique known to fighting in his arsenal. A predictable fight many had said. Others argued that Snape’s slippery, submission style could be enough to beat the champ.

Either way, it had drawn the attention of everyone. Even those who shied away from the bright lights of UFC. It lured those who lived in the shadows of the fighting scene.

A large flat screen TV had been set up in the old underground stadium. A crowd of fighters all gathered round to watch, each one sitting on some old create or broken chair. “Its not looking good for him wolfy,” said a teenager with dyed grey hair. He was sitting cross legged on the floor. The TV screen reflecting of his blue eyes. “Ill say. Every punch Black is receiving is drawing blood,” a big, bulky red-haired man said. He scratched at his beard and looked over to his left staring at the young man who was sitting back on the old, patchy red couch. The young man’s eyes darted around the screen, zoning in to one thing specifically as Snape aimed a body shot. “You see something, don’t you wolfy.” The other fighters dragged their eyes away from the screen to look at the young man.

Remus Lupin sat forwards, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands covering his mouth and nose as he stared at the TV. Remus’s golden amber eyes narrowed right as Snape connect a light jab to Sirius face. He watched as a small cut formed on the champ’s cheek, drawing blood. He drew his hands away from his face showing his frown.

“There’s always something with an opponent like Snape,” he said in a low voice. The camera angle changed on the screen. A close up of Sirius’s face, enlarged for everyone to see. One eye was swollen shut, the other turning a mix of blue and purple. You could not see where cuts began, and trails of blood ended.

This should not have been the outcome. A total of three rounds the fight went on for. Thirteen minutes and a gory scene that would make any viewer feel sick. Three minutes into the third round and it was over. The champ got hit and did not get back up. The group of fighters where quiet. This should not have been the outcome.

However, everything happens for reason.

~

It had been exactly thirty-seven days since he lost. Thirty-seven days of thinking how? How did he lose that fight? Sirius had gone through it a thousand and one times in his head. He was quicker than Snape. Had a harder punch than Snape and was far more intelligent when it came to thinking on his feet?

Sirius shook his head to rid him off the thoughts. He was on his daily run to clear his head, not bring back more memory’s and questions. He stopped, his breaths heavy, panting as he ran a hand through his incredibly dark locks of hair. “Shit,” he muttered as he looked around. The area was unfamiliar to him. Small shops and old building surrounding the street he had just came down. Clearly it was in the more run-down part of Gryffindor. Sirius didn’t even know there was a run-down part of Gryffindor.

He spotted a small coffee shop further on down the street. A few people where sitting outside it but other than that, the street was relatively quiet.

A bell rang over head as he entered. The smell of coffee and baked goods immediately hitting him like a bus. It was warm inside, a delightful change from the nippy autumn air outside. The walls were painted a vibrant orange, the furniture looking old giving the whole coffee shop a warm and vintage feel.

“Hi, what can I get you?” asked a girl behind the counter. She had long, flowing red hair and beautiful green eyes. A sweet and pleasant smile on her face. “Sorry, I’m a bit lost. Could you tell me how to get to the upper side oh and a coffee, black?” he asked the girl.

The girl snorted turning away from him. “An up sider? How did you end up down here?” the girl asked as she started to brew a fresh pot of coffee. “Went for a run, got lost in my head.” Sirius give the girl a smirk as she looked over at him. Her eyes travelled up and down his body, taking in his appearance.

“Guess that explains why your sweaty. What about the bruises?” she asked staring at the faint mix of yellow and brown that covered half his face. Sirius smirk dropped. The girl knew she struct a nerve but before she could apologise, the bell above the door went again.

“Hey Lils. Can I get the regular for the trio and a peppermint tea for me?” Said a young man who walked towards Sirius. Tall, Sirius first thought upon seeing him. Skinny too. He watched as the young man walked towards him. His hair was curly, a caramel brown colour that Sirius doesn’t think he has ever seen before. He wore an old orange jumper that had seen better days and a pair of grey sweats that were rolled up at his ankles. Sirius looked at the bottom on his sweats surprised, surly no one that tall would need to roll up their cloths.

The young man nodded at Sirius before standing beside him at the counter. “Three sugars wolfy?” the girl, ‘Lils’, asked. The young man nodded.

It was quiet after that. The sound of coffee machines running and ‘Lils’ humming echoing around the small coffee shop.

“Here you go Up sider. One Back coffee to go.” The girl slid the coffee over to Sirius before scribbling something down on a piece of paper. “Up sider?” The man asked suddenly. Sirius looked over at him. His amber eyes sparling with curiously as he looked at Sirius.

It was now that Sirius got a good look at the young man. He had handsome features, that was for sure. He had a nice jawline, not to strong and not to soft. Freckles littered his face likes stars in the night sky. He has long eyelashes that seemed to make his amber eyes brighter.

He would have looked soft, too soft, if it weren’t for the scars on his face. He had one across the bridge of his nose and another one on his left cheek going down to his jawline. The young man had a fresh cut above his right eye that was bruised.

However, as Sirius looked at the man, the man also looked at Sirius. That was not good in Sirius’s head. The last thing he needed, was for the media to know where he is.

“You shouldn’t have lost your fight,” the young man said bluntly as Lils set the piece of paper down with directions in front of Sirius. The statement had taken Sirius by surprise. So, the guy knew him, that was great but to say something like that irritated Sirius. He didn’t see Mr tall and skinny facing a world class fighter like Snape.

“Excuse me. I’d like to see yo-“Sirius started only to be cut off by the young man saying, “Snape’s gloves were loaded.” Sirius blinked at the man, “tampered with,” he added in case Sirius didn’t understand.

Sirius couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Who the hell was this guy? Some losers who clearly knows nothing. Sirius took a deep breath and looked at the man. “Look. I’m not sure how much you know after fighting but official gloves have to be worn, not to mention that the gloves got checked and nothing was off with either one.”

The man however kept looking at Sirius with those amber eyes. “That wouldn’t necessarily matter. There’s always ways around the system.” He shrugged. Sirius could feel the laughter starting to bubble in him stomach again. “Ok then. Enlighten me, how were the gloves tampered with?” The man narrowed his eyes, a darker look falling over his once soft face. “A layer of padding was taken out of the gloves. That would have been obvious if they had not replaced it with something else. That other layer would have had to been roughly the same weight as the padding. My guess is that they used soft cast.” Sirius snorted.

Sirius knew what soft cast was. What fighter didn’t? It was an old scandal back in the day with a boxer. It had long since been forgotten though. The man continued, however. “It would make the hits harder on your face not to mention as the soft cast scratched the leather of the glove it would wear the material down.” He raised an eyebrow at Sirius to see if he was keeping up.

Sirius nodded and gestured for the man to continue, taking a sip of his coffee. Sighing the man rubbed his eyes, as if he were trying to teach a child how to read a simple word that they couldn’t quite grasp. “The soft cast would scratch against your skin and the impact of each punch would increase as the match went on because the cast would harden over time. Didn’t you notice when you were fighting, how the first hit was not hard but still drew blood? How as the fight went on Snape put less effort into each hit but was still able to increase the impact every time?” Sirius stopped drinking. His coffee cup frozen at his smooth lips. He blinked at the man as he thought back to the fight. When Snape landed his first punch, he was off balance. The punch shouldn’t have had enough force to bruise his cheek so badly, the way it did.

The more Sirius thought about it, the more he realized how much of what the tall, skinny man was saying, was true.

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes on the man just as ‘Lils’ brought over four take away drinks in coffee cups. “Here you go wolfy! One hot chocolate with cream for Seb, a black coffee with two sugars for Harley, warmed milk with coco powder on top for Cain and your peppermint tea, three sugars,” ‘Lils’ said happily with a bright smile. The man, ‘wolfy’, nodded his thanks and took the four drinks.

“Wait! How did you know about the gloves?” Sirius asked before ‘wolfy’ could leave. “I watched your fight. Noticed what was happening and put it together with an old street fighting trick.” He shrugged and opened the door with his back.

“A little too good to be true, don’t you think?” Sirius said with a laugh, but the young man didn’t laugh back. He shrugged and turned his back to Sirius. “If you don’t believe me then check for yourself.”

Sirius watched as the door closed behind the man. He stayed in the coffee shop, not taking his silver eyes away from the door. The conversation replaying in his head like a broken record. He turned back around to ‘Lils’ who was wiping the countertop. “Do you have a phone I could borrow,” he said in a rush. Like somehow, he would forget everything the man just told him.

The girl smiled at him and nodded. She took out her iPhone from the pocket of her green apron and handed it to Sirius. He wasted no time in dialing a number. Listening as it rang in his ear.

“Hello. Yeah, James it’s me. I need you and your dad to check something out for me……”

P.s this is my first proper time writing so I'm not the best. 

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Holding On for Dear Life

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Okay, this is something that I have been wanting to write for a long time, but never got to it. It’s not exactly polished a I would like right now, but wanted to posted the first part to see how it went over. Keep in mind, I am doing my best to go about Emmer and her illness as correct as possible, but a good portion of her is actually personal. I mean sure I can bog us all down with medical by the book, but personally I like my own life experience better. 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Hospitals, yuck!

Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone?

Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home.

Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital.

This time, he refused to leave.

“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital.

“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away.

Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning.

His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months.

“Hvits,” Emmer whined.

“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch.

Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events.

Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen.

She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car.

“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her.  

Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through.

Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why?

So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom.

Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating.

Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided.

“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?”

Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short.

Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling.  Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open.

No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain.

“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”

“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern.

“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.”  She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something.

“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.”

“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.”

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle.

“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him.

“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.”

“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.”

“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards.

“Your dad still seeing Yidu?”

“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?”

“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?”

“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.”

“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?”

“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.”

“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.”

“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?”

“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!”

“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?”

“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.”

“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.”

“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet.

“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back.

Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier.

Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off.

Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away.

In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4.

Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...

Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang.

“Hel-”

“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone.

“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”

“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.”

“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.”

“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?”

“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.”

“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.”

“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Fuck you.”

Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.

It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused.  Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother.

Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.

@danceyreagan @gearhead66 @supernaturalvikingwhore  @funmadnessandbadassvikings ,  @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @laketaj24​ @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @sdcyumyum  , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee  , @smolasianwinterbean  , @sweetvengeancee , @capitanostella , @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @branflakes82 , @lordavanti , @vvigilantes  , @angelswannawearmyredshooz​ , @kawennote09​ , @bluearchersstuff​ , @lisinfleur​ , @fumblingthroughchaos​ @pebblesz892​ , @angelaiswriting​ , @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​, @unacceptabletatertots​ @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone​, @captstefanbrandt​, @writingfromasgard​, @happydaysandersen​, @letowolfie​, @alicedopey​, @beautifulramblingbrains​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @rosepetals-flyingbirds​ , @ivarswickedqueen​, @oqueequesentes-borboletas​, @sodanova​, @groovyzombiellama​, @therealcalicali​, @rekdreams-fandom​ @grungyblonde​, @nevlahhh​ , @natalie-reader​, @ivarlothbroks​, @lol-haha-joke​ , @medievalfangirl​ @fictionbanshee​ @thisisabigmaze​  @ethereallysimple​ @emilie1993​  @mariaenchanted​ 

*I am operating on an old tag list, if you wish to be added/removed, please let me know*

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: candy hearts taste like chalk; mjf

Notes:

This one was sent to my main by @vonschweetz​ and I had to go there with it. Because what better than to make MJF a secret admirer.. Anyway, I thought I’d post it on here, so it has it’s own post. So, here it is.

Summary:

Girl and guy argue but there’s a mutual crush thing happening here. Guy decides to romance the shit out of girl as a secret admirer. Maybe this opens girls eyes to the fact that there’s more than just a burberry scarf wearing ass and fluff ensues. Kinda.

Pairing:

MJF x OFC, Jessa

Warnings:

fluff and shenanigans. valentines day shenanigans. anti-valentine ofc. 

“ Valentines is the corniest holiday, by far.” Jessa said it as she passed beneath a red garland of dangling hearts and arrows. She paused to swat at it, scowling upward at the ceiling as she laughed. From beside her, Penelope Ford spoke up. “Says the girl who probably couldn’t get a date tonight if she stood on a corner bare ass naked.”

“ That, coming from the woman with Kip Sabian. Did I ask for the opinion of an actual dumpster fire? Didn’t think so.” Jessa quipped as she jumped up, fingertips snagging the garland, giving it a firm tug downward. The garland came down, bringing with it a loose dusting of vibrant fire-engine red glitter and Jessa swatted at her neckline where some happened to settle, giving the tops of her breasts a generous dusting of sparkle that she didn’t want or need.

 “I’ll say it again. At least I have someone to spend Valentines with. You will never know that luxury.”

“And thank God above for that because I think I’d rather gouge my own eyeballs out than spend any amount of time with Kip Sabian for any reason. I prefer men who don’t spend more time in the bathroom than I do, thanks!” Jessa mimicked a sweet tone with Penelope as she walked away backwards, her middle finger up and the sweetest smirk she could manage on her face. It was the walking backwards that caused her to collide back first straight into the chest of a very amused MJF.

Jessa whirled around, about to apologize, but when she set sights on MJF towering over her, she bit her lip, grumbling quietly. “Well tonight is truly the gift that keeps on giving. Are you gonna move?”

“Ya know, a ‘hey Maxwell’, would be nice. Also please move. And maybe throw in ‘you’re so hot, Maxwell, while we’re at it?” MJF stared her down, his arms folded over his chest as he watched her facial expression change three different times. He loved irritating her, her face got all flushed and sometimes he managed to do such a good job that she actually stammered and wound up growling and flipping him off instead.

Deeper down though, he really wished that it was easier just to talk to her. Because he couldn’t get her out of his head. It drove him insane. Their confrontations always left him more than a little bothered. Not in a bad way, either.

He kept telling himself he had to do something, he had to learn to shove whatever it was that he felt way down deep because they’d never realistically work, he was one way and she was his polar opposite, but this stubborn part of him kept insisting they would. They had to. He wanted her and when he wanted something, he stopped at nothing to make it happen.

“Not as long as I have a pulse, Maxwell.” Jessa deadpanned, even though as she said it, she found herself getting lost in endless pools of milk chocolate brown and hating herself for being a girl who went gaga over a guy with deep and soulful eyes.

Which unfortunately, Maxwell Jacob Friedmann did have, despite him having absolutely no actual depth in personality to her own personal knowledge. … doesn’t stop me from being attracted to him like one end of a magnet to the other either, she thought to herself, frowning a little at the thought. They’d literally never work out.

She went to step past him and his hand shot out, gently gripping her wrist to raise her hand. His eyes settled on the glittery red garlands she’d been racing to the nearest garbage bin with and he eyed her, a perplexed facial expression that made her giggle and shrug under his intent gaze. He nodded to the garland finally and cleared his throat. “What’s the matter? Someone a little jealous at all the happy couples around her?”

Jessa’s brows rose and she laughed, snorting a little as she did. It was cute. MJF had to give it that much. He stepped a little closer, his free hand lingering at her hip ever-so-slightly as he continued to stare, his eyes breaking from her eyes to wander down and settle on a plump set of cherry-colored lips. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of just going for it and kissing her right then and there, but he reigned in the urge to do so. “Are you gonna answer me, beautiful?”

Jessa’s stomach fluttered.

…. It’s gotta be gas station nachos, there is absolutely no way I feel anything other than irritation for this gigantic douche…

Even as she had the thought, she KNEW deep down that was totally false.

“They were hanging too low in the door. It was annoying?” - fuck, why did that come out like I was asking his permission to move something that was in my way? Jessa finally answered and as she wondered why she’d done it, MJF was prying the garland from her hands carefully, his gaze not breaking from her own a single second as he smirked. “Are you sure that’s the only reason, princess? I mean you’ve been skulking around here all week moody. I think you’re lonely.” he clucked his tongue and shook his head. He honestly didn’t get her. He’d never seen anyone so repressed before and it bothered him because he knew that with her level of repression, sooner or later, an explosion was incoming. And she had nobody she was particularly close to that she could actually sit down and confide in. It had to be lonely.

… just admit it, you wanna be the one she does that with… the thought crept it’s way in, only to be shoved right back out because MJF wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that of all the women he could have fallen for, it was the one who hated pretty much everyone.

“I don’t get lonely, okay! I don’t..” her voice dropped just the slightest when she realized that she’d practically shouted the first part and people were watching them, “I don’t need anybody. This is just a stupid fuckin holiday that people use as an excuse to bribe people into thinking they like them when any of the other 364 days of the year, they couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck.”

The outburst was more telling than she realized and it gave MJF an idea, of sorts. A way in. At this point, he was grasping at straws where she was concerned, because every idea Allie bounced off of him just didn’t seem to work. It’d either be too much or not enough. But this one, this idea he was getting… It was simple and perfect.

“Maybe they do. They just can’t say it because you won’t hear it.” MJF mused, biting his lip as he gazed down at her. He halfway hoped that by now she’d pick up on the way he treated her worlds differently than he treated the others, but she hadn’t. If anything, it only seemed to make her edgier and alienate her more.

Jessa blinked and shook her head. For just a second there, it seemed like he was trying to hint at something. And the thought was a mixture of concerning and comforting. She found herself wondering again why MJF seemed to treat her with kid gloves sometimes, not willing to get as down and dirty when they had their war of words like she was.

“Whatever, Maxwell. Either way, this garland? Headed for the garbage.” she worked at prying it from his hand. Their hands wound up touching a time or two and she sucked in a breath at the warmth and the roughness of his hands. Certainly not the hands of a rich pretty boy, she found herself thinking and naturally, her mind chose to take that a step further, definitely a feeling I’d like to feel all over my body.. And she was shaking her head as if to shake that thought right out of it.

“Hey, whoa! Maybe just give that to me. I can find somewhere else to put it.” MJF took the garland back quickly, holding it out of the petite hellion’s reach though she leaped for it a few times. She pouted and bit her lip as she stared up at him, stepping away as soon as she realized just how close she’d been standing to him.

That designer cologne he wore was haunting her now, she’d probably smell it all night and catch her mouth-watering. She tucked some hair back behind her ear and swallowed hard, nodding to the garland. “Fine, whatever. I..I don’t have time to deal with you right now.” Jessa whirled away, so flustered that she started to head down the wrong end of the hallway. She swore and backtracked, walking past him as quickly as possible and definitely not meeting his gaze as she did so.

She fell into the makeup chair dramatically and let out a long groan as she closed her eyes. From the seat next to her, Allie giggled and spoke up. “Dramatic entrance. I’m going to assume that you’ve already had a run-in with Maxwell tonight?” she asked as she slicked cherry colored gloss on her lips, puckering up at her reflection in the mirror.

Jessa grumbled and dug around in the makeup kit sitting in front of her, casting aside product after product. “Why do I even bother with this crap? I’m here to fight, not look pretty. If I’d wanted to do that I’d have gone the America’s Next Top Model route.” she slammed the lid of the case shut and Allie stood, gracefully stepping over to the chair Jessa sat in, taking hands full of Jessa’s soft dark brown locks into her hands. “You could’ve done it, ya know?” Allie mused almost nonchalant. Jessa eyed her warily.

Allie found herself praying to God that MJF hurried up with whatever he was up to because she could only keep Jessa occupied for a limited time; Jessa wasn’t known for patience. Or sitting still. Or making conversation for extended periods.

The girl was living, breathing chaos.

She honestly still couldn’t figure out what got MJF all stirred up over her and if he hadn’t given her the impassioned speech he had last night when he enlisted her help for tonight and his attempt at romancing Jessa, she never would’ve agreed to it because she’d seen quite a few less fortunate girls meet with heartbreak at the hands of the man.

She was massaging Jessa’s scalp and she gave a soft laugh when she heard Jessa sigh and saw the woman’s eyes flutter open and closed. “Scalp massage. They really do help your hair. Especially for those with manes like you’ve got yourself here. How do you deal with your hair being so thick?”

Jessa shrugged. “I don’t like change. It’s easier to just throw it up than to cut it off and miss it.” As Allie’s fingers moved haphazardly over her scalp, she found herself going back to the way it felt when she and MJF accidentally touched a few times. And the look in his eyes when he said what Jessa felt had to be a hint at something.

“Well, it’s gorgeous. Maybe if we just moved a little out of your eyes so it’s not always getting in the way of your view…” Allie eyed the way she’d grabbed Jessa’s hair in the mirror and she grabbed for a few pins the same shade as Jessa’s hair and she slid them into the area she’d been holding, stepping back. “Ooh. I like it.”

Jessa eyed it and then Allie. She gave a little smile and shrugged. “Yeah, why not. Listen,” she gestured at the makeup kit in disgust, “Apparently, I have to wear this shit. So.. Whatever you wanna do, I guess?”

Allie clapped her hands together, giving a laugh similar to the ones she gave during promos and she opened the kit, setting to work. Jessa just sat there letting her because if she had to admit it, she could do her own makeup just fine, she was just far too lazy to be bothered. So, every week, she pulled this trick with the other women.

Her favorite time arguably was whenever Riho or Nyla happened to be present. On occasion, it was enjoyable whenever Kris was around and felt like doing it, because she always had creative ideas.

As Allie was getting ready to pop some false lashes on Jessa, her cell phone lit up. She went ahead and put on the lashes and Jessa sat blinking, giving a soft laugh. “Fancy! I don’t entirely hate these. Thanks.”

Allie nodded and smirked at the other woman. “I’m heading down to change. Maybe we can walk down together?”

“Why not?” Jessa shrugged mildly as she slipped out of the chair, falling into step beside Allie. As soon as they got into the locker room, Jessa hurried over to her locker, pulling it open.

The box of conversation hearts sat there and she glanced around, brows raised and a confused look on her face. “At least it’s not the kind that taste like actual chalk.” she took out the box, opening it and pouring some in her hand. She’d been just about to eat them but she stopped when she realized that they all said the same thing.

“I Want You. Okay then, stranger with candy.” Jessa muttered as she poured the candies in her hand into her mouth. Allie laughed from beside her just as Jessa noticed the single dark red rose leaned against the inside, with a card and she reached for them. “What?” Jessa eyed Allie who simply shrugged and went back to dressing for her match.

Jessa tore into the envelope, eyes darting over the card. “ Roses are red, that much is true. But violets, they’re purple and definitely not blue. Enjoy the mystery and by the end of tonight; I’ll reveal myself to you.” she muttered the words, giving a quiet snort. “Not too shabby, I’ll say that. Whoever did this probably got the wrong locker.” Jessa’s fingers wound through her hair and she flipped over the red envelope, a brow raised at her name scrawled across the front. “Okay, so it’s for me. Oh god, I know what this is!” Jessa gave a soft laugh, peeking behind the lockers that separated the front of the room from the showers and toilet stalls in back. “Okay, you guys can come out now.”

Allie raised a brow and started to ask what exactly Jessa thought was going on, but she didn’t have to because Jessa turned to Allie and shrugged. “This is a joke. I mean.. It’s gotta be, right?” as her brows knit together in total confusion. She tossed another handful of the candy hearts into her mouth. Allie bent down, picking up the torn book page from the floor as she held it out to Jessa. “I think this was in that when you opened it.”

Jessa eyed the torn book page. It was ripped from a book of poems. She remembered reading it in an airport earlier in the week. Her fingertip caught in the ends of her hair, twisting and tugging at a strand or two as she read the POEM out loud, shuffling her feet and fidgeting the entire time. “Okay, that was…”

“Sexy? Sweet? Intense?” Allie questioned, trying not to laugh. Maybe Maxwell’s idea wasn’t doomed to fail like she’d told him it would. Then again, she honestly thought Jessa hated the guy to begin with, so it did beg to question…

“That’s one way to put it. Phew.” Jessa fanned her face with the card and took a few deep breaths. “Well? Aren’t you gonna share?”

“Okay, alright.” Jessa took a deep breath and cleared her throat, starting to read from the torn book page.

Come here and take off your clothes & with them, every single worry you have ever carried. My fingertips on your back will be the very last thing you will feel before sleeping & the sound of my smile the alarm clock to your morning ears.

Come here and take off your clothes & with them, every single yesterday that has snuck atop your shoulders & declared them home.  My whispers will be the soundtrack to your secret dreams and my hand, the anchor to the life which you will open your eyes to.

Come here and take off your clothes. - Tyler Knott Gregson

“Oh wow. Damn. Hey, the hearts. What’d they say again?” Allie asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. She had a feeling that she was starting to catch on to what Maxwell was up to and if she was right, it was… Definitely not something she’d have ever associated with the guy.

She’d never have assumed that beneath the cocky and almost overbearing exterior an actual romantic resided within.

Jessa grabbed the box and poured out a handful. The lone pink candy heart caught her eye and she raised a brow, reading it. “Nice tits.” she couldn’t help but giggle and look down as she joked aloud, “Bitch where, huh?”

Allie cleared her throat and Jessa held out one of the blue hearts in her hand. “Be Mine.”

“Oh wow. The poem is connected to the hearts, I think. And maybe nice tits was the person’s way of teasing?” Allie bit her lip as she looked over at Jessa. Jessa was obviously still reeling from the effects of the poem on the torn book page and Allie had the feeling that if this round of Maxwell’s little ‘game’ was this intense, by the end of the night, Jessa was going to be an actual mess.

It amused her.

Jessa turned over the paper and she dug around, eventually resorting to using a lipliner pencil she had in her messenger bag to scrawl on the front of the paper that’d been left with the candies and the card and rose.

“There’s one problem with this, stranger with candy. Well, two. One, my mom always told me not to take candy from strangers. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t follow directions? And the main problem. I can’t be yours if I don’t know who you are? But this is entertaining. It certainly got my attention. - Jessa”

Allie watched Jessa scrawling the note onto the front of the paper and stick it back into her locker and as soon as that was done, Jessa turned to Allie and shrugged. “Now we’ll see if it was a fluke or not I guess? I’m betting it is.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, actually. Why’s it so hard to believe a man might be interested in you, Jessa?” Allie’s head tilted as she asked the question and Jessa shrugged. “Guess I’m just not used to it? I mean I’m not exactly people-friendly for the most part.” Jessa used air quotes to accentuate the phrase used and she smoothed her hands down the front of her favorite worn out skinny jeans, stretching. She was suddenly excited and full of energy.

But also, she was smart enough not to set the bar too high. And as soon as the thought of who she hoped it might be sending the candies and that poem crept in, she was choking on bottled water she’d just grabbed from the vending machine in the hallway.

Almost as if the guy had a radar and knew when she was even thinking about him, there he was, tapping her on the back and eyeing her with a raised brow while trying not to chuckle.

“Twice in a night.” Jessa choked out, catching her breath at last and continuing, “What the hell did I do to the man upstairs?” with hints of a teasing smirk. When their bodies brushed, she swallowed hard and attempted to step away a little. He wasn’t having to invade her personal space bubble tonight, apparently, she was doing good enough at it on her own.

MJF chuckled quietly. He’d gotten Allie’s text with a video clip of Jessa’s reaction so he knew good and well that right now, she was flustered and it embarrassed and infuriated her because she wasn’t used to it.

“Again, Jessa.. A ‘Hi, Maxwell. You look especially hot now that you just finished beating Diamond Dallas Page’s old ass’ would be great. Or even ‘Gee, thanks for keeping me from choking to death on a Voss.” MJF commented, staring her down intently. He hoped to God that Butcher and Blade hurried back from the little trip he’d sent them on because the rest of his surprise for Jessa kind of depended on it.

Tonight was the night. He had to do something to make himself known to her. He wanted her to see the side of him that he didn’t bother showing anyone else.

He grumbled when Guevara wandered over, stopping in front of Jessa again. “Hey baby girl.”

“Fuck off, child.” Jessa grumbled, glaring at the other guy. At least Maxwell has a right to be so goddamn cocky, Jessa mused to herself as she gazed almost boredly at Sammy, this guy has not a single one and yet… He thinks he’s god’s gift…

For a split second as Sammy was fucking her with his eyes again, the thought crossed her mind that he could well be the one behind everything she’d just found in her locker and that thought had her laughing so hard she was doubled over in an instant. The laughter served a dual purpose when Sammy eyed her as if she were losing her entire mind and made a hasty retreat. MJF cleared his throat.

“Think you might share what’s so funny?” Maxwell eyed her with a brow raised.

“I just.. No, if THAT bag of dicks is sending me secret Valentines stuff.. There’s no way it’s him. He’s got all the depth of a kiddie pool.” Jessa gulped as soon as their bodies bumped together lightly.

There went that magnetic pull to MJF that she’d yet to figure out and couldn’t seem to ignore. Rather than step away this time, she found herself kind of.. Gazing up at his lips intently. She wasn’t a tiny girl, but he towered over her easily. She found herself toying with how easy he’d be able to pick her up and toss her into bed. Or hold her against a wall. She coughed again, nearly choking on her own saliva this time and Maxwell chuckled. “You seem distracted. Did this mystery guy really get you that riled up, Jessa? Does this mean that contrary to what you said earlier, you actually might just be a little lonely?”

His hand wandered down, lightly squeezing her hip and the feel of his rough hands against her skin was enough to have her thighs clenching just slightly. She’d die before admitting it, but everything about Maxwell Jacob Friedmann got to her. Whether it be sexually or in irritation.

“Or maybe this guy just really KNOWS what I really want. Unlike others who constantly just run their mouths and don’t bother trying to back their words up with actions.” Jessa countered, her hand lowering as she teasingly slid a fingertip right across his lower abdomen, smirking up at him almost teasingly when her eyes met his and she caught him swallowing hard and trying to catch his breath.

Let him be as flustered as he leaves me all the goddamn time, Jessa thought to herself as she called out to Allie, “Wanna go to that 7-11? I feel the need for a Slurpee.”  and Allie agreed to it quickly. It worked out almost perfectly because this gave MJF time to get round two of his little ‘game of seduction’ set up for Jessa to find when she returned.

“Hey, since you’re goin’, bring me back something.” he called out, half teasing. Just because he knew her well enough to know it’d be met with her middle finger and a smirk.

As soon as the two women were safely out of the arena, he whipped out his cell phone and called Butcher and Blade. “Where the actual fuck are you two right now, huh? I wanna get this done. So I can get to the best part… The part where I FINALLY get all this off my chest.”

“We’re incoming. It took a while to find a place that still had the exact flowers and the other things you wanted to get her, man.”

–

Skid Row was blasting so loud that Allie almost couldn’t hear herself think. Jessa clearly couldn’t drive, she was zigging and zagging in and out of traffic as if she were a wheelman on their way to a bank robbery or something. It was a stark contrast to Maxwell’s staunch position on 5 miles over was risky enough. Allie was really starting to see what exactly might have drawn her friend to Jessa in the first place.

Jessa was loud and wild and breathing chaos. Maxwell was calm and over-thinking to a fault almost. People were constantly telling the guy that he needed to loosen up; including Jessa on several of her more playful occasions. The car came to a sharp stop in the parking lot of the 7-11 and Jessa was jumping out, waiting on the sidewalk on Allie. Allie needed to collect herself and she almost wanted to kiss the ground she stood on just because she’d made it to the little gas station in one piece. Jessa giggled. “You act like you’ve never ridden in a fast car. C’mon.”

She was scrambling through the door, grabbing an arm full of junk and a Cosmopolitan with “The Best Sex of Your Life: Ten tricks You should Be Trying in 2020” in bold red across the cover. Allie grabbed herself bottled water and let her eyes dart around warily, nudging Jessa and nodding to the junk food in her arms.

“Is all that necessary?” Allie questioned, twisting a strand of blonde around her fingertips as her eyes darted around the little gas station before settling back on Jessa.

“No, but I WANT it.”  Jessa shrugged and Allie gave a laugh at the response. She’d finally found it.

The common thread between the two. When they wanted something, there was zero hesitation. This whole thing was either going to go exactly as Maxwell seemed to think it would or Jessa was going to explode. Either way, it was something Allie was definitely amused by.

“What are you doing now?”

“Getting the gigantic bag of dicks something. He’s a meathead. A protein bar, maybe? No, no..” Jessa knit her brow as she scoured the shelves, trying to find something to take back to Maxwell, even though she honestly couldn’t care less.

Or so she kept telling herself.

Allie smirked and stopped Jessa mid bend. “Oh my god. You.. You actually LIKE him… Don’t you?” she was taunting gently and Jessa bit her lip, blowing strands of hair out of her eyes as she muttered in an annoyed tone, “Let’s just say I wouldn’t throw him outta bed and leave it alone, alright? Okay, got meathead his protein bar thing and bottled water and some of those stupid Rocher chocolates. I’m all done.”

“Good god, woman. You realize all this… glorified junk.. Is going straight to your ass, right?”

“God I can only hope. I’m tired of having a non-existent ass.” Jessa quipped, hurrying to the register as soon as she’d gotten her cherry-flavored Slurpee. After paying for everything, they got back into the car. Allie crossed herself and buckled in and Jessa snickered. “My driving is not that bad.”

“Woman, my entire life story played like a movie in front of my eyes the entire time.”

Jessa gave a soft laugh and poked out her tongue, fixing her eyes on the road as she pulled out of the parking lot and merged with traffic.

Allie knew how much Maxwell was worrying about his chances at pulling his whole master plan off for the night. And since he was kind of a friend, she felt like she should give the guy a little hope.

← Okay so. Here’s the thing.

← Your girl cannot drive, first of all.

← Second, she kind of admitted something huge to me.. About you.

← Do not make me regret helping you because she’s honestly kind of growing on me…

They were pulling to a stop in the parking lot of the arena and Jessa was digging around, grabbing her issue of Cosmo, her cherry-flavored Slurpee and the share size bag of sour skittles she’d bought herself. She eyed the stuff she’d gotten MJF and sighed, grumbling. “I HATE having a weak spot for that frickin meatball.”

“Why does liking someone annoy you so much?”

“I dunno.. Never really thought about it.” Jessa shrugged as she grabbed the bag with the stuff she’d gotten him inside and got out of the car, shutting the door with her hip. She’d just stepped through the door and into the backstage area when she spotted MJF. She walked up and tapped his shoulder with the protein bar and once he’d turned around, she deposited the candy and protein bar as well as the bottled water into his hands and skipped away without a word.

MJF was left standing there watching her skip away, untwisting the cap on his bottled water as he smirked to himself.

A softer smirk.

–

Jessa stood in front of her locker, eyeing it almost as if she was torn between opening it or just walking away. Finally, with a little swearing, she pulled it open and reached inside. Her hand closed around something thin and upon pulling it out she realized it was a white rose. She passed it under her nose, giving a little smile before tucking it behind her ear and she reached into her locker again.

The note she’d scribbled out to whoever was behind this was sitting there, this time with their own response beneath.

Yeah, I’ve noticed that you and directions don’t exactly go hand in hand. It’s one of the things I love about you though. As far as your second concern, all will be revealed after the show is over.  Until then, just enjoy this.

The box of conversation hearts was back again and this time the color was orange. Jessa raised a brow, opening the box and taking one out as she took a sip of her Slurpee. “U&Me and Nice Ass, huh? Okay, you have me curious now. This is.. A giant puzzle.” Jessa eyed the note and tried to think.

She’d never seen the writing on it before. It was neat and smaller. Her hand raised to her hair and she raked her fingers through it, shuffling her feet against the locker room floor. “Hmm.”

Nyla spoke up from behind her. “White roses mean new beginnings.”

Jessa turned and bit her lip, eyeing the rose. New beginnings? She’d honestly just thought whoever was going to all this trouble was just giving her flowers. “Any chance you know what a deep red one means?”

Nyla mulled it over and then asked the other woman with a smile, “Any reason why you want to know?”

“Because earlier tonight, I got this. And now, I’ve got more. And I get the feeling that everything means something, and it’s driving me insane. It’s like the answer is literally right in front of my face?” Jessa gathered what she got earlier in the night and what she’d just gotten, holding it out to Nyla, who read over everything and snickered quietly at the two hearts she had left from earlier and the ones she’d just gotten.

“Girl, somebody is trying to tell you something alright. This” Nyla waved the note that Jessa’s admirer responded on at her, “The writing looks familiar.”

“Oh?”

“But it CANNOT be him.”

Jessa was holding her breath and waiting patiently for an answer but all Nyla would do was smirk and hand her the note back. “It’s called a surprise, Jessa.”

“Damn it! No fair!” Jessa stomped her feet and pouted, but Nyla shrugged. Oh, she could’ve easily told Jessa that the writing on the note might possibly be the handwriting of one Maxwell Jacob Friedmann, but she wasn’t about to ruin the potential for amusement later in the night.

And she was lowkey impressed by the symbolism in the little puzzles. If Jessa really thought about it, the answer was right there in front of her nose, just like she thought.

Jessa turned her attention back to her locker, wondering if there would be another page torn from a book. She reached back in and smirked as she felt her fingertips brush against paper. Her eyes darted over the torn page eagerly and she crossed her legs, going fidgety at the words on the page.

I want to wet your lips

Tantalize your tongue

Elevate your heart rate

And make your veins hum

Burn like the fire inside of you

As you swallow me down

Drink me

Drink deeply my love

Intoxicate yourself with my presence

Imbibe my essence

I want to make you so very dizzy

Stumble footed

Room spinningly dizzy

Drunk on love.

- John Mark Green

She finished reading it and sat it down on the tabletop, taking several deep breaths. “Okay, wow. You sir.. Are a grade A tease and a half.”  

She wandered out of the locker room intent on walking it off, Slurpee and Skittles in hand, roaming down the hallway as she tried to puzzle everything out. Her mind was a thousand miles away and this is how she wound up colliding with MJF for a second time. He steadied her and she gazed up at him, taking a long sip of her Slurpee.

“Do you ever watch where you’re going, Jessa? I could’ve knocked you over.” Maxwell eyed her in concern because he’d literally been barreling down the hallway, too damned angry at DDP to even stop for a second to consider anyone else in his path.

Jessa continued to drink her Slurpee and shrugged it off. He was being weird tonight. No weirder than usual, Jessa thought to herself as she tossed her Slurpee into the garbage nearby. She almost asked him if he recognized the writing on the note, but she decided against it.

Why give him one more reason to be an ass?

“I’m fine.” Jessa finally answered, her gaze shifting from his eyes down to his mouth. She quickly tore her eyes off his mouth and tried to find literally anything else to focus on. He chuckled quietly and asked, “Are you sure? You seem a little dazed. Not to mention, you actually bought me something back earlier.”

“Maybe I can be nice on occasion?” Jessa tried to downplay it, but she found herself pinned in by his hypnotic gaze and staring right back at him, praying like hell he didn’t read too much into it.  MJF’s gaze darted down to her tee-shirt and he raised a brow.

“The Lost Boys. Is that some kind of band?”

He used that teasing tone. Jessa gaped at him a second or two and then gave a soft laugh. “Please tell me you did not just ask that.”

“What?”

“If The Lost Boys, the best freakin’ vampire epic of all time… is a band.”

“I mean, given the stuff you classify as music, Jessa.” he shrugged, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth upward as he found himself stepping closer. She had some hair hanging right into her left eye. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out and brushing it out to tuck it behind her ear. She eyed him warily and shook her head.

No, she thought to herself, there is no way it’s him leaving me the candies, roses and poems. It can’t be, it just can’t. That man doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

But something kept insisting that at very least, she was completely wrong about him.

“It’s a movie, Maxwell. A freakin amazing movie.” Jessa finally managed to answer, barely hiding a laugh. “It’s right up there with The Breakfast Club. Or I think so, at least.”

MJF grinned a little, leaning in closer. “I know that one. And it is a decent movie. Despite glaring plot holes.”

“How dare you!” Jessa pretended to be offended, rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s too low class for a man of your tastes. It’s probably over your head anyway. There are no plot holes, Maxwell, how dare you.”

“It’s true.” he shrugged mildly and Jessa threw her hand in his face, being sassy all over again.

“I refuse to continue this conversation. I’m going to hair and makeup. Maybe I can bother some of the girls. Maybe Penelope will be in there again and I can make her fuck up her makeup. That’d make tonight even better for me.”

He smiled to himself, shaking his head. He realized what she’d said at the end and curiosity took over, prompting him to call out after her, “What’s made it good so far? I mean you started it off cranky like usual. Now suddenly, you’re being a little tease and laughing..”

“Oh, nothing.” Jessa drawled, holding his gaze for a few seconds. “Just finding out that maybe there are decent people in the world?”

Before he could get anything else out of her, she was gone, vanishing into hair and makeup. He took a deep breath and eyed the time on his Geneva watch. It was time to go for it. The last part to this whole elaborate plan. Somehow knowing that she was happy at least made the potential for this to go totally awry completely worth it for him.

He’d die before admitting it, but tonight’s surprises were not something he’d do for just anyone. He’d already wrapped up far more time in her than he’d ever done for any of his past relationships. That alone said something.

Knowing what he’d done at least gave her a smile had him smiling too.

And torn between total anxiety and the smug feeling of proving there was so much more to him than met the eye for her when he finally did reveal himself.

He set off to get everything set up one last time.

Allie spotted him and waved him over, holding open the locker room door. “You have to hurry. You almost got caught last time, she literally came rushing right back in almost five minutes after you left. Just.. get this done, Maxwell.”

“Okay, alright. Calm down.”

He went straight for Tessa’s locker, opening it. After he put the pale violet colored rose into the locker along with the box of candy hearts and the book page, he picked up the little note they’d been ‘passing’ for the better part of the night, his eyes brightening when he turned it over and read her response to his previous one.

“You’re probably the only one who loves that about me. After the show, huh? I’ve gotta say… This is probably the most excited I’ve been in a long time. And I don’t even like Valentines Day. I’m getting the feeling that all of these things you’re leaving me all have a meaning. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I will. So, we’ll just see if you can keep your secrets, sir. We’ll see. - Jessa”

–

The show was getting closer and closer to an end for the night. Jessa found herself getting more and more excited with each minute that passed. It took all her limited restraint to keep from rushing back down the hall and into the locker room just to see if her mystery admirer had left anything else. She’d asked around as subtly as possible about the note and the handwriting on it, and nobody would tell her anything.

Jake Hager almost doubled over laughing and wouldn’t say anything beyond telling Jessa to keep an open mind when whoever it was revealed themselves. She was starting to think that everybody in the back was in on this somehow. She sat on top of a trunk in the hallway when she saw Allie going into the locker room after looking up the hall and down as if she were waiting on someone.

“Weird.” Jessa shrugged it off, scrolling through her Spotify library, choosing a song to listen to as she tried to work out what everything meant.

Nyla told her the red rose meant deep love and the white one meant new beginnings. The poems seemed to tie into the messages on the candy hearts she’d been left. Jessa rubbed her temples, her nose wrinkling as she went over a list of possible people, trying to rule out every single one of them.

She hopped off of the top of the trunk she’d been sitting on and started down the hallway. If there wasn’t anything in her locker this time she’d know it was probably a collective hazing thing. She was almost halfway convinced that was what this had to be, but then why hadn’t anyone else who’d just signed with the roster gotten similar?

Pacing in front of her locker must have been driving Britt crazy because Britt finally cleared her throat. “Something wrong, Jess?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing.” Jessa was quick to say it and after a deep breath and telling herself just how ridiculous she was being, she opened the door to her locker one last time.

She reached inside and pulled out a violet-colored rose and another box of candy hearts. The torn book page fluttered to the floor and so did the note they’d been leaving back and forth all night.  Jessa bent quickly to retrieve them off the floor and as soon as she had, she read the note first.

I’m glad I have you excited. And that I finally have your attention. It’s been nice seeing you smile. You’re cute, okay? Especially when you smile and giggle and do things that tease me more than you realize. Gotta confess.. I’m really nervous and that’s something that just doesn’t happen. I’ll be waiting outside right after the show ends. Look for the guy in the brown jacket, if you don’t figure out who I am. Personally? I’m pretty damn confident you won’t.

Jessa laughed softly and shook her head, sitting down the paper in favor of the torn book page.

Fist full of hair

Desire

Mouth full of silence

Pleasure

Tongue curling and coaxing

Intoxicating

Hips thrusting

Abandonment

Nails digging

Rapacious

Throats instinctively swallowing

Indulgence

Eyes full of desire meet

Rapture

- The Dark Muse

“Fuck.” the k lingered sharply as she re-read the poem and felt her body starting to burn up all over. She fanned herself and swallowed hard, eyes darting around. She’d seen Allie in the locker room earlier, so naturally, she wandered over.

“Hey, when you were in here a  few minutes ago, did you see anybody around my locker?”

Allie gave her a blank look and swallowed hard. She was beyond tempted to tell Jessa exactly who was behind it all, but she decided against it and shook her head no instead. Jessa smoothed her hands over her jeans and took a deep breath. “Damn it. This is driving me insane.”

She took the box of candies and opened them, biting back a quiet whimper as she read the sayings on the hearts inside. “All mine.” she poured the box out as she muttered the words written on the first heart she pulled out. Right away, her sights fell on the purple one and she picked it up, reading it. “All night. Fuck.” Jessa fanned herself and took a few shaky breaths. If she thought the poem he’d left the second time had her a soaking wet mess before, that was nothing compared to the latest poem and the hearts.

She wandered over to Nyla and tapped her shoulder. “What’s a purple rose mean?”

Nyla stopped and mulled it over, smiling. “True love.. Or love at first sight. Or that’s what my grandma always told me. Was that rose purple this time? Girl…”

“It was and he’s waiting outside, holy shit.” Jessa fanned herself, bouncing up and down for a few seconds because she was suddenly that excited.

And anxious. So very anxious. Because the thought hit her then… what if it was someone she wasn’t interested in?

Or alternately, what if it was someone she was extremely interested in?

Like say, Maxwell Jacob Friedmann?

She laughed it off. There was no way it was him. He merely liked to push her buttons and get her riled up because that was just his way. Surely there wasn’t some deep hidden meaning?

But, she found herself thinking, new beginnings, which the white rose symbolizes, only really fits him. Because him and I got off to a really, really rocky start.

As she gathered her things and prepared herself to walk out into the parking garage, she felt her hands shake ever so slightly. Her stomach was fluttering and she almost couldn’t breathe.

Maxwell found himself watching the doors leading out into the parking garage intently, his eyes on his Geneva watch when they weren’t on the doors. Had she figured out it was him and was now refusing to come out for whatever reason? He started to pace a little, glaring at one of the other guys when they mentioned him being stood up. And somehow, during the distraction of that, he missed her slipping out into the parking garage, brown eyes darting around as if she was looking for someone.

The second Jessa saw a man in a brown ankle-length jacket, she knew exactly who it was. He didn’t have to turn around for her to know that it was MJF and just the thought had her heart pounding so loudly it almost blocked all other sound. Before she realized what she was doing, she was running to catch up to the man because he’d started to walk away, obviously giving up.

She caught up to him just before he reached his Range Rover and she grabbed his wrist gently, putting a stop to his walk. Before he could really even process what was happening, she was climbing him like a literal tree, her legs cinching his hips tight and making him stagger back slightly until he got himself steady. He growled into her mouth as her tits pressed into his chest and the eleven roses in his hand fell to the pavement as both hands gripped both sides of her ass, grinding her against him. He could feel her fingertips tugging at his hair and she smirked into the kiss.

“Ya know, you had me going half the night. But then it hit me a few minutes ago. Out of all the people on the roster, you’re the only one that even slightly made sense. I told you I’d figure it out.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t that maybe you were hoping it was me?” he couldn’t resist the remark and when she lightly swatted at his chest, he chuckled. “I mean.. I figured out you had a thing for me before you even really did?”

“I did not!”

“Are we seriously going to spend tonight arguing about this, woman? Just admit that on some level, I was right.” he nipped at her lower lip hungrily, fingertips digging deeper into her ass as he turned to the Range Rover and sat her on the hood, stepping between her legs. He bent down, retrieving the flowers and he held them up to her. “These are for you.”

Jessa slipped her legs around him again, pulling him closer as she leaned in, taking the flowers and passing them under her nose before putting them aside in order to pull him into an even deeper kiss while pouting.

“What’s wrong, princess?” MJF asked as soon as he felt her starting to pout.

“And now I feel like shit because all I got you was the chocolate balls and the protein bar and water.” Jessa deepened the kiss, threading her fingers along his scalp, making him laugh. “I got you. That’s what I wanted in the first place. To finally find a way to kind of show ya how I really feel.” he shrugged and she eyed him, biting her lip. “I never realized you were a romantic softie.”

“And that’s going to stay our secret, yeah?” he muttered against her lips breathlessly before breaking the kiss to ask the question, “So.. Where do you want to go?”

“Back to the hotel.” Jessa purred against his mouth, rubbing herself against him as best as she could.

[thatanonwiththeoc]

The Taste Of Coffee Ch. 1

A Lukagami fic. Read on AO3

I guess I’m cross posting on tumblr now lol

Part 2

Of all the places the universe could’ve landed her, it turned out to be here.

Staring her right in the face.

Kagami instantly recognized the boat in front of her. It was the Couffaine’s residence that she’d visited a few times before with Adrien, ever the same familiar clashing colors bearing into the eyes, screaming as loud as the music it played. Kagami sometimes wondered how they only got in trouble with the police once out of the many times they’d been playing on the deck. She could absolutely testify to how the music they played shook even her own inner being.

But anyways, that was irrelevant to the reason she was here in the first place.

After telling her closest (girl) friend that she’d taken an interest into playing guitar, Marinette brightened and almost instantly scratched down an address into her sketchbook. It was a wonder to Kagami how the paper still held intact by the violent way she ripped it out. Still, she’d be lying if the way Marinette winked at her didn’t send a sneaky suspicion through her.

‘This person’s a great teacher.’ Marinette beamed. A little too friendly and innocent even for Marinette, but she just chalked it up to not having much experience in the ‘friends’ department, ‘Plus, they’re pretty cute too if you’re into that.’

Kagami made sure to give her a good whack in the arm for that last comment.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she realized who would probably be teaching her. “Of course that’s what she meant by ‘cute’.” She said to herself.

However, she wasn’t one to be defeated by a little shyness. Or even the godforsaken emotion of hesitance. She asked for guitar lessons, and she was going to get it. No matter how painfully awkward it would’ve been if it was coming from her sort-of-ex’s new girlfriend’s old sort-of-ex. Kagami was on a mission, and she was determined to complete it.

Kagami knocked on the door. Three times, as she was taught to do since she was little.

It was a sort of bitter reminder of what her and Adrien was. Of course she was happy for Adrien and Marinette, she loved them both in her own unique way. But the sting of seeing him happy with someone else that wasn’t her still didn’t sit well with her even weeks after their relationship began.

Okay, it hurt a lot, but she’d be damned before she let either of them know that.

They deserved that much happiness, and Kagami wouldn’t dare intrude on that.

Her mother’s voice rang in her ears.

‘Second place is never a spot for us.’

Kagami shook her head, trying to forget about her mother for once. It definitely wasn’t what she needed to hear right about now.

Thankfully, reality came back to her when the door gave way to a familiar, friendly face.

“Hello.” Kagami greeted. She mentally ran through her to-do list on Social Interaction 101.

Luka shot her an easy-going smile that showed his teeth. Kagami had to admit, she was in a way, envious of how easy he held himself around others. Should she smile back? “Kagami! Come in, please.”

Discarding her previous thoughts, she instead decided to simply bow her head and avoid words altogether. Actions worked better for her than words anyway, they always came out more clipped and harsher than she intended it too.

As was expected from his proposal, she made her way inside to the common area of the ship-house. In her mind, a thousand different questions roared about how she should walk, how she should handle herself, when would be a good time to speak up or let him lead the conversation. It was a wonder how she even made it to the sofa in one piece. Kagami sat upright with perfect posture. It was probably the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Keep the legs together, and the hands on the lap. Perfect. She was going to make the most of this new path and relish in the glory of talking to people like a winner.

Luka leaned over the counter from across the room, as calm and hospitable as ever. “So, what brings you here onto my humble ship?”

Right, of course. Point of contact. Classic social connection basics.

“I’ve heard you teach guitar lessons.” Kagami stated, more than asked. “I was hoping that you’d teach me how to play.”

Luka chuckled lowly. “Funny you say that, actually.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Marinette convinced me to start teaching yesterday, as it would turn out. Consider it fate.”

Kagami coughed.

So Marinette put him up to his, huh?

She shook her head. What was her quirky friend up to?

“Everything okay?” Luka asked, and Kagami had to resist the urge to lose her composure right then and there. If not for her sake, then for the boy in front of her from across the room who was looking at her with a bit of worry in his eyes. Kagami held up a hand in front of her, straight up towards the ceiling. Ordered and proper, like she always knew herself to be.

“It’s fine.” She said. A little more dismissive than she meant it to be. “It’s just a coincidence, is all.” A really funny coincidence. In the broadest definition of the word.

“Alright then.” Luka turned around and opened a cupboard behind him, bringing Kagami back to attention. The wood squeaked a high note as he did so. “Do ya want some coffee? I’ve been learning how to make some.”

Kagami furrowed her eyebrows. From her experience, coffee was never really something she liked to begin with. The bitter taste it always left in her mouth made her want to gag sometimes. She’d much preferred a nice hot cup of tea over the brown bean juice any day. It was familiar, reminded her of her relatives distant in a land she hadn’t visited in a while. Green matcha was her favorite. Flavorful, yet still enough room for the senses to breathe.

Still, her mind flashed through the countless online articles she’d studied on how to make friends. Kagami could recall one in particular.

‘If you want to get to know a potential friend better, it might help to talk to them over a nice cup of coffee.’

Kagami conceded. Seemed like fate had different plans for her.

“Yes please.” She said.

“Great!” Luka chirped, already grabbing two round mugs. “How do you want it?”

Her mind blanked at the unexpected question. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t sure what to do. There was more than one type of coffee?

Thankfully, she was as quick as ever to come up with a quick answer.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, thank you.”

Ha! Operation: Converse with Luka is a go.

He seemed unphased. “Alright then. Two mochas, coming right up!”

At that, Luka got straight to work, pulling out a choice few instruments that Kagami couldn’t recognize at first. It was as if he was in his own world as he created their drinks, pacing to and fro between stations with a grace that she only saw in her own fencing. But it was slightly different, as if he didn’t have as much of a system, and more of a flow; a rhythm that no one could hear but himself. It was entrancing, in a way.

A short burst of hope bloomed in her chest when he made his way towards her with their finished drinks.

When he set them off the table, she was almost caught speechless. On the top of the mugs, there were illustrations of a brown and white heart, outlined by streaks that surrounded its outer edge. It was beautiful, really. How did he manage to create something like this using nothing but a bit of steamed milk? Must’ve been the dexterity that stemmed from being a skilled guitarist, she figured.

“It’s beautiful.” She commented. Her eyes were still fixated on the drinks before them.

“Thank you.” Luka smiled as he offered her one. She took it gracefully, and took a nice warm sip. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as face-scrunchingly strong like she expected it to be. It still had the richness of coffee that Adrien liked to rant to her about. She was made aware of that much thanks to him, but there was also a thick, blissful layer of sweetness that she didn’t know coffee was even capable of! What was his secret, the madman?

“Excuse me.” She asked. “This is really good. I’d like to know what you put in it, if you may.”

Luka laughed lightly and gave a small shrug, careful not to spill his drink. “I don’t know. It’s nowhere near as well as I’ve seen. I just used a little bit of pre-ground, chocolate syrup and some steamed milk on top.”

“But the hearts?” Kagami asked.

Pink suddenly dusted his cheeks, which she wasn’t expecting at all. Kagami was quite sure she’d never seen him flustered. Ever! “As for the hearts, well… it’s the only thing I know how to make when it comes to latte art, so you’ll have to excuse me for that-”

“It’s okay.” She interrupted, holding the mug close to her lip. “I like the hearts.”

“Oh.” He blinked, unsure of what to say. “Okay then.”

As Luka took another, longer sip of his coffee, Kagami had to resist the urge to jump out the window and into the Seine. What the heck did she even just say? And why so sudden? Damn her inability to talk properly like a normal person! Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this whole thing after all.

No, she told herself, this interaction could still be saved. The right opportunity just needed to come, and this time, she would make sure to cease the opportunity as soon as it arrived.

And it came when Luka spoke up again.

“Kagami, if I may so politely ask,” he said, as if trying to muster up all of the properness he could, “what made you want to learn guitar in the first place?”

Nope, forget that. She was just going to have to deflect that particular question.

Kagami cleared her throat awkwardly. “No reason.”

“C’mon, you and I both know that’s not true.” He teased, leaning on his fist as he propped an elbow onto the back rest of the couch. “Why does Kagami Tsurugi of all people want to learn the humble six-string?”

She mulled over her possible options to respond appropriately to the conversation. Maybe she’d just have to learn to roll with it if their future lessons were going to be anything like this. Was this a test? Hopefully, she’d pass with flying colors. That’d show him.

“I like how it brings people together.” Kagami stared at her cup of coffee, now half-finished. The slight swirl of it inside the mug reminding her of the ebb and flow of those around her that always seemed to elude herself. It was true what she said, she’d made it her mission to make more meaningful friendships ever since that fateful day she managed to become a friend to Marinette, of all people. She was amazing, in all senses of the word. She made her wonder exactly how much she was missing out on in the world. “I’ve seen how happy people are around Kitty Section, and it makes me want to try doing something similar.”

Not only that, but she also wanted to do something outside of her mother’s knowledge for once. Her heart ached for something novel, a new path that would reap some results that wasn’t from the request of her mother, but of her own initiative and being. Was that so wrong?

It wasn’t until Luka leaned in closer beside her that Kagami realized she was hunching in on herself and slowly leaning towards him. Since when did she lose her posture like that? She fixed her posture before she could do something stupid like talking about her feelings. There was a sudden distance between them that suddenly felt a bit empty to her.

“That’s really flattering of you, actually.” He tilted his head. “I’m honored to have been the one to inspire you to learn.”

Kagami raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really.” After setting his drink on the table, he pulled out an acoustic guitar from behind the couch. Since when was that there? “So, what are you interested in learning?”

“Isn’t that your job?” She quipped.

Luka started tuning the guitar, his eyes on the head while still listening to her. “True, but it helps to know what you like.”

Kagami hummed. “I’ve only ever been exposed to classical music.” That, and the fact that she’d never gone out of her way to develop a palette for the art medium. Not that she’d ever admit to it, though. She’d come to learn that normal people actually listened to music for fun and not to one up each other in an arms race to prove who had the better, more acquired taste.

Yeah, normal people were a bit different than what she was used to.

He whistled low. “That might take a while.” He said, strumming a chord. To her, it sounded fairly in tune but he proceeded to fiddle with the pegs anyway. “Classical pieces are a bit tricky.”

She straightened and held his gaze. “I’m more than willing to dedicate myself to it.”

“I definitely don’t doubt that.” Luka nodded, getting her point. “Alright then. It’s settled.”

He began playing absentmindedly and looked back at her, not even looking down at his hands. “What times work for you?”

At that, they were able to work out a time in their schedules for both of them that would work. A surprisingly easy feat, since it seemed that other than his part-time delivery job, his schedule was pretty much free. A bit of a contrast to her own weekly plans, but it wasn’t like she was going to voice her complaints. Kagami was eager to get as much practice done as soon as possible. She was going to learn this instrument. She was determined to.

“I’m glad we were able to get an arrangement down.” She set her coffee down and held out a hand, just like she’d read. Palm directly forward to the recipient, with her forearm coming up at a 45 degree angle. Luka eyed her hand, an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s a high-five.” She said, hoping he’d follow. “You see, you smack it with your own hand. A casual gesture to demonstrate our agreement.”

Luka nodded with an amused smile on his face. “I know what a high-five is.” He high-fived her hand with just enough force to emit the sound of a light smack. Good, they were able to seal the deal with a good natured high-five. Kagami dared thought she was getting pretty good at this ‘talking to people’ thing.

“I’ll see you next Saturday, then?” Luka placed his finished drink back on the table and stood up, all while towering over her. Kagami always wondered why the universe made her so small and short, when people like Luka seemed to be given the luck of the draw in that department. She just supposed she had to make do with what she got. Flexible, her mother would say. Flexible and adaptable.

“That’s the plan.” Standing up, she brushed down her blazer and skirt, trying to smooth down any wrinkles in the fabric before fixing her posture so she could try and at least look taller than she actually was. “Thank you for having me, but I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Luka put his hands on his hips. “You’re always welcome here, Kagami.”

Oh?

“Sorry, come again?”

“I said, you’re more than welcome down here on good ol’ Liberty.” He gestured to the room around them, and as if to illustrate his point, the boat rocked the slightest bit. “And besides, don’t worry about ‘overstaying your welcome’. There’s no debt among friends after all.”

Kagami felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest at the word. A warmth that she’d been hoping to chase for a while.

She lifted her chin up towards him in question. “As friends?”

Luka smiled warmly. “As friends.”

Kagami couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face.

Yes! They were friends now! To think, all she had to do was speak to him over a cup of coffee.

Kagami rummaged through her research to find an appropriate way to thank him. Any way to express her gratitude for his kindness.

One of them only sounded more appropriate, but it was a little sudden.

But then again, Kagami was never one to hesitate.

So, she stepped forward and raised her arms.

And wrapped them around his torso in a hug.

Hugs weren’t something Kagami was all that acquainted with. What with having the little friends she had, and a mother that didn’t give them at all, for that matter.

But now, she had to admit that hugging felt sort of nice.

It was made even better when Luka wrapped his arms around her head and pulled her in close. His own warmth enveloping her into a bliss that Kagami wanted more of. The smallest scent of denim tickled her nose, and for the first time in a while, she liked the silence of the room more than anything before. It wasn’t awkward, even though it should’ve been. Her own (failed) first kiss with Adrien was a hot mess that she wanted to completely forget about for even trying. But for some reason, Kagami could never imagine herself ever coming to regret hugging Luka.

Maybe this would run deeper than she thought.

Kagami pushed away, not expecting the sudden thought to arrive. The sudden heat in her cheeks were not a welcome addition, either.

She tried to fix her stance before walking out. “I-I should get going.”

What the hell was that? She never stuttered. Ever! That was Marinette’s thing!

“Wait!” Luka stopped her in her tracks. “Aren’t you going to finish your coffee?”

Kagami paused, unable to answer. The coffee was pretty nice actually, and it’d be a shame to decline the gift of her host.

He seemed to be able to read her expression, because he made his way towards the counter. “I’ll put it in a to-go cup for you.” The scent carried all the way through to her nose as he poured the coffee into a bright blue plastic mug. The same color as his hair. “Here, you can give it back on our first lesson.”

The kind, disarming smile he sent her was enough to make her heart clench. What game was he playing on her?

Kagami was fairly sure that the heat in her cheeks was about the same temperature as the drink in her hands, but she hoped that it didn’t mean whatever she thought it did. This was absolutely no time to be crushing on her new mentor. Nope, no way. That would be absolutely disastrous for her efforts in learning the new instrument. He’d just be another distraction, no matter how sweet he was.

A voice in her head piped up despite all of the orderly, logical reasoning that she’d been trained upon ever since she was an infant.

But would a new distraction be so bad if it came with something; someone new?

As she stood outside the boat, she gazed up at the blue, blue sky. It reminded her of new opportunities to come, more stories to be told, new events that fate was going to put into her hands, of opportunities that awaited her on the other side of whatever this new feeling was. It was similar to how she felt around Adrien, but new. New and different. It wasn’t the same, but different. In a good way, she felt.

Kagami looked down at the drink she held in both hands, close to her heart.

It was a promise.

She smiled.

Maybe she could learn to love the taste of coffee after all.

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Housemates (Mark)

Before I share another serious post, I’m introducing this short series of NCT members (particularly my biases) as Essie’s housemates. Like most of my writing, this is going to be fluffy and hilarious if you believe it to be. 

Fun fact is, Mark’s the first NCT member I wrote a story about. Should I post that here? Let me know! After all, I liked him in Super M first. Not that I don’t love the group anymore, but I am more in love with NCT than any other group now. 

Without further ado, please enjoy this feel-good piece and this adorable GIF of him!

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: I was inspired to write this because of this Instagram post. Most of the scenes here, and for the rest that will follow, are based on these scenarios. 

POV: 2nd person since this was written last year. 

Word count: 1,700 + words

Warning: Aside from the fluff, maybe there’s a teeny bit of angst with Johnny not relating to them. That’s about it! 

–––

Since you moved in with Johnny and Mark, your life has never been more exciting. Sure, living with Nini was nice and all, but there were more challenges living with two guys.

First, Mark was a messy guy in comparison to Johnny. The younger guy’s clothing can be seen everywhere in the house – a hoodie on a dining seat, a pair of shorts on the couch, and a t-shirt on top of the shower curtain.

However, it bothered you when he left his pants in your bedroom. “Mark Lee,” you started, “why did your pants end up here in my bedroom?” You held the pair of khakis in your hands and looked at it with disdain.

He gave you a sheepish grin before grabbing it from your hands. “I’m sorry, Essie noona, I thought this was my bedroom when I came here late at night yesterday. I was kind of drunk, so…”

You remembered that you slept over at Ten’s when you had to ask him for help on a project. Johnny was out of town, and Mark was the only one left in the apartment. You didn’t know that he ended up in your bed when you were out, and it made you blush.

“Make sure this doesn’t happen again, okay?” You softened your voice this time, and he nodded in response.

“I’m really sorry about this. How can I make it up to you?” Mark looked at you with puppy eyes and all your irritation on what he did vanish.

“Well, I suppose you can let me choose the movie we’re going to watch later tonight,” you said after carefully thinking of your answer.

“Sure, no problem! Would you like some coffee as well? My treat,” he flashed you a smile as he hung his pants over his shoulder.

“Johnny gets that for me usually, but since he’s not here, why not? You already know my order, right?”

“White Chocolate Mocha with low-fat milk and no whip.”

“That’s a good boy. Now,” you looked at him sternly again, “leave my room before I kick your butt!”

\\\

In the end, you decided to watch ‘A Serbian Film’. You were up for a horrible mindfuck, and Mark was hesitant on your pick.

“I mean, it’s okay if we watch a silly rom-com. I won’t mind at all,” He offered, scrolling through his Netflix account for a feel-good movie to watch.

“But aren’t you curious why it has a cult following, and why it’s banned?” You asked, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“Essie, don’t corrupt poor baby Mark,” Johnny chimed in, grabbing the DVD of the said film from your hands. He had just arrived from his trip and still had the energy to join you guys.

“What do you suggest we watch then?” You pouted, trying to get the DVD Johnny confiscated.

“How about ‘Benji’?” Mark’s suggestion got the taller guy squealing. “Oh my, let’s watch that! I haven’t watched a dog movie in ages!”

You noticed that Mark was laughing at his hyung’s reaction, which made you smile. His joy was contagious and later, you were laughing along. Johnny couldn’t stop gushing about dogs that eventually, you had to shut him up when Mark has already set up the television.

\\\

There were times Johnny can’t relate to you and Mark. For instance, both of you were almost in tears because of an inside joke only you and he have.

The three of you were eating dinner at home when a cucumber slice fell off your plate. This got Mark laughing, probably remembering the joke you two had about said vegetable one night ago.

You shot him a glare, but he didn’t see it. He kept on laughing until Johnny raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s so funny about a cucumber slice, Mark Lee?” You and Johnny tend to call the younger guy that whenever you berated him.

“Oh, nothing. Please, just ignore me,” He waved his hand to show that he was making a fuss out of nothing, but you weren’t buying it.

All of you continued eating in silence, but another cucumber slice fell off your plate again. “Essie, can you please look where your food is going?” Johnny sounded annoyed as he pointed his fork at the cucumber slice on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you mumbled, using your fork to get the vegetable. When you stabbed it too hard, Mark burst into laughter.

“Maaaark!” You and Johnny scolded, which the younger guy ignored. “But Essie noona!” he wheezed in between his laughter, pointing at the cucumber.

Eventually, you gave in and laughed as well. You had to admit, that was a pretty funny joke that you made.

Johnny groaned at the sight of you and Mark laughing your brains out. “If you don’t want to loop me in, then I’m going to excuse myself,” he said, quietly leaving the table.

You didn’t notice his absence as you and Mark continued to build upon your joke and laugh some more.

\\\

When you couldn’t sleep at night, you were grateful for their presence. Usually, Nini fell asleep on you while you blabbered about the existence of aliens or other conspiracy theories you watched on YouTube.

Now that you were living with the boys, they accompanied you on the couch with their preferred drink of choice – non-decaf coffee for Johnny and melon milk for Mark – and talked to you about anything.

However, there was a time that the older guy was the first to retire from your late-night talks. “I’m hitting the hay,” he said in between yawning. “Night, babies,” he patted Mark’s head while he pecked your cheek.

You resumed talking about crystal skulls as you and Mark curled in your respective corners of the sofa. You were animatedly discussing how they presumably came to be, and when he shared his opinion, you noticed that he also mimicked your hand gestures.

Before you knew it, the sun had already risen. Rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and you saw that Mark yawned.

“Well, let’s wrap this up,” you started to get up from the couch, “and go to sleep. All it took for you to yawn was the sun, eh?” You kid, making the younger guy chuckle.

“Thanks for spending some time with me, Marky.”

There was no sign of him getting up from the couch. “I’m too tired to get up now. I’ll sleep here,” he mumbled while grabbing one of the pillows beside him.

“Okay, I’ll go now,” you ruffled his hair before going back to your bedroom. “Sleep tight.”

\\\

“Dude, are you going to be there the whole day?”

You heard Johnny say from across your bedroom. You were reading a book, the door of your room slightly open when you heard one of your housemates talk in an exasperated manner.

No one responded. All you could hear was the loud sound of water coming from the shower.

“It’s been an hour already, Mark Lee!” Johnny was pounding on the door already. “I can’t hold it in anymore!”

“Hold up! I’m not yet done!” Mark finally spoke, making the older guy groan. “The other bathroom’s out of service, and I need to shit now!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how hilarious this conversation was going, and even stood up to peek how Johnny was doing. He was crouching on the door, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Please Mark, hurry up,” he murmured, rubbing his stomach.

“Mark, please, Johnny needs to use the bathroom right now,” you shouted, hoping that he will understand his hyung’s predicament. You rushed to Johnny’s side and rubbed his back, which he appreciated. “Thanks, baby, I hope it helps,” he whispered.

A few minutes later, Mark emerged from the bathroom, and Johnny pushed him aside immediately. This made the younger guy stumble, and you stepped aside so he doesn’t fall over you. He fell flat on his face, and he cried in pain. “Johnny hyung, that hurt!” He said, clutching his knee towards his chest. You helped him stand up, and you saw that his ears were all red.

You just helped Mark Lee stand up from a humiliating fall while wearing a towel around his waist.

“Thanks, Essie noona,” he mumbled. You nodded and patted him on the back. “Please try to lessen your shower hours if you can, okay? Unless the other bathroom’s fixed, then I won’t stop you.”

Your words inspired him to make the repairs to the other bathroom to be done as soon as possible as he had a hand in fixing it.

Looks like no one can stop him and his long-ass showers.

\\\

“How about this, Essie noona?” Mark asked, holding up an orange hoodie in front of you.

You were in his bedroom as he wanted your opinion on what he would wear to a blind date set up by Yuta.

“Isn’t that a bit too casual? Where is the date going to happen?” You looked at the hoodie again, which was oversized and had text printed on the sleeves.

“It’s going to be a casual one,” he said, eyeing the garment as well, “maybe at a park or a café? I don’t want to be too overdressed.”

“Get another one. It’s too loud. And why are you asking me this instead of Johnny?”

Mark grinned first before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I want to ask you for a change, noona. I want to know what kind of clothing girls like their men to wear on a first date…”

His comment made you smile since he thought that your opinion mattered. “To be honest Marky, it doesn’t matter. But if you want to leave a good impression, try dressing up a little bit. Maybe a short-sleeve shirt with a vest on top? That’s a bit dorky and cute, just like you.”

When you realized that you told him that he was both dorky and cute, you covered your mouth. You just hoped he didn’t hear it.

“Oh, that’s a great suggestion. Okay, I’ll go with that. Thanks!” He gave you a fist bump, which you returned enthusiastically. “Sure thing, little bro. Good luck on your date!”

You left Mark’s bedroom thinking about how you wish you can tag along, and see how his blind date will turn out.

Maybe you and Johnny can go undercover and spy on him? You rushed into the room beside you, hoping that he will agree with your plan.

–––

FIN

P.S. Plot twist: Yuta is Mark’s blind date! And what could be his inside joke with Essie about cucumbers?

[aloysiavirgata]

Korban

Title: Korban

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: Teen

Timeline: Post The Truth

Summary:   Mulder puts his arm around her, drawing her head against his shoulder. “So do, uh, do you really believe it all? The Virgin Birth, the Temptation in the Desert, the literal rising from the dead?”

*** The room has been theirs for over two months. It’s a cash-in-paper-envelopes sort of place, where the mattresses sag and the windows are made of scuffed plexiglass. They spent Valentine’s Day here, a half gallon of Moose Tracks ice cream and used condoms in the plastic wastebasket. He wonders sometimes if she’s actually afraid of another pregnancy, or if it’s just the last layer of herself she can hold back.

He doesn’t ask, acceptance being a gift he can give.

For her 39th birthday, Mulder had managed a Carvel cake and a small bottle of good lotion. He made mushroom ravioli for dinner, with a side of overcooked peas. He narrated his preparations in a Julia Child voice while they drank  wine from a screw-top bottle. They ate the cake with plastic sporks until it melted into sludge.

He sang Happy Birthday to her again and she laughed, but her eyes were too bright. They sat bundled under the comforter on the concrete patio for a long time, watching everything but each other. Trucks thundered down the highway towards the weigh station, carrying milk and oil and Japanese electronics. Scully stared at the stars until her eyes swam. She fell asleep with her head tipped back beneath them, and Mulder carried her to bed. They began her 40th year in the shower, pliant and frictionless in the wafting steam.

Early spring now, heaps of dirty slush melted back into deep reservoirs beneath the warming belly of the earth. There are feathery leaves unfurling from fresh mulch, and whipped cream blossoms on trees. Teenagers loiter in the parking lot, smoking and drinking malt liquor. They wander to and from the fire department carnival, slouchy and giggling in the lengthening evenings.

Inside, little changes. The upholstery on the couch is still rough and nubby, a sort of gray ropey material that Scully softens with thrift store blankets. They have their feet propped on the scarred oak coffee table, Scully’s toenails painted pink with dollar store polish. A bottle of Manischewitz Concord Grape sits in the middle of the table, uncapped. On the wood cabinet TV, Nefertiti is wearing turquoise gauze and Revlon lipstick and a technicolor Moses shakes his fist.

Scully spreads a tea towel across her lap, picking at the loose threads on it. Her hair is choppy with long sideswept bangs, the color of the waxy chocolate Easter bunny by her foot. Their eyes are the same arresting blue.

Beside her, Mulder is sunken deep into the cushions, leggy and scruffy with a flop of bangs and a three day beard. In his big hand, he spreads his matzah with ham salad that resembles chewed bubble gum. Scully bought it from the deli attached to the Exxon station, along with the coconut lamb cake that stares at them with blank licorice drop eyes. It smells like cheap sunblock, a hint of the coming summer.

“Stop judging me,” Mulder warns it, poking its jellybean nose. The lamb remains inscrutable in a nest of Easter grass.

Scully swats his hand. “Leave it alone.”

He scowls, takes a bite of his food. “Oh, Scully,” he says in dismay. “This is really disgusting.” He opens his mouth and lets the bright pink mass fall into a napkin. He chugs a plastic cup of water.

Scully takes a bite of her own food, cupping her hand to catch the matzah crumbs. “My mom always made it the day after Easter. It’s no different than tuna salad or chicken salad.”

“It’s very different,” Mulder asserts, decapitating a yellow Peep. “It tastes like exhaust fumes and looks like something you’d jam a scalpel into.”

She crams a piece in her mouth, chewing it inches from his face. She huffs her breath at him after she swallows.

Mulder wrinkles his nose. “You make confession with that mouth?”

She crosses herself. “Bless me Father, for I am living in sin with an infidel.”

“I’m fidel,” Mulder protests. “Just to different things.”

“I know,” she says, and nudges his foot with hers.

“…son of Amram and Yochebel,” intones Charleton Heston from the TV.

Mulder picks up the bottle of Manischewitz. “Shot,” he says, taking a swig from the bottle. He passes it to Scully who does the same.

“Now that is disgusting,” she says, wincing. “Communion wine is better than this.”

“Yeah, it’s not great. But your Catholic asses harassed my people every time we tried to settle anywhere for more than a century or so. That’s not a stable foundation for outstanding viticulture.”

Scully, buzzy and puckish, whispers, “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Too soon, Scully. Unless this is the lead in to a bondage fetish.”

“Don’t have my handcuffs anymore.” She picks up two forks from the table. “You wanna eat this lamb?”

Mulder regards it with mild disapproval. “At least Passover food has a reason for tasting like shit. Bread of affliction and so forth. But you’re celebrating the miracle of the Risen Lord with ham paste and sponge chickens. You need to get it together, Dana Katherine.”

“Well excuse me, but I don’t usually do my holiday shopping at a place where I can also get an oil change.” She stabs the lamb in the ear with her fork, removing a large chunk of it. She steers it towards Mulder’s mouth, making an airplane noise.

He takes an experimental bite, the gritty icing thick on his tongue. “This isn’t the worst,” he allows, chewing.

“Imagine my relief.” She eats the rest of the ear, a treat she usually lost to her siblings. The coconut is dense and chewy, full of sense memory.

Mulder puts his arm around her, drawing her head against his shoulder. “So do, uh, do you really believe it all? The Virgin Birth, the Temptation in the Desert, the literal rising from the dead?” He knows it’s an unfair question, knows her faith is raw and shaken these days, but he wants to understand. He longs to see the structure she does in the universe, the benevolent architecture of the grand design.

She sighs, burrowing in. Does she? Did she ever? “It’s complicated,” she tells them both.

He kisses her murky brown head. “I know.”

Scully pulls off the lamb’s nose, the same pink as her toenails. She turns it over in her fingers, frosting stuck to the smooth shell of it. She polishes it on the tea towel. “I believe in God. I believe that He acted through Christ to show us a better way to live. I believe that the stories about Christ, whether literal or allegorical, have value and purpose. I believe they can guide one through a meaningful life. So it almost doesn’t matter, in a way, how precisely they’ve been recounted.”

Mulder eats the jellybean from her fingers, tasting coconut and her tea tree lotion. “So like… the real Resurrection is the friends we made along the way?”

She slaps him lightly, laughing. “Something like that, yeah.”

He cups his hand around the sweep of her jaw, thumbs the tender spot behind her ear. She blushes. After all this time, still, she blushes. It moves him profoundly, re-confirms her as the center of his small orbit.

She smiles like the sun.

Across the room, in the tacky splendor of 1956, Moses is scowling at Pharaoh. His loyalties are torn between those that rescued him from that drifting cradle and those who put him into it. Mulder thinks of his own son, safe in a household of strangers, drawn from his basket of reeds.

He takes a long swallow of his wine, eats another piece of the lamb.

[artisticestheticreads]

Wishing

IThis is an one shot inspired by my last post. It is about Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens who goes back to Oakland after being in the Navy Seals and celebrates his 27th birthday at the local club, seeing something, more like someone, he likes. This contains angst and some light SMUT smut.

Friday, Feb. 9, 2016

    It was a chill night on the birthday boy’s birthday. He planned on staying and play 2K like he had been since he got back. He sat on his couch in a pair of black and red basketball shorts and and a white long sleeve shirt that covered his marks with gold rim glasses on. He grabbed his cup of ice cold Sparkletts water playing the game in one hand. He finally made a three pointer right when his phone rung; he paused the game and answered. “Yo, this E”. 

   “WASSSSSSSSSSSSSUP”, his friend, Jae, yelled making Erik laugh. “What up, my brutha”, he asked. “Aye, man. What we getting into tonight?” Erik chuckled and said “I ain’t gonna do shit. You already know how I am when it comes to my birthday. Nah, I’m good”. He all of a sudden heard a knock on the door; it was Jae when he opened it. “What the fuck you mean you ain’t gonna do shit? Its yo 27th birthday and they poppin at the club right now.” Erik folded his arms and said “first off, watch who you think you talking to and second I don’t feel like doing shit”. He flopped on the couch and looked through his phone. “Man, E. Yo ass tripping. Look at you. Sitting up here with yo PS and phone on hand tryna find some bitch to fuck when you can easily go out and get yo dick wet.” Erik rolled his eyes and kissed his teeth. He sat there thinking and finally stood. “Ight, man. Where we going?” 

“The Boom Boom Room”.

“Nigga, it sounds like it seems like cans of bounce that ass and unpaid child support. I’m good, ma g”, Erik said with a straight face walking to his bedroom. “No, there is some fine ass females and I KNOW yo ass love some black women, man.” Erik stopped and rolled his neck thinking ‘damn, they are my weakness’. He kept walking before he closed the bedroom door, he said “give me thirty minutes.” Jae clapped his hands in excitement and made his way downstairs. Erik had his dreads braided back with a fresh long sleeve black tee, dark blue jeans and leather combat boots on. He grabbed his phone, keys and wallet before locking up; they were on their way.

  Once they got in, it was actually a nice setting. Red lightening, huge bar and matching dance floor with Future’s Low Life playing. Erik looked around at all the women around; brown, light, caramel galore. He looked to the bar, at Jae then motioned for them to make their way. He strolled through the crowd passing through all the beautiful women and smiled to himself. I can get used to this, he thought. “Let me get a Jack and Coke on the Rocks” he asked the male bartender; he nodded and started to make the drink. Jae ordered the same and placed his debit card down opening a tab. 

    “Thanks, man”, Erik said and patted his friend’s back. “Aight, aight. I gotta request to play this for Trisha from her secret admirer. This Bryson Tiller with..” The DJ played Don’t and before you know so many women were singing off key that made E and J laugh. E got his drink and began sipping when he looked over into the crowd and saw a brown skin woman with maroon shade box braids down to her behind in a nice white tube top matching skirt and white go go boots that made her short curvy frame, tall and appealing. She was swaying her hips to the beat while lip syncing the lyrics.

“Girl, said he keeps on playing games And his loving ain't the same I don’t know what to say-ay but What a shame If you were mine you would not get the same If you were mine you would top everything Suicide in the drop switching lanes And that thang so fire baby no propane Got good pussy girl can I be framed To keep it 100 girl I ain't no saint But he the only reason that I'm feeling this way Giving you the world baby when you get space Playin' game get me laid, baby let's penetrate oh baby.”

   Erik raised his brow slowly as he sipped from his cup and with half a smirk watching her carefully. The way she moved was like a magician which a watch dangling in front of him, hypnotizing him. When she turned, all he heard was “Y/N Y/L/N, get yo cute ass over her girl.!” She smiled, excused herself from her large group of friends and made her way to the men. She reached them and said “waddup, Jae. How you been, baby boy?” She gave him a big and he said “aw, y’know me. Trynna keep my ass outta trouble and what not. Who told you ass to look like a nice cup of chocolate milk, huh?”

“Bwoy, bye. I look good as hell. I got so many niggas in here approaching me and shit, it ain’t even funny.”

   Jae looked over at Erik and can tell he was in LaLa Land mentally drooling. “Aye, guess who back.” She looked at the man Jae was pointing at and asked “E? It can’t be.” Her smile warmed him up and he said “wassup.” She gave him a big hug with her arms around his torso and he placed his cup down on the counter. He placed his hand on her lower back and said “damn, a lot has changed, huh kid?” The last time they saw each other, it was their high school graduation. She went off to school in New Orleans where her father is from and he went to MIT, far away. She had a retainer in, with her natural hair slicked back in a ponytail and all. She was a little small thing but her woman curves came in. Back then, they were close friends, first kiss and also first sexual experience, ever. 

   Y/N rubbed her hands on his back and took in his cologne before adding distance between them. “How you been”, she asked with her hands behind her. “Been aight. What about you, love?”

“Been here and there. Just trying to save the world and all.”

   Jae added “yeah, Miss L/N been kicking ass at her firm sending all those cops to prison for life”. She dusted her shoulders off and said “I know they deserve it but its not gonna bring back all those people that lost their life for be ‘while black’. We lose our lives every day and some in other places end up getting away with because they ass wear a shiny badge. Nah. Not while my ass is around.” Erik smiled and nodded thinking how she was still the smart bad ass the he fell in lo-”

    “Y/N”, a male’s voice said coming towards them. He wore a turtleneck with black slacks and dress shoes with a light skin complexion. Jae said “aw shit. Here he come” in a whisper as he sipped more from his cup. “Who that”, Erik asked, she looked to him and said “my fiance”. He mentally was taken back but nodded in real life. “Hey, baby”, her man said and looked at the fellas. Y/N looked away and rolled her eyes. “Donald, this is Erik Stevens.” Donald looked to him with his right hand out and said “nice to meet you, brotha.” 

“You too, man” E shook his hand then looked at her. Donald looked at Jae with a stern look. “What up, Jae?” Jae looked away and said “Sup, nigga.” Donald chuckled and asked the bartender “lemme get a round for my lady’s bachelorette party”. Erik looked down at her confused and shook his head. Donald looked at her and said “I’ll be waiting for you at the table. Don’t take too long, baby girl.” Y/N looked up to him and nodded as he placed a kiss to her lips and made his way to the group. “What kinda nigga shoes to his girl’s bachelorette party”, Jae asked and Y/N folded her arms and looked around. “An insecure ass nigga”, Erik said with a straight face looking at her. She looked at him and half smirked. “Let us buy you a drink and let that nigga wait” E said. She smiled and ordered a Jack and Coke on the rocks. 

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

    The club was jumping and Erik, along with Y/N was feeling just right dancing a rapping along to some throwback music as the lightening got darker. “So what up with that nigga? He ain’t yo type at all, ma?” She shrugged, running her fingers through her braids. “We met my third year at school and I guess we hit  it off.” Erik spun her in a circle, holding her close. “Y/N L/N, you telling me you in love with this nigga”, he pulled her body into his and spoke in her ear; she nodded. “Nah, I need to hear it.” 

“I love him”, she said but Erik chuckled adding vibration to her back. “Aight, girl. Yo ass lying like a muthafucka and I can tell.” He wrapped his arm around her waist as the beat to Wishing by DJ Drama plays. Erik pelvis began to grind against her and he swore she can hear a light moan from her. He got in her ear and began saying the lyrics.

“Baby you know who I am and girl I know just who you are We ain't gotta rush into shit 'cause being in love is too hard I'm tired of all these flashing lights, girl we should just fuck in the dark Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah yeah yeah Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga.”

    She lied her head back on his shoulder blushing slightly. Erik smiled down at her then to the table where Donald sat at alone; that’s when he got the idea. He took her hand and made their way into the ladies bathroom. “E, what are we doing in here?” He looked down at her and said nothing. She waved her hand in front of his face and he grabbed it pulling her whole body close to him. “Y/N, tell me you’re in love with him” he said as he sat her on the counter with her legs apart and him standing between them. “E, I”. She looked in his eyes as she felt his hands on her thighs. “What? What was you gonna say, baby girl?” His hands went up her thighs, pulling her closer as they were chest to chest. “Erik, I am.” Erik shook his head, laughing and she asked “what so funny, huh? What? You don’t believe me? You left me here alone for so long. You was my best friend, Erik. And you know that shit.” He stood back and said “you think I had a fucking choice, Y/N? I got accepted to the best school for me and I became a fucking Navy Seal. The fuck was I supposed to? Stay here?”

    Y/N looked at him and folded her arms getting off the counter. She started to remember when he left, no kiss, not thing. She wanted to be with him but he pushed her aside. Ignoring her. She felt neglected and hurt. She had to get over him because if she didn’t...boy oh boy. “FUCK YOU, ERIK!!! YOU LEFT ME ALONE KNOWING I WANTED TO BE WITH YO DUMB ASS!!!!! I WANTED YOU SO FUCKING BAD BUT YOU PUSHED ME AWAY. I WAITED FOR YOU AND HERE I AM THINKING YOU WOULD AT LEAST GIVE A BITCH A CALL BUT NO!!! NOT A FUCKING THING. I WAS NOT AND I MEAN ABSOLUTELY WAS NOT GONNA WAIT FOR YOU.” She pushed him off and made her way to the door but he used his strong arm to push it closed looking at her. He stood there frozen. Only his eyes moved up and down at her frame then he slowly walked close to her but she stayed in place.

    He looked down at her and asked “fuck me? Nah, don’t say that shit because you don’t mean it, ma. You think I didn’t wanna stay. We both know for sure if I did, I would end up dead in the fuckin’ streets. Is that what you wanted for me? Dead?” She got quiet like he thought he would. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, Ima be 100. I love you, girl. But you know what I’ve been through. Everyone I loved left me. I didn’t want you to be the next one. But I guess it’s too late.” She looked to the ground and he got the message so he walked away. “E”, she said his name and he turned saying “what’s up”. He turned to see her looking at her with black lingerie panties in her hand. 

   “Show me how much you love then”, she said and he marched to her saying “yes, ma’am.” He lifted her body up and placed her back on the counter. He dug in his wallet, grabbed a condom placing it on and stroked himself looking at her. He slid inside her slowly and was amazed on how wet she was. “Damn, you tight as fuck. Either, you ain’t fucked since we did or that nigga ain’t hitting it right.” She smiled while she moaned and moved her hips to match his thrusts. “Fuck, Erik. I missed you so much”, she said holding onto his wrists. He kissed her ankle and said “I missed you too baby.” He picked her up and started to hold her thigh as she bounced down on him multiple times (^like in the gif above^). They looked into each others and started to think about their first time together. They remembered how it was to feel each other for the first time. They realized they needed each other more than anything. 

   The moment was so intense and passionate that they almost missed the door knob turning. Erik made his way into the stall and Y/N sat on his lap still; her back to him and still clenching his dick with her walls. “Y/N, you in here”, her friend asked. She looked back at Erik, cleared her throat and said “yeah, I’m fine. I’ll-I’ll be out in a minute.” She began bouncing again slowly making Erik’s head lie on her back and biting at her back with his grill. She smiled and her friend said “okay, well Donnie looking for you.” Y/N said “k” to dismiss her friend. Once they heard the door, she pulled her skirt up more and Erik pulled her top down to feel her breasts and hard nipples. “E, Ima come. Oh My God”.

“I know, baby. I can feel that shit. I’m almost there,” he groaned and whispered into her ear. She can feel her cream coat his member and held him closer. “I love you, Erik. Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Damn, girl.”

    They moved together as one and then h held her closer while she soaked both of them; afterwards he came into the condom. They sat for a few, catching their breath and laughing.  He got up with both of them and remove the condom discarding it in the trash. “E, I really did miss you.” 

    “I’m here now, baby girl. And I ain’t going no where, aight? I swear.” He washed his hands and stroked her chin before placing his lips on hers. He fixed her up as she giggled, situated himself and took her number into his phone. She looked around and when she bent down to grab her undies, E held them in his hand. “Nah, ima keep these. When did you stop wearing granny panties?” She smacked his chest and they both laughed when they approached the door but soon the smiles were gone when they saw Donald and her friends standing there with Jae smiling big at them. Jae said “daaaaaamn, y’all was going at it. All I heard was cheeks clapping and shit.” Erik kept his eyes on Donald as Y/N asked “what’s up?” Donald folded his arms and said “a little birdie told me that you ran off for a little session.” She looked back at her so called friend and played flicking her off looking like she was scratching her face. 

    “So you love him, right? So who is gonna be? A hood nigga that left you over his own selfishness or a real man that was there for you?” 

“The fuck you just called me”, Erik getting into his face. “I bet you won’t say that shit again.” Donald was about to push him when Y/N got in the middle. Erik looked him in the eye with an evil smirk and asked “so, who is it going to be baby girl?”

“Yeah, who”, Donald asked looking at Erik as well.

  She held their chests still and looked in between them. For some reason, she was stuck, frozen. She closed her eyes and said “I choose...” She looked at Donald then at Erik, took a deep breath and ....

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies

[unholyhelbig]

Prompt: After being dragged to a carnival by her friends Emily and Jesse, and later dragged to a "real" seer that can reveal your "one true love." It's been revealed that Beca's one true love happens to be a legendary evil/dark being (a person you ship Beca with). Beca thinks its bullish*t, but strange things have been happening ever since the reveal of her supposed one true love. Question now is, will Beca try to escape her fate or embrace it?

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[A/N: anyone up for a part two?? also, sorry I haven’t been posting. Things are… busy.] 

Beca kicked the toe of her sneaker into the loosedirt lot. She could practically taste the earth as it mixed with freshly poppedcorn and dripping batter topped with powdered sugar. The scent coated her lungsand as her stomach clenched in hunger, she thought, maybe this wouldn’t be sobad.

Thelights were mesmerizing: twinkling against reflective signs advertising simplering toss games that would win cheap stuffed animals. She wouldn’t admit thatshe wanted the purple tiger. There were greasy carnies that leaned heavilyagainst bar stools that had the leather casing stripped off. They shoutedthings at people walking by- step rightup, if you have what it takes! Think you can win the big prize? Why don’t youtest your luck! Hey shorty, want to test yer’ strength?

Becahad glared at the last guy and he shut right up.

Jessestuck the tip of his tongue out in concentration as he cocked his head andclosed one eye completely. He tossed another ping pong ball and it bouncedright off the water filled milk jugs with a clank. Beca cringed and Emily letout a heavy sigh.

“Toobad, Kid.” The Carney sneered, palming the little white ball. “That was yourlast shot.”

Hefrowned at the swimming fish that tapped against the jars and dug in his jeanspockets for another five dollars. Beca wanted to stop him, maybe tell him thatthese things were rigged and if Emily really wanted a fish this bad, she couldgo to the superstore in the center of town and get a 25-cent goldfish.

“Giveme three more balls.”

“I’mnot even sure if you have two.”

“Whatdid you say?”

Becagrasped at his flannel and kept him from hopping over the counter as Emily letout a small grunt in response, pushing the boy away from the small little boothand the grinning high school dropout. “Alright, buddy, think you’ve had enoughof that game.” Emily said, “Not that important.”

“Yeah,dude, I don’t think Em can take care of a fish anyway. You remember hercactus?”  

Emilytook a moment to look offended. “Excuse me, I took very good care of Oscar.”

Jessesnorted and let the tension fall away from his body. They had pushed him farenough away from the stupid little game that he seemed to move onto somethingelse, like the intoxicating scent of carnival food and the set of parents bythe picnic table that struggled to wipe the dripping chocolate from theirchildren’s chin. It was too late to have them out like this, but Beca couldn’thelp and warm at the twinkle in their eyes.

“Yeah,until you overwatered it.”

“he looked thirsty.”

Becatuned the rest of the argument between her friends out and shoved her handsinto her pockets. Her fingers were cold and felt almost numb. She could neverwarm them. The colors of the Ferris Wheel reflected across the food cars andthe metal casing on the boat ride. It went up and down and the metal screeched,probably cold itself.

Shesquinted against the edge of tents, through the screaming kids and exhaustedparents. There was a tent, something small compared to the others. Somethingdarker. It was a deep violet instead of the standard pinstriped red and white. Itsflaps were closed, zipped even, and a neon light up sign of a crystal ball wasbuzzing like incessant mosquitos hovering against stagnant water. Find your one true love. It read in alurid green.  

“Ohno, we’ve lost her.”

“I’mjust happy we got this far.”

Becablinked a few times and glared at her friends. They were both stocky andawkward. Jesse’s features were shaded in a deep blue and red each time a newlight cycle moved across the Ferris Wheel, and Emily still peered over at thelittle goldfish that swan in glass jars, turning her attention to Beca.

“No-I just… That place looks interesting.” She lifted her chin towards the littlepurple tent.

“Theone thing that doesn’t have a line?” Jesse said.

“No,no, I like that about it. I think we should check it out. You go get us funnelcake.”

Jessesputtered out something for a few seconds before his own hunger got the best ofhim. The scent of freshly fried dough had won his inner battle and he salutedat Emily before trudging off to stand at the end of a long line. Beca bit hertongue and decided against asking for a diet lemonade. Emily pulled her closeand Beca let out a small grunt. “Let’s go get our palms read, shall we?”  

Becawas beginning to regret even making the suggestion as they wandered closer tothe violet tent. And Jesse did make a point, it was the only place in this whole entire carnival that didn’t’ havea line, or even a single soul waiting to see what was behind the sheet offabric. She dragged her feet in the dirt and stilled herself as they stood infront of the opening.

“Youfirst, dude.”

“Noway,” Emily whispered back harshly “This was your idea. Not like they’re goingto tell you that you’re going to die or anything.”

“Ididn’t think they were going to until just now.” Beca bit back, but she steppedinside of the dark tent regardless. She was overtaken immediately by the scentof roses, a dark coolness combating the mid-summer heat. It wasn’t like the othertents. There were only two lights, one hanging from the very center as it swungback and forth, the other situated against the fabric of a table. Beca wasexpecting to see a crystal ball or something. Not just a fold out surface witha patterned cloth over it. The place was empty.

“Oh,they’re not home.” Beca mumbled, “It’s not meant to be.”  

Shefelt Emily dig her elbow into her ribs and it kept her from taking a stepbackward. She breathed in another heaping of flowery air before letting hershoulders drop as she glanced towards the table. “Hello?”

Afew beats of silence. “Okay, maybe you’re right. This place seems empty. Nowonder there wasn’t a line-“

“Peopletend not to appreciate my services.”

Becalet out a gasp, while Emily stifled her own screech of fear by pushing herfingers against her lips and stumbling into the center of the room that thetent harvested. Beca instinctively shot her hand out in front of Emily,stiffening her own stance as she took in the stranger.

Hereyes were limey green, illuminated in the lantern that sat on the table, herhair such a jet black that it nearly blended in with the surroundings. She wasdressed casually, as casually as a circus-like this would allow. The womanreminded Beca of a cat, her stare close to half moons as she forced a toothysmile. Her canines were pointed, and it gave Beca chills.

“I’mScarlet, I’m a seer.”

“Oh,”Emily cautiously let her shoulders relax “I’m Emily, and this is Beca. But I’msure you already knew that.”

Scarletchuckled and the sound made her seem less intimidating. It released the tensionin the air “That’s not quite how it works. It’s nice to meet the both of you.Please, sit.”

Becagave Emily an apprehensive look before the three of them settled around thesmall rounded table. That floral scent was ever encompassing now, but it wassoothing. She was sitting up straight in the uncomfortable chairs, none of themmatching the surface in front of them. She sat in one that had peeling yellowpaint, letting her hands rest in front of her.

“You’renot very open to this, are you, Beca?”

Shewondered if it was her stance, or maybe the way her eyes were darkened thesecond they made contact with scarlets. Either way, her skin buzzed with theheat of the carnival and she was pretty sure she could smell her own sweat. Thequestion rubbed her the wrong way.

“No,I just don’t know what any of this is.” She adjusted her stance, lessening theharshness of her voice when Emily snapped her eyes towards her. “Sorry, I just-this is kind of insane.”

Scarletchuckled softly, reaching her hand forward and curling her fingers a few timesas if begging for Beca’s own touch. It was what she did, and the older girlrelented as she finally trusted her enough to grasp it.  It was cold compared to the sticky air.

“I’mnot going to tell you you’re going to die or anything, it doesn’t work likethat. I won’t tell you anything you’re not ready to hear.”

Emilynudged her shoulder. “That’s reassuring, right Bec’s?”

Shewouldn’t quite use reassuring as the word. Comforting, maybe, but not enough toquell the uneasy feeling in her stomach. Still, she saw the way the pretty youngwoman flexed her fingers, waiting for Beca to grasp it. She breathed in the incense and finally did.

Thewoman tensed up in a way that made Beca’s stomach drop even more than it had inthe first place. Scarlet’s touch reminded her of the way her doctor used to wrapthat rubber band around her upper arm and tap a vein. It would pinch againsther skin and the painted black nails of the seer did the exact same.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Becacast a paled look at Emily who simply shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.Maybe this was apart of the theatrics. The reason people tended not to visit a psychicin the middle of a fun fair. Her grasp tightened a little more before shescooted closer to the table, her face contorted into a frown.

“What?What is it?” Emily burst at the seams.

“There’ssomeone in your future. Someone dark and powerful.”

“Like…a businesswoman?” Beca asked carefully.

“Likea queen.”

Shecouldn’t’ help the scoff that moved past her lips. This was the 80’s. As far asshe was concerned, the closest queen was hundreds of miles and an ocean away. Certainly,nowhere near her future. This was a load of chalked up stories, notecards that Scarletprobably kept taped under the table, hidden by a sequin table cloth.

“Beca,listen to me.” Her eyes were suddenly open, emerald and sparkling. She had pulledthe girl closer and the wicked smile on her face was wiped away. She could smellthe pungent odor of her breath, feel it on her cool cheek. “This is no joke. Whenyou meet this woman- you mustn’t let her take control of your soul. Not the onepart of light that you have left. No matter how captivating, how innocent she mayappear- do not let her in. It could destroy us all!”

“Oookay,”She drew out the word after a long round of silence. She took her hands back inthe gentlest way possible, as not to offend the woman. “Thank you for that. Whatever that was. But we should be going. I’m sure our friend is worriedabout us”  

Becadidn’t wait for Emily to get her reading, because the open tent was suddenlyfeeling very claustrophobic. Instead, she let the chair scrape against theloose dirt, scrambling for the flap in place of the door. Emily digging throughher bag for some type of compensation before she burst into the open space ofthe fair.

Itwas dark.

TheFerris Wheel had stopped turning, it’s lights shut off completely, loomingstructure shaking as the wind howled, cold and unforgiving. The stands had shutoff their own lights, the scent of greasy food still there, but barely. Litterfloated around in the breeze and the music had given way to crickets and bullfrogs singing their symphony.

“Beca,I am so sorr-“Emily ran straight into her, the air knocking from her lungs asshe cut off her own speech. “What the hell? I swear we weren’t I there for morethan a few minutes.”

Sheglanced around, the moonlight stark and jarring compared to how lively it was oncewas a few moments ago. She stiffened herself. “We should get back to the car. LetJesse know that we made it home.”

Emilyswallowed dryly but quickly agreed as she shoved her hands in her pockets. Becawas careful not to step in any trash, forgotten paper plates, and Styrofoam cups.It gave her some type of odd comfort- knowing that there was, in fact, some lifehere before. Emily walked closer than before but Beca didn’t’ mind. Not whenthe world felt like this: Empty and desolate.

“Whatshe said back there… I’m sorry. I thought it would be fun.”  

“Aboutan evil queen popping up in my life? Please, Em, that was fun. You don’t reallybelieve that stuff, do you?”

“Well,you’ve got to admit, the world is too black and white to not have a little grayaround the edges.”

Becascoffed for what seemed to be the second time tonight, maybe even the third.Emily had that childlike wonder in her eyes, even as they walked to the dirtpacked parking lot. Her crimson red firebird was the only thing in the stretchof land. They both drew in simultaneous breaths.

“Whatare you two doing out here?”

Emilystiffened and Beca tightened her grasp around her keys, not turning around, notyet. That voice was a dark and low purr. Something that made her blood flickerwith ice and it wasn’t just the roaching cold. Soft but something completely incontrol.

Shewas short compared to Emily, but everyone was. Her shoulders drawn back and acrew shirt hugging her into the darkness. The girl’s eyes were a crisp bluelike freshly frozen over ice. Waves that broke apart the sheets and created anelectric current. She had a smile that was close to demon-like, even in the hissinglight of the above lamp post. Beca didn’t’ even realize it was buzzing untilnow. Like the second stage of a plague. She had a toothpick shoved between herlips.

“Sorry,we uh- we were caught up in that psychic tent over there.” Beca made a generalmotion towards where they had just come from. “We didn’t’ realize how late itwas. We’re leaving now, though.”

“Yeah?Madame Scarlet right?” The strangers’ voice became somewhat comical as she wavedher hands in the air and scrunched her face up. “First time I met her she saidI would get a dog, well- find one on the railroad tracks.”

“Didyou ever?” Emily asked, piping up. “Find a dog, I mean.”

“No,I’m afraid not. Shockingly enough, I don’t wander around tracks in towns I don’tknow.” She smiled broadly at that, working her hand through locks of fire-filledcurls. It looked almost effortless. The girl moved the toothpick from hermouth. “Anyway, you two be safe. Don’t cheat on Scarlet with any other psychic’salright?”

“Nopromises,” Beca found herself saying, running her thumb against the edge of herkey, but loosening her grip. The girl raked her electric blues up and down herbody, taking in the chills that wracked her body, but she could easily blamethat on the cold. “have a good night.”

“Youtoo.” She placed the toothpick back between her lips, narrowing her eyes beforeturning on her heels and walking back towards the direction she came. Becawatched her every move before she cleared her throat and turned towards her car.

“Whatthe hell was that?”

[hymn2000]

Father’s Day Pride - MCU AU mini-fic

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson AU. 

Father’s Day is coming up, and Peter is stuck on what to get Tony and Loki. 

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, father’s day, LGBT+ themes, over-protective Tony, (Loki is mentioned but isn’t actually in this)

Word count: 4101

You can also find me on AO3

-

Peter was exhausted. He’d been trawling around for hours, looking in shop after shop, venturing into parts of town he’d never been before, feeling lost and tired. Father’s day was coming up, and he was stuck. His friends hadn’t been much help at all. They all came from nuclear families, and their suggestions were; ‘anything with Number One Dad written on it’, and ‘just get them something they like’. Malaki had been especially unhelpful, because he said he never got his father anything for father’s day, and he said Peter shouldn’t bother, because what exactly did he suppose he could get for a billionaire who had everything they could possibly want already, to which Peter had poured a cup of water over his head and stalked off. 

Peter stopped outside a shop. It was a bookshop, but not one he remembered seeing before. It had rainbow flags flying outside, and he could tell by the displays in the window that he was exactly the target market. It looked old, and dusty, but it looked like it was open. He paused, and then pushed the door open. The bell above the door rang as he did so. He let the door close behind him. It felt empty, like he was the only person there. The shop smelt of old books and coffee. It was a funny place, with books in higgledy-piggledy piles on tables beside shelves, and old gay posters blu-tacked to the walls. There wasn’t just books: there was gifts and nick-nacks and bits and bobs all over the place. He could hear the whirring of an industrial coffee machine coming from above him. 

“Hey kid, you ok there?”

Peter jumped violently. He hadn’t noticed the older man behind the desk, watching him.

“Oh, um...”

“You look thirsty, and tired” the man said. “Stairs to the coffee shop are over there, just past the blue shelf”

“Oh, thank you”

Peter found the stairs and went up to the coffee shop, mostly because it was less awkward than trying to explain he wasn’t there for coffee, or just leaving. The upstairs coffee shop was much more modern looking and sleek, although quite interestingly decorated. There were a handful of people up there, and a couple of people behind the counter. One was an incredibly fierce looking drag queen, who waved her manicured nails at him when he appeared.

“Hey baby, you lost, sweetie?” 

“No, um, I just- uh..”

She laughed at him. “What can I get you, honey?”

“Um...” Peter approached the counter, too nervous of the drag queen to focus properly on the menu. “C-can I get a cappuccino please?”

“Sure thing, honey” She nodded at her colleague, and leant against the counter while they were making the drink. “You’re tiny, aren’t you? How old are you, baby?”

“I- uh, I’m fifteen. How old are you?”

The drag queen laughed. “A lady never tells. $2.50, please”

“Oh yeah, sorry” Peter handed over the money.

“Take a seat, baby; we’ll bring it over”

Peter was grateful for the excuse to leave the counter. He took an empty table over by the window, so he could people-watch. The drag queen soon brought his drink over, and he was surprised when she sat down opposite him. 

“What brings you here, baby? You’re looking tired. Fall out with the parents?”

“What?”

“Have they only just found out, is that it?”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that!” Peter said defensively. “I just kinda stumbled across this place. I’ve been out - out in town, I mean - for a while. And out in the other way as well, kinda, but, well. I- Uh. I didn’t know this place was here until just now. I’ve been looking in loads of shops today”

“Retail therapy?”

“Not really. I’m trying to find something for father’s day, but... Well, I’m a bit stuck. I can’t really do the whole generic Number One Dad mug thing, because I’ve got two dads”

“Aww baby. Tell me about them: maybe I can help”

Peter pressed his lips together.

“What’s up? Stranger danger?” she smiled a big lipsticky smile. Peter wasn’t sure if she was teasing him or not. “Most people call me Auntie. I’ve been a barista right out of high school, I work here during the day three days a week, and I work at some local bars as a performer two or three nights a week, depending on how in demand I am. I’ve been doing drag for about fifteen years now. There, now you know me, so you don’t have to be scared. So what’s your name, baby?”

“Peter”

“Peter what?”

“Peter... Parker. Parker-Stark”

Auntie’s eyes widened for a moment. “Ah, I thought you looked familiar! So you’re Tony Stark’s kid?”

Peter nodded. 

“So, daddies a mechanic, and other daddy is a nurse. Shame you’re not one of them; I’d be better able to help that way”

Peter wrinkled his nose at her suggestive comment. She laughed.

“Aw baby, you can’t expect people not to have inappropriate thoughts about an ex-playboy and someone as pretty as Loki Stark”

“Ok, but you don’t have to make it known” Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Auntie grinned. “Sorry, baby. So, Father’s day. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been real basic in the past, just cards, and chocolate for daddy Loki, and coffee for other daddy”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Daddy’ is it?”

Peter felt the blood rush to his face. “What? I’m adorable! Leave me alone”

Auntie laughed, pushing his coffee closer towards him. “Have your milk, baby”

Peter scowled, but he picked up his mug and took a mouthful anyway. He looked at Auntie over the rim of his mug. She was incredibly well made up, with perfectly teased strawberry blonde hair (definitely a wig, Peter thought), bright red lipstick, and gold eye shadow. She had fierce eyeliner wings, and her tight dress showed an awful lot of fake cleavage.

“My eyes are up here, honey” Auntie said, seeing him looking at her chest.

“Sorry. How do you make it look so real?”

“They’re flesh tone silicone, and you just use make up to get it to blend in. Add in a good bra, and you’re set to go” she leant closer to him. “Thinking of getting involved?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s not my sort of thing. I- uh, I don’t think I’d be any good at it”

“I don’t know, I think you could make a cute girly drag queen. I can imagine you with a bow in your hair, winged eyeliner, bit of blusher, pink lipstick, cute little dungaree dress - worn off the shoulder, of course”

Peter giggled. “I’m not sure about that”

“Hey, dungarees are cute! I bet you could rock them even without the slap. Doesn’t have to be a dress; you could get ordinary ones. Long trousers, maybe black denim? Or light blue”

“I’ll think about it” 

Auntie smiled. “So, what do we get for the Stark daddies for father’s day?”

Peter shrugged. “I’ve got no idea. I asked some friends, but they were useless. I looked at a load of Buzzfeed posts, but they’re all things for stereotypical dad’s. I don’t think mine would appreciate beer making kits and beard grooming sets”

“Really?”

“Well, daddy kinda has a very specific brand he uses, and a specific supplier, and I’ve never even seen other daddy with so much as stubble” 

“Hmm. How about just being a bit basic and giving them something with a personal touch?”

“Personal how?”

“Well, there’s lots of things. Hmm. Ah, have you got your phone with you?”

Peter unlocked it and handed it over. Auntie took it, flicking to the next screen. She paused.

“Wait, before I click on your camera roll, there’s no nudes on here, is there?”

Peter blushed furiously. “No, of course not!”

“Hey, I just want to be safe” Auntie shrugged, clicking on his camera roll and flicking through some of the photos. “You’ve got some pretty cute pictures on here. I’m guessing your friends took some of these?”

Peter nodded. “Flo likes taking photos of me. She’s good at candid shots”

“How about getting one of these framed or printed onto a canvas for them?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to get them something special”

“That is special. Your parents love you, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“But what? Baby, they love you, and they’d love this, believe me”

Peter still wasn’t sure. “But what if they’re expecting something really cool and they open it and it’s just a picture of me?”

“I’d be happy with a framed photo from my kids for father’s day”

“You’ve got kids?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked!” Auntie laughed. “I’ve got three!”

“Wow. But aren’t you gay?”

“Aren’t you?” she shot back.

“I’m... I like both”

“So do I. But men are better” Auntie smiled at him. “I’ve got a daughter who’s a couple of years older than you, and I’ve got the twins. They’re seven”

“Oh right. Are they adopted?”

“No. My daughter is from a previous relationship, and me and the husband had the twins through IVF with a surrogate”

“Oh! So, are you dad to them, or are you mum?”

“I’m dad. The drag is just an act, baby. I’m not always this gorgeous” she winked. “I’m Auntie at work, and I’m plain old Arthur at home”

“Huh” Peter blinked. “So...”

“You’ve got some cute pictures on here. Choose one, get it printed, get it framed, put it in a nice little box or wrap it up nicely. Your parents will love it” she handed Peter his phone back. “Drink your coffee, baby. I’ll find out where the nearest place that does instant print photo’s is”

“Auntie?” Peter said when she stood up. “Thank you”

Auntie reached out and ruffled the boys hair. “No problem, honey”

-

Auntie gave Peter a little hug and sent him on his way the an address scribbled on a post-it note.

“Drop by again some time” she told him. Peter rather thought he would.

-

Peter tried to think of what kind of photo he should print as he walked to the shop Auntie had recommended. He knew he had a lot of photos on his phone, but a lot of the ones of himself were selfies. Well, Flo stole his phone a lot to take pictures of him, and they were usually pretty good. Maybe those would be better.

Once he reached the shop, he unlocked his phone, and saw that Auntie had left a photo up on the screen. Peter remembered the day it was taken. It wasn’t something that he really wanted his parents to know about. 

Armed with special new waterproof cases for their phones, Flo and Peter had snuck into the swimming pool at home fully clothed. It hadn’t gone exactly according to plan. They’d thought that, because there were so many ledges and walkways with either very shallow or no water at all, they’d be able to get through to the fairy cove without getting too wet. They were wrong. They both ended up in water up to their knees very quickly. Fortunately Peter was wearing shorts, and Flo could hold her dress up and keep her clothes mostly dry. However, after they’d been in the fairy cove for a good half an hour, they’d both slipped and ended up falling into the pool and getting soaked through. Still, at least they’d managed to take some decent photos before that happened, which had been their original goal. 

That was where the photo Auntie had left on the screen was from. Peter couldn’t help worrying that he’d get into trouble if his parents found out he’d gone into the pool fully-clothed, but he supposed they hadn’t actually done any harm by doing so. Besides, it was a good photo. Part of the pool could be seen in the photo, with its soft glowing lights adding a nice touch. The funny glowing lights from the little cubby holes in the fairy cove gave the photo a funny hue, mostly pink, but with a more green hue on one side. Peter could almost hear the rush of the water and the sounds of the harp-and-xylophone music as he looked at the photo. He was dressed simply, just in black denim shorts and a white tank top. He was leaning against the rocky wall, looking off over to the other side of the pool, sat with one leg straight and the other bent up, his hands wrapped round his knee. The lights were shining in his eyes, and he looked calm, and happy. Peter had been happy with this photo at the time. It had looked almost ethereal, like he was in a different world entirely. 

Peter plugged his phone into the photo machine, and brought that photo up on the screen, having a proper look at it. It still looked good on a decent sized screen. He wasn’t sure what size to get, and he hadn’t decided if he was going to get a canvas or just a print to frame, but he was glad of the self serve photo machine, as it meant he could take his time - and he didn’t have to try to talk to anyone. Eventually he chose the 8x12 print, deciding it was better to get something that would be ready almost instantly, rather than have to hang about waiting for a canvas. He slipped the print into the paper wallet provided, unplugged his phone, and stepped aside. 

Mercifully, the shop also sold frames. After a lot of looking around and thinking, Peter purchased a thick black glittery frame, deciding it would offset the picture well. He wasn’t sure where he’d find a box to fit it, but he was sure he’d passed a card shop before getting here, and they’d certainly have some appropriate wrapping paper. He just had to do that, maybe revert to type and also buy chocolates for Loki and artisan coffee for Tony, and then that would be father’s day sorted.

-

Peter’s phone rang. Peter slipped his shopping bag onto his wrist, and took his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

“Hello?”

“What are you doing in the dodgy end of town, young man?”

“Dad? Um-”

“I’m coming to pick you up right now. Go down to the Starbucks on the corner and stay there until I arrive” Tony said.

“Wait, are you tracking my location?!”

“Yes. Well, technically, FRIDAY is. Now do as you’re told. I’ll be there in three minutes”

Tony hung up. Peter sighed, and walked the few steps to the Starbucks, leaning against the wall. Tony’s car soon came into view, the window winding down as it stopped at the side of the road.

“Get in”

Peter did as he was told. He put his bag in the foot-well, careful not to reveal its contents. Tony drove off again as soon as Peter had put his belt on.

“Do you not pay attention to the news? Three kids around your age were stabbed here just two weeks ago, and that girl was kidnapped. You had no business coming anywhere near here. What on Earth did you think you were doing?”

“Dad, I wasn’t in any danger! And anyway, even if I was, it’s not like I’m just any other kid. I’m Spiderman!”

“Yes, but before that, you’re Peter Parker-Stark: my son. And I don’t want you anywhere where you can get into trouble, especially unprepared. You might be a good little neighbourhood Spiderboy, but how do you think you’d fare if the same thing happened to you as happened to that poor girl? You know they stuck her in the neck with a needle to knock her out before they took her? You know, you might whine about me keeping tabs on you, but if that girl hadn’t had that tracking app on her phone and Fitbit, they might not have found her”

“Dad, please, for Gods sake! You sound like Doctor Shefska on daddy’s ward, spouting scare stories like that”

“Hey, don’t you dare get cheeky with me!” Tony snapped, slapping the boys leg sharply. “I’ve told you time and time again not to go any further than the big library by the arch when you’re alone, and you disobeyed me anyway. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it, either. You’re on your final warning, young man. Go any further than the library again, and you’ll be grounded for a month - and that includes patrols”

“What?! Dad! Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

“Uh, you and that attitude are going to earn you a spanking, Mister” Tony said. “Stop being cheeky and trying to downplay this. You know I worry about you, and you know I give you boundaries for you own good; for your own safety. When FRIDAY alerted me to where you were, the first thing that went through my head was; ‘oh god what if he’s hurt?’, and considering recent events, it was a very real possibility. You’re not indestructible”

Peter sighed. “I know”

“What were you doing around there anyway?”

Peter shrugged. “Just walking, I guess”

“That’s not a good enough excuse” Tony shook his head, sighing. “Like I said; you’re on your last warning. We’ll just leave it at that for now... Did you talk to any strangers?”

“Dad, I’ve got selective mutism, remember?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t always apply with customer service staff, and we both know that strange little quirk”

Peter just raised an eyebrow at him and stayed quiet.

“What’s in your bag?”

“None of your business”

“Peter! How many times do I have to tell you not to be so cheeky?!” 

“Sorry...”

“What is it, then? Is it something naughty? Is it drugs?”

“What?! No! Of course it’s not drugs! What do you take me for?!”

“Your defensiveness isn’t exactly reassuring”

“Look, I’m not an idiot: I wouldn’t take anything illegal or harmful. I was against it all even before Macy showed me Trainspotting and scarred me for life”

“Hm, I’m still not happy about that” Tony grumbled. “That girl’s a right little madam. How did she manage to get hold of it, anyway? It’s an 18!”

“She’s said her cousin sent it to her” 

“I see. Must run in the family, then. You never should’ve watched it, even if you weren’t poorly”

Peter scowled at him. “Is that why you treat me like a baby all the time?”

“I’ve treated you like a baby for way longer than you’ve been ill for” Tony said. “I treat you like a baby because you are a baby, as much as you like to think otherwise”

Peter rolled his eyes, and looked out of the window.

Tony sighed again. “Let’s just get you home. Your father is gonna get home before us at this rate”

“He was at the hospital today?”

“Yeah, last minute meeting of some sort. Whatever”

“Are you gonna tell him about today?”

Tony went quiet for a moment. “Not this time. Let’s keep it between us. Just this once”

-

As per Tony’s prediction, Loki got home first. He wasn’t in a good mood. Ordinarily, Peter would have minded, but today it meant he could escape and sort the father’s day presents uninterrupted while his parents were talking. He was as careful and neat as possible while he wrapped up the coffee and chocolates. He put the print of himself in the frame, making sure it was lined up properly, and took extra care wrapping it, fixing a ribbon diagonally over the bottom right corner. He still wasn’t entirely sure about gifting a photo of himself, but he supposed he’d just have to wait and see if Auntie’s judgement had been trustworthy or not. He hoped it would pay off. 

-

A few days after Father’s day, Peter broke the rules again and ventured back into the bad area of town. He found the gay bookshop again, and pushed the door open. He knew there would be someone behind the counter this time, so he didn’t jump when they spoke.

“Hey kid”

“Hey...” Peter swallowed hard, and approached the counter. “Is- is Auntie working today?”

“Yeah, head on up: she should be on the counter”

Peter nodded his thanks, passed by the blue bookshelf, and went upstairs. He found he was pleased to see Auntie. She looked different today. She had the same hair, but she had black lipstick and smokey eye shadow, and she was wearing a tight low-cut jumper and leather skirt. She was serving a table when he walked in, so Peter could see her killer stiletto boots too.

“Hey, it’s baby Stark!” she said when she spotted him, and gave him a hug.

Peter was surprised, but hugged her back. She smelt good; of powder and expensive perfume. She held him at arms length.

“Have you come back just to see old Auntie, baby?”

Peter nodded. “Kind of. I can’t stay long though; I’ll get into awful trouble if dad finds out I’m here”

“Oh, is that so?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

“It’s not what you think! He just worries about me being in this part of town”

“Well, I can’t blame him” she said, and sat down at a nearby table. “Come here, honey”

Peter sat down beside her, and Auntie pulled his chair closer. 

“How did father’s day go?”

“Oh! You remembered!”

Auntie smiled. “Of course. I asked you to come back, remember?”

Peter nodded. “Yep! And I nodded, didn’t I?”

“I was hoping to see you tarted up. Have you tried out dungarees yet?”

Peter giggled. “Not yet. No, I dropped by, just to say thank you again. You were right; they loved the photo. I used the one you left up on my phone”

“Show me again?”

Peter got out his phone and showed her the photo. She nodded.

“Good, I chose well! I knew they’d like it. I’m never wrong, you know”

“I know now” Peter smiled. “I got a nice frame for it, all black glitter. They moved some stuff around and put it in the centre of the mantelpiece in the main living room. I’m was kinda nervous giving it to them, so it’s good it’s appreciated, y’know?”

“I told you it’d go down well, honey. It’s a cool photo” Auntie said. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Well... I’d really better not. I’ll try to come back for longer some other time, but I can’t really today”

“Aw honey, you’re a bit of a daddy’s boy, aren’t you? Don’t try to deny it; even the tabloid photos are proof enough” she took his hand and kissed it. “Look up the shop on Instagram when you get home. You can find my page through it, and maybe I’ll end up doing a gig near you some time, and you can come along”

“Ok, but I’m too young for clubs”

“But you’re not too young for cafe-bars. Get your parents to go along. Maybe Mr Playboy will let you hang about the bookshop if he knows old Auntie is here to keep an eye on you”

Peter smiled nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’ll give it a go anyway. I- well, aside from obviously being in a big gay household, I don’t really get to talk to many other people like me, and it’s kinda nice doing that”

“Honey, you enter a whole other world when you find more people like you. You’re young, and most people have to wait until they can go to gay clubs. You’re lucky to have places like this about. You’ll meet people if you go to them. You know it’s healthy to do so”

Peter nodded. “I know. Maybe I’ll guilt trip daddy that way”

Auntie laughed. “You’re a caution, baby”

Peter’s phone started ringing before he could reply.

“Is that daddy-Playboy?”

Peter looked at his phone, and nodded. He answered the call.

“I know where you are!” Tony said. “Don’t you dare leave that shop; I’ll be there to get you in five minutes. You are so totally grounded!”

Peter grimaced, glancing at Auntie. “I’ll stay put”

“You’d better! We’re gonna have a falling out one of these days, young man! See you in a minute”

“See you in a minute”

Peter ended the call, and sighed heavily. Auntie squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t go looking so worried, baby” she said. “I’ll talk him round the moment he arrives”

Peter couldn’t help but grin. Maybe this fierce drag queen could mellow out his over-protective father. He certainly hoped so.

*

[edenian-princess]

Grocery Shopping (Finale)

Second and final part!

Inspiration from @its-fabs and their post here!

Part One

Jumin x MC

Category x

Word Count: 1736

Yah, a bit wordy, true shout outs to people who read the whole thing XD

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have executive papers to sign or something?” Zen folded his arms across his chest and raised a brow.

“I’m running errands for MC. Just help me.”

“Oh, I’ll help you. But first…” Zen pulled his phone out and took a picture of Jumin by his cart. “…there we go. Okay, let’s hurry up. I don’t want to spend more time with you than I have to.”

Jumin sighed softly and pulled the list back out. “Okay, I need flour.”

“Let’s go.” Zen sped through the store, somehow managing to evade customers. Jumin’s eyes widened as he watched him go, and soon enough, he trailed closely behind him. Zen turned into aisle ten, and stood in front of the shelves of flour. “Okay, what kind does MC need.”

Jumin paused. “The worker sent me to the wrong aisle before.” He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Dude, are you serious? You don’t even know the kind of flour you need? You’re seriously the worst—”

“Shh.” Jumin turned away from Zen and pushed his phone to his ear.

 Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my darling. I’m sorry to call you again, but what type of flour do you need?”

“Oh, don’t be sorry Ju…ah, hold on…yes! I’ll be there in a minute! Sorry, Jumin, I just need cake flour!”

“Thank you, MC. I don’t want to keep you longer than I have to.”

“You really aren’t…you have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice right now.”

“Now you know how I feel every time you call me, my love.”

“Oh, Jumin…how are you, is the shopping going well? Are you almost done?”

“I’m making my way through the list.”

“…Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces past and I’m homebound…”

“Ha…how cute. Unbelievably cute.”

“Shoot…Jumin, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Will do. I love—”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

 Jumin pouted, again, and put his phone in his back pocket.

“So, which kind does she need?” Zen flashed Jumin an annoyed look.

“Cake flour.” Jumin’s eyes scanned the shelves.

“You take forever.” Zen placed a packet of cake flour into the cart. “Next item, what is it.”

Jumin slowly straightened himself and pulled the list out again.

“Why are you moving so slow?”

“Because I know it bothers you.”

“You…! I could just leave you here right now!”

“Okay. Bye.”

Zen let out a frustrated grunt and pushed the cart a little further down the lane. “Chocolate chips are in this lane. But there are a variety, so which kind does she need.”

Jumin moved to dig his phone out, and Zen groaned in exasperation. “Dude, you’re seriously hopeless. Just get her milk chocolate chips.”

“But as you said, there are a variety. What if she needs dark chocolate chips?”

“Why didn’t you just ask her this stuff before you left?!”

“The past cannot be changed.”

“…You’re such an ass.”

Jumin ignored Zen and moved to tap MC’s number again, but Zen quickly gathered packets of chocolate chips, one of each kind that was available.

“MC doesn’t need that many, she only asked for one pack.”

“Well, she’ll have what she needs, and she can do whatever she wants to do with the extras.” Zen stood behind the cart. “What next.”

“Hm…we could order a fondue fountain and melt the other chocolates…and—”

“Yo.” Zen snapped his fingers. “Focus. What’s next.”

“Milk.”

“Okay, then what.”

“Eggs.”

“Okay, then what.”

Jumin flipped the list back. “Hm. It looks like that’s it.”

Zen sped through the store, miraculously avoiding customers, while Jumin strolled by without a care in the world.

“Hurry up, stupid trust fund kid!”

“I have no reason to hurry.”

“Don’t you want to get home to MC?!”

“She won’t be home for another three hours.”

“…I am not spending three hours with you here.” Zen parked the cart and moved to grab a gallon of milk. “Is this fine?”

“…It’s whole milk.”

“So?!”

“…I wonder where the dairy farmer is.”

“THERE IS NO DAIRY FARMER HERE, THIS IS RETAIL. YOU GET WHAT YOU GET.”

Jumin paused. “Well, that’s very unreliable. How do I know how recent the dairy products are? What if they are spoiled?”

“Then it sucks to be you.” Zen placed the gallon of milk into the cart and moved to grab the eggs. Once he was done placing the dozen eggs into the cart, he turned around, but Jumin was nowhere in sight.

“I swear to…hey!! Trust fund kid, where did you go?!”

“Sir…there is nothing wrong with these e-eggs! All of them are in g-good condition, a-and—”

“Only good condition? Why aren’t they in impeccable condition? Who is your poultry farmer?”

“Sir, we…uh…these eggs are just shipped over to us.” The manager speaking with Jumin looked up at him, his presence almost threatening.

“So, these eggs aren’t good at all. That’s what you’re telling me.” Jumin scowled and folded his arms over his chest.

“Excuse him!” Zen slammed the cart into Jumin. “He’s new here, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Jumin winced and pushed the cart away. “I’m not done talking to—”

Zen gritted his teeth. “Yes. You are done talking to him. Now, let’s go to the checkout line, pay for this stuff, and leave.”

Jumin blinked. “It’s not good to grit your teeth like that, Zen.”

The lines at checkout were longer than expected. Zen sighed and pulled out his phone while Jumin looked around, his eyes fleeting from a small jewelry store to the stacks of candy available by the registers. He turned and started to move towards the jewelry counter, but Zen quickly stopped him.

“Don’t go anywhere. You move, you lose your place in line.”

“I just want to look at something.” Jumin made his way towards the jewelry store, while Zen fumed in the checkout line.

Jumin almost reveled in the drastic difference in atmosphere the second he stepped foot in the store. He gazed at the assortment of diamonds and sapphires, necklaces, rings, and earrings, and eventually, his eyes landed on a pendant; a huge diamond, with small to medium sized tanzanite gems circled around it.

“Sir, may I help you?” A sales associate placed their hand over the pendant case and beamed up at him.

“Yes, I’d like to look at that there.” Jumin pointed down at the associate’s hand, and they quickly retrieved the pendant for him. It looked even better as he held it in his hand, and without any hesitation, he said, “I would like to buy this.”

“Yes sir! That will be eight thousand, nine hundred dollars!”

Jumin handed his credit card over, paid for the necklace, and moved back to the checkout line.

“Jeez, took you long enough.” Zen huffed. “What did you get, anyways?”

“I hardly think that’s any of your business.” Jumin tucked the pendant case into his suit jacket, and his eyes started to roam again.

“Don’t leave the line again, we’re almost at the cashier.”

“Mm.” Jumin’s eyes fell towards Twix candy bars and he reached out to grab one. “Hm…MC likes these.”

“Oh? Then get her one.”

Jumin reached out and grabbed the entire box, as well as the box hidden in the back. Zen’s jaw dropped. “Idiot, I said one!”

“She deserves more than just one mere packet. How uncharitable of you, to only want to give her one.”

“Shut the hell up, you stupid—”

“Next in line, please!” the cashier called.

“…Whatever. Get her all the Twix she wants, she does deserve them all, unlike you.” Zen started putting items up onto the conveyor belt.

“Ah, she also likes these candies as well. I must get them for her.” Jumin placed two boxes of Kit-Kat bars onto the conveyor belt.

“Dude, are you serious?! What about the other customers?!”

“They can go to the other checkout lanes. These are for MC.”

“You—!”

“That’ll be fifty-six dollars even.” The cashier looked at Jumin, then Zen.

“Thank you.” Jumin swiped his credit card, and as soon as the receipt was printed, Zen grabbed the bags and pushed them onto Jumin.

“There. I did my good deed for you for the century. Tell MC I said hi.”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Jumin shrugged, and made his way to the store’s exit.

“Jumin! I’m home!”

Jumin shot from his desk and ran towards me, pulling me into a tight embrace. “Welcome home, my darling. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Jumin!” I reached up, caressed his cheek, and put my purse on the coffee table. “How was the trip to the grocery store?”

“…Productive.”

“…What’s with the hesitation?”

“I had to call Assistant Kang and ask her for help.”

“Oh, Jumin…” I grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “…did she help you?”

“Yes and no. She sent Zen to help me.”

I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing. “She did, did she? Did you two tear up the store?”

“We didn’t.” Jumin chuckled. “But, we did get your items for you.”

“Thank you very, very much.” I pecked his lips and moved towards the kitchen, his hands gliding off my waist as I made my way there. But, before I reached the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks; I couldn’t help but notice boxes of candy and several bags of chocolate chips, each a different kind of chocolate.

“Jumin, I think you strayed from the list.” I giggled and turned towards him. His hands were behind his back, and he shrugged softly, a sly grin plastered on his face.

“…What else did you buy?”

“…Something.”

I charged towards him and reached behind his back my fingers dancing over a smooth velvet box.

“Jumin…?”

“You know…” he pulled a necklace out of the box and cradled it in his hands. “…you kept hanging up on me before I could say ‘I love you’ back.”

“I…I did? I’m so sorry, Jumin…”

He turned me around and gently placed the necklace around my neck. “You have to make up for that now.”

I turned to face him and pouted playfully. “Don’t leave me too sore, Jumin. I need to go to work early tomorrow.”

He picked me up and secured his hands under my bottom. The sly grin on his face grew and goosebumps rode up my arms as he whispered, “I’ll consider it.”

[ellebeebee]

Seachange

Part Four/Nine

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

Mira is second guessing herself over telling her brother the truth.  And post-Voeld, and post-Aya outing, she still can’t be sure about where she sits with Liam.  A weird emotional precipice they’re both balancing on.

2891 words, Liam x f!Ryder, teen rating

AO3

-

She woke up with her lungs collapsing and her eyes burning with the neon afterimages of her father’s mouth moving, imparting words only heard by the void.

Mira struggled with her blankets, disoriented.  She breathed and her hands flew up to push her damp hair out of her face.  As she sat up, she balled up the length of her hair, pulled it away from her hot neck.  The console beside her bed read 0232, and the darkness of her quarters was barely broken against the shimmer of stars outside the broad windows.  Their light a faint memory from light years ago.

“Are you alright, Pathfinder?” SAM asked.

His vivid blue holo-representation on her desk had come back online, no doubt on account of her.

“Yeah,” Mira replied.

He could roll off her raised vitals, obvious proof contrary to her claim, but they’d gotten to the point where what is obvious doesn’t need to said.  It could maybe (possibly, improbably) even be called trust.

Mira kicked off her blankets and stood.  She threw off her heavy sweats, the Tempest’s constantly cool air grazing her bare chest, and pulled on a lighter t-shirt and shorts.  She put up her hair.

It wasn’t really Dad that was giving her nightmares; although, he was one reason.  One persistent, awful thing that always skulked around her head and reminded her that she was an orphan, that she was playing at being a being a hero, that she had never really known him--

Mira stopped that line of thought.

Everything sucked and she didn’t want to cry again.  But if she didn’t, it would just get bigger, and the crying harder.  But she couldn’t stop herself from stopping herself from venting.  She was a freaking trainwreck that kept wrecking and wrecking.

Mira went to her terminal at the desk to check her e-mail.  It wasn’t a cigarette, but one neurotic tic usually substituted for another.  She wished this was Mars, where no one cared if you smoked, and she could sit on the research center’s battlements, look at the bright dot that was Earth, and think about all the times she should’ve been better to Mom.  But Mira’d quit when they came to the Initiative, before the leap.  And she’d already had one ear chewed off by Lexi about her medical history; she’d rather keep the other one than start smoking again.

Vetra probably knew how to get human cigarettes.

No, no.

Don’t think about that.

Think about the real problem.

Deal with things.  Don’t let them fester.

...Or maybe write these e-mails.

Yes, good plan, great job, Mira.  You’re doing awesome.  Yep, you tell Evfra you’re glad the Moshae is settling in.  Write confident.  You’re the Pathfinder.  Angara probs can’t tell how young you are, anyways.  Yeah, you tell Tann you don’t care what he thinks about Kadara!  Yeah.  Except politely.  Professional!  That’s what you are.  A professional.  Yeah.

And then she started worrying about the time and what they’d think when they got these mails at the asscrack of not even dawn, and that was another thing to think excessively about.  So that was good.

And then a line, completely unrelated made her pause and she could hear it, clear as day--

I don’t feel well.

And all Mira could do was stare at her hands, awash in the blue light of SAM and her terminal.  Her fingers curled in.

She had asked herself this a million times already, and she’d no doubt ask herself a billion times more: had she done the right thing telling Forta about Dad?  About Heleus?

This… is a nightmare.

Exactly her thoughts, but she didn’t want Forta thinking that.  Not when he was so vulnerable… And just.  Pitiful.  Even if it was true.  But she didn’t want her brother worrying about that.  He needed to get better.

Mira’s stomach clenched, and her face got so hot.  And she knew her expression, she knew, was falling fast.

He needed to get better.  He just had to.

-

And that’s how she found herself in the galley, the little table in there covered in containers and canisters and vacuum-sealed jugs.

Mira scrolled down a datapad of baking recipes and tips, copying and pasting things she found relevant and making notes of her own.  She was no stranger to this process, but she had to be prepared.  This was a one-shot deal and once she started, there was no going back.

“Ryder?”

She looked up.

Liam stood in the galley hatchway.  Because of course he did.  The one time she ventured out into the ship without a bra, and he showed up.  And too late to pull down her hair-- but he hadn’t seemed to notice, and in any case, he looked like his mind was elsewhere.  His face was drawn and his smile was just… off.  Red rimmed his eyes.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

And he studied her face, and she wasn’t sure it looked much better than his.

“Umm…” he started, hand coming up to rub at his neck.  His eyes darted down from her gaze to look at all the stuff she’d pulled out. “What are you doing?”

Despite herself, Mira’s chest ached.  After their Aya outing (after her disaster of a confession on Voeld), they hadn’t talked a lot.  About anything beyond some dumb B-list movie or the next mission.  They were still hanging again, yeah, but it was like invisible lines had been drawn at some point.  He seemed distracted and hyper-concerned about the condition of the colonies.  And that was one of the things that she loved about him: that he tried so hard for the sake of others.

So no, she didn’t want to take that away from him.  No, she didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want.  But was it really bad of her to want someone to confide in, like, really really confide in?  Did it make her a shitty person to want someone to need to know how she (She!  Her!  Mira!  Ryder!) was doing?

Was it awful that she wanted Liam Kosta to ask her what was wrong?

Mira cleared her throat. “Making brownies.”

His brow shot up. “Brownies?”

“Brownies,” she repeated, trying a small smile. “Um, I couldn’t sleep.  And I-- uh.”

“You bake when you can’t sleep?” Liam supplied.  He pulled the fridge open to take out a water.

Mira went back to her canisters of synth-flour and the jug of that weird asari native animal’s ‘milk’ that worked so well as an egg substitute.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, not so much since we got to Heleus.  Because, resources.  But at home I did all the time.”

He slid into a seat at the table, careful not to disturb all her ingredients.  Closer, she could see he really was puffy and red around the eyes.  She glanced back to her datapad.  That made her chest ache, too.  She wanted so bad to know if he’d been crying himself to sleep again.  If it was really a regular occurrence

But she was afraid to ask.  She was afraid he’d think it was weird, too soon, or worse-- tell her it was never gonna happen.  He knew what she felt about… all of, y’know, them or whatever.  But she didn’t know what he thought, and this had gone on long enough (she had it bad enough at this point) that she was too much of a coward to ask.

Shit.

It just.  Sucked.

Liam chugged some water and considered her. “Don’t brownies take a lot of chocolate?”

Mira froze.  She glanced at him.

He looked back.  And then he broke out into a real grin. “You look guilty, Ryder.  You done something, haven’t you?”

She cleared her throat, tried to go back to her measurements and look natural. “Me?  No way.”

“Ryyyderrr,” Liam drawled. “You know you’ve a shit poker face right?  Terrible.”

She huffed. “Well, excuse me.”

“Awful.”

She ignored him.

“Absolute shit.  Face it, Ryder.  You’re as transparent as plexi.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Y’know.  I was thinking of giving you first bite…”

He laughed. “Alright, I’m sorry for pointing out the obvious.  But you’re still sharing.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he stated, winking. “‘Cause I’m cute.”

Then she laughed. “Whatever, Kosta.”

“C’mon.  Spill already.”

Mira glanced at him. “Don’t tell Vetra.  But I… ‘commandeered’ a lot of our chocolate supply.”

Liam whistled in admiration. “And blamed it on the pyjak.  Mira Ryder, you rebel.”

She laughed.  And he watched as she finally decided on her game plan for these impromptu, make-do brownies.  She precisely measured out each of her ingredients.  And as she turned the oven on and began to melt the ‘butter’ (actually a levo ‘cheese’ made by a dextro company that seemed confused about levo cheeses) and the chocolate, she did her best to ignore the way Liam watched her move around the galley.

To distract him (and herself) for a while, she babbled a bit about their chocolate.  It was really, really good stuff.  Like, nothing synth or vat cloned about it.  Rich and dark, it would probably cover up plenty of sins from the other elements.  Mira had Liam help her pour the melted chocolate into the rest of the wet ingredients while she folded it all together, and then the dry stuff.  While she gently did the final mixing, he stole tastes of the raw batter.  Which she ignored.

It was nice.  Middle of the night, had the whole ship really to themselves.  Making brownies.  It was… normal.

When she finally had the pan of dark batter in the oven, she nudged Liam into helping her clean up.  

As he closed up canisters, he said, “So.  Are these brownies ‘for two’ or are you sharing with everyone?  Because I may know a good hiding spot.”

She paused from wiping down the counter.  She glanced at him.

“Actually,” Mira started. “They’re, uh-- I’m actually planning on vacuum sealing most of them and sending them back to the Hyperion.”

He put something back in the fridge, closed the door, and leaned against it to study her.  She studiously went back to cleaning.

“The Hyperion?” Liam asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.  Um.  Some for Harry.  Because, y’know.  He’s done so much for my brother… and--”

And she’d stopped cleaning, and she couldn’t look up from staring at her hands.  And her ears were ringing.

“Shit, it’s so dumb--” she gasped, and covered her face with those same hands damp with soap.

She felt Liam moving nearby, probably freaked by her sudden shift in mood.  But she couldn’t help it.  It just all came on like a tsunami.  Everything was just…

Mira pulled her hands down and choked out a wet laugh. “It’s really, really dumb, but I wanted to make brownies for Forta, because I don’t know if I did the right thing.  If I hurt him, and it doesn’t make sense.  It doesn’t make up for anything, but--”

“Hey, hey--”

And he took her into his arms, folded her into his chest.  Enveloped her into a warmth she so desperately needed and hadn’t been able to vocalize, even to herself.  And that was painful.  Goddam him but his goodness was so painful.  What she felt for him was painful.  And everything sucked, and all she could do was cry into his shoulder.  Clutch at him with twitching fingers, and sob.

And it was all new again, because their bodies knew each other but really didn’t know anything.  Were complete, utter, total, absolute strangers.  Strangers pressed again into embrace that needed.  They needed and needed and needed each other.  She needed him holding her against the aluminum edge of the galley counter, needed him holding her against the strength of her own feelings.

When she calmed down, she pushed back against him.  But not away from her.  She wasn’t nearly unselfish enough for that.

“Don’t say sorry,” Liam instantly said, before she could open her mouth.

So she just stared up into his brown eyes.  The wetness on the brown skin around his eyes.  He looked a sight, but no way could he look worse than she probably did.

“Mira,” he said.  And he leaned in to place his forehead against hers.  She closed her eyes.

He continued. “I think your brother knows what you feel.  He understands.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “We made a promise-- when we were kids.  That we’d never lie to each other.  Twin promise.  Way more serious than pinkie promise.”

He made a small huff of amusement that tickled her lashes. “See?  There you go.”

The twin promises.  With all the gravity of blood sacraments, she and Forta had sworn to never forsake such oaths.  On pain of foregoing their desserts to the other for all eternity.  The never lying had mostly been deemed necessary when it was clear that Mom’s “I’ll come play in just a minute” had generally meant several hours later into whatever project she’d been on when she’d realized what she had told them, and when it was clear that Dad’s “I’ll be there for the holiday” had really meant he’d vidcall for about twenty minutes.  But Mira and Forta had never made such empty promises to each other; they swore to always be upfront, and hadn’t broken that record yet.

So what could she have done?

Even if it had upset him in that fragile state, what could she have done?

She shook her head. “But I can’t lose him, Liam.  If he’s gone, too--”

She stopped.  And he pulled her back in tightly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Yeah, I know.”

And he understood.  She hated that he did.  Wished that he didn’t, but he understood.

The hug continued for a while, until her tears stopped and she stopped sniffing.  And the smell of sweetness and chocolate asserted itself more and more throughout the small kitchen.  Parading its deliciousness.  So Mira gently pushed against him and stepped back; Liam seemed to hesitate, but did let go.  And they had an awkward period where they didn’t know what to do with their hands without holding onto the other.  So she smiled sheepishly and wiped at her cheeks.

Liam cleared his throat. “Uh.  Just so you know-- that smells amazing.  Honestly, if I were coming out of a coma, brownies would be priority number one for me.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Jeez, you and Forta-- there’s no way I’m letting you two meet.  What a disaster.”

She was choosing for the moment to ignore the “if” in those statements.  If he wakes from the coma.  If he gets the chance to meet Liam.  Because the crying had made her body seem lighter, as if some part of the sadness dissipated through the tears, and the perfume of brownies had already smothered her cortisol and fired off her serotonin.  Seemed to, anyway.

As she bent to check on the pan through the glass door of the over, she considered her next words.  She straightened, tucked a curl out of her eyes, and considered Liam.  He sat against the counter watching her.  His eyes were still a bit red, but he generally looked better somehow than when he first came into the galley.

“Liam,” she said. “Sorry-- no, wait.  Sorry for dumping all that on you.”

He shook his head and shifted again, hands at his sides twitching like he was gonna reach for her again.

“No sorries. Really, Mira, you don’t need--  We’re…”

And when he trailed off, the light in his eyes flickering, she gave him a small smile.

“See?  We’re…” she pointedly trailed off too, and shrugged.

An idle hand mussed in his hair, as his brows drew in. “Shit, I-- Y’know, I keep dicking this up, I know, but…”

“Liam,” she stopped him. “I know.  We’re all just going in a bit blind.  For what it’s worth?  I’d rather have you dicking things up than anything else.”

That poked a laugh from him.  Quiet, and a bit awkward, but a laugh nonetheless.

With impeccable timing, Mira’s timer for the brownies went off.  They came out of the oven with an absolutely beautiful crackled chocolate crust on top, and the perfect amount of thick fudgy crumbs clinging to the eating stick she tested the center with.  She straightened from the pan with a smile.

“A success,” she declared.

Liam had been conspicuously edging closer the instant the pan came out. “So?  You promised.  First taste.”

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes.

Somehow, they ended up sneaking back into the cargo bay on silent tiptoes, the brownies carefully hidden beneath kitchen towels.  And they laid out in storage, continuing the twenty-first century drell drama they’d started the other day and eating out of the warm brownie pan with two forks.  At some point around 0600 they passed out, nestled against each other and most of the brownies devoured.

Sometime later, Harry Carlyle received a package on the Hyperion.  Two vacuum-sealed containers, incredibly tiny, with a note from the pathfinder.  One(1) brownie for Dr. Carlyle, to thank him for his work, and one(1) for Forta Ryder, once he finally got his ass out of bed.  Chocolate rations being what they were, sorry there wasn’t more.

Harry wasn’t complaining; it was a very good brownie.