#offered advil from her own purse if we needed it

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Good evening! I (27F) work at a somewhat mid-tier hotel (you can expect to pay 175 to 250 per night kinda place in a somewhat good area) So i deal with a lot of entitled guests that try to snatch and run when they think the desk was left alone. Am i the a-hole for charging them the most expensive items (even if i know they grabbed a small item) and leaving a note that they steal in their reservation? (they can't see the note at check-out)

What are these acronyms?

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 2 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hello besties, laptop is going haywire but for the moment we are back!! 

Read chapter 1 of this fic here!

TW: This chapter contains swearing and descriptions of domestic violence. Please read at your own discretion! 

wordcount: 2.6k

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 DM to be added to the tag list :) 

Josh fell asleep on your ride home. You roused him gently as you pulled into your designated parking spot outside of your apartment.

“Josh,” You whispered, pushing at his shoulder gently. “Come on, we’re home. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.” 

He jerked awake. “Fuck. I was sleeping. Jesus.” He barked. 

“Sorry, baby. We’re home.” You repeated.

“Don’t know why you even bother calling it home. You’re never fucking here.” Josh grumbled, clumsily unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out the passenger seat of the car. He went on ahead as you went into your backseat to gather your go-bag and purse. When you got to the front door, he was still fumbling with his house key. 

“Here, let me.” You took the key from his hands gently, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door. 

Before you could even turn around, you were on the floor in the doorway, your nose slamming into the carpet. You were bleeding onto the floor, your blood soaking the tan fibers. It takes you a moment to realize that he’d pushed you. 

“Josh, what the--” a well placed kick to your hip cut off your protest before you could finish it. You rolled over, looking up to see him panting, with angry eyes. 

“You think you’re real slick huh? Staying late at work with the boss? Jesus, sweetheart. I thought you were better than getting a promotion on your back.”

“We were working, Josh. There’s nothing else going on there.” You argued, scrambling backwards away from him and propping yourself up on your elbows. You know that there should be some sort of instinct kicking in, one that allows you to disarm him as if he were an unsub, but you feel helpless as you struggle to put distance between the two of you. He followed you across the room, kneeling over you and pinning you against the floor before delivering another harsh slap to your already-swollen cheek. 

“Listen to me when I’m talking to you.” He growled, and you gulped. He smirked, before grabbing you by the hair and throwing you against the closest wall. You see stars, but you will yourself to stay awake. You’re scared of what he might do if you can’t fight back. 

“Oh yeah? Just working, at 2AM when everyone else is gone? And what was that he called you? Invaluable.” He spits out, pulling you up roughly by your forearms. He leaned in close, presumably to intimidate you. You don’t give him the satisfaction, looking him in the eye and doing your best not to let your glare betray your fear. “Well, we’ll see about that.” He smirked, reaching an arm around to take your gun out of its holster, placing it against  your chin. Your face dropped. 

“Josh… Joshua, you’re drunk. Let’s just go to bed, okay? I’m sorry I was out late. I’ll make it up to you in the morning. I swear.” You’re frantic, your training leaving you once again. De-escalate, de-escalate, de-escalate. “I’m sorry, baby. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll request a transfer so I don’t have to travel anymore.” 

He chuckled. “Okay, dear. We can talk in the morning. I’m going up to bed. Get that blood out of the carpet, will you?” He placed your gun on a nearby end table.

He kissed you on the forehead before he went to the bedroom, but the gesture had never been less comforting. He left you there, standing against the wall, blood streaming down your face. You slid down the wall, knees curled up into your chest on the floor, regulating your breath for a few minutes before you rose again. You holster your gun before tending to the blood on the carpet, realizing belatedly that you can’t get it clean because you’re still dripping all over the stain. You chuckled a little, although none of this is really all that funny, sitting back on your heels and looking up at the ceiling, wondering how the fuck you ended up here. Realizing you had no clue what time it was, you reached out your work phone, seeing a missed text from Aaron. 

Please let me know that you’re safe.

You looked around, at your blood on the carpet, at the dent your head had made in the drywall when Josh threw you against it. You brought a gentle hand to your face, feeling how your nose was definitely not in the same place it was when the day had started, and you sighed. Things with Josh were never perfect-- but this was too far. You texted Hotch back. 

I need help. 

Hotch could have easily blamed his inability to fall asleep on the cups of coffee you both had been drinking well into the evening, but he knew that wasn’t the case. If that were so, there was no reason for him to be flicking his eyes over to his phone every three minutes. But here he was, in his study, file open in front of him, and not a word of it absorbed.     

Finally, finally, his phone buzzed. He unlocked it fervently, anxious for the assurance that you were fine. Your text provided no such assurance. 

“Are you safe right now? Do you need medical?” He texted back, trying to keep his head for your sake. 

“Not urgently. Can’t stay here.” 

“You alone?”

“He’s asleep.” 

“On my way. Pack a go bag.” 

“Don’t come in. Light sleeper. Just text.”

You were suddenly grateful for the load of laundry you’d left in the dryer that morning, tossing it all in your go bag without folding it. When you realized that you didn’t know when or if you’d be back here, you took the lockbox off the top of the fridge and pulled out all of your important documents-- your passport, birth certificate, social security card--you tuck them all into a file folder as you feel your phone buzz. 

“Outside.” Hotchner texts you plainly. You gingerly pick up your bags and slip out the door, careful not to make any noise. 

Hotch is out of the car in an instant once he sees you-- he doesn’t know what he expected, exactly, but somehow you look worse, even from a distance. 

“Hey, hey, give me that.” He said, taking your bags from you. “You said you didn’t need medical.” He said, accusatory, but not mean. 

“I said not urgently. I didn’t want you to send an ambulance.” You told him. “I feel fine. I just need advil.” You said as the two of you climbed into his SUV. 

He looked you over, incredulous. Your nose was definitely broken, and he couldn’t tell in the dark of the night, but he was pretty sure you were still bleeding. Your cheek was swollen from where he slapped you, and you were sporting a black eye, likely a complication of the nose. And that was just what he could see. He shuddered, although he tried to hide it from you. 

“We’re going to the hospital.” He said, turning his key in the ignition and taking off.

“Hotch, I just want to sleep. Please. I’ll take myself to the hospital in the morning, I promise.” You practically begged. 

He turned his head towards you. The only thing he wanted more than to give in, in that moment, was to make sure that you were safe. “Did you hit your head?” He asked, 

“What?” You asked. 

“Did you bump your head at all, when everything happened?”

“Yeah,” you told him, running a hand over your head and feeling the tender bump that was forming there. You cringed, and Aaron caught it. 

“I’m sorry, but we need to take you to the hospital. You probably have a concussion.” He apologized. 

“I really don’t want to go through the whole ‘you were clearly involved in a domestic dispute’ thing that they’re going to do,” you complained.

“You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to answer. I just need to make sure you’re okay. Everything else goes at your pace.” He promises you, sneaking a glance away from the road and over to your face. You’re already looking back at him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

Already looking back at the road, Hotch took one hand away from the wheel and gave your forearm a quick squeeze in response. You drove in silence for a few moments before Aaron pulled into the hospital.

“Alright, let’s get this over with so we can get you to bed.” He told you, climbing out of the car before coming over to your side to help you walk. Truth be told, you didn’t really need assistance, but your hip hurt so badly that you were limping, and it seemed better to have Aaron slowed down by helping you, rather than just by watching you. 

The emergency room was, thankfully, deserted, and you were seen relatively quickly. Aaron offered to stay in the waiting room but you asked him to come with you. 

“I, uh. I don’t really want to be left alone right now, if you don’t mind.”

“No, no, of course not.” He said, standing and following you and the nurse. 

“What brings you in, dear?” The nurse asked, moving slowly to accommodate your pace. 

“My boyfriend beat the shit out of me.” You said, figuring she might make it easier if you  just bite the bullet, and Aaron shot you a glance. You shrugged in response, and then noticed the nurse’s eyes shifting between the two of you. 

“Oh, no. Not him.” You assured her with as big of a smile as you could muster, given the amount of pain that you were in. “He’s a friend. He picked me up.” You explained as she led the two of you into an exam room, shutting the door behind you. Aaron helped you up onto the exam bed gently, choosing to stand nearby rather than sit in the chair provided.

“Okay, ma’am. Our policy for domestic disputes is not to involve police unless requested by the victim.” You cringed at her word choice. “We don’t want this to be more stressful than it already is. What we do instead, is we take a detailed account of everything that happened to cause you bodily harm, and if you decide to pursue any legal action, we can send those records along on your behalf. So can you tell me what happened tonight?” 

You glanced over at Aaron before you started, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t going to like this. You told the nurse, clinically, what had happened, leaving out the things he had said to you for Aaron’s sake. You did your best to keep your emotions in check, although regurgitating everything that had happened was making you feel sick. You glanced over at Aaron-- his jaw was set, his mouth in a straight line, nostrils flaring, even as he stared at the linoleum tile on the floor. You closed your eyes and attempted to zone out as you continued, as if you could distance yourself from the emotions by imagining that it was just a story you were telling. 

“And then he pulled my gun out of my holster---”

“Ma’am, do you have a gunshot wound?” The nurse interrupts you, voice slightly panicked.

Oh, shit. You probably didn’t need to include that part. Your eyes are open in an instant, and you look over at Hotch. He’s pissed, and not looking at the floor anymore.

“No, no. Sorry, that is um--- that’s clinically insignificant. He didn’t fire the gun or strike me with it. That’s how it ended.”

“Okay, hon. Why don’t you get changed,” she said, handing you a hospital gown, “and I’ll send the doctor in in just a second.” 

“Thank you,” you said, and Aaron echoed his thanks. 

“Clinically insignificant?” Aaron asked incredulously as the nurse shut the door. 

“Can you turn around? I need to change.” You deflected.

He turned to face the wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He pulled a gun on you, (y/n).” He shook his head as you quickly changed. 

“I know. I’m sorry. You can turn back around now.” You told him.

“No, I’m sorry. How long has this been going on for? How did I not notice?” He asked as he turned to see you, practically swimming in the oversized gown.

“I think we all work really, really hard not to be profiled, Aaron.” You tried to comfort him.

He was interrupted before he could respond by the doctor knocking and then swinging the door open.

“Good evening, folks.” The smiling blonde woman said. “Let’s get you home so you can sleep some of this off, yeah?” 

It takes a couple of hours, but you’re sent home with a nose that’s set back in place, as well as a prescription for enough pain killers to put a large dog in a coma, in addition to the confirmation that you did, in fact, have a concussion. Your hip, thankfully, was just bruised. 

“She needs to be woken up every couple of hours for the rest of the night and the day tomorrow. Just to be safe.” The doctor told Hotch. 

“Not a problem.” He said resolutely. 

“Do you have any questions?” She asked, turning to you. 

“When can I go back to work?”

“Well, if you work at a computer--”

“I work for the justice department. So, I guess I’m really asking about field work.” You clarify.

“At least ten days, and that’s if you’re feeling better.” She said, giving you a stern look. You visibly deflated, knowing that if the doctor said ten days, Hotch wasn’t letting you in the field for at least twenty. 

“Thank you, doctor.” Hotchner said, placing a hand on the small of you back as she opened the door and allowed you both out. 

“Of course. Call us if anything changes.”

You trudged out to the car in an exhausted silence, sure that you’ll fall asleep as soon as the car starts moving. Once you’re buckled in, Hotch speaks. 

“I’ll tell Strauss that we aren’t coming in today,” he says offhandedly as he cranes his body back to pull out of the parking spot, his arm strewn across the back of your seat for leverage.

“We?” You questioned. 

“You need to be woken up every two hours. I can’t exactly do that from the office.” He reminds you. 

“I can just set an alarm on my phone, it’s not a big deal.” 

“Uh huh, and when the alarm doesn’t wake you up because you have a brain bleed?” He’s teasing you, but you also know him well enough to know that there is a very real twinge of anxiety behind it. 

“Hotch,” you scoffed at his joke, breaking into a smile despite yourself. “I don’t need you to take care of me.” You added more seriously. 

“I know you don’t.” He placates you. “But will you let me do it anyways? Plus, you’re not the only one who didn’t sleep last night.”   

“I guess that’s my fault.” You admitted. 

“Hey, I’m glad you called me. And I’m also glad the bureau has a generous sick leave policy. We both need it right now.” 

You can sense that this is an argument that you’re not going to win, and even if you could, you don’t have the energy to try. You close your eyes and lean back against the headrest in the car, giving him a resigned nod before you fall asleep.

[ofendlesswonder]

48 with supercat, please!☺️

This is the morning after of this prompt, which I know a few people wanted to see. 

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.”

Kara wakes up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar hotel room with an absolutely pounding headache,and oh, Rao, that’s the last time she’s going to be going to the alien bar and drinking some of that super potent rum that never fails to make her head spin.

She’d just felt… so lonely, last night, watching Alex and Maggie flirt over a pool table, and she’d known that Mon-El, chatting up someone else across the room, would’ve jumped at the chance to be with her, instead, but… he just isn’t the one that’s always been on her mind, lately.

No, that would be the tiny blonde with the huge personality, the boss that had walked out of CatCo and left Kara behind, and –

Oh.

No.

Oh, Rao.

Memories from the previous night wash over her like a rainstorm – she remembers thinking of Cat, wishing that Cat were there beside her,remembers pulling out her phone and thoughtlessly dialling Cat’s number, and she’d answered, and Kara had probably said, oh, no, so many things that she absolutely should not have, and –

“Oh, good.” A voice speaks, and Kara whirls around (a terrible decision, in hindsight, because her stomach roils and if this is what a hangover feels like then Kara’s never drinking again), to find Cat sitting at a small table a few feet away from the bed, wrapped in a ridiculously fluffy robe and lifting a mug of coffee to her lips. “You’re awake.”

“I…” Kara trails off, mind going blank at the sight of Cat Grant, in all her glory, illuminated by the morning sunlight streaming in through the balcony doors behind her, face bare of make-up, vulnerable in a way she’s never allowed herself to be in-front of Kara, before, and Kara thinks she’s the most remarkable thing she’s ever seen. “I am so sorry.”

“Oh, so you do remember?” Cat quirks a single eyebrow upwards as she puts down the tablet she’d been reading from and stretches to lean back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and Kara can’t help but let her gaze flutter down to the exposed skin of Cat’s thigh, left bare as the robe rides up her leg. “I wasn’t sure if you were blackout drunk, or just regular drunk.” Cat doesn’t sound impressed, and Kara winces at her tone of her voice. “Also, your phone has been buzzing non-stop for the past two hours. At least, I think it’s your phone.” Cat’s eyes flicker towards the supersuit, discarded on the floor, and Kara looks at it with growing horror. “I assume it’s hidden in a pocket somewhere.”

“Um…” Kara can only look at her suit for one long, dumb, moment, and Cat heaves a heavy sigh.

“I swear to god, Kara, if you’re about to tell me that I imagined you floating onto my balcony last night - ”

“I’m not,” she interrupts, because she knows there’s no point in denying it now. “That’s just… not how I imagined you finding out.”

“Oh, please, I’ve known for months,” Cat scoffs. “You didn’t really think your little stunt double had me fooled for long, did you? Don’t insult me.” Cat sounds annoyed, and really, Kara can’t blame her. “But would you please answer the damn phone before I throw it out the window?”

That snaps her into action, and she climbs gingerly to her feet, wincing as a wave of nausea rolls over her once she’s upright. She grits her teeth and powers through, though, leaning down to snatch up her suit and fishes her phone out of her pocket, sighing when she sees that her sister’s calling her for the twelfth time.

“Hey.”

“Hey?!” Alex answers immediately, voice tight with worry. “Are you kidding me right now? Kara, I thought you were dead.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kara huffs, falling back down onto the bed, wondering where Cat had slept last night – she remembers flashes of the night before, but not everything, and she dreads to think what she’d said to Cat, what got her to fly out here. “I just… overslept.”

“Oh really?” Alex asks, the words laced with scepticism. “Because I’m standing in your apartment right now and you’re nowhere to be found. I didn’t even see you leave the bar last night, where did you go? Are you with Mon-El? I tried him too, but he didn’t pick up.”

“Oh, god no.” Kara shudders at the thought.

“Then where the hell are you?”

“Look, I can’t talk right now, okay? I have… something to take care of.” She flicks her gaze over to Cat, who’s back to reading her tablet, lips pursed as her eyes scan across the screen. “I’ll speak to you later.”

“Kara - ”

She hangs up, cutting her sister off, and silences her phone before tossing it behind her on the bed.

“Do hangovers always feel this terrible?” She asks Cat, knowing there’s a whine in her voice, and she watches as the other woman’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Yes.” Cat sets her tablet down again and pushes her reading glasses to the top of her head. “I’d offer you an Advil, but I doubt they’d do anything for that super metabolism of yours.”

“Probably not,” Kara agrees, with a sigh. “I guess I deserve to suffer, though. After barging in on you like this, and all.”

“Mm.” Cat is watching her closely, pinning Kara in place with the laser-focus of those green, green eyes. “Just out of curiosity, how much of last night do you remember?”

“Um…” Kara trails off, running a hand across her face as she desperately tries to cast her mind back. “Only bits and pieces. I remember calling you, and saying I… I wanted to see you.” She swallows around those words, reluctant to say them aloud, because what a fool she must have made of herself, pining over herboss, flying across the country to see her and forcing her way into her hotel room, and Cat must’ve been too polite to turn her away. “I remember flyinghere, but not falling asleep.”

“So you don’t remember what you said?”

“No,” Kara admits, and something flashes across Cat’s face, too fleeting for Kara to identify. “But I can probably guess. I made a fool out of myself, didn’t I?”

Cat watches her for long moment, and there’s a muscle twitching in her cheek that tells Kara that she’s thinking very carefully about what she’sgoing to say next. “No, Kara,” she says, eventually, her voice soft. “You didn’t.”

“But you’re not going to tell me what I did say?” She guesses, and she sighs when Cat shakes her head.

“I think that would be for the best.”

That makes Kara worry, but she doesn’t press, because maybe she’d made Cat uncomfortable last night – maybe those lingering glances she’d sometimes seen Cat throw her, or the upward tick in her heartbeat whenever Kara stepped a little too close didn’t really mean anything, and Cat doesn’t see her as anything more than her annoying millennial assistant.

“Can I use your shower before I go?” She asks, instead, and she swears that there’s something like disappointment in Cat’s gaze before she nods, and Kara wonders if Cat had wanted, or expected, her to press for further details.

“Of course.”

She escapes to the bathroom and cranks up the heat on the fancy-looking shower within, letting the room fill with steam before she steps under the spray, and it’s hot enough to burn a human but for her it’s just hot enough for her to be able to feel it sink into her skin.

It helps her hangover, her headache lifting by the time she turns off the water, and she’s towelling herself off when the rest of last night’s memories hit her like a train.

“You said we could talk about it in the morning.” Kara’s tone is more than a little accusing as she hurries out of the bathroom, barely rememberingto pull on her borrowed pyjamas before confronting Cat, who stares up at her, an unreadable expression on her face.

“I thought you didn’t remember?”

“Yeah, well, I just did.” Kara folds her arms across her chest and sets her jaw. “And you can tell me that you were just trying to spare my feelings, if you want, but… you told me that I wasn’t barking up the wrongtree, and I don’t think you were lying.”

“Kara…” There’s a warning tone in Cat’s voice, but Kara ignores it, wants to press, wants to know exactly what’s on Cat’s mind.

“Don’t. Don’t just… brush me off. I want you to be honest with me. I need you to be honest with me.”

“Honestly?” Cat asks, tilting her head up to meet Kara’s gaze, and sighing when she nods. “Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about you, either. I left National City to dive, that’s true, but also because… because you make me want things that I can’t have.”

“Why?” Kara falls to her knees in-front of where Cat sits and takes her hands within her own. “You can have me. You’ve always been able to have me.”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat’s eyes are sad as they look down at her, and she lifts one of her hands away from Kara’s to cup her cheek, instead, and Kara’s eyes flutter closed at the contact, Cat’s skin soft against her own. “If only it were that simple.”

“It can be,” Kara insists, leaning closer, so close that she can feel the heat of Cat’s body, so tantalisingly close to her own. “I’m not your assistant anymore.”

“People would still talk - ”

“Then let them,” Kara cuts in, the words confident, because she doesn’t care what people whisper about her when her back is turned, and she knows Cat doesn’t, either.

“And you’re still half my age - ”

“Age is just a number.”

“And I’m about to move halfway across the country - ”

“So we’ll be long distance for a while,” Kara shrugs. “It took me what, ten minutes to fly here last night? When I wasn’t even trying to be fast.”

“And when people start to notice that Supergirl keeps frequenting the same hotel room?”

“I’ll be careful. No-one will see me coming.” She’ll do anything to keep Cat safe; that is something she’s sure of.

“Do you have an answer to everything?” Cat asks, around a laugh, and that’s a sound that Kara would like to hear on repeat every day for the rest of her life.

“When it comes to you and me?” Kara asks, squeezing the hand that’s still wrapped in her own. “Yes. Now, I want an answer from you – do you want to be with me? I know it won’t be easy, and we’ll have to fight for it, but… don’t you think it will be worth it, in the end?”

Cat answers her with a kiss, soft and chaste under the golden rays of the rising sun, and it feels like coming home.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 5: Connected

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

Support me on kofi

No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

_________________

Harlowe looks to her left, over to the driver seat. Calum tugs on the blue baseball cap, readjusting it on his head. The traffic isn’t light, though it’s not as bad as they imagined. Harlowe can see the tension in his jaw. She sighs, reaching out for his knee. The kids are so excited to be going down to Disneyland, as they always are. The flight was good for most of them. Nikau was content to sit in either her or Calum’s lap. Esha and Te Koha slept for a lot of it, and the portion that they were awake for they were overflowing with energy. Harlowe could tell something was going with Calum halfway through the flight. He said it was only a small headache, but it was a lot more. She even said that she’d drive; she had rested longer than him on the plane ride. Calum told her he could handle it. 

At the contact of her hand, he looks over, still pressing the brakes as they are caught in small stand still. Esha and Koha are huddled over one of their portable gaming stations. Te Koha is trying to help her beat a stage boss. Nikau is fast asleep in his carseat.

“Take the next food exit, we’ll grab the kids some breakfast and I’ll take over,” she offers to her husband. 

Calum closes his eyes for a second before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

“Also you’re taking an Advil too. I’m not sure why you refused it on the plane. But you’re going to get around it now.”

Though there’s tension all along his neck, shoulders, and the base of his skull, he chuckles. The brake lights disappear from the cars in front of them. They travel for a couple more miles before Calum sees an exit with gas stations, and some fast food place. 

“This isn’t Disneyland,” Esha states as the car stops in front Hardee’s. 

“Making a small pit stop, baby girl. Hungry?”

“Starving,” Te Koha replies to his mother, laughing. They all unbuckle. Harlowe hands her purse to Calum, with a stern gaze. He finds the small plastic bag in her zipper pocket while she unfastens Nikau, helping him out. Esha steps out of the truck followed by the eldest. The five of them huddle into the restaurant. Harlowe wrangles the kids, figuring what each child wants and then orders two of her order for Calum. 

Calum steps into the bathroom for a second, closing his eyes to try and relieve some pressure from his skull. He didn’t sleep much the night before the flight, nor did he sleep much on it, too tense and too worried that his plan could fall through at any second. He was elated that the kids mostly slept through the flight. Te Koha can keep a secret; Esha cannot. She’s vital to this plan, but if she says the wrong thing too soon, things won’t work out-- not like he had hoped though. 

 He stretches his shoulders, praying at something, anything will do the trick and give him some relief and it does. However, the second he lifts his hand, the pounding in the base of his skill resumes. He groans, but exits the bathroom and sees Harlowe balancing one tray with Nikau on her hip. Te Koha is holding the second one. “I think this one is mine,” Calum teases, sliding the tray from Harlowe’s hand. 

“Why thank you, my good sir. Now if only I could get this baby off my hip who’s very upset to be awake right now, I think we’d be golden,” Harlowe coos, rubbing Nik’s back. 

“I am not a wizard,” Calum returns, kissing her forehead as they settle into a booth. 

“Just my luck, a princess that falls in love with the frog.”

“Daddy’s more a prince charming, Momma,” Esha states with an eye roll. She unwraps her sandwich after rubbing the hand sanitizer thoroughly. 

“Maybe more like Kristoff,” Koha ponders. 

“So no one’s going to say Maui; I’m hurt.” Calum fakes like he’s leaving the booth. Esha grabs his arm, pulling with all her strength. Calum leans back into her gently, spreading his arms out, dramatically huffing. 

She giggles, pushing at him. “Alright Dad, no need to be that dramatic.”

Sitting up, Calum kisses the top of her head, patting Koha on his shoulder. Though it hurts to laugh, he bears through it. It’s worth it, seeing his kids smile and laugh. Especially Te Koha, even if it’s just a small chuckle--Calum will take that over the gloom that had settled behind his boys eyes. Since starting Year Ten, he’s withdrawn a little. Calum prays this trip gives him the much needed rest and a chance to feel like he can open up. Harlowe’s tried talking to him, but Koha usually shrugs, says it nothing. His parents know it’s not nothing. It can’t be nothing with the way he drags out of bed. Not with the way he doesn’t like talking about school, barely wants to stay back for lacrosse practice. Te Koha’ has always been a fairly quiet child, but not this quiet. 

Calum looks over to Harlowe. They are sharing the same thought, the same concern. What is happening with their son? Calum doesn’t want to bring this conversation up right now, not in front of Esha. The two of them are so loving towards each other, but Calum wants to pull his son aside, talk to him in private, just in case it’s too personal. Harlowe doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s forcing or pushing him to talk-- so she keeps quiet-- but prays Koha knows that she’s always there for him. It takes all her strength not to reach across the table and pull Te Koha into her lap, it takes every ounce of willpower not to rock him like she used to do when he was a baby. If only a hug could fix it, she would’ve healed his ache long ago. 

“Babe?” Calum questions, sliding his hand over hers. 

Harlowe glances up from her sandwich, blinking back tears. She hadn’t even realized that she was tearing up, body somehow so lost in her thoughts that the sting never registered, that they blur to her vision hadn’t clicked as her warning. “I’m okay,” she says softly, wiping her nose. 

“Momma?” Nikau questions, holding a round hashbrown out to her. 

Harlowe shakes her head, smiling, “No, eat Nikau. Momma’s okay.”

He continues to hold it out, “Eat.”

“I have my own food, baby.” When Nikau doesn’t retreat with the hashbrown, she bends down, taking hold of it and pressing kisses into his chubby cheeks. “Thank you, bub.”

 Nikau watches her, to make sure she doesn’t sneak it back in front of him. “Welcome,” he smiles--a spitting image of Calum’s. 

“Have you taken your meds?” Calum asks, wrapping his fingers tight around her palm. She nods, her eyes don’t fall to his cheeks. She’s telling the truth. Calum studies her face and watches as her eyes fall to his side of the booth, towards Te Koha. He understands now and nods, rubbing his thumb over her hand. 

Finished with their breakfast, everyone piles back into the rental car, Harlowe in the driverseat. She double checks everyone is buckled, then single Calum’s out. “If I don’t hear snores from you on the rest of this drive, we fighting. I’m pulling over and it’s going to be over for you.”

Calum puts his hands up. “It’s lights out o’clock,” he grins. The tension has faded somewhat, thanks to the water and some food. He can still feel a dull ache. The meds are slowly kicking in for him. Sleep might help; he knows at the very least to try to and sleep after Harlowe’s warning. Even though there’s only about half an hour left in the drive, it’s better than nothing. Reclining his head against the headrest, Calum pulls the hat down even more, to block out the rising sun from his eyes. 

Harlowe gets back onto the highway, noticing some morning traffic up ahead of her. It’s thinning out though, which she appreciates it. Rolling down the pavement, Harlowe nods a long to the song playing from the radio. The back of the truck is too quiet. “Y’all mighty quiet back there,” she teases, glancing back for a second. Not even Nikau is talking. 

“Boss, Ma,” Te Koha responds. 

Harlowe nods with a hum. “Kick their butt,” she laughs. “Go for the kneecaps.”

Esha chuckles. “I wish. But thanks Momma.”

“Anytime, baby girl.”

Esha release a groan, the sounds of furious tapping bleeding in as the song changes on the radio. Te Koha starts talking to Nikau, playing with him before Esha speaks up,  “Ugh, can you do it Koha? My fingers are dumb.”

“You almost got it though.”

“Please?”

“One more try and if you die then, I’ll do it for you,” he concedes. Esha’s whine is cut off by Calum’s snore. Harlowe smiles, pleased at the sound. Esha’s tapping cuts in and out of of the songs and snores. After a few more minutes, cheering starts up. 

Harlowe’s not sure what happening, but she lets out a small, “Whoop whoop” before asking, “Now what are we celebrating? Did you beat the boss, Esha?” Nikau claps, giggling with excitement at the sudden uproar in the car. 

“Yeah, I did,” she cheers a little too loudly and slaps her hands over her mouth. Calum snaps awake. Esha sees his wide-eyed stare. Koha laughs from next to her. “Sorry, Dad,” she whispers. “I just beat the boss. Go back to sleep.”

He nods, before settling back down in the passenger seat. Harlowe, having pressed her lips together, releases her laugh in a short snorts. When she glances back from the rearview mirror to the backseat, Esha’s embarrassment is still clear on her face.  It’s a good thing Calum can fall asleep anywhere and in three seconds flat. Though now after kids, he does wake easily. Harlowe can’t blink in bed without waking Calum some nights. 

The car is silent for another minute or so. “Why do we always go to Disneyland?” Esha whispers. 

“We don’t always go to Disneyland,” Harlowe replies. They do go very often, she’ll admit. But it feels extremely important to go this year after Nikau. They didn’t go the first two years after his birth just because of the flight was so long. His done well on other ones, though they were much shorter. Harlowe and Calum have a special connection to the theme park. It might seem childish, but she loves these trips. 

“We come here a lot,” Te Koha interjects. 

“Papa Bear and I had our honeymoon here,” Harlowe answers, switching lanes before continuing her thought. “I got pregnant with Te Koha before we even got engaged. It wasn’t almost until I was about to deliver that he asked me to marry him. He said, he had been planning to ask months before we even found out. He was just afraid that the kid would make me run off. He didn’t want to ask and then make a fool out of himself. Mind you, I was the one that asked if I could move in with him. That way, he could be as close with his baby as he could be before touring and being a rockstar made him leave. He was so happy to be a father, talked about it every chance he could. Though he wanted to move back to Sydney, he couldn’t do so right away. 

“No this wasn’t my ideal situation, but I was more than happy to start a family. Calum proposed while in the middle of moving me out of my apartment. He was sweaty from lifting and going up and down the stairs. But he had disappeared with some boxes to put into the moving truck for far too long. So when he came back, I could see something in his pocket. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“It was the ring?” Esha questions. 

She nods. “Yeah, I turned around, to point out what stuff was going into the garbage, and what stuff was the last of my things to move. When I turned back around, he was on one knee, holding the box open.”

“Do you remember what he said?” Te Koha asks, looking over to his dad, baseball cap partially covering his face again. He’s always seen his dad as a quiet person, never too emotional, but funny and caring.

“I remember,” Harlowe answers softly. Te Koha has always wondered what Calum was thinking feeling when asking that question. He knows what his dad’s surprise is for his mom, knows how worried he was about everything going off perfectly. To see Calum that worried about something for his mom made Te Koha see how much love is there. Even though they tease each other and the entire family is made up on a lot of sass, there’s so much love. 

“What did he say?”

“Well, one he was a firehose of tears, but he said, ‘I’ve thought about how to ask you this question for months. I’ve kicked myself for not asking sooner. But I love you, I love you and that child you’re growing. I know I said I will always be there, always do whatever you needed me to do. I want to be selfish, I want to do this for me. I want to ask you to be my wife, because I want that honor and no one else. I want my family to be complete, and there’s no one better to complete it with and no better way to complete it than asking, Will marry me, giving me the honor to call you my wife?’” This time the tears are clear to Harlowe as they start. She makes the right turn, onto their exit. She inhales deeply at the memory as it washes over her. 

“Dad’s such a softie,” Esha giggles. “That’s so cute.”

“I’m in the wedding photos though,” Koha probes, needing more details. “I don’t remember it really, but I’ve seen the photos.”

“We didn’t get married until you were about three. I wasn’t in a rush to get married. We had our hands full with you. I couldn’t even think about planning a wedding. The band was releasing a new album about a year after you were born, so I went on the road with them for a few months with you. I thought about just going to a courthouse in one of the cities. But the schedule didn’t really work and Papa Bear was very much against it.”

“I surely was,” Calum states through a sigh. He stretches, a yawn interrupting his next sentence before it can leave his lips. “We had a kid before we even being engaged. I was going to give her the wedding she deserved.”

“But we both agreed on taking a family trip to Disneyland. That was our honeymoon. Even if we did honeymoon with all of Papa Bear’s family, it was a great time. Everything I could imagine,” Harlowe bites her lip, remembering the two days that Joy took Te Koha leaving them to some much needed alone time. 

Calum knows what she’s thinking about and rests his hand on her thigh. High enough to give a hint, but not too high that the kids will say anything. “The wedding was worth the wait right though?” he asks, squeezing Harlowe’s thigh. 

“It was. You did a Haka with your family and Te Koha and I damn near cried.”

“You did cry,” Calum corrects. 

“Ssh, no I didn’t. I got an eyelash in my eye.

“Both of them? At the same time?”

Harlowe pouts, knowing she did very well cry watching Calum and his family members. She swore for a second there, she saw spirits floating above them too while they danced. Calum hasn’t done one since, so she can’t say for sure what she saw or if it was the tears. But watching him made her insides light with a fire. Mali and Joy stood with her, watching as well. Mali was animated, return gestures and faces. Joy held Harlowe’s arm, tears streaming silently down her face. Harlowe was stunned, teary eyed but filled with an eagerness to join in. 

By the end, Joy released her, sensing how badly Harlowe wanted to acknowledge the traditional cry. Mali taught her--it was rushed and not perfect but the two of them chanted and cried back at the group of men. It was seeing the light in Te Koha’s eyes as he danced with his father that got Harlowe, made her want to show her son it’s okay to be proud. That it’s okay to look a little different and still love your roots. Though sometimes Harlowe shouted back in her Native tongue, it was in that atmosphere, amongst spirits of ancestors that the language barrier did not exist. It was the act of souls touching souls--the same tongue was not needed. 

Harlowe pulls into the resort parking lot, wiping her face with her shirt. “I’m turning into the firehose of tears now, shoot.”

After checking in, Harlowe agrees to take the kids down to the pool. Te Koha and Esha head to their rooms to change. Nikau grabs onto Calum. “Do you want to swim, Nikau?” He shakes his head, tugging again at Calum. 

“Aww, buddy, Daddy’s here,” Calum chuckles, picking him up. 

“How’s your head?” she asks Calum. 

“Better, sleep helped. I’ll take Nik for some exploring--just walk around. We’ll meet you at the pool, okay?”

Harlowe nods, kissing her boy’s cheeks, gently nibbling with her lips. He laughs, “Stop, Momma.”

Harlowe ceases, stroking his hair. “Momma loves you.”

“Wove you too.” 

Harlowe changes, taking the two kids down the pool. Calum waits until the door clicks shut before pulling his phone out. There are several texts and phone calls. Calum stands Nikau on the counter top, grinning as the boys dances a little to the ringing tone. 

“Think Momma’s going to like her surprise?” Cal asks his baby boy. 

Nikau nods. “Yes.” 

It takes about twenty minutes to touch base with everyone. Calum packs a little bag with water and some snacks and a change of clothes before setting out on their adventure. Nikau happily trots alongside his dad, pausing only whenever a bug flies by and watching it intensely. Calum only gets stopped once by some fans who ask for pictures. Nikau smiles, and waves at them from his father’s arms. Once they are free from fans, the walks continues and Calum snaps a few pictures of Nikau intently exploring the earth around him. Once the last text comes in that they’ve arrived safely to the resort, Calum heads to the pool. He’ll take them off the resort for dinner, so Harlowe won’t run into anyone before tomorrow. 

At the pool, Calum spots her easily, reclining on the sun lounger, brown skin glistening, proudly wearing a two piece even with the stretch marks from three kids. Calum stands over her, blocking the sun from her way. Nikau attempts to climb up into the seat. So Calum places him next to her. “I was kind of soaking that up,” she retorts, sitting up and settling Nik between her legs. 

“You should be watching the kids,” he laughs. 

She pushes up her glasses, nodding in their direction. “I’m watching them just fine.”

“Momma, look,” Nikau holds up tiny purple blossom. 

“Oh, it’s so pretty, baby boy. Did you find it on your walk?”

He nods. “Yes. Daddy pick it for me.”

“By the time I noticed what he was doing, I just plucked it,” Calum laughs with a shrug. 

Carefully, Harlowe picks up the blossom and notices there’s a small bit of the stem left. “Do you want it in your hair? Or do you just want to hold it?” she asks. 

“Hair,” Nikau replies, pointing to his head. Harlowe nods, reaching into her bag. A clip in her hand and she carefully places it in his hair. It’s a very small blossom, so it won’t be too heavy for the clip. 

Calum looks out to the pool, Esha and Te Koha having a small splash war before he tries to swim away. Esha chases after him. “I think Papa Bear should’ve gotten a flower too. You two could’ve been twins,” Harlowe teases. Calum turns back to her, heart hammering a little. God, even after all these years, Calum still finds himself so stunned by her beauty. He stretches over, kissing her softly. He can’t wait to see her face tomorrow. 

__

“Where are we going again?” Harlowe asks sliding into the cork wedges. Calum insisted that she pack a white dress. She wasn’t sure why initially but didn’t question it too much. She thought it might be a for a themed dinner. But now the day of, she’s not sure that’s it. It was well after park hours. The kids aren’t wearing white, thankfully, because Nikau is notorious for falling and getting grass stains all over himself. He’s dressed in black dress pants and a cute green polo. 

“It’s a show,” Calum explains, leaving the first few buttons of his shirt undone and letting the black tank underneath peek through the navy striped button up. He watches her in the mirror, debating which jewelry to wear. She slides on some gold bangles but leaves it at that. 

“Momma! I need help!” Esha shouts. 

“What’s up?” she calls back, scurrying out of their room towards Esha’s cry for help.

“Zipper,” is the answer. Calum dabs on some cologne, pulling a face in the mirror as Nikau watches from the bed. The baby laughs, falling backwards in his fit of giggles at his father’s wide eyes and pouty lipped expression. 

Calum turns around, tickling the boy. “Silly boy,” he laughs, picking him up and setting him to the floor. Te Koha walks into the room, knocking softly on the open door. “What’s up?”

Koha holds out the velvet black box. “Figured I’d hand that over now while Mom’s busy.”

“Thank you, for helping me a lot. I really appreciate it, Koha.”

He shrugs. “No problem, Dad.” There’s something in the way he stands, Calum notices. He looks to the floor. 

Calum pockets the box. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right, son?” 

Koha nods, picking at his fingernails his gaze is still settled on the carpet. Cal knows better than to push this. He lets the silence linger. Te Koha finally looks up to his dad, noticing the careful slight downturn to his brows. It’s the concern, the want to ask, the need to help, but a fear to push too much. Koha exhales deeply. “Can we talk? Like after the ceremony and everything?”

“Of course we can.”

“Cool, thanks Dad. For being there.” 

“I’ll always be there,” Calum states, gently pulling Koha into his side and hugging him. Koha’s just about staring him eye to eye. It’s terrifying how tall he’s getting. But it’s to be expected. Calum runs a hand over the current hairstyle, a boxtop. “You actually use that oil Mum recommended?”

Koha huffs with a smile, patting down the afro. “Yeah, I did, Dad. I gotta look good for the girls.” He pauses for a moment. 

Calum notices. There’s something else on his lips that he dares not let fall. Calum laughs, slinging his arm around Koha’s shoulders. “Whatever gets you to take care of your hair and shower is fine be me.”

Esha and Harlowe emerge soon after, ready to go. Calum’s already got Harlowe’s purse and the backpack for Nikau with some coloring stuff and a spare change of clothes just in case an accident happens. Though it’s not likely. It’s as the limousine waits in front of the resort that Harlowe suspects for sure that it’s not a show like Calum is trying to pass off. They slide into the back of the car, door clicking close by the driver. 

“What did you do?” Harlowe narrows her gaze at Calum. 

He shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What have you done?” she asks again. Calum shakes his head. She turns to Koha. 

He holds his hands up. “I was only told to get dressed for dinner. I don’t know anything.” She sighs. Of course he’d be a hard one to crack. Too calm under pressure. Harlowe looks to Esha. She’ll give it up. 

“Mom, I may or may not know what’s happening. But if I tell, it’s my life. I like living.”

Harlowe sighs, dropping her head for a second. “Calum you’ve done something and have roped our kids into it. I’ll never know how you managed to keep Esha quiet, but whatever it is, it’s good. Too good.”

Readjusting his hold on Nik, Calum bends down kissing her temple. “It’s just a show and dinner.”

“With a limousine? Baby, I wasn’t born at night, let alone last night.” The drive in a battle of Harlowe hurling questions to get a hint to the truth and Calum batting them down. He’s too damn good at this, at this calmness on top of a lot of panic. With a playful wag of her fist, Harlowe resigns to the drive with no clues. The car tops and from the windows, she can see pink and purple lights. 

The sight catches her breathe in her throat. The door opens and the Sleeping Beauty Castle stares down at her light up in a beautiful purple. Esha and Koka climb out first. Koha takes Nikau as he climbs out and they wait for their parents to exit the car. Esha laughs as her mother’s sobs start up. “Calum, no, you didn’t,” Harlowe cries, climbing at of the car thanks to his help. 

Esha slides her mother some tissue and they lead the way. Harlowe clings to Calum’s arm, whispering over and over, that it’s in his best interest to tell her what is happening. She is a mess though and know the threats are empty, hollow even before she can utter them. They walk through the park, attendants, smiling hard at them. They lead them to the front of the castle. Harlowe sees a crowd already waiting. Her family and his in the crowd. 

They stand in the presence of Calum and Harlowe. Mali hands her a bouquet and note cards. “You’re a mess,” she teases, dabbing under her eyes. 

“Mali, thank you. I can’t stop the tears. You know how I get.”

Fanning her face, Mali clears away some of the mascara that started to run down her face. “It’s alright. It’s why I’m here.” They hug quickly and Mali ducks back to her seat. 

Harlowe glances down to the cards in her hand, they’re her original vows. She gasps turning to Calum who’s still holding onto her arm. “No you didn’t,” she laughs, lightly hitting his chest with the notecards. They talked about renewing vows, but the way Calum asked questions, she always thought it would later. She was okay with that, okay with waiting. But she knew she should’ve listened to her gut when he started asking what she wanted to her new band to look like, what she wanted to put on his new one. All those months ago--that was her warning to what was to come. She thought herself crazy, it seemed suspicious, but harmless enough. 

Calum grins, grabbing onto her free hand. “You’re not a princess anymore. You’re a queen. But I figured you’d appreciate the Disneyland magic for our vow renewal.”

“I love you,” she whispers, kissing him sweetly before they walk down the aisle. Koha stands next to Esha, holding a black folder in his hands. Harlowe looks around to see the grandparents huddled together with Nikau. He waves at his parents as they pass. It’s a moment before Harlowe recognizes the song playing, Work Song, by Hozier as they proceed. 

At the end of the aisle, Harlowe and Calum face each other. Esha holds the bouquet. Koha starts, reading a small speech about his parents love and watching the two of them uplift each other even when things seemed dark. “I wish them many more happy years together. Dad’s been a rock for Mom in her trying times. Mom’s the glue when Dad’s ducktape jobs don’t always work. But they always put us first, and each other above themselves. If that’s not love, I don’t know what else is,” Koha concludes. 

Esha reads next. “I know I haven’t been alive very long. A point Momma likes to make a lot. But even in my eleven years I have watched my parents grow. I have watched them make mistakes, and learn from them. I have watched them roll with the punches. I have watched them to constantly make it through. I have watched them love each other and me, Te Koha and Nikau unconditionally. Mom, I know it’s still hard to let people help you. I know you want to be strong and do it all yourself. You don’t have to. We are here. Dad is here for you. We love you. Thank you for letting Dad help you. Thank you for choosing to love him every day, thanks for loving us. Dad, I know you’re going to have choice words for me bringing this up, but, I am my mother’s daughter.” Calum laughs, with a shake of his head. “Dad, thank you for letting Mom into your life. Thank you for loving her. Thank you for letting her crack you open. Without her, we wouldn’t be here. But don’t think all the work is done. She makes a choice and so do you. Make sure you’re choosing her. We know you choose family every second of every day, but Mom’s, well she was there first, don’t forget to choose her as your wife, not just our mother. You’re going so far. I want a love like yours. Thank you for setting a good example for me.”

Harlowe’s eyes start to swim again with tears at the speeches. Sometimes, she really can’t stop the tears, her eyes become a leaky faucet. Koha turns it over to Calum to recite his vows. “Esha’s a little too on the nose with her speech. I suspect someone read my vows,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow at her. “But, Harlowe, we’ve seen nearly twenty years together. It is by no mistake that I asked you to marry me in the middle of your empty apartment. I promise to be there. I promise to choose you, to choose us, to choose our family. I was wrong then to think it would be an honor to have you call yourself my wife. The real honor is that I get call myself your husband, to have been there for every poem you’ve written, to have gone to the readings I could, to crash your lectures, to watch you grow three beautiful children, to see you raise three amazing people and I get to be right at your side. I will be there for the next twenty years and the next twenty after that and the next fifty after that. I will be there in sickness, in health, for rich or for poor, now, and tomorrow, next week and my next life.” Pulling out the new band, he switches them. “With this ring, I seal my vow to you.”

“God,” Harlowe huffs, fanning herself. “Who’s got the switch to my eyeballs? I’d like to turn them off for now, no more tears,” she laughs. Reading over the vows, she shakes her head. They won’t do. Those are eighteen years old, those are vows from a woman who is entirely different from her now, those are from someone young and naive. She’s older, wiser now. “I vowed to you eighteen years ago, to be there, to support you, to comfort you in wee morning hours, to love you. Those are old. My vows today are to curl up in bed with you at 9 pm, to answer your calls when I get the chance, to listen to you more than I hear you. My vows today to you are to help you raise three kids and not lose our sanity while we’re at it. I vow to love you everyday, to choose to love you, to put blood, sweat, and tears into loving you. I vow to be more vulnerable with you. I vow to lay up on the living room floor after we’ve run our tails off behind Nikau and let you know I still find you attractive, in more ways one. I vow to slow down for you. I vow to nag you to death, but only when you need it. I vow to learn to say yes to help more often. I vow to continue to grow with you. I vow never to be stagnant with you, to always, always grow.”

Esha hands her Calum’s new wedding band. Slipping it out of the box, she takes places the new band on. “With this ring, I seal my vow to you.”

Koha closes his folder. “So, yeah, now’s the part where you two kiss, I guess.”

Calum, with a grin on his face, slides his hand across Harlowe’s round brown cheeks, sealing his mouth over hers. They kiss slow, Harlowe sliding her fingers into the loops of his pants. As they part, she ducks her head into his chest, inhaling his scent, tightly gripping the fabric of his shirt. “I love you so much, Calum.”

“I love you too, Harlowe.”

The reception takes place at the Small World Mall in the park. Music plays, until a drum beat starts up. Harlowe knows that sound; she listens to it when she dances, when she’s homesick for a place she’s never step foot in. She watches Calum, Koha, and even Nikau walks over to the center of the dance floor. Harlowe sees Esha sliding out of her shoes and completes the tiny circle in the middle of the dance floor. Harlowe, who kicked out of her shoes, long ago, dances her way into the middle. The moves are not accurate--she knows she’s doing them wrong. But the music is transporting her, the tall drums stretched with hide make her feel at peace. 

Around the small circle of Calum, Te Koha, Esha and Nikau, her family makes a circle around them. Then a third bigger circle wraps around. And all the while, as the drum steadily rings out, people shouting in different Native tongues, Harlowe bounces on her heels in the center. She hikes the skirt of her dress in one hand, a cry ripping over her throat. She’s not sure where it comes from, who it is for, but it leaves her so loudly, with so much force, she bows. She cannot stand upright. When her eyes open, she knows it’s not tears--she knows it is spirits descending and ascending, meeting in a rainbow above her head. As soul touches soul, there is no barrier here. 

The drumming fades. Calum collects her into his arms, beads of sweat running down her forehead. The circles, rings of connected, physically break, but emotionally and mentally still remain. Harlowe rocks in Calum’s arms, voice gone from all the emotion stealing it. She cries into his chest, only a breathy, “Thank you,” tumbling from her lips. 

Harlowe excuses herself to the bathroom, sweat still rolling down her skin. Calum returns to the table, sitting down next to Koha. He immediately starts to speak. “I know I said I wanted to talk later, but I guess now feels more appropriate,” his son starts. “People are mean, and I know they always will be. But like, it hurts to hear them say stuff about you.”

Calum nods, resting his arm around Koha’s chair. “It’s always hard to hear it about yourself.”

“A lot of people ask me questions about being black and like what’s it like in America and what it means to be Māori too. I don’t mind that, but I hate it when they ask me how does it feel to be white too. Like, as if somehow that part of me erases everything else I am. As if I’m somehow not really Black and Māori too. Like I wish I could show them this, show them how real I am. But I can’t.”

Turning in the seat, Calum stares down at his son. He can’t change what makes up his son, can’t change the way he looks. “Look at me Te Koha.” Koha lifts his gaze from the center of the dancefloor to his father. “You are you; you know who you are. Changing yourself to appease them will only hurt you. What do they want? For you to be darker? Then they will ridicule you for that. If you’re lighter, they’ll tell you you are lying about who you are. They will never be satisfied. The question is are you satisfied with you. Are you happy with yourself? If you can say yes to that, then their opinions don’t matter. This is all easier said than done of course. It takes time to be happy with yourself. But you take it one step at a time. You be happy with the way your hair looks one day. Then be happy with your skin. Then be happy with your nose. Then be happy with your hair and skin. One thing at a time. All the self love that builds, they’re words won’t be able to get in.”

Koha nods. He gets what his dad is saying. But why did life always have to go for the long play? Why wasn’t there an easier solution? “That makes sense. But what do I do for now? That’s a long play; I’ve got issues right now.”

“For now, you live in this moment. You live among your people, your family, the circle of love surrounding you. That’s what you do right now.”

Koha chuckles, staring back out to the dancefloor. “I remember some of the Haka. Not all of it.”

“I’ll put in a special request for tomorrow. A crash course, your Mum will love it.”

Grinning, Koha nods up at his dad. “Thanks, Dad. I’d like that.”

“What else is family for?”

[sweetness47]

Chocolate Almonds

Pairing AU Alpha! Cas x Omega! Reader

@castielspnbingo​ – amnesia

@spnabobingo​ – chocolate/coconut/almond

@spngenrebingo​ – Castiel

WARNINGS: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! Smut, abo themes, knotting, heat, rut, amnesia, angst, fluff

Word count: 1925

It was a horrible weakness, her one Achilles heel, and she always kicked herself for it. Especially when she did midnight runs to the local convenience store. She swore that one day, chocolate covered almonds would be the death of her.

She never heard anything behind her, walking to the beat of her play list, munching on the sweet crunchy chocolate delights. When the hand snaked around her face, cupping her mouth so she couldn’t scream, then another strong arm grabbed her around her waist, dragging her to the nearby alley, where the promise of something horrible awaited.

She managed to get one scream out when he threw her to the ground, but the assailant slammed her head hard against a dumpster, ceasing any more rescue thoughts.

But luck was on her side.

Castiel was walking home from the bar. He was just a regular guy, sort of. A self made millionaire. But he never fell into the rich snob category. Cas was a kind, gentle soul, one that was always willing to get his hands dirty for a good cause.

He heard the scream but only one. He listened, his hearing picking up movement by the dumpster in the alley. Quietly, he went toward the commotion, his gut instincts telling him to check the noise out.

The assailant was surprised as he was viciously pulled from his victim, and flung into a nearby puddle. He looked over at Cas, sizing him up for a takedown. Cas was faster, stronger, subduing his opponent in seconds, then calling the cops to pick him up.

The young woman was unconscious, half naked, but still covered. The bastard who attacked her hadn’t been able to finish what he started, which was good, but she needed care. The gash on the right side of her temple was bleeding and needed to be cleaned and bandaged. Gently, he picked her up and took her to his apartment not two blocks away. He was careful to cover her first, his jacket placed modestly over her ripped blouse. Within 15 minutes, he was crossing the threshold to his penthouse suite, guest in tow.

After she didn’t wake the first time, he phoned his friend Dean, a paramedic, to come and take a look at her. Dean would be able to assess if she needed to go to the hospital. Cas had cleaned the wound and bandaged it, but it had been over 12 hours. After examining the woman, checking her vitals, taking a look at the cut, Dean reassured Cas she was ok. Her body was resting, which was good for her. He told his friend that if she didn’t wake by day three, then he should bring her in, and have her assessed for brain injury.

Ever the gentleman, Cas grabbed a blanket and put it over his guest, and left her a note, and a change of clothes, in case she woke while he slept.

His sense of smell woke him around 7am, the tantalizing aroma of bacon and eggs too good to ignore. He frowned though, momentarily forgetting that he wasn’t alone in the suite. Then he remembered the night before last, the woman he’d saved, an Omega. Getting up, he donned jeans and a tee, ran his fingers through his charcoal black hair.

~~

YN woke up in momentary panic, wondering where she was. Her head was fuzzy, and it hurt like hell. Gingerly she put her fingers to the bandage, wincing as she came in contact with the still fresh cut. She studied her torn clothes, then the blanket and the living room. That’s when she saw the fresh clothes and the note.

Picking up the piece of paper, she read the words:

Hello,

I don’t want you to be scared. I rescued you from the alley two nights ago and brought you to my home. I cleaned and bandaged your wound, and left you some fresh clothes to change in to. They aren’t women’s clothes, but they should do for now.

Please feel free to use the shower located across from the couch where you woke. Also, please help yourself to the food in my kitchen. There’s also coffee in the cupboard and creamer in the fridge. If you need anything just knock on my door. My room is the one at the end of the hall behind where you slept.

Castiel James Novak

She smiled to herself. This man risked his safety to save her? Flashes of a man dragging her to the alley tore through her head. She rubbed her temples gently, mindful of the gash. She wondered if somewhere he kept Tylenol or Advil, cuz she had one massive migraine.

She did find Tylenol, took two, then looked at what the kitchen offered in the way of breakfast. She found bacon, eggs, bread. Perfect. She found a frying pan and spatula, and set to work.

About 20 minutes into her cooking, a rather dashing man walked into the living area, his dark hair freshly slept on, and she had to contain a giggle. It added to the handsome part though. In fact, this man could fall in a large puddle of mud, and still come out looking like an Adonis.

“Morning.” His voice was like honey.

“Hi.” She said, blushing. “I made enough food for two, if you want. I hope that’s ok.”

He nodded. “I did give you permission to eat. So yes, that’s fine. And thank you for the food. it smells delicious.”

She motioned to the dining table, where plates and cutlery had already been set out. She brought over the bacon and scooped some scrambled eggs on to his plate, then onto her own. A plate of toast sat beside the bacon, prompting Cas to grab two pieces, as well as three strips of bacon.

Coffee had also been brewed, and a steaming cup sat by his plate. He brought the hot mug to his lips and sipped. “The coffee’s perfect. Even I can’t get it that good. What’s your secret?”

YN frowned. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I can’t remember my name, the events of last night are hazy, and yet I can cook and make amazing coffee.”

He chuckled at the last part. “I second that. I might have to hire you to make me coffee, and food if this breakfast is any indication as to your kitchen skills.”

It was her turn to giggle. “I might have to take that offer if I can’t remember who I am.”

He got up and moved to the table by the couch. “Your purse remained untouched from what I could gather. It hadn’t been opened. Perhaps this will help.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

She took the black leather bag, and right away noticed the phone with the ear plugs in. She opened the zipper and found her wallet and ID. “Hmmmm, YFN YLN.”

He was intrigued. “YN. It’s suits you. Does it have an address?” she nodded. “Once we finish breakfast, I’ll drive you home if you want.”

They finished eating and cleaned the dishes. Cas grabbed some socks and a jacket, and grabbed a sweater for YN, who’s jacket was filthy from the attempted assault.

The drive wasn’t far, and they arrived at her home within a few minutes. He got out and opened the door for her. A decent sized two story bungalow greeted them, the outside clean and in good repair. The inside was just as stunning, rich dark wood floors, contrasted with a white sofa and loveseat, a very impressive kitchen, bigger than his, and three bedrooms. He had to admit to being somewhat jealous as he toured the home.

“Nice place.” He commented.

“I’m having a hard time believing it’s mine, or that I live alone. This is way too big.” YN walked around, looking at pictures of family she didn’t remember. On the dining table sat a bowl of chocolate covered almonds, and YN absently picked a handful up and began munching on them.

He watched her. “Chocolate Almonds? I remember seeing them scattered around the area where I found you.”

She looked down at the sweet treats, pursing her lips. “I think they are weakness of mine. They are my comfort go to food.”

His deep throaty chuckle had the Omega in her wet with need. And he was starting to smell like Chocolate covered almonds.

God, she was going into heat? With an Alpha nearby she’d only just met, who smelled divine? Shit.

It was at that moment Castiel noticed the stronger scent emanating from YN, and the Alpha in him stirred. She reminded him of a summer breeze, of a field of wild flowers and a hint of honey. She was starting a heat, and she smelled like heaven.

Fan fucking tastic.

Not that they found each other unattractive, but the having only just met made the next sentence somewhat awkward. YN spoke first. “My heat, I’ve never had this kind of reaction around an Alpha before. Your scent, it’s intoxicating. It’s exactly like my favorite candy.” She said, gesturing toward the chocolates.

Cas had the decency to blush. “I’ve never smelled anything so delicious, and especially not from an Omega.”

He growled, reaching for her, and YN didn’t resist, pulling him as he pulled her, their lips teasing, kissing, teeth biting, nibbling. She led him to her room, their bodies crashing together on the bed, hands tearing at each other’s clothing.

“Alpha!” she pleaded.

His response was to shed what remained of his clothes and hers, his hand exploring her body, caressing the soft flesh between her thighs. His fingers dipped inside her heat, moving slowly, and YN moaned, bucking her hips, silent pleading for more. Cas continued thrusting his digits into her, and she could feel the tightening in her abdomen, the build of one hell of an orgasm. It crashed into her like a tidal wave, hard and with enough force to stop a locomotive. She screamed his name, coating his fingers with her juices.

Cas lined up the tip of his hard cock with her hole, rubbing along the slit to gather some of those juices for lubrication. Then he pushed in, one hard thrust to break through the barrier, then stilled, allowing the shock to subside.

When he moved, YN climaxed once again, the pleasure increasing as he pressed forward. The pain had been minimal, and was now forgotten, drowned out by this Alpha. Another wave of erotic pleasure shot through her, two more times in fact, before Cas slowed his movements, feeling his knot swell, then crying out as he spilled ropes of cum inside her, filling her with his seed.

She shook with another orgasm as Cas nuzzled her scent gland, then sank his fangs deep, claiming her as his. She felt her head explode as the venom hit her bloodstream, forcing her memory to surface, remembering everything up to the moment the man had knocked her out.

Cas propped himself on his elbows. “Are you alright?”

She winced. “Yeah, fine now. I got my memory back. It must have been triggered by the amazing orgasms.”

He laughed. “Well, obviously they were healing orgasms. You should have at least 10 per day to keep in good health.”

Both Alpha and Omega broke out in hysterical laughter as they snuggled in the bed together.

@legion1993​

[billyhargroveinaponytail]

Good Ole Dacre Montgomery

Chapter 7: 'I fell victim to the sound of your love'

Songs for this chapter:

'To Build A Home' By The Cinematic Orchestra 'Grace' By Lewis Capaldi

'Waves' By Dean Lewis

The rest of this story:

* https://my.w.tt/i2KaR5fm55 *

-------------------------------------

The smell of pancakes filled the air of Myra's trailer,coming in through the small crack in her door. '11:30am' The bright screen of her phone shinned back at her. Myra moved the cover off her body to realize that she was still in her bathing suit top and shorts. She dug around in her suit case and took out a pair of shorts and her signature bed shirt. She pushed back her bedroom door to see Paisley seated at the dining table with Joe.

"Hey there sleepy head! I decided to invite Joe over for breakfast I hope that's ok with you!" Myra nodded, her head pounding with every step she took. "Why did you let me drink so much?" She groaned searching through the cabinet for a pain reliever. "You needed to relax, you deserved a night to let loose." Paisley gave a warm smile, hoping Myra had forgotten most of last night. Unfortunately Myra hadn't forgotten, the image of Dacre and Liv wrapped in each other's arms stayed burned into her memory.  

"I'm liking the shirt,MJ!"Joe spoke. Myra glanced down at what had become her favorite shirt with disgust. "I'm going to change and go do some laundry, do you need any done?" Myra walked into her room, switching out her shirt with a black hoodie and her slide on shoes. "No I will take care of it tomorrow, you want me to go with you?" Paisley took her empty plate to the sink,rinsing it off. "I'll be fine, you spend time with Joe. I'm going to run to the store and get some Advil too, if you can think of anything you need let me know!" Myra shoved her dirty clothes into a large bag, lugged them down the steps and out of the trailer.

They offered a laundry mat on set in a small building that also contained vending machines with every snack you could think of. Myra luckily brought her headphones so she wouldn't have to socialize with anyone. She inserted her quarters and took a seat, as the machine began to fill up with water. Every song Myra found on her phone happened to be a sad song, so she decided to call her mom instead. The phone rang a few times before a sweet southern voice answer the other line. "Myra!" She spoke in a sweet voice. "Hi mom, how is everyone?"

"We are great! How are you? How are things going? Are you having fun?"

"I am good,mom! Things are going great,I am having such an incredible time, it is everything I have ever wished for!"

"We miss you here so so much! We can't wait for you to come back to visit!"

"I miss you guys too! I will be home for 3 days, while we are on our break, I will make sure to stop and visit everyone!"

"Yay, we can't wait! Your dad says he misses you! Your brother does too, even though he won't admit it!"

"I miss all of you guys too so so much!"

"Paisley's family just got her for lunch I will call you later, sweetheart I love you!"

"I love you too mom!" Myra hung up her phone, she hadn't even realized she was crying until a tear landed on her phone screen,she really did miss her family. The laundry room door swung open and a tall blonde walked in. "Hey you're the girl from the party!" She didn't even have the curtesy to remember Myra's name.

"Yeah, Myra!" She wiped her face of any tears and sat up in her chair. "Yes! Maya!" Myra didn't even have the energy to correct her. Liv was carrying a large pink bag with what seemed to be the entire Victoria Secret store inside. She took over the two remaining washers,throwing her clothes in one and what looked like Dacre's in another. "Listening to anything good?" Myra quickly locked her phone and looked in her direction. "No nothing at all!" She removed her headphones, when Liv flopped down beside her. Liv's phone made a loud alert, she glanced down rolling her eyes and laughing. "Oh guys, they're crazy you know what I mean?"

"You have no idea!" Myra glanced at the time on her washer, wishing it would go by faster. "My boyfriend has been bugging me nonstop this morning, he's so needy!" She turned her phone to Myra to display their messages to her.

Myra swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, fighting back every tear. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Liv spoke,moving her phone back down to her lap. "N-no, I don't." Liv crossed her legs pulling her chair closer to Myra's. "You're telling me with all these cute boys running around here none of them have caught your interest." She looked at Myra in shock.

"One did but that was a mistake." Myra mumbled,glancing up at the machine again. "Well I'm sure the right guy will come around!" Liv scrolled through social media, posting a picture of her and Dacre from the night prior. Liv sighed at the speed the machines were going. "I'm just going to have Dacre's assistant get these and I am going to head back to the trailer. It was nice seeing you, Maya!"

Again Myra rolled her eyes watching the girl leave the laundry room, swaying her hips. A number popped up on Myra's phone that she was unfamiliar with.

"Hey." She spoke in a confused tone. "Hey My! It's Jake! I just got a call from Dacre's girlfriend asking if you could pick up his clothes from the laundry room in about 45 minutes or so. So you've officially set yourself as his assistant huh?"

"No!" Myra spat into the phone, "I am not his assistant, I am an intern here I am helping everyone and I am not getting his laundry!" Jake chuckled to her response. "The honeymoon stage over between you two?"

"Honeymoon stage? There was no honeymoon stage! I was just helping him that is all!"

"Sure,sure, so that's a no on the laundry?"

"Yes that is a no, I have got things of my own I have to deal with!" Myra hung up and dug around in her bag for a book,The Fault in Our Stars. She had folded in the page she left off on and continued from that spot, ignoring the world around her. The sudden buzzing from her phone caught her attention. It was Dacre calling.

Declined. Myra pushed her phone back down inside her bag and continued on her chapter. She had reached the forth chapter when the washing machine notified her it was done. She switched over her clothes and noticed the two machines Liv had been using were done as well. She restrained herself from being helpful and returned to her seat.

"You know the boy dies right? He smoked in the movie."

"It was a metaphor. He put the killing thing right between his teeth, but he didn't give it the power to do its killing." Myra was zoned into her book not realizing who was talking to her. "So you're not going to answer my calls?" Myra glanced over the page to see Dacre bent over at the dyer putting his clothes inside. "There's nothing for us to talk about." Myra raised her book back over her face.

"I need to talk though, I need to apologize and explain things to you."

"There's nothing to explain,it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened." Dacre pulled a chair up beside Myra his knees against hers. "Myra you mean so much to me and I wish I could explain all of this to you, I should have told you before and I screwed up." Myra kept her face into the book to disguise the tears crossing her cheeks. Dacre pushed the book down giving her a faint smile," I care so much about you please understand this.." "Don't you have somewhere to be? Liv must be waiting for you." Myra moved from her seat and inspected her clothes in the dryer. They had 8 minutes left so she stood by the machine,waiting eagerly. "I'm sorry again, please understand. I will see you tomorrow." Dacre pursed his lips for a moment. It was quiet and he looked deep in thought. "Myra," He breathes,approaching her once more. "You looked beautiful the other night. I meant to tell you that but I-uh got so busy and I am sorry. The dress just looked great on you." The loud bing from the dryer, informing Myra her clothes were done, brought her attention away from Dacre. She shoved her now cleaned and dried clothes into her bag and rushed out of the building, not speaking a word to Dacre.

Myra returned to her trailer,making sure to knock before coming inside. "We're decent don't worry!"Paisley rang from inside and opened the door for Myra,taking the laundry bag from her hands. "You doing alright, MJ? You look a little flustered." Myra nodded,choking back tears. "I'm fine! Ready to just relax before the big day tomorrow!" Paisley knew her friend was lying, something had happened but she didn't want to mention it in front of Joe. "Did you get yourself some medicine?" Paisley questioned, placing the laundry bag onto Myra's bed. Myra had completely forgotten, she was in such a hurry to leave the laundry mat. "I forgot, I will be fine. I will get these clothes put away and then sleep some more." Myra collapsed down on her bed, in the pile of freshly dried clothes.

"Joe and I planned on going out, so I will be sure to grab you some, anything else you'd like?" Paisley waited at the door feeling sorrow for her heart broken friend. "I'm alright Pais, thank you." Myra pulled the cover over her legs and surrounded herself with the warm clothes,sighing in relief. Paisley and Joe left out the door, the entire trailer instantly becoming silently. Myra took in a few deep breathes before falling asleep.

The entire day had consisted of napping and eating for Myra, the only productive thing she had done was put the clothes away and that was only because they had lost their warmth. Paisley and Joe returned back, with multiple shopping bags. "M, you awake?"

Myra walked out with her comforter wrapped around her. "Yeah,I'm awake." She took a seat in the booth, noticing Joe's sympathetic look. "I am fine Joe, I promise!" Myra tried not only convincing themselves but also herself.  "I know, I am sorry just worried about you is all!" Joe gave a kind smile, showing that he actually was concerned for his new friend.

Monday morning had come and Myra was ready to take on the world. She felt strong and confident, she knew what she was here to do and she was going to kill it. There would be no distractions, no one was getting in her way. She had taken up the opportunity to work with Joe today, partially to get away from seeing Dacre, but also partially so that Paisley could see Joe more.  

"E Pluribus Unum"  Myra read off the script to Paisley. "That's the title of today's episode,it means one of many." Paisley was a little too focused on the set to even be listening to Myra. "This is insane! It looks so incredible!" Myra walked behind her looking around the room. "The set designers do an amazing job!" Joe joined them wearing his Scoops outfit, this time it was covered in blood and his face was decorated with bruises and gapping wounds. Paisley was taken back by his new look. "aw poor babe!" She brushed his cheek, placing a small kiss on his nose. "You look terrible!" She busted out laughing,along with the others. Joe placed a quick kiss on her cheek before rushing over to his place on set. Sylvia appeared behind the two girls with a big smile. "Good morning ladies! How was your weekend? I saw the live interviews, you did great M!" She spoke with praise. "Thank you, it-it was a great weekend!" Myra gain the courage to form a smile. Paisley agreed. "Are you ready to show us more of your creative directing skills?" Sylvia took a seat in the empty chair closest to them. "Directing skills?" Paisley looked over at Myra confused. "She didn't tell you? She helped create a lot of this scene, she came up with how the whole thing would be set up!" Myra's stomach twisted instantly, she didn't want Paisley to know, what if she hated it? Or what if it was terrible?

"My, you ready on set?" Myra rolled her eyes at the terrible nickname and then nodded to the calling voice. She took out her clipboard and sat next to the camera with the Duffers. "Everyone in places anddd action!"

The large Russian man stood in front of a tied up Joe, pretending to swing his fist into the side of his face.  "Oh," Joe grunted. "That one stung."

"Who do you work for?" The Russian spoke in a thick, rough accent. "For the millionth time, I work for Scoops Ahoy!" Joe pleaded. "Scoops Ahoy!" He tried catching his breath that had been knocked from him. Again the other Russian swiftly punched Joe in the stomach, causing more blood to spew from his face. "What the hell?! Look at my outfit!"

"Look at my outfit!" He repeated. "You think I just wear this!? You think I'm a spy in a sailor's uniform?" Another punch was slammed into Joe's diaphragm, he gasped, beginning to pant. "How did you get here?" The main Russian questioned him. Joe took a deep gasp before replying. "I already told you! I told you before." Joe gasped for more air trying to form a reply. "My delivery didn't come, my friends and I thought that it was left on the loading dock, so we went into the room and it turned into an elevator and then..and then we dropped, next thing we know, I open my eyes, and we're in this..wonderful facility." Joe looked around the empty room, blood pouring out his nose and mouth. "But I swear to god, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You could just let us go, alright? And I am not going to tell anybody about this,okay? Shit happens, life goes on!" He rambled on.

"And uh-uh Ice--ice cream. Ice cream okay? You guys know what ice cream is. Everybody loves ice cream. I don't know if you have Russian ice cream or if that's considered Gelato. I don't know what's what, but whatever you guys want, seriously. USS butterscotch, I mean, you gotta try it. It is out of this world, I am telling ya!" Joe tried to change his tone to convince them. The two solider's began laughing in sync. Joe joined in with them,nervously.  "I like this guy!" The head Russian spoke up from the laughter. "USS...butterscotch." He mocked Joe.

Joe gave a panicked look between the two, waiting to see their next move. The laughter came to an instant halt, the Russian moved his face close to Joe's. "Who do you work for?" He spat.

"Oh come on! No,no! No seriously!" The second soldier moved in close to slam his fist against Joe again, knocking him to the ground. Unconscious Joe was now drug down the hall by the solider's throwing him into the room where at the same time Robin has been tossed in. "Get your hands off me!" She screamed fighting off the two guards carrying her. She was thrown on the ground and quickly got to her knees trying to help her unconscious friend. "Steve? Steve! Steve?" She repeated trying to shake him awake.

The head Russian now made his way into the room, to join the others. "What did you do to him? What did you do?" He smacked Robin across the face, bringing her to join Joe on the ground.

"Put them in chairs."He spoke in Russian to the fellow guards. Robin was brought to her feet and strapped to the chair, while the same happened to a still unconscious Joe. "Steve, wake up!" Robin yelled, her back being strapped to Joe's. Robin grunted as two large straps where wrapped around them, their arms tied together in their laps. "What did you do?"

Joe's head was ripped up by his hair and Robin begin begging the Russian to leave him alone. "Steve,Steve can you hear me?" Robin tried turning to look at him. "I think your friend needs a doctor." The Russian spoke,pacing around the room. "Good thing..we have the very best!" He leaned in close to Robin's face. He turned to face the other guards laughing, but when he turned back to face Robin she spat in his face with anger. The room instantly became quiet as he took a raged look to his face. "You're going to regret that, little bitch!" He gave the others a command in Russian and they left the room together. "Bastard, let us out of here!" Robin yelled at them,exiting the room.

"Help!" Robin yelled repeatedly from the room. "Hey," A groggy Joe spoke up. "Would you stop yelling?" A look of relief came to Robin as she turned to see her friend now waking up. "Steve! Oh, my God!" Robin panted. "Steve, are you-are you okay?"

Joe grunted, taking in a deep breath. "My ears are ringing, and I can't really breath, my eye feels like it's about to pop out of my skull. But you know, apart from that, I'm doing pretty good." Joe's eye was swollen and Myra glared back to see Paisley on the edge of her seat almost in tears. "Well the good news is that, they're calling you a doctor." Robin let out a small chuckle, while Joe glanced around the room. "Is this his place of work? I love the vibe. Charming." Robin laughed more at his reply. "Yeah tell me about it. So, okay, do you see that table over there to your right? No your other right!" Joe turned his head in the correct direction. "Yeah okay, do you see those scissors?"

"Uh-uh" Joe spoke up. "Yeah well, I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there,and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap."

"And I could cut the binds!" Joe spoke finally understand her plan. "yeah and we could get out of here!" Joe nodded his head in full agreeance. "Gotcha,okay yeah we can do that! Those morons. They left scissors in here?"

"Yeah morons, total morons!" Robin laughed along with Joe. "Okay on the count of three,we're gonna hop." She confirmed her plan with him. "Okay, good, hop on three. I gotcha!" Joe agreed, beginning to sway his body.

They both successful jumped into the air together on Robin's count of three. "Okay that worked. All right, let's try again." This time they both counted to three. "Holy shit, this is gonna work!" They both grew with excitement, counting to three again. This time both of their chairs toppled to the ground with a loud bang. "It's okay!" They both lightly chuckled. "Don't cry Robin!" Robin giggled more, showing Joe she was not crying at all. "A-are you laughing?"

"Jesus." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it's just I can't believe I'm going to die in a secret Russian base with Steve "The Hair" Harrington. It's just too trippy,man." Joe spoke in a calm tone trying to comfort her. "We are not going to die, we're going to get out of here,okay? Just- you gotta let me think for a second."

Paisley turned in her seat to see Dacre standing behind them watching Myra smile widely at the scene she had worked so hard on, Dacre looked proud.

"Do you remember,um,Mrs.Click's sophomore history class?" Robin said softly. Joe shook his head in deep confusion. "What?"

"Mrs.Clickity-Clackity. That's what us band dweebs called her. It was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late. And you always had the same breakfast, bacon,egg and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you two days a week for a year." The camera continuously panned back and forth between their faces.

"Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The king of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?" Joe stayed quiet with a look of shame on his face,causing Robin to only let out a small chuckle. "Of course you don't. You were a real asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know." Joe spoke groggy and monotoned. "But it didn't even matter. It didn't matter that you were an ass. I was still..obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretended to be above it all,we still just wanna be popular...accepted."

"If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn't all that great. Seriously, it just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it's all just," Joe scoffed before finishing his sentence. "Bullshit."

Myra chuckled a little at her throwback idea to season 2, when Nancy and Steve broke up.

"But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?"

"I feel like my whole life has been..one big error." Robin replied. They both joined in laughs,agreeing. "At least it can't get any more messed up than this."

"You know, I wish I'd known you in Click's class." Joe admitted to her.

"Yeah?"

"Really, I do. Maybe you could've helped me pass the class. Maybe instead of being here, I'd be on my way to college right now." Joe confessed, the blood now dried around his eye and nose.

"And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet, and I would be happily slinging ice cream with some other schmuck." Robin glanced back at her friend.

"Gotta say, though, I liked being your schmuck. It was fun while it lasted." Joe gave a sweet smile. Dacre still stood behind them watching the scene take place. "What're you doing here?" Paisley questioned him. He moved his head down towards her, his eyes never leaving Myra. "I heard she was working on this scene I wanted to see what she came up with. She's truly amazing at this." He spoke with honesty. Paisley nodded, looking at the scene still continuing. "You really hurt her, Dacre. She hasn't admitted it but, she's my best friend and I know."

Dacre sighed, "I know I did, I screwed up, I should have told her what was going on in the first place. Myra means so much to me I hope you understand this." He glanced at his watch and then to Paisley. "I have got to get going, but please don't tell her I was here I don't want to upset her more." Dacre walked off and Paisley gave a sympathetic look.

Russians rushed onto the scene through the large door,buzzers sounded. "Where were you two going?" The head Russian questions them,clicking his tongue. A bald man in a long,white jacket shook a bottle of blue substance in the camera,while the fellow Russians picked up Joe and Robin off the floor.

"Try telling the truth this time, yes?" The head Russian came face to face with Joe, while the doctor loaded the blue container. "It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful." He ran his hand through Joe's hair, then pressed his thumb into his face wound,causing Joe to wince.

The head Russian nodded to the doctor, he stepped to them as Joe began begging. "Wait a second. Wait. Hold on. Okay! Wait, wait,wait! What is that thing?"

"It will help you talk!" The doctor spoke in a thick accent, gripping onto Joe's head and shoving a fake syringe into Joe's neck. "Did you even clean that thing!?" He screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Cut!" Myra yelled, smiling over at the director. "That was amazing, great job everyone!" The director clapped with enthusiasm.then patting Myra on the back. "You did great!" Myra's face was glowing, at least that is what Paisley said after approaching her. "That was so good,MJ! Aside from seeing my boyfriend get the crap beat out of him, I loved it!" This was the first time Paisley had addressed Joe as her boyfriend and it made Myra so happy. "Boyfriend,huh?" She smiled wide, looking over at Joe talking with the directors then back to Paisley.

"Joe has been nonstop talking about you this morning during makeup!" Mary came over to join them,congratulating Myra on a job well done. "He-he uh, he called me his girlfriend last night so I guess it's an official thing." Joe walked up behind Paisley wrapping an arm around her waist. "You guys over here talking about me?" He looked to Myra and then Paisley. Paisley quickly shook her head no, while Myra blurted out, "Yep!"

"You did an awesome job on that scene,Myra! It was so much fun!" Joe squeezed Paisley in more. "Getting beat up is fun to you?" Paisley raised a brow at him. "I mean you like getting spanked and no one is over here judging you for it!" He smirked down placing a kiss to her forehead, while she shoved her elbow into his side. "There are some things I don't need to know about my best friend and that is definitely one of them!" Myra gagged at the image in her head.

"Are you stopping by to see Dacre's scene?" Sylvia joined the group, a schedule in her hand. Sylvia was unaware how the weekend went and what even happened between her and Dacre.

Both Paisley and Joe looked to Myra for her answer. "No I think I am going to head back to the trailer and work on the next scene a little. You guys go, have fun!"

"If you don't mind would you drop this off at Jake's office on your way back! He needs this so he can turn in your progress report to your college." Sylvia held out a sheet of paper to Myra. She took the paper placing in on top of her others. "Yeah I'll take care of it! You two be safe!" She chuckled, walking in the direction of the Jake's office. Paisley and Joe both waved her off.

The long hallway leading up to his office was brightly lit up and the sound of music left the room through the closed door. She gently knocked but there was no answer, unsure if he heard her she turned the door knob walking inside.

"Jake..Liv??" Myra was traumatized.  

[pasteljeon]

Nymphet Garden 03: Hydrangea (m)

Hydrangea - Hydrangea paniculata is a plant with a wide variety of meanings based on individual characteristics, but every interpretation has one thing in common; it is an emotion from that heart. The myths surrounding the hydrangea contribute to its diverse meanings. In Japan, the flower has a historical tradition linking it  to apologies and gratitude, while more western interpretations deal with negative emotions. Life has given the boys and you hydrangeas, now it is up to the receiver to discover the meaning for themselves.

➟ Based off this request: I’d like to request a multi-part fic with the reader being a solo!idol and the bts boys perhaps being big fanboy of hers? I’d love to see your take on this. I’d love some down and dirty smut too please! from @/stxrlxghtsora

➟ Summary: He was just a fanboy, they got dragged into it, and so blooms your love story.

➟ Pairing: OT7/Reader, non-idol!BTS, idol!Reader

➟ Warnings: *internal panic* dom!hoseok, sub!jin, switch!reader, virgin!jin, nipple clamps, unprotected sex (please use condoms), teasing

➟ Length: 4.5k

➟ In collab with @/sugarcookiesandsins - please give her some love! ♡♡

➟ Notes: SORRY THIS WAS OUT LATE SJHDSK life is chaotic but we hope you enjoy!!!!!

Prologue. 01. Prev. Next (links are still broken, please refer to my masterlist) .

.

. “Thanks for dinner tonight, boys.” It had been a spontaneous decision on your part, but when Hoseok and Jin invited you out with them, you couldn’t say no. Now here you were, in a nice restaurant overlooking Han River, nursing a glass of wine and trying to keep yourself from drooling at the way the boys looked in suits. No one should have the ability to look that good.

“Our pleasure,” Jin said, smiling as he twirled his fork idly. His other hand fingered the stem, swirling his own drink with practiced efficiency, silently making you wonder how many women he had wined and dined before. Even Hoseok looked like he was trained in the art of holding wine glasses, long fingers curving around glass.   

“How’s the studio?” You choked, coughing as you waved off Jin’s concern, dabbing at your mouth before straightening. You looked up to meet the deceptively innocent tilt of Hoseok’s head.

“Are you alright?” The older asked, eyebrows drawing together in worry as he signalled the water to bring some cold water.

“Yeah, what’s wrong, ___?” Hoseok said, eyes wide at the reaction that he caused, but still smiling in mirth at your predicament. It only became wider, when you shot a small glare his way. You knew, that he knew, but if he was going to be playing the long con, then so could you.

Hoseok himself had only found out a few days after, from Yoongi himself. It was no mystery that the two were close, something having to do with their opposite personalities. Still, they knew things about each other that the other 5 had no clue about. It was only natural that Yoongi would spill the beans.

Hoseok had a hunch after seeing the marks against his hyung’s pale skin that the boy had managed to get his dick wet, but he had never imagined that it would be with you. Now he was starting to suspect that your body was also the reason behind the change in Jungkook and Jimin. As aloof as he seemed, Hoseok was perceptive before anything else.

“Nothing. The studio is well. Everything’s coming along,” you said stiffly, managing to bare a polite smile, to which the dancer smirked.

Jin looked between the two of you, confusion painting his expression as he frowned. “What’s going - ”

“Nothing,” this time it was Hoseok who interrupted him. He gave the eldest a reassuring grin. “I was just teasing.”

“I need to use the washroom,” you excused yourself quickly, jerking your head toward the restrooms warningly. Hoseok rolled his eyes but followed soon after.

.

.

.

“ ‘Just teasing’, my ass,” you hissed, digging your elbow into his side. Hoseok whined, rubbing his wound as he pouted at you. “I can’t believe Yoongi told you!”

“I didn’t believe him at first, but now …,” his beam was practically blinding.

“What are you so happy for?” You eyed him suspiciously. The dark-haired male shrugged, shoving his hands into his pocket as he began to make his way to the door. “You’re the one that shoved me into the women’s bathroom, ___. I would’ve thought that you’d be happy about it.”

You spluttered, watching in shock as Hoseok shouldered his way out, the frame swinging shut behind him as you snapped your jaw back.

“Min Yoongi,” you muttered, fists clenched as you brushed yourself off. “You’re dead.”

Deciding that you were taking a tad too long, even as a woman, you glanced in the mirror to ensure that Hoseok hadn’t rattled you visibly, before stalking out the door. Making your way around candlelit tables in your little, black dress, you were the epitome of composed as you approached your prey for tonight.

“Are you feeling better, ___?” Poor Jin was looking up at you, distress clear in his chocolate orbs. You met his gaze, softening as you squeezed his hand, settling back into your seat. “I’m fine. Just needed a quick breather is all.”

You kicked Hoseok’s shin, transforming his chuckle into a groan. Behave, you mouthed. He grinned at you wickedly, but nodded.

To calm your racing nerves, you clasped both hands around your glass before taking a long sip. The fumes hit you hard, and the sudden lightness you felt was most welcome. You didn’t know how many had told others about the rendezvous you’ve had with the boys. You rubbed your temples, the telltale throbbing of a headache forming as you sighed.

Jin shot a quick look at Hoseok, a silent command to explain slipping through. He never used his status as the eldest boy often, feeling it a perverse abuse of power, but he didn’t like the look you had. It was almost like a puppet whose strings had been cut, heavy with the weight of having to lift oneself up from the floor.

Hoseok could do nothing but shrug, trying, once again, to play it off like he didn’t know either. But Jin wasn’t top of his class for nothing. He raised an eyebrow and cranked up the intensity within his eyes. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. In response, Hoseok submitted, motioning to the door as if he would reveal all secrets in the safety of their apartment.

.

.

.

“We definitely drank too much,” you sang, one arm slung over Hoseok - who looked equally smashed - and the other over Jin, who was struggling to support both your weights. He looked exasperated, lips pursed as he helped the two of you hobble across the parking lot to his car.

“Wanna know a secret?” You drawled, leaning close as Jin wrestled to secure the seat belt. Your lips tickled his neck and he backtracked quickly, letting out a soft grunt as he smacked his head on the ceiling in his haste.

“You can’t tell anyone, ok?” You continued, slurring your words slightly. The eldest glanced at the backseat, relieved to see the other man thoroughly passed out and already drooling - over his leather seats no less, but he’d cash that in on a later date.

“It’s about Jungkook. And Jimin. And Yoongi and Namjoon.” You giggled, extremely amused at the situation you had found yourself in, courtesy of the four - or was that five? - glasses of wine you had downed.

Drunk over wine, what a lightweight you were. Jin would laugh if he wasn’t so utterly terrified with the way you draped your arms around his neck; he froze, hardly breathing as you edged closer.

“I fucked them,” you whispered, giggling. His heart pinched slightly, hurt shadowing his eyes for a moment before he smiled at you weakly, unwinding himself your grasp.

“Is that so,” Jin couldn’t help but say bitterly. “Well, I’m sure you all had a good time.” He pushed himself off, shutting the passenger door behind him as he crossed over to the driver’s seat.

He said nothing as he slammed the the driver’s side door shut, stewing in jealousy over the idea that the others had been with you. Yet, he couldn’t help but ask himself what he could offer you. At the moment, it didn’t seem like there was anything.

His jaw was clenched, sleeves rolled up, and through your haze, you were ashamed to have clenched your legs at the sight of his veins, protruding on his arms as he stared determinedly outside.

.

.

.

“You’re angry.” He could tell you were still intoxicated, enough to sound puzzled but sober enough to walk straight. Hoseok was promptly dumped unceremoniously onto the couch, Jin throwing a blanket over him before heading to the kitchen. Not a word was uttered through the entire exchange, you trailing after him.

A bottle rattled, water poured. He slid the glass to you, the small cap containing two Advil pills accompanying it. Your heart warmed. Jin still looked out for you, and he knew it with the way he refused to meet your eyes.

“Why?”

And in all honesty, you really didn’t know. You opened your mouth before closing it, the words you were going to say sounding too shallow for you put out in the open. ‘Because I felt something for them.’ - it was laughably pathetic. What did you feel for the boys?

You were sobering up quickly, your racing thoughts working conjointly with the Advil to bring you out of the haze of the alcohol.

Jin watched you battle with yourself. He felt he had every right to know, but now he faltered, wondering if even you didn’t know why you did it. Still, he was thankful for the silence. He would rather have the heavy atmosphere than a floating lie between the two of you.

Making your way around the counter, you stood in front of Jin. Then you did the only thing you could to properly convey the emotions collecting in every nook and cranny of your body - you pulled him in and kissed him.

Jin’s eyes widened. He could taste the alcohol lingering on your lips as your tongue flicked to meet his. “I - I can’t,” he tore himself away, holding you at arms length as he shut his eyes. “I don’t - I don’t want to be just another one off the list. You mean so much more to be than that. I’m - I’m sorry.”

His fingers were trembling where they clutched at your forearms. You took a step closer, cupping his cheek. “It’s not what you think,” you said softly. “It’s complicated and I don’t want to drag you into it if you don’t want this. But I have to make it clear - I want you, Jin. I care for you - perhaps more than I should. Perhaps even more than my career.”

Your last sentence echoed in his ear over and over, like a broken record. In his blind jealousy, he remembered who you were. You were risking everything you had worked hard for by going through with it all. Then he found himself in awe.

You had already proved to be an overthinker and perfectionist with your dedication to your practice. Yet here you were, taking a million risks for him, for his friends, for whatever feeling it was that drew you to them.

Jin’s silence hit you the wrong way, and you rushed to pacify him. “I promise I’ll explain everything.” You paused, still close enough to lean in for another kiss, but still respectful of his hesitation. You could see it warring against the dark lust in his eyes. From this vantage point, you still didn’t know who would win.

Taking a deep breath, you asked him to let one win. “Do you want me to go?” You were more insecure than you had ever felt in your life. He had seen all your emotions, the first really to not immediately succumb to his attraction for you. You appreciated that, it gave you a chance to think as well about the events of the last few weeks.

Did you feel something? Yes.

Did you regret it? No.

Did they regret it? You didn’t know, and that hurt you most of all.

Jin was still caught up in his war, but he already felt his sanity fray at the seams. It was probably your strategy, he thought to himself: to have your supple body pressed against his, looking up at him with wide eyes he had dreamt of in his most venerable hours.

“Fuck it. Just kiss me.” It was rushed, but firm in its command. He didn’t know what he could give you, seeing as he had never done this with anyone before, but damn if he wasn’t gonna give you his all.

You wasted no time latching onto him with your mouth, entwining your tongues in a dance more passionate than any you had yet learned. Pretty soon, you were lifted onto the counter, dress dangerously riding up the silk of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around Jin’s waist. Locking your ankles, you brought him closer, as you ran your hands over the expanse of his shoulders, and down his back. His arms remained stiff, clueless about what to do.

You pulled away to gaze into his eyes, fingers twisting the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes didn’t stay locked on your for long, opting instead to study the granite countertops or the forgotten water with an intense glare.

“Jin,” you asked tentatively, “Have you done this before, sweetie?” Your voice was soft and comforting. His entire body stiffened under your touch, nervous because the truth had been found out.

“And if I haven’t?” You could tell he was starting to get defensive. It was no secret that he felt insecure about it, but you admired the man.

“If you haven’t, I’d say that I’m proud of you for saving yourself.” In your opinion, it was a loyalty of the purest form: to keep that part for a person you didn’t know anything about. You brushed his bangs away from his face, giving you a clear view of the beauty that was Kim Seokjin. The strong browline above the deepest brown eyes you had ever seen on a man. His full lips that were softer than rose petals carried by a strong jaw that you loved to trace.

He swallowed, eyes shifting downwards as he steeled himself to speak. “I don’t think I need to save myself anymore.” You smiled wider at what he was implying, though you hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“More than anything,” he said softly.

You leaned back in to capture his lips and betwixt teeth and tongue you made a promise to him. “I’ll take care of you baby. You don’t have to worry about the thing.”

Soon enough he felt comfortable to wrap his arms around you, like he had wanted you since he saw you on the stage. He even remembered his first thought about you: you looked like you would give the warmest hugs.

.

.

.

Hoseok woke to the sound of moans filling his ears. It was an odd alarm, but then again he lived with 6 other boys, should it really be that much of a surprise? Then like a bullet, he recognized that no, this was not his couch. Nor were these his pajamas. Observing the room, he realized that after dinner Jin must have come back to drop you off. But then that would mean the moans were coming from…..

His eyes widened, as he bolted upright and half-ran, half-stumbled his way towards the kitchen. His body came to a standstill in the doorway, eyes latched onto where Jin’s hands disappeared under the edge of your dress. He dragged his eyes upward, following the shape of your body, until he found your face, slack with pleasure, as Jin sucked his mark on your neck.

“Just like that honey. You’re such a good boy.” Your words escaped your lips between pants and gasps. Hoseok felt his throat dry up and his pant tighten around his groin. Entranced by the slack look on your face, he moved closer, his dance training enabling him to glide along the floor until he came behind Jin.

You eyes opened for a split second, but it was enough to lock gazes with Hoseok as he laid a hand on Jin’s shoulder. After jumping nearly a foot in the air, Jin turned to see Hoseok behind him.

“Did you find out her dirty little secret, hyung?” Hoseok’s voice was low and deep, sending bolts of energy straight to your core. Jin didn’t respond, still embarrassed at being caught, especially during his first time. Noticing his expression, you hopped of the counter without a word, before going to comfort Jin. Pulling him in for another kiss, you extinguished his nerves.

“I don’t know, Daddy.” You kept your body facing Jin as you spoke to his younger friend. “Is that what you should be really worrying about right now?” You didn’t see his reaction, but the low growl that followed was more than enough of an answer. He wasted no time in grabbing both of you and dragging you to the bedroom at the end of the hall, a lighted sign proclaiming it as yours.

Once inside, you thanked yourself for already preparing for a night in after the dinner. No, you did not plan for them to come home with you, but your preferred ambiance of soft fairly lights and silk sheets set the mood pretty well. As you watched Hoseok strip off his suit jacket and button-up shirt, you were quickly developing a prominent kink for yellow lights over tan skin.

Deciding that he could help himself, you turned to push Jin back on the bed, before crawling up his body to seat yourself on the smooth planes of his stomach. Resisting the urge to grind against him, your fingers made quick work of the small plastic buttons before honing in on the pebbled nipples that had brushed against you multiple times on the kitchen counter. They were blushed pink, and looked oh-so-tasty. Leaning your head down, you pulled on into your mouth, laving it with your tongue before pulling at it with your teeth. Jin arched his back at the feel of your mouth on one of his most sensitive body parts. He was almost as sensitive as Jungkook. Thankfully, you were in your room this time and had access to more interesting tools than a feather. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Hoseok seated at your desk, completely naked, slowly stroking his hard length.

“Why’d you stop baby girl?” He was challenging you to be a brat. You could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted nothing more for you to give him a reason to turn your ass red with his palm. But you were smarter, you knew how to deal with a taunting Daddy.

“Because you didn’t give me permission.” Hoseok felt his jaw clench at the small smile on your face. You had been testing his patience since dinner, and it didn’t seem like you were interested in stopping anytime soon.

“Did you ask for permission?” He raised a manicured eyebrow at your figure. He had been looking forward to this since seeing you at dinner with that dress. You may not have had any plans for a post-dinner workout, but he certainly did.

“Can I play with Jin, Daddy? Can I play with his nipples and make him come while you watch?” You bit your swollen lips in anticipation of his answer.

Hoseok surveyed you, the eagerness glowing in your eyes, and the soft pants that leaked from Jin’s mouth from where he lay on the bed. The dancer nodded slowly, leaning back. “Go ahead, baby. Make him come. But the moment he does, you’re mine.”

You murmured a breathless thank you and turned back to the man sprawled on the mattress. Jin gazed up at you through lidded orbs, and heat pooled at your stomach when you noticed the thin ring of gold, his irises blown out in lust.

“Please,” his voice barely a whisper as you hovered over him, lips skimming his. “Be gentle.”

Your heart swelled at his words, fitting your mouth against his in a silent promise as you ran a hand down his sculpted torso, palming his bulge. Jin moaned into you, eyes flickering as you slid his jeans and boxers off in one fluid motion.

You sat back, playing with the head of his cock as you spoke. “Say ‘red’ if you’re ever uncomfortable or want me to stop. Okay?” He bucked into your touch as he nodded, looking dazed. “Y-yes.”

You reached to the drawer on the right, and Jin let out an audible groan at the sight of what you returned with.

“Do you think you can take this, baby?” You cooed, dangling the nipple clamps in front of him as the chain caught the light, glinting with promises of pleasure and pain. You felt his cock twitch against your stomach. He nodded, slightly nervous, but his trust in you trumped all doubt. Putting one clip in your mouth you coated it with your saliva before spreading the liquid on one hardened peak. He shivered at the feel of the wetness, before moaning when you put the clamp in it’s place. Giving it an experimental tug, you relished in the way he bucked under you, causing some pre-cum to spread itself on your skin with every touch of his member. You put the other on the same way, saliva and all, before moving away to admire your work.

You turned over your shoulder to look at Hoseok, who’s eyes were locked on the clamps, most likely imagining the way they would look on you. You broke Hoseok out of he revere. “Doesn’t he look beautiful Daddy?”

Hoseok nodded in agreement. “He does look beautiful with those, but I think my baby would look even better.” His hand moved a little faster at the image of you spread out in front of him, one of his hands buried in your cunt and the other gripping the metal chain as you screamed in name. One day he promised himself. One day.

You giggled at the praise before turning back to Jin, who had started to moan with every little twitch of the chain. Keeping the chain dangling on your fingers, you moved your free hand down to his erect cock. Gripping the base slightly, you moved your hand up and down, while simultaneously giving the clamps and experimental tug to get him used to the feeling of the tandem feeling.

“Oh fuck.” Jin hissed between clenched teeth, his reactions appropriate considering this was his first time. The stimulation was incredible and he struggled to breathe as the burn began to set in.

“Fuck,” he panted, spine bowing as his eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

“Hm. Didn’t know you were such a masochist, hyung,” Hoseok drawled. Jin whined at his words, his pride warranting a retort but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “Mm,” was all he managed to moan dreamily.

“Gonna make you feel good, baby,” you murmured, soothing back his damp locks reassuringly as he tossed his head.

“P-please,” Jin cried, body writhing as you pulled on the chain lightly. “Please make me come!”

Tears fell down his face at the pleasure of being buried inside you. He knew he wasn’t going to last, so in an effort to get you to move, he grabbed your hips and thrust into you, not caring about the sting of pain as the chain swung with the movement. You threw your head back for a moment, before tugging a little harshly at the clamps. “Patience sweetie.”

Drool escaped the corners of his mouth as he attempted to remain coherent after the way you rocked your hips on his lap. “D-don’t t-t-teas-.” It was a sorry attempt at speech, but who could blame him? He was balls deep in your warm pussy and his nipples were being pulled at.

Deciding that you had done enough for the first time, got up on your knees before slamming back down, shaking the chain that pulled and twisted at pink nipples. You rocked your hips, pressing down with your pelvis every time to make sure he felt maximum pleasure. It wasn’t long before you felt him come, pulling at the chain one last time, to draw out the pleasure as much as you could.

Jin sobbed, the intensity of the orgasm ripping through him as he cummed hard. He swore he blacked out for a moment before he came to, head spinning. His limbs felt heavy and boneless, a loopy smile gracing his lips when gentle fingers carded through his bangs. Delicate fingers massaged his nipples as the clamps were removed and thrown to a corner of the room.

One hand cupped his cheek, a sweet kiss pressed to his forehead. He caught the soft, “sleep well, Jinnie,” just as he drifted off.

.

.

.

Motioning you over, Hoseok spread his legs, head cocked. His length was a dark red, throbbing and dripping with precum. You were practically drooling, steps light as you made your way to him.

He waited patiently, watching you with dark eyes as you gingerly settled yourself over his thighs. You reached down and cupped his balls, weighing them as you bit your lip.

“Do you want all that cum filling you up, baby girl? ” Hoseok murmured, dipping his head as his nose skimmed the column of your throat. Your breath hitched as he pulled you closer, your sex parting slowly as his hardened length pressed against the folds of skin. “Do you want Daddy to fill your cunt till it overflows?” Without any difficulty, your mind brought to life Hoseok's words and you let out a loud moan at the imaginary feeling.

He chuckled darkly against your skin. “Do you like that idea, princess?” His hands danced over your body, making their way towards where your cunt was soaking his cock. Finding your clit, he traced slow circles around it, making you keen in pleasure and grind against him.

He stopped, moving his hand away to pop you on the ass, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at the warmth that bloomed under his finger tips. “Use your words baby.”

You whimpered out, quivering at the throbbing in your pussy. “P-please daddy. Give it to me.” Your words were cut off with another sting on your behind. “Use your words. What do you want me to do?”

“Make me cum daddy. I c-can’t take it. Please. Give me your cock.” Your words came out in a mess of saliva and mewls, body much too on edge to make anything sound coherent.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Hoseok drawled out. He gently got you off of his lap, resisting the urge to his at the loss of contact. “On the bed baby, face down.”

You wasted no time in rushing towards the unoccupied side of your large bed, quickly planting your face on the pillow, as you elevated your ass of Hoseok’s pleasure. You cunt was dripping with your arousal and all of it was on display.

“So beautiful,” he said, almost reverently, and you shivered at the way his large palms ran over the supple flesh of your cheeks.

“But let me make this clear,” Hoseok said through gritted teeth as he sank into your warmth. His fingers gripped your hip, sure to leave purpled galaxies the following morning, though the ache was delectable. His cock stretched you deliciously, and your moans mingled with his harsh panting.

“I don’t,” thrust, “Want to fuck you,” thrust, “And leave you.”

His pace quickened, reaching for his climax as he pounded into you. His tip brushed your g-spot and you cried out as the bed frame shook with every movement.

“Hoseok!” Your voice echoed in his ears, ringing as he came. His arms trembled as he pulled out, hot cum gushing from your pussy as he collapsed beside you wearily.

You raised a hand to touch his cheek, and he kissed your palm tiredly.

“I want to love you,” Hoseok whispered.

“Hyung?”

[queeniewritesce]

Shall We Dance 6/?

Lucy lazily opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light feeling the room, streaming from the beautiful arch windows near her side of the bed. Her head throbbed a little, she felt sore in places that hadn’t been used in quite some time, and she admonished herself for not taking some ibuprofen before falling asleep last night.

She tried to move but a firm hand gripped her waist, keeping her in place, digits digging the soft skin of her tummy. She turned her head, carefully to not worsen her headache, and regarded the sleeping man by her side; apparently, they were both stomach sleepers, arms under the pillow type of people and she wondered if that was uncomfortable for him, as he was not lacking on that department. Like, at all. She giggled quietly at her teenager mentality, studying the beautiful profile of Chris’s face, fingers itching to get closer, to lose themselves in the soft fur covering his jaw, trace the fullness of the lips that had driven her crazy the night before.

Ghost memories heated her skin as she slid out of the bed, padding softly to the bathroom, her thighs protesting the burn his beard imposed upon them, the sensation not dissimilar to the friction the pole created when learning a new move, but much more pleasant. She washed her face and used his moisturizer, the mirror showing her the purple marks he left on her neck and the top of her breasts, hair in disarray, and a small grin graced her face. She had been loved hard, and she reveled in every minute of it.

Lucy glanced at Chris’ sleeping form, grabbing his folded sweater and her socks and quietly slipping from the room, Dodger following behind her.

“Morning Dodger,” the stairs were cold on her bare feet as she descended. She makes quick work of his sweater, smelling the collar and folding the cuffs. She pulls on the thick socks while scanning the living room, locating her purse on a side table and to find a hair tie, tying a messy bun on top of her head. She grabbed her phone, opening the small bottle of Advil she always kept with her to grab two pills and walked back to the kitchen, where Dodger sat patiently by the door. “Listen, I’m not too keen on the idea of the alarm going off when I open that door, so I’m really sorry, but there won’t be any visits outside till your dad wakes up, alright?”

She could’ve sworn the dog ruffed before a small whine escaped him. Lucy spotted the treat jar on the island and gave the pooch two small ones as a peace offering. Satisfied, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and sat on the same stool she had occupied yesterday, unlocking her phone. She sends Penny a quick message saying she won’t be back till later because Chris is taking her to one of the museums and snorts when her sister’s reply is a bunch of eggplant emojis. Siobhan is next and she asks about Morris, quickly retelling what happens without naming Chris and promising to call soon. There’s a message from JP enquiring if Garret’s plan was to propose on Christmas’ Day, and she thinks it’s odd, ‘why wouldn’t he ask Garret directly instead of asking me?’, she ponders and decides to call her brother later. Her last new message is from Sunny, inviting Lucy to stop by whenever she has the chance. She replies explaining they’ll arrive early on the 23rd, maybe she could have dinner with the family that night.

Opening Instagram, she clicks the plus sign, it’s a habit to always post something about the latest football game she attends; a picture of everyone she’s with, a few words about the game and when the Patriots were involved, a sarcastic remark about Tom Brady. She scrolls through her photos and it suddenly hits her she can’t share the incredible day she had yesterday. Not only all pictures feature Chris, either smiling to the camera or in the background, but he’s also in every quip and every joke she can think of writing. Sure, her account was private, but when was the last time she weeded out her followers? She sighs and closes the app, adding the task to her mental to-do list.

“I was about to file for my missing sweater, but it looks so much better on you than it does on me.” Chris’s voice is right behind her and she jumps a little, but she smiles and spins the stool around to look at him. “Even when paired with those goddamn awful socks.”

“I have cold feet.” Her eyes follow him around and she licks her lips at the sight of the half-naked man turning on the coffee maker, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and she is almost certain that is the only piece of clothing he’s wearing.

“I kinda noticed that.” He pats Dodger on the head before disarming the alarm and opens the kitchen door, a very happy dog now bouncing on the fresh snow outside. “You might want to have that checked, I believe they’ve frozen some time ago and you just haven’t noticed.” Chris grins at her indignant face and she scowls at him, trying to elaborate a good comeback when he invades her personal space. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

He’s pressed right at her side when he speaks those last words, tilting her head back and kissing her soundly, the hands on her neck keeping her in place, and does she really need to breathe because she just wants to kiss him forever. Her whole body awakens, his touch moving like lightning on her skin. Her palms sprawl over his chest, fingers combing the short hairs covering the muscles and she’s delighted at the small moans coming from him. Sadly yes, they do need air to live and so they part, foreheads touching, fingers caressing and smiles on their faces.

“I believe it’ll be, yes.” She eyes him as he draws on her skin, following the pattern of the cherry tree branches on her arm, reaching the last flower perched near her inner elbow and she tenses. As wonderful as he is, they barely know each other, the scars on her forearm and wrists are part of the demons that plague her dreams, ones that she’s not willing to discuss. She feels better when his fingers skip the scars, going straight to her palms and tangle themselves with her own, bringing her hand up to kiss the knuckles.

“How about some breakfast?” He offers while his mouth skims over her hands. “There’s this great place right around the corner that serves breakfast till 3 p.m., we can walk over there and get my car afterward, go to the Museum?”

“Breakfast food for lunch?” her stomach grumbles at the mention of food. “I was gonna make a joke about it being so very un-Hollywood of you, but as you heard it, parts of me are already on board with the plan. But I do need coffee first.”

“As milady wishes.” He goes back to find two cups in the higher cabinet, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and setting it all on the island in front of her before seating by her side, “How are you feeling today?”

“I woke up with a bit of a headache, a little sore too, but I took some Advil when I came down, I’ll be right as new in a few hours.” She rests her chin on her hands watching as he scoots the chair closer to hers, knees touching as he runs slow circles on the small of her back.

“I’m sorry about the soreness baby, but damn, it was a tight fit, I almost blew my load when I first entered you, you felt so good.”

He says it like he’s commenting on the weather, not of giving her the best sex of her life. Her cheeks felt warm; the man had no filter, did he?

“It’s been a while since I last fooled around with anyone, it’s been mostly me and my hand for the past twenty months.” Apparently, she had no qualms talking about it with him either. Lucy felt at easy with Chris, from the first time they looked at each other she felt like a missing piece of herself finally found its way home. How would she keep going after today? She shook her head to clear her head, she wouldn’t think about that now. “And you're going around with a large concealed weapon in those pants. How do you get past TSA with that?”

He laughs with a deep bass guffaw, slapping his knee.

“Wanna give me a pat down, Officer Seabrook?” a waggle of his eyebrows had her chuckling before he got serious. “But almost two years baby, are New Yorkers that blind? You look smoking hot, do not give me that look, ‘cuz you do. I’d be following you around like a lost puppy for that ass alone.”

“There were plenty of opportunities, it’s just… It never felt right, I guess? I…” she stopped, unsure about giving up too much of her past. What was with this guy and the need to know all her secrets? And what was up with her and wanting to tell them all to him, hoping he wouldn’t run away screaming?

“Then I’m extremely glad it felt right yesterday. Because it felt right to me too, the moment you walked into that room? I was a goner. You had me at hello and all that shit.” He grinned at her over his cup, but she could tell his eyes were studying her and at some point, they would come back to this conversation.

“And all that shit uh? You’re such a romantic. Wait, the fact that you even know that the movie is awesome enough. It’s one of my favorites”

“Figures you’d have the hots for Tom Cruise being angsty as fuck” He laughed and batted away the packet of Splenda she threw at him.

“Oh shush, he’s not angsty, he’s had a revelation and it’s acting upon it. Plus, the ‘show me the money scene’ is already movie history.”

Chris lets Dodger back inside before grabbing the coffee pot, and he sits facing, a sheepish grin on his face while he poured himself a cup.

“So, if you had to choose, wine or coffee?” he asks as he prepares his drink; three sugars, a splash of creamer.

“Coffee, no doubts about it. I love wine but by this point in my life, I have coffee running in my veins instead of blood. There’s no way I could give the liquid gold up.” She pours half a cup, skipping the sugar and filling the other half of the cup with the creamer.

“What the hell,” he eyes her cup suspiciously, “that is not coffee baby, that’s an insult to anyone who drinks coffee.”

“Says the person who puts enough sugar in his cup to rotten teeth.” She scoffs before taking a long drink. “Delicious.”

“Oh my god, you’re one of those girls.” Chris grabs his chest, pretending it hurts. “You order a PSL at Starbucks.” He finishes with a low, horrified voice, whipping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Lucy was glad she wasn’t drinking when he finishes because she laughs so hard, she snorts.

“One hot, venti, two-shot, almond milk, no whip pumpkin spice latte. I’m a basic bitch who loves her PSL, so sue me.” She shrugs and brings her cup to her lips, sipping slowly.

“I bet the barista knows your name and draws a smile on the damn cup too.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smiled over the brim of the cup, giving a little shrug. “I knew it!”

“There’s a store on the same block of my apartment and it’s on the way to the subway, they’ve been there since I moved to New York, of course they know me by name by now.” Pouring more coffee into her mug, she acknowledges, “This is absolutely delicious though, it’s Hawaiian Kona coffee, right?”

“Color me impressed.” Chris grins, nodding his head. “It’s one of the few things I splurge on, I have the company send a few beans bags every month to wherever I am staying. I refuse to drink the goo they serve at most places when I’m doing press for a movie.”

“You’re a coffee diva.” She states, amused by his confession.

“Some people hate green M&Ms, I hate bad coffee.” He concedes laughing. “I even provide the coffee, it’s not like they have to go and buy it, you know? Just follow the instructions or let my assistant make it and I’m a happy guy.”

“What is that like, having an assistant?” Lucy glances at Chris, untrimmed beard, mussed hair, no shirt, ratty sweats and barefoot. Incredibly good looking, but more of guy-next-door than a movie star, she almost forgot he was more than Garret’s hot best friend.  Their worlds differed so much, she couldn’t imagine having someone on her beck and call, or worst, a publicist. That gave her pause and she pursed her lips in thought while he responded.

“It’s weird at first, someone controlling your schedule, telling you where you need to be and when. But you get used to it so fast, especially since they seem to know exactly what you need and they deliver it, you know? Almost like a superpower, they learn how to read you and anticipate your moods.” Chris pondered and looked away embarrassed when he continued. “It’s… convenient. If you’re not careful you can get lost inside the Hollywood lifestyle, get jaded by the lights and you end up forgetting who you truly are. It almost happened to me once and I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. It’s one of the reasons Tobias stays in Los Angeles whenever I’m here, I can take care of myself, I can be Chris.”

His words reassured her, but one question lingered. He was famous, he had an image to protect. As Samuel clearly reminded her, most people only saw her as a glamourized, overweight, stripper. She turns to face him, “Do I have to sign an NDA? Would pictures of the two of us together be bad for you?”

“What, Lucy, NO.” he shakes his head startled. “First of all, NDAs are ridiculous, they rarely work, I know that first hand. Maybe if you’re into some hard kink sex and doing it with random people, then okay, an NDA would be ideal, but I don’t ask people who I sleep with to sign them. And no, a picture of us together wouldn’t be bad for my image, it might stir some pots because some people believe they can dictate who I date…” Shaking his head, he grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together. “I know we’re still getting to know each other but one thing you should know is that I rarely give a fuck to what the media or the general public think of me. I keep my people close to my vest, I don’t talk about friends and girlfriends in interviews, but that’s because it isn’t anybody’s business what I do on my personal time. But I won’t shy away from being around someone I care about either. If a picture leaks or if they follow me when I’m with someone, I set my publicist on their cases because they are assholes, but the one thing I won’t do is to acknowledge their presence or react to them. It’s what they want, and I learned to tune them out.”

“I’m sorry doing what you love comes with so much bullshit involved.” Her thumb rubbed circles on his palm, in a soothing manner, her free hand combing his tousled hair. “Just so you know, if you decide a week from now that maybe I should sign one of those ridiculous things, I’d do it.”

“Thank you. The fact that you offered is enough.” Chris leaned into her hand, almost purring from the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp. He closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and Lucy wants to save this forever, a perfect reminder of their time together.

He tastes of coffee when she kisses him, molding her mouth over his, dragging her lips sweetly across his own. She tastes like cream when his tongue touches hers, light touches that entice her, coaxing her lips to follow his when he retreats, seeking more, needing more.

The whiskers on his face tease her skin when he drags a line from her mouth to her neck, nipping hard at the pulse point, sucking the skin to sooth the bite. She gasps at how pleasurable the tiny amount of pain feels, fingers splashed on his hair, pulling him back till she devours his mouth, taking the lead.

His hands are everywhere, cupping her neck to hold her in place, squeezing the soft flesh of her breasts, gripping her thighs, finally circling her waist to bring her closer to him, hiking up legs over his, making the sweater she’s wearing ride up, his eyes popping when he realizes she’s not wearing anything under it.

“Such a naughty girl you are baby.” Chris murmurs against her mouth with a grin.

“I’m full of surprises.” She pulls the string securing the pants and it pools on the V of his abdomen, his cock springing upwards to rest against his belly. “I see I’m not the only one not wearing underwear.” Fingernails rake on the hard muscles of his abdomen while her teeth do the same to his collarbone, biting his neck. A thumb grazes the silky skin of his head and he twitches underneath her palm, his soft moans delighting her.

Her sweater is halfway up her body now, a large hand cupping the globes of her buttocks, while the other is busy massaging a hard nipple. Ripples of hot lava dances over her with every pass of his finger.

“I love how responsive you are, how you look ready to cum just with me playing with your tits.” Chris lowers his head to take a hard peak in his mouth when Lucy hears the low rumble of his stomach, making her raise an eyebrow at him. He ignores it and shushes her with a kiss, slating his mouth over her giggling lips, bringing her back to the moment.

A second, louder rumble follows. There is a pause and their eyes open, green meeting blue, mouths pressed together turning to grins before they are both laughing.

“I guess I’m hungry.” He remarks.

“When was the last time you ate something?” a hand smooths down her sweater when she stands up.

“I had a pretty nice snack last night.” A wiggle of his brows had her punching him on the shoulder as she narrows her eyes at him, still laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re such a man Christopher.”

“Glad you noticed babe.” He embraces her, kissing her shoulder. “Come on, we can shower together and save time.”

..__..__..__..__..

Showering together did not save time, she remarks when Chris closes the door behind him. It’s almost noon when they finally leave his house, all bundled up, gloved hands clasped together. There was no snow right now, but it’s supposed to start back late afternoon, so the plan was to be back home before that.

Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. Would he drop her off at Garret’s house after their outing (she didn’t dare call it a date) or would they go back to his place together? Sure, she understood the concept of one-night stands; she’d had her fair share of them but spending the day with one of them was never part of the deal, they had never asked, always leaving her house before the sun was up. In the beginning, she didn’t care about them leaving, her walls kept her safe, away from heartbreak. She had given herself away twice before and she had the scars, emotional and physical, to remind her not try it again.

Being single wasn’t something that bothered Lucy like it had bothered Penny or Siobhan and, unlike her sister and her best friend, she had welcomed it, focusing her energy and passion into dancing. She was proud of what she had accomplished in the last twelve years, the dance studio was thriving, she had made a name of herself and was now giving back to the community as much as she could.

Yet she now yearned for more. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that happened but somewhere in the last six months the feeling snuck up on her and was now part of her daily routine, accompanying her from dusk to dawn. She pushed it aside, tried to bury it under her work but, no matter how late she stayed in her studio, how hard she danced, how tired she was, the loneliness that greeted her when she arrived home made her ache.

She wanted what JP had with Marianna. She wanted what she saw between Penny and Garret.

She had no idea how to get it.

Her eyes glanced over at the man walking beside her. Chris was funny, charming, interested in what she had to say and what she did for a living. It didn’t hurt the whole package was contained inside a sinful body, and boy, did he know how to use that body. She shook her head. This was a one-time thing, it’s not like he would want to see her again.

“We’re here,” Chris announced with a muffled voice, concealed beneath the heavy scarf covering his mouth, pointing to the red stone building that occupied the corner of the block they just turned. “The food here is amazing, you can’t go wrong with anything really.”

Lucy looks up before they enter and sees a neon sign with Mike’s City Diner written on it. The place had an old school vibe, a red, black and white theme that reminded her of the diner in Cooperstown, the one she went to almost every day after school for milkshakes and grilled cheese, or for family breakfast during the weekend. She’s about to ask if he comes here often when his name is called by a pretty brunette wearing an apron with the diner’s logo on it.

“Hi Chris,” the woman is all teeth and pink lipstick when she winks at him. Lucy tries to not pay attention to the way the hand, not coffee pot squeezes his biceps in hello.

“Hi, Corinne. Is my table occupied?” he questioned, removing his winter gear.

“It is, but the booth next to it is free, if you seat turned to the back wall, I’m sure no one will bother you. We’re past the rush hour anyway.” She grabs a couple of menus from the counter and leads them to the very back of the restaurant, away from the windows. “I’ll bring some fresh coffee for you.”

Chris helps Lucy out of her coat and mentions for her to get in first. He slides next to her and wraps an arm around her back, pulling her closer.

“I take you’re a regular?” She asked while reading over the menu.

“Yeah, I come almost every day when I’m not at my mom’s house. I’m an okay cook, but breakfast food is my favorite and I rather not screw it up.” He nods, not even looking up at the menu. “Very kind people, delicious food, most patrons are either engrossed on their food or too deep in conversation to notice me, which is a plus.”

“I grew up going to a very similar diner back home. My friends and I would spend whole afternoons at Patty’s, doing homework and playing the arcade games he’d kept in the back room. He was the sweetest guy, always looking out for the town’s kids, running fundraisers for a neighbor in need… And the food was so, so good.” Wistful eyes looked around the place, taking in the decor and the warm way the waiters would talk to the customers.

Corinne approached with a smoking pot of coffee, sashaying her mint skirt as she did. She poured Chris’s coffee and points the pot to Lucy in question. “Want some, sugar?”

“Please.”

“Alright, you guys know what you want?” she placed the pot on their table, whisking out a white pad.

Chris signaled Lucy to go first and she orders cinnamon walnut waffles with a side fruit, saying no to the meat.

“I’ll have the Dynamic Duo with bacon and scrambled eggs. And she wants cream, lots of it.” Chris says with a teasing smile.

“I can drink my coffee black, you know?” Lucy huffs after Corinne leaves them alone.

“Yes, but do you like it?” He gives her a pointed look, a lone eyebrow raised at her.

That was so unfair, who could resist that damn eyebrow?

“No,” she answers with a pout.

He laughs and steals a quick kiss. “So, no meat?”

“No meat. I can’t call myself a vegetarian because I love cheese and eggs and still indulge in some seafood, but it’s been almost ten years since I decided to stop eating red meat, eight since I last ate chicken.”

“Impressive. Hemsworth is thinking about adopting a plant-based regimen on our next bulk up. We’ve been discussing it for a while.” He plays with the empty sugar packets, sighing. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“Chris, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know the guy, but if he’s your friend I’m sure he’ll understand.” Her hand closes around his, giving it a squeeze. “Quitting anything is hard, my friend Terry has been trying to stop drinking soda since I first met him, sometimes he goes months without a single drop, other times he drinks Coke for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midday snacks.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ve quit smoking maybe a dozen times now. But I pick it back up whenever I’m stressed or if I go clubbing a lot.” He picks her hand up, dropping each finger on the table only to do it again. “I stopped after I broke up with my last girlfriend.”

Lucy pursued her lips. She once had called Penny to see how her sister was doing and throughout the conversation, Penny had been curt with her, until Lucy snapped and decided to end the call. That was when Penny apologized and explained she was mad by proxy because Chris’ girlfriend was being a bitch, divulging personal details about their relationship. Lucy didn’t know the actress was, but she instantly disliked the woman.

“Uh, so maybe a good thing come out of that?” her smile was sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Chris gave her a warm smile. “I was single when I met you.”

“And if you weren’t?” it was a serious question disguised within a light smile.

“Here’s the thing, I don’t cheat. I may be a shitty boyfriend at times, especially with all the traveling and time away from each other, but cheating? That is inexcusable.” His eyes were fixed on hers when he continued and the intensity she found in those eyes made her squirm in her seat. “Had I been dating someone I’d have watched you from afar, cursing whatever deity for giving me a glimpse of yourself when they’d know I couldn’t act on it… The truth is I would have left the game. I was drawn to you like a compass needle is drawn to the north and I wanted you. Anything from the moment we said hello would be considered cheating in my book.”

A flustered laugh escaped Lucy’s mouth; she wasn’t expecting any of what he said, admittedly his stand on cheating mirrored hers but the other half of his speech floored her. Never had a man been so candid in his interest towards her and she was at a loss for words.

She was saved by the arrival of a boisterous man who introduced himself to her as Jay, the owner of Mike’s City Diner. He and Chris shared that typical bro hug after he set down the plates.

“I took the liberty of making your waffle with almond milk when Corinne told me you said no meat.” He had an accent she couldn’t place it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She took a bite of the waffle and moaned at the taste, speaking between bites. “This is amazing Jay, best waffle ever.”

“Thank you. I’m happy you like.” He looked between Chris and Lucy. “It is the first time you bring woman with you. Corinne was… disappointed. I can see why she can’t compete with your chosen fire head. Beautiful woman.”

“Keep it up and I’ll tell Janet you’re hitting on my girl.” Chris pointed his forkful of pancakes at Jay, before popping it in his mouth.

“Janet more prettier than Lucy because Janet is my wife.” Jay grinned at them. “I’ll leave you to your food. Wonderful day friends.”

She busied herself with another forkful of waffles and strawberries, trying not to focus too much on Chris calling her his girl.

“Don’t mind Jay, he’s a flirt. Didn’t I tell you the food was good?” Chris drizzled more syrup on his pancakes. “The man is a breakfast food king if I was a billionaire I’d hire him as my personal breakfast chef!”

“But you gotta eat more than just breakfast though. Who would you hire for dinner service?” she dumped most of the cream in her coffee, smirking when Chris cringed.

“Uhm… that’s a tough one.” He stroked his beard in thought. “Either Tyler Florence or Jeff Mauro… I’m going with Jeff Mauro; I love sandwiches and he is the king. What about you?”

“I don’t even need to think about it, it’s all about the good vanilla and the Italian mascarpone! Ina Garten is the Barefoot Contessa for a reason.” She observed.

“Now that would cost you an arm and a leg.” Chris countered. “And if you want Jeff to go make the cheese in a climate-controlled cave in Connecticut, then you’d be bankrupt by the next dinner service.”

“But she told me store bought was fine.”

“Store bought is never fine.” He gasped in mock horror.

Trying to contain her laugh had Lucy wiping away the moisture from the corner of her yes. “I can’t believe you watch Food Network, Chris!”

“Well, there’s just so many times you can play Boggle while on set. Sometimes you just want to watch something to take your mind off things you know?” He pushed his empty plate away, mirth in his voice. “Plus Chopped is psych! Scarlett, Sebastian and I place bets on our favorites. I usually leave a hundred dollars richer by the end of our marathons.”

..__..__..__..__..__

The Museum of Science was somewhat busy for a Monday since most schools in the city were already off for the Holidays, making Chris lower his cap to cover his eyes as they entered the building.

Lucy’s eyes got big when she took in the place. “Oh my god, this is incredible! It’s almost bigger than the Museum of Natural back in New York.”

“I believe New York has more exhibits but we have more square footage or something like that. They grow everything big in Mass.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it?” Lucy waggled her eyebrows, laughing before grabbing the map she had picked up at the entrance. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“I got us tickets to the Lightning! show at two, the Planetarium at three thirty and the butterfly garden at five pm.” Chris held her hand and lead her to the right side of the building while pointing things up in the map she held. “Maybe we could start with the dinos and make our way back to the red wing for the show?”

“Let’s head downstairs and see the Triceratops exhibit then, they are my favorite.”

“So, you like then horny, uh?” Chris whispered in her ear while they descended the escalator.

“Horny and big boned.” She whispered back with a straight face, a sneaky hand landing on the fly of his pants. “Small boners just don’t do it for me.”

A mother cleared her throat behind them just as they reached the lower level, and they moved quickly out of the way, looking sheepishly at the woman giving them a death glare before bursting into giggles.

“You’re such a bad influence on me.” Chris tutted at Lucy, bringing her close to his side and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“ME?” she protested with a laugh. “I was merely stating the fact that I like big dinosaurs, like a triceratops or a brachiosaur.”

“I’ll show you a brachiosaur when we get home.” He winked at her.

“If I recall correctly, your brachiosaur has quite a thick neck. Can I pet it? Maybe kiss it a few times?” She teased him, rubbing his forearm in a suggestive manner.

“Are you trying to make me pop a boner in public woman?” she saw him discreetly adjusting himself. “Come on, let’s see those dinos.”

The exhibit was fantastic, three full skeletons held the main floor, including a small, unhorned hatchling that made Lucy tear up. They admired the displays, taking turns pointing something they liked and debating which dinosaur would in against various superheroes, in the end deciding Hulk would probably join the dinosaur side, just to even things out. When they got to the T-Rex exhibit, Chris joked about this being Dodger’s wet dream and that he the only reason he wouldn’t steal a bone to take home to Dodger was that it wouldn’t fit inside his house, prompting Lucy to ask about it.

“The whole main floor is gorgeous, but I looooove your kitchen, it’s freaking amazing. If I ever move, I want a huge kitchen just like yours!”

“It was the first room I renovate when I bought the house last year.” Chris beamed. “Every detail, from the island to the fixtures have a history or a special meaning. I installed the backsplash myself.”

“Wait, you did it yourself?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed.

“The backsplash yeah, but I’ve had a lot of help from Dix and Garret during the reno. I also stained the hardwood and installed the mantle over the fireplace.” Chris grinned proudly and pulled up his phone, opening the gallery app and showing Lucy the before pictures. “Dix’s a contractor, damn good one too. We hired a design to come up with a general idea of I wanted and went from there. We’ve finished all the main floor, the master bedroom, and bathroom plus the staircase, but the other three bedrooms, the guest bathroom, basement and the backyard are kind of a mess. We only work on the house when I’m not filming, so it’s going slow.”

They walked over to the entrance of the Theater of Electricity as it was almost time for the show to start, and sat on a backless wooden bench, away from the main area, Chris straddling the bench and Lucy facing him, one leg bent over the smooth surface.

“Chris, the fact that you decided to tackle your own renovations when you could just pay someone to do it for you is remarkable. It speaks volumes of what you are as a person and what you want in life. My dad always quotes, we shape our buildings: thereafter, they shape us. You’re turning that place into a reflection of what you want for you and it shows.”

Chris regarded her for a moment, wistful eyes scanning hers.

“My ma’ always told me something similar before I moved to Los Angeles: whatever good things we build, end up building us. I’ve been trying to live by it, surrounding myself with people that want to build each other up, who share their talents with others in the best way they can. It takes a while to weed out the bad, especially in a place that thrives in being fake. There are many good, hard-working people in L.A. but there are at least three times as fakers and clingers who just want to use you. I love my house there, but sometimes it feels less like a home and that’s especially true now that I’ve bought the condo here. Ma’ was ecstatic when I told her I had found a place here, granted she wanted me closer in Sudbury, but I reckon Boston is a heck of a lot closer than Los Angeles. She helped decorate the living room and the big ass island was more of her idea than mine, but in the end, I loved it.”

“She’s got an awesome taste; I have the biggest case of kitchen envy now. I absolutely adore my apartment, it isn’t small by the city standards, but it doesn’t have much kitchen space. It certainly doesn’t have a big ass island, but it’s home.” She shrugged.

“I remember Penny mentioning you guys are from somewhere upstate, when did you move to New York?”

Lucy shifted in her seat. She would not think about him and what made her move back home.

“Late 2002. I had just gotten back from England; I went through a rough patch for a while and I wanted to start fresh some place where I could lose myself and not worry about everyone from the neighbors to the Mayor knowing your name. So as soon as I could I packed again and moved to New York. My father was supportive, but my Mamma was livid, she didn’t speak to me for a whole month.” she saw the confusion on his face. “That might not sound like a lot, but my Mamma is originally from Trento, Italy. She embodies all the stereotypes of an Italian woman you can think of. Not talking to me was maybe harder on her than it was on me!”

“My mother is like a quarter Italian so I can relate a little when she gets going is you better shut up and listen because she means business.” Chris nodded. He looked her over and Lucy had the distinct feeling he was trying to pierce some of her story together. He was much more perceptive than she initially thought, there would be no glossing over details with him. “England, uh? For dancing school?”

“Yeah… I joined when I was sixteen. Did almost six years with the company.”

He looked impressed. “That’s a whole lot of time dancing. What was the school like?”

“Demanding. We had to be the best one hundred percent of the time, you could lose your spot if you ever slacked on grades or on your dancing. I had a private tutor for classes, so I had no free time until I was finished with their version of high school. Then I got promoted to first soloist when I was twenty, so I barely know any touristy spots in London.”

“I keep wondering why you don’t want to tell me that you actually danced for the Royal Ballet of London and not some random school.” Chris gave her a pointed look and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Your sister is your biggest fan you know? She might have mentioned you danced with them once… or twenty times.”

Lucy looked away, her face heating up. Penny had been so supportive back in the day, even at thirteen, she was Lucy’s most supportive family member, encouraging her older sister to apply to the scholarship, staying in during the weekends so they could practice together. The events that preceded her return to the States still stung Penny and Lucy never thought her sister would look over them to hype her up to her friends.

“I don’t know really, I feel like I’m bragging when I mention their name. And some people look at my body and think ‘yeah right’ because a ballerina is supposed to be always this dainty girl and I’m now the opposite of that.” She waved her hand in front of her body. “I got rather crafty with not saying exactly where I studied, they mostly assume it was just a regular dancing school.”

“People are assholes.” He conceded.

The theater doors opened before Chris could comment further and they were ushered inside after handing their tickets to the greeter. They chose a seat near the middle row, moving all the way to the last seats, Chris pulling his cap down and slumping a little in the seat while everyone got seated around them. When the lights diminished, he righted himself up, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair.

Chris brought her arm over her shoulder, drawing her closer. He leaned into her, whispering in her ear. “I’m sure you were the cutest ballerina ever, but I much prefer the upgraded version of you.”

Even if she had any cute comebacks, and she didn’t, lights went up on the stage and the presenter introduced Professor Lightning, who proceeded to show the audience how Tesla coils worked and how to create lightning strikes at the comfort of their own lab. That was the first of the many corny science jokes of the thirty-minute show and Lucy lost herself in it, along with Chris.

..__..__..__..__..

“Maybe they’ll get it ready before we die, can you imagine it? A holiday trip to Mars?” Chris was walking backward while talking to Lucy, hands waving around in excitement, and she thought he looked like a little kid dreaming about what he’d do when he got older. It was the cutest thing.

They had just left the planetarium wing and they decided to head back down to the Starbucks locates at the atrium for some coffee. Chris had fake gagged when she ordered a Caramel Brûlée Latte and she made a show of drinking it slowly, moaning and making faces to get back at him. He ordered three double espressos in a grande cup, making the barista blink and repeat the order back to him.

They were now sitting by one of the many tables overlooking the Charles River, and Chris was dreaming of spending weekends on Mars instead of down in the Bahamas.

“I guess if you had thirty million dollars you could do it.” She agreed just to appease him. She saw his smile get bigger, probably already deciding which investments he’d give up being in that voyage. “You know, for each leg of the trip.”

Chris dropped his shoulder, defeated. “Maybe I could just go to the moon then. A quick getaway to look at Earth from another perspective.”

He looked serious and Lucy had a feeling he was indeed planning for that excursion.

“Would you really do it?” She inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Hell yes, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d crap my pants while going up but man, that would be so fucking cool.”

Lucy watched as Chris got a dreamy look on his face and she contemplated if he would think she was crazy if she got him a Christmas gift. She just had the perfect idea for one.

“Send me a picture when you get there ok? You’d pay to go, I wouldn’t go even if they’d paid me.”

“Is it the heights?”

“Actually no, I love rollercoasters and I’ve bungee-jumped before.”

“You what?!” He stared at her with wide eyes.

“I did yeah! It’s such a cool experience, I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“You better! So, if it isn’t heights, what is it?”

“I’m terrified of enclosed spaces. I can barely make out off an elevator without going into a mini panic attack.” Her body did a quick shake at thought of being inside a spaceship. “It’s not too much of being in a tight space but I need windows and I need to know I can quickly get out of the situation if the need arises. You can’t exactly do that while going to the moon.”

“I can see how that would pose a problem.” Chris nodded and finished his coffee. “How do you cope with flying?”

“I have a prescription for Xanax, but I try to avoid using it. I rely on lots and lots of distraction.” She picked her up her phone, unlocked and pulled up Spotify, showing him a playlist labeled Flying Sucks, and he scrolled through her picks. “I’m so glad I don’t need to turn off our phones anymore, I have my headphones on and music blaring from the moment I step into the plane.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but how does one go from Chopin to Slipknot in two songs?” He turned her phone back to her pointing from Nocturne op. 9 to Duality.

Lucy cocked her head at him, a grin on her face.

“My tastes are very singular,” she whispers trying to contain her laugh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Chris paused for a bit and she saw the moment he got the joke.

“Did you… Did you just quote Fifty Shades Of Grey to me?” Chris was laughing so hard he dropped her phone on the table, his hand automatically landing on his chest. That was the third time she saw him doing that and vowed to try and make him laugh that hard again, it was the most adorable thing.

A few other visitors turned around startled by the sound of his laugh and Lucy shushed him, ineffectively. She saw a teenage girl squinting at Chris, trying to place the man sitting two tables away from her and Lucy immediately got up and stood in front of him, blocking her view.

“Let’s go, doofus, there’s a very curious teen staring at you and I say she’s seconds away from figuring it out who you are.” She gestured with a thumb to the table behind her. Lucy grabbed his hand and pulled him up, Chris lowering his cap while they left the cafeteria area.

“I still can’t believe you quoted that awful movie at me,” Chris said while tossing their cups on a nearby bin.

“And I don’t understand how you know that line at all.” She pointed at him, waggling her finger.

“They uh, may have offered me the role?” Chris glanced sheepishly at her.

“THEY WHAT?” Lucy shrieked and immediately covered her mouth. Chris pulled them into an empty alcove to get away from prying eyes. “I’m sorry for yelling but what?”

“They offered me the role. Twice. The second time they even threw veto power on whom would’ve play Anastacia.” He shook his head. “It was a hard pass from me. The sex scenes in the book were passable, but the plot felt iffy, very constricted and oversimplified.”

“You’re the first guy I know who actually have an opinion about the plot and do not dismiss it as being mommy porn.” Lucy praised him.

“I make a point of having an informed opinion and not rehash what others think.” Chris nodded. “If that means I have to read a book about kinky fuckery, hey, let’s do it!”

Lucy threw her head back with a laugh and they resumed their walk, discussing their favorite books and authors and soon it became very clear they did not share the same interests. Chris tended towards non-fiction, biographies, science and spirituality books while Lucy rarely picked up something that wasn’t about fantasy, especially vampires and wizards. They did agree on Harry Potter and A Brief History Of Time, so they called it a win anyway.

They circled back to the blue wing where the Butterfly Garden was located when a voice over the intercom announced that everyone with tickets for the five pm showing was now welcomed to enter the Garden, and they quickly made their way there.

They started the tour on the opposite side of the entrance, walking around a path brimming with the colorful wings of the kaleidoscope who lived there. Lucy took pictures of her favorites and marveled at how nature worked, turning into what most would consider an ugly nuisance into such an exquisite animal.

The thick, lush foliage extended all the way to the glass ceiling, the various shades of green a great contrast against the gray skies above. Each section of the garden filled with different types of flowers and plants to attract the butterflies, it was a cacophony of plants from all over the world, turning the area into something quite magical in Lucy’s eyes.

Chris stopped here and there to discuss whatever butterfly they could see, Chris pointing what he remembered of his previous visit and telling Lucy anecdotes of his time there with his family.

“Then he convinced Shanna to lick the picture! So she goes up, takes the mounted frame from the wall and low and behold, licked the fucking leaf!” Chris remembered laughing. “Of course, the moment she lifted the frame a silent alarm must’ve sounded somewhere, and two guards appeared out of thin air… and that’s how the Evans Family got banned from the MOS for six months.”

Lucy wheezed as she laughed, trying to control her breathing. “Poor Shanna! You and your brother were not kind with your sisters uh?”

“We’re vicious sometimes.” He agreed. “But we’re also very protective, I got in trouble once because I bit a guy for pushing Carly off the swing set. Granted I was six at the time, but man, I drew blood and everything! Dad had to pay for his hospital visit and I lost dessert rights for a month.”

He pouted, making Lucy giggle.

“Your family sounds amazing Chris! Are you guys doing something special for Christmas?”

“Mom’s hosting a huge party this year, so the whole family will be there. Lots of Evans and Capuanos, plenty of food and booze, games, I live for those parties, they are my favorite, so much love going on. Big breakfast in the morning, let them go crazy opening presents, then we take the kids sledding or to ice skate on a pond nearby and then we all gather to the party. How about you?”

“That sounds lovely. It’s just the immediate family this Christmas for us. Mamma insists on having all her kids there at least every other year, it’s a deal she makes with all in-laws when they become family.” She paused. Lucy was the only one who had never taken a boyfriend to one of their gatherings. She had mastered the art of ignoring the looks of pity her family sent her way every time she arrived alone, dodging questions about her failed love life now second nature. “We don’t have many relatives in America, mamma being Italian and Dad from Scotland, so we kinda created our own family traditions; we decorate cookies on the 24th, mamma chooses the Yule log, and we sit around talking about our year while listening to the Beatles and drinking wine. Then on Christmas Day we go ice skating, hold the ‘Annual Seabrook Snowman Challenge’, which I suck at by the way, and consume way too much wine and crostoli.”

“I love crostoli, my mom never got the recipe right from her grandma so hers it’s not so great… But I’ll deny it to my grave if you ever tell her I said that.” He tapped the end of her nose, making her giggle. “It’s been such a long time since I had them though.”

“Mom makes a ton of them to give the neighbors as gifts, I’ll save you some and send them back with Penny.”

“That’d be awesome, thank you.” He ran a hand through her hair and brought her closer, intending to kiss her. His lips almost touch her when a group of kids no older than six-year-old breezes by them, screaming ewwww and making kissing noises. “I guess you got cooties.”

They giggle and separate, but he clasps her hand while they toured the winding paths.

Walking further into the garden they got to a small section where hundreds of white or blue butterflies floated over the flowers, enjoying a rare ray of sun that filtered from the glass ceiling above. Chris took his phone out from his front pocket and handed it over to Lucy before embracing her, arms closing around her front and pulling her closer, her back molded to his front. She shivered at the full body contact and had trouble opening the camera app. Searching for the best angle, she took a couple of pictures of them surrounded by the clouds of wings, including one where a blue butterfly sat on Chris’ shoulders and Lucy had a surprised look on her face, which quickly become their favorite.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the museum will close in ten minutes.”

The voice over the intercom made them both jump, and Chris looked at the clock.

“Wow, it’s almost six already?” He looked surprised.

“Are you serious?” Lucy couldn’t believe how fast the day had gone by.

Yesterday had been amazing, all the teasing leading to a frenzied and amazing night of sex but if she had to choose her favorite time with Chris had been today. There were no awkward moments, not long silences where they didn’t know what to say to each other. As much as she was pressed not call it a date at the beginning, there was no denying today had been exactly that. And she loved every second of it.

Now came the hard part, letting go of Chris and going back to her own life.

“At least it’s not snowing yet, roads should be clear.” He talked absently. Chris scratched his beard appearing to miles away from the museum already and Lucy tried not to let it bother her.

The escalator had a line and the elevator was for seniors, pregnant women and people in need of assistance, so they took the stairs, keeping closer to the wall as to not draw much attention.

He picked up her left hand, drawing patterns on her palm before twisting their fingers together while they descended the stairs to get to the garage. Lucy noticed how touch drove he had been the entire day, always reaching out to her, holding her hand while they walked, circling her waist while they waited in line for tickets. It occurred to her he would distance himself from her while they were in public and she understood why he would do it but in a deeper level, she was elated when he didn’t. She thought back to that morning’s conversation; I won’t shy away from someone I care about’, and her heart skipped a beat. Could he care about her in a more permanent way than a one-night stand? She shook her head. No, that wasn’t possible, right?

Then how you would explain your own feelings? Her heart had terrible timing, as always. Okay, so maybe today had been better than good. I was a fucking great day okay, could you at least own up to that? And Lucy couldn’t argue because it really had been that.

At least she’d had the memories of their time together, the last thirty hours had been incredible, and she knew a smile would always accompany those memories, no matter what happened from now on.

They got to the garage after a few minutes, people shuffling around them to get to their cars as quickly as possible. They walked fast, not bothering with their coats, just wanting to get inside his car. Lucy was really looking forward to sliding against the heated leather seats.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” Chris exclaimed pulling her along. His wide stride made her almost run after him, air leaving her mouth in smalls white clouds as she breathed out. He hit his key fob a few meters before they reached the car and engine came to life with a hum. He opened the door for her, and she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before getting inside. Chris quickly went around to the driver’s seat and moaned when the heated air hit his skin. “Oh, much better.”

“Do you think Audi would sell me just one of these seats? The heating at the studios sucks, I’d love to have one of these for my office!” She wriggled happily in her seat.

“Or you could buy a proper office chair that does the same thing?” He pointed at her when he got behind the wheel. Soft jazz music filled the air around them when he turned the key, the melodic sound swirling around them.

“Uhm I could, but then I couldn’t tell people how I convinced fucking Audi to make me a custom chair. Now that’s a story.” She chuckled and turned on her seat, facing him.

“So buy a chair, slap an Audi sticker to the back of it and tell the story anyway, how ‘bout that?”

“Uhm… There’s an idea.”

He laughed. “Why are we discussing this particular one anyway?”

“’ Cuz there’s like a hundred cars trying to leave at the same time and we’re stalling?”

“Such a smart girl.” Chris reached over the console and picked up her hand, playing with her rings. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

He nodded and concentrated on the traffic inside the garage, managing to get out and merge into the exit lane, all with one hand, the other still holding hers.

Why in the world did she say she wasn’t hungry when he asked? She wasn’t, that was true, but they could have gone somewhere to just talk, she could have a few more moments with him and now she blew it. God, she was stupid. She thumped her head in the back seat, cursing herself. Was it too late to say something, hey, changed my mind, let’s go grab a pizza or something.

She kept her body turned to him as he drove, a leg bent on the seat, studying his profile, the little bump on his nose, the mole on his left cheek, how his beard was not dark blond but auburn like Penny’s hair. She wanted to commit it all to memory so she could relive it once she got back home. Maybe daydream about not being a fucking coward and ask him to take her back to his place instead of back to Garrets.

They drove in silence for the next ten minutes, the only sounds inside the car coming from the speakers. He pulled to the curb of Garret’s house and Chris killed the engine, turning to Lucy. She felt the intensity of his gaze while she studied his face, waiting for his final words. This was it. He would thank her for a good time, say she was a nice girl and send her away.

Was it even possible to have feelings for someone you’d met in person just the day before? Maybe it was just some leftover infatuation from the night before? Sure, she had heard of him from Garret and Penny, they were practically his personal cheerleader squad, but meeting Chris had been a whole different experience. She couldn’t remember the last time she’s had so much fun with a man. It wasn’t just the sex, which by the way had blown her mind after twenty plus months of celibacy, but how he’d made her feel like the most important person in the world when he talked to her, how he listened with his whole body, really paying attention to what she was talking about. How he laughed at her jokes, cracking up with that adorable and dorkable laugh of his. He had cut through her walls and her fears with his witty banter and a charming personality and she had been impotent to resist him. She liked everything about him. She was falling for the guy.

No.

She had already fallen.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Stupid, silly girl. Why on earth would someone like him ever want more than a one-time thing with the likes of her?

She screamed at that poisonous voice to shut up, she didn’t want to hear it today. She concentrated on the affirmations Doctor Clark had given her.

She was worth it; she was not perfect but every being deserved love.

She was happy with her body; maybe she wasn’t a size four or even a six, but she was stylish, some days she would be so bold as to call herself sexy.

She was a good person; a loving friend, a kind person, a passionate lover,

She was deserving of love.

She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, willing away all bad thoughts, breathing in and out, centering herself.

Maybe not his love, but he had awakened something inside her, if Captain America himself thought she was worthy of his time, that voice surely must be wrong.

“Lucy?”

She opened her eyes and leaned forward, resting her hand on his knee.

“Thank you for an amazing time, Chris. I haven’t had this much fun in quite a few years.”

She kissed his cheek, lingering just one second more. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she moved to open the door.

“What, no, Lucy wait.” He hit the lock button, breathing rapidly. “Just wait, give a man a moment to breathe, will ya’?”

“Chris?” She tilted her head, watching as he took deep breathes, counting on his fingers while murmuring what looked like affirmations, much the same she did earlier.

“Sorry, I had to run a few scenarios in my head. A trick my therapist taught me for when I get anxious.” He explained, tangling the fingers of one of their hands and pulling her to him, kissing her square in the mouth. “None of that cheek kissing thing alright?” he pleaded when he released her.

“Alright?” she had no idea what to answer so she nodded instead.

“Good, good. We had a great day together, didn’t we?” his free hand reached for a stray lock of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I believe I thanked you for it already.” She looked nonplussed at him.

“That you did baby.” He kissed her again, this time biting her lower lip. “What if this wasn’t the end of that time?”

“Chris?”

“What if instead of dropping you here, you get out, get your bags and go home with me?” his clears eyes shone with hope and he licked his lips, waiting.

“You know we leave after lunch, right, I told you that.” Her heart was speeding up and she was sure he could feel her hands getting clammy. Was he really asking her to spend the night again?

“That would give us more,” he checked his watch, “eighteen more hours together.”

“Are you sure Chris? I’m okay with this being the end of our little rendezvous, I really liked the day we had.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

His smile vanished.

“Oh, unless you don’t want to, I can understand that.” He chewed on his lip, defeated.

“Unlock the door, Chris.”

“Okay.” He hit the button and bowed his head. “Can I… can I kiss you goodnight?”

“Yes, you can kiss me goodnight.” She opened the door but didn’t move, waiting for him to look up. “You can kiss me goodnight after I have my wicked way with you after we get back to your place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I was beating myself up for not saying yes when you asked if I was hungry.”

His face broke up in a huge grin.

“We can eat, then go back home.”

“I just want to spend more time with you, I don’t care what we do.”

His lips were cold when she kissed him, the outside air rapidly entering the car, but neither cared, too lost in each other to bother closing the door.

“I’ll go grab my bags.” She said when they separated.

“Hurry up woman, we have just nineteen hours and fifty-five minutes left.”

She threw her head back and laughed, getting out of the car and running up the stairs.

“Hey Lucy?” he yelled from the lowered window. She turned to him, after knocking on Garret’s door. “I hope you don’t have plans to sleep tonight.”

[toevenexist]

Snow (Prt 1?)

So I am so so sorry for taking so long with this, life swept me up and tossed me about at bit but I’m back and here is a fic that is loosely based on you prompt, but I hope you like it. Let me know if you want to see a part 2.

Prompt: Hey, I really love all your fan fictions. Especially the one where Owen and Amelia are on the plane is one of my favourites. I was thinking, maybe you could write one about when Amelia is staying at Edwards' place and hides. She's getting sick and tries to play down her symptoms in front of Edwards but as it's getting really bad one night and Stephanie fears it might be appendicitis, she brings her to the hospital where of course Owen has a night shift in the ER. I'd really love to read that one.

Masterpost

Enjoy xxx

“Okay, everything is…” Amelia flinched, feeling a stab of pain lurch across her stomach. April looked across the patient briefly, furrowing her brows. Amelia exhaled,  tugging on the hem of her scrub top, “Everything is fine here, so I’m…” Amelia side stepped to the door, running her hand through her hair, she felt hot, flushed. April was about to question her but she ducked out, ambling into the chaos of the main floor of the ER. She ran her eyes about the place, catching sight of Owen leaning over a patient, He began to raise his head and she quickly shifted out of his site, into the hall where she leant heavily against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, muttering “Damn,” swiping the back of her hand across her clammy forehead.

“Amelia,” Amelia was relieved to hear Alex’s voice instead of Owens. She stood up straighter, pushing herself off the wall. “What’s… are you okay?” Alex asked her, placing his hand on her shoulder, looking her over. She smiled tightly, keeping her hand against her stomach, pain rippled beneath it. “I… no, I think I’m sick, I…”

“Do you want me to check you over or…”

“No” She interrupted him, shaking her head. She closed her eyes. “I…” She looked along the hall, remembering that she had come in with Meredith and Maggie. Her stomach cramped again and she winced, pressing her palm against it more firmly.

“I go on a break in 5, I can take you home, to Mer’s?” Alex asked her, leaning down to her height, rubbing her shoulder. She nodded, peering along the hall to the ER. “Alright, meet me at the exit in ten minutes then?” he said, the worry never leaving his face. He brushed her shoulder one last time. She nodded subtly. “I’ll talk to Bailey if you want, saves you having to?” Alex asked her kindly. Amelia smiled thankfully, “Thank you” she said, nodding again.  

Alex strode away, leaving her alone. Amelia pushed off the wall. Making her way to the elevator.

“Amelia,” It was Owen’s voice this time, calling from behind her. Amelia closed her eyes, pausing a moment before turning.

“Hey...er… are you okay?” Owen reached her, and eyed her up and down, gaze pausing at her hand where it rest against her stomach. Amelia dropped it, immediately missing the warmth.

“I… I’m okay, just sick. I’m going home, to Mer’s” she clarified, she still thought of him as her home, and the home they had together. He nodded, eyes darting around her face. She felt a pull there, she wanted to hold him, and he felt it too. The elevator chose that moment to open its doors, and Amelia sank into it, relieved that the temptation to fall into Owens embrace was lessening.

Owen held the door, “Do you…. If you need anything…”

Amelia smiled, “I know” is all she said. Residing in his eyes as the doors closed.

“Maybe you should go up to bed” Alex stood beside Amelia as she sank down onto the couch. She shook her head, tugging on the blanket that sat on the back of the couch. Alex sighed, assisting her, he crouched down in front of her. “Are you hungry, or thirsty? I can make you something before I go?” Amelia opened her eyes, meeting his.

“No thank you” she mumbled, breathing in deep. Alex pursed his lips.

“I’ll get you some water, you should stay hydrated at least, take some advil?”

Amelia closed her eyes, nodding.

She took the pills, downed half of the glass of water and fell asleep as the drug began to work. Alex sat with her longer than his break would allow before leaving, turning on the TV and a couple of lamps as he left.

The lights of the Christmas tree twinkled mutely as she slept, The TV hummed quietly, casting a flickering glare across Amelia’s pale, grimacing face.  A couple of hours after Alex had left Amelia stirred harshly from sleep, groaning, moving her hands cautiously across her stomach, to where the pain spiked sharply at the right side. 

She shivered, not from the cold, but from the pain. Tears welled in her eyes and she inhaled shakily, puffing out a breathe as steadily as she could. Her throat felt dry and she glanced across to the coffee table where the glass of water sat. She looked away from it, deciding it was too far, squeezing her eyes closed.

She began running through all the possible causes of the pain. She depressed her hands against her stomach, feeling pain on the press down and not the release, which told her it was likely not appendicitis, unless it was presenting oddly. She side eyed the glass of water again and decided to see if the pain worsened when moving. 

Carefully, she slid her feet off of the sofa, and hoisted herself up using the back of the sofa, screaming at the tearing pain that ripped through her. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay…” she gasped, clenching her fists around the fabric of the blanket. She hadn’t heard the fist knock at the door. She held her breath, unsure if she had misheard. She heard another clear knock and sighed. Feeling her eyes fill with fresh tears at the idea of getting up to answer the door.  

She stayed put, hoping it was just a salesman or caroller who would go away. But the knocking only got louder and more frequent. Amelia shuffled along the couch, knuckles whitening as she gripped onto it to get herself up. 

The knocking was loud, “Alright” She bellowed, staggering out to the hall, leaning heavily into the wall.

Leaning there she saw and extremely worried, extremely cold, Owen. Snow bellowed at him from behind. He took her in, eyes diving about her figure. 

Amelia sighed, leaning toward the door and opening it without moving her feet. Owen bustled in, cold sweeping in with him. Amelia closed her eyes and received the cold against her flushed skin.

 “Amelia, are you okay, I was knocking for ages?” Owen said, carefully taking off his coat so not to shake the snow onto the floor. Pain twinged in Amelia’s stomach so she replied with a soft groan, eyes closing. She felt Owens cool hands on her and let him guide her, whimpering with every step, back to the couch.

 “Why are you here?” She whispered, grimacing, trying to push Owens hands away as he tried to examine her.

“Mer came to me, asked me to check on you when my shift finished, she’s stuck there tonight, Maggie and Alex too”

Amelia rolled her eyes, and let her head fall back, letting Owen lift her shirt. She prepared herself for pain as he palpated closer to her lower right quadrant, but she still squealed when it hit. He frowned, pulling her shirt down quickly and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead and cheek, 

“Owen…” Amelia moaned, pushing his hand away, “I’m okay, you don’t have to…” her fight faded, pain radiating. 

Owen knelt at her feet and pushed on her boots, and she offered no resistance. He picked up her jacket, pausing with it in his hands, deciding he’d leave her wrapped in the blanket instead.

 “Amelia, come on…” he said, bending at her side, wrapping an arm around her and taking her hand, “No… no… I…” she halfheartedly protested, standing with his help.

“We’re going to the hospital, to figure out what this pain is” he explained walking her to the door, picking up his jacket as they went. Amelia simply closed her eyes, trying her best to ride the pain like a wave. 

“Alright?” He asked her, moving around her and pulling the blanket up over her head, picking up a random coat and wrapping it around her, she noted that it smelled of Meredith. She nodded, helplessly leaning into his side as they moved out into the snow.

“Hemorrhagic cyst” Arizona declared, pressing her lips into a tight smile of sympathy at Amelia’s whine. “I don’t want to operate, but I am going to put you on bed rest for a period of watchful waiting and hopefully it will dissolve on its own, but we don’t want it rupturing. If your pain suddenly increases, I want you back here a.s.a.p, okay?” Amelia nodded, frowning, still in pain.

 “Cold compresses, and hot, can help with pain” Arizona spoke decidedly to Owen, finding Amelia to be too distracted. “Anti-inflammatories should help, and if she’s really struggling, a hot bath can do wonders, but I need to stress the importance of bed rest right now” Arizona spoke to Owen, who sat beside Amelia, nodding.

 “Can we give her anything now?” He asked, running his eyes over her.

“No, no drugs” Amelia retorted, shaking her head.

“Just anti-inflammatories Amelia, nothing else” he assured her, taking her hand. She squeezed it, lolling her head towards him, thankful for his presence, deciding to forget that they were sort of separated. Arizona nodded, leaving to fetch something for Amelia’s pain.

“Are you comfortable?” Owen asked Amelia, sitting at the foot of her bed. She hummed, nodding.

 “I’ll get you a hot water bottle to put on your stomach, would you like a hot drink?” Owen spoke as he tugged off his shoes, slinging them under her bed. 

“Okay” she muttered, meeting his eyes. “Are you staying?... here with me?” she asked him tiredly, a glimmer of hope flashing in her lidded eyes.

“Of course Amelia, as long as you need me” Owen rest his hand against Amelia’s thigh, rubbing softly. 

They heard the kettle tick as it finished its cycle and Owen stood.  “Will you…” he stopped at her words, turning back to her. Her eyes were wide, innocent. “Could you open the curtains, I like the”

“Snow” he smirked, finishing her sentence. He knew that about her; they’d once spent an entire morning at the trailer, in bed, holding each other, snow falling in sheets.

Owen pulled the curtains open and the whiteness of the snowy sky pooled into the room. He stood at the window, looking out. 

“Is it thick?” She asked him, a small part of her wishing she could stand beside him. 

He smiled tightly, “It is, and getting thicker, there’s about a foot of snow” He grinned, turning back to her, “Sledding?” he chuckled. Amelia shook her head, smiling weakly, “Ha ha.”

“I’ll be back in a bit”

“Owen…” she stopped him again. He turned and met her pale blue gaze. “Thanks, for looking after me… I… I really...”

“It’s okay…. I want to” he said, realising his words moments after they fell from his lips. He sat with those words, deciding he wanted her to know… that he wanted to look after her. ‘I love you’ he thought of saying, but didn’t. She knew.

“Thank you” she said again, soothing her hands over where the duvet sat atop her stomach. He smiled softly, nodding.

“I’ll be right back, did you want a hot drink?” he asked again. 

She smiled a lopsided smile and nodded, “please.”

Fin xx

Thanks for reading, reblog and let me know what you think!! xxxx

[they-are-there-upon-his-head]

Hi, I just really need to talk about modern AU great Comet hcs Please love me

an unprompted ask?? for me??? this is the content I signed up for

so yeah i’m just gonna make a big ass list of headcanons lemme know what you think,,, i love modern au so much so this is also a long post beware!!!

these are random as hell but are heavy on the Andrierre, which is good and bad because I love this ship but also I haven’t read War and Peace so some of the Andrey headcanons might be dead wrong

and of course feel free to correct and/or add on to this list! I’d love to hear what you guys have to say about this and I’m always up for talking about Great Comet

so let’s begin

 Anatole is a picky picky picky eater, he’ll only eat very specific things like That One All-Natural Organic Overpriced Brand Of Mac ‘N’ Cheese™

9 times out of 10 Helene is going to or drinking Starbucks

Dolokhov will eat ANYTHING but he still ends up going to Taco Bell way too often

he drinks too much Mountain Dew

Pierre keeps his shirt on at the beach/when swimming

he only leaves the house to walk to the local convenience store and buy snacks, and the liquor store to buy booze

Marya loves couponing

Dolokhov prides himself on his cool sneakers

Sonya plays the ukulele

she wears a lot of scarves and flannel and loves autumn

Andrey owns a lot of soft gray sweaters

Mary has a really old ipod nano that has like ten songs on it but she listens to it and dances while she cleans in the morning when her father is asleep

Helene wears athletic wear (track pants, cool sneakers, etc) for the aesthetic but isn’t much of a fan of working out

Andrey goes for a run every morning

Natasha uses the dog filter on Snapchat way too much

Balaga wears a weed hat and weed socks

there’s a 99% chance Anatole has texted “send nudes” in the last 12 hours

Pierre has a lot of t-shirts with random bands on them

Marya loves strong coffee

Natasha and Sonya share a room that’s decorated with fairy lights

Andrey works a bunch of jobs and has really weird hours

lucky for him, Pierre never sleeps

so they often go to the local diner together at 3am and get milkshakes and cheese fries

Pierre fucking loves cheese fries

Sonya had a weeb phase

Dolokhov is still in the tail end of his emo phase tbh

Anatole secretly loves Buzzfeed quizzes

Balaga is an uber driver

Sonya watches a lot of Food Network and HGTV

Natasha loves The Bachelor

Dolokhov watches roast videos

Pierre once watched vine compilations for 13 hours straight

somehow word got around that Dolokhov secretly has an embarrassing tattoo (something along the lines of “I love my mom,” perhaps?) but when confronted about it he turned bright red and vehemently denied its existence

Helene wears those Aesthetic™ shirts with random French words on them from like Forever 21 or something

Dolokhov wears Timberlands and track pants and snapback hats

he also wears his socks pulled up high like your friendly neighborhood fuckboy

Natasha has worn the same pair of Uggs for a long time

Balaga unironically wears Crocs (often paired with his weed socks and oversized denim cutoffs)

Dolokhov takes snowball fights very seriously

Andrey can drive but he hates doing it

he bikes to work and around the city

Mary also hates driving, but that’s because she’s deathly afraid of it

Pierre bought contacts but never uses them, he just wears his glasses instead

Dolokhov is really into sports, both watching them and playing them

his favorites are soccer and basketball

he forces Anatole and Helene to watch some games with him and they hate it

they just rate the players’ attractiveness instead and end up talking and wolf-whistling over all the commentary

Dolokhov is annoyed by it at first, but always ends up joining in and marveling at the muscles on these guys! look at those fucking biceps

Natasha visits Pierre once in awhile and brings some gifts and food (usually baked goods that her and Sonya make)

they just sorta hang out and talk and eat, sometimes Pierre makes tea for them and they have a little tea party

Pierre’s very awkward but Natasha is good at diffusing the awkwardness, mostly by talking a lot about nothing

one time she convinced him to let her paint his nails and honestly??? Pierre kinda liked it

he wanted to tell Andrey about it but Andrey still doesn’t seem ready to talk about Natasha

Pierre’s ok with it though, he’ll give it time. Andrey will come around eventually.

Mary swears by medicinal teas and herbs for almost every ailment

she also collects flowers and dries them and hangs them in her room

Dolokhov does parkour

Balaga runs a meme account

Marya has everything you could ever need in her purse, including napkins, Advil, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, tampons, pepper spray, tweezers, Beyonce’s entire discography, the whole city of Moscow, etc

Pierre has a lot of books on the French Revolution

one Valentine’s Day, Andrey got Pierre a locket with Napoleon’s face in it and Pierre was so confused until he opened it and he just looked so pained while Andrey laughed

honestly Pierre thinks it was actually really fucking clever and it’s kinda sweet that Andrey noticed how into the French Revolution he was

also, he had never seen Andrey laugh as hard as he did in that moment and that made it all worth it

Pierre’s favorite TV show is Gravity Falls, though Ancient Aliens is a close second

he also watches reruns of Jeopardy a lot and is surprisingly good at it

sometimes Andrey will watch it with him; Pierre gets all the history stuff and Andrey gets more of the pop culture questions

Helene listens to Lana Del Rey, Dolokhov has a soft spot for twenty one pilots, and Anatole is always a slut for some Britney

Pierre listens to Radiohead and other depressing existential indie/alternative rock

Natasha is a sucker for a good love song, Broadway musicals, or any happy boppy pop song tbh

Sonya loves folk music and anything with string instruments

Andrey is partial to some good 90s grunge rock (Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Weezer, etc)

Marya listens to pop music of the 70s and 80s music, stuff of the “good old days”

boy oh boy can she GET DOWN to Dancing Queen

Mary thoroughly enjoys Christian rock

Andrey secretly loves to dance, he’s one of those people that just kind of loses himself in the music and is just completely in the zone while dancing

honestly??? Pierre’s jealous because 1. how do you relax while there are people around you and 2. how the hell does Andrey still look cool

Pierre is either too self-conscious to dance or he just kind of nods his head to the beat, that’s all he’ll do

(unless he’s alone in which case it’s WILD)

Dolokhov’s dancing is basically just jumping with some fancy footwork once in awhile

Anatole and Helene twerk. c’mon of course they do

one time Natasha tried to teach herself how to twerk and Marya walked in and grounded her for a week

Pierre thinks The Shawshank Redemption is the pinnacle of cinema and will fight anyone who thinks otherwise

Natasha sings in the shower

Anatole loves chick flicks and has a crush on Ryan Gosling

he forces Dolokhov to watch shitty romcoms with him as revenge for Dolokhov forcing him to watch sports

but I mean they’re all curled up on the couch with their arms around each other and Anatole’s crying and Dolokhov’s laughing at him and they’re eating ice cream and takeout from the one place that Anatole actually likes and it’s just them because Helene’s knows that this is just Too Much™ so she left and she’s basically the voice of reason in their friend group and it’s really quite the experience

Pierre was in a really shitty cover band in college

Balaga is always high

Sonya loves oversized sweaters and leggings

Dolokhov has his ears pierced

Helene has a nose ring

not a day goes by when Anatole doesn’t quote Mean Girls

Mary owns a lot of those wooden blocks with random little quotes on them (you know the ones – they’re in any given Marshalls and dearly beloved by suburban wine moms), like “Be happy” and “Jesus loves you” and “You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy chocolate”

one of Andrey’s many jobs is waiting tables at Applebee’s. Pierre has visited him there a couple times and boy did Andrey look dead inside

the only reason Andrey works so many jobs is so he can afford his own place because his father is a piece of shit

Pierre offered to help with the financial aspect of it but Andrey wouldn’t let him pay for it

still, Andrey ends up sleeping over Pierre’s a lot, not that Pierre minds

Old Prince Bolkonsky exclusively watches FOX news and he yells at the TV a lot

he eats the same thing for lunch every day: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he makes Mary prepare

fun fact: Mary is allergic to peanuts

Sonya works at an ice cream parlor and brings home desserts for Natasha and Marya

Marya loves chocolate ice cream, Natasha prefers vanilla with rainbow sprinkles

Sonya is a butter pecan kind of girl, if we’re getting into it (and we are)

Anatole likes French vanilla (it has to be French), Helene likes coffee, and Dolokhov is partial to death by chocolate (or something similar)

Bolkonsky has to have peanut butter ice cream, Mary likes strawberry

Andrey prefers sorbet, but if he had to pick, he’d go with pistachio

Pierre’s favorite is cookie dough

Balaga probably found a way to make weed ice cream tbh

Mary loves scrapbooking

Sonya writes fanfic

she loves to read and wishes she lived in a Barnes & Noble

Andrey and Pierre play video games together and they’ve gotten really good at it

neither one of them likes intense fighting games but they do really like Mario Kart

Andrey plays as Yoshi and Pierre plays as Bowser

Pierre tried to teach Natasha how to play but she kept falling off cliffs

her favorite character is Princess Peach

her and Sonya dressed up as Peach and Daisy for Halloween once and it was really cute

Pierre has worn the same black hoodie for two years

Natasha runs an aesthetic blog

she also writes poetry on said blog

one of Andrey’s coworkers keeps accidentally calling him Andrew and it makes Andrey so irritated

the Kuragins can’t swim

Dolokhov tried to teach them but it didn’t work because Helene’s bikini kept falling down and Anatole wouldn’t go under water because it would ruin his hair

if Andrey goes over Pierre’s during the day, he’ll help him clean the house because Pierre has no motivation to do so

about once a month Marya will stop by and remark how disgusting the house is and before Pierre can even defend himself the whole house has been vacuumed, the windows are washed, the laundry’s done, the clothes are folded, the shelves are dusted, the bathroom’s scrubbed, the beds are made, and there’s fresh flowers on the kitchen table

then they hang out and complain about people to each other and it’s a grand old time

Pierre’s really grateful to Marya, but she refuses to take a compliment

let’s be real though, she relishes in watching Pierre keep saying nice things about her because she keeps denying them and he feels obligated to make her agree

Pierre has a shitty Toyota Corolla from the early 90s that has no AC and is being held together by duct tape and he’s afraid to drive it but too attached to sell it

Sonya has a folder on her laptop that’s just pictures of Tegan And Sara. that’s it

Marya doesn’t know how to whisper

Pierre loves the movie theater but will only go if Andrey or Natasha go with him

after the whole Anatole Fiasco™ Natasha and Sonya blocked Helene on Instagram so she kept making fake accounts until they accepted one of the follow requests

Andrey takes Halloween very seriously

Pierre bites his nails

Helene taught Anatole how to do makeup and now he won’t stop contouring

Anatole takes an obnoxious amount of selfies

Sonya’s wardrobe is almost exclusively from Target

Pierre spends an embarrassing amount of time on Wikipedia

Marya had a flip phone up until a couple months ago when Natasha and Sonya convinced her to get an iPhone

Marya hates it because she doesn’t know how to use it and it makes her feel stupid

but Natasha’s teaching her how to use it and it’s kind of growing on her, it’s just so practical and functional and now she has a pretty red case for it that matches her nails and

Marya goes and gets her nails and hair done every couple of weeks, it’s her mandatory “treat yo’ self” ritual

Anatole pretty much only wears pastel colors

Dolokhov pretty much only wears black (or very very very dark gray)

he has a black jean jacket decorated with lots of pins that he wears all the time

there’s a skull pin and one that says “Jesus hates me” and a Blink-182 one and an Obama one and a gay flag one and an eggplant emoji one and one that says “I love my boyfriend” and it’s fucking iconic

his favorite shirt to wear it with is his Batman shirt

Dolokhov likes DC better than Marvel, Pierre’s the other way around (is that what the duel was fought over??? lmao)

Anatole doesn’t care but he thinks RDJ is hot

Andrey likes both and doesn’t understand why everyone’s so angry about it

Helene has an extensive collection of bralettes

Natasha hates pants and only wears skirts or dresses

Sonya doesn’t think she’s very good at drawing or painting but she still does it anyway because it makes her really happy

Pierre once said “love you” while talking on the phone with Andrey and he didn’t know what to do so he just PANICKED and chucked his phone across the room but he forgot to hang up and it turns out Andrey didn’t even hear what he said after all

ehhh hopefully this is pretty good? it was fun to make and made me laugh while writing it but let me know what you think!! and please add on to this post, i need more modern au headcanons hhhhhh

[insomniac-arrest]

A Place for Things

words: 2k

summary: A woman goes to her mom’s funeral

----------

So, mom is dead. That’s not what you say funerals, that’s not what you say when you show up in a dress you bought at Macy’s the other day with your girlfriend’s credit card.

Mom isn’t supposed to be dead either, but you’re at least supposed to say something nice when she is. I forgot my eulogy in the car anyway, it didn’t start like that.

She was an angel, a light, a caregiver, nice words stuffed into an open gaping maw and you want to summon them so badly it feels like a throat burn. I wished I could pluck them out of some sort of word jar, loaded with just the right phrases- I would make a killing selling those.

An image burns a hole in my forehead.

My mom had jars, jars on jars on jars, she put fruits in them and jam and sewing supplies and ‘good things that happened to me’ this year slips of paper. It was the first thing people joked about when they tried to remember her.

You’re supposed to joke and say something meaningful, I can’t just stop thinking: she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead.

I don’t even know what that means.

I brought a granola bar in my bag, I never liked granola and maybe that’s why I bought it, I have my student's old tests shoved in my dashboard and my car keys down the front of my shirt. I have on two gold rings.

I show up with a toothache from some wisdom tooth removal that happened fifteen years ago, the soles of my heels are basically shredded but I wouldn’t sit down now if they paid me. My mom would have liked that, not in a direct way, but in a way that no one would have stopped her from nodding in my direction.

I have on two gold rings, I didn’t mean to put on two but some things slip your mind when you're jamming objects onto your persons the morning of a funeral. I had already driven two and half hours and walked another twenty minutes because I couldn’t find free parking and maybe I wanted to walk.

She’d call it ‘waist saving’ and maybe put it in a jar.

Cousin Ben looks at me first, he takes my hand, the right one with the two gold rings on it and gives me the most tightly crisp smile I’ve ever seen. My own teeth show up like a snarl.

“Helen,” he greets and then bows his head, “We were just talking about you.” I tilt my head, I have places to be- like anywhere but here. “All good things I hope.” I laugh like the sound might get stuck in my throat.

“I won’t spoil it then.” He laughs too and the temptation to be a musical villain is there. I want to turn, I want to be angry at a lot of people at that moment.

My cousin Ben brought his best tie from a New Jersey suit shop he found, it’s blue because it’s sad and he likes sad things. He brought three cents in his pocket, he likes to rub them together when he’s nervous and count the number of times he’s rubbed them.

He’s trying to make it less, I know that. My cousin Ben brought mouthwash and breath mint, he doesn’t kiss people, he doesn’t like the feel, but he became very self-aware of his mouth when he was a kid and still had a dead tooth.

He liked to be aware of things, though this wasn’t something he would brag about at any farm to table restaurant he visited. He just rubs his coins together in his pocket.

He knows my mom is dead in the way that she sent him canned peaches when he was six, they said it was a bad birthday present, but that’s how he remembered her because no one else was going to give him canned peaches for his birthday.

He also has a faux-crocodile wallet, an iphone 7 shoved in his back pocket, and a short eulogy just in case one of us faints on the spot and he has to take over. My other cousin Jenny would like that. She loved things like that.

I wave and try to converse through my teeth, his smile made me have to smile. I wish I was walking again, ‘waist saving’ as my mom would say.

I go in once another guest grabs his attention, I don’t know her, she’s not in the family and I can tell she might like kissing in the way he doesn’t.

I walk the other direction and the utter cool of the house overwhelms me as I enter. I briefly close my eyes.

I brought one black purse with one long black sash across my shoulder and a tiny wallet that fit inside that. It was also black.

I want to go stuff cheese in my face, someone said there was cheese on the group chat: ‘Nancy’s Funeral.’ I had done enough walking.

My aunt Flora is standing in the dim green hallway of the entranceway, she catches my eye, she has green eyes too. She opens her mouth, her lips moving without any words coming out.

She had been to many more funerals than I had, maybe she wanted to say ‘sorry for your loss,’ but it was both of our loss, the words die there.

I offer her a nod, “how are you doing Aunt Flora?” More silent words come out, she purses her thin lips and tries again, “better than Nancy I suppose.” She laughs a throaty guttural sound and I join in, it’s a sitcom sound. You’re supposed to make a few jokes at funerals, like you’re making it meaningful.

My aunt Flora brought one padded purse with extra handkerchiefs, not for anyone else, she knows she’s prone to crying and they are a stern warning to herself not to.

She brought one accessory, red lipstick that smears her teeth every so slightly and the hope that maybe someone will hint at her about it. No one does. She brought a lumpy black dress and two terribly comfortable looking shoes, she knows about shoes and would talk to you about them if you asked. No one did.

In the purse was fifty-five dollars in cash because she’s trying to save up as much physical money as possible to carry around, she doesn’t trust banks, but she’s not very good at it.

I offer her my hand, “to us then,” I almost toast, “slightly better than the grave.” She laughs this time too, the type of wheeze that meant her handkerchiefs were trying to threaten her. I turn around without ceremony.

Me and my brother always said one of those jars had tears in it, that was the story and my mom was making a deal with a great witch down the street. That’s why she sometimes took us by the ear and kicked us out of the house for a few hours.

Before dad came home, it was never long, not long enough to be a thing, later in life times like those that felt like I knew her, she locked us out for a few hours and I almost understood her.

Everything else was a mystery, a hole, and if it wasn’t a hole then it certainly was now.

That’s also what I thought of when I looked at my aunt Flora. We toast to the wind and trade condolences before I duck my head and scurry off.

There was cheese, or maybe another walk.

I have to see my brother next, I know I do because sometimes the world is never predictable but it ends up that way anyway. I see him in the cheese room inside the church reception hall inside the sweaty damp heat of the Atlanta spring.

He’s talking to his wife, who I like, and she’s not talking at all. I can see why.

My brother is moving faster than the winds could catch and maybe he remembered being locked out of the house for a couple hours too.

My brother brought tea, not on purpose, but because his daughter bought him some as a condolences present and they were the type of family to buy each other presents. He accidentally tore one of the bags when opening it and stuffed it in his pocket to hide the fact.

He brought his reading glasses but he was trying not to show that he needed them.

He brought a suit jacket he got after a promotion last year and a pair of pants that were a slightly darker hue but he hoped no one noticed (no one did but cousin Jenny. She found it in poor taste).

He had on an undershirt that was a little too small, my mom would say he should do more ‘waist saver’ walks. She’d say it with a smile.

His wife brought Advil in her purse, sticks of gum, four of the family credit cards, a water bottle for her daughter who was in the other room, a lozenge, a nail clipper, a book about Helen Keller, and headphones- taken from her daughter. Then some granola bars, she for one actually likes granola bars.

I want to eat another hole through my shoes, a gaping ones the matches the one in my heels, they were from Nordstrom Rack and also black. But my brother was talking.

“She never really could let go of those keychains we made her every year, I bet she still has them in a box somewhere! Or probably a jar,” polite laughter, “I think she never found a glass container she didn’t like. I would have cut her off and switched her to cardboard if it wasn’t at least a little charming.” Polite laughter, “I wish she knew when to stop. She never knew when to stop. With some things! A follow through-er, my mom was a follow through-er, haha, she would hate if I called her that.” Polite laughter.

Interjected words across words leave my brothers mouth. I narrow my eyes and I decide not to head right out to the cheese portion of my afternoon, Family Friend Tamara was standing there and I could tell she wanted to ask me advice about her son.

I keep my eyes on my brother, he jumped from one place to another.

“She taught me my words with those damn recipe books, and then those stupid Monkey Phonics, God, I should have told her I hated those. But then she’d make me help can peaches! I think I still hate peaches.”

Friend Tamara brought baby wipes for her hands, Mom’s old college roommate brought expired raffle tickets, my brother’s daughter brought tea and her meds. The woman talking to cousin Ben that I didn’t know brought breath mints too, Cousin Jenny brought her entire set of keys and Cat’s the musical discography.

Someone brought flowers, everyone brought flowers. I brought two gold rings, a pair of pantyhose I forgot to put on in the car, a tiny wallet, I walk across the room.

I barely get his attention, “Mom’s dead.” I put my hand on my brother’s shoulder, it’s the first thing I say. Maybe that’s why my brother always got let back into the house first.

He turns to me and the words die in his mouth, maybe he would make another joke. I shake my head and we both feel the gaping open words a little wholer than they were.

I wish we both started to cry, but he stops talking. I don’t show him my eulogy because I left it in the car.

I finish what I’m saying, something, something, and we move to take our seats for the ceremony, the priest brings a napkin in his pocket. My mom lies, lovely, gone, someone left a jar- I wish they hadn’t.

I forgot my eulogy in the car, I make a joke about it on the way up.

[hardcandyhaz]

Temporary // H.S. (pt 3)

Harry is a lonely businessman, Rosie is a struggling graduate student, and their agreement is only temporary

Part 2 // Read on Wattpad

Part 3

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Startled, I cut off my conversation with Hadley and swiveled in my seat to see who had taken a spot on the other side of me at the bar. “Harry? Are you stalking me?” I asked and he grinned, shaking his head.

“Just here for a drink after work.” He said. “And I'm hoping I can persuade you toward accepting our agreement. What's your poison?” He asked.

“A Singapore sling, if you insist.” I said, turning around to check on Hadley who had moved to the opposite side of the bar to flirt with a Sig.

“Some friend you have.” Harry commented and I shrugged.

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do for free drinks.” I replied. “We can't afford to buy any.”

“S’that why you have a water?” Harry asked. I nodded and turned back to him, taking a sip and leaning on the counter.

“I don't tend to attract frat boys quite like Hadley. Didn't have any luck until you came along.” I said as a Singapore sling was set between us.

“Fortunately for me. Now I have all your attention.”

I smiled, sipping on my cocktail. “Yes you do. Better use it wisely.”

***

“Rosie!” Hadley squealed, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “I'm going to go home with Matt,” she continued, pointing at a Sig boy with her thumb.

“No, you're not.” I said, looking at the frat boy behind her. “Sorry, Matt. She's too drunk.”

He simply shrugged and walked away, which I'll admit was much better than past encounters with drunk Hadley and someone who wanted to sleep with her.

“You're mean,” Hadley slurred, resting her head on my shoulder. “Just wanna get laid every once in awhile and you can't even let me do that.” She continued, her words barely intelligible.

“Not when you're this wasted. You'll thank me in the morning.” I said, looking at Harry. “Sorry. I need to get her home.”

“I can take you,” Harry offered. “Safer than a cab or Uber.”

“You sure?” I asked and he nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Hadley, ready to go?”

“I guess.”

Slowly, we made our way outside, Hadley stumbling every couple steps. I helped her into Harry’s sleek black Range Rover and slid into the passenger seat, sighing as Harry started the car. “Sorry, Harry. Can't imagine taking a random drunk girl home is how you wanted to spend your Friday night.”

“Hey, got to spend my Friday night at a bar with you instead of a bar alone. It's fine.” He assured me, driving toward the apartment.

When we got there, Hadley had fallen asleep in the back seat. “Dammit. Hadley?” I asked, opening the door and shaking her. “Had?”

She groaned, rolling over in the back seat. “Rosie,” she mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Carry me.”

“I can't. You're too heavy. Come on, just a quick walk up to the apartment then we can put you to bed.” I said.

“I got her,” Harry said, nudging me out of the way and lifting Hadley out of the backseat.

“Damn, you're hot.” Hadley whispered and Harry chuckled, looking back at me.

“I am so sorry.” I said again.

Once Harry set Hadley down on her bed, I made sure she got to work taking off her shoes. “Thanks again, Harry.”

“Harry!” Hadley gasped and we both looked at her in confusion. “You're Rosie’s sugar daddy!”

“Okay, that's enough. We're out.” I said, ushering Harry out of the room. “I'm so sorry, oh my god, every time I think it can't get worse it gets worse.” I said as I walked Harry to the door.

“It's alright, darling. I don't mind.” He said, opening the door. “She isn't wrong. Assuming you say yes, I mean. Goodnight, Rosie. I hope to hear from you on Sunday.”

“Bye, Harry.”

***

“Rosie,” Hadley groaned the next morning as I sipped my coffee at the desk. “The blinds. Close them.”

“They are closed.” I said, wandering into to the kitchen to grab some Advil and coffee for her. “You tried to sleep with a Sig boy last night.” I continued when I came back, handing her the pills and setting the mug on her bedside table.

“Yeah, I remember.” She said, her voice croaking as she pushed herself up and downed the pills in quick succession. “I remember everything, unfortunately. Sorry about Harry.”

I shrugged. “He wasn't put off or anything. Said he hoped to hear from me tomorrow.”

“Good.” She nodded, sipping at her coffee. “Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please make me pancakes?”

“Sure. Even though you almost scared away my potential sugar daddy.”

“You're seriously the best and I love you.”

I had an uneventful shift from noon to five and once I got home, the rest of the evening was spent lounging in the living room with Hadley while we did homework.

“Shit!” Hadley gasped. “The ticket!”

“The one you got for parking in the wrong lot? What about it?” I asked.

“I had to pay it by midnight yesterday! Fuck, now I have to pay another $25 and that makes me short for rent.”

“It’s okay.” I said. “I have some extra money from the plasma center, use that.”

“I’ll pay you back. Put it on the board,” Hadley sighed, referring to the corkboard of IOUs we had, overflowing with notecards that kept track of how much money we owed somebody.

“No need, Harry will make up for it somehow.” I replied.

“So you’re going to say yes?” Hadley asked excitedly.

“Free college. I’d be a dumbass not to.”

***

“You’re not meeting Harry like that?” Hadley asked when I walked into the living room, phone in hand and ready to call Harry.

“Who said anything about meeting?” I asked, looking down at my sweats.

“You idiot. You asked for it in writing, you’ll have to meet somewhere to go over and sign everything, yeah? You have to put on clothes. And makeup, probably.”

“Fine. But I’m not wearing a skirt again.”

Fifteen minutes later I walked back into the living room looking more presentable, dialing Harry’s number.

“Rosie,” He said immediately upon answering.

“Hi, Harry.”

“I have everything written up, if you want.” He continued. “Join me for dinner at Tilth?”

“Sure, what time?”

“I’ll come get you. Be there in about an hour.” He said.

“Okay.”

“See you soon. Rosie.” He said before hanging up.

I threw my phone at the couch, followed quickly by my purse. “I need to go put on a fucking skirt.” I muttered, stalking out of the room.

***

A little more than an hour later I was sitting at a table across from Harry, sipping on a flute of champagne as he went over the agreement.

“Are you seeing anyone, Rosie?” He asked.

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t be here if I was.”

“Are you interested in dating?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good. It would only complicate things with the press if we were seen with other people.” He said. “You’re in your fourth year, yeah?”

“Yes, but I have a minor that has me there an extra year.”

He nodded, scribbling out a line and writing down something else in it’s place, presumably another two semesters worth of tuition. “Alright, see if this looks good.” He said, sliding the paper over to me.

“Rent, too?” I asked, looking up from the writing.

He nodded. “You’ve had loans carrying you through college, I know, and you don’t have to worry about them anymore, but you still struggle to make rent with the hours the cafe gives you. Since I’m asking you to cut your hours it’s only fair.”

“You have a ridiculous amount of money, don’t you?” I asked, scribbling my name on the dotted line.

“More than I’d care to admit.” He replied. “Keep it,” He continued when I tried handing the paper back to him. “The only person who gets screwed over if this goes wrong is you.”

I shrugged, folding it and putting it in my purse. Just then, our waiter came back with our food. “Alright, one parsnip risotto,” He said, setting Harry’s plate down in front of him. “And a house made gnocchi for the lady.” He continued, setting your plate down in front of you with a wink.

“Excuse me,” Harry said. “I’d thank you kindly to keep your eyes to yourself.”

The waiter’s face flared red. “Of course, apologies, sir.” He stuttered before walking away from the table.

“Be nice, Harry.” I said. “Didn’t have to scare him half to death.”

“Did so,” He replied, sipping his own champagne. “He shouldn’t be eyeing you up like that, not when you’re with another man.”

“He’s harmless.”

He shrugged, stabbing at his risotto with a fork. “I suppose. When’s rent due?”

“Friday.” I replied. “It’s due the last Friday of every month.”

“How much?” He asked.

“Nine hundred even.”

He nodded. “We can meet up sometime this week and get your bank account set up for direct deposit.”

I nodded. “So what now?” I asked.

“Now we finish dinner, then I take you home so you can study.”

***

“I’m home!” I called when getting back to the apartment and Hadley trotted out of the bedroom to meet me like a puppy.

“How is life as a new sugar baby?” She asked.

“Fantastic.” I sighed, toeing off my shoes and falling onto the couch. “It means champagne and food. Real food.” I continued, waving my box of leftover at Hadley. “It’s all yours.”

Hadley snatched the box from my hands, opening and sighing. “It smells fantastic.”

“It is.”

“So when do you quit your job at the cafe?” Hadley asked as she wandered into the kitchen to heat up my leftovers.

“I don’t. Just cut my hours.” I replied, following her. “If this all goes to shit I’ll need a job again.”

“How many hours does he want you working then?”

“Fifteen at the most. Ten preferably.”

“Damn, that’s like nothing. Is he going to get you a new apartment? A new car so I can stop giving you rides and you can live a life of luxury?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I said.

“Damn, that’s unfortunate. Because you really suck.”

“Excuse me, do you want to eat something other than ramen tonight?” I asked, eyeing the leftovers in the fridge.

“Yes! I take it back!”

“Anyway, it’s late, I’m going to bed.” I said.

“Good night! Sleep well not having to worry about any of your debt!” Hadley called after me and I giggled, falling into bed with a sigh, ready to face the upcoming week knowing I’d make rent.