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missmonsters2 · 5 years ago

Text

Songs For You

Requester: @thatgirlwholikesgirls 💘

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Prompt: “I’m in love with you.”/“Are you finally confessing to me? Because I feel the same way.”

Note: The dream scenario haHA. Thanks for sending this in 💘

Warnings: heart palpitations.

Translation: Пойдем со мной, Ванда. Нам нужно поговорить - Come with me, Wanda. We need to talk.

Genre: Fluff

Count: 4627

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It only takes 12 songs for you to fall in love with Wanda.

Of course, it's over the course of one year, but nonetheless, she becomes every song to you.

It starts on December 31, New Year's Eve. You're really on the cusp of New Year's as it's 11:45 PM.

You're stuck at the university, getting all the reports done on a tight deadline. You let your colleagues who are teaching the same course as you go on the count that they all have a family to celebrate with, and all that's waiting at home for you is your cat.

And not to diss your cat, but he doesn't even know what New Years is.

You call it a night, leaving just a couple more reports for when the holidays are over. It isn't until you're leaving your office that you see someone standing there and nearly have a fucking heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUC–" You nearly scream, ready to throw your bag at the person and call 911.

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—Pietro let me in!" The person exclaims while holding their hands out in front of them to both calm you down and also shield themselves if you did throw your bag at them.

You pause momentarily when you hear his name because Pietro is the professor for Business Entrepreneurship.

You're pretty good friends with him. He would say you're kind of too quiet and a smidge prickly, but he was lighthearted with you. He jokes around all the time that the two of you are bound to start dating, and you're just playing the long game. He's relatively pretty harmless in his advances. He likes to joke and laugh, and you find that's easy to be around.

The girl standing there stands straight, clearing her throat when she realizes you're not going to attack her.

She says your name and asks if you're her.

"Yeah, that's me…" You nod, unsure.

And then she bursts into song.

You're mortified that she's singing Fireworks by Katy Perry while you can see fireworks being shot in the sky in the distance as it hits midnight.

When she finishes, she smiles tentatively at you.

"Happy New Year's," she hands you a card.

"…Thanks," You say dumbly,

"Happy New Year's to you too…?"

"Wanda," she introduces herself and then gives you an awkward wave before leaving.

You're not sure what the hell just happened, but you look down at the card and open it.

Happy New Year's! - Pietro

You roll your eyes and send him a text as you leave the building, the girl was long gone.

You: Next time, maybe warn me because that girl almost went to jail because of you.

Pietro: Surprises are more fun!

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The next time you're at work, you punch Pietro in the arm while he laughs.

You tell him how that girl was very close to getting a concussion and going to jail.

But he just laughs out, "It wouldn't be her first time."

Then you find out that is his twin sister.

The incident is long forgotten with school getting busy, and the students are buzzing around for the reading week break before their midterms.

It isn't until Valentine's day when you're sitting out in the university park on the grass, enjoying the sun and slight breeze that Wanda shows up again.

Only now it's even worse because there are many students out here as well studying.

She's standing in front of you, in a cupid's costume you would say is a little inappropriate, but fuck, she's got excellent legs.

"Please don't," you whisper in horror, but Wanda merely smiles apologetically because she can see Pietro standing in the far distance for this performance.

And then she's belting out Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes, and honestly, you can't even control your face to stop the grimace that comes.

But you admit, you're impressed by Wanda's rapping.

You try not to flush red as every student in the vicinity has their eye on you.

When Wanda finishes, she's about you hand you a card when you grasp her hand and pull her down until she's eye level with you.

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence?" You ask her, the smell of cinnamon and oranges invading your senses pleasantly.

Wanda smirks, and you're not sure if anyone should look that good smirking.

"Well, perhaps you should ask my brother as he's got 10 more songs lined up for you," Her eyes travel past you, and you turn to see what she's looking at.

Pietro is standing in the distance, waving his arms enthusiastically, and you sigh.

You turn back and see Wanda's big, green eyes staring back at you, and you're not sure if it's because you're not in a panicked state that you notice her accent a lot more.

You find it interesting as Pietro has started to lose his, but his sister's accent was still strong (and sexy).

You take the card in her hand, and let go of her hand as you realized you're still holding it.

"I'm assuming the next one is St. Patrick's Day?" You softly quirk your lip up.

Wanda merely smiles, giving you an answer without saying anything.

"Right," you tap the grass with the card twice, and Wanda gets up with a small wave to you and her brother before leaving campus.

You turn back to Pietro, who is giving you a goofy smile, and you shake your head at him.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

March comes quicker than you'd like. It's been pretty hectic with papers and projects due, you hardly have time to think about the impending song-o-gram.

You do try to tell Pietro to stop and maybe save money, but he boasts about how he has a family discount.

Then you begin to wonder why Wanda has such an odd job in the first place.

Also, how does she know where you'll be?

Does Pietro just share your location with Wanda?

You do debate hiding from Wanda so she can't sing. Although you have no qualms in admitting her voice is beautiful, the songs Pietro picks are just not resonating with you.

But it's St. Patrick's Day, and you're planning to let your students go early so they can go have their fun after their latest project.

"Okay," you turn to your class with a smile, "I suppose you can all--"

There's a knock on the door.

Your brows furrow as one of your students opens the door.

And there she is again.

In all her green glory (and a cute leprechaun hat).

The students all turn their heads to look at you.

And you know it looks strange.

"Class...dismissed."

Your students groan as they want to stay and watch the debacle because it's well known now how you've been getting song-o-grams.

Luckily, no one knows who the sender is.

Your students shuffle out the door, some give lingering looks to Wanda.

When it's finally just the two of you in the room, you lean against your desk with your arm crossed.

"Do you always put this much effort into your song requests?" You look again with her black tights with fishnet tights over those and a little green dress.

"It definitely costs extra, and my brother aims to please," Wanda adjusts her hat.

You chuckle because Pietro is an overachiever.

"Alright," you sit fully on your desk, "want to make a side deal with me?"

Wanda looks at you curiously.

"Can we skip the song?" You plead.

"You don't like my singing?" Wanda pouts, and you immediately panic.

"No!" You exclaim, but huff when you see Wanda giving you a teasing smile.

"I just," you breathe, "the singing brings a lot of attention. Not entirely what I'm comfortable with being new to the school."

Wanda nods.

"Well," she smiles, "I'm open to negotiations in place of a song."

"What can we barter?"

"I won't say no to coffee," Wanda says, and you laugh.

"Coffee I can do. Any particular place you like?" You get off the desk.

"I like the coffee shop across the university," Wanda opens the door, and the two of you exit together.

You kind of like the fact that Wanda is unbothered about the fact that people stare at her.

Buying Wanda coffee is a pleasant affair. Instead of suffering through a song, you get to know her instead.

Apparently, the song-o-gram gig is just a part-time day job as at night, Wanda actually owns a bar near the university.

"I mean, you clearly don't need to do this, so why?" You ask her.

"Keeps me busy during the day," Wanda shrugs.

You have a fleeting thought on how to tell Wanda other ways she can keep herself busy, but she seems to enjoy herself, so you keep strolling along.

"You have to admit, though," you grin as you stop and turn toward's her, "This is way better than singing, isn't it?"

"You're starting to sound like a music hater," she grins back.

"Not at all, but I will pass on...what did you say it was again Pietro picked?"

"Buy U A Drank by T-Pain," Wanda smirks, and you sigh, smiling back at her.

"Yeah, back to my point, I'll pass."

The coffee outing ends with Wanda giving you another card, but you're left with the sound of her laughter stuck in your head.

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Coffee becomes a regular thing for you, and not just on the days Wanda is sent to sing to you.

You find yourself bumping into her often at 2 PM on Mondays and Wednesdays, and 10 AM on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The arrangement works out better than anything. Instead of songs, Wanda tells you stories about song-o-grams that she has to do. Many of them being way weirder than her showing up at midnight in your empty office on New Year's.

Still, she will let you know what song she was supposed to sing and laughs when you crinkle your nose.

The next time Wanda comes in with a Canadian flag costume and patriotically sings Baby by Justin Bieber.

"What does that even have to do with Canada day?" You grumble.

"He's Canadian," Wanda shrugs.

You're barely half-listening as you text Pietro.

You: Bieber...really?

Pietro: We're all Beliebers, don't lie.

"What happened to our arrangement?" You lick your lips.

"Pietro wanted video proof I sang you a Bieber song," Wanda waves her phone lightly in her hand to show you.

You sigh, "You owe me coffee for subjecting me to that."

"Hey, just doing my job, but I will still so kindly buy you coffee," Wanda smiles as the two of you make your way to the coffee shop.

You notice a lot of people giving Wanda weird looks, but in their defense, she's wearing a Canadian flag.

You take off your blazer and place it around her shoulders. She pauses, holding the blazer as she looks at you.

"Maybe waving the Canadian flag around when it's almost July 4th isn't such a great idea," you quirk your lip at her, causing her to slowly smile back.

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You see Wanda sooner than you think you would because now it's July 4th, and Wanda has come to drag you out to the beach.

"It'll be a fun party with food. You need food," Wanda tries to bribe you. School's been out for a while, but you got your next semester lined up already, so you've been focusing on making lesson plans and what projects and assignments there will be.

You just want to finish it as soon as possible, so you don't have to worry about it later, and if the result of that is that you can spend more time with Wanda, you weren't complaining.

So, somehow you made it to the beach in your zombie induced haze. You'll give it to Wanda that the sun does feel nice along with the mist from the ocean.

You see, Pietro in the distance playing frisbee with his friends that you've yet to meet. The smell of barbeque hits your nose, and you can't even stop the growl that comes out of your stomach.

"Shut up," you say to Wanda when you catch her smirk.

Wanda's got your beachwear ready somehow (you don't even want to know how she knew your chest size), but you still opt to keep your dress shirt on, unbuttoned, and all.

You get introduced to Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Thor, Tony, Pepper, god the list went on, you can't even keep track.

At least not with your brain feeling like mush.

You inhale the burgers Steve grilled, getting a little bit of everything on your plate, a little more than you would typically eat, but you notice that Wanda has a habit of taking food off your plate.

"Want to go in the water?" Wanda asks as she slides next to you on the towel under the umbrella.

"Can I take a 30-minute nap?" You sleepily ask, but you're already lying on your back, someone's sunhat on your face.

You're not sure if you're already asleep, and dreaming, but you feel a feather-light brush through your hair.

"We can do whatever you want," you hear, a melody that travels through your dreams.

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True to your word, you do wake up roughly 30-minutes later and find that Wanda is still sitting beside you book in hand.

The slight movement draws her attention.

"Awake?" She turns back to her book to finish the page.

You make a noise that barely sounds human.

"What are you reading?" You rasp.

"I was reading The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe," Wanda slides a receipt slip in as a bookmark before she closes it. She hands you some water, which you gratefully take as you sit up.

The cold liquid rejuvenates your throat, and you feel a little more awake.

"Classic, I loved that book," you grin as you throw the water bottle to the side.

You look around to see Pietro and his friends playing volleyball, and you stretch, looking back to Wanda to see she's smiling lightly at you.

"So?" You start to get up, holding your hand out to her, "Want to go play in the water?"

You grimace a little because you sound like a 5-year-old asking your crush to go play with you, but Wanda just laughs and grabs your hand.

Wanda is an excellent swimmer, and she's mischievous as hell because she'll splash water at you, and also swim underneath to grab your leg and scare you.

The day passing by incredibly fast, the evening coming with another round of barbeque and roasted marshmallows over a bonfire.

"Wanda," you call as you're sitting next to her.

She seems like she's really focused,

"Hm?" She hums.

"Your marshmallow is burning and on fire," you say, looking at her treat that has become a black crisp.

You're sure if she peels off the layer, it'll be fine, but...

Wanda sighs, throwing the treat in the garbage.

"Marshmallows suck, they aren't even that good anyway..." she mumbles, and you can't help but chuckle.

You hand over your roasting stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow on it, a little dark chocolate drizzled on it.

"They're delicious, and you know it," you tease, beginning to roast another one.

Honestly, it doesn't even occur to you that you're roasting double the marshmallows and only eating a third of it.

But this whole day, it never even crossed your mind that you hate sharing food, and you've been doing that all day with Wanda.

After that, everyone settles on their own blanket, you sharing with Wanda on one side, and Pietro on the other as you wait for the fireworks.

"No song today?" You turn to Pietro with a smirk, "That's disappointing."

He laughs as he shakes his head, "A little eager for my love songs, huh? Well, don't worry. There's actually something planned."

You whip your head back around to Wanda, who's whistling.

"What's the song?" You demand the two of them.

"A classic, baby!" Pietro hoots. "Firework by Katy Perry!"

Your brows furrow.

"Pietro, you already did that one in January," you recall.

Pietro squints before groaning as he looks over you to his sister.

"Wanda! Why didn't you tell me?" He accuses her as she shrugs.

"That costs extra," she merely says, and you can't help but laugh.

"Well, I paid for a goddamn song, so sing something else!" Pietro huffs, while Wanda smirks at him.

"She's not even going to hear it over the fireworks, Pietro," Wanda points out.

"Sing louder than the fireworks, duh," Pietro says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Wanda rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything as the fireworks show begins.

"Any requests?" Wanda says in her your ear, her breath causing you to shiver.

You turn your head, your lips are shockingly close to hers. "Why don't you sing something you'd think I'd enjoy?"

Wanda smiles because over the time she's gotten to know you, she knows exactly your taste, even your guilty pleasure songs.

And with everyone too busy watching the firework show, Wanda leans closer, her breath on the shell of your ear.

"🎶It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you. Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice. Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you 🎶"

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You think something has changed since Independence Day.

Looking has turned to gazing.

Walking side by side has turned into brushing pinkies.

Hanging out during the day has turned to hanging out at night at Wanda's bar as well.

And no longer singing Pietro's songs has turned to Wanda singing songs she thinks you'd enjoy.

It's a wonderful end of Friday at 2AM, the bar has closed as you walk out with Wanda. It was Karaoke night, so Wanda's leaving with an ukulele, still strumming tunes on it as you walk her home.

"I forgot I owe you a song today," Wanda tunes the ukulele as you reach her place. The two of you take a seat on the steps of her door, huddling close to keep from the autumn breeze.

"Wait, what was the song supposed to be?" You ask with a smile.

"Sucker by the Jonas Brothers," she answers as she finishes her tuning.

You hum. It wasn't an awful choice, and you would listen to it if it came on the radio.

Wanda turns to you, her lips in that smirk that seems to make your heart skip a beat involuntarily.

She's strumming on the ukulele, and you recognize the tune to be Kiss Me by The Sixpence None The Richer.

It's something you can't explain. Your stomach is doing flips like it belongs in the acrobatics, and Wanda is looking at you while she sings it.

Her eyes are soft, and you think she's getting closer only to realize it's you leaning in.

And when the song comes to an end, and Wanda isn't backing away, you lean all the way over, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

Her lips are warm and taste a little like rum from the bar, but God, she tastes wonderful.

She tastes like the best love song there is, a song that doesn't exist yet but has certainly made it to your heart.

And when you pull back, Wanda smiles.

“I’m in love with you,” you breathe.

"Are you finally confessing to me?" Wanda puts her arm around the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss, “Because I feel the same way.”

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Do you ever think about how when you have a crush on someone, the world just seems a little brighter, the songs on the radio sound a little sweeter, even your coffee taste a little better?

Even though school has started again, you've been flying on cloud 9 with the amount of time you've spent with Wanda.

Kissing has become one of your favorite pastimes.

Even the way Wanda moans when you kiss her throat sounds like a song.

It's Halloween, and everything has been progressing perfectly.

"We should tell, Pietro, we can't put it off anymore," you tell Wanda as you help her zip up her costume.

There's a party being hosted at Tony's, and you're getting just a little tired of sneaking around.

Well, you were also really reluctant to tell Pietro you've fallen for his twin sister, but it's not like feelings can be controlled.

Wanda sighs, "I know. We'll find a time to tell him."

You leave it at that because you know Wanda is more stressed about it than anyone, feeling like she's betrayed him.

You have to admit, Tony throws a party like no one else. The entire house is decked out Halloween themed style.

There's even a cauldron that has mist coming out of it.

It's incredibly crowded, but you spot Pietro and his group of friends in the kitchen doing shots together.

"Ah, you made it!" Pietro shouts as he pulls you in for a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning around.

"You drunk?" You ask him with a laugh and brow raised.

"Oh, it's going to take a hell of a lot more than this to get me drunk. This isn't even real vodka," he says, and Tony huffs.

"You idiots drank all the real vodka before the party started," Tony is in some kind of red and yellow metal suit for a costume.

"I even have a song prepared for you today," Pietro grins, and you laugh.

"No days off for your sister, huh? You're a real slave driver," you tease, and he laughs.

"Don't pity her too hard, I'm singing it too," Pietro says proudly with his chest puffed.

"No," you whisper in shock, but Pietro just laughs while Wanda sighs.

True to his words, there's a stage set up in the main room, lights starting as someone comes up to introduce the group.

"Is it a good song, at least?" You ask Wanda, who looks unhappy, she has to go up there.

"Depends," Wanda shifts from one heel to another as she gets ready to go up on stage, "Do you like 2009 Lady Gaga?"

You don't even get a chance to say, "Oh No," as Wanda is already on the stage.

Pietro points at you in the crowd, mouthing, "For you," with a wink, as you shake your head.

The music comes on, and you recognize it as Monster by Lady Gaga.

You're definitely not sure if this is a song siblings should sing together, although it's not as bad with backup dancers there as well.

When the song finishes, you merely shake your head, clapping along with everyone else.

"You're an absolute dumbass," you tell Pietro, who just laughs.

The rest of the night goes on with drinking, games, and dancing.

There are people apple bobbing, and there's candy everywhere.

It isn't until Wanda is pulling you upstairs, pulling you into the washroom as she shuts the door, that she wraps her arm around you.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" She asks, and you love that she just knows.

You're leaning against the sink, body humming with Wanda's lip pressed against your collarbone.

You can hear the music thumping through the washroom walls and door, and you can't help but tap the beat against Wanda's spine.

"🎶Here we go again," Wanda huskily sings as she brushes her lips against your skin, trailing upwards until she's at your lips, "I kinda wanna be more than friends, so take it easy on me, I'm afraid you're never satisfied 🎶"

She never gets to finish the song as your leap your head forward, kissing her roughly as you grab onto her hips to pull her closer to you, your leg between her thighs.

"What the hell!"

The voice interrupts the two of you as you see Pietro has stumbled in, looking shocked, and a little red in the face.

"What's going on here?" He looks between the two of you as you separate, the guilt seeping into the two of you.

Of all the ways you wanted Pietro to find out, this was not one of them.

"So...I'm kind of in love with and dating your sister," you tell Pietro since there's really no other way to break the news to him now.

"Are you serious?" Pietro says, and you feel awful because this is the most serious you've ever seen him.

He looks at Wanda.

"Are you telling me that I've been spending money and paying my sister to serenade you for me, but you fell in love with her?" He's glaring at his sister, and she frowns.

"Пойдем со мной, Ванда. Нам нужно поговорить," Pietro says in Russian that you can't understand.

Wanda sighs, nodding, but she turns to you first, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be back, meet me downstairs," she tells you. You want to protest because it wasn't just Wanda that hurt Pietro, but you hold your tongue.

You pass by Pietro, staring at him a second longer before you make it out and back downstairs. It's a little too hard to be in the mood to dance while you're waiting for Wanda.

It's probably a good half hour before Wanda comes back. She doesn't look distraught, so it must've been okay.

You look at her questioningly, but she merely nods and smiles.

At the end of the night, Wanda has way too many drinks, and you're holding her up as you wait for a cab.

"Hey."

You half turn to see who's there when you see Pietro.

"Hey," you say softly.

You see him staring at Wanda, and you tilt your head.

"We cool?" You ask.

It takes an extra second for Pietro to respond, but he eventually nods.

"I'm a little wounded. I was pretty convinced we were going to be like a 1985 romance movie, but yeah, we're cool. I'm totally getting Wanda to refund me, though," he smiles.

"Stingy," you snicker.

And when he's got that goofy smile on his face, you know it's all going to be okay.

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The rest of the year passes by with a blur. You happily tell Wanda and Pietro that you got a permanent role with the university, and get one last song-o-gram from them.

After that, Wanda quits the part-time job of singing songs to people and gets a part-time job at the coffee shop that the two of you like.

"I need to keep busy," Wanda tells you when you question why she needs another part-time job after the song-o-gram.

"It's either that, or I'll sit in on your lectures," she gives you a sly smirk.

And you're tempted for a moment.

It's December 31st, 11:59 PM, and the two of you are sitting in your office, and it feels like the first time you met Wanda.

"Sing me a song?" You ask her as she sits in your lap.

"Hm," she hums, "Maybe I should sing you Fireworks by Katy Perry again. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She's teasing, but you can't help but smile.

"If you're singing it, any song in the world is wonderful."

Wanda looks at you for a moment, licking her lips.

"Hm," she hums, "I got a different song in mind."

You tilt your head, but Wanda swoops down, biting on your earlobe, eliciting the exact response she wanted from you.

"🎶'Cause I'm having night visions of you and me on the edge of my bed...🎶" she sings in your ear, and your eyes flutter shut.

Truly, Wanda can sing anything as long as they're songs for you.

#mm: my fics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x OFC #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #avengers imagine #avengers au #avengers reader insert #marvel reader insert #Marvel imagine #modern avengers au #genre: fluff

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crystxlclear · 5 years ago

Text

sudden desire

chapter one: cupid fucked up

part two of sudden desire

prologue / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x female original character

warnings: mentions of divorce?

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: not much to say other than i decided this isn’t going to have any smut & it’s just going to be cute af because i’m not comfortable writing it and also the whole issue with under 18s reading & engaging in 18+ content makes things worse. so just enjoy this mostly wholesome but also sad and angsty fic about everyone’s favourite FBI agent falling in love :)

At first, Loren Hull wanted to throw Coraline Meyer a divorce party. Some massive, elaborate party with all their friends. "To celebrate the fact my best friend is finally free!" She'd explained, the day the final paperwork came through. But Coraline decided against it, making some paper-thin excuse that she had some work thing that she couldn't get out of. So, instead, she finds herself alone and sprawled out under far too many blankets on her couch, eating spoonfuls of ice cream like her life depended on it, watching some shitty horror film. At first, she’d tried watching some equally-shitty rom-com but the happy moments made her cry, which she found completely pathetic and embarrassing. Instead, she's resorted to laughing at the characters in the first cliche horror she could find for being so stupid and letting themselves get killed. She'd been in a couple of cheap horrors when she'd first started acting; they were all embarrassingly bad and Coraline likes to pretend they'd never happened.

The doorbell rings halfway through some drawn-out chase scene, fake screams falling from the blonde actress' mouth as some knife-wielding maniac in a cheap mask hunts her down. Coraline begrudgingly hauls herself up from her comfy position on the sofa and shuffles towards the door, socks scuffing across the carpet. The moment the blankets fall away, she’s freezing again, though she’s vaguely aware that her apartment’s about fifty degrees too hot. Still, she wraps her cardigan tighter around herself, finding it impossible to shift the shivers.

Coraline’s greeted by the grinning face of Marcus Pike. "Hey, sunshine." He grins.

Sunshine. The nickname he'd given her the first day they'd met, when she'd shown up far too early to a briefing. Cora’s older brother, Daniel, had been opening an art gallery in downtown D.C. and was convinced scammers were already trying to sell him fake paintings for exceptionally high prices. Marcus and his team were tasked with helping out; Coraline had been roped in by her brother to help, since she’d be there for the grand opening.

She’d been wearing some bright yellow dress she'd found at the back of her wardrobe; he'd complimented her when he'd arrived a few minutes later and it had been so long since anyone had given her a genuine compliment that she'd grown flustered and almost spilt coffee down herself. They'd grown closer and closer since then and she had no hesitation in calling him one of her best friends.

Marcus holds up a paper bag. "I brought Chinese food."

"Oh, you're an angel." Cora returns Marcus' grin, opening the door wide enough for him to step inside. She takes the bag from him and cradles it close to her like it’s a newborn baby, the warmth flushing through her body.

"I try." He chuckles as she pulls him into a hug. They hold each other close for a while, lingering just a little longer than normal, her hand clutching at the back of his t-shirt a little tighter.

Coraline slumps back onto the couch when they finally let each other go. She immediately combs through the bag in search of the chow mein she knows will be in there; their weekly Chinese takeout nights have become a tradition in the few months they've known each other and he knows her order like the back of his hand.

Marcus settles into the armchair opposite, grabbing his own food. "Happy divorce day, by the way."

Coraline groans. She'd hoped he'd forgotten about that — she hadn't mentioned it to him, either. The less said about it, the better. "Oh, god, don't remind me." She flings her head back dramatically against the couch cushions. "But, hey, I'm a single woman now. You should take your shot while you still have chance. I'm in high demand." She jokes.

"Are they lining up at your door?" Marcus chuckles, leaning forward in his chair.

"You know it, I'm a catch." She mumbles through a mouthful of noodles, wiggling her eyebrows at him. Marcus smiles wistfully over at her.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you, Cora."

"Oh, please." She snorts; she can feel her cheeks flushing as pink as the blanket she sits beneath. She still finds herself taken aback whenever he compliments her, she can’t help it. There’s just something about the way he seems to mean it that makes her heart swell inside her chest. She stares down at her food and pokes at an onion with the end of her chopsticks, hoping he won’t notice the bright flush of red that has swept across her face. "I'm never falling in love again, anyway."

"Why?"

Coraline looks up at him through her lashes. He’s still staring at her as she pokes at her noodles. "Too much unnecessary heartbreak." She pokes her toe out from under her blankets, nudging the half-empty pint of ice cream she'd been eating before he arrived. It’s melting and staining a ring onto her coffee table. It makes her shiver more than she already was. "I'd rather not go through the trauma again."

"Don't be so dramatic." He sniggers, kicking her lightly in the ankle.

Coraline fakes offence. She pokes Marcus back, furrows her eyebrows and pouts. "I'm not dramatic," she mumbles, ignoring the fact half an hour earlier she'd been crying into her ice cream like some character in the movie she'd been watching. "I just don't want to get hurt again."

Coraline has always had a problem with heartbreak. It seems to follow her. It happens too quickly, too often, and each time it chips away a little more at her heart. She's started to think that it’s inevitable, now. The sum of her heartbreak just makes her fragile.

Her first heartbreak at thirteen made her feel like her world was ending. By her second, at nineteen, she realised just how trivial that had been. The third heartbreak was the worst. It came at the expense of her younger sister Eve, barely seventeen with so many hopes and dreams, snatched away by a drunk driver on one quiet Sunday morning, as the sun shone brightly and the breeze ruffled the trees. The pain hit her where she was weak and left a spider-web of cracks inside her mind. She patched herself up with fractured smiles and make-believe until a little more sunshine crept through and she was herself again. Or, at least, half of herself.

When the fourth came, at the hands of the very person who'd helped her through the darkness, the person who stood by her side as she pulled the broken pieces of her heart back together, she was almost numb. Almost. It was almost like there was nothing left to break, nothing left to feel. Except there was and the cracks inside her threatened to burst apart.

Coraline has always known that hearts are easily broken, even when she was a child. The idea had never phased her until she felt it and it hurt more and more and more, until her bones were hollow and straining to hold together the pieces of her aching heart as it tried to tumble from her chest.

The thought of getting hurt again is a little too much.

Marcus smiles. "I get that." He’s silhouetted by the warm light of a street lamp that streams in through the window behind him. It turns the ends of his hair golden and his eyes amber as he tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure something out. Amber eyes gaze over the slight furrow of her brow and the glimmer that has appeared in her green eyes. "I hate him for hurting you, for making you think that way."

Coraline shakes her head. "Don't." She smiles, a great big beaming smile, that she’s worried might come off as fake, flashing across her face. "It was inevitable." Truthfully, she was half-gone before Scott even met her, dwelling too heavily on past heartbreak. They were perfectly wrong for each other; they'd both known it for a few years before things had turned sour but, back then, pretending to live in some blurry version of perfection, both silently screaming because it wasn't right. They weren't meant to be. They didn't work anymore, and hadn't for far too long. "And it was my fault, too."

When she and Scott first met, something made them believe things would work out. Opposites attract or some made-up cliché shit like that. She'd found herself drawn so quickly towards him; he was confident and sure of himself and he gave her this smile that sent welcome shivers through her bones. They got caught up in a whirlwind, pushing and pulling them, unrelenting. Things just moved too fast and they loved far too much, then far too little.

Coraline just wants to fall in love, slowly, to feel it smouldering so deep down in her bones for months before she realises what it is, when she’s head over heels and has fallen so deeply there‘s no way out. She doesn’t want to feel forced into loving someone, to spend her days convincing herself that she does. Because there would be nothing to doubt, she'll just know with complete and utter unwavering certainty. And she just wants someone to love her back, really, truly love her back, without compromise. Someone who’ll treat her right because he wants to, not because he has to.

"Aren't you hot under all those blankets?" Marcus questions. He's been wearing a suit jacket beneath his coat — it was so cold outside that the rain turned to ice the moment it hit the sidewalk — and he huffs out an uncomfortable deep breath as he pulls it off. "It's ridiculous in here."

"I'm always hot." She jokes with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. She tucks the blankets — all four of them — up under her chin. "But I'm freezing."

Coraline has had shivers set deep in her bones for months now. She can never seem to keep warm, permanently troubled by a chill that flushes through her. It’s becoming a real problem. Mostly because her heating bill is almost double that of normal, from the sheer number of times she dials the thermostat up as high as it will go.

Marcus scrunches up his jacket and throws it at her. She bats it away before it hits her square in the face, the button narrowly missing her eye. "Hey!" She protests, poised to launch the jacket back across the room directly towards his head.

"Wear it." He insists before chuckling as her expression softens. "Another layer to keep you warm."

"Oh.” Another pause, weighing up his expression, her eyebrow half-cocked in mild scepticism. But he seems genuine. “Thank you."

...

Coraline must have fallen asleep half an hour later. She'd trailed off mid-sentence, eyes fluttering closed, breath falling steady as she relaxed against the couch cushions. She's barely slept lately — an infuriating result of worrying about her impending divorce and a hectic filming schedule that is still in full swing — and neither she, nor Marcus, is surprised that sleep has prematurely pulled her under.

When she finally reopens her eyes, the dull light of daybreak is threatening to spill through the curtains and everything is neat. Marcus is gone; the entire apartment is silent, save for the soft hum of voices from some old black-and-white rerun on the TV. She doesn’t remember falling asleep or even closing her eyes; the last thing she remembers is Marcus throwing her his jacket and them talking for a while about nothing in particular as she’d turned off the horror film that had been playing in the background the whole time. She’s still wearing that jacket, now, her fingers tangled in the sleeves that are far too long for her. The jacket still smells like him, all familiar and comforting.

Coraline pokes her head out from underneath the blankets that are covering half her face. Her head had been resting on a small couch cushion when she'd fallen asleep — she'd been far too lazy to grab any others — but now the pillows from her bed prop her head up. Marcus must have put them there before he left; sometimes she sleeps so deeply that she isn’t surprised he hadn’t accidentally woken her up.

She finally manages to peel herself from the spot on the couch she's been laid on for over twelve hours, her knees protesting with a loud crack, every blanket tumbling to the floor. Her feet brush from her rug to the cold wooden floor and she shivers again because, of course, she’s unbearably cold again. Only her hands, that are stuffed into the pockets of Marcus' jacket, are warm.

The apartment is always quiet, now. Especially since Scott had moved out. Everything just feels empty, like she’s living in the house of a ghost, passing by empty picture frames that she's been too distracted to fill. She’s sure that Marcus has cleaned before he left; the half-melted tub of ice cream and empty Chinese food cartons are gone and even the dirty dishes she'd dumped in the sink have been washed and tucked away in the cupboard.

It’s the smallest of gestures, bringing her pillows so she’s comfortable and throwing out the trash, probably small and insignificant to anyone else. But the idea of doing any of it had bled all the energy from Coraline's bones and she’s so grateful.

She’s so painfully and heartbreakingly grateful for Marcus Pike and he has no idea.

#marcus pike x female character #marcus pike x original character #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x reader #sudden desire

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justmezzingaround · 5 years ago

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Event Starter | @direheterosis

Priscilla didn’t need much convincing when Mezzarin asked to hang out, which was very good from Mezzarin’s point of view because she had things to give her! So she told Priscilla to meet her at the nicest place that came to her mind immediately: one of the outdoor theatres in Archimedes, currently empty as there were no performances scheduled today.

Mezzarin looked unusually cheery, hands held behind her back, as she floated up to Priscilla’s face as soon as she arrived, and immediately went into her spiel.

“Okay so sorry to ask you to hang out so suddenly but I really wanted to give this to you today before it sort of lost more meaning than it already has and I wanted to give it to you specifically because—”

Deep breath.

“—to you because you’re one of my only friends even though you’re also my boss which is pretty sad but I try to ignore that part and it doesn’t matter because you’re a big enough friend to make up for it both figuratively and literally and it’s helpful in getting me to forget about the friends I had back home.”

And after running out of breath a second time (and still wearing a big smile throughout it, despite the sad admissions), she thrust her hands forward towards Priscilla’s face. In her hands was a simple Hallmark DevoLine Valentine’s Day card, with a picture of a bee on the front and the caption ‘You’re what all the buzz is about!’

It also had a hand written note from Mezzarin, saying simply “Be my Valentine?”

#direheterosis #thread: Priscilla 05 #EV: Cupid Shuffle

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littlecrookedheart · 7 years ago

Text

Merry & Bright : The Twelve Days of Choices FicMas

Prompt 9, Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Pairing : Khaan x Dakota & Hamza

Rating : FLUFF

Word Count : 3,985

Disclaimer : I do not own any characters mentioned that are found in the choices universe.

“Do you like it, ‘Koda?”

Hamza outstretched his little hand, a tiny wooden ornament with a blue blob painted in the center sat in his palm. The corner very sloppily read, ‘HAMZA’ in full capital lettering, white dots plopped on the empty spaces.

“I love this, Hamza. Thank you!”

“Do you know what it is? That's Bopper! And he's dancing in the snow!”

“Bopper is the new velociraptor Hamza's babysitter gave him for Christmas,” Khaan smiled, sitting next to Dakota on the sofa.

“I quite love Bopper. He's such a great dancer, too. Did you teach him?”

Hamza shot to his feet, shuffling them as he used his arms to make waves.

“I'd say so,” Dakota giggled, joining Hamza in his arm wave dance.

“‘Koda, daddy says you and me get to make cookies for Santa. We have to make sure they have no gluten ‘cuz we don't know if he's allergic. ‘Kay?”

“I think that's very thoughtful of you. What kind of cookies?”

“I think we have the ingredients for cacao chip cookies and stevia gingerbread. What’ll it be, Lil’ Sprout?”

“Um…��Koda can pick. I just wanna make them look like Bopper!”

“I don't think they make cookie cutters in the shape of Bopper, Hamza.” Dakota said, taking a drink of their tea, the steam rising off of it similarly to the smoke of Khaan's seasonal incense.

“Actually,” Khaan stood up and walked over to the kitchen, opening a drawer and pulling out a mesh bag of various dinosaur shaped cookie cutters. He reached inside, sorting through them quickly and held up one with a blue silicone grip. “They do, and we have one.”

“I stand corrected.”

Hamza zoomed to the kitchen, knocking his knee on the side of the couch. He fell to the floor, eyes welling with tears.

“Ow!” He cried, quickly looking up between his dad and Dakota for assurance.

“Can you bend it?” Dakota asked, kneeling next to him. Khaan joined them, helping Hamza move his leg.

“Yeah…”

“I think all is well, Sprout.”

“Here, I'll get an ice pack.” Dakota grabbed a beaded gel pack from the freezer, gently pressing it to Hamza's knee. A bruise was starting to form, a purple splotch just beneath his kneecap. “How about you go change into your pajamas and we can prop your leg on the couch while the cookies bake? The cold will help it feel better.”

“Go on, I'll be there in just a second to check on you,” Khaan nodded.

Hamza sniffled and went to his room, stopping to pick up Bopper on the way.

“Thank you,” Khaan whispered, reaching over to brush Dakota's face with the side of his hand. “You're really great with him.”

“He makes it easy to be. When you called me earlier, I was just as excited to see him as I was to see you. You're both wonderful.”

He sighed, a genuine grin spreading across his face.

“You're wonderful, too.”

“Daddy?” Hamza called from his room, “I wanna take a bath!”

“Okay Sprout, I'm coming!” He turned back to Dakota, “It won't take long.”

“Take your time.”

Khaan pressed a small kiss to Dakota's forehead, rushing down the hall to meet Hamza.

With a bit of time on their hands, Dakota pulled up a gluten free cookie recipe on their phone and began preparing the two types of dough, mixing in cacao chips and holiday spices. Afterwards, they covered each bowl and stuck it in the fridge, filling a kettle with fresh water to heat up before sitting down.

Dakota leaned back on the couch, closing their eyes for a moment, a smile spreading across their lips at the sound of Khaan and Hamza laughing. This is what home feels like, huh?

Hamza peeked out his room, skipping down the hall.

“Okay! ‘Koda, come on! We got a present for you.”

“It's not Christmas just yet,” Dakota said, turning to see Hamza in a red and green striped pajama set, his arms outstretched with a wrapped gift in his hands. “You look like you’re ready for Santa! What's this?”

“Daddy said I can give it to you! We gotta be ready for when Santa comes.”

Kneeling to meet Hamza's height, Dakota took the present and smiled. “You sure?”

“Yep!”

“Okay. Wanna help?”

Hamza nodded, tearing the paper open to reveal a white box. Lifting the cover off, he laughed at Dakota's raised brow reaction.

“Isn't it cool? We can match.”

“This is very cool, Hamza! Did you pick these out?” Dakota unfolded an identical pajama set, unable to hold back a grin.

“Actually, that was me.”

Khaan strolled down the hall, turning in his own matching jammies as if he were walking a runway.

“Wow.”

The three of them burst into laughter, Hamza doubling over in exaggeration.

“Go put ‘em on, ‘Koda. Then we can make Santa's cookies!”

“Okay. Can you keep an eye on that kettle?”

Hamza nodded, eyes widening.

“When it whistles, tell your dad it's time for -” they moved in closer to his ear, whispering, “Hot chocolate!”

“‘Kay!” He grinned and plopped onto the couch, facing the kitchen

“He's feeling better, then?” Dakota asked, heading down the hall to change.

“Miraculous recovery. Don't you know? That happens often with small children.”

Khaan followed closely behind, stopping at the doorway of the bathroom.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Don't you ever think you have to ask me that,” Dakota sighed, pulling him more in the doorway and out of Hamza's sight. His arms around them were like pillars of strength, lips slightly quivering as they met in a deep rush.

“I'll let you change,” he said, brushing a hand through Dakota's hair. “I think I hear the kettle.”

Hamza threw his head back as he cackled loudly, “Ehheheheh!” as he dumped the entirety of a container of sprinkles onto the cookie dough, spreading them all around.

“I hope Santa likes sprinkle overload,” Dakota joked, using the dinosaur cookie cutters to pop out shapes, setting them down on a pan.

“I hope Santa likes overly excited, hyped up children!”

Khaan rolled balls of dough onto the sheet, popping each pan into the oven.

“Okay! Time to clean up now,” Hamza reached for a cloth on the counter, “I'll do the wipe down. Daddy? You gots to spray it.”

Khaan winked at Dakota, pulling a spray bottle out from under the sink. “Set the timer, please.”

Dakota spun the timer backward, helping them clean the counters up.

“Santa is gonna love ‘em, isn't he?”

“Of course he will, Lil’ Sprout. You made them very festive and they already smell delicious.”

“I love cookies. Wanna sing a song? ‘Koda, do you know the song with Donner?”

“Donner? The reindeer?”

“Yep!” Hamza pulled a small wooden step stool in front of the sink, sudsing his hands as he sang, “...Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzer! But do you remember the most best reindeer of all….”

“Oh!” Dakota flung their arm around Khaan, singing, “Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose-”

“But did you ever saw it, you would even say it glows!”

Khaan chuckled and shook his head before belting, “All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names-”

“They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games- take it away Hamza!”

Hamza jumped off of the stool, swinging his arms around as if he were playing guitar, “Then one foggy Christmas eve, Santa came to say HO HO HO-”

Khaan swept him in his arms, spinning around as the two of them sang, “Rudolph with your nose so bright! Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?”

“Then all the reindeer loved him, as they shouted out with glee-”

“Rudolph, the bestest reindeer, you'll go down in history!”

Hamza ran to the couch, Khaan and Dakota speeding after him, covering his ribs in tickles. He shrieked, laughing so hard he could hardly breathe before yelling out,

“I'm gonna pee! I'm gonna pee!”

“Oh! Get to the potty then, Stomper!”

Hamza ran into the bathroom, giggling as he closed the door behind him.

Dakota panted, trying to catch their breath, “I bet this never gets old.”

“He keeps me young. He loves having you around, you know. He's so much more vibrant.”

Their eyes twinkled, crinkling at the corners, “Khaan, I-”

“I'm done peeing and I washed my hands!”

Khaan cleared his throat, “Yeah? Did you flush?”

Hamza paused in his step, turning back to the bathroom to flush the toilet.

“Daddy, can ‘Koda tuck me in?”

“Of course,” he smiled, kissing the top of his son’s head, “Sweet dreams, Sprout.”

“Love you!”

“I love you, too,” he said, closing the leftover cookies in Tupperware containers before rolling up his sleeves to finish the dishes.

Hamza snuggled into the couch, teeth freshly brushed and eyelids heavy.

“‘Koda, did you ever meet Santa before?”

“I can't say I have.”

Dakota tucked the blanket under Hamza's sides, handing him an extra throw to hold close.

“Do you know Santa goes all over the world? He brings everybody one present and it's ‘upposed to make us happy for Christmas.”

“The whole world?!”

“Yep! Daddy says he gots to start way before Christmas here, because some other places are Christmas yesterday.”

“Santa is one very nice person, isn't he?”

“Yep!” Hamza yawned, “What did you ask him for this year?”

“To spend Christmas with my best boys,” Dakota sighed, patting Hamza's arm, “And he gave me that, didn't he?”

“‘Koda?”

“Yeah?”

Hamza's eyes were closed, face halfway hidden behind his blanket, “You’re my best friend.”

Dakota smiled and whispered, “And you're mine, Hamza.”

Dakota stood up and made their way to Khaan, gently brushing his back and kissing his shoulder.

“He's asleep.”

“Thank you for tucking him in.”

“Of course.”

Khaan dried his hands on a towel, leaning his back against the fridge. He looked sad, almost, concerned.

“What's bothering you?”

“Am I so obvious?” he ran a hand over his face, looking toward Hamza. “I feel like I'm doing something awful by lying to him.”

“About what? Santa?”

Khaan nodded, shrugging.

“He's five, he should have something magical to believe in.”

“I'm unsure of the best way to go about this. I don't want him to have false hope.”

“Did you believe in Santa growing up?”

“I did. When I was nine, kids at school told me the truth. I didn't confront my parents, but I didn't pretend to believe anymore once I'd learned that it was all fabrication.”

“Did you ever have animosity toward your parents for telling you that Santa was real?”

“Of course not. I didn't understand why they had, but I never felt negatively toward them.”

“Why would he feel that way toward you, then?”

Khaan sighed, looking toward Dakota, unable to meet their eyes.

“He wouldn't, you know. Hamza is a great kid.”

“Dakota, I am so afraid to hurt him.”

“How could you ever hurt him? You love him so much, so wholly, you’re always putting yourself last in every single situation. You give him the world. You do everything you can for him.”

“I want to be the father he deserves. I give my all...I'm just afraid I won't live up to my own expectations.”

Dakota reached across the counter, taking Khaan's hand in both of theirs.

“You have to get out of your head, darling. Look at me.”

They moved around the counter, sidling up next to Khaan, placing one hand on his cheek, the other on his waist.

“You are the most loving, kind, incredible father I've ever known. Hamza loves you more than you'll ever believe. Please be kinder to yourself.”

Khaan's face flushed in heat, making him turn away briefly. “Thank you.”

Dakota's lips sprinkled kisses across his face, a smile forming on them as they pulled away.

“Hamza is happy, Khaan. You deserve to be, too. He'll be even happier if he sees you smiling as much as you deserve. You don't have to sacrifice your happiness in order for him to love his life. Look at him,” they gestured toward the couch where Hamza slept, his hand tightly holding Bopper, cheek smashed into the cushion. “He's living the life already.”

Khaan chuckled, brushing a thumb over Dakota's lips.

“You're right. I must be doing something right to have a kid like him.”

“Exactly,” they grinned, “You’re the magic Hamza sees in Santa. He just doesn't know it yet.”

Khaan choked back a sob, shaking it off. His gaze caught on the flickers of tree lights in Dakota's eyes, their hazel swirls seeming to illuminate a golden glow. He took a breath, pressing his forehead to theirs, “I can never be as happy as I desire.”

“Don't say that.”

“I can't lose my inhibitions, not when I have someone else to protect.”

Dakota's brow furrowed slightly, drawing both arms around Khaan, pulling him into an embrace.

“Just...let me keep making you smile. That's all I want from you.”

“I can't tell you how much I wish...”

“You don't have to, believe me. I already know.”

Khaan moved to kiss them, lips soft and comforting against one another, slowly dancing together as if they'd never missed a beat. Like fighting a current, Dakota broke the affection, swallowing hard as to shake away the emotion welling in their chest.

“We should try to sleep.”

“You're right. That little stomper will be awake before we know it.”

Khaan gently met Dakota's lips once more before leading them to the couch, lacing his fingers with theirs as he dozed off.

“Khaan, wake up.”

“Hmm?”

“Seriously, wake up.”

Dakota's voice was faint, barely there. Their eyes were fixated across the room, nodding toward the Christmas tree.

“What is it?” Khaan reached for his glasses, blinking vigorously when he saw what Dakota did. “What...is that?”

A flurry of silver and gold orbs bounced like sparks near the tree, a center of many of their lights formed together.

“I've never seen anything like-”

“Listen!” Dakota whispered, holding a hand out to pause him.

At first he was met with silence, only the tick of the kitchen clock filling the room. But then, as if all at once,he heard the most beautiful chime, an undeniable chorus of bells in the distance. Khaan looked to Dakota with wonder in his eyes and stood up instinctively, slowly approaching the light show near the tree. He jerked his arm back after reaching out, a deep chill surging through him.

“Are you okay?”

“They're freezing cold and warm at the same time,” he said, his eyes wide, “This is going to sound unbelievable...impossible, even, but it's like I saw something…”

Dakota crossed the room, reaching both hands out. As the orbs scattered reflections across their skin, a mixture of vanilla and pine filled the air, memories of childhood Christmases rushing forward. They turned to Khaan, taking his hand to feel the lights once more.

Khaan's face lit up as he watched Dakota open a miniature piano on their tenth Christmas, the aroma of baking pies in the air. The sound of laughter, a young Dakota in the kitchen eating candy, their grandmother finishing a knit sweater. And then pure light, Dakota's face the moment he'd revealed his feelings to them, and moments that hadn't happened ever before - Hamza and Dakota sledding down a hill together, Khaan's fingers placing a golden band behind a pillow. An older version of Hamza, smiling at the foot of a staircase in a tuxedo, Dakota snapping pictures with tears in their eyes. ‘It’s just prom!’ ‘Prom is a huge deal!’

Khaan blinked away the mist in his eyes, pulling his trembling hand away.

“What did you see?” They asked, leaning closer to him.

“You were young... I saw your grandma knitting...and a little piano. You were so happy.”

“So were you,” Dakota giggled, “I saw you open your first chemistry set.”

“What is this, Dewdrop?”

“Santa's magic,” Hamza yawned, sitting up on the couch.

“Hey, Sprout. Sorry we woke you.” Khaan crawled over, sitting on the floor next to Hamza's spot on the couch.

“Did he do it?”

“Hmm?” Dakota asked, running a hand through the dancing lights again.

“Did he help you? I asked Santa to help you know what you really want for Christmas.”

“What do you mean, buddy?” Khaan asked, softly patting Hamza's knee.

“ ‘Cuz remember? I said, ‘What did you ask Santa for this year?’ and you said, ‘I don't know.’ So I said to Santa in my letter that Fiona helped me write, ‘Dear Santa, for Christmas I want you to help my daddy remember what he wants and then give it to him! Because this year I got a lot of presents for my birthday and I really want daddy to have a present too!’”

Khaan smiled, glancing to Dakota before hugging his son with one arm.

“That was really kind of you, Lil’ Sprout. But you know, Santa will still bring you a gift.”

“Well, what are those? Are those my presents?” Hamza pointed to the lights.

“I thought you said they were magic!” Dakota smiled, taking his hand, “Wanna feel?”

Hamza's face brightened, nodding quickly.

“I'm not so sure if that's-”

“Please, daddy? I promise, just one time!”

Khaan gave a nod, watching as Hamza spun in a circle beneath the shimmers.

Suddenly, the lights dissipated, a wave of glitter bursting from each of them, raining down around him. The sound of the bells seemed to surround the room, the twinkling tree lights buzzing brighter, and in a split second -

“Santa!” Hamza shrieked, pointing out the window before running over to it.

Khaan and Dakota looked out, mouths falling open in perfect synchronization. Hamza giggled profusely, bouncing up and down, “Santa!”

The silhouette of a reindeer led sleigh dashed across the sky, glimmers of orbed lights following closely behind. The gift pile under the tree had grown substantially, leaving Khaan with a quizzical look on his face and Hamza with a racing heart.

“Daddy, can we open one?”

“In the morning, Sprout, you need your sleep.”

“Just one? Please? Then I'll sleep, I promise!”

“Please?” Dakota chimed, falling to their knees next to Hamza, “We deserve it!”

“You both deserve the naughty list,” Khaan laughed, passing both of them a gift labeled from The North Pole.

Hamza ripped open the paper, thrusting a stuffed stegosaurus into the air. “Just like I wanted!”

“Whoa! How cool is he?” Dakota grinned, petting the toy. “What's his name?”

“Um...Nelson.”

“Very cool. Nice to meet you, Nelson!”

“What did you get, ‘Koda?”

“Let's see.” Dakota opened a small box, a folded piece of paper sitting in the center. They unfolded it, covering their mouth in awe. “Hamza...did you draw this?”

Hamza leaned over and smiled, “Yep! How the heck did Santa get that?” He turned away, wrapping his toy in a hug as he buried his face back into his pillow.

Khaan leaned over, tucking the blanket around his son, gently brushing his hair as he fell asleep.

Dakota sat between the couch and the tree, running their fingers through the air where the orbs had been. Khaan sat cross legged next to them, resting a hand on their thigh.

“Can I see what you got?”

They passed Khaan the paper, eyes glistening as they looked away from him. Inside was a crayon drawing of three stick figures holding hands, each labeled underneath. Across the top was scribbled yellow flowers and the words, “My family.”

The first, drawn in green, with black glasses, “Daddy.”

In the middle, a short one drawn in blue, “Me”

At the end, drawn in purple with curly hair, “Koda.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“It says everything,” Dakota said, their eyes brimming in tears, “I need for you to know something.”

“What is it, dewdrop?” Khaan pulled them close, concerned and very confused at the entirety of the nights happenings.

Dakota sniffled and laughed, looking to Hamza.

“He is the smartest, funniest, most amazing kid I've ever met.”

“He is pretty great, isn't he?”

“He's incredible. You've done such a wonderful job raising him, Khaan. He has the best man to look up to.”

“I don't know if I can take all of the credit-”

“No, stop. Please take my compliment. You never, ever let me tell you how perfect you are.”

“I'm not perfect, dewdrop. But I won't fight you on it. Thank you. You are rather perfect to me, too.”

“I love you.”

Khaan tilted his head, meeting Dakota's gaze as they continued, “I don't want anything from you. This never has to be anything more than it is right now, but I need for you to know that I love you, and I love your son. You are everything to me.”

“Dakota, I-”

“‘Koda?”

Hamza reached outward, patting Dakota's shoulder from where he lay.

“What's up, buddy?”

Eyes still closed, he drowsily mumbled, “We love you too.”

Dakota chuckled as tears ran down their face, rubbing Hamza's back as he fell back asleep. They curled up on the couch, smiling once more at Khaan before closing their eyes, too.

“He's right, you know,” Khaan whispered, wrapping his arms around them, pressing a warm kiss to their neck. “We really, really love you.”

--- a year later

“Look at my handsome boys!” Dakota beamed, finding Hamza and Khaan already dressed in their Christmas Eve pajamas, each of them with a mug of cocoa.

“Go change, ‘Koda! We wanna watch Polar Express!”

“Okay, okay! I thought you wanted cookies,” Dakota giggled, passing a plate of warm gingerbread men to Khaan.

“I was the one who wanted these. He's just ready to wait for Santa again.”

“I'm not waiting for Santa this year!”

“How come?” Dakota asked, sticking their head out of the bathroom as they changed into their pajamas, “Last year was so fun!”

“Because I already know he's real. Besides, daddy already got his best present.”

“My best present was you, Sprout.”

“My best present was Bopper.”

“My best present was both of you,” Dakota grinned, sitting between the two on the couch.

Hamza snuggled up to them, dancing in his seat as the title screen popped up. Khaan and Dakota joined in, swaying back and forth for a moment before pressing play.

“The first gift of christmas!” Santa Claus announced, holding up a silver bell on the screen.

Khaan reached behind Dakota, tapping Hamza on the shoulder. He stirred in his seat, climbing behind the couch.

“What are you doin’, silly?”

“Getting the first gift of christmas! Close your eyes!”

“Open your hands,” Khaan said, covering Dakota's palm with his own.

“Okay ‘Koda, open your eyes.”

“Okay...what's this about?”

“We love you!” Hamza smiled, two of his baby teeth missing from the front of his mouth.

“We want to know…”

“Do you wanna?”

Dakota's eyebrows raised, a look of confusion in their eyes, “Do I wanna what?”

Khaan laughed, rolling his eyes. “What Hamza meant to say is-”

“Oh! Do you wanna be a Mousavi!”

Dakota's chest filled with an ache, a deeply embedded rush of emotion, their heart feeling as if it had dropped completely to the ground.

“What?”

Khaan moved his hand, revealing a thin golden band in Dakota's palm. Dakota gasped, speechless, staring at the ring.

“Say yes,” Hamza whispered, taking a bite of a gingerbread man.

“Yes. Yes! Of course I do!”

Khaan wrapped his son and new fiancé in an embrace, his glasses fogging slightly as his eyes misted over.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he sobbed, pressing kisses to both of their faces.

“Ew, dad! That's gross!”

Dakota chuckled, wiggling their eyebrows at Khaan as he pulled back, face stained with tears.

“So we’re gonna be a real family now?” Hamza asked, mouth full of cookie.

Khaan smiled, kissing Dakota's cheek tenderly, “We already are.”

#perfect match #khaan x dakota #khaan x mc #khaan mousavi #choices12days #christmas things #write things

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