#hope you enjoyed and had a lovely valentines!! for my part i have eaten nothing but sweets today and hoo boy will that have been a mistake

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[terrm9]

All The World Seems At Ease Tonight

a.k.a. Christmas Fic

Three years of Christmas Eve for Ethan and Chiara.

Warnings: some kissing, some cliché like mistletoes, mutual pining in the first part, other than that just fluff fluff fluff

Words count: 4 300

Author’s note: Here we are, in times when Valentine’s Day fics are being posted, I finished my Christmas Fic. Yay! It was supposed to be made of three equally long parts but I went crazy with the first one (it was my first time writing about Book One and I just truly enjoyed it). However, I hope you enjoy <3

Intern Year

It took longer for Ethan to finally walk the deserted corridor than he expected, but he decided to work on Christmas Eve for a reason – as he did every year – and checking on patients had to be the main priority. Of course it had to.

Yet, his steps carried him more swiftly than usually and he could feel his forehead ache from the constant concerned furrow of his brows. Naveen was feeling especially unwell these past two days and Ethan hated the idea of his older friend left alone and in pain on the day he loved that much.

Not that Ethan understood. Christmas, as every other holidays made no sense to him and if it was up to him, the whole nonsense would be erased and never celebrated again. But Naveen loved the festivities and the ‚merry spirit‘ of them, and so Ethan tried his hardest to keep him company for as long as he could.

Crossing the corridor enough to see the door of Naveen’s room, Ethan’s heart jumped in his chest as he noticed that they were slightly ajar.

Damn the man if he tried to take a walk.

Opening the door to the room fully, a soft breath of relief left Ethan at the sight of Naveen peacefully laying in his bed, his eyes closed but a gentle smile formed on his lips.

And he was not alone.

Ethan’s breath hitched in his throat again.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence, he just kept standing in the doorway, devoured by the scene in front of him.

Chiara was sitting at one of the chairs next to Naveen’s bed, her back turned to the door and a small book in her hand.

And she was reading aloud.

„In fact I have no other choice

than, being alive, to live.

And every day,

into its every moment,

I lead this highly destructible body.

And if hope morse-signals: life

while hopelessness outruns possible death,

my decision is made -

I side with hope.

You can find me anytime

near its hidden paths.

Talking or silent.

I guard the human dream.

And I hold out

where I stand.“

Ethan’s throat tightened and he thanked the universe for the fact that the two doctors – the two doctors that meant so much to him – haven’t yet noticed his presence.

He was not sure what exactly made him feel the emotions currently filling his mind, and he could easily blame it on the merry spirit of Christmas, had he believed in it.

Maybe it was the melody of Chiara’s voice as she read the poem, so soft and gentle and beautiful. Or maybe it was a sight of Naveen, sick and weak and dying and yet looking so peaceful.

Perhaps it was the combination of both, the woman that captured his mind more often than he was willing to admit and the man that was like a father to him, spending time together in a perfect harmony, the air around them so serene it made Ethan wonder if his interruption would even be a welcome one.

„This one was my favorite,“ Naveen spoke into the silence, although he didn’t open his eyes.

„You said that after I finished the one before,“ Chiara chuckled softly, closing the book in her hands.

It was a miracle – not that Ethan believed in those – that Naveen managed to laugh at Chiara’s reponse without coughing. They looked almost... normal. As if his life was not ending anytime soon.

„It truly is a pity that there are only so few of his poems translated to English.“

„When you get through this,“ Chiara replied and Ethan hated that he could hear the sad smile in her words, despite not seeing her face at all. He had no right to know her that well. „You should learn the language and translate all of his poems.“

Naveen only hummed in a response, letting them both believe for a blissful moment that he would get through it.

It was the time for Ethan to make them aware of his presence. He coughed politely and stepped inside, doing his best to maintain a stoic mask on his face.

„Ethan!“ Naveen smiled brightly, just as brightly as Chiara did when she noticed Ethan, and for a moment it was easy to forget who they were, where they were.

„What are you doing here, Dr. Ray?“ Ethan asked instead of greeting and almost immediately winced at the choice of his words, knowing that he sounded rather rude.

When truly, he was simply surprised. He was not aware of Chiara working today.

„I am sorry, Dr. Ramsey,“ her bright smile turned into somehow sheepish one and she put the book on her chest, as if it could serve as a shield protecting her from Ethan’s inevitable anger. „All my patients are stable so I stopped by to keep Dr. Banerji company, at least for a while.“

„And what a pleasing company it was!“ Naveen exclaimed, shooting Ethan a reprimanding look, obviously not pleased by his behavior. „Are you finished with your tradition?“

Ethan tensed visibly and only gave away a stiff nod, the last thing he wished to share the tradition with the younger doctor.

„The... tradition?“ Chiara dared to ask despite his less than kind reaction. „I didn’t take you as someone with Christmas traditions.“

„I am not,“ Ethan spoke flatly, sitting on the chair on the other side of Naveen’s bed.

There were seconds of rather awkward silence between them before Chiara stated that she would leave them alone, wished Naveen Merry Christmas while hugging him and left the room.

It was as if warmth of the air went with her.

It didn’t take long for Naveen to chew Ethan out for how he behaved to Chiara – and Ethan noticed the affection, the gentleness lacing Chiara’s name as Naveen said it. He was right, of course. Ethan was hard for no reason and he wasn’t proud of himself, but what was he supposed to do? Ever since getting back from Miami, it was becoming more and more difficult to control his actions with her.

But Naveen was right. He had no right and he should make it all better.

And so after Naveen made it clear he would like to sleep, Ethan checked the schedule to make sure none of Chiara’s friends were working and then with a bated breath clicked on Chiara’s contact.

E: Where are you?

The reply came almost immediately, a sign that there was not emergency – which Ethan wasn’t sure he considered a good sign or not.

C: The on-call room. Why?

It didn’t really make sense to Chiara, why was Ethan texting her, him of all people. If there was an emergency, he could have easily paged her.

The answer to her question came quickly.

E: I am about to grab some take-out. I was wondering if you would care to join me in my office to share a meal.

Saying that Chiara gasped would be an understatement. She had to blink twice to make sure she was not missing a message stating that he sent it to the wrong number. But no.

C: Are you inviting me over for a Christmas dinner?

E: Do not be ridiculous. Do you like Italian kitchen?

C: Sure.

E: 9 PM, my office, then.

And then nothing. Chiara was almost absolutely sure that she was dreaming, because there was no way the same Dr. Ramsey that has been avoiding her ever since the conference would be inviting her for a – definitely Christmas – dinner.

But free food is free food and she would be lying if she said she wouldn’t welcome a distraction. No matter how hard she tried to stay positive, she missed her family terribly today.

And Ethan was a rather pleasant distraction after all.

 At 10 PM, with her risotto eaten, a paper cup filled with an apple juice – the best option for a toast for them -  she managed to get in the cafateria in her hand, Chiara found herself sitting comfortably at the leather couch in Ethan’s office, one of her leg crossed over the another, her white coat shrugged off and hanging over the arm of the couch.

It surprised her to see Ethan next to her, looking almost equally relaxed. One of his arms was draped over the back of the couch and Chiara could feel the warmth radiating from the skin of his hand, on her neck.

"So... is there a point in asking you about the tradition Dr. Banerji mentioned?" Chiara asked after finishing her drink, mischievous sparks dancing in her irises.

"No," Ethan replied immediately, although his voice wasn't nearly as stern as he wanted it to be. The right corner of his mouth twitched slightly, Chiara noticed, as if her question amused him.

Ethan wanted to share it with her, he almost let it slip, but he made a promise in Miami - to her or rather to himself, he didn't know - and damn him if he didn't keep that promise.

Professionals.

That's all they should, all they could, be.

And as if to prove himself wrong in the very next moment, he spoke again, asking a question that professionals shouldn’t want to ask.

"Are you going to share your reason for not visiting your family over Christmas?"

Chiara shrugged, her smile not quite faltering but losing some of its brightness.

He didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious. Chiara mentioned home and family fairly often and back in Miami, he could hear her on the phone with her mother – and it was exactly the kind of call a child and a parent that love each other share.

He found it only logical that Chiara would want to spend Christmas in San Francisco.

“I am not sure I would get that many free days as an intern.”

“All your friends have gotten three free days, so would you. It is not much, but it enough to take a quick trip to San Francisco.”

She laughed softly, her gaze strained with the thought or memories, Ethan didn’t know.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas at home since…” she stopped herself and cleared her throat and it didn’t take a diagnostician to see that she was looking for a way to tell Ethan enough without telling him the whole truth.

“It has been six years since we celebrated in San Francisco. For these last years, me, my mom and my sister travel abroad at the time of Christmas. This year, they are in Singapore,” she chuckled and turned to Ethan, a smile on her face wide, however her gaze still lost in the haze. “I am sure three days wouldn’t be enough for a quick trip to Singapore.”

Ethan laughed shortly at that and shook his head, no that would not, and he fought the urge to ask more, to get to know her more, to tell her about his mother, because professionals.

That is why Chiara hasn’t asked him back, why are you working today?, because he made it clear he wanted to keep things professional and she was not brave enough to push him again.

“I would want to stay in Boston anyway,” she added after a while, looking away again and she was biting her lips nervously.

Ethan didn’t want her to be nervous around him but damn, her teeth sinking into her lower lip and her cheeks flushed slightly and it took the last remnants of his strength to repeat the word in his head, professional, professional, professional.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well I knew that Dr. Banerji would be here and I thought it would be nice to spend some time with him. And I didn’t know if you would be here so,…”

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say and when she turned to Ethan, it surprised her to see how close he has gotten, his whole upper body slouching to her and his face so close she could feel his breath on her face.

And it would be easy to believe that he was only listening intently, that was the reason of his sudden proximity, it would be right to believe so, but Chiara was anything but stupid.

“Ethan,” she exhaled quietly and noticed how his pupils dilated at the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

She raised her hand and rested it on his cheek slowly, waiting for his reaction.

And in that moment, there were many words swirling through Ethan’s mind but professionals was not one of them.

He leaned closer, so close his lips brushed Chiara’s ever so softly and-

-and her pager went off.

Chiara stood up abruptly and took the pager out of her pocket.

“I guess that’s my call,” she smiled and it didn’t go unnoticed by Ethan that she sounded out of breath, that his effect on her was as strong as hers on him and he cursed himself for letting the damn word slip out of his mind.

He also cursed himself for not kissing her earlier, so that he could feel her lips fully before the pager went off.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan,” Chiara smiled at him for the last time and left the office before he could respond.

And Ethan thought that if he could celebrate the Christmas like this, with her, every years, maybe the holiday wouldn’t need to be erased.

 Second Year

“So you already finished this tradition of yours today?” Chiara asked with that sweet, innocent smile on her lips as she stood between Ethan’s legs as he kept sitting on his chair, gently removing his glasses.

Only then she kissed the bridge of his nose softly, caressing his cheek with such care it almost didn’t make sense to Ethan.

“Yes,” he smiled back at her, enjoying their position and the fact that for once, Chiara was above his eye level and he had to raise his head to meet her gaze.

“And you are not going to tell me what it is?”

“No,” now it was Ethan’s turn to smile all-too-innocently and he knew Chiara was burning with curiosity.

He wouldn’t mind telling her now, but he would lie if he said that he was not enjoying seeing his Chiara, usually so composed and calm, freaking out about his secret Christmas tradition.

She leaned down to capture his lips and Ethan wondered if that was a part of her plan because if she’d continue to roll her tongue like that, he would tell her everything she would wish to hear.

And she knew that.

Ethan grabbed the back of her thighs, making her stumble slightly and sit in his lap and soon their kiss turned into proper make out session, his hands roaming her bare torso hungrily while her hands tugged on his hair, leaving them in the disheveled state she adored so much.

Before their Christmas evening could turn into the gala’s sequel – the memory still fresh in Ethan’s mind – Chiara pulled out with a reluctant sigh.

“My mom and Alicia told me to say Merry Christmas from them to you.”

Ethan nodded in thanks, however he couldn’t contain a sigh leaving him. He knew Chiara missed her family.

“Do you regret staying here instead of going with them?”

“Are you crazy?” Chiara laughed and unlike last year, Ethan remembered, her laugh was sincere and full of joy. “I am cold enough here in Boston. I wouldn’t wish to freeze to death in freakin’ Iceland.”

Not able to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Ethan let out a soft laugh too, however he had to agree with Chiara – the woman was cold all the time. He couldn’t imagine her hitchhiking through Iceland – a trip that evolved from what Chiara called ‘her mom’s middle age crisis’ idea’.

“And again, with the time off I took after the senator’s attack and Edenbrook’s closing, I wouldn’t be able to leave for three weeks.”

“You know I would sign off your vacation, three weeks or not,” Ethan mumbled into her neck.

Chiara smacked his arm lightly, an amused grin on her lips.

“And that, Dr. Ramsey, is not at all professional.”

Ethan wanted to argue that he could think of many not at all professional activities that happened in this very office, but sometimes not reminding himself of his terrible failure at staying colleagues was for the best.

Not that this relationship was by any means a failure. Letting himself fail his principles for once in his life turned out to be the best decision he has ever made.

“I knew you would be working,” Chiara added much more seriously and she was, of course, right. There were reasons Ethan was dedicated to work every Christmas Eve, reasons he never talked about but were enough for him to not to break the habit.

“And you would rather spend your Christmas at work with me, than in Europe with your family?”

“Yes,” Chiara stated simply, not a single hint of doubt in her voice. None.

Who knows how much longer we are going to work in this hospital together, she thought but didn’t say it aloud, not wanting to ruin the bright mood.

Checking his watch, Ethan gestured at Chiara to stand up and followed her in her tracks, trying his best to tame the mess his hair has become.

“I am going to pick up the food. Are you going to join me?”

“Nope, I still need to check on some patients. I will accompany you to the nurses’ station.”

They left the office together and Ethan still couldn’t quite comprehend this new reality for them, the life where they walked the corridor freely next to each other, Ethan’s hand put on Chiara’s lower back gently, and he didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing them.

“Dr. Ray, Dr. Ramsey,” Marlene smiled at them from the desk and noticing Ethan’s relaxed shoulders, she dared to go on. “Didn’t you want to spend your Christmas outside of the work?”

Chiara shrugged and smiled widely, not giving Ethan a chance to ruin Marlene’s mood by his sour response – it didn’t matter how relaxed he was, he couldn’t stand people asking him personal questions.

“We like to work. Someone has to do it even today, right?” she smiled at the nurse.

“Maybe you could engage at least in some form of Christmas cheer, hm?” Marlene gestured at the green adornment above their heads and Chiara couldn’t contain her smirk when she noticed what it was.

Mistletoe.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan stated, his arms crossed at his chest. “We are at work. I will not fuel rumors by indulging in such public display of physical affection.”

Chiara raised an eyebrow at him and Ethan was not sure if she was trying to remind him that the office’s walls were still made out of glass and therefore their earlier escapades could be very well considered a public display of physical affection, had anyone come by, or-

“Ah,” Marlene laughed loudly. “You didn’t mind to fuel those rumors at the gala not even three weeks ago, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan’s cheeks flushed brightly but it was clear at the moment that those two women would not let him leave that easily.

Sighing reluctantly, he planted a quick – yet gentle – kiss at Chiara’s cheek and muttering ‘food’ left the corridor.

“What are you doing to the poor man, Dr. Ray,” Marlene whispered as she watched his retreating form, winking at the young redhead she came to like very much.

 Third Year

It seemed like it would become their very own tradition, to share their Christmas dinner behind the walls of Ethan’s office.

Chiara was extremely tempted to join her mother and Alicia this year – after all, it is at least warm on Mauritius and Chiara deperately wished to feel warm for a while. But with Leland not that approving of her relationship with Ethan – with her boss, as he reminded them – she wouldn’t dare to ask him for two weeks of vacation.

And maybe she was secretly thankful that he made that decision for her – she missed her family, but she couldn’t imagine sending Ethan beach pictures while he would be working. And she knew he would be working.

It took her by surprise, by the most beautiful surprise, when Ethan asked her if she wouldn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve in San Francisco – there was no doubt they would get three or four days off for that – and that he would accompany her, if she would like that.

Only then she found out he exchanged messages with her mother rather regularly and they came up with the idea together, actually.

And so there she was – walking down the long corridor of renewed Bloom Edenbrook’s hospital, a patient chart in one of her hands and a Christmas card she got from one of the patient in the other. Chiara only needed to drop the charts off at the nurses’s station and she was free to enjoy her take-out with Ethan for as long as their pagers would remain silent.

After checking everything twice and making sure she wasn’t needed anywhere, she stepped into the office, smiling at the sight of a single candle glowing in the middle of Ethan’s desk – maybe the idea of this truly being a Christmas dinner was finally getting on him.

„Before we start,“ Chiara spoke first, taking a seat next to Ethan on a couch. „I saw you leaving a paediatrics wing today and I know you have no patient there. Is that your tradition?“

She normally wouldn’t really care about Ethan being somwhere weird, but this was their third Christmas together and there were many, many attempts on Chiara’s side to get the information out of Ethan through the years, only for him to resist.

And it was beginning to be ridiculous.

„Yes,“ Ethan rolled his eyes but he didn’t really seem anyhow bothered. He hugged Chiara’s waist and put a lingering kiss on her temple, her smell intoxicating him even after years of knowing it. Knowing Chiara.

„So what exactly is it what you do there?“

„I read books to the kids that have to stay here and are alone. I am not dressed as Santa,“ he added quickly, noticing Chiara’s curious eyes. „I just come there, bring some books with me, read them for as long as I can. It’s not much, but...“

Chiara turned to him fully now and whispered: „It is more than much,“ before kissing him softly, pouring all the love she felt into the simple act of their lips meeting eagerly.

And she still wondered, how was it that it was her, that she was the privileged one to see this side of Ethan Ramsey, the side that reads book to sick kids and hugs overwhelmed mothers and buys a candle because he knows his girlfriend loves candles on the Christmas table.

„Didn’t you want to spend this Christmas with Alan?“ Chiara asked between the kisses, genuinely curious – the relationship between two Ramsey men was finally good, after all.

„He knows I will come tomorrow. I wanted to work today.“

„You... wanted to work?“ Chiara leaned back and shot him a confused stare.

She knew that it was Ethan’s habit to work on Christmas Eve, but it never occured to her that it was something he truly wanted.

Ethan leaned into the back of the couch, exhaling slowly before responding.

„I never had anyone waiting for me at home on Christmas. And I made sure, every year, that I would be working on Christmas Eve, because me working meant someone else being able to go home. When I work, it might guarantee another doctor to spend his evening with his family, his kids.“

There was a mix of emotions in Ethan’s eyes, even if his voice was steady – a gentlesness mixed with pain and perhaps even anger.

„I believe that parents should be home for Christmas. I am aware of our job being demanding, but no child should feel left behind because their parents have important job. If there is only one of the fellow doctors that is able to play board games with his kids now because I am here – we are here – working, then yes, I want to work.“

He propped his head on the back and closed his eyes for a while and it stunned Chiara how peaceful he looked, how content. She squeezed his hand, however before she could say anything, Ethan spoke again.

„Until that is something we have, I am more than happy to spend my Christmas Eve’s here with a take-out and you.“

It seemed like he didn’t even realize what he just said, his position, his expression not changed.

But Chiara noticed.

Until that is something we have.

They never really talked about family. Future. They loved each other, there were no doubts about that, and they enjoyed planning the upcoming months of their lives. Chiara knew she wanted to spend her life with Ethan. And deep down she knew that he felt the same – that they didn’t go through that much for him to just let her go.

But the statement left her speechless nonetheless.

It wasn’t even that much about him saying that there might be an option for a family in his future – Ethan changed a lot after all.

It was the way he said, with such easiness, such certainity, without a single doubt, until that is somethig we have.

We. Us.

It was his third Christmas with Chiara and Ethan knew that if it hadn’t been for her, he would still wish to erase Christmas from the existence of an universe.

[tchallasbabymama]

Slow Down

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! Here’s Chapter 10 of Playlist, I hope y’all enjoy it. It’s a long one.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, and take a look at my masterlist HERE to check out the rest of my work.

Word count: ~12,800

CW: smut

T’Challa snuck away from the palace and made his way through the city completely unnoticed under the cover of darkness. He turned his hoverbike off the busy street and made his way to the end of the cul de sac before hopping off and knocking on the door. Chidi answered and let the king in, looking behind him to make sure nobody noticed him.

“T’Challa, what is this about?” Bisa came around the corner as her husband smiled back at her.

“He has something important to ask us, dear.” he winked and she perked up, immediately catching his drift.

“Come, sit down. Would you like some tea? I’ll make tea,” she said as she scrambled off to the kitchen.

T’Challa sat and fiddled with his fingers until Bisa came back with the red tea and sat down. Chidi was tickled by the king’s anxiety since he already knew what was coming.

The king cleared his throat, “Chidi, Bisa...As you know, I love Ashanti very much-”

Bisa unsuccessfully tried to hold in a squeal, and T’Challa couldn’t help but crack a smile. He knew they knew what he had to say, but it still had to be said.

“-and it would be my honor if you would give me your blessing to marry-”

“Yes!” Bisa jumped up and hugged him.

“He wasn’t finished, Bisa,” Chidi chuckled at his wife.

“Oh he got the main point out,” she waved him off and pulled T’Challa in for another hug. 

“Well, my wife speaks for both of us, son,” he pulled him in for a hug as well.

The three of them sat down for tea and T’Challa answered all of their questions about royal weddings.

“We’ll have a private ceremony first, just between us and Bast and the Ancestors. The second day will be the public wedding, and the third will be her coronation.”

“And what part do we play in all this?”

“You two have an integral role in each day. You two will lead the pre-wedding rituals the day of the private ceremony, and during the public ceremony our parents must bless the union by giving us away. N’Jadaka will be standing in for my father that day, but as an elder you have to be the one to bless me during the ritual, Chidi. Finally, during Ashanti’s coronation you two will be the ones to crown her.”

“Wow...I-I don’t know if I can be in front of all those people,” Chidi wondered aloud.

“I promise, it's not as scary as you think it is, and if it is a serious problem, Shuri can always give you some Vibax to calm you down.”

“Anything for my baby girl,” Chidi let out a huff as Bisa grabbed his hand.

“So how will you ask her?”

A huge smile appeared on T’Challa’s face.

“Well, as the king, it is customary for me to present my intended with a crown of my own design, and I figured that since she loves American movies so much I should also get her a ring.”

“Why a ring?”

“It is an American thing, the women are presented with a diamond ring for their marriage proposals.”

“Ah. I think she would like that”

“Have you started designing her crown yet?”

He beamed from ear to ear and pulled the projection up on his beads. Their jaws dropped as tears came to Bisa’s eyes.

“My baby...a queen.”

--------

A week later, Ashanti was at Taj’s feeling overwhelmed with all her work. She had been having trouble focusing all week and got next to nothing accomplished so she decided to take a nap and hope the inspiration could come to her. She packed up her things and headed out to the front of the store. It was moderately busy, but she knew her two employees could handle just about anything. In fact, she was thinking about letting them run the store completely so she could focus full-time on her jewelry. She would discuss it with them another time.

“Hey Z, I’m heading out.”

“You ok? You look tired.”

“I just need a nap. If you two need anything-”

“You’re just a call away, we know. Go on and get some rest,” Jafari called to her from where he was fixing the paint brush display. 

She decided to stop by Zana Cafe before she went home since she knew she wouldn’t feel like cooking later. As soon as she plopped down in the booth her dad descended.

“What’s up nugget?”

“Just tired and bloated and bleh.”

“That time, huh?”

“Yeah I guess so, I’m a little early though.”

“Better than late!” Chidi joked and they laughed until Ashanti got a whiff of something from the kitchen and gagged before running off to the bathroom. Bisa saw her daughter dash by as she came out of the kitchen.

“Is she ok?” she asked, concern written all over her face.

“Maybe she’s sick…”

Bisa went in to check on her babygirl and she was there on the floor, heaving up everything she had eaten that day. She put the back of her hand to her clammy forehead to feel for a fever, but felt nothing. 

“I think my period is coming early,” Ashanti was able to get out despite the soreness of her throat.

“I thought the birth control took care of your nausea, though,” Bisa mused while tying her daughter’s hair back.

Ashanti’s eyes flew open.

“Fuck! No, no, no, no-” she jumped up, still lightheaded, and paced around the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” Bisa slowly made her way up from the floor, concerned even more. Chidi knocked on the door after hearing the commotion and came in to check on his baby girl.

“Is everything ok in here?”

“N-no, I...I...I was so swamped with work I got my shot a week late.”

“Your shot? What sh-...Oh my Bast.” the realization dawned on Chidi right as the door chimed to signal a new customer. “I’ll be back,” he pointed to Ashanti then turned around to greet the customer and take their order.

When he left Ashanti broke down crying in her mother’s arms.

“What’s wrong sithandwa?”

“Mama, what if I’m pregnant?”

“Then you’re pregnant.” Bisa shrugged.

“But I-I’m not ready, T’Challa and I-” she gasped, a realization dawning on her, “T’Challa can’t have a child out of wedlock, he’s already pushing it too far by being with me in the first place. This, this could-” 

Bisa shushed her and held her close, wishing she could ease her daughter’s mind with the secret she had to hold onto. 

“It’ll be ok baby, I promise. Besides, you don’t know for sure yet.”

Bisa knew for sure, her daughter was pregnant.

“I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow, I think I need to lay down for now.”

Ashanti leaned into her mom and took a deep breath.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” Bisa ushered her daughter out of the restaurant and into her car. She got them back to Ashanti’s house in no time flat and when Ashanti turned to look at her mother before getting out there were tears in her eyes.

“Sithandwa, it will be ok, I promise.” She kissed her forehead and Ashanti slid out of the car. She turned to wave her mother off after she opened her door. When she turned and entered she could have thrown up again from the smell.

“What is that?!” she wretched as she walked towards the kitchen.

“What do you mean? The food? It’s your favorite!” Binta looked up from stirring her oxtails. 

“It smells like bloody dirty socks.”

“Ew, what the fuck?”

“I just-” she gagged again and ran out of the room. She was fine once she got upstairs away from the smell, but she lit a scented candle Kwame had given her, just to be sure. She stripped down to her underwear and laid across her bed, arms resting on her lower abdomen. Tears started running down to her ears as she let the emotions wash over her. 

She didn’t need a test, she knew. Ashanti’s anxieties took over as she worried over the council’s reaction but most importantly she worried about his reaction. They had wanted more time to themselves and didn’t plan on having kids for a couple more years at least, yet here she was, growing his seed. 

His seed. T’Challa’s baby. Ashanti giggled through her tears and rubbed her belly, thinking about how good of a baba he’d be. She had always hoped for a girl, but she’d love a little mini T running around just as much. Just as she started to daydream about him talking to her belly, her beads started trilling with her love’s special tone. She sat up and answered the call, allowing the communication bead to slide down her hand.

When he appeared in front of her his face instantly cheered her up.

“Hey baby.”

“What’s wrong?”

She was taken aback by how easily he sensed something was off. It would be harder than she thought to keep this  to herself until she knew for sure. She would definitely have to talk to Binta after this.

“I’ll tell you later. Tomorrow hopefully.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, but he let it go knowing she’d tell him when she was ready.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, I miss you.”

He sighed, “I miss you too. I have been busy and just so exhausted... I think I’m coming down with something-”

She shot up from her position on the bed.

“What are your symptoms?” she asked cautiously.

He was confused by her sudden intensity, but continued nevertheless, “I’ve just been so tired all day, and that hardly ever happens. I’ve been sleeping just fine, so I don’t know what the issue is. And I got nauseous earlier, which makes so sense. I must be sick, but I feel fine otherwise.”

She went quiet.

“Are you ok, love?”

“Y-yeah, I just...I need to tell you something.” tears welled up in her eyes. “Can you come over?”

T’Challa’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, but of course he agreed and was there in 10 minutes.

Binta let him in and his stomach turned at the smell of the oxtails still cooking on the stove before taking the stairs two at a time and knocking on Ashanti’s door. He twisted the doorknob and grew uneasy when he saw her pacing back and forth around her room.

“Kitten, talk to me,” he went over and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him before kissing her temple. She turned around and he saw the tears in her eyes threatening to fall.

“I haven’t confirmed it yet, but I,” she grabbed his hand and placed it over her womb. “I’m pregnant, T’Challa.”

His head tilted to the side as he felt the slight firmness of her lower abdomen.

“I don’t understand-...how?”

“One: you’ve never pulled out of anything a day in your life, and two: I was a week late getting my shot. I didn’t think it would be an issue since you had yours, but-” she started crying again and he wiped her tears away.

“Don’t cry, kitten. Look at me,” he held her face in his hands and smiled down at her. “You’re really pregnant?”

“Ye- T’Challa!”

He picked her up and swung her around.

“Bast! You- you’re so beautiful,” he gazed at her slightly rounder face. He had noticed she put on a couple pounds, but he assumed it was “happy weight”. He could kick himself for not seeing it sooner. 

“I’m going to be a baba?” he asked while peppering her face with kisses.

She couldn’t help but smile at his joy and his tickling kisses, “Yes, Challa.”

“Thank you,” he looked at her with tears in his eyes and pulled her in for a deep kiss. They pulled back and just stared at each other as he rubbed her belly. 

“The council-”

“Fuck the council, you’re having my baby!”

“She what?!” they heard from outside the door.

Binta had been walking by on the way to her room and since the door hadn’t closed all the way she overheard his exclamation.

“Binta, I-”

“That explains the oxtail. Girl I thought you had gone crazy, but oh my Bast! You're pregnant?”

“I’m like 99% sure-”

“Oh she’s definitely pregnant,” T’Challa said with a smug smile on his face and Ashanti hit his chest.

“Have you taken a test? How far along do you think you are?”

Ashanti went and grabbed her friend’s hand in hers.

“Don’t be Binta the doula right now, just be Binta my best friend for a moment.”

The two squealed and Binta hugged her friend tight.

“You’re going to be such a good mama,” she said with tears threatening to fall as she turned to hug the king, “and you’re going to be such a good baba.”

“Thanks girl.”

“Thank you, Binta.”

“So, despite what I said a minute ago, I was wondering...would you be my doula?”

“T-they don’t have special royal doulas?”

Ashanti turned and looked at T’Challa questioningly.

“You are the special royal doula. I’m the king, my word is law,” he shrugged as Ashanti’s arms made their way around his neck and she pulled him in for a hug.

“Thank you Challa!”

“Anything for you, kitten.” 

“Wow,” Binta looked on, trying to blink the tears away. “Well, I’ll give mama and baba some privacy, just let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course.”

Binta squeezed her hand one last time before leaving and closing the door behind her.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Challaaa-” she complained.

“I know, I know, but I promise it’s a good one,” he kissed her forehead then her nose then her lips. “Let’s go back to the palace.”

She threw on her clothes and the two of them walked hand-in-hand out to his hoverbike.

“Is this thing safe for, you know-”

“It’s safe, I made it myself.”

That immediately quelled her fears so she hopped on behind him and they took off. They made it to the palace in no time flat and he escorted her up to his quarters.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.” he left back down the elevators and Ashanti made herself comfortable on the bed. She ended up falling asleep and was awakened by his kiss about an hour later. Her eyes blinked open and she was met with the sight of candles everywhere with soft music playing in the background.

[Skip Marley]

Slow down

Let me love you

Darling, I care

I care for you

More than my own self

Darling, I'll share

I'll share with you

All goodness and wealth

“Challa, what is this?” she asked through a yawn.

“Just the beginning, my love.” he kissed her cheek and went to his closet and came back out with her favorite dress. “Put this on and meet me downstairs.”

[Skip Marley]

Seh, we can have just one night

Or we can one whole life

If we play it cool, yeah

We can have that one thing

Or we can have everything

If our hearts are true

Girl, slow down

Let me love you

Darling, slow down

Let me get to know you

“Where downstairs?”

“You’ll know!” he said as he jogged out of the room, quickly closing the door behind him.

Ashanti shook her head and stared at her flowy red dress with double leg slits, “What is he up to now?”

She stepped into her dress and zipped up the side, checking herself out in his mirrors and grabbing the gold sandals she usually paired with it. She added a little jewelry and checked her hair before heading towards the door. When she opened it she was caught by surprise by a trail of violet petals leading an open elevator door. She got in and the doors closed before taking her down to the main floor, playing the same song that she heard in his room.

When she got out she could hear the music playing throughout the palace, and she continued to follow the violet petals when she came upon Ramonda and Shuri with huge smiles on their faces.

“You look gorgeous, dear.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “Do you have any idea what T’Challa is up to?”

“Of course we do, but we're not telling you,” Shuri teased, falling into step behind the other two women and pulling up her beads to secretly record. 

They walked through the palace in comfortable silence when Ashanti saw her parents near the door to the gardens.

“What are you two doing here?” she ran and hugged them.

Chidi shrugged and held out the crook of his arm for his daughter to take, and she looped her arm through his. The five of them walked through the gardens, following the purple petal road through the hedge maze. Ashanti’s heart beat faster with every step she took and she nearly burst into tears when she saw Kwame and Binta. 

“Didn’t I just see you like five minutes ago?,” Ashanti joked, greeting Binta for the second time that night. Kwame pulled her in for a tight hug and she nuzzled into his chest. She knew why her friends and family were here and she couldn’t be more thankful for being surrounded by all their love.

Ramonda and Bisa grabbed her hands and walked her into the center of the maze.

[H.E.R.]

Seh, uh

Baby, I've been fantasizing

Just looking in your eyes

You know I'm looking for more

And you're what I've been praying for

This kind of love don't come around like this

I'm not one to play around like this, it's so real

And I love how it feels

I love it when we slowly sway

I love it when we think the same thing

I love the way we move

The way we move

T’Challa stood there looking crisp as ever in his Bast-tailored black suit with his panther necklace out over his red shirt instead of a tie or scarf. Tears came to her eyes at seeing him wear her tribe’s colors as she took in the scene around them. 

The violet petals stopped in front of a pedestal with an intricate wooden box sitting atop it. He walked over to her and grabbed her hand, leading her over to the pedestal.

We can have every night, yeah

We can have every day

Ooh, I want you too

I need you

“Ashanti...kitten,” everyone in attendance aww’d with the exception of Shuri of course, whose face twisted up in disgust at the nickname. “You mean the world to me, and you have ever since I walked into your store that day. I know you already know what I’m going to say-”

She nodded, “Mhm, but go on anyway.”

[Skip Marley & H.E.R.]

Darling, slow down

Slow down, slow down

Let me love you

Let me love you

Slow down

Slow down, slow down

Let me get to know you, yeah

Baby, slow down

Everyone laughed, but there wasn’t a single dry eye in that maze.

“Ashanti Iman Mostafa-”

“Yes?” She asked through tears. Everything was happening so fast, first a baby, now this, but she knew in her heart what she wanted.

“Will you do me the honor of being my queen?” He opened the box for her and she audibly gasped.

“T’Challa! I- Oh my Bast, it’s beautiful,” tears streamed down her face as she looked at what was to be her crown. “Yes, yes of course baby.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“Yes!”

[Skip Marley & H.E.R.]

I wanna see you tomorrow

Not just the thrill of today

Don't let our love just be borrowed, no

This is the choice that we take

Girl, slow down

Let me love you

(I need you, you, you)

Darling, slow down

Let me get to know you

Let me get to know you now darling

Hey, we can have just one night

Or we can one whole life

If we play it cool, yeah

Cool (So cool, oh)

We can have that one thing

(We can have that one thing)

Or we can have everything

(We can have everything)

If our hearts are true

Yeah, girl, slow down

Their families cheered and Ramonda held up her hand so they could see N’Jadaka’s and Nakia’s holograms broadcasting from the Outreach Center. 

All the noise was lost on Ashanti and T’Challa who might as well have been alone in their own little world.

“I have one more thing for you.”

“More?”

He laughed, “Yes, more. I’ll give it to you once we get back to our room.”

“Our room,” she kissed him, “I like the sound of that.”

“Try it on!” Shuri shouted over the commotion, prompting everyone to echo her sentiment.

T’Challa lifted the crown from its silk bedding and placed it on her head, making sure it was secure.

“My baby,” Bisa cried and ran to hug her daughter. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you mama.”

Chidi joined them, and it was obvious he was trying to hold it together.

“Congratulations, nugget-” his voice hitched and Ashanti wrapped her arms around his waist just as Bisa went to hug her new son-in-law. 

She winked and whispered to him, “I told you she’d love it.”

Congratulations were thrown around and eventually their audience dissipated, leaving the two of them alone.

“So do you really like it?’ T’Challa asked nervously.

Ashanti put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her level for a kiss.

“More than anything in this world,” she kissed him again. “I can’t wait to be your queen.”

“You’ve always been my queen.”

--------

“So when are you moving in?” Bisa asked as she and Ashanti waited for the pregnancy test results. T’Challa had gotten called on a last-minute mission with the Avengers, and he almost cancelled until Ashanti urged him to go. They had been up all night, laying in bed and just staring into each other’s eyes while talking about their future. One big thing that came up was his travel for work.

“What about when you’re gone for work?”

“Well if it’s not for something dangerous, I don’t see why you two couldn’t come with me.”

“Who would be in charge then?”

“Shuri, N’Jadaka, mama, whoever. We would work it out.”

Ashanti nodded before another question dawned on her and she propped her head up on her elbow.

“What are my responsibilities as queen?”

“Mama will walk you through everything, but pretty much the same as mine, minus the Black Panther part of course. You’ll preside over council meetings and do all the boring paperwork you always see me pouring over. The good part is, you’ll only have to do half. The rest is up to you, really. Mama started a gardening initiative in the city-”

“I remember that! I didn’t realize that was her.”

“Yes, she doesn’t like to have her name attached to her projects.”

“So I take it that’s where you got your little ‘anonymous buyer’ idea from, huh?” she nudged him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he grinned. 

“Mhm, I bet.”

He smiled as his hand found its way to her stomach again.

“What do you want, boy or girl?” he asked her.

“Well the selfish part of me wants a mini-me, but the other part of me wants to see a mini-you. I don’t really care either way.”

“Mm. I wouldn’t either, but I’ve always wanted a baby girl.”

“Oh my Bast, you would spoil her rotten.”

“Like you won’t?”

“Hush,” she playfully hit his chest and looked down at the ring glistening on her finger. Every time she looked at the big, beautiful ruby resting in a nest of diamonds her heart skipped a beat. “ Ok, I have one more question…”

“I’ve got all night.”

“How soon can I move in?”

“Half of your stuff is already here, I’d say you moved in months ago. Why not go ahead and bring everything? I want my girls close by.”

Ashanti’s leg couldn’t stop bouncing, she was so anxious despite being mostly sure she already knew the answer. Still, something about waiting for test results always triggered her nerves.

“We, uh, talked about it last night actually. I didn’t really know how to bring it up to you, but I’m, uh, moving out this weekend.”

“I’m surprised you’re waiting that long,” Binta joked right as the doctor re-entered the room.

“Congratulations, Ms. Mostafa, you are definitely pregnant.”

A wave of relief washed over Ashanti at finally knowing for sure.

Pregnant.

She was going to be someone’s mother.

The thought had crossed her mind over the last day, but it didn’t really sink in until now.

Her hips would spread and her feet would swell. She’d soon outgrow her clothes and her breasts would fill with milk. She’d have cravings and kick T’Challa out of bed in the middle of the night to satisfy them. Her bladder would be crushed and her back would hurt, all for that little bundle of joy that she hoped would look like both of their parents. She felt an odd combination of calmness and anxiety at her body no longer being hers, but theirs. 

Binta shook her out of her stupor, “You ok?”

Ashanti smiled at her friend, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m having a baby,” she hugged Binta close.

“And I get to help bring them into the world!”

The two laughed and then settled in for the rest of the appointment. The doctor had plenty of questions and lots of advice, but there wasn’t much Ashanti could say seeing as how she couldn’t tell this random doctor who the father was. Then it dawned on her, would this even be a normal pregnancy? The child was half Black Panther afterall...

“Thank you Dr. Obi, you’ve been a great help,” she said as she grabbed her bag to leave.

“You are welcome, do you need me to set you up with a midwife, or do you already have one in mind?”

Ashanti’s thoughts travelled back to her conversation with T’Challa the night before.

“So is there, like, a royal midwife or something?”

“Of course. Ramla delivered me and Shuri, and I would like for her to deliver our baby as well if that is ok with you.”

She kissed him.

“That’s perfect.”

“We already have one. Thank you!” The two ladies left the office arm-in-arm and walked through the city on their way to Zana Cafe. 

“So when are you telling everybody?”

“Mama and baba already know. I got sick in the restaurant yesterday- they’ve just been waiting on me to tell them if it’s for real or not.”

“Do you want to tell them now?”

That was the one question she forgot to ask T’Challa. Did he want to wait to tell the family? Did he want to do it together?

“Not yet, I’ll wait and see what Challa wants to do.”

“You mean your fiancé? Your betrothed? Your intended-”

“Ok, ok, we get it,” Ashanti laughed at her friend as they entered her parent’s restaurant and sat in a booth towards the back. Thankfully, whatever they were cooking smelled like heaven and when Bisa brought them bowls of the fragrant lentil stew, Ashanti dug in like she hadn’t eaten in months.

“This was my mama’s recipe, you know. When I was pregnant with you, I ate it almost every day.” 

Binta laughed into her bowl at Bisa’s sly attempt.

“Really? How interesting, mama. It is delicious as always.”

“Mmhm.” Bisa turned and left the girls to their food.

“You know she knows.”

“Oh I know. You heard her, ‘when I was pregnant with you I ate it almost every day’” she mocked her mother lovingly.

Their giggling was interrupted by a text from her fiancé. 

T: How are you feeling today?

She smiled and responded.

A: Still pretty tired. Guess what...

T: What?

A: Binta and I went to the doctor. It’s official, you’re a baba!

T: Yes! I knew it. How far along are you?

A: About 9 weeks

T: That sounds about right 

A: I have a question, though…

T: The answer is probably yes…

A: It’s not a yes or no question lol. When did you want to tell people? Mama and baba kind of already know, Binta knows, why not tell everybody?

T: I am sure mama knows as well. I’ll be back tomorrow, how about we do it then?

A: Deal. 

T: I have to go now, but I’ll call you tonight, love.

 A: Be safe 

T: Always.

“Ok, he comes back tomorrow so we can do it then.”

“Ugh I have to hold this in for another day? You know how hard it is to keep something from Kwame? Damn near impossible, that’s how.”

“Well you were the one eavesdropping-”

“Ma’am I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t hear him yelling. Your man was excited.”

The two of them laughed and Ashanti’s mind drifted to how bright his face would be when they told his family. N’Jadaka and Nakia were flying in from Oakland and M’Baku was going to come down from Jabari Land to celebrate their impending union over a big celebratory dinner. Steve might even come back to Wakanda with T’Challa to join the festivities.

“So about this dinner tomorrow...who all is going to be there?”

“N’Jadaka, Nakia, M’Baku and Shani, probably Steve and Bucky, you and Kwame, mama and baba, Shuri and Queen Mother, and Okoye if she’s off.”

“Are any of them single?”

“I think N’Jadaka is. Bucky is either single or with Steve, they’re very close so it is hard to tell. I think Okoye might have someone...Why, what happened with Kiki?”

“She’s a great person, but we sort of grew apart. It was a mutual decision, we’ll still hang out from time to time,” she shrugged.

“Well that’s good, but I’m sorry about the breakup.”

“No big deal...about these single people, though.”

“I’m pretty sure N’Jadaka will fuck anything that breathes and walks on two legs.”

“As long as he has his shots, I couldn’t care less. And the White Wolf? I never thought I’d say this about a colonizer, but that man can get it. I wonder how dextrous those metal fingers are...”

Ashanti popped off her pinky, “Pretty dextrous.”

“I always forget you have that thing!”

The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter and Ashanti grabbed more bread for her stew.

--------

“Are you sure you’re ready, kitten? We can wait if you’d prefer,” T’Challa asked of his bride-to-be.

“I'm ready,” she said with a smile before grabbing his hand and signalling for the guards to open the door to the formal dining room that was much bigger than the small family dining room upstairs. All the seats were taken with the exception of the head of the table and the seat on its right hand side. They all looked up at the couple as they entered and stood to cheer for their impending union, causing Ashanti to blush.

The two took their seats and the dinner commenced. Everyone seemed to be getting along fine, including Binta and Bucky, and before the dessert course could make its way to the table T’Challa stood. He held out his hand to help Ashanti up and cleared his throat, never letting her hand go.

“We want to thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate me becoming the luckiest man in the world.”

There were chuckles around the table as Binta and Ashanti’s parents looked on expectantly. 

“But there is one last thing you all need to kn-”

“We’re having a baby!” T’Challa just couldn’t help himself, it slipped out. 

“T’Challa!”

Everyone spoke over each other and crowded around the couple, showing them love.

“I knew it!”

“Wow, congratulations!”

“My baby’s having a baby.”

“Alright! Congrats, man!”

“My little girl...making me an umakhulu.”

“Congratulations, brother.”

“I’m going to be an auntie!”

“My son…”

“My nigga…” 

Eventually the commotion died down and everyone took their seats again as the mango pudding was brought out.

“So how far along are you?” Shani asked.

“Just about nine weeks. We want to wait until I’m out of the first trimester before we tell the council, maybe even longer before we go public.”

“That’s smart. When I was pregnant with M’Bari our council practically lived in my uterus with him. Avoid that as long as you can,” she cautioned.

Ramonda looked up from her pudding to agree.

“When I was pregnant with Shuri the council found out before we could announce it to them...total disaster.”

“We trust that you all will keep this between us until we go public.” T’Challa added.

“Of course, we will,” Nakia smiled at the couple fondly.

“How have you been feeling, dear? Carrying the child of the Black Panther takes a lot out of you.”

“It does? What’s different about it?” T’Challa asked his mother.

“We’ll discuss all that later, but Ashanti are you sleeping well?”

“All I want to do is sleep.”

Binta and the mothers at the table laughed knowingly.

“That’s just how the first trimester goes, intyatyambo. You’ll have more energy in the second trimester.”

“Well I know one thing, she hates the smell of oxtails now,” Binta added.

“So do I.”

“You’re already experiencing her symptoms?”

“Woah that can happen?!” N’Jadaka asked, horrified. 

“Especially if you have the heart shaped herb in your system,” Ramonda added.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and get snipped then.”

“Good luck with that,” she laughed into her pudding. 

“So I know it’s too early to tell, but what do you think you’re having?” Nakia asked.

“I don’t know, I’m fine with whatever as long as my baby is healthy.”

“As am I,” T’Challa kissed her hand then stage whispered to the rest of the table, “Baby girl.”

A chorus of chuckles and “awww” rang out around the table once more as the king and queen-to-be smiled at each other.

“Well that was easy,” she leaned in and whispered to him while the mothers continued their back and forth over pregnancy symptoms, shocking the men without children into silence over the way they casually spoke of such horrors. 

“Now for the council.”

“You know, we could always just tell them about the wedding, have it pretty soon, then drop the baby news on them after,” she offered.

“You just can’t wait to be married to me, huh?”

“Well, that’s part of it too...I don’t want to look pregnant in our wedding pictures, so we either do it now or wait until after this baby is out.”

“Now it is, then.”

--------

“That went smoother than I thought it would…” Ashanti mused as she kicked her feet up and placed them in T’Challa’s lap when they got back to their chambers after the council meeting.

“Eh, they saw it coming. I have already referred to you as my queen multiple times.”

“You have?” her eyes lit up.

 “Yes, they needed to learn to respect you.”

She looked at him with stars in her eyes. This man, her man, was so sure in his love for her, and it made her feel safe and warm.

As usual these days, the two fell asleep just like that on the couch, but were awakened by both their beads trilling. They untangled their bodies and answered the call, seeing both of their mothers side by side.

“Where are you two? You were supposed to be here 20 minutes ago for the fittings.”

“Shit, we fell asleep. Coming, mama!” Ashanti bolted up and the king followed as they both ran out the door, down to the tailors.

“Sorry we’re late,” Ashanti said through a yawn as they finally made it to their fitting.

“Sleep again, huh?” 

“That’s all I can do these days, sleep and eat. I’m a cat,” she said, exasperated, before falling back into a soft, cushiony chair.

“No dear, you’re just carrying a panther,” Ramonda chuckled at the frustrated look on Ashanti’s face. She certainly did not miss the feeling. “So, now that you two are here we have to get you fitted for your traditional attire, your robes, and your outfits for the feast in your honor.” 

“Mama, the tailors already have my measurements, why-”

“Hush, boy. You need to be here just as much as she does.”

Ashanti chuckled at how quickly he shut up before Bisa shot her a look and she stopped, too.

“Now, T’Challa you come with me. Ashanti, you and Bisa will be meeting with Deka, one of the royal tailors. She designed my and Queen N’Yami’s wedding robes-”

“May she rest in peace,” Bisa said as Ashanti squeezed T’Challa’s hand. His biological mother wasn’t often brought up in conversations, but when she was he always grew tense. She died during childbirth and T’Challa barely made it out alive himself. Thankfully, with the help of therapy, he was able to let go of the survivor's guilt he held onto all his life.

Ramonda nodded in deference to her predecessor and introduced Deka to Ashanti and her mother. They hit it off right away, and the fitting went off without a hitch. Meanwhile, down the hall, T’Challa wasn’t having much luck with Dakarai, his usual tailor.

“Nothing looks right,” he said as he fiddled with his collar.

“That’s because your mind is elsewhere. Tell me, what is bothering you?” Ramonda asked her son as he smoothed out his sleeves. “Dakarai, could you give us the room please?”

“Absolutely, your highness. I will be in my office.”

“Thank you.” She waited for the doors to close and turned back to T’Challa. “So?”

He let out a deep sigh “I think it just hit me that I’m becoming a husband and a father at the same time.”

“It’s a lot to take in.”

“It is...I’m excited, though. I want this more than anything, but why do I feel so…”

“Stressed, nervous, immobilized by fear?”

“All of the above.” he huffed and sat down in an open chair, careful to avoid the pins in his clothing.

“Unyana,” she sat down next to him and pulled his hand into hers, “There is nothing scarier in this world than becoming a parent, but I can only speak from a mother’s perspective. Maybe you should talk with Chidi and M’Baku, hm? They have both been where you are, well not the rushed wedding, but you know what I am saying.”

“Yes, mama,” he chuckled. “That’s a good idea.”

“I have them from time to time,” she stood up and kissed the crown of his head. “I’ll go get Dakarai.”

T’Challa went to his beads the moment she turned to leave, texting both Chidi and M’Baku to see when they had time to talk. Surprisingly, M’Baku texted back almost immediately.

“M’Bari must be close by,” he thought to himself before chuckling fondly at his friend. M’Baku hated their modern technology, but entertained the kimoyo beads simply for communication purposes. He had mastered the holograms, but was still a little shaky when it came to texting. The king was used to his responses taking a while, so this was a pleasant surprise. 

His fingers were already flying across the keyboard when Chidi texted back. He was busy running the restaurant while Bisa helped with wedding plans, but offered up Zana Cafe as a meeting spot so he could still be present. T’Challa had just finished confirming plans when Ramonda and Dakarai re-entered.

“Guess what I just saw,” Ramonda sang excitedly

“What?”

“Ashanti’s dress for the feast!”

His eyes lit up at the thought and it took all his strength to keep himself from running down the hall and seeing for himself.

“Your wife-to-be looks lovely, your majesty.”

It was as if all his nerves dissipated on the spot just thinking of her, and the rest of the fitting was smooth sailing.

With only a week until the wedding, Ashanti was just as nervous as her fiancé, though her fears were a little more on the irrational side.

“But mama, what if ten years down the line he wakes up and realizes he made a huge mistake, and he’s stuck with me, but-”

“Now, sithandwa, you know that man loves you to pieces. Don’t let that baby work you up over this.”

Ashanti laughed at her foolishness, realizing her mother was right. She had been getting emotional over the littlest things for the past few days, and she knew it would just be getting worse from there.

“Do a little spin for me.”

Ashanti carefully twirled around while her mother’s proud eyes took in every inch of the gown as she turned.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, intyatyambo,” she said through the tears that quickly formed in her eyes.

Ashanti couldn’t help but cry when she saw Bisa crying, and pretty soon they were both a mess.

“My baby is getting married...starting a family of her own,” she fussed with Ashanti’s hair as she spoke. “I know you’re grown and have been for a while, but...Bast, you were just a child not that long ago! It feels like you just took your first steps, and now here you are. My baby isn't my baby anymore...my baby is having a baby.” she whispered the last past since Deka was in earshot. They laughed through their tears and embraced each other carefully to avoid causing any harm to the dress.

--------

“Thank you for coming early, M’Baku.”

“No problem, brother. Now, what is this about?” he leaned in just as Chidi came over.

“I’ll tell you what it’s about, he’s freaking out.”

“Is that true?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” T’Challa rested his head in his hand.

Both of the married men chuckled as Chidi set out food for the table. 

  “Wedding or baby?”

“Both, but mostly baby.”

“Hm. You know, the day before Bisa and I got married I had a panic attack because I didn’t think I’d make a good enough husband for her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I almost called the whole thing off. Then she called me right in the middle of it, like she could sense something was wrong. She didn’t want anything, she just missed my voice, so we ended up talking all night. Later I found out she was just as scared as I was and called to calm herself down...The point is, don’t get too into your head about it. You two love each other and that’s what matters.”

M’Baku nodded along as T’Challa ruminated on Chidi’s words.

“And as for the baby, well that is terrifying no matter how you look at it.”

“What do you mean?”

“M’Baku, don’t scare the poor man.”

“I am just being honest. Nothing can prepare you for the feeling of being a parent. You think you have an idea, but trust me, you don’t. It is the scariest, most fulfilling, draining job you will ever have. And yes, I am including running a whole country. Being a husband is not all that hard. You love and support your wife in whatever way she needs, you two work as a unit, and if problems arise there’s always couples therapy. A child, however...it’s like inviting a stranger into your home that you have to keep alive and every day they do something either extremely frustrating or terrifying or adorable.”

“Like the first time they smile at you,” Chidi added.

“Or when they call you baba for the first time. I cried like a baby.”

“And those first steps. We recorded Ashanti’s, I’ll show you later.”

“Watching their personality develop-”

“Their little shoes-”

“Hanuman, I want another...I will bring it up to Shani tonight.”

T’Challa shook his head, surprised his friend didn’t already have his own little tribe of children by now. He knew that had to be Shani’s doing.

“I’m happy we had just the one, but Ashanti always wanted to be a big sister. Thankfully her umakhulu helped us keep her from being a lonely child.”

T’Challa nodded in understanding. He knew Ashanti wanted two for that exact reason, and the thought of having another child with the love of his life warmed his heart. 

“I will use that excuse with Shani. Let’s see if it works.”

The king’s trepidations slipped away as his friend and father-in-law answered his questions on fatherhood, marriage, and surviving their wives pregnancies.

Just as M’Baku had begun describing Shani’s third trimester the rest of their party arrived.

“Let’s get this party started!” Prince N’Jadaka loudly burst through the doors flanked by his two favorite colonizers. He looked around and deflated, “You got less strippers here than I expected.”

“On that note, I’m going to take my leave. You all have fun,” he turned to T’Challa, “but not too much fun. I’m not above regicide.”

The group snickered at T’Challa and Chidi left them to their shenanigans.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Strippers, obviously. Just not in his father-in-law’s restaurant,” Bucky added with a roll of his eyes. He and the prince generally got along fine, but continuously worked each other's nerves.

“Strippers, obviously,” N’Jadaka mocked. “I know that, I mean when we going?”

“Right about now,” T’Challa said with a smile.

“To the- wait what’s this place called again?” Steve asked.

“Jungle Cat Lounge,” T’Challa snickered.

“To the Jungle Cat Lounge!”

“You ever been to a strip club before, blue eyes?” N’Jadaka antagonized Steve.

“Well, no, but uh-”

The prince clapped him on the back and smiled devilishly, “You’re in for a good time, man.”

The lounge had been shut down for the private party of five, with all the best dancers performing for their king and his guests. T’Challa and M’Baku mostly just threw money around and appreciated the womens’ athleticism on the pole, meanwhile the other three had the time of their lives. N’Jadaka was right at home as he got lap dance after lap dance and eventually disappeared with one of the girls for a private dance. Bucky and Steve’s eyes were bugged out of their head most of the time and T’Challa laughed at the dumbstruck looks on their faces. Despite the fact that he doesn’t drink and could care less about the dancers in his face, he was having a good time out with his friends until the thought of Ashanti crossed his mind and he had the strongest urge to be with her. He decided to text her to check in.

T: How are my girls?

He figured she was probably busy with her friends at her own party, but her text came back with a quickness.

A: What a coincidence, I was just about to text you. And we don’t know for sure about the baby yet, Challa!

T: Is everything ok?

A: Yes, you just crossed my mind.

M’Baku looked over and noticed the king smiling at his beads.

“How is she?”

“Hm?” T’Challa saw the smirk on his friend’s face and knew he’d been caught. “Oh, uh, she’s good. Just missed me, that’s all.”

“She missed you or you missed her?”

“Yes,” the king chuckled into his glass of club soda. 

“I was the same way. My brothers took me out the night before my wedding, too...all I wanted was to be with my Shani.”

T’Challa nodded, “These women are beautiful, of course, but I’m enjoying their reactions more than anything.” He pointed over to his American friends who were both surrounded by women, mouths hanging open in disbelief at all the ass gyrating in their faces.

“They are quite entertaining,” M’Baku laughed at the two of them before taking a sip of his rum. “I used to enjoy places like this, but it’s not the same anymore.”

T’Challa nodded in agreement and went back to his beads.

T: It must be because I miss you. 

A: Strippers not doing it for you?

T: Not this time, I’d rather be with you.

A: Well after tomorrow you’re stuck with me forever…

T: Sounds like a good way to spend eternity

A:  You flatter me, kumkani

T: That’s not all I want to do to you.

A: You just can’t behave, can you?

T: Nope. 

A: You’ll survive a little longer.

T: Will I?

A: This whole “no sex until the wedding” thing was your idea. You’re such a drama queen.

T: I’m your drama queen 

A: And don’t you forget it. Well, the girls just left and I can barely keep my eyes open. I’ll probably be knocked out when you get back, so good night kumkani.

T: Sweet dreams, kitten.

--------

The next morning the couple was awakened by heavy knocking.

“Get up, busy day ahead!” Ramonda called through the door. T’Challa grunted and rolled over to look at the time, sprouting up when he saw it was half past 9 already. He tried to wake Ashanti but lately she had been sleeping like the dead.

“My love, it’s time to wake up,” he sang as he kissed all over her face. “I get to marry you today, so get up. We’re already late for our rituals.”

She groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

“That’s it. Come on, we’re late. It’s already 9:30,” he said hopping out of bed. “I’ll start the shower.”

Ashanti dragged herself to the bathroom and they quickly showered together and were ready in time for N’Jadaka to bang on the door.

“Yo, Auntie said if y’all don’t come on I can break down the door-”

Ashanti yanked the door open and glared at her cousin to be, “Don’t even try it.”

“Someone’s in a mood on this joyous day.”

“Don’t antagonize pregnant women, umzala,” T’Challa sauntered over and clapped his younger cousin on the shoulder before the three of them headed down to the dining room where everyone was finishing up their meal.

“Well mholo to you both,” Nakia said as she looked up from her conversation with M’Baku. She had been the first to notice the couple enter and soon after a chorus of good mornings filled the air.

After breakfast Kwame and the women went one direction as the rest of the men escorted T’Challa back to his chambers to get him ready for the day. Ashanti and her group travelled to her parents’ home where they had laid out all the necessary items for their ritual.

First, Shani drew her a warm bath filled with coconut milk, special herbs, and flowers, then they all prayed over her as her mother washed her from head to toe. Next, they cleansed the air with incense smoke as Ashanti meditated and allowed her body to air dry from her spiritually cleansing bath. Ramonda wrapped her in a silk robe as Nakia dried her hair and styled it in bantu knots that she would take down the next day to have beautiful fluffy curls. Shuri painted her toes while Kwame painted her fingers and Binta painted ancient symbols onto the rest of her body in white clay.

Bisa and Ramonda recorded the beautiful moment on their beads, and when they were done and Ashanti was all made up Bisa tried her best not to cry, but failed. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as the mother and daughter embraced each other once more, careful to avoid smudging any of her body paint. Bisa held her daughter’s head in her hands and wiped her tears away.

“My baby girl.”

Meanwhile, at the palace, Steve and Bucky were very uncomfortable at seeing more of T’Challa’s body than they had ever hoped. Especially Steve, since he hadn't realized just how...free the Wakandans were. N’Jadaka ran the bath before Chidi washed T’Challa just like Bisa did with their daughter. The men prayed their blessings over him and when he was done, M’Baku lined the king up. After he got dressed in his traditional shorts, N’Jadaka placed the original Black Panther necklace on him as Chidi dipped his brush into the white clay to start painting T’Challa’s face and body.

After the two were made up and covered in the blessings of their loved ones, each group travelled to the City of the Dead to begin the ceremony. 

T’Challa arrived first, taking his position at the temple doors and waiting for his betrothed. She arrived shortly after, and when their eyes met and they took in each other's forms they both started to cry. Here they were, in their wedding paint, about to face Bast’s judgement together.  T’Challa’s hand found its way to the fertility symbol Binta had painted over her womb and he planted a light kiss on her lips.

“You ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

He kissed her again and grabbed her hand before signalling the priestesses to open the doors. The two of them stepped into the temple, leaving their loved ones behind at the door, and followed the high priestess Hasina deep into the catacombs. They arrived at the garden of the heart-shaped herb and Ashanti was in awe at the sight before her, never having seen one in real life before.

“So this is where the magic happens?” Ashanti asked, trying to keep it light to calm her nerves.

“Quite literally, sister Ashanti,” Hasina winked at her. “You will see.”

Hasina instructed them to lay next to each other and hold hands while they were both given a concoction that would take them to the ancestral plane. The last thing Ashanti saw before she shut her eyes was the warm red sand covering her body.

She felt a squeeze in her right hand and sat up from the dirt, taking in her surroundings. She had been here before of course, but the circumstances were very different and she wasn't able to really appreciate it for all its beauty. Her mouth hung open as she marveled at the purple skies and the acacia tree in the distance filled with panthers lazing on the limbs. Three panthers jumped down and made their way over to the couple, making Ashanti move in closer to T’Challa for protection.

“It's ok, look,” he pointed as the panther closest to Ashanti stood up and transformed into Taj.

“Umakhulu!” Ashanti almost tackled him with a hug. She turned back around to bring T’Challa forward and panicked upon seeing tears stream down his face. “Baby, what-”

She stopped herself when she noticed the two people standing in front of him and the dam behind her eyes broke, too. There she was, Queen N’Yami in all her regal glory, meeting her son for the first time. 

T’Challa was frozen on the spot. He felt a light touch on his arm and looked down to see Ashanti smiling back up at him. He took a deep breath and looked towards his parents as T’Chaka spoke up,“T’Challa, there is someone you should meet. This is your-”

“Mama...I know…”

N’Yami stepped forward, placing her hands lightly around her son’s face.

“Everything I went through and he has the nerve to look just like you, T’Chaka.”

The former king laughed and shook his head.

“Now N’Yami, you cannot possibly think those eyes are mine.”

“I suppose,” she continued to examine him with a smile on her face. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her voice cracked. “I missed so much...I am sorry, unyana, but it was my time.”

“I know, mama,” the king croaked out. “I just- I needed you.” He broke down in his mother’s arms as Taj held Ashanti close, wiping her tears away. T’Challa and N’Yami’s sobs filled the ancestral plane and the more they cried the more relief washed over both of them. When their tears subsided, T’Challa looked towards his love and her grandfather, both of whom had tears in their eyes as well. He smiled and reached his hand out for her to take, and when she did he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Mama, baba...this is-”

“We know exactly who this is. Ashanti, my dear, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“We’ve heard so much about you.” N’Yami sent a wink Taj’s way. 

Ashanti greeted them both with the Wakandan salute and stepped forward. They pulled her into a hug just as Taj did the same for T’Challa.

“My boy, it is good to see you.”

“You as well, sir. And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making her come back home when she wanted to stay here.”

“I just knew she had a lot more living to do.”

The five of them continued to get acquainted with each other when T’Chaka noticed the colors of the sky changing.

“She will be here soon.”

“Who?”

“The goddess.”

Ashanti’s throat closed up and T’Challa grabbed her hand in his before bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“It’ll be fine, kitten.”

She nodded and took a deep breath, pushing her nerves away when all of a sudden a huge panther could be seen on the horizon. The five of them waited hand-in-hand as she approached and when she got close enough for them to reach out and touch her, she stood up and transformed into a statuesque woman with the head of a jaguar. Her gold bangles stood out against her dark skin and her naked body seemed to glow. 

She said no words as she examined the couple, staring into their innermost selves. A smile appeared on her face as she nodded to Ashanti and backed up, turning back into her jaguar form and walking back the way she came.

“T-that was it?” Ashanti asked, unsure of what just happened.

“That was it, nugget. She would have ripped your head off if she didn’t like you.”

Ashanti’s eyes grew wide and she turned to T’Challa who was shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

“Not literally, but I knew she’d like you.” he said nonchalantly.

“Especially with my umzukulwana in there,” N’Yami pointed to Ashanti’s belly. “May I?”

“Of course, I’m still in my first trimester so there’s not much to-”

Ashanti felt a tingling in her stomach when N’Yami touched her.

“Would you like to know what you are having?”

“You can tell already?” T’Challa chimed in.

“Of course I can,” she winked, “Now, would you like to know or not?”

The couple looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

When they burst through the sands back in Wakanda they were greeted by cheering from the priestess and temple aides. T’Challa helped her up and they dusted themselves off before going to rejoin their family members that were waiting anxiously outside. Upon leaving the temple they were immediately bombarded with hugs and congratulations from their loved ones, but they were both still in a daze.

A baby girl.

They both always wanted a baby girl and now here she was, slowly making her way into the world through them. Neither could contain their excitement, so when N’Jadaka asked who they saw, they almost didn’t hear him. Ashanti was the first to come out of their daze and answer.

“We saw my umakhulu...and T’Challa’s mama and baba. They all said hello.”

There was a moment of silence while everybody registered what she had said. The king had finally met his birth mother, and the thought made most of their eyes get mistier than they already were.

“That’s wonderful,” Ramonda smiled at her son and he smiled back. He had always wished that Ramonda had been his birth mother, but now he knew he was blessed to have two mothers. One in the ancestral plane watching over him, and the other right in front of him supporting everything he does. 

Ashanti’s eyes finally travelled from her loved ones to the darkening sky, “How long were we in there?”

“About 4 hours, time moves differently in the ancestral plane. Come, it’s almost dinner time.” Ramonda answered, gesturing for them to get moving back towards their transportation. 

“What were you all doing all that time?”

“Oh we had our own little party out here while we waited,” Chidi chimed in.

The entire wedding party made its way back to the palace for a celebratory meal and Ashanti felt her nerves slowly creep back up on her thinking about the next couple days.

Only one down, two more to go.

--------

The public ceremony went by in a blur. Ashanti just remembered them being paraded around the city on palanquins before being brought back to the palace steps to be given away. Chidi and Bisa gave Ashanti away while Ramonda and a surprisingly emotional N’Jadaka gave away the king, but the rest of it sort of flew by. As far as she was concerned, the real wedding was yesterday and this was just for show.

The coronation was another story. When the boats arrived at the drained waterfall and hovered down to drop the tribes off in their respective areas, Ashanti felt the knot in her stomach get even more twisted. She looked over at T’Challa who seemed cool as a cucumber, and she realized it wasn’t morning sickness. Just nerves. Becoming T’Challa’s wife hadn’t shaken her in such a way, but becoming his queen and ruling beside him was definitely causing some anxiety to surface.

“I can hear you thinking too much,” T’Challa said, kissing her hand as they disembarked and walked to the center of the falls.

“I’m trying not to, this is just a lot.”

“I know, kitten,” he kissed her forehead. “Just think about all the fun we can have after.” he winked and she chuckled. Just how he could think about sex at a time like this, she would never understand. 

He stepped forward to address the crowd and Ashanti zoned out, catching every other word until it was her time to act. She stepped forward and Hasina brought out the wooden box that held her crown and passed it to Chidi. He opened it and Bisa carefully secured the crown on her daughter’s head, making sure the panther teeth were standing tall in their gilded foundation. Ashanti turned to bow to Queen Mother, whose snow white locs were flowing down her back, no longer hidden under her crown of choice.  

“You will make an excellent queen, my dear.”

“Thank you, Ramonda.”

Then she turned to her husband, her king, and he pulled her in for a deep kiss, making the crowd go wild.

“I told you you’ve always been my queen.” he pecked her lips before letting her go. They turned back to the crowd and nodded to each other before crossing their hands over their chests.

“Wakanda forever!” they shouted as Wakandans everywhere, whether watching from the falls, from home, and even the war dogs overseas, saluted them back enthusiastically. Mostly. There were a couple who were less than excited about the goings on, but they kept their contempt to themselves.

Finally, there was the feast. Ashanti looked regal in her panther tooth crown and hand-beaded and embroidered royal purple gown, and T’Challa looked every bit a king in his matching suit and panther claw necklace.

After days of ripping and running all over Wakanda for this wedding, Ashanti wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next week and stuff her face full of food. She was thankful her baby girl had been on her best behavior and didn’t make her sick at all during the proceedings of the last few days. She hoped her luck would continue into the feast, though they made absolute sure no beef was on the menu. 

The king and queen danced and filled their bellies all night before saying good night to their loved ones and sneaking upstairs around midnight. On any normal night they’d be tearing at each other's clothes in the elevator, but this time they were so tired that had they not been in uncomfortable formal clothes they would’ve just fallen flat on the bed.

T’Challa helped her out of her dress and heels and she undid the buttons on his tunic. They crawled into bed naked and laid in their usual position before drifting off to sleep.

The next day, the King and Queen of Wakanda lazed about in their bed, so drained by the last few days that the two introverts just laid there in silence exchanging light kisses and even lighter touches. They had their breakfast brought to them in bed before they showered and got ready together, still in comfortable silence. Nobody spoke until both of their beads rang as they were leaving their room. He cleared his throat as they activated their communication beads.

“Good morning lovebirds, the Talon is ready for you whenever you wish to depart.”

“Thank you, general. We will be down shortly,” T’Challa spoke to Okoye’s hologram before her image disappeared. They were going away for two weeks, to a private island off the coast of Greece, and T’Challa was more than happy to travel for pleasure instead of work like he normally does. He couldn’t wait to see her laid out on the white sand beach, her beautiful dark skin contrasting with the bright blue and white background.

Ashanti paused on the way to the door, “Do we have everything?” 

“We have everything we need, love,” he said as he kissed her forehead and reached for the door to hold it open for her. His arms found their way around her waist in the elevator and he rested his head on top of hers while rubbing her slightly bloated-looking belly with his large hands.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Hm?”

“Touching my belly, your hand almost always goes straight to her.”

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it this time,” he chuckled in disbelief.

“I don't mind, it’s good for her to get to know you. You should try talking to her.”

“She doesn’t have ears yet-”

“Neither do plants, but they still respond to sound.”

He nodded, taking in her words and letting her go, turning her around and lowering to his knee.

“Hello babygirl, it’s your baba,” he kissed Ashanti’s belly and her hand cupped the back of his head as he spoke. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

He stood and kissed his queen before pulling back just as the elevator stopped on the ground floor, “Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome,” she giggled out and he smiled at the cute little crinkle above her nose when she laughed. He hoped his babygirl took after her mother.

The two aforementioned lovebirds strode through their palace hand in hand with huge smiles on their faces. They made their way to the Talon and were seen off by all their loved ones before heading to their Grecian honeymoon. As soon as they arrived on the island Ashanti was mesmerized by the beauty of it all, eyes wide like a child taking in everything around her. When they got to the villa she could have cried, and almost did. The blue and white building was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the most beautiful beach Ashanti had ever seen.

“I’ve never been to a beach before...this is…” she couldn’t find the words, so she hugged him tight instead. “Thank you Challa!”

“Anything for you, my love.”

She kissed him, and the kiss turned hot and passionate. She could tell he was getting worked up, so she pulled her lips from his.

“Give me the tour?”

“I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to fuck you in every room in this villa,” he whispered into her ear as she giggled at the feel of his breath on her. He backed her up to a wall and leaned into it, trapping her with his body. 

“Let’s start in the bedroom and go from there,” she whispered back and he quickly grabbed her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist before taking off down the hall.

T’Challa dropped her on the bed and when she tried to sit up, he lightly pushed her back down so that she sat up on her elbows. He leaned over and slipped her his tongue while running his hand up and down her thighs. 

He pulled back and kissed along her collarbone as he spoke, “Will you let me worship your body? Show you how much I love you?”

She nodded, biting her lip, “Yes kumkani.”

He pressed a kimoyo bead and “Slow Down” started to play through the villa. She smiled wide at their song as he kissed down her clothed body, all the way down to her ankles before unbuckling her sandals and sliding them off slowly. He kissed and massaged her feet for a few minutes and Ashanti moaned from the feeling of his strong hands kneading her flesh. He moved his lips up to her calves and his gifted hands followed before moving up to her thighs. Her moans grew louder as his lips peppered her inner thighs with kisses, moving up towards her naked pussy, but skipping it and kissing her stomach. He kissed his way to her breasts as he removed her skirt and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Challa, please,” she begged as he pulled her top off and took her nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around her pebbled bud while his fingers tweaked her other one.

“Uh-uh, you said I could worship your body. That’s what I’m doing,” he said as he worked his way up to her collarbone, kissing her from shoulders to her fingertips. He picked her up and flipped her over before kissing down her back to her luscious ass, biting each cheek for good measure.

“Ass up, kitten,” he said, getting her into position. “Spread your legs...that’s it.” T’Challa instantly buried his face in her pussy from behind, causing her to cry out to Bast at the way his thick tongue worked her center. He moaned as he ate, the vibration stimulating her clit even more, and as his tongue slowly made its way inside her she let out a deep moan from the depths of her soul at the way it flickered across her g-spot.

“If this is how you fuck your wife I should've married you years ago,” she joked through her moans. He chuckled, but didn’t break his concentration on the job at hand. His fingers slid up and down the top of her erect clit, coming down to pull back the hood and suck on it like he was starving for what she had to give. 

“Mmmm, kumkani, you’re gonna make me-” she cut herself off with a high pitched scream as an ocean poured out of her. Her body contracted and convulsed as she covered him in her wetness. When she looked back she could see the liquid dripping down his face and onto his bare chest. She had no idea when he got naked, but as usual she was thankful for the sight of her husband’s naked body. She attempted to turn over, but he stopped her.

“Stay just like that,” his voice was a low grumble at this point. His hands found their home at the dip of her hips and he teased her entrance with the head of his meaty dick.

“Babyyyy,” she complained as her hips wound back into him. 

“Patience, kitten. I want to take my time with you.”

He straddled her as he slowly slid into her warmth and they both let out a moan of relief at the feeling of him being sheathed inside her once more. His hips rocked slowly into hers, stirring her insides and making her whimper under him. He leaned down and nibbled on her earlobe as he whispered to her.

“I love you so much.”

“You take me so well.”

“Mmm, Ashanti you feel so good around me.”

“You like it deep like this?”

She tried to answer him, but couldn't.

“That’s ok, kitten, kumkani understands,” he chuckled, his hips rolling impossibly deeper into her.

“I-I-”

“What is it? Hm?” he picked up the pace a little and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he thrusted into her. 

“S-stay right t-there.”

“You like this spot right here?” 

“Yes!”

“Anything for you, kitten.”

T’Challa’s precision was out of this world, hips reaching that exact spot over and over making her toes curl as he pounded her harder with each thrust. His hand wrapped around the front of her throat and pulled her head up to meet his. His tongue left his mouth and met hers for a sloppy kiss, and as they explored each other’s mouths she took his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. He growled at the pain and thrust faster. She was right on the edge and he knew that what he was going to say next would take her over the edge.

“Will you let me fill this pussy up?”

She cried out, orgasm approaching.

“I want you overflowing with my cum. I want you sloppy, I want it dripping down your legs-”

“Yes.”

“You want me to cum in your pussy?”

“Please, kumkani,” she gritted out, hands holding onto the sheets for dear life as his hips slowed back down, bringing her to a long and drawn out orgasm as he spilled his seed deep inside of her. He pulled out and flipped her over, hooking his hands under her knees. Her hands went around his neck as he picked her up and placed her down on his dick. He controlled the maddeningly slow pace and she stared into his almost black eyes in disbelief. No matter how many times they fucked, he always managed to make her body feel like it was the first time. 

“You feel so good,” she huffed out as he repeatedly brought her down onto his thick, pulsating dick. He turned his back towards the bed and sat down, leaning back and allowing Ashanti to have the floor. 

Her hips cycloned round and round like a corkscrew, pushing him deep and using his dick to reach all her favorite spots. 

T’Challa couldn’t help but to take in her beauty as she rode him. He wondered how her body would feel as it changed and grew, and he couldn’t wait to find out. Her pudgy stomach would grow rounder, as would her already heavy breasts. She would look even more like a goddess than she already does, and he wanted to worship at her feet.

His hands gripped her hips as she bounced up and down on him, tightening her kegel muscles as she rose and relaxing them as she met him pelvis to pelvis.

His hand found its way to her throat and he lightly pulled her down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and spread his legs, giving himself the leverage he needed to really give it to her how he wanted. Their kiss intensified as his hips moved inside her and she moaned into his mouth. His thrusts went deeper and her eyes began to fill with tears that eventually streamed down her face. T’Challa was used to this by now and kissed away his wife’s tears as he fucked her deeper and deeper.

He could feel Ashanti clenching around him and sped his hips up, causing her to scream out.

“T’Challa!”

He chuckled. He loved when she forgot herself and called him the wrong name, and normally he would punish her for it, but he let it slide this time.

Her body spasmed again and a high-pitched moan escaped her lips as he pushed her over the edge. He wasn’t too far behind, releasing inside her with a growl.

The king and queen stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, still connected, until they drifted off to sleep. A couple hours later, Ashanti was awakened by the feel of his dick moving inside her.

“Mmm, kumkaniiii,” she whined as his hips rolled into hers.

“Wake up, love. We should eat something,” he said, looking at the time.

“Ok, but since you started it-” Ashanti rolled her hips and pulled a moan out of him. The two of them went a couple more rounds before finally separating and making their way into the kitchen for some food. The entire honeymoon went like that: they’d lay naked on the beach in the mornings, and fuck most of the day away between meals. When it was time to leave Ashanti almost couldn’t let go of the time they spent there together.

“We can always come back, love,” he said as he kissed her temple and grabbed her hand, walking her back to the Talon and to their new lives as King and Queen of Wakanda.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

 @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @ljstraightnochaser, @determinednot2fall

[ddagent]

Jaime tries to surprise Brienne for Valentine’s Day with a romantic dinner in her apartment and has to contend with her curious pet cat.

Thank you for the prompt, Anon! I hope you enjoy my take on it. 

Jaime quickly realised why Brienne did not allow people back into her apartment. 

Ever since Brienne had started at King’s Landing University a year ago, it had been a running joke. At first, they’d assumed she was shy. Recently returning from an archaeological dig in Ancient Valyria, Professor Tarth was competent if not compelling. But as the year had gone on and she had insistently turned down offers to host the weekly moderation-slash-potluck, a different kind of pot had started. Bodies in the freezer, a partner she didn’t want anyone to meet, truly horrendous taste in furniture...these theories and many more were bandied about by the department. Jaime had never much cared until he and Brienne had grown closer and yet...still no invitation. 

He could see why now. 

“Hello...” he murmured in a low voice to the half-foot tall dragon that had backed him into a corner. “Aren’t you a...pretty thing.”

In truth, the dragon was reminiscent of the beautiful drawings Jaime and his brother, Tyrion, had poured over as children. Black, bottomless eyes; scales the colour of molten gold that shifted red in the light. It was a thing of beauty – and power. He had worked on sites where the dragons of old had decimated the population. He had dug up the bodies of the Dragon Queen’s victims near Highgarden; had examined the shields burnt black with flame. But this was not the fully-fledged dragons that had resurged during the War of the Three Queens. This was barely bigger than a cat. 

“Now, now, little one,” he said, rising to his feet slowly. “I am just going to take a step towards the door and go home. That’s all.”

But as he turned towards Brienne’s front door, abandoning the groceries he had brought to make a romantic Maiden’s Day feast, he realised there was more than one. Two other dragons stood in his path. The first had blue scales almost the same shade of Brienne’s eyes; the other was jet black and seemed to stare into Jaime’s very soul. He edged forwards towards the door, hoping he could evade them, when his foot caught on the rug. 

Sprawling across the floor, Jaime’s head hit hardwood. As six dragons focussed into three, he watched with terror as they approached his face. “Oh, fuck.” He didn’t want to die like this. Didn’t want Brienne to come home and find him half-eaten by her pets. He’d wanted her to come home from her late class to a romantic dinner. Music, sunflowers, wine. Three little words he’d wanted to say for some time...

“Don’t eat me.”

 --

Brienne checked her phone as she got off the tube and began the slow walk to her apartment. She usually kept her phone off during seminars and one of her students, Podrick, had drawn her into conversation all the way from campus to her home at Visenya’s Hill. But now she was free to look at her phone and the string of messages from Jaime. She’d disliked him immensely at first; found him rude and arrogant if blindingly attractive. But he had a romantic heart under his armour, and she’d found herself softening as they co-taught a class on romanticism in the Dragon Age. 

Jaime ♥: Missed you today in class, Professor. Someone was talking smack about the Blue Knight and I almost, almost sent him to your class so he could learn something.  Jaime ♥: But then I realised, if anyone’s getting sent to your class, it’s going to be ME.  Jaime ♥: Hope your last class goes okay.  Jaime ♥: Oh, and Happy Maiden’s Day, Professor. Want to talk about the historical development of the day as a romantic holiday with our clothes off? 

Brienne laughed, shaking her head at her Jaime. With her late class and his six am tutorials, neither had pushed to make plans. But if Jaime wanted her to come over, she certainly would oblige. 

Jaime ♥: There’s a romantic surprise waiting at your apartment, Professor. You should come and unwrap it ;)

Eyes widening, Brienne stared at Jaime’s last message. “No, no, no, no, no...” Shoving her phone back into her bag, Brienne sprinted the last few streets to her apartment. 

While taking part in a dig in Ancient Valyria, Brienne had uncovered three dragon eggs perfectly preserved. The dig’s leader, a particularly odious man by the name of Randyll Tarly, had declared them nothing more than tourist trash. He’d encouraged her to throw them aside. Something had called to Brienne, however, and she’d kept the eggs. Vindication and validation had quickly followed. 

Along with three carnivorous pets. 

Pushing her way through the front door of her apartment building, Brienne skipped the lift and threw herself up the three flights of stairs. Her place was at the far end of the corridor; light and soft music floating underneath the door. Maybe he hadn’t found them. Maybe they’d remained in the spare bedroom with the chew toys. Maybe—

“Here we go, Gerion; that’s a good boy. How does that taste?”

Brienne stepped into her apartment to find Jaime Lannister cooking a romantic meal with her three dragons sitting atop the counter. Gerion, with his golden scales, jumped up to catch the pieces of steak Jaime was throwing from the pan. Elenei, who reminded Brienne of the waters of Tarth, had her head in Jaime’s oven glove. Galladon was butting a sunflower from a nearby bouquet with his head. 

“Jaime?”

“Brienne!” He grinned, threw another slice of steak to Gerion to catch, before crossing the distance to take her hands in his. “First of all, I want to apologise for breaking into your apartment. I thought it would be charming and romantic.”

“You can see why I haven’t invited anyone round.”

“Of course. I honestly thought they were going to eat me to start with. But then they just started licking my face and chewing on my shoelaces, and here we are.” He rubbed his thumbs over the inside of her wrists and placed a featherlight kiss to her lips. “Happy Maiden’s Day, Brienne. There’s half-eaten flowers on the kitchen island and dinner is nearly ready.”

Brienne nodded, approaching the scene with trepidation, as Jaime returned to the stove. A romantic dinner for two had been set up in the living room: candles, romantic music, an expensive bottle of wine. Sunflowers lay strewn across the floor, and half of their dinner looked like it had been devoured by her dragons. Brienne’s journals, detailing their growth and activities, lay open near the sink. Jaime had clearly done his reading. 

“Now, Elenei, I’m going to need those gloves back. I’m not impervious to heat or fire.” The dragon playfully nipped at Jaime’s fingers before jumping down from the kitchen top to attack Jaime’s expensive loafers. “Gerion, I can’t feed you any more; I’m sorry. But if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you have some marshmallows later.” 

“You brought marshmallows?”

Jaime nodded. “And other things we could dip in chocolate. Thought it would be romantic.”

As he ushered Galladon off the counter so he could plate their dinner, Brienne was overwhelmed by how lucky she was. Anyone else would have called the Gold Cloaks. But not Jaime. He treated them as if they were just exotic pets that Brienne had around the house rather than the fire-breathing, life-destroying monsters they would grow up to be. He smiled at her, as warm as always, and pulled out a seat for her to take at their romantic table for two. 

“Wine?”

“I love you.”

Jaime’s grin split from ear to ear. Her dragons, who had seemingly taken to Jaime quicker than she had, puffed in approval. “I love you, too.”

[demonologist-in-denim]

Humming to himself, Crowley dusted the rich dark cocoa powder into the soft white flour, and reached for his trusty wooden spoon. Blending ingredients in a mixer tended to create a smoother batter, but Crowley enjoyed the feel of the spoon in his hand, the sound it made scraping the bottom of the bowl, the hands-on experience of turning flour and sugar and eggs into cake.

When the dry ingredients were properly combined, he made a well in the center and carefully poured in the buttermilk, eggs, butter and vanilla. Instead of the usual red food coloring, Crowley added in fresh beet puree – just enough to give the cake a velvety ruby hue. The rich cocoa would cover the hint of earth with a delicate chocolate flavor. The mixture was then evening distributed between three pans and scooched into the oven.

While the cakes baked, he set to work on the frosting. The softened cream cheese and unsalted butter whipped together beautifully. He settled on using far less powdered sugar than the recipe called for, wanting the tangy sweetness of the cream cheese to accent the cake all on its own.

“Would have asked about any preferences in decoration,” Crowley muttered to himself as he applied the crumb coating to the cake, once it was done baking and properly cooled, “but that would have tipped my hand.” Simple yet elegant seemed appropriate. After applying a thick final layer of cream cheese frosting, Crowley piped fluffy buttercream swirls along the rim of the red velvet cake. A soft pile of crumbled extra cake crowned the top, and he tossed more along the side to create a dusting effect.

There was nothing left now except to take the photo.

Which, as fate would have it, turned out to be the difficult part.

He positioned the cake on the kitchen table, and snapped a few photos. Crowley hmmmed to himself.  It wasn’t quite up to his standard of food porn. Perhaps he’d take a few more, just to be on the safe side. Until one was suitably flattering. He was still adjusting the cake, playing with the proper angle and lighting for the perfect shot, when Sam and Dean strolled into the kitchen.

For a moment, they lingered at a respectful distance. But Crowley could sense their curiosity like a gathering storm of rose petals, soft yet burdensome.

“Can I help you two with something?”

Disbelief and delight were tugging a one-sided smile out of Sam. “Is – is that for Valentine’s Day?”

Valentine’s Day? Crowley narrowed his eyes at the elegant dessert. Bloody hell, the cake was red and white, wasn’t it? He hadn’t considered that when a bit of carefully applied questioning had disclosed the recipient’s cake preferences.

Crowley mulled the situation over. He couldn’t answer in the affirmative. That would mean he had intentionally crafted the cake as a celebration of gushy hearts and the sweet delirium of – internally, Crowley cringed – love. But he also couldn’t reply with a defensive and definitive “no”. That would only open him up to further, unwelcome inquiry.

He settled for the more characteristically dismissive third option.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” Crowley steadfastly went back to attempting to capture the perfect photo with his phone. “I don’t bother myself keeping track of that sort of thing.”

Dean eyed the demon knowingly. “Yeah, well, our Netflix recommendations would say otherwise.”

Crowley glowered at the hunter.

“Whatever the occasion,” Sam offered up as his brother idled over to the cake, “that’s professional-grade baking. You’ve got a real talent. The frosting, the whole look? Seriously, I’m impressed.”

The arrow of this flannelled cupid hit its mark. Crowley felt a slight blush of pleasure, despite himself. Casual, unsolicited praise? From Sam Winchester? He seriously contemplated the possibility that Sam had been exposed to some sort of low-grade, poorly-concocted love spell that had bloomed into amiability, or maybe it had been released as a pink mist in the bunker’s common room, and Crowley had unknowingly avoided the worst of it. That seemed like the sort of malarkey that would happen around here on what, apparently, was Valentine’s Day.

Because Crowley found himself saying, “Thank you, Sam,” with actual sincerity. Moments such as these reminded Crowley that he was rather fond of these two boys, after all.

That was the moment Dean ran his finger along the edge of the cake, carrying off a large dollop of frosting from one side. The whole cake just looked so enticing! Dean was more of a pie man himself, but Crowley’s culinary expertise had the tendency to tempt him in surprising ways.

He was halfway to lifting the frosting-festooned finger to his mouth when he caught sight of the expression on Crowley’s face. Sam’s own face was a rotting lemon. Dean’s hand stilled, mouth still open.

“Um,” he muttered.

Dean looked at the offending finger, uncertain of what to do next. He started to put the frosting back where it belonged, thought better of it, looked for a napkin, and reluctantly settled for ashamedly completing the crime by depositing the frosting in his mouth.

Which was a mistake. Because now he knew the cake was friggin’ delicious, and Dean seriously wondered if maybe Crowley could manage his little photo shoot even if there was a slice of the cake missing.

As if he could read his brother’s mind, Sam shook his head in the most supreme disappointment. “Dean.”

“What?! Sorry!”

Reminding himself that murdering one Winchester brother would only end with him being ganked by the other one – though there were certainly times it seemed worth it – Crowley took a deep inhalation, and let it go. Cakes were ultimately meant to be eaten, even if it was by inconsiderate louts and lumberjacks.

“I’ll accept your apology, if you cut everyone else a slice before digging in yourself. I’m sure one of the photos I took before your little indiscretion will suffice.”

“Alright! Cake!” Dean cheered, while Sam just closed his eyes.

Crowley thumbed through the multitude of pictures he’d taken, and settled on the most appealing of the lot. Then he opened up his Bumblr app, and made a new post:

@petrichoravellichor – in honor of your birthday today. Heard from a mutual that you have a particular fondness for red velvet cake. Hope it’s to your liking. – C

He sent the message and image off with a satisfied smile, then set about getting plates and forks, as this cake was obviously not going to survive the interest of the Winchester brothers much longer.

As Crowley was pulling plates out of the cupboard and Dean was cutting into the cake, Castiel wandered into the kitchen, attention entirely given over to his phone. The angel had graduated from texting and emojis to social media and memes, and sometimes he could be found scrolling through Twitter and Instagram with a rapt fascination that would out-fixate even the most plugged-in FOMO-obsessed teenager. There was a chiming sound as he entered the kitchen, as notification of a new post.

“Dude,” Dean was grinning from ear to ear, “Crowley made cake!” He pointed with delight at the dessert.

Cas looked up from his phone, saw the cake, and halted in the middle of the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes, examining the red velvet cake on the table in front of him. Then he looked back down at his phone in consternation. Cas looked at the cake again. Looked back at his phone, and then slowly, he looked at Crowley.

The demon looked from the angel to the cake, his eyes increasing in size as realization dawned.

“Is that – ?”

“Don’t you say one bloody word, angel!” Crowley blustered, a rush of red to his face further colored by the mortification of such abject exposure. “Not one word!”

And before anyone could say anything else, Crowley shoveled a huge slice of not-at-all birthday cake onto a plate, shoved it into Cas’ hand, and quickly excused himself from the kitchen.

“What,” Sam wondered to the startled room, “was that all about?”

Cas continued to stand in the middle of the room, cake in one hand and phone in the other, attempting to come to terms with having inadvertently discovered a fandom mutual was also a real-life friend, and the one he would have least expected. Unsettled, he took comfort in the certainty their shared mutual would appreciate the well wishes on their birthday.

Dean shrugged, merrily flipped the serving knife in his hand, then waved the tip at his brother. “That’s Crowley for you,” he observed, good mood undeterred. “Dude would cut out his own heart and blend it to make red cake batter before admitting to it, but deep down, he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear who wuvs hugs. Speaking of which – you see that giant pink moose Eileen sent you? Friggin’ adorable.”

Dean proceeded to cut a huge slice for himself, leaving a worried looking Sam staring down at the blood-red cake. Then the hunter stepped around a disconcerted Castiel, patting the angel on the shoulder, and strolled out of the kitchen.

***

Happy birthday, Petra! I’m sure you’re tired of your birthday comingling with Valentine’s Day, but when you said your cake preference was red velvet cake, what was I to do? ;)

If you’re wondering exactly why – or even how – Crowley became a member of the in-world spn fandom, you can find out here. This fic will be posted on AO3 in my Tumblr Ficlets after posting on Tumblr.

Image sources here: X

[concussed-to-pieces]

Devotion

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Drew McIntyre/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Heard through the grapevine that my boy Drew might have done the Lord’s work recently. In honor of that momentous occasion, I dusted off what was originally meant to be part of @hardcorewwetrash ’s Summer Writing Challenge (because, you see, I am a terrible person and never managed to get my act together for that, I KNOW YOU’RE SHOCKED). So now for Valentine’s Day you get old gods, boardroom meetings, wilderness excursions and past life reminiscing. Basically, my brand. 

Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For mild ’breeding kink’, graphic violence and death. Stay safe!]

[!WARNING!: Rife with historical inaccuracies. This also may be considered religiously offensive, for which I apologize and advise you to proceed with caution.]

.........

The devotion was what caught his attention in the beginning.

Truly, the fact that he had solidified on 'he' in the first place spoke volumes. Take one of the faithful. Always prodding at him, making him toss his head in dismissive annoyance. Take one of the faithful. 

The incense was lit in the chapel for yet another vigil, another plea. He tasted iron when he appeared, the atmosphere thick and stifling with the whine of the fair-weather faithful hoping for their fortunes to improve. Godhood was barely above a burden and the Higher in the pantheon well knew his grievances. 

He was Actaeon, ruler of forests and wilderness, his domain stretching from proud mountain peaks to secret moors that man had yet to tread. It fell on him often to mediate in this modern age, where the incense was few and far and boardroom meetings broke untold hours. Greedy men overreached again and again, hand over fist in a mad dash to their own demise.

He had settled on the name Drew McIntyre, and through it all Drew sat. Certainly, he had traded the gilded pauldrons and breastplate for a razor sharp suit, but his story was lauded as a cautionary tale and little about him looked tamed despite that. His piercing blue eyes still glowed when his irritation reached a boiling point, his mouth set in a grim line that was about as hospitable as a kodiak's roar.

I will give you nothing, said those cold eyes, and it will be far more than you deserve. 

Hunter, the man who had once been known as Hades, was at the head of most conference tables. Always clad in some kind of glamour that hid his true form, flanked by his loyal Persephone Stephanie and Cerberus split into three bodies. 

Back and forth they went, Actaeon halting progress and Hades or Zeus or Dionysus or whoever demanding more from him. More land, more resources, more more more. Drew took sadistic pleasure in entangling the god-moguls and their flunkies in red tape, dangling fertile rainforests in front of their noses only to snatch them away due to easily-overlooked technicalities.

After the Fyre festival fiasco at least Dionysus (calling himself Dolph these past few centuries, who knew what the next would hold) was humbled, twiddling his thumbs and staying relatively quiet during meetings. Drew got the feeling that it boded ill though, since it meant that the reveler was actually listening. Possibly. Cerberus, or rather, the three men that Cerberus had become, always confiscated all cell phones before their meetings commenced, so Dolph (and anyone else for that matter) had no distractions.

Whenever Zeus was involved, the shouting matches kicked off quickly. At Hunter's behest he grudgingly went by the name Vince, though even after all the years he still sometimes failed to respond to it. He was not nearly as powerful as he once was, of course, no one believed like they used to, and he clung to the old ways while Hunter struggled to reason with him. All the eldest god wanted to do since he and Hera had become estranged was lift weights and watch professional wrestling; it was a miracle that he even made appearances anymore. 

…

The ruler of Hell always put Drew up at the same damn hotel chain every time he managed to drag the belligerent patron into their meetings. Hunter didn't lack devotion. His contract with old man Vince involved such incredibly far-flung stipulations that for all intents and purposes, every exchange of goods in human hands netted him some percentage of adoration. Hades operated by the philosophy that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely, but slightly less than absolute couldn't hurt, could it?' 

The chain of hotels was one of those oxymoronic minimalist-yet-decadent types, decorated sparsely with furniture that boasted too many sharp edges. Drew always felt uncomfortable and he was certain that was the intention. Hades was all about subtle threats. 

You're on my turf, wild god. Better remember that.

Drew was on a first-name basis with most of the concierge staff in every location he frequented, accepting his room key with a roll of his eyes and some tired comment about how he was back in town for business. 

Running into an animal not in the lobby was...unprecedented. 

He stared down at the cat. The cat stared back up at him, licking her chops while she lounged in the middle of the hallway. Her muzzle was speckled with the remains of whatever she had eaten last and Drew immediately extended a hand for inspection. 

He wasn't as well-respected amongst the more domestic animals and the cat took her sweet time meandering towards his fingers. Once she reached them though, she was all purrs and apologies. Lost, she hummed, her whiskers tickling his arm. Help me?

"Where's your keeper, little miss?" Drew asked in a gentle voice that most humans hadn't had the privilege of hearing. 

The cat offered him a look that was a shrug, shaking her body to jangle the tag on her harness pointedly. 

Drew chuckled, picking her up and cradling her in the crook of one arm. "We will do our best then, won't we?"

…

They didn't wait in the lobby for very long. Fifteen minutes maybe, Drew sprawled indolently in a chair that wasn't quite large enough for him. The cat purred away in his lap, happily kneading and getting white needle-like hairs all over his expensive suit pants. Not that Drew cared, he'd sooner rip the whole damn suit off and saunter back to the wilds where he belonged. 

Patience, Actaeon, he reminded himself with a heavy sigh. A few more days in this brimstone nightmare.

One of Aphrodite's own appeared before him looking attractively distraught and his breath hitched, sending the large man into an embarrassing coughing fit. The woman gestured at the cat in his lap and Drew hurried to stand, floundering with the slumbering feline. "Ah, I had no idea that-" He began, somewhat confused that she didn't seem to recognize him.

"Thank you so much for finding her!" The woman said fervently, grasping his hand.

Drew received no supernatural warmth from her touch, just mortal worship so heartfelt it hit him square in the chest. She wasn't one of Aphrodite's? How could someone so beautiful simply...exist? Surely, there must be some mistake. What was this feeling of deja vu that threatened to overwhelm him?

"She was no trouble." Drew assured, "Came right up to me when I got out of the elevator. I'm Drew, by the way. Drew McIntyre." He raised an eyebrow pointedly. 

No realization of his true identity seemed to be forthcoming, the vision in front of him introducing herself in turn as Lyssa. The name alone sent another jolt through him, much to his chagrin. Her smile was like the sun and Drew wondered if she was possibly one of Apollo's creations. Apollo had no real touch for beauty, though. Hephaestus? 

"Can I get you a drink or something? I'm only in town for a conference, so I'm a little booked as far as breakfast would go." She sounded self-conscious, fidgeting with the cat's fur instead of making eye contact. 

"How about dinner?" Drew asked, startling himself with the ease of his own suggestion. "Maybe tomorrow night, depending on when you fly out of here?"

He needed to talk to Aphrodite. Immediately. 

…

Alicia took one look at him and tried to shut the door in his face. Drew barely caught the edge with his hand, giving her a smile that bordered on a sneer. "You've improved your craft, love." His tone was half impressed, half dangerous. "Setting one of your beauties on me? One who doesn't even know who I am?"

"You've got some real nerve coming here at this hour." Aphrodite muttered, the flawless woman clutching at her silk bathrobe. 

"It is noon, woman."

"Never mind that, what the hell are you talking about?"

Drew shoved his phone in her face, startled when she immediately looked (of all things) jealous. "I'm talking about this one. She's got a cat. And she's been crafted by you."

"She's not one of mine. Hera above, I wish I could take credit for that." The goddess replied crossly. "As far as I can tell she's the real deal." Drew was speechless and Alicia seemed to realize, a smirk turning her mouth up at the edges. "You're infatuated, aren't you?"

"No." Drew said firmly. 

"Mm, you're really going to lie to me about matters of the heart?" Aphrodite crooned. "It's been millennia since your little incident with Artemis. Still sensitive? I would have thought you'd forget."

"I was torn apart by my own dogs. Sensitive doesn't begin to cover it." Drew fidgeted with his phone, closing out the Instagram page. "I dinnae what to do." He admitted.

"Take her out, knock her up, tell her the truth or don't, and welcome another litter of demigods into the human world." Alicia said in a deadpan tone. "You really are so boring sometimes. It's no wonder you're the one who always gets your memory stripped, you're practically mortal levels of boring."

"I…" Drew hesitated.

Aphrodite softened, her sharp contours glowing ever so slightly in the dim hallway lighting. "You deserve adoration just like the rest of us, Actaeon. I know you've basically appointed yourself as nature's protector and as such have decided to distance yourself from humanity's praise, but humans need gods like you. Ones who don't play games with them." She said gently.

"If I do this, she...Aphrodite, mortals are so…"

"I know, they are short-lived. It's better to take your happiness where you can find it though. Don't live a lie, Drew." Alicia tapped her fingers to her lips and then pressed the kiss to his cheek. "For luck and nothing more. I know you wouldn't want my help anyways." Her laughter was a merry sound, bright even in its falsehood. 

…

It's better to take your happiness where you can find it.

The goddess of love's words haunted Drew while he prepared for this little...appointment  with Lyssa. 

Don't live a lie.

Was that what he was doing by shutting everything out? The whole debacle with Artemis, while indeed millennia past, still turned his stomach. His own fine hunting dogs tearing him apart would never leave his long memory, regardless of how many times Zeus humbled him and cast him to Earth with no recollection of who he was. Was he hiding? Was he really so afraid that something like that would happen again? He had traded his mutts in with his pauldrons, but he still occasionally felt echoes of their presence. As though he could turn around at any second and see them all eagerly awaiting his orders.

Drew huffed at himself, squaring his shoulders while he retied his tie and struggled with his top button. He wondered vaguely whether it would still be so difficult if he had picked a more feminine-presenting form as opposed to masculine, though he liked the form he had settled upon. Perhaps a bit too much. The broadness of his shoulders could be a little...difficult to fit into the dress shirts he was made to wear, so the battle of buttons was a familiar one. But that same broadness emphasized his physique and catered to his not-insubstantial pride. He had lasted this long, and what was the point of even having a form if you weren't content with how it appeared?

His reflection studied him from the mirror, blue eyes clouded with rumination on his past. His neck strained at the highest button with every swallow and so finally Drew sighed and left the offending button undone, carefully slipping his tie out of his collar after a moment of thought. Better to seem casual than tightly-laced. 

…

"So, to business, if this is something you want to pursue." Lyssa folded her hands. "I'm not looking for anything serious at the moment. If you're married or romantically involved, I'm not interested. I can't afford to be pulled into a pissing match, not with my career at stake.  That clear enough?"

"Crystal." Drew chuckled, appreciating her plain speech. "Games like that don't yield fruitful results. I'd rather be trusted." 

"Well my cat trusted you, so that's a step in the right direction." She smiled at him and Drew nearly choked on his drink. "You already have my number and I have yours from the cat debacle. What's your schedule look like?"

"I am free this evening, if you have the time. When does your flight leave tomorrow?"

"It's an eleven o'clock. I'm already packed, so I guess tonight will work fine." Lyssa sounded for all the world like she was planning a meeting. 

"Come with me?" Drew requested, rising from the table and offering his arm. She took it without hesitation or shyness, strolling to the elevator with him. "I understand the anonymity of this setup may be what you find most appealing. Rest assured, you will hear no questions from me unless you wish them asked." Drew deliberately kept his tone light. 

"I appreciate that." 

His own rising apprehension aside, Drew did his best to relax. It would do him no good to display the tension he felt. It was better to keep this as businesslike as possible, for his own comfort as well as hers. If they continued on in this manner, maybe he would learn why he felt like she was so damned familiar.

...

It was always attached somehow. He had never really noticed it before Lyssa, but now it gnawed at him. He wondered whether this hunger was why Aphrodite had been so glib about him spawning a litter. Did she know? Did she put the fire there to begin with? 

He knew he was being irrational. Aphrodite couldn't come close to his control, time beyond time having passed since the carefree days of his youth. Actaeon had failed, but Drew McIntyre would not. This arrangement didn't have to sour with reproductive ruminations. It didn't have to, but…

There was no harm in fantasizing about it. The desire to take Lyssa's unwitting worship and make it something...real.

She had, of course, been very up front with him. She was on medication, he would use protection, it was all standard procedure as they were both responsible adults. There was a relatively low risk involved and honestly Drew wasn't particularly keen on raising a brood in the first place, just being involved in the creative process. The notion excited him much more than it should have: the idea of coupling with her, breeding even, until she was overflowing. Being a god, it was far from an impossible task. Drew wasn't ashamed to admit he could behave more like an animal than a man, this fallible flesh doing him in time and again. At least she could keep up with him when it came to sexual appetite.

She would text him occasionally even if they hadn't planned on meeting up. Hell, even if they weren't in the same state. Just little snippets or questions about his day, maybe a picture of her cat.  Drew found himself slipping into the habit of checking his phone regularly, coming to learn that she frequently went hiking when she wasn't involved in business. She claimed to love the woods more than anyone and the God of the Forests had to suppress a roaring laugh at her declaration.

Not even Zeus himself could have rid Drew of his grin when Lyssa casually mentioned that she wouldn't mind some company on her next camping trip. He had been having a terrible day, but that message lifted his spirits instantaneously. He pondered at that for a split second, somewhat confused. Since when had he become so attached?

"Is that a smile?" Dionysus queried from across the boardroom, his eyes wide over the Greek salad he had ordered for the lunch break. "It is! What happened to brighten you up, Doomsday?" Dolph practically bounced around the table to plant himself in the currently-unoccupied seat beside Drew, batting his eyelashes at the large man. "Aw c'mon, you were so chipper a second ago!" The blond whined.

"I have a migrating headache." Drew said dryly. "It comes and goes. Seems t' increase whenever you're around." 

The reveler's response was an ear-to-ear grin and he leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand. "Do tell." He purred. Roman (the largest portion of Cerberus) looked up curiously, as if he sensed the shift in the atmosphere of the room.

"No." Drew snapped, already inches from wringing Dionysus' neck. "Whatever I'm pleased about has nothing to do with ye an' yours. Dinnae try my patience." 

"Psh, ever since Artemis you've been so-" Dolph didn't even get to finish his sentence before Drew was towering over him. 

"Actaeon." Hades' glare was smouldering at the edges. "Not in the conference room. You know the rules."

"Easy now, boys." Vince chimed in, clapping his son in law on the shoulder. "We don't want anything getting out of hand, do we?" Outside, the clear sky rumbled threateningly. 

Hunter sighed in annoyance. "Old man, you know you can't do that shit anymore. It upsets their meteorologists."

"I am Zeus! Why the hell should I give a crap about their silly weather men?"

"Enough. And you, Actaeon-"

"Dionysus never takes me up on my offers." Drew's teeth were bared in an infuriated grin. To his right, Alicia clicked her tongue as if to voice her disapproval.

"Whoa, whoa! I'm more of a lover anyhow, you know that!" Dolph looked wildly uncomfortable, like he had just realized that maybe pissing off a person who stood head and shoulders above him was a bad idea. 

Actaeon exhaled hard, forcing himself to take a step back from the situation. "Later." He said finally, entertained by how Dolph's face paled beneath his fake tan. 

…

"I needed this more than words can express." Drew breathed, his hands carding through her hair in an oddly affectionate way. Well, oddly affectionate when he considered the position they were in. Lyssa's nose pressed to his pelvis, throat flexing around his cock, every swallow making Drew grunt or snarl. "You are too good at this." 

He knew he had to keep his voice down. They might have parked the rental a good distance away from other vehicles, but it would do them no good if a passerby noticed her face in his lap. Drew half-groaned at the idea of being interrupted, feeling her tongue bathing the base of his cock as best as she could. 

"I'm close Lys, can I…" He trailed off, gritting his teeth when she pulled off his cock and started stroking his shaft with her hand. She rested the engorged head of his dick on her tongue, maintaining eye contact as she did. Drew had to remove his hands from her hair, one gripping his thigh and the other clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles ached. "I'm coming, love, I-" He choked his words off as best as he could, trying to stay silent. 

Drew was not a particularly quiet individual, especially during lascivious activities. He liked to think it was part of his charm, the blunt and brazen honesty of his own failable flesh. Lyssa certainly seemed to appreciate it, if the way she squeezed his thigh while she swallowed down his release was any indication. 

He went boneless in the driver's seat, panting a little. She rested her cheek on his thigh, smiling up at him in a manner that was wholly self-satisfied. Drew chuckled, running his fingers through her hair one more time. "How is it possible to enjoy you as much as I do?"

"You're just easy to please." Lyssa teased, giving him a soft bite on the inside of his thigh before beginning to straighten herself out. 

Drew followed suit and then stepped out of the small car, stretching his arms overhead with a drawn out hum. A deep inhale filled his lungs with the fresh forest air and he sighed happily. Nothing better than that smell. 

Her forehead bumped between his shoulder blades and she stayed there for a good minute, her arms around his waist. Drew felt something stir in his body, satisfaction, contentment and he cleared his throat, resting his hands over her own on his stomach. "Thank ye for invitin' me. I promise it'll be worth it." He murmured. 

"Mm, I'll hold you to that." 

After collecting their backpacks from the trunk, the two of them set out down one of the many trails. Not that Drew particularly needed a trail, but he knew that bushwhacking on their first outing into his domain might set her on edge. 

He let her lead the way and they made quiet conversation as they hiked, Drew keeping an ear out all the while for any nearby beasts. She seemed entranced at the way the birds drew close to them, a hummingbird boldly zipping back and forth in front of her nose at one point. 

Drew laughed at the obvious plea for attention, extending a finger to the tiny creature. "Feisty today, aren't we?" He asked softly once it had landed. "You eat well enough with all the feeders around." 

The bird voiced its grievances with hummingbird feeders, much to Acaeteon's amusement. In the meantime his hiking companion shrugged out of her backpack and shuffled closer, her eyes fixated on the complaining bundle of feathers. "How did you do that?" She whispered.

Drew tilted his head. "They come to me." He replied nonchalantly. "This one wants me to grow him more red flowers. I am no miracle worker, little one."

"Oh sure, yeah. He's talking to you. I'll bet." Lyssa gave him a smirk. 

"How else do you think I got your cat back to you so simply?" Drew asked, raising an eyebrow. "She is a headstrong beast."

"Well so am I, but here we are."

"True enough." Drew shooed the bird off and sidled up to embrace her from behind. A teasing finger toyed with the fabric of her t-shirt across her chest, making her laugh quietly and tap his hand away. "Not nearly stubborn enough to resist me." Drew continued, his voice low and gravelly while he pressed close and palmed her breasts. 

Lyssa gasped, her eyes darting back and forth as if worried that someone might see them in this predicament. "Drew-" Her indignant hiss of his name tapered off into something a little less stern than she probably would have liked. Her nipples woke under his circling assault, pressing hard against Drew's questing thumbs.

"What's wrong, Lys? You've gone quiet." Drew whispered raggedly, "Did you see something? A beasty, come to devour you whole?" His left hand slunk past the waistband of her hiking shorts, questing blindly downward for what he sought.

"You're not being fair, you got off in the car." Lyssa protested, her voice cracking slightly. "Don't tease me, Drew-"

"I'm no tease Lys, I intend t' deliver on any threats I make." Acaeteon mouthed at her ear and reveled in the way that she went pliant against his body. Her worship was sweeter than all the praise of humanity, her trust in him explicit and heady. "With just my fingers, lovin'? The first of many, we'll say." Drew promised.

"I'd love to see you try."

Drew's strong fingers tweaked one of her nipples at the same time that his other hand found sanctuary in her underwear. "Naughty girl." Lyssa sighed and writhed back into him, blissfully ignoring that they were still very much out in the open. "I love how quickly you change your tune when you want somethin'." Drew chuckled, fingers stroking and then spreading her slick folds open. 

When Acaeteon took on a task he deemed important, he poured himself into it wholeheartedly. Not many things outside of his interactions with Lyssa really warranted that level of commitment. 

"Lys." He breathed while she choked on her breath and shuddered through an orgasm. "You are not making this easy on me."

"I asked you to come with me for a reason, Drew." She panted when she could talk again, whimpering quietly after he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean.

Drew kissed her fiercely, tongue licking into her mouth to give her a taste of herself. "And what reason might that be?" He asked once they had parted again.

Lyssa stared up at him in a daze for a good few seconds before snapping out of it. "What? Oh! Oh God. Um, later. I'll tell you later. Look, we still have a long way to go!" She floundered, struggling to get back into her pack. Drew rolled his eyes but remained silent, choosing instead to help her put herself to rights and buckle her straps.

...

The campsite she had picked was conspicuously secluded, which Drew made a mental note of. Lyssa seemed excessively nervous for someone that Drew had already been intimate with, the young woman getting their tent poles mixed up several times despite her familiarity with said tent. 

"You seem tense, Lys." Drew teased once she had finally gotten everything squared away. "I hope I didn't wind you up too much."

"Drew, I…" Lyssa trailed off, sighing. "I want to ask you for something. And I'm sorry if you think it's weird or...like, if I make you uncomfortable. I promise I would never want to make you uncomfortable."

Drew raised an eyebrow. This sounded more serious than he had anticipated. "Speak your mind, love. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

Lyssa looked so pensive that Drew was legitimately concerned, the smaller woman taking her time to settle into a chair beside the fire pit. They hadn't lit the fire yet as the summer weather was warm even in the evenings, but Drew had made certain to find a small amount of dry firewood for safety's sake. "This is super dumb and if you want we can just forget it." She announced firmly. 

Drew couldn't help but laugh, doing his best to mask the anxiety gnawing at his gut. "I think I'll be the judge of that, love. What's this turrible question of yours?"

"I kind of...I mean I've...look." She exhaled and glared up at him with a strange ferocity. Drew's pulse quickened at the intensity of her eyes. He felt like he was being appraised, but also, strangely, like he had done this all before. "I've got this...thing that I like."

"Ye. Bit difficult t' miss, love." Drew grinned and she buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly until he apologized and promised not to make any more jokes about his thing she liked. 

"This is hard to talk about so please, just let me talk." Lyssa said sternly. "This isn't something I've told anyone else and I've never acted on my...urges...before." 

Urges. Actaeon's mind raced. Mortals had very few urges that they catered to, what on earth could she be talking about?

"I've always had this...kind of...thing for. Um. Someone having multiple orgasms. I-In me." Lyssa had actually closed her eyes to say it, her knuckles white with the grip she had on her trekking pole. "Like sloppy, barebacking I guess? Breeding? I dunno. I've seen some stuff and I feel like I'd want to try it out, but I've never met anyone that I trusted like that u-until you of course and I really didn't want to get gangbanged so like it's really cool that you can do multiples, your stamina is insane-" 

She carried on rambling as what she said rang in his ears. Breeding. Drew was upright before he realized, stalking across their campsite with a certain, single-minded intent. "Lys." He said hoarsely, kneeling in between her legs. She kept her eyes closed, like she could ignore him somehow. Her face was all red and Drew wanted to laugh, to ease her worries and make light of this, but he couldn't find the ability. "I will do whatever you need me to, lovin'." He murmured. "If it's breedin' you want, it's breedin' you'll get."

Lyssa peeked at him. "What, seriously? J-Just like that? You don't think I'm fucked up for wanting something so weird?" Her faith in him was like warm sunlight after winter. 

"I wish ye'd told me sooner, truthfully." Drew admitted, "could have saved a bit of trouble for the both of us." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "How much preparin' do you want?"

"Pre...Preparing?" 

"Ye. Do y' want to eat? It'll be a long night. "

"I-I mean we already ate lunch--" 

"That we did." She was adorably flustered about this whole thing. "What will you say when you want me to stop, love?"

"I'll say...um, I'll say." Lyssa glanced around. "Tent?" She suggested.

"It has to be somethin' you'll remember. If you'll remember that an' use it, absolutely." Lyssa nodded jerkily and Drew exhaled hard, rising to stand once more. "Alright." He muttered, stripping off his shirt. "Up."

"Up?" Lyssa squeaked.

"Ye." Drew lifted her from the chair, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. The large man buried his face in her neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses and chuckling as Lyssa squirmed in his arms. Her little gasps spurred him on and he fought with the drawstring of her shorts, settling for lacing his fingers at the small of her back to support her while she struggled to undo them herself. 

"Drew, you gotta' put me down-" Lyssa began. 

"This is takin' too long." Drew interrupted, itching to rip the shorts clean off. He sulkily dropped into a crouch, letting her stand so she could actually slide the shorts off and save them from the terrible fate he had planned. "Underwear too, come on."

"So impatient! Guess I should be happy I'm not the only weirdo around." Lyssa teased breathlessly, obliging him with the underwear.

"Bra. Unless you want it ripped."

"Don't you dare."

"I will. Get it gone, love."

Lyssa grumbled, "fine, but I'm leaving my shirt on. Last thing I need is someone coming across us totally naked."

Drew was relatively certain that he was sliding into an Old God headspace, his mind running wild with the idea of reveling naked in public like Dionysus. In the meantime, Lyssa put her hands on a nearby tree trunk and just looked back at him as if to ask what he was waiting for. Drew growled a little louder than he meant to, the telltale sheen of slick on her inner thighs more than enough to stir his blood. 

"I will fill you until I'm empty." The wild god assured softly, fingers dragging through her hair. "Until I am entirely spent. Over and over until your hunger is satisfied."

"You sure do make a lot of nice promises." She replied faintly, arching her back. 

"I'm going to breed you, love." He warned. 

"I certainly hope so?"

"Excellen'." Drew unzipped his jeans and freed his cock, loving the way she shivered. "To business. You remember what ye say if y' need me to stop?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, tent." Lyssa nodded.

"Very good." Drew slid his cock along her entrance, the heat of her taking his breath away. She was already soaked, ready for him, and he permitted himself a momentary loss of self control. Drew kicked her legs a little further apart, roughly shoved his hands up underneath her shirt to cup her breasts, and then sheathed himself in one steady motion.

Lyssa panted out his name as he started to move, the wild god feeling her worship wash over him. It had never been like this before. There was always the catch, the desire to be granted something in exchange for their meager adoration. But here, now, in the sanctuary of the wilderness, Lyssa gave freely of herself to him out of sheer faith that he would be able to fulfill her.

It was intoxicating, heady and rich like his first breath of mountain air atop Sgùrr Alasdair. Drew inhaled sharply and proceeded with his task. He had promised to breed her, and so he would. 

"Lys," he murmured as he sank onto his haunches and took her with him, settling her into his lap more firmly. "I will need you as close to me as possible, love. Don't want to waste a drop."

Lyssa barely managed another nod as his hand wrapped around her throat to hold her steady, her own hands grasping hungrily at his still-clothed thighs. Drew rocked his hips up against her, jolting her entire body with every thrust. His other hand yanked her shirt up over her breasts, baring her to the world. He was enjoying this, he realized dimly, this salacious act stoking something long dead in him back to life. 

His first orgasm struck at the same moment as hers, Actaeon grinning fiercely at the way she arched and crooned to him. But he ached for more. She had asked to be bred and Drew would oblige.

"I want you to grind against me until I paint your insides again." Drew snarled, his shoulders taut. "We will sire demigods, lovely and terrible as the sun."

"You say such nice things it's not even fair-" Lyssa protested, making him laugh breathlessly. His release trickled down his shaft, further slicking her needy body. Lyssa's moaning rang in his ears and Drew bit down softly on her shoulder, laving the spot with his tongue afterwards. 

He would give her exactly what she had asked for. Until he was spent. Until he gave out. In the face of such freely-given worship, what else could he offer?

...

The dream bled in slowly, firelight the first thing she noticed...

"Lady Lyssa?" The voice of Sir Drew roused Lyssa from her musings and she looked up from the fire. The large knight was studying her, his curiosity bordering on impertinence. "Pardon me, Lady Lyssa, but yer hem is smoking."

Lyssa squeaked and frantically floundered back a pace from the small fire. Digging her fingers into the dirt beside her, she smudged out the lazily-smoldering lace on her skirt's hemline. "Thank you, Sir Drew." She sighed sadly, holding the now-ruined lace up to the light of the fire. "Just one more thing I've lost, I suppose."

Drew bowed. "I am n' longer a knight in your father's employ, m'lady. I have nae such title." His rich brogue washed over her, giving her the peculiar feeling of being warmed from the inside out. 

"You're leagues more of a knight than that scum my father was willing to sell me off to." Lyssa huffed in aggravation, hugging herself for warmth. "You're still Sir Drew to me."

"Your kindness is, as always, a beacon of light in dark times." 

"I'm not being kind, I'm being honest." She muttered. 

Drew fidgeted with the penannular brooch on his shoulder, sliding the ring to loose the needle and unwrap the thick folds of his tartan. In a few moments, the heavy woolen garment was draped over Lyssa like a shawl. "There's no need for you to be close 'noigh to the fire that y' hem is burnin'." He said gruffly, now clad more plainly in his armor alone. "I can't have you catchin' your death."

Lyssa buried her nose in the tartan, the durable fabric worn soft in patches from years of use. "Thank you, Sir Drew."

"I am sworn to keep y' safe to the best of my ability, Lady Lyssa." He puttered around the fire, snapping a few branches over his knee to feed the small blaze. "The chill from the moors can get into a man's bones. God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roamin' these lands at night." Drew mused quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Lyssa pursed her lips and clutched the tartan a little tighter. 

Drew seemed to notice her discomfort, turning to offer her a quick grin. "Afeared of the dark, m'lady?" 

"Not of the dark, but what's in it. And you saying unsettling things like that is hardly helping." 

"You've naught to worry about while I'm here, Lady Lyssa. I'm much more fearsome than whatever ye could think up." The knight assured her, his eyes unnaturally blue even in the golden light of the fire. 

Far off, a wild creature howled. Lyssa tried not to jump, she really did, but there was no hiding her flinch.

"It's just a wolf, Lady Lyssa. They'll stay away from the fire." Drew soothed, one large gauntlet hovering above her shoulder. She found herself wishing that just once, the knight would drop his polished veneer and hold her.

"I'm sorry, Sir Drew. It has been...these are trying times. I don't mean to be so fragile." Lyssa mumbled, shame catching her words in her throat.

"It is nae easy feat t' leave hearth and home behind. There is no need t' apologize." Drew assured her. "I only hope we can get y' safely t' the coast."

"I have no doubt of that with you at my side, Sir Drew." 

"I must confess, I am a bit concerned about what y' father and betrothed will do to me once yer safely away, m'lady." Drew placed his hand over his heart. "But my own fears are naught in the face of yer peril, and so they will be laid to rest in as timely a manner as I can manage when yer safe." 

"Drew, do not say such terrible things!" Lyssa protested. "As if you would not be accompanying me!"

"Yer father took me in when I was but a lost stripling wanderin' the moors, Lady Lyssa. He gave me a purpose, a goal. I cannae easily forget that." Drew murmured. "Not even for you."

Dismay gripped Lyssa's throat like an iron claw. "Surely after all these years of faithful service, you've earned a moment of selfishness?" She felt at that moment as if she would have made a deal with the Devil himself to keep her devoted knight by her side.

"Aye, true enough that might be." The blue-eyed man allowed, a rueful smile touching his mouth. "But one often leads to another, as the sayin' goes. I'm loathe t' leave ye all the same."

"Is what I want not part of your plans either, Drew?"

"Lady-"

"It's bad enough to be treated as if I am being unreasonable for not wishing to be auctioned off with the summer home as an attractive virginal decor piece, but to have you spouting such ridiculous platitudes is-!" Lyssa sputtered furiously, her words failing her in her rage. Drew merely sat there in silence while she stomped her feet. "It's outrageous to assume that I could get far on my own. I've barely ventured off the estate since my father acquired his lairdship."

"Are y' sayin' ye would go willingly to that mon, trot yerself off t' market?" Drew challenged, "If I wasnae here, ye'd lay down for some elderly laird to further yer sire's plans?"

"Never." Lyssa barely suppressed a horrified shudder at the notion of sharing her wedding bed with the repulsive man her father had chosen for her. Drew's blunt, honest way of speaking had her all flushed in the face. "I don't know what I would have done. Perhaps I would have died." 

An ugly oath left Drew's lips at her flippant words, the large man muttering an apology for his rough language. "'Fraid I'm showin' my hand a bit, Lady Lyssa. Y' shouldnae say such turrible things." 

"Would you miss me, Sir Drew?" She teased, the laughter leaving her tone when she saw the way he was looking at her. 

"Like the moon misses the moors, Lady Lyssa." Drew had never been one to use flowery terms, so this unexpected foray into almost poetic territory left her a bit breathless. 

Lyssa clutched the tartan, his tartan, even closer. "It is rude to jest so, Sir Drew."

"I am not a jesting mon, Lady Lyssa." Drew's eyes had softened. Normally they were sharp and calculating; the knight took his duties very seriously and it was rare to see him at ease. Not that he was particularly lax at this moment. His sword was still belted to his hip, though he had left his claymore on the ground beside the fire.

"I know. I am grateful for that, Sir Drew." 

He leaned in closer, improperly close, and yet she felt no need to scold him. He often wore his long brown hair braided while he rode to keep it from impeding his vision, but a few enchanting strands had managed to work themselves free during their hurried flight from her father's estate. They gave him an air of dangerous sensuality, the unfamiliar sight of him even slightly unkempt enough to send Lyssa's imagination running wild. 

"I would miss you more than I can articulate." Drew sounded sincere, his voice dipping slightly. "The idea of...the idea of you sufferin' under someone y' do not love and didnae even choose, it is." He paused, obviously searching for the right word. "Intolerable." His burr rolled the word thick, sending an indulgent shiver down Lyssa's spine. "I am naught but a lowly mon who's broken his vows of service t' yer household, Lady Lyssa. But I swear on my life that you shall be free as a bird from this," He gestured vaguely, "nightmare y' been trapped in."

Lyssa rested against his shoulder, the firm press of his armor cool on her burning cheek. "Sir Drew, you are no longer in service to my father. You agree, yes?"

"Aye. Much as it pains me, I've betrayed my master." Drew sighed. 

"And I am fleeing from my title, my lands, everything I once held dear, yes?" Lyssa's grip on the plaid whitened her knuckles. Drew's reply was a slow nod, the knight's brow furrowed in confusion. "I would very much like to do something then. As one soul to another, without the concerns of titles or birthrights getting in the way." Quickly, Lyssa leaned upwards and pressed her lips to his slack mouth. 

Drew started, grabbing her arm to prevent her from retreating after her unwisely bold choice. Lyssa was certain her cheeks were even rosier than before, squirming under the intensity of the look he was giving her. "Y' can flee from yer title an' lands, but I willnae let ye flee from me." Drew murmured finally, cupping her face. "Why would ye torment me so, Lady Lyssa?"

"Just Lyssa, my dear Drew." Lyssa took a deep breath, "I can think of no other way to convince you to stay with me. I have no dowry now, no land, no-" Drew kissed her roughly, the fondness in his expression when he pulled back catching Lyssa even more off guard than the kiss. "Drew, I…" She swallowed hard, nerves twisting her words into a tight little ball. 

"The kiss wasnae t' yer likin'?"

"No! No no, the kiss was perfect. I'm all out of sorts." Lyssa confessed, "I had not realized that you, er, reciprocated my feelings. That should make what I'm about to ask of you a little simpler, but…oh dear, I had not thought out how I would do this."

"I will do my best t' aid ye however y' need, my lovely Lyssa." Drew replied firmly.

"I'm certain you will, and from what I've heard this is not a particularly unpleasant task. F-For someone like you, anyway!" Lyssa felt like she was drowning. "Drew, I would implore you to grant me this one request. I will never ask for another thing as long as I live."

"Speak your mind, Lyssa. Whatever this request is, I'm certain I can fulfill it." 

"I need you to deflower me." Lyssa blurted out in a rush, then buried her burning face in the tartan spread across her lap. "If that...issue is removed, I'll be of no real use to my father and he may let us continue in peace." She soldiered on, her words muffled by the fabric. 

Drew made a sound in his throat that was distinctly foreign. "I...dinnae think I heard ye right. Did you say-"

"Oh, don't make me say it again!" Lyssa begged, thoroughly humiliated. "This is all so embarrassing, Drew, please-" 

The tartan was tugged from her unwilling grasp, Drew's heavy gauntlets somehow deft enough to fold the sturdy fabric. "Many's the night I thought of such things, Lys. 'Tis nae shame in it." He assured her, a teasing smile on his mouth. 

"Maybe not for you." Lyssa retorted. One of the aforementioned heavy gauntlets tucked beneath her chin, tugging her eyes up to meet his own. 

"I am deadly serious, Lyssa."

"Yes, well, so am I." The young woman huffed, feeling thoroughly foolish and exposed without the warm drape of his plaid to shield her. 

"I hate that y' come to me with this request out of necessity. I had hoped…" Drew trailed off, shaking his head. "I suppose it doesnae matter now. I will serve ye in this manner as well, my love."

"Love? Drew, this i-is a matter of...you don't have to--I assure you I don't need to be coddled-"

"Hush, Lys. I want to." He murmured. 

His enthusiasm was evident in the way that he swept her up into his arms and carried her to their humble shelter, in the way that he didn't seem able to stop kissing her. The large man appeared to get himself out of his armor by swearing alone, his mumbled apologies doing wonders for Lyssa's nerves as he fought with the various buckles and latches. 

She couldn't help but get caught up in it all, hungry for the new sensations he graced her with after he abandoned removing his greaves in favor of other activities. Drew was, of course, miles more experienced than her, his rough touch equal parts soothing and maddening.

Lyssa had been warned about the pain by well-meaning housemaids, unable to keep from cringing when Drew finally settled in between her legs. "I...Drew, please just…" She struggled to get the words out, making him pause.

"Shall I stop, Lys?"

"No, no. I have to do it. I just know it will hurt." 

"You could lie to yer father, if ye are truly afeared of this. I willnae do anythin' without y' wishes." Drew assured her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I won't tell a soul about what has already happened."

"We must do it." She insisted, frowning fiercely. Her hands clenched into fists on the sheepskin beneath her. "I am prepared, Sir Drew."

"I would give my damned life to have our first time together be out of newlywed affection, Lys. It wounds me than I cannae give y' any better than this." Drew sounded distraught about the whole thing, and that was enough to get Lyssa's undivided attention. 

"You...want to marry me?" She asked softly.

"Christ woman, I don't know how much more plain I can be." Drew shook his head, smiling sadly. "I would marry ye in a heartbeat. Tis' bittersweet, this act, stealin' away what I would have wanted y' to give to me willingly."

Lyssa sought a kiss which Drew gladly delivered, the young woman whimpering into his mouth. "I will be brave for you, Sir Drew." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I leave myself in your care."

Drew returned her embrace, sliding one hand beneath her body to cradle her against his chest. Lyssa felt him prodding at her entrance and she turned her head away, too scared to watch. He was patient though, gently coaxing her to ease into the motion of it so that when he did finally breach her, it was as if he was coming home. "Gods, Lyssa." He choked, shifting his hips to settle himself. 

Lyssa felt hot all over her body, the pain melting into pleasure that seared her core and left her panting for breath. She was wet enough that her slick ran down her thighs, coating Drew's groin with her arousal. The knight groaned. "Is it alright?" Lyssa asked shyly, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. In reply, Drew exhaled an oath and she felt him tense.

"Perfection, Lys. You are Gods-given perfection." He said hoarsely.

The distant sound of an approaching horse was what roused the two from their post-coital drowse. Lyssa was unsure if she had truly been sleeping, or simply lazing beside the large man. The contentment leaked away, leaving her cold and wishing wistfully for more time. 

She rolled onto her stomach, stretching. Drew kissed her forehead and then draped his tartan around himself, securing it with his brooch at the shoulder. He had never actually removed his greaves; they rattled slightly when he stood. "Stay here, my love." His smile was tight.

The instant he left the tent Lyssa was hurrying to redress herself. A terrible feeling came over her, almost as if she was having a premonition. Fear and despair waged war in her heart while the galloping hoofbeats grew ever closer. 

"Ho there, Drew of McIntyre!" 

Lyssa squeezed her eyes shut in dismay. That voice belonged to the son of the laird she had been promised to. The flaxen-haired man was not an overly intelligent individual, as made abundantly evident by his lonely arrival. 

"Greetings to ye, Dolph." Lyssa was immensely jealous of how calm Drew sounded; why had she not insisted that he gird himself properly in all of his armor? "What brings ye to my humble hamlet?"

"You can drop the act, you shameless Scot." Dolph announced pompously. "The very notion that you thought you could get away with this-"

"I'm afraid I've no idea what yer on about, Dolph." 

"My father's betrothed! The audacity of you, stealing the poor girl away in the night like you're a damned highwayman." Lyssa lifted up the rear of the tent and slunk out, risking a peek around the corner. Dolph had dismounted to thump a finger into the center of Drew's broad chest, the blond looking disheveled and annoyed. "You must return her at once, or I'll-"

"Aye? You'll what." Drew growled. 

Dolph squinted suspiciously up at the taller man. "Drew, I see no reason for you to be so heinously uncooperative. Unless…" The blond trailed off. "Oh. Oh ho, McIntyre! It's to be like that, is it?!" He yelled, his hand flying to the guard of his rapier. "Your crimes will be punished tenfold, baseborn, if you do not produce Lady Lyssa!"

"Ye would attack an unarmed mon, Dolph? I knew ye were a coward, but this is a bit too rich for me." 

"Pick up your blade then, you cur!"

Lyssa inched backwards to the small copse of birch trees where their horses had been secured, her hands shaking nearly too hard to untie her mount. The gentle mare nudged her sleepily, nosing at her dress' pockets for a treat. Lyssa pressed her forehead to the animal's side, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm her frantic heartbeat. It will be fine.

The ringing of steel on steel and a scream of outrage from Dolph shattered her attempt, the young woman wheeling to face the campsite. 

Drew and Dolph were trading blows beside the fire, their swords gleaming in the hellish light. "Drew!" Lyssa cried before she could think better of it, covering her mouth a second too late. 

The larger man glanced towards her, distracted, and Dolph seized the opening. The blade of his sword pierced the unarmored man's chest and stabbed deep. The two men froze, Drew staring at Lyssa and Dolph staring at his sword as though he couldn't believe what he had just done. 

"I…" Dolph began warily, jerking his rapier free and taking a step back. The blade was brilliantly red. Drew collapsed to his knees, dropping his own sword to press the folds of his now-ruined plaid against the mortal wound. Dolph's face hardened and he readied his blade once more.

Lyssa bolted forward at the blond man, not entirely certain what she was about to do. She had no weapons of her own. All she had was her body. "No!" She screamed, flinging herself between Dolph's sword and Drew's hunched form.

The pain was real, tangible, no dream. It stole the very breath from her chest. Yet she clung to Drew even as Dolph's blade slid home between her ribs.

"Lady Lyssa…" Drew whispered, a shaking hand coming up to tenderly cup her face and wipe away her tears. "Dinnae fret, my love. We will meet again." His other hand grasped in the disturbed dirt around the dying campfire, landing on the pommel of his faithful claymore. "I swear it."

He gripped her tightly and with a roar of exertion, he swung the large blade one-handed. All Lyssa could recall was his eyes, fearsome and brilliant in the dark of death that enveloped her. 

God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roaming these lands at night...

…

Lyssa jerked awake, uncertain of her surroundings. For one terrifying moment her dream seemed like reality, the tent overhead the tent that she and her knight had-

"Drew?" She called, fumbling out of her sleeping bag. "Drew?" He wasn't in the tent beside her. Lyssa rushed to pull on her socks and boots, half-frantic now. 

She poked her head out of the tent, squinting in the pastel blue light of dawn. The forest was lively around the tent, birds having their morning chatter. Drew's boots were missing from the shelter, as well as his towel and grooming kit. Perhaps…

Lyssa struggled upright, flushing a little at how difficult it was to just move. Delicious memories warmed her from the inside out, stirring her blood. She felt almost guilty, giddy and still panicky at Drew's absence. 

It turned out she hadn't needed to worry. Drew was perched on a smooth rock beside the river, tiny travel mirror in one hand while he carefully shaved. A small turtle had taken up residence on the rock as well, basking comfortably in the first warm rays of sunlight. 

"...and I said that of course, of course I'm goin' to have an issue with him litterin', it draws the bears in. And do ye know what that fuck said t' me?" Drew paused, like he was waiting for a response. "Nae, he said 'why should I care, I'm here for a day hike and bears only come out at night'. Truly, the mon wanted to die." The large man sighed, another sure stroke of the razor ridding his neck of stubble. "So then-" 

"You two enjoying your conversation?" Lyssa teased, deja vu striking her hard when Drew turned to give her a quick smile. It was as if she had done this all before, but how could that even be possible?

"Ah, I see I'll have to work harder next time. Ye can still walk!" Drew jibed, making her blush hard.

"I had the weirdest dream, then I woke up and you weren't there."

"Oh? Do tell, love. I'm not quite done here anyway."

Lyssa settled onto the riverbank alongside the rock, pulling off her boots and dipping her feet into the chilly water. She didn't speak for several minutes, just listening to the river and the quiet scrape of Drew's razor on his throat. "I dreamed that we were in Scotland."

The razor noise stopped abruptly. 

"Old Scotland, though, not like modern day. You were a knight and I was some sort of nobility. I guess...I think I'd been promised to an older guy? Like an older guy wanted to marry me and you were helping me run away because I didn't want to marry him." Lyssa hugged herself, pointedly staring down at the water in an attempt to avoid the look she was sure Drew was giving her. "It was so real, less like a dream and more like a memory. I could feel it, how scared and uncertain I was, as though I had really gone through that experience."

"You dreamed of Scotland?" Drew's chuckle sounded strange, forced. "Dinnae realize I had that effect on folk."

"I don't think I've ever even seen a picture of Scotland, but somehow I know that's where it was. I'd bet on it, I'm that sure." Lyssa insisted, still staring at the water.

The large man cleared his throat after a minute and moved to splash some water onto his face. Lyssa noticed that he had nicked himself while shaving, the blood blotting his neck. Drew didn't seem particularly concerned about it though, scrubbing roughly at his face to rid himself of any leftover residue. "In your dream, was I still Drew?" The question was posed casually, like he was asking whether she had seen his keys or phone.

Lyssa smiled, feeling oddly wistful. "You were, one hundred percent."

Drew's shoulders relaxed slightly, the planes of his back becoming less pronounced. "Good."

…

McIntyre.

Lyssa's heart sank at the list of pages that came up just by searching that one name. Motto Per Ardua, dominion over Glencoe, Hebrides, a clan that kept to itself for a majority of history...maybe she would have better luck researching their tartan. Something to confirm her suspicions.

However, the very first image had her staring wide-eyed at the screen. There it was, plain as day, a background of forest green and navy shot through with bands of red and white. She remembered the rough and worn patches of it, the way the white bands were more prone to snags than the red. How could she have known that was their plaid?

She reached for her phone, but then paused. Drew had been strangely standoffish since they had returned from their camping trip, still eager to engage sexually but not so much in conversation. If anything, it was almost as if he was sexually frustrated. Lyssa felt weird about the whole scenario, flattered by the attention but unable to forget that incredibly realistic dream…

Speak of the devil, her phone vibrated. 

-I know this is tactless of me, but there's rumors of a spot opening up at HHH. Still looking to jump ship from your current endeavor?

Lyssa laughed aloud, picking up her phone and typing out a reply.

-Gods you're mean. I miss you too.

-im serious Lys.

She raised an eyebrow at the missed capitalization. Normally Drew was fastidious about his texting. 

-I think you'd do well in this position. When can I see you again?

-Why? Is it because you liiiiiiiiike me? Do you miiiiiiiiss me?

-I thought THAT was fucking obvious.

…

"Dolph!" Drew roared, his hands around the reveler's neck before he had finished saying his name.

Dolph squawked, eyes bulging slightly. "What?! What did I do?"

"You killed her, that's what you did!" Drew snarled. "Ye miserable, low-lyin' scum!" His blood was boiling, brogue tar-thick in his mouth. He was certain he must sound like a raving lunatic.

"Drew, please." Alicia said quietly, touching his shoulder. "I didn't explain things so you could fly off the handle-"

"Trust me, love, this ent flyin' off the handle." The large man seethed, "you prick. You prick!" 

"I'm still very confused-" Dionysus managed to say.

"Actaeon, he wouldn't remember either. Both of you had been tossed for some crap you pulled. You were just acting out your mortal roles, it's no one's fault."

"He's about to shuffle me off the mortal coil-!" The blond squeaked, thrashing in Drew's iron grasp. "Aphrodite do something!"

"What the hell are you idiots doing?" Hunter asked incredulously as he emerged from his office. "Can you two stop fucking with each other for five minutes?" 

"I am about to make an opening in this company's ranks. We could use a new social media director." Drew replied curtly, as though he wasn't choking the current social media director to death.

"Not like that, you're not!" Hades snapped. "We have interviews, paperwork. That kind of shit. We play by their rules, Wild God, otherwise we get pantheon gaps and that crap ends well for no one."

"I resign--!" Dolph gasped, waving his hands in the air. 

At those words, Drew slacked his hold slightly. "Swear it on yer soul." He demanded. 

"Yes, absolutely, whatever you want." The blond wheezed. "I'll fill out the forms Hunter, I don't care, just get me the hell away from him!"

Hades sighed, rubbing his temples. "Dare I ask who you have in mind for the position, Actaeon?"

Drew's grin in reply was slow to come, his dimples displayed prominently for a brief moment. "Oh, ne'er ye worry. You'll meet her soon enough."

…

“You've got some explaining to do, McIntyre.” Lyssa said firmly, her hands on her hips. Her cat undermined her authority thoroughly by winding around Drew's ankles, purring loudly. “Why am I having Renaissance faire dreams, accurate ones?” Your family plaid, the moors... She bit her tongue and waited impatiently for his answer.

“Would that I could explain, Lys.” Drew looked pained, “I doubt that ye would even accept the explanation if I gave it.”

“If I'm going to be working at the same company as you-”

“Ah, ye. See, I'm not the only one there with a little...oddness about them, love. I'd warn ye not to pry, but I know that's a damn lost cause.” Drew rested his hands on her shoulders, blue eyes searching her own. “All I ask is that ye are careful. Old...older...er, people work with us.”

“Just like the old gods that wandered the moors at night?” Lyssa challenged. Drew closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in an exasperated gesture. “How long are you planning on lying to me, McIntyre?”

“Christ woman, I'm not lookin' to get ye killed again!” Drew snapped, then swore under his breath. “Look.” He finally said fiercely, “You died in my arms once. You gave me everythin' you had, down to lettin' me thieve yer fuckin' innocence away on a filthy sheepskin. I was supposed to keep you safe. Instead, we bled out together, 'twined in plaid and cinders.” Drew pressed his forehead to hers. “I can't do that again. Please...don't make me.” He begged, his voice cracking.

Lyssa sighed, folding her arms but not pulling away. “Am I going to regret taking this position, Drew?” When he hesitated, she puffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. At least answer this: are you planning on telling me what's going on?”

“Gods, Lys, you have no idea how much I want to.”

She patted his elbow, then pulled away. “Great! I'll make us some tea and start to fill out that transfer paperwork. In the meantime, you can get started with that explanation you owe me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Drew began to protest, catching her hand before she left the living room. “Lys, ye know I cannae-”

Lyssa tapped his nose, barely stifling her laugh at how his eyes crossed momentarily to track her finger. “You can, and more importantly, you will.” She gave him a peck on his slack mouth and then slipped free of his hold to head for the kitchen. “Love you!” She sang.

...

After she left the room, Drew touched his lips, the dark-haired man still a little bewildered at the abrupt turn the day's events had taken. “I...I love ye too, Lys.” He said softly, probably too softly for her to hear.

It was better that way. Less complicated. Yet as she pored over the forms he had brought and attempted to pry scraps of information from him, Drew couldn't help but feel at peace. Brittle, fragile, intoxicating in its novelty, her trust in him stole his breath and her questions kept coming.

He would tell her the truth in its entirety someday. For now, however, he would let her spin whatever wild ideas she wished. It was better that way, after all. Mortals were so short-lived, and it was better to take his happiness where he could find it.

[fic-for-fic-sake]

Stupid Cupid

Pairing: Steve x reader 

Description: Just a short little drabble for Valentine’s day, yes the title is inspired by that song from The Princess Diaries. 

Cupid, or Eros as you knew him, was really a jerk. You’re a demigod, daughter of Apollo, and you had insisted that you were better at archery than the god of love. It was in your blood after all, er- Ichor. Anyway, you boasted your skills and challenged Eros to a friendly competition, but being the spoil sport he is, and gods being gods, he decided not to show up, which was fine by you. 

You were hanging around the Avengers compound about a week after the competition having purged all thoughts of it from your mind. You were reading a book in your room when you felt the telltale sting of an arrow in your forearm. 

“What the hell?” You questioned, looking up from your book only to find a red shimmering arrow protruding from your left arm with a note attached to it. ‘We’ll see who’s the better shot now...have fun.’ Eros. Damnit, you knew it was a love arrow. Unsure of whether or not there would be any wild boars around for you to fall madly in love with you grabbed a scarf from your dresser and tied it over your eyes. You knew most of your fellow Avengers were out of the facility today but you weren’t taking any risks. 

You were okay for the first hour, you listened to your favorite podcast, Lore, and found yourself forgetting you had the blindfold on altogether. The trouble only started when you could feel yourself getting hungry. You internally cursed yourself as you exited your room and felt your way towards the kitchen. You couldn’t hear any noise so you figured you were in the clear. 

Hesitantly, you lifted up your blindfold to make yourself a sandwich, not risking slicing your hand open on an avocado. It would be fine, in and out in ten minutes tops. If someone came in you could just slip on the scarf and no harm would be done. 

Rummaging around in the fridge and humming to yourself you missed the soft footsteps of Steve Rogers as he came into the kitchen from the gym. Instead of making his presence known he just enjoyed watching you by yourself, he thought it was funny how you acted when no one else was around. 

Meanwhile you continued humming as you piled your arms high with ingredients, so much so that you couldn’t see over the plastic tubs of food. Closing the fridge with your foot you placed everything down on the counter and cursed yourself as your precariously placed stack fell. Before you could even think about picking it up your eyes landed on the super soldier in front of you. Shit. Your heart started hammering so hard in your chest you thought it would pop right out and your mouth went dry. You could feel heat rising up to your cheeks and a thousand butterflies flap in your stomach. 

“H-hi Steve.” Your words caught in your mouth, positively tongue tied over him. Had he always been this gorgeous? Beautiful sandy blond hair that sparkled thanks to the natural lighting of the floor to ceiling windows. Sparkling blue eyes that looked just like the Mediterranean during the peak of a summer afternoon. Beautifully sculpted arms that you longed to throw yourself into, he was heaven. 

“Hi yourself.” He teased back, amused by your change in demeanor. “Whatcha makin?” 

“Um, just, just some lunch.” You breathed back, toying with a stray strand of hair, pulling it around and around your finger as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. God, he was really something else wasn’t he? “Do you want some?” You questioned eagerly, desperate to keep him with you. 

“Yeah sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.” He smiled, wondering what had gotten into you. You were never this flirty with him, not that he minded. It was funny to see such a different side of you, you were usually more witty with him, spewing biting retorts like it was your job. 

“Okay.” You giggled as you started preparing his lunch too. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip in 30% concentration but 70% because you thought it looked hot and would impress Steve. When you were done you walked around the island to his side of the counter and put his plate in front of him. As you passed behind him to take the seat next to him you trailed your index finger along his shoulder blades in what you hoped was a suggestive gesture. “Hope you enjoy.” 

Steve almost choked on his lunch he couldn’t believe how forward you were being. He could feel his face turn as red as his shield. He reached out and placed his palm on your forehead, checking your temperature. “Are you feeling okay?” 

You leaned into his palm, loving the feel of his skin on yours. “Mhm, just fine Stevie.” You assured him with big puppy dog eyes. He tried to pull his hand away from you but you protested and grabbed for his hand, lacing his fingers with your own. Much better. Suddenly you didn’t care about your lunch, you just cared about Steve, only Steve. You paid no mind to your growling stomach or full plate, you just moved your chair closer to his and rested your head on his broad shoulder as you kept your hand entwined with his. 

“You’re not gonna eat anything? I thought you were hungry.” Steve commented, looking down at you resting on his shoulder, feeling equal parts of adoration and confusion. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’, “I just wanna be with you, as long as you’ll let me.” You said dreamily. You took your other hand and dragged it up and down Steve’s arm, appreciating the muscle definition. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the best arms?” You questioned, using the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulder and nuzzle your head into his side. 

“N-no.” He replied, choking slightly on his food. Seriously, what was happening with you? Sure he had flirted with you but he never thought that you got the hint, maybe he had been wrong. 

You spent the rest of the day with Steve acting like a deranged schoolgirl in love. You hardly ate or drank anything unless Steve absolutely insisted. 

“Doll, you haven’t eaten all day, I’m worried.” He would say, nervousness lacing his words. 

“Hm, doll,” you began, rolling your mouth over the ‘o’ and sticking your tongue out to accentuate the ‘l’, “I like it when you call me that. Makes me feel special.” You said, looking at Steve as if he hung the moon and stars, which, he totally did. 

Later that night when he tried to leave you to go sleep in his own room you practically threw a tantrum. 

“Where are you going?” You whined, pulling his arm so that he would stay in your room, with you. 

“Doll, I’m going to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Don’t leave me Stevie, please?” You questioned, wrapping your arms around his thick neck muscles and lacing your hands behind his head, trying to make yourself as irresistible as possible. 

“Are you sure? You wouldn’t feel more comfortable here by yourself?” Steve asked, a slight blush working its way onto his facial features. He didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to. 

“I won’t make a move, scouts honor.” You promised, holding your hand in a mock boy scout gesture, “I just wanna be with you, just hold me.” The way you said it, the sheer innocence in your voice made him weak in the knees. He had wanted to do just that for so long so how could he say no? He followed you into bed and let you adjust so that you were using his chest as a pillow. “G’night Stevie.” You yawned into his shirt. 

“Goodnight sweetheart.” Steve replied, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head and watching as your eyelids fluttered shut and you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

The next morning you woke up from a wonderful sleep, the best sleep you had in awhile. You tried to turn on your other side but there was something slung across your stomach holding you down. The more you woke up the more you felt the presence. It was behind you as well, radiating a comforting warmth. You almost fell back asleep until you felt a gentle breath fan across your head, what the hell? Waking up fully now you realized that there was another person in bed with you. Fuck. 

Yesterday came back to you in a sobering tidal wave of memories. The arrow, seeing Steve, spending all day with Steve, acting like a complete idiot around Steve, asking Steve to spend the night. Shit. Tentatively you tried to move yourself out of the soldiers grasp but he shifted under your touch, pulling you back against his warmth. 

“Don’t go, not yet.” He said, voice rough in the early morning hours. Oh. Even though the love spell had worn off that was still incredibly attractive. 

“Bathroom.” You whispered out to him, hoping he would let you go for that. Luckily, you were right. You quickly darted out from under Steve’s arm and went to the bathroom, gingerly shutting the door behind you. 

You splashed water on your face and were about to go back outside and deal with the man in your bed when something caught your eye. A piece of golden paper pinned to the wall with an arrow through it. 

Hope you enjoyed my arrow, next time you challenge me it’ll be longer than 24 hours. P.S. The arrow doesn’t make something out of nothing, it amplifies feelings that are already there. Have fun with the soldier cuz.

[fanficparker]

Tacenda | Tom x Haz one-shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Tom Holland

Word count: 4.5k words

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff

Summary: Harrison looked at Tom’s face. His sleepy tired pretty evil face. He wanted to grab it and punch it. Or do something completely opposite and then die.

____________________________

(Written in Harrison's POV) 

There are some things that aren't said but are still not supposed to be done, like forgetting about the night out with your best mate after not seeing each other properly for months. I should have put the date on my calendar but Nah! I was fucking over-confident! The director himself asked me that he was flexible with the re-shooting schedule but I, Harrison Osterfield chose this particular day for the re-shoots. Over-confident bastard, I am.

I didn't count how many times I cursed under my breath when I saw the message notifications from Tom timed three hours ago.

6 UNREAD MESSAGES FROM TOM. ~ 3 hours ago

Tom(8:45pm) >>I m here for an hour?

Tom(9:16pm) >>Where r u?

Tom(10:04pm) >>R u still going with the plan?

Tom(10:10pm) >>The food is cold as hell.

Tom(10:10pm) >>Although hell is all lava

Tom(10:12pm) >>But where r u?

How could I forget about the divs night out? We were both busy with our horribly busy shooting/press tour/photoshoot/meeting etc. schedules. But today was the day we had decided to finally spend a best friends night together, eat something good, visit a good bar et cetera et cetera.

But I was over-confident about my memory to remember dates. Haha.

I don't think it's smart to reply to those messages right now. Also, I am too tired and worn-out of thinking about any possible excuse. So, I simply drove to my house where we were supposed to meet.

Hope Tom won't be angry at me.

No.

Tom should be angry at me!

Because when he's not angry with me, he's sad. And definitely sad or upset is the last thing I want him to be, especially me being the reason.

Which friend would like to see his best friend sad, anyway?

I unlocked the door of my house and tip-toed to the living room. I still prayed that Tom would be busy watching YouTube or something and wouldn't realise the time. I am a hopelessly hopeful individual. Well, I didn't coin the word 'Hopelessly hopeful', Tom did. He called me that once, couldn't agree with him more though.

I saw him. But he wasn't watching TV or scrolling through his phone. He was fast asleep on the couch. I let out a breath of relief- At least I don't have to make excuses right now.

I freed myself off my coat and shoes and walked towards the couch where he was lying. My eyes landed on the table to the right. I noticed the take-out boxes stacked on the wood.

Shit.

Tom didn't even eat dinner. I can't even express how disgusted I am feeling about myself. Seriously?! I had grabbed a quick meal during the work hours but Tom... He was waiting to have dinner with me.

No matter how much I hate making excuses to him, I still can't let him sleep with an empty stomach. It's better Tom gets upset at me, I deserve that after all.

I walked closer to his sleeping figure. His legs were tangled in the little blanket and the cushions were lying to the floor. Yeah, Tom had a habit of kicking things in sleep. He had kicked me too.

One of Tom's hand was touching the carpet beneath while the other was tucked under his head. His mouth was slightly open and when I concentrated enough, I could hear his soft snores.

He groaned in his sleep and as a reflex action- I averted my gaze from him to the floor. But I noticed him wetting his lips with his tongue in the process.

His lips were badly dried and chapped. He should take more care of them. It's none of my business actually. If Amelia enjoys kissing them who am I to say?

I shook Tom by his shoulder.

"Mmm," He whimpered in his sleep, resisting my attempt to wake him up.

"Get up Tom!" I said calmly and tickled the spot where his jaw met his neck. His body shook in a silent giggle. That spot was his weakness, after all.

"Harrison?" He yawned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Yup. That's me. You haven't eaten," I replied when he tried to sit up.

When he sat up straight his curls fell on his forehead, exactly like a bungee jumping rope.

His curls were the weirdest dilemma of my life. I loved them, he looked great in them. But I also wanted to move my hand through them and get them out of his face.

I clenched my fist at the thought of playing with his hairs.

My whole body shuddered when he touched my chin out of nowhere.

"Did you fall?" He said as his fingers grazed through the little cut on my chin. He was sitting on folded knees on the sofa to reach my standing height.

Does he think the pain of him touching my wound made me shudder?

"Yeah, I fell," I said. I hoped he'll remove his hand from my face but rather he moved his thumb across my jawline. I clenched my fists tighter, my jaws clenched too.

He should stop doing this. He should stop touching me like this. It didn't feel... Who am I kidding? He should stop touching me like this because it felt good. Felt so damn fucking good!!!

Remove your fingers, Holland or I'll break your hand.

I looked at his face. His sleepy tired pretty evil face. And again I wanted to grab it and punch it. Or do something completely opposite and then die.

His eyes were concentrated on my skin while his fingers were still busy grazing my skin. When the torture was out of limit, I flipped his hand off me and took a step back.

"It's not a big deal. It's a very small cut. You don't have to give it so much attention."

I don't know but I suspect my voice was a bit harsh because his face fell at my words. I heard him sigh.

"Sorry."

The word came out of my mouth abruptly. Tom's face shoots up at my sudden apology.

"Uh. For what?" He tilted his head to look directly at me. Before his eyes could meet mine, I looked away. My reflexes are pretty damn good. They know he's dangerous.

"For spoiling our night out. For wasting your time." I stated as a matter of fact and stuffed my hands inside my pockets while swinging along with the balls of my feet.

"No worries. I am free tomorrow." Tom said.

"BUT I AM NOT FREE!"

I-- I yelled at him.

He froze at his spot. I closed my eyes momentarily in a hope that everything was a dream.

The yelling part was not for him. It was for me. I hated myself for missing this day! I wanted to spend time with him! And I don't know when I'll get it next. When he's free, I am busy. When he's busy, I am free. And then there are times when we both were busy and I just missed the day when we both were free. I wanted to throw my hands in the air. But what will it change?

I instead flopped to the sofa right next to him and hide my face in my hands.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's my fault in every direction." I said rubbing my palms on my face.

"I can see you are very tired Harrison. I really don't mind. I also went through this phase and you were there for me so... Look I am right here." Tom snaked his arms around my shoulders taping slightly.

I nodded. Not the best response but now I don't have to worry because he thinks he understands my agony.

I convinced him to have dinner. I didn't tell him that I did eat something before and joined him regardlessly. And we talked, like friends. Like we always do. Nothing had changed from the outside.

* * *

I am unlucky enough to get a chance to see him on Harry and Sam's birthday. The twins couldn't find any other day to pop out on earth than the fucking Valentine's Day. I will see the same girls throwing themselves at me who never gave a fuck to me when I was fifteen. And then those questions. I was ready to face all those 'when are you going to show us your girlfriend?' or 'we know you aren't single.' or some more annoying cliché questions or blatant statements or the worst— straight off insults. I knew bullshit when I heard it and I knew how to deal with it.

But still, I don't understand this whole fuss about getting into a relationship. I don't like casual dating. I never tell people not to go on casual dates or to commit to a serious thoughtful relationship or to wait till they actually find an appropriate partner. So why are they telling me what and when I should do these things?

It's not like I am fifty or sitting on a wheelchair or the world is ending. I am not even twenty-five. I have time. I know how to use it more efficiently than getting into a stupid relationship that won't even last for a couple of months.

Nevertheless, the thing I wasn't ready to deal with was to see Tom, of course as I already established. He'll produce himself at the party any time soon with his hands draped around her shoulders. I forgot her name honestly. And I don't care about it.

Speaking of the devil, Thomas Stanley Holland walked right across the door and the first thing he did was wave at me. Like a child waving at an ice-cream truck. There was no Camelia--Amelia (I don't know) with him. He hopped across the hall and reached me. I just saw him doing things rather than giving any response.

"They saved the cake for me, right?" He said suppressing a laugh. Failing miserably though.

"Nah! I had your piece." I wobbled my eyebrows at him teasingly, lifting the mocktail to my lips. But he grabbed my drink and took a sip himself.

"It's not wine..." He said making a face of disgust. I snatched my drink back from his hand and took a huge sip. I basically gulped the liquid and tossed the glass to the side.

"I am trying to lower my alcohol consumption. You should too. And that drink was delicious!" I said wiping the wetness off my lips with the back of my hand.

"I try to but couldn't resist." He admitted. I could see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"It's difficult, I agree. I loved beer and considered it more important for my survival than water but then---"

Sam jumped in the conversation and I stopped mid-sentence.

"There are two players less in the beer pong. Maybe you guys could join. It's fun." Sam suggested and it seemed like the birthday boy wasn't in the mood of hearing a no. I can tell that he was already tipsy.

But... Beer pong, seriously?

Irony. My whole life is an irony.

"Uh. We are trying to keep a distance from alcohol."

That was Tom. My head flipped to look at him from Sam. His eyes met mine and I didn't turn my head away. He gave me a small smile. My mouth parted to say something but Sam spoke instead.

"If you divs change your mind, you are most welcome to join us." And then he walked past us. I watched his figure as he left while I all this time I could feel Tom's lingering gaze on my face.

"What? Why are you staring?" I asked looking at him, again.

He shifted his gaze to his shoes but the smile on his face was even bigger. It was almost as if he was blushing.

He didn't answer. So I asked another question, "Where's your girlfriend?"

He let out a chuckle and his head lifted.

"I broke up!" He said but with a smile as his shoes traced an invisible circle on the floor.

I am actually worried about him now. Has he gone mad in the sorrow of his break-up? Although I think they didn't even have any feelings for each other but were just together. Casual dating. But Tom never accepts the casual nature of his relationships till they are over.

But he also never giggles after a break-up.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Very okay." His smile was still big enough to make his eyes crinkle.

I rolled my head back to stretch my tired body. I realised how long I was standing here. I rested my hands on the empty counter, shutting my eyes to relax. I could feel the little vibrations that Tom's tapping fingers produced on the counter. I felt his hand coming closer to mine. And then his fingers touched my hand. And I jerked it away opening my eyes and looking at him.

He retracted his hand seeing my reaction and looked at his shoes again.

He wants to tell me something. I know him well. But what I also know is that he never hides stuff from me or gets nervous about telling me anything. We are best friends after all. But now? Why is he behaving like this?

My heart crumbled thinking of a thousand possibilities. Was our connection weakening? Was his trust on me shattering?

But why? What have I done wrong?

"You should go and join them. You love to play beer pong. No matter how much you suck in that," I suggested, hoping that his mood will change after some fun games and drinks.

"Can we talk in my room?" He asked completely ignoring my suggestion.

"I--uh. Sure." I shrugged looking at him. His expressions were difficult to read in these dim lights, maybe I could see him better in the proper lighting of his room.

He walked past the halls, greeting some people in the path while I followed him quietly. He closed the door of the room after we entered.

I sat on the corner of his bed waiting for him to join. And he joined and sat beside me keeping some distance.

"So... What were you saying?" I asked facing him.

"Nothing. Just... " He paused and didn't complete his sentence, instead took in a long breath and released it shortly.

"What? Is everything okay?" I was genuinely worried.

"Can I hold you, Haz?"

He wants to hug me and I want to laugh. Does he need permission to hug me, now? Maybe then he'll tell me that it was our last hug and that we are no more friends. It happens like this, isn't it?

Goodbye Harrison.

He'll definitely say that. I can sense.

I gulped my saliva and slid closer to him. I loosened my arms.

He didn't take long and wrapped his hands around my body. Tom had hugged me before, a lot of times (although not so often in the last three-four years) but never like this. Like the world was ending and we were drowning in the infinite ocean. His body was stiff at first and then it loosed as he relaxed. I realised that I did exactly the same. As our body relaxed, I tightened the embrace pulling him closer. One of his hand travelled from my back to my neck and he played with the small hairs on the nape of my neck. I felt my body shooting with electricity. I didn't fight with my instincts and surrendered.

I pushed him away.

He stared at me wide-eyed.

Who the fuck hugs like this?

He snapped his fingers in front of my face. And I realised that I was lost in my thoughts. But I don't even know what exactly I was thinking?

"What have I done wrong?" Tom asked me in the saddest voice I have ever heard.

I should be the one asking that question!

"Excuse me?" I said wanting him to elaborate.

"You are pushing me away. You are seriously pushing me away every fucking time!" His voice cracked as he spoke. His eyes were way too glossy. I am afraid if he tilts his head a little bit, tears will spill out of them.

And again my heart clenched painfully.

"Are you--are you crying?" My throat felt like as if it was choked of ashes.

He chuckled. But it was more like an irritating chuckle.

And the thing I was afraid of happened right then. Tears fell off his eyes and slid through his cheeks.

I am finally the reason for making him sad to a level that he's crying!

"Nothing matters anymore, Harrison. Nothing matters." He said, shaking his head and wiping off his tears although fresh tears replaced the old stains. He got up.

Was this his way of saying goodbye? That we are no more friends?

But I can't let him go like this. No. That's not me.

I grabbed his wrist before he could walk away and stood up myself. I felt much taller today. Maybe because his posture was sunken right now.

"When did I push you away?" I whispered the question.

"Every time, Harrison. I have already answered that."

"That's now how this works," I told him.

My voice was slow and soft while his voice was loud and cracked.

He jerked his hand away from my grip.

He jerked his hand from my grip like I do... Every time.

Oh.

"You... You? You ah..." I stumbled upon my words unable to complete my sentence. He spoke up instead.

"Yes. Yes, Harrison. I am in love with you."

No. That was not something I was saying. I wanted to ask him if he thought that I was trying to end our friendship(the way I thought)— You think I am trying to end our friendship.

I don't even know why I stumbled that much in saying this little statement.

But I wasn't expecting that response from him.

I stood there frozen. How'll I react to this?

I could see him moving closer to me and his hands were reaching for my face. His thumb touched my lower lips and he tucked it out of my teeth.

"I got my answer. I hope we'll still be friends." A sad smile adorned his face as he said that. I saw him move away from me this time. He unlocked the door, looked at me for a second then looked away and walked out of the room.

As the door clicked shut. I jolted and let my limp body fall on his bed.

What have I done?

***

He didn't text or call me that week.

I didn't either.

***

The next week I found myself mindlessly scrolling through hashtag #tomholland

I stopped at a particular picture. It was from high school. I don't even know how these fan-accounts get these pictures.

It was a picture of one of our school plays. We are standing there posing for the group photograph. Tom and I were standing in the middle, together.

It was the only play where Tom and I played the role of each other's love interest. We did some sad romance shit, some happy romance shit and kissed. Not a real kiss. It was a stage kiss, where one of the actors puts his or her thumb between their and the other actor's lips and then both the people kiss the thumb instead of each other's lips and the audience thinks that they are actually kissing each other.

And then for a complete one week, Tom called me 'bro' instead of my own fucking name!!

And then about two years ago after one of our acquaintances jokingly called us boyfriends, Tom literally inserted the same 'bro' in every fucking sentence, Instagram comment, DM, reply, text, phone call, everywhere he had to address me for at least three days.

I have always used the word 'bro' as an alternative for 'mate' or 'friend' but never to brother-zone anyone.

But he literally used it to brother-zone me, MULTIPLE TIMES!

And I...

I got the signal.

And now he's telling me that he's in love with me...

Funny.

Irony.

Satire?

***

Hell. Bloody hell.

1 UNREAD MESSAGE FROM TOM. ~ 1 min ago

It's been a month we haven't talked to each other at all and now suddenly I received a text from him. And that too at 01:05 am midnight.

My fingers danced inches away from the screen afraid to tap on the message and then regret it for life.

Another notification popped on my home screen.

Now it was—  2 UNREAD MESSAGES FROM TOM. ~ 1 sec ago

I clicked on it.

Tom(01:05 am) >>Hey

Tom(01:06 am) >>Are we on talking terms?

Me(01:10am) Hi.      << Yeah. <<

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:10am) >>Thank god. I was afraid.

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:10am) >>So whatcha doing?

Me(01:11am) Couldn't sleep. Just scrolling through my feed. <<

Tom(01:11am) >>Same!

Tom is typing...

Tom(01:12am) >>Thinking of meeting sometime? I will understand if u don't wanna meet but still?

Me(01:30am) Can we meet right now? <<

Tom is typing...

Tom is typing...

Tom is typing...

I tossed the phone to the side seeing the text 'Tom is typing' appearing and disappearing multiple times on the screen and closed my eyes. I heard my phone ting. I rolled over to look on the screen again.

Tom(01:41am) >>Will be at your place in 10

Me(01:42am) >>👍(thumbs up emoji)

Fuck!

I hid my face inside my duvet and waited for him.

What will he say? What will I say?

The doorbell rang. Was it already ten minutes?

I slowly removed the duvet off my body, took my time to get off the bed and walked lazily to the door and stood there, staring at the wood. The doorbell rang again.

It's just Tom. I reminded myself.

I sucked in a breath and opened the door. He was standing right there. Obviously.

He was wearing a brown t-shirt with some blue trousers and his hairs were perfectly set, unusual for midnight. I am sure that I looked like a mess.

"Can I get in?" He asked smiling politely.

"Yea-yeah" I stuttered giving him way to get in. He sat on my sofa where last time he was napping.

I didn't notice he had a bag in his hand till he kept it on the front table.

"Mum made some cookies. Thought you loved them." He said taking out a box and opening it. The sweet smell instantly reached my nose and I heard my stomach growl.

We chuckled, together. Then laughed, together. Then awkwardly stopped laughing. Together.

I sat beside him and fished out a cookie from the box.

"The-the choco-chip ones are made by me. I mean I helped mum," He said and I put my previous cookie down to look for the choco-chip ones in the box. The box had at least four different flavours of cookies mixed up.

I took out two choco-chip cookies and gave one to him. I took a bite.

I loved it.

We ate more till we were full, almost half-emptying the box.

Say something Harrison! I mentally scolded myself.

"So?"

"So?"

We said in unison.

"You say first," I said to him. We shifted to face each other.

"Missed you," Tom said pressing his lips into a thin line, while he fidgeted with his fingers.

I placed my hands on top of his hands, stopping his motions.

"Do you really like me that way?" I asked being serious.

"I really love you that way," His voice sounded confident.

"Why now? All of a sudden? Why not before?" I am sure that my voice was panicky.

"You were pushing me away, Harrison. It was hard for me. I tried to move on but... failed."

The world was spinning again.

"You asked if you could switch roles when we were assigned to be in that play as a couple. You denied its re-screening. You missed the practice sessions.

"I tried my best to make you comfortable. Even if it made me kill all my possibilities to be together with you. But I failed miserably. Just tell me no. Just say no. Tell me that you don't see me anything more than a friend and I promise I will move on.

"But you not saying anything and pushing me away isn't making me move on. Say something Haz. Just say no." He finished but his gaze was still fixed on my eyes. He wasn't giving me a chance to break the eye-contact, waiting for my answer.

But the thing matters the most is that he's right. And I am wrong.

I did push him away and then put all the blame of everything on him.

I...

I think I knew...

I know why I didn't believe in relationships because the thought of being with someone other than Tom was sickening. And I was afraid if Tom and I did somehow magically get into a relationship, what will happen after we break-up?

And the day I realised I liked him more than a friend, I started pushing him away. And he thought he was making me uncomfortable whenever he tried to come closer to me.

Wow.

Seems like I solved the theory of relativity.

But what happens now?

Is this the moment we kiss?

But what if it didn't work and we broke up?

His eyes were still on me. And they spoke for him. They answered my question.

He'll never leave me.

If he went through all my bullshit till now, he will still stick with me even if the new thing we are going to step into the next minute doesn't work. We were best friends first and nothing can ever break this bond.

I placed my hand behind his neck. He looked at me through his lashes. I could see the rise and fall in his chest and could hear my own heart thumping in my ears. I tiled his head to the side. I attached my lips to his.

I kissed him. And ruffled his curls.

I kissed him again. And he cupped my face in his hands, squeezing my cheeks and pulling my mouth even closer to his (if it was possible in anyway)..

I kissed him again and again and again and again.

And he kept kissing me back.

And there was no thumb in between.

[industria-adastra]

(The Mortal Instruments) Bit off more than you could chew

A/N: This is a short bit of writing from an AU I thought of one day. To sum it up, the AU is essentially ‘Part eldritch horror Clary’. I do hope I got the vibe down right. Please read and enjoy. (If there are any content/trigger warnings I should add, please message me so I can add them in)

Summary: It’s a sacrifice for the greater good. Always remember to say thank you before eating.

----

Hate.

It burned through her like a cold blizzard, icy threads weaving into her being. The intensity of this emotion was shockingly clear and startlingly new-nearly on par with the waves of relief and joy and Simon’s still my friend he doesn’t hate me I’m not a monster—. 

Simon.

He had been stabbed with the Mortal Sword, drained of blood and dying at her feet the last Clary saw him. Simon could be dead and gone forever because of him. Clary already failed him once and she would fail him again like the horrible, horrible best friend she was (and she would be alone again, with no one to understand her truly, fully).

It was all his fault.

Clary hated Valentine Morgenstern. Hated him with all her being, all of her soul. Glaring at him with a predatory ferocity, biting back the snarl curling at her lips. Invisible tendrils slithered in the light and shadows, slowly inching their way towards the madman with a god complex in front of her. Teeth sharpening, eyes narrowing–Clary would tear into him and rip apart his body until there was nothing left. Murderous killing intent blared out of her tiny body, minutely affecting her “Father”.

Valentine stepped back a little, if unconsciously. Cold sweat broke on his back from her gaze–what a feral little thing she was, none of the grace and sharp elegance a Shadowhunter should have (But what’s to be expected from someone raised as a mundane?). Still, even with the wild animalistic behaviour she was showing (So much like a downworlder), Valentine wasn’t afraid.

After all, Clary was but not even trained to be a Shadowhunter. Like a mortal  compared to an angel, she was no match for him.

Hunger rose up within her. (If she ate him everything would be fine and everyone would be safe and he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore.) For days, she hadn’t eaten anything actually filling–worry and guilt eating away at her, forcing her to make do with scraps and slivers as she fretted over her Mom and Simon. If she ate him right here and now, it would be killing two birds with one stone.

Her nails dig into her hands and draw blood. Her teeth clench together harshly. Something dark coiled tighter inside her. Static started to ring in her ears.

“I hate you,” she whispers into the air. 

“I know,” he says, face blank and posture as arrogant as ever. “And I hate you too, because Jocelyn loved you more than me. She loved you enough to abandon me. If it weren’t for you and your brother, I would’ve still had her.”

Love? Her Mom sounded more like a possession to him. If this was his love, Mom would be better off without it. Blaming children for his own faults and flaws, the world would be better if he ceased to exist now.

“You…really are an idiot.” A mocking smile curved upwards on her face.

She lunged. (Too fast, he couldn’t register what happened next.)

Clary wanted him to suffer, wanted him to die and just never come back to stay dead like he should’ve been.

Darkness and light exploded from her, enveloping the room, seeking for more, to feast on more poor, unfortunate souls. With a mouth full of sharp teeth, she bit onto his shoulder, tearing through any protection like paper, ignoring the bite of Mallertach. Vaguely, Clary thought she heard fearful screaming (Ah, was that a plea for life? How pitiful).

(Raziel, save me.)

Clary started to eat.

(Thank you for the food.)

[coffeecomicsgalore]

25 Days of Adrien (+6 of Marinette)

Part of the MLHolidays2k19 Prompt.

Ao3

Chapter 27 – Candles

The common was busy with people bustling around with the after Christmas rush. Customers were in and out of shops trying to use up any gift certificates that they had received or returning items that were not to their taste or not their size.  Adrien smiled happily at the movements, pocketing his hands as he whistled away.

Plagg was sitting peacefully in Adrien’s scarf, purring at his chosen’s happiness. Adrien had been spending the last two days focused on how to make his proposal perfect. He knew he wanted to do it soon; Valentine’s Day was too cliché and too far away (even though that was the anniversary of their first date), but New Year’s seemed like a perfect time. The only problem was that they hadn’t made any concrete plans on what they would be doing or where they would be going. But nonetheless, he needed to get started with the most important part of a proposal – the ring. Everything else could be figured out after the fact.

Any free moment that Adrien had was spent looking at rings on his phone or computer. At one point, his intense smiling intrigued Nathalie enough to ask if he was up to something with the baker’s daughter. Adrien blushed, of course; he didn’t think his smiling would be a cause of concern. Sheepishly, he rubbed his neck as he contemplated on whether to tell Nathalie what he had been smiling at. Before he could answer, Gabriel walked through the dining hall ready to have dinner with his son.

His father was keeping his promise; he was now joining Adrien for meals. His father started the conversations with meaningful topics and ended them with farewell greetings. He even asked how Marinette was doing and what her plans for university and internships would be. By that afternoon, right before he left to search the shops at the common, Adrien decided to take a leap of faith and tell his father his thoughts.  

“I’m planning on proposing to Marinette.” He said abruptly, interrupting the laughter between Gabriel and Nathalie.

Nathalie glanced straight at Adrien without missing a beat. Adrien had his head down, slowly nudging the fork on his plate, his eyes peering through his tousled fringe towards his father. He waited for the response he knew would come – No Adrien. You’re too young. She’s an inspiring designer who is only using you for your connections. It will be detrimental to the brand for you to be tied down already. No matter what Gabriel was about to say, he would refuse right away and go his own path. He will do anything he needs to do to be with Marinette.  

What came out of his father’s mouth was nothing short of a miracle.  

“I hope you asked her father for her hand then.” He said with a smile.  

Adrien was shocked. He looked up to his father and noticed a loving look to his eyes. “I remember when I was your age,” Gabriel started, “your mother and I had been together for a little over a year. We met young and we were deeply in love by that point, much like the love that emanates between the two of you.”

A smile pressed Adrien’s lips as he heard the soft words about his mother.

“The moment I knew I wanted to marry her, I went straight to her father and asked for her hand. The silent approval that shot across his face was all I needed to move forward and buy the ring that she had worn for the rest of her days.” He grabbed his glass and took a swig of wine. “We were 18, too. Still in school and figuring out our future. It seems that the apple does not fall far from the tree, especially when it comes to the love of our lives.”

“So... you approve?” Adrien said hesitantly, waiting to see if there was a ‘but’.

“Marinette is an amazing young lady. Not just as a designer, but in the way she cares for her loved ones and how she cares and loves you. No one can mistake how much she loves you. She’s selfless and has many qualities that remind me of your mother. She will make an amazing wife and mother one day.”

With that, Adrien sprung from his seat to awkwardly hug his father in thanks before grabbing his winter gear and running out the door to see Marinette’s father.  

Luckily for Adrien, Marinette was out of the house and spending time with Alya so meeting Tom and Sabine in private had been easy. Sitting them down was not as easy, so he nervously blurted out his plans and waited for their reactions. To say they were ecstatic was an understatement. Tom wrapped Adrien in a bear hug while Sabine waited until he was let down before hugging and kissing her future son-in-law. Once he bid them goodbye, he walked towards the common to search for the perfect ring.

So, there he was whistling as he walked around, the happiest he could be at this moment. He sees the jewelry store across the street and waits for the light to flash before he trudged forward. As he waited, his phone rang with a familiar ringtone; a contact he hadn’t seen for some time flashed across his phone.  

“Hey, Chloe. Merry Christmas.” He said happily.  

“Adrikins! Merry Christmas to you too!” She happily said back.  

The last three years had been tough for Chloe. After she was akumatized into Miracle Queen, she faced serious repercussions for siding with Hawkmoth. To avoid further backlash, it was decided that Chloe would move to New York with her mother to fix up her life, and honestly, it was the best thing they ever did for her.  

She came back over the summer with a new outlook on life. She personally went and apologized to her classmates for exposing them to Hawkmoth, bullying them, and using her father as a way to get around things she didn’t want to do. She reached out to Sabrina and treats her the way she should be treated. She even took Marinette out and apologized for everything she had done to her and is now friendly with her too. It took a lot for Chloe to realize what she had done wrong and she was using her time back to fix it all.

“I know it’s cutting it close, but if you and Marinette don’t have any plans on New Year’s Eve, my father is having a party and I would love for you two to be there.”

Adrien smiled at her invitation and crossed the street towards the shop. “I don’t see why not. Marinette and I haven’t decided on what we wanted to do. I’ll have to call her and ask of course, but I don’t think she would say no.”  

He entered the shop and looked around to the jewelry on display when an ornate pink stone gleamed in the light. A smile crossed his lips when an idea sprung his brain. “Hey Chloe? Is the rooftop decorated like usual?”

-----xoxox-----

Adrien picked up Marinette from Alya’s home and walked them towards the restaurant he had reservations for. It was their usual weekly routine – a stroll down the Seine, a restaurant date (either a café or restaurant of the dater’s choosing), and back to one of their homes for a movie and cuddles. Tonight, Adrien was the one who was taking Marinette out on the date and he chose a beautiful, candlelit dinner at Le Cinq.

Snow was slowly falling around them creating another beautiful chilly night in Paris. Marinette was holding onto Adrien’s arm with gusto, laughing over the silly conversations she and Alya had that afternoon. Adrien added to the conversation, talking about the friendly argument Nathalie and his Father had over dinner. Soon, the couple reached the doorway to the restaurant and just like the gentleman that he is, he swung open the door for his lady as she sauntered her way in.

The venue was warm and enchanting with the twinkling lights adorning the bushes outside the windows. A Christmas tree stood tall in the entryway, garland hung on the fireplace at the very end of the large room, and candles lit up each table beautifully. It was not the first time they had been at this restaurant. Adrien had taken Marinette there as one of their first dates many months ago. It was beautiful, but pricey, and Marinette enjoyed being spoiled every once in a while, even if this type of venue was not her cup of tea.

Adrien chose this place as a memento for his thoughts, the day that both his father and her parents gave their blessings over the impending proposal and the day he bought the ring he would soon give her. His plans have been set in motion, and he was choosing to spend the next few days doting on his beloved, spoiling her rotten until Tuesday night when he will get down on his knee and ask her to make him the happiest man for the rest of his days.

They spent a few romantic hours at the restaurant, eating, drinking, and conversing over the candlelight. Each passing minute felt like seconds, the hours feeling like minutes, sitting until all the wine was drunk and all the food was eaten.  

Back at the Agreste mansion, the two lovestruck teens sat comfortably on the sofa watching movie after movie until it was time for her leave for the night. Marinette leaned comfortably into Adrien’s chest soaking in the warmth and enjoying the purrs that came easily from his chest. The sudden calmness was enough for Marinette to slowly drift asleep, Adrien drifting along with her.    

[zeldadeservesbetter]

Arthur's Breaking Point, Part 1

((So, I'm playing RD2 at 3:30 a.m., right? I just donated a little over $60 in the camp funds, and i stocked us up on food an medicine and got Dutch a new setup. As I'm leaving to make more money, MISS GRIMSHAW waltz's up to me, and has the nerve to tell me she has "noticed" that Arthur hasn't been putting in the box lately. He shrugged it off and said he would, but honestly i was P I S S E D. so this is a lil snippet of how i believe Arthur should've reacted :D enjoy!))

((P.S., if my writing is bad please forgive me! I'm still a beginner at fanfic, which is why I'm writing this, to get my skills up. If something is wrong, or you noticed something that's a little mixed up, please let me know so i can improve 😭😭))

All day, Arthur had been snatching saddlebags and robbing stores in Valentine, causing havoc in the town but also not being identified thanks to his new and handy sack hood. $60 and a whitetail buck was all he could muster up, but it was rewarding to know he could feed people at camp.

Upon entering camp, Arthur noticed how everyone had been gathering around the stew pot, looking as if they hadn't eaten in days.

Getting off his horse, Arthur proudly lugged the deer off, trudging over to Pearson's wagon to hook it up, earning a shocked look from him but not a single glare from anyone else.

Sometimes, it felt as if he were underappreciated. And it showed, too.

Arthur just sighed, now a hopeless wreck from all that hard work he'd been doing today, but still happy enough to donate to camp.

Stuffing the remainder of his money into the tithing box, Arthur huffed, smiling fondly when Dutch gave him a thumbs up and a "good job, son.", making him feel almost instantly better.

Then as he was leaving, Miss Grimshaw approached him.

"Mr. Morgan..." She started, hands on her hips.

"Yes Miss Grimshaw?" Arthur sighed, his arms hanging effortlessly alongside his hips.

"I've noticed that you haven't been putting as much money into the camp funds... And well..."

"I'm sorry, miss... Just been busy with things.. You know? I'll make sure to donate more often, i promise." Arthur answered, almost sounding like he was just ready to collapse on his cot.

"Well, promises don't keep us fed Morgan." Miss Grimshaw finished hastily, ready to stomp off had it not been for Arthur's loud and annoyed "godammit woman!"

Everyone at camp had heard, their heads turning to the pair, wondering what would happen next. Of course, Abigail covered Jack's ears and walked him off to read a book with him.

"Almost every goddamn day i come into camp with a buck on my back and rabbits on my side!" Arthur seethed, all his bottled up anger finally pouring out.

"Well then you must bring in ghost animals, i don't see us being fed properly and the lot of us are hungry!" Miss Grimshaw had tried to bite back, visibly making Arthur even MORE angry.

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT HUNGER! YOU AIN'T EVER SEEN HUNGER, NOR WILL YOU EVER SO LONG AS I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT IT!" Arthur hollered, finally fed up with his (bullshit) camp.

"I slave for you all, i give you all my shares, i buy you chickens, horse posts, i even bought Dutch a new livin' space! I feed you, put medicine in your mouth, and bullets in your guns!" Arthur rambled on, his voice hoarse and hollering throughout camp. As he was yelling, he had been over at his space packing his things into a bag that he would just hook to his horse's saddle to get out quickly.

"All i ever get back is bitchin' and fussin', AND I AM DONE!" He finished, not realizing nearly everyone he considered dear had been gathering around him. He hadn't noticed, but a few tears had rolled down his cheek. He'd never felt so angry in his entire life, not even when Micah had joined the group. And not to mention, his anger was directed towards his family. The people he held close to his heart.

Muffled voices had tried to drag him back into camp, to talk to him and reason with him, but there was no reasoning.

If they weren't grateful for him and his deeds, they clearly didn't need him.

As he attempted to climb onto his horse, he felt a hand grab his arm, preventing him from running off. It was John.

"Arthur... I-I... Never knew you felt that way..." John had said, his expression worried and pained.

"Because you never ask. You never care about me- goddammit can't i just get a 'thank you Arthur' or 'we love you Arthur' every once in a while?! That's all i want!" Arthur bit back, making John jump slightly.

The rest of the camp could do nothing but watch as Arthur broke down in front of them, they watched as he sobbed and screamed, his body trembling at every word that escaped his mouth.

"I'm outta here. You don't need me- and i see it." He had finished, after arguing with a hurt John.

Arthur hopped onto his horse, completely ignoring John, he even thought his horse trampled his foot as he rode off quickly. Part of him wanted to go back to make sure he was okay- but he knew if he did he'd be sucked right back into camp, the exact opposite of where he wanted to be right now.

He was sure at this point Dutch wanted to exile him, to disown him and tell him he wasn't his son, but he couldn't help but love the man he considered to be his father. They had been through so much together, and it was a genuine shame it had to end like this. But Arthur stood up for himself, something he had never done. He never knew how to love himself, or stand up for himself, but seeing how everyone had reacted, he learned quickly.

(( ill honestly probably write part 2 in the next few minutes, but who knows 😂😂. I hope you enjoyed it, and the next one is gonna take place in a place you all experienced in the prologue- Colter!))

[trashforhockeyguys]

Can’t Help But Love You -3- Kasperi Kapanen

A/N: All previous parts are linked on my masterlist. Also, sorry it took so long, and the fact that it’s being posted on Valentines Day. Although, I regret nothing.

When you woke up in the morning, all you could think about was how nice it felt to be in Kappy’s arms. His head was still nestled in the crook of you neck, and you could feel his chest rising and falling with every little snore he let out. You were completely comfortable and happy. All of this was something you normally just dreamt of, yet this time it was real.

 There was nothing that would cause you to want to move from this spot. You wanted this moment just to stay like this. You wanted his arms to always stay around you like this, with his chest against your back. You were wrapped in warmth, you weren’t sure how many times you’d really woken up next to Kappy, but never had it been like this.

 He stirred just enough for you to realize that he was beginning to wake up. That fact alone was enough to make you snuggle back into his arms. You’d decided that you didn’t want to leave this bed for anything. You wanted to stay in his arms for as long as you possibly could. You didn’t really care if that meant abandoning everyone else in the house.

 You rolled over in his arms so you could face him. He looked so peaceful and comfortable. You carefully reached over and stroked his cheek. He smiled, still fast asleep. Your whole body felt warm. You felt an undeniable since of happiness, it was almost too much.

 You almost felt as if your heart couldn’t take it. You weren’t often emotional, except for when it came to Kappy apparently. That boy held your heart in his hands whether he knew it or not, and you were giving him more and more of yourself by the second. You’d give it all to him if he asked.

 That fact alone was enough to scare you. You’d never really be truly in love with anyone like this. You’d never wanted a whole future with anyone the way you wanted it with Kappy. You wanted to wake up next to him every morning, and fall sleep with him every night. You wanted the in between moments…you wanted it all.

“Kap, I need to pee,” You whispered, regretting that you even had to move. But at the same time, you suddenly wanted just a bit of space to process what you were feeling, before you came running back into bed.

 He groaned and held you even tighter, “Not letting go.”

 “Unless you want me to pee all over you, I suggest that you do,” You lightly laughed.

 Even from his sleepy state, he released his grip on you, allowing you to wiggle away slightly. But before you could completely get out of the bed you leaned back over to kiss him. He made a noise, somewhere between a mix of a groan and a whine, before trying to roll over and reach for you again. You had to fight yourself to not just give up and crawl back into bed with him, even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to do just that.

 “I’ll be right back,” You promised him, gently moving some of his hair out of his face.

 “I love you,” His words were muffled by the pillow, but you knew you’d heard them right.

 Your breath hitched and you turned back to look at him. Some small part of you was so sure that he hadn’t really said it. But then you realized, in a split second, that he had said it. And he loved you. He loved you.

 You were standing there, trying to understand what this would really mean. Not even a minute had gone by, barely even thirty seconds, when he said something else. A name. But the name wasn’t yours, it wasn’t even close to yours. A name you’d never heard before, but it wasn’t yours. He wasn’t saying that to you.

 Just as you’d gotten your hopes up. Just as you’d started to think that it would be different this time, and you and Kappy could actually be more than whatever you’d always been, the situation changed again.

 You felt like you’d be sick. You suddenly became very aware that you were still only wearing his shirt. You couldn’t even bring yourself to grab your clothes from the floor. It was all you could do to even force yourself back into your room.

 You felt like you were going to be sick. You’d allowed yourself to think that this was the beginning of something real, but you were beginning to realize nothing had changed. Kappy was still Kappy, and you were still just you. Just his friend, the person he used during the season because he was afraid of commitment.

 It hit you all at once, it didn’t matter how long the two of you played this game, he’d never see you the same way that you saw him. You’d never be more to him.

 You had the sudden need to get out of the house. For some reason, you couldn’t stay anymore. Whether it was because you felt brayed in a way, or if you simply just didn’t know how to get through the rest of the week, you weren’t sure.

 You frantically grabbed for your bag and searched for the most comfortable clothes you could find. Next you ran right for the shower, feeling the need to scrub every inch of your skin. You just hoped that he wouldn’t be awake by the time you finished.

 Twenty minutes later you were carrying your two bags downstairs, praying that no one would fight you on this. Steph, Mitch, and Willy were all sitting in the little breakfast nook, while Auston was stretched out on the couch in the living room. Zach, and more importantly, Kappy were nowhere to be seen.

 “Why do you have your bags?” Mitch questioned.

 “Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?” Steph quickly got up and made her way over to you.

 “I need to go,” You replied, “I need to get out of here.”

 “But the week just started,” Willy protested.

 “You guys are free to stay,” You quickly explained, “But I just can’t stay. I need to leave.”

Willy stepped in front of you to keep you from running right out of the kitchen. You knew he’d let you passed him if you tried, but you also knew that you owed your friends some type of explanation before you just disappeared.

 “Y/N, what did he do?” Willy asked carefully.

 You shook your head and grabbed your bags. You couldn’t explain it to him, or Mitch, or Steph. Because they wouldn’t understand. They’d tell you that you were being silly. So you said nothing as you pushed by Willy.

 “Just-” You paused at the door and turned back to face them, “Just tell him that I’m sorry.”

 “Y/N,” Willy pleaded.

 “I’ll see you guys later,” You promised, “Enjoy the rest of the week.”

 You were in your car and backing out of the driveway before any of them thought to try and stop you. All you knew was that you had to get away. You couldn’t stay in that house with him now. Not after last night and this morning. Not when he said he loved someone else. You’d been kidding yourself, and now you had to figure out how to face it.

 You made sure that you’d driven far enough away from the house, so that you wouldn’t be found, before you pulled over. You needed to stop and breathe because you felt like your lungs were going to explode. You loved him and you hated yourself for it. You’d allowed yourself to fall right back into it again, you didn’t even try to fight it.

 You wanted to scream, it was all you could do not to. You’d tried to fight it all again, and you’d lost. You’d always lose to him… Always.

 Well over a month later, you were still successfully avoiding Kappy. He’d stopped trying to call you nearly two weeks after you’d walked out. Willy stopped calling too after you’d yelled at him one night. You hated doing this; cutting all of your friends off like this wasn’t ideal. But you didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t see Kappy, you weren’t prepared for what that would feel like.

 You hadn’t been ready to lose him like this either, but you didn’t have a choice, you had to do what you had to do. Even if that meant losing the most important person in your life.  You knew you were being stupid in a way, but you didn’t know what else to do.

 You had to cope, or whatever. Or at least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

 You’d been fine sitting on your couch, watching Dawson’s Creek over and over again. You’d probably eaten your weight in chocolate, and already watched every episode of Friends and Criminal Minds. You were starting to run low on options to keep yourself busy.

 “Get your ass up and in a jersey,” Steph demanded, bursting into your apartment, “Huh, you moved on to Dawson’s Creek, interesting choice.”

 “Hello Steph,” You said sarcastically.

 “C’mon, up now,” She switched off your TV, “You’re coming to the game tonight.”

 “Hey! They were about to-”

 “I don’t care who they were about to fight over, again,” She groaned, “You are not going to sit here and watch Dawson’s Creek all night.”

 “Fine, I’ll watch The O.C. or Gossip Girl,” You shrugged, “Maybe, I’ll even watch Degrassi again, because I haven’t watched that since high school.”

“You’re pathetic,” She told you, “Get up, get dressed, I’m not letting you hide out anymore. You promised you’d come, so you’re coming.”

 “Steph, I really don’t-”

 “And I really don’t care anymore,” She argued, “I don’t care about whatever happened between you and Kappy. He doesn’t even know what he did, he just knows he woke up and you were gone and no one knew why. You won’t even talk to any of the other guys. So, you’re going to this fucking game, because we all miss our friend.”

 You sighed and reluctantly stood up. You knew she was right. You’d completely cut them all off without an explanation. But only because you couldn’t bring yourself to explain it to Kappy. Not when you still felt so betrayed. You’d trusted him this time, you thought it would be different.

 “I’m leaving in five minutes,” Steph stated, “You better be in the car when I do.”

 Whether you liked it or not, nearly twenty minutes later, Steph was dragging you into the arena. You hadn’t been to a game since preseason started, and now with the home opener drawing closer, you could feel the excitement.

You hadn’t planned on going to sit with all of the other family, but once again Steph hadn’t given you a choice. If there was one thing that Steph was incredibly good at, it was making you do things. You couldn’t say no to her most of the time, even when that’s all you wanted to do. She’d just talk you into it anyway. 

“See, this wasn’t so hard,” She mentioned, once the game already started.

 “If they lose, I’m going to be really pissed off,” You grumbled.

 “But at least you came,” She shrugged.

“Against my will,” You added.

 “But you’re here,” She stated, “Wait, go Mitch! C’mon SHOOT! Oh damnit, so close.”

 You shook your head and turned back to watch the game. The boys were winning, but it was preseason, so wins and loses didn’t mean much yet. Everyone was still trying to get back into the swing of things.

 However, that didn’t stop Steph from grabbing your arm, so hard she’d probably leave bruises, any time anything happened. You were almost positive you’d have a large bruise the shape of her hand tomorrow. At least it was getting colder, so sweaters were now acceptable.

 “See they won, now you won’t be grumpy,” She grinned.

 “No, I’m still grumpy. I was more than happy to stay on my couch,” You corrected, “But you would’ve dragged me here one way or another.”

 “Yes I would’ve,” She laughed, “C’mon, I told Mitch we’d wait down here.”

 “What? No!”

 Your feet automatically stopped moving. You couldn’t force yourself to take another step. Because suddenly the realization that you were in the same building as Kappy actually hit you. During the game, you knew he couldn’t see you in the crowd of thousands. He wouldn’t know you were there, unless you went down and waited by the locker room. You hadn’t even realized that you and Steph had gotten so far through the tunnels. You were almost to the locker room.

 You felt like your heart was in your throat and your lungs were threatening to explode. Steph, who’d kept walking, suddenly stopped and turned, seeming to realize you’d stopped. She looked back at you and gestured for you to keep walking.

 But you couldn’t. You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t talk to him, or even be near him. You were still so far away from him, but you could already feel your heart starting to break. You loved him, you loved him so much it was causing you physical pain.

“Steph,” You whimpered, “I can’t.”

 “Y/N, what happened between you two?” She questioned, rushing back over to you.

 Tears started burning your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to fight them. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. You couldn’t ignore your friends, the people that were like your second family, anymore.

 “I love him,” You mumbled, “God I love him so much.”

“Then what’s the problem?” She questioned.

 “He doesn’t love me Steph,” You shook your head, “He’ll never love me. I’m just the best friend who can’t resist him.”

 “Y/N, you can’t possibly think that’s true? Honestly, are you both that dense?”

 “Steph I-”

 “Y/N?”

 That voice caused your head to snap in the direction of the locker room door. There he was, still wet from the showers, long hair dripping. His chest was heaving, like he suddenly couldn’t catch his breath. He was blinking rabidly, almost like he expected you to just disappear. He took a single shaky step out of the locker room, still leaving the door wide open.

 “Kap! Close the door dumb-” William came into sight, and instantly stopped speaking as well, “Y/N, you’re here.”

 “I, um,” You took a deep breath and looked back at Steph, “I’ll see you later Steph.”

 And then you turned and started quickly walking away. You could hear the commotion behind you. Kappy was trying to get someone to let him go, so he could come after you. The prospect of that made you begin to almost run. You knew that there was a side tunnel that would take you outside, where you could get an Uber and finally get away.

 You just had to get outside. You fumbled with your phone and clicked on the Uber app. Once you got outside you knew you could run to the other side of the rink, where by the time anyone would get over there, you’d be long gone.

 “Y/N! Please stop!” Kappy called from not that far behind you, “Please!”

You gathered all the strength you had left and turned back around. He was running towards you but slowed when he saw that you’d finally stopped. He was almost out of breath by the time he reached you. You couldn’t help but think that he’d sprinted the entire way around the arena, which he would’ve had to have done to catch up with you.

 “Talk to me,” He begged, “Please. Tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

 You were crying by this point, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you shook your head. He reached for you, trying to grab your hands. You knew he was trying to understand, just as much as you’d been trying to understand how you’d gotten to this point.

 “I can’t Kappy,” You whispered.

 “Y/N, this is me, you can talk to me about anything,” He assured you, “I don’t want to lose us.”

 The sound of a car pulling up broke your trance. Your phone dinged, alerting you to the fact that it was your Uber. You wiggled out of his grasp, stopping to take a good look at him. Even he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

 “What did I do?” He asked you again, “What did I do?”

 You could feel your heart break this time. The feeling radiated through your entire body. You loved him, but he didn’t love you. The worst part was that he couldn’t even see it. He didn’t know, and you couldn’t tell him.

 You shook your head, stepping away from him, “I can’t Kappy,” You repeated.

 “I can’t lose you Y/N,” He protested, tears finally falling.

 “I’m sorry.”

[hobiheavenly]

Karma’s Cravings

✧ Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

✧ Multichapter, Coffee Shop AU, E2L

✧ Word Count: 3.9k 

✧Summary: Your life is going idyllically with your business with the exception of having to work with Min Yoongi who disapproves of your comercial tactics. but when one day a medium tells you he is to be the love of your life you are quick to shut her down but running away from fate can come with cause consequences.  

✧ A.N: Ok so I know I promised a Hobi fic to be my first but I had this idea and I just had to develop it. I edited this from a fic I did years ago but I knew Yoongi would fill this au with ease! hope you enjoy it <3

Part 1

Life was blissful. It was the morning peace that filled your heart with happiness as you prepared a fresh batch of new cookies. You felt proud of yourself for the idyllic peace you had manage to create. not just because you were doing what you loved but also because you were doing it on your own. even when it wasn’t easy to get to where you were you had finally reached that part of life you wanted to be.

At a young age and with the help of your best friend Seokjin, you started your dream of owning your very own coffee shop. Seokjin was the one who cooked and you were the one who made the designs and the names as well. To many, especially your parents, this was just a ridiculous idea. That you would go broke in a matter of weeks. Turns out, that same  business they doubted from the start was rising and booming with clients. And even the name of the shop appealed to them, "Constant Cravings".

When you searched for the best spot, you found a great space located near your home and was located in the best location for people who needed sweets and caffeine in their daily lives. One bad part, your new boss. Well he wasn't your boss, but he was the manager of the space where you had your coffee shop. His name was so bittersweet and the only mention of it made have the chills, Min Yoongi.

But today was not the day to think about the sourman that is your boss. Today you had a big gig to complete. You were offered the chance to make cookies for a big party that the owners of the space had every year for Valentines Day. You were especially excited since you would earn a lot of money that day. Bad news was, Seokjin reported sick that day so there was no one to replace him and you were left with all the work. Luckily enough you knew the recipe by heart and all you needed to do was bake all the batches for the party.

Once you got to the party, you put all the cookies in display and all of the most important people were there. The owner of the space was there, along with his son. There were many new people you hadn't seen before, great NEW customers! There was a woman in a big red tent, outside was a sign that read, "The Grand Madame Karma, she sees it all and knows it all".

"Yeah sure, all I need to know right now is if this thing is going to work or not, I really need the money"  you thought.

The day went on and the party seemed tranquil, and by that I meant boring. "Don't these people know how to party? All they talk about is business and money. Its Valentines Day! A time of love and caring, well if I had a boyfriend it would. Well, who needs a man when you have a successful shop?" you thought. Normally you’d speak your mind and not let any opinion inside you, but seeing that you would risk potential new customers so you kept your mouth shut.

It was almost over everyone was moving on from the event and really nothing interesting really happened. The red tent was still standing tall in front. Maybe it was curiosity or maybe it’s the excitement of the unknown but you were still curious about Madame Karma. To make an excuse to go inside you went to give her one of her famous cookies and a cup of steaming coffee. You might not get a reading but at least a cookie never hurt anybody. Inside there was a woman, black long hair, around her 50s with long red nails to match her the red cape and on the table with the crystal ball right at the center. Typical. You gave a pleasant smile to the woman, offering her the cookie and beverage. Madame Karma smiled tenderly and felt relieved.

“Thanks a million my dear! Today is a cold day and a cookie is just what I need to get my romantic flow going. All I see in these people, or what they ask, is how their business will be. It’s Valentines Day and no one has asked me about romance!”

“Maybe because they are too stuck up to even think beyond their stupid computers. I call them "Informal Clones" they are too serious and superficial” you giggled.

“Now there is a great opinion I've been waiting to hear all day!” said Madame Karma, she looked at you and up and down “you know I used to have legs like yours, when I was your age.”

“Well you are going to love this cookie, it's called “Legs For Days", plus it's the shape of a cute high heel” You felt proud for your cookie naming abilities it was cute and sassy just like your brand was.

“Oh, god this is the most delicious cookie I have eaten, and trust me I have eaten too many cookies in my life” the medium laughed “What’s your name dear?”

“It’s ___, and I’m assuming you’re Madame Karma?”

“The one, the only, knows all, sees all!” she praised herself raising her arms up dramatically and laughed loudly at her over the top performance. “so tell me ___ how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house! I was going to bring it to you earlier, but as you can see my business is full.”

“I always give something in return. Tell you what, how about I read you your fortune as payment for such a wonderful cookie”

“Sounds good” you shrugged. As you sat in front of Madame Karma you started to feel rather giddy. You had always been curious to find out about her future, but never had the time to go to an actual medium.

“You have a bright aura, my dear. It has a tight connection” Madame Karma took out a stack of cards and put them on the table “I will employ the card with you, pick out 6 cards with your left hand” You did as told and gave her the cards. After that Madame Karma put them in groups of three and began to read the first group “This represents your past. I see three people, two men and a woman, I'm guessing they are your mother and father and brother, am I right?” You nodded, lucky guess. “Well I see disapproval in them, especially your father. He didn't want you to open your shop.”

You nodded once more. “He felt that I should go to college and I said I wanted to do a project with a friend. That really didn’t sit well with him being that I was supposed to become a lawyer or even an administrator of a huge company. I never cared for math, I even sucked at it in school so it wasn't great. I went on to this business because it was something I enjoyed.”

“Well just as you mention  I saw that decision in here! Now let’s go to your present. I see a great success in your business, although I see a presence of someone that pulls you down, like a big spine on your back.”

Immediately you thought of the pompous arrogant Min Yoongi that always criticized your business place calling it a waste of time and that the names of your creations were too scandalous. What did that jerk know about creativity?

“what will happen to that spine? Will he go away?”

“Patience, my dear” said Madame “wait till I get to the future. Right now we are in your present. Even though your professional life is boosting with great things, I see your personal life is a bit contrary to it. I see loneliness. No masculine company, but…..”

Oh she knew how to peak your interest… “But what?”

“I see someone on the horizon…”

“Please tell me it someone nice”you begged. It has been a while since you had been on a date, and the last one was a total lame waste of time!

“I see, someone who is hooked into your professional life. Now lets see the last row, that represents your instant future” after reading the last row Madame Karma looked at you with a half smile “do you remember when we talked about that spine up your ass? I can see he is a man, close to you although not in a personal way. Maybe a work partner” she looked at you with a gleam in her eye “do you know who Im talking about?”

“I can think of one man that I consider a spine up my ass” you rolled your eyes “He is the one who takes care of the building.”

“Yes I see he is a man of power.”

“Yeah, a powerful idiot!”

“What's his name?”

“Min Yoongi” you answered “Can you tell me if he will leave soon? Tell me he is going to be transferred to Siberia? Antarctica? Africa?”

“No. On the contrary. His connection with you will change completely. He will change from "pain in my ass" to "I can’t live without him".”

You dropped your jaw and began to laugh your guts off “ Oh that’s a good one! You must be talking about another spine up my ass, because I know it’s not him.

“Sweetheart, I assure you that he is. These are the cards, and Karma doesn't lie. Plus, you can’t escape Karma. If you try to escape from it, you will be forever cursed. And trust me, you don't want that to happen” Madame Karma grabbed your hands and looked at you in the eyes “Min Yoongi, even when you think he is the most insufferable man in the world, is the love of your life.”

_____________________________

Min Yoongi  was looking at you from across the garden and as he saw you, he felt his body feeling tense. There was just something about you that didn't feel right, at least not for him. He didn't understand what it was, but you were strange and you always got to his head making him irritated. Surely it was because of your notorious shop with all those extravagant and sensual names plus the way that you decorated the place was not exactly decent. I mean, who ever called a cookie "Chocolate Orgasm" or a coffee called "Hot, wet, and wild"?

The first day the store opened he went inside for a cappuccino so he could go to work, when suddenly you came to the counter with a great smile and asked him if he wanted the specialty of the day, "A Slow Trip To Pleasure". That happened less than a year a go and he still remember the way he had jumped when he saw such an innocent looking girl pronounce those words. But it was more the amazement of the tone in your voice and the spark in your eye that seemed to invite him as he had stood in shock. He had never been so nervous with a woman in all his life than he had been that day in the coffee shop.

If it weren't for the fact that "Constant Cravings" was the shop that produced more profits in the entire space, he would have canceled your contract a long time ago. Having you around caused too much problems. Especially since you were a complete opposite of him. You were outgoing and outspoken, while he was a calm person who minded his business and just prefered the silence. He preferred the calm of having a boss than doing all by yourself. Every time he would tell you that the way you sold things were too extravagant, but you would just laugh and tell him that it was exactly that extravagance, or more likely the sex appeal, is what sold your items the most.

True it as it may be, it was just too much and there were rules in the contract that established that you must control her decorations, but since no one ever complained things stayed as they were. But soon would come the day that you would regret this, since every time you changed your front window decoration you exploited more and more the theme of sexuality.

He looked around and saw you standing outside of the tent of the medium he had assigned for entertainment for the party. He saw your eyes, looking like two big crystals that shine like the sky in a hot spring day after a great storm. He tried to look away but instead he looked at you up and down looking at every centimeter of your body. You were far from looking sexy compared to the other business women in the party. In fact you were in your uniform, a white blouse and black pants. So then why did he feel so strange? It was ridiculous to feel attracted to a woman who he didn't even know on a personal field. But every time he saw you he imagine your lips moving slowly on him offering him a "Slow Trip To Pleasure".

“Are you going to visit the Medium?”

Yoongi shook his head, as if coming out of a trance and looked beside him. There standing was Hoseok, his best friend, with a cookie in his hand and a great smile, since he was always optimistic.

“Excuse me?” asked Yoongi.

“I said, are you going to go see the medium?”

“Naa! I don't believe in that gibberish!”

“Why don't you calm yourself down and have a good time? It’s your party!” Hoseok cheered him. It was true, he had organized everything to impress the owner of the space who wasn't especially fond of having a party, but seeing the opportunity to get new customers and keep happy his investors. He left Yoongi with the job and he put it in himself to make the best party ever.

Hoseok gave a small punch in his ribs and gave a sneaky smile to Yoongi “Seems like ____ is getting her cards read.”

“You know her?” Yoongi asked surprised.

“How can I not know the owner of the coffee shop that is close to my office? She is a very sweet gal.”

“Sweet wouldn't be the right term to describe her” said Yoongi smirking.

“You're right, the correct term would be "Intensely Hot"” Hoseok said with a seductive smile. A certain sense of jealousy began to grow in Yoongi's stomach but he didn't listen to it and looked at you.

“Hot? You think so?”

“Are you kidding? You're the manager of the space and you haven't noticed her?”

“ I've noticed her” Yoongi said deffensively

“And haven't you noticed that ____ is a hotty with a body? I mean she is so hot she could make a pool go on fire!”

“Well that may be true but her products and her technique for selling them left much to be desired.”

“Well its those product of hers that keep me alive! Yesterday I tried this new cookie called "Sugar kiss" and I'm telling you, that woman can make a grown man cry with them! They are extremely delicious! I wished she could make this cookie called "Wild Sex In The Back Seat Of A Car", I would sure try that…..with her.”

Yoongi looked at his best friend with a death glare and  Hoseok smiled innocently “Sorry dude, I forgot I was walking on your turf.”

“What in blazes are you talking about?”

“Dude, you gave me the death glare! That means you are interested in her. Plus you haven't stopped looking at her since she went into the tent. For one thing I'm happy that you finally are into a girl that isn't a total stuck up. Bad thing for me is now don't have a chance. Maybe she has a sister.”

“Ok I am NOT interested in _____! First of all, if I'm looking at her it’s because I'm trying to see what she is going to do next because she always wants to irritate me by doing something out of the ordinary. Second of all, I am not always interested in stuck up girls. And third of all, if you want her you can have her.”

“If you continue to say that I'm going to end up believing that, and just so you know you do date uptight, stuck up women, all the time! Every girl is a copy of the other! Boring to hell too. But ___ is not boring in any way! Good thing you don't like her cause I've been hitting on her all week and she has been sweet but just that, sweet. Could be she has a boyfriend.”

Yoongi got relieved that you didn't pay attention to Hoseok’s advances but suddenly felt frustrated that there was a possibility you could have a formal boyfriend. Wait, why the hell was he worrying? He didn't care for you personal life!

“Come on, lets get your future read! Maybe we can find out if there is a woman that can shake your chubber! I bet it’s ___!”

“Why don't you go and see about yourself” Yoongi said “You need a woman more than me.”

“I already got a date with a girl I met in the supermarket, her name is Momo and she was talking about Broccoli when I met her.”

“But you hate Broccoli.”

“Well for that babe, it was well worth it. You should’ve seen her body to know what I'm talking about. Besides you need a spin around the town, meet a girl that you can have a good time. When is the last time you had sex?”

“I am not telling you” the last thing Yoongi needed was his best friend laughing at his dried up sex life. He would die of laughter if he knew.

“Yoongi, either you tell me, or I'm going directly to _____ and telling her that you want her.”

“God you're like the nosy brother I never wanted! Two months! There! Happy?”

Hoseok’s jaw dropped “ DUDE! Your dick is going to fall off if you don't do something about it!”

“Oh brother! Do you always think about this or is the Valentines Day spirit swelling you mind and apparently your dick too?” Yoongi rolled his eyes “I am going to see if I can get a girl if it will get you off my case!”

“Ok, but let's have fun tonight, go see the medium, she can tell you about your love life! Maybe ____ can get it to be more fun.”

“NOT HER!”

“Ok but at least she can give us a clue to whom” Hoseok patted him on his shoulder and got him close to the tent and they saw you coming out. You looked at Yoongi and then quickly turned to Hoseok, almost avoiding his gaze.

“Hobi, I'm glad to see you” you smiled tenderly “Are you missing my double coffee with no foam?”

“That and your cookies” he smiled back and winked “they are the best things I have ever had in my life!”

You smiled back and Yoongi could have sworn that seemed to be the most seductive thing. Damn! He loved contagious smiles and particularly this woman had the sexiest contagious smile ever! Curse his bad luck!

“Min Yoongi” You said in a serious voice.

“_____” he greeted.

Seeing Hoseok and Yoongi was an odd match considering the fact that they looked like polar opposites, “Are you acquainted?”

“Yes we are very good friends since high school”  the manager said all serious.

“Now that's something you don't see every day” You laughed.

“It seems you are surprised to see that I have friends.”

“Well at least one who is very charming.”

“I can be charming. I am just not that patient with people who live to irritate me daily with their over the top decorations to a shop that leaves very little to the imagination. The mannequins I saw in the morning on the front window of your shop were completely naked!”

“I'm sorry but my mannequins are completely dressed” you began to protest.

“In an evident way like a slap.”

“Is that an invitation?” your eyes sparked with a flame of anger.

“I didn't know you had violent tendencies.”

“Only with people who irritate me and put me nervous”

“Speaking of nervous” he pointed with her index finger “your front window is….”

“Provocative? Interesting?”

“ Excessive!”

“Thanks for the compliment!” You smiled.

“THAT WAS NOT A COMPLIMENT!”

“Coming from you, the fact that you actually noticed the front window is a compliment in itself. Tell me did you really just look at it or were you so wrapped in yourself that when you were looking at your reflection you accidentally saw it?”

“Evidently our last conversation about the decoration was but alas forgotten” he rolled his eyes, his signature move, “Seeing as how you have such a short attention spam”

“Don't you dare insult my intellect! I know what you said! I know what I said! Don't come up to me with those airs of superiority and insult me.”

“Well if you can remember then you must have not heard”.

“I know how to hear and to remember, but I also know this exquisite word called "ignore" if you want I can get a dictionary for you so you can look it up! Oh and FYI you wouldn't know creativity even if it bit you up the ass!”

“You obviously don't know me”

“Oh I know you very well, Mr. Informal Clone!” you looked at him up and down with certain air of despise.

“I have that feeling too, Miss. I dont ever listen to my boss!” he said ironically, “how lucky for both of us.”

“I wouldn't employ that term in this case. But I see we finally agree in something!”

“I think it is the first time” he smirked.

“Maybe you should come by my shop, I just made a new cookie in the shape of a pair of lips” you smiled before adding “It's called, "BITE ME!"

Hoseok tried his hardest not to laugh but obviously it was in vain. Yoongi turned around and glared at his friend. Damn, he had forgotten about his friend and of Madame Karma as well, who was standing behind you. He scoweled at you and went to Madame Karma

“No thanks, I'm not in the mood for coffee. But maybe you can give hobi, seeing how he LOOOVES your coffee and cookies” then he turned to Madame Karma and shook her hand “Madame Karma I am….”

“Min Yoongi” she whispered amazed.

“Yes, well I came to see if you can tell me my future” he said without showing surprise as to how she could know his name.

“Your aura is bright…. exceptionally bright” Madame Karma said as she saw Yoongi's hand then she turned to you and made a movement with her head “____, dear, please leave. Mr. Min and I have a lot to talk about.”

Yoongi couldn't think of anything he had to ask Madame Karma in particulat. He was guessing that she would read some plain old cards say some mumbo jumbo and he would just nod. Then he would thank her and leave. How bad could it be?

Life was blissful. It was the morning peace that filled your heart with happiness as you prepared a fresh batch of new cookies. You felt proud of yourself for the idyllic peace you had manage to create. not just because you were doing what you loved but also because you were doing it on your own. even when it wasn’t easy to get to where you were you had finally reached that part of life you wanted to be.

At a young age and with the help of your best friend Seokjin, you started your dream of owning your very own coffee shop. Seokjin was the one who cooked and you were the one who made the designs and the names as well. To many, especially your parents, this was just a ridiculous idea. That you would go broke in a matter of weeks. Turns out, that same  business they doubted from the start was rising and booming with clients. And even the name of the shop appealed to them, "Constant Cravings".

When you searched for the best spot, you found a great space located near your home and was located in the best location for people who needed sweets and caffeine in their daily lives. One bad part, your new boss. Well he wasn't your boss, but he was the manager of the space where you had your coffee shop. His name was so bittersweet and the only mention of it made have the chills, Min Yoongi.

But today was not the day to think about the sourman that is your boss. Today you had a big gig to complete. You were offered the chance to make cookies for a big party that the owners of the space had every year for Valentines Day. You were especially excited since you would earn a lot of money that day. Bad news was, Seokjin reported sick that day so there was no one to replace him and you were left with all the work. Luckily enough you knew the recipe by heart and all you needed to do was bake all the batches for the party.

Once you got to the party, you put all the cookies in display and all of the most important people were there. The owner of the space was there, along with his son. There were many new people you hadn't seen before, great NEW customers! There was a woman in a big red tent, outside was a sign that read, "The Grand Madame Karma, she sees it all and knows it all".

"Yeah sure, all I need to know right now is if this thing is going to work or not, I really need the money"  you thought.

The day went on and the party seemed tranquil, and by that I meant boring. "Don't these people know how to party? All they talk about is business and money. Its Valentines Day! A time of love and caring, well if I had a boyfriend it would. Well, who needs a man when you have a successful shop?" you thought. Normally you’d speak your mind and not let any opinion inside you, but seeing that you would risk potential new customers so you kept your mouth shut.

It was almost over everyone was moving on from the event and really nothing interesting really happened. The red tent was still standing tall in front. Maybe it was curiosity or maybe it’s the excitement of the unknown but you were still curious about Madame Karma. To make an excuse to go inside you went to give her one of her famous cookies and a cup of steaming coffee. You might not get a reading but at least a cookie never hurt anybody. Inside there was a woman, black long hair, around her 50s with long red nails to match her the red cape and on the table with the crystal ball right at the center. Typical. You gave a pleasant smile to the woman, offering her the cookie and beverage. Madame Karma smiled tenderly and felt relieved.

“Thanks a million my dear! Today is a cold day and a cookie is just what I need to get my romantic flow going. All I see in these people, or what they ask, is how their business will be. It’s Valentines Day and no one has asked me about romance!”

“Maybe because they are too stuck up to even think beyond their stupid computers. I call them "Informal Clones" they are too serious and superficial” you giggled.

“Now there is a great opinion I've been waiting to hear all day!” said Madame Karma, she looked at you and up and down “you know I used to have legs like yours, when I was your age.”

“Well you are going to love this cookie, it's called “Legs For Days", plus it's the shape of a cute high heel” You felt proud for your cookie naming abilities it was cute and sassy just like your brand was.

“Oh, god this is the most delicious cookie I have eaten, and trust me I have eaten too many cookies in my life” the medium laughed “What’s your name dear?”

“It’s ___, and I’m assuming you’re Madame Karma?”

“The one, the only, knows all, sees all!” she praised herself raising her arms up dramatically and laughed loudly at her over the top performance. “so tell me ___ how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house! I was going to bring it to you earlier, but as you can see my business is full.”

“I always give something in return. Tell you what, how about I read you your fortune as payment for such a wonderful cookie”

“Sounds good” you shrugged. As you sat in front of Madame Karma you started to feel rather giddy. You had always been curious to find out about her future, but never had the time to go to an actual medium.

“You have a bright aura, my dear. It has a tight connection” Madame Karma took out a stack of cards and put them on the table “I will employ the card with you, pick out 6 cards with your left hand” You did as told and gave her the cards. After that Madame Karma put them in groups of three and began to read the first group “This represents your past. I see three people, two men and a woman, I'm guessing they are your mother and father and brother, am I right?” You nodded, lucky guess. “Well I see disapproval in them, especially your father. He didn't want you to open your shop.”

You nodded once more. “He felt that I should go to college and I said I wanted to do a project with a friend. That really didn’t sit well with him being that I was supposed to become a lawyer or even an administrator of a huge company. I never cared for math, I even sucked at it in school so it wasn't great. I went on to this business because it was something I enjoyed.”

“Well just as you mention  I saw that decision in here! Now let’s go to your present. I see a great success in your business, although I see a presence of someone that pulls you down, like a big spine on your back.”

Immediately you thought of the pompous arrogant Min Yoongi that always criticized your business place calling it a waste of time and that the names of your creations were too scandalous. What did that jerk know about creativity?

“what will happen to that spine? Will he go away?”

“Patience, my dear” said Madame “wait till I get to the future. Right now we are in your present. Even though your professional life is boosting with great things, I see your personal life is a bit contrary to it. I see loneliness. No masculine company, but…..”

Oh she knew how to peak your interest… “But what?”

“I see someone on the horizon…”

“Please tell me it someone nice”you begged. It has been a while since you had been on a date, and the last one was a total lame waste of time!

“I see, someone who is hooked into your professional life. Now lets see the last row, that represents your instant future” after reading the last row Madame Karma looked at you with a half smile “do you remember when we talked about that spine up your ass? I can see he is a man, close to you although not in a personal way. Maybe a work partner” she looked at you with a gleam in her eye “do you know who Im talking about?”

“I can think of one man that I consider a spine up my ass” you rolled your eyes “He is the one who takes care of the building.”

“Yes I see he is a man of power.”

“Yeah, a powerful idiot!”

“What's his name?”

“Min Yoongi” you answered “Can you tell me if he will leave soon? Tell me he is going to be transferred to Siberia? Antarctica? Africa?”

“No. On the contrary. His connection with you will change completely. He will change from "pain in my ass" to "I can’t live without him".”

You dropped your jaw and began to laugh your guts off “ Oh that’s a good one! You must be talking about another spine up my ass, because I know it’s not him.

“Sweetheart, I assure you that he is. These are the cards, and Karma doesn't lie. Plus, you can’t escape Karma. If you try to escape from it, you will be forever cursed. And trust me, you don't want that to happen” Madame Karma grabbed your hands and looked at you in the eyes “Min Yoongi, even when you think he is the most insufferable man in the world, is the love of your life.”

_____________________________

Min Yoongi  was looking at you from across the garden and as he saw you, he felt his body feeling tense. There was just something about you that didn't feel right, at least not for him. He didn't understand what it was, but you were strange and you always got to his head making him irritated. Surely it was because of your notorious shop with all those extravagant and sensual names plus the way that you decorated the place was not exactly decent. I mean, who ever called a cookie "Chocolate Orgasm" or a coffee called "Hot, wet, and wild"?

The first day the store opened he went inside for a cappuccino so he could go to work, when suddenly you came to the counter with a great smile and asked him if he wanted the specialty of the day, "A Slow Trip To Pleasure". That happened less than a year a go and he still remember the way he had jumped when he saw such an innocent looking girl pronounce those words. But it was more the amazement of the tone in your voice and the spark in your eye that seemed to invite him as he had stood in shock. He had never been so nervous with a woman in all his life than he had been that day in the coffee shop.

If it weren't for the fact that "Constant Cravings" was the shop that produced more profits in the entire space, he would have canceled your contract a long time ago. Having you around caused too much problems. Especially since you were a complete opposite of him. You were outgoing and outspoken, while he was a calm person who minded his business and just prefered the silence. He preferred the calm of having a boss than doing all by yourself. Every time he would tell you that the way you sold things were too extravagant, but you would just laugh and tell him that it was exactly that extravagance, or more likely the sex appeal, is what sold your items the most.

True it as it may be, it was just too much and there were rules in the contract that established that you must control her decorations, but since no one ever complained things stayed as they were. But soon would come the day that you would regret this, since every time you changed your front window decoration you exploited more and more the theme of sexuality.

He looked around and saw you standing outside of the tent of the medium he had assigned for entertainment for the party. He saw your eyes, looking like two big crystals that shine like the sky in a hot spring day after a great storm. He tried to look away but instead he looked at you up and down looking at every centimeter of your body. You were far from looking sexy compared to the other business women in the party. In fact you were in your uniform, a white blouse and black pants. So then why did he feel so strange? It was ridiculous to feel attracted to a woman who he didn't even know on a personal field. But every time he saw you he imagine your lips moving slowly on him offering him a "Slow Trip To Pleasure".

“Are you going to visit the Medium?”

Yoongi shook his head, as if coming out of a trance and looked beside him. There standing was Hoseok, his best friend, with a cookie in his hand and a great smile, since he was always optimistic.

“Excuse me?” asked Yoongi.

“I said, are you going to go see the medium?”

“Naa! I don't believe in that gibberish!”

“Why don't you calm yourself down and have a good time? It’s your party!” Hoseok cheered him. It was true, he had organized everything to impress the owner of the space who wasn't especially fond of having a party, but seeing the opportunity to get new customers and keep happy his investors. He left Yoongi with the job and he put it in himself to make the best party ever.

Hoseok gave a small punch in his ribs and gave a sneaky smile to Yoongi “Seems like ____ is getting her cards read.”

“You know her?” Yoongi asked surprised.

“How can I not know the owner of the coffee shop that is close to my office? She is a very sweet gal.”

“Sweet wouldn't be the right term to describe her” said Yoongi smirking.

“You're right, the correct term would be "Intensely Hot"” Hoseok said with a seductive smile. A certain sense of jealousy began to grow in Yoongi's stomach but he didn't listen to it and looked at you.

“Hot? You think so?”

“Are you kidding? You're the manager of the space and you haven't noticed her?”

“ I've noticed her” Yoongi said deffensively

“And haven't you noticed that ____ is a hotty with a body? I mean she is so hot she could make a pool go on fire!”

“Well that may be true but her products and her technique for selling them left much to be desired.”

“Well its those product of hers that keep me alive! Yesterday I tried this new cookie called "Sugar kiss" and I'm telling you, that woman can make a grown man cry with them! They are extremely delicious! I wished she could make this cookie called "Wild Sex In The Back Seat Of A Car", I would sure try that…..with her.”

Yoongi looked at his best friend with a death glare and  Hoseok smiled innocently “Sorry dude, I forgot I was walking on your turf.”

“What in blazes are you talking about?”

“Dude, you gave me the death glare! That means you are interested in her. Plus you haven't stopped looking at her since she went into the tent. For one thing I'm happy that you finally are into a girl that isn't a total stuck up. Bad thing for me is now don't have a chance. Maybe she has a sister.”

“Ok I am NOT interested in _____! First of all, if I'm looking at her it’s because I'm trying to see what she is going to do next because she always wants to irritate me by doing something out of the ordinary. Second of all, I am not always interested in stuck up girls. And third of all, if you want her you can have her.”

“If you continue to say that I'm going to end up believing that, and just so you know you do date uptight, stuck up women, all the time! Every girl is a copy of the other! Boring to hell too. But ___ is not boring in any way! Good thing you don't like her cause I've been hitting on her all week and she has been sweet but just that, sweet. Could be she has a boyfriend.”

Yoongi got relieved that you didn't pay attention to Hoseok’s advances but suddenly felt frustrated that there was a possibility you could have a formal boyfriend. Wait, why the hell was he worrying? He didn't care for you personal life!

“Come on, lets get your future read! Maybe we can find out if there is a woman that can shake your chubber! I bet it’s ___!”

“Why don't you go and see about yourself” Yoongi said “You need a woman more than me.”

“I already got a date with a girl I met in the supermarket, her name is Momo and she was talking about Broccoli when I met her.”

“But you hate Broccoli.”

“Well for that babe, it was well worth it. You should’ve seen her body to know what I'm talking about. Besides you need a spin around the town, meet a girl that you can have a good time. When is the last time you had sex?”

“I am not telling you” the last thing Yoongi needed was his best friend laughing at his dried up sex life. He would die of laughter if he knew.

“Yoongi, either you tell me, or I'm going directly to _____ and telling her that you want her.”

“God you're like the nosy brother I never wanted! Two months! There! Happy?”

Hoseok’s jaw dropped “ DUDE! Your dick is going to fall off if you don't do something about it!”

“Oh brother! Do you always think about this or is the Valentines Day spirit swelling you mind and apparently your dick too?” Yoongi rolled his eyes “I am going to see if I can get a girl if it will get you off my case!”

“Ok, but let's have fun tonight, go see the medium, she can tell you about your love life! Maybe ____ can get it to be more fun.”

“NOT HER!”

“Ok but at least she can give us a clue to whom” Hoseok patted him on his shoulder and got him close to the tent and they saw you coming out. You looked at Yoongi and then quickly turned to Hoseok, almost avoiding his gaze.

“Hobi, I'm glad to see you” you smiled tenderl “Are you missing my double coffee with no foam?”

“That and your cookies” he smiled back and winked “they are the best things I have ever had in my life!”

You smiled back and Yoongi could have sworn that seemed to be the most seductive thing. Damn! He loved contagious smiles and particularly this woman had the sexiest contagious smile ever! Curse his bad luck!

“Min Yoongi” You said in a serious voice.

“_____” he greeted.

Seeing Hoseok and Yoongi was an odd match considering the fact that they looked like polar opposites, “Are you acquainted?”

“Yes we are very good friends since high school”  the manager said all serious.

“Now that's something you don't see every day” You laughed.

“It seems you are surprised to see that I have friends.”

“Well at least one who is very charming.”

“I can be charming. I am just not that patient with people who live to irritate me daily with their over the top decorations to a shop that leaves very little to the imagination. The mannequins I saw in the morning on the front window of your shop were completely naked!”

“I'm sorry but my mannequins are completely dressed” you began to protest.

“In an evident way like a slap.”

“Is that an invitation?” your eyes sparked with a flame of anger.

“I didn't know you had violent tendencies.”

“Only with people who irritate me and put me nervous”

“Speaking of nervous” he pointed with her index finger “your front window is….”

“Provocative? Interesting?”

“ Excessive!”

“Thanks for the compliment!” You smiled.

“THAT WAS NOT A COMPLIMENT!”

“Coming from you, the fact that you actually noticed the front window is a compliment in itself. Tell me did you really just look at it or were you so wrapped in yourself that when you were looking at your reflection you accidentally saw it?”

“Evidently our last conversation about the decoration was but alas forgotten” he rolled his eyes, his signature move, “Seeing as how you have such a short attention spam”

“Don't you dare insult my intellect! I know what you said! I know what I said! Don't come up to me with those airs of superiority and insult me.”

“Well if you can remember then you must have not heard”.

“I know how to hear and to remember, but I also know this exquisite word called "ignore" if you want I can get a dictionary for you so you can look it up! Oh and FYI you wouldn't know creativity even if it bit you up the ass!”

“You obviously don't know me”

“Oh I know you very well, Mr. Informal Clone!” you looked at him up and down with certain air of despise.

“I have that feeling too, Miss. I dont ever listen to my boss!” he said ironically, “how lucky for both of us.”

“I wouldn't employ that term in this case. But I see we finally agree in something!”

“I think it is the first time” he smirked.

“Maybe you should come by my shop, I just made a new cookie in the shape of a pair of lips” you smiled before adding “It's called, "BITE ME!"

Hoseok tried his hardest not to laugh but obviously it was in vain. Yoongi turned around and glared at his friend. Damn, he had forgotten about his friend and of Madame Karma as well, who was standing behind you. He scoweled at you and went to Madame Karma

“No thanks, I'm not in the mood for coffee. But maybe you can give hobi, seeing how he LOOOVES your coffee and cookies” then he turned to Madame Karma and shook her hand “Madame Karma I am….”

“Min Yoongi” she whispered amazed.

“Yes, well I came to see if you can tell me my future” he said without showing surprise as to how she could know his name.

“Your aura is bright…. exceptionally bright” Madame Karma said as she saw Yoongi's hand then she turned to you and made a movement with her head “____, dear, please leave. Mr. Min and I have a lot to talk about.”

Yoongi couldn't think of anything he had to ask Madame Karma in particular. He was guessing that she would read some plain old cards say some mumbo jumbo and he would just nod. Then he would thank her and leave. How bad could it be?

[bittysvalentines]

Something Sweet

From: @ackermom

To: @stickinotes

Notes: Happy Valentine's Day to stickinotes! There's a little bit of everything you requested in here, so I hope you enjoy it. Summary: Jack and Bitty have their first breakfast together as official boyfriends.

August 2015

Boyfriend.

Jack had said boyfriend, and the tiny plastic figure he'd pressed into Bitty's hands had been smiling just as sweetly, just as nervously, as he'd waited for Bitty's answer. There'd been sweat and tears and one very long hug, spun around the kitchen, before Bitty had been carried off to the living room to study his flashcards while they waited for the cassoulet to finish.

The studying hadn't lasted very long. Jack's first mistake was cozying them up on the couch, where Bitty could lean back into the pillows and press his feet against Jack's thighs, serving as the perfect distraction. They barely made it five minutes before Bitty was completely in his lap, intent on a very heavy make-out session with his boyfriend.

The oven timer had gone off, they'd eaten dinner together standing at the kitchen counter, brushing against each other as they ate straight from the pan, and then it had been off to bed after a long day. Bitty fell asleep with one of Jack's hands in his hair, the soft white lights of the bedroom slowly fading from his view. He drifted off into warmth.

Not a bad way to end his first night at Jack's new place, and a wonderful way to wake up in the morning between the arms of his official boyfriend.

Bitty stirs first, coming to under the glowing beams of a late summer sunrise. He wakes gently, and when he shifts between the sheets, yawning as he rubs a hand of his eyes, he feels the weight of Jack's arm draped over his stomach. He blinks into the soft light; Jack's eyes flutter when Bitty traces a finger through his hair, but otherwise, he remains dozing, his breaths soft and slow. Bitty lies still for another moment. Jack had always woken first in Madison, so to watch him sleep is a new, precious thing for Bitty. And it's absolutely adorable.

He gets out of bed, finally (and maybe it's only after taking a dozen pictures of Jack's sleeping face, but how could he resist?), and he pads around the bedroom in his socks, looking for something to snuggle up in. It may still be summer, but Jack insists on sleeping in the freezing cold; Bitty is damn near shivering under the high-speed whir over the ceiling fan. It's alright though- he finds a brand new Falconers sweatshirt hung at the end of the bed, and the bottom hem clings perfectly to Bitty's thighs. He tucks the long sleeves up past his wrists, pauses to snap a few sultry bedhead selfies, and heads to the kitchen.

"Coffee," Bitty murmurs as he opens the fridge to peruse.

He'll have to remind himself again in a few minutes, when he's been distracted by whatever sizzling, toasting breakfast he's about to embark on. He prefers his coffee sweet, with a healthy dose of whipped cream, but he knows, after some slow mornings at the Haus, that he won't get to see that loving light in Jack's eyes until at least one sip of caffeine.

It's funny, the things he notices now that they're together: the way Jack always smiles before he kisses Bitty, the way their bodies fit perfectly into an embrace, the way they can talk without saying a word. The way Jack looks at Bitty when he's rambling. The way Jack stocked his pantry for Bitty's arrival, including the expensive red mixer that Bitty gets the honors of unboxing today.

And, of course, the tiny grumpy lines that tug at Jack's mouth when he doesn't have coffee in the morning.

His choices in the fridge aren't overly abundant (that's another thing: the way Jack eats eggs like his life depends on it), but there's certainly enough to make a hearty breakfast for the two of them. Bitty can't help but hum as he sets about the preparation, whisking eggs in a bowl on his hip and waiting for the skillet to heat. He has another pan out before he glances back to the bacon, thinks for a second, and changes his mind. Oven on, baking rack laid with thick slices, aluminum lining the pan to catch the grease. It's less fatty.

He's about to start on the omelets when he remembers.

"Coffee," Bitty exclaims to himself.

The bacon has to cook for a bit anyways, and he doesn't want anything getting cold; he sets the egg mixture aside and begins on the coffee. It's a complicated process- to him, at least, because the most complex the Haus coffee ever got was when Lardo introduced the reusable K-cup. He puts the water on, then sets about discovering the secrets of the pour over. There's a funnel thing, and the filter goes in there, and he thinks Jack said something about using the espresso because it'll be too weak otherwise-

Bitty yelps when two-hundred pounds of muscle suddenly wrap around him.

"Sorry," Jack says, pulling back.

Bitty turns around, settling his hands on Jack's warm arms, and huffs. "That was sneaky."

"I thought you heard me. I said your name."

"Oh, Lord," Bitty sighs, smiling. "I'm trying to figure out your coffee thing."

He tries not to blush when Jack chuckles and bends to kiss him. He fails.

"It's not that hard," Jack says as he pulls away, one arm curling around Bitty's shoulders. "You just pour water into the thing."

"I got that part," Bitty exclaims. He gives Jack's arm a playful hit as he turns to finish making the coffee. "I just couldn't remember if I'm supposed to use espresso or regular ground coffee."

He feels Jack's weight press up against him, Jack's chin settling on top of his head.

"Either is fine," Jack murmurs. "But I like the espresso."

"Espresso it is, then," Bitty says, reaching for the coffee tin. "Jaack."

"Hm?"

"You have to let go if you want coffee."

"Hm."

That's less of an argument than Bitty expected, but that must be because Jack doesn't leave after he lets go. He lingers behind Bitty, hands trailing over his neck and shoulders, sending chills down Bitty's arms as he spoons the coffee grounds into the filter. Bitty smirks to himself, laughing at Jack's insatiable sense of touch, but he says nothing and just pours the water.

"There," he says when he's finished, stepping back. "You can have the first cup while I finish the eggs. Do you want anything in your omelet?"

Jack drags his coffee cup across the counter to follow Bitty to the stove, one arm still firmly attached to him. "I think I have some mushrooms."

"And there should be some onion leftover from last night," Bitty says. He pours the egg mixture into the pan, keeping a careful eye to make sure nothing spills over. He sets the bowl aside, readies his spatula, and glances up at Jack with a smile. "Can you get them, sweetheart?"

He bends down to kiss Bitty's forehead, fingers tingling along Bitty's back, before he finally detaches himself and heads to the fridge. His touch leaves an impression on Bitty's skin that lingers with warmth as Bitty works on the omelets, humming. Jack grabs the fixings, stops to reset the coffee to brew a cup for Bitty, and returns just in time.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Bitty coos.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Smells amazing."

Bitty can't help but giggle. "You're gonna start calling me sweetheart?"

"Maybe I will," Jack says, wrapping his arms over Bitty's shoulders again. "You're my boyfriend now."

"If you want to make me blush, you can just call me that."

"Just boyfriend, eh? What about darling? Or sugar?"

"Jack," Bitty exclaims through a laugh as Jack presses a kiss behind his ear. "Even I don't call you sugar."

Jack straightens up and reaches for his coffee cup. "Maybe you should start."

Bitty holds back another laugh and folds the omelet. "Okay, sugar. Now move your big butt so I can check on the bacon."

"Mm, that's what I'm smelling," Jack says, stepping aside. He leans against the counter and sips on his coffee as Bitty shuffles backwards and bends over to peer inside the oven. "Is that my sweatshirt?"

Bitty glances down at himself. "Oh, is that okay? I was feeling a little chilly when I got up this morning, so I just thought I could throw this on."

"That's fine," Jack says. His eyes travel down as Bitty closes the oven door and stands upright. "Makes you look like you're not wearing pants."

He gives an oof in mock pain when Bitty slaps his stomach with the oven mitt.

"My eyes are up here, Mr. Zimmermann."

"I'm not looking for your eyes, darlin'."

"Jack!" Bitty exclaims through a burst of laughter as Jack presses him against the stove, one hand tickling at the bottom hem of the sweatshirt. A shiver runs along Bitty's thighs. "I'm going to burn your omelet if you don't stop messing around!"

"I'll still eat it," Jack says. He grins and settles back against the counter.

"I know you will," Bitty sighs with a side-eye.

"I'll eat anything you cook, Bits."

Bitty smiles at him. "I know you will."

He finishes the omelets as Jack fixes Bitty's coffee for him, stirring in the milk and sugar (two heaping spoonfuls) while they wait for the last few seconds on the oven timer to run out. The bacon comes out, perfectly sizzling on the rack; the smell is mouthwatering, and Bitty's stomach growls, reminding him just how hungry he is. They ate dinner late last night, but then they'd stayed up for a while, talking: elbow to elbow washing dishes, side by side brushing their teeth, and then snuggled up together in bed, letting the warm lamplight fall over them as they finished their midnight whispers.

They sit catty-corner at the table, their feet knocking together underneath. Jack's legs are cold, but Bitty warms himself quickly, a hot mug of sweet coffee cupped between his hands, which are hidden by the long sleeves of Jack's sweatshirt. He has his own. Jack brought it to him in Madison and he found excuses to wear it down there, even during the sweltering heat of July. But this one's nicer.

"You're keeping that sweatshirt, aren't you?" Jack asks when their plates are empty.

Bitty hums to himself. "No, I'm stealing it."

"Ha, alright."

"You'll have to wear it for me, before I leave. So it can smell like you."

"Of course," Jack says, smiling across the table at him. His eyes are full of love, warmed by the coffee, the breakfast, and the two of them sitting there together. "That's what boyfriends are for."

[iminyourhandskara]

A Second Schott At Love - Chapter 2.

It seemed like Friday night couldn’t come soon enough, for both the couples: Kara and Mon-El had a really good feeling about it, while Eve and Winn were a bundle of nerves. Winn kept texting his friend asking for an opinion on which flannel shirt he was supposed to wear, meanwhile Eve begged Kara to go shopping with her, she wanted to look her best, even if Kara repeatedly told her that her usual style would be perfect for the date, she didn’t need new clothes. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me anything about Winn?” “I want you to find out yourself at the date, directly. And I don’t want you to run out of questions, you’re welcome.” “I hate you for being so right.” Kara smirked, as they walked to another shop, looking for a blouse that matched her pencil skirt: Eve was lucky that her style was so similar to her friend’s.

“Can you tell me more about Eve?” “I really don’t know what to tell you, since our only date was ruined by yours truly by talking only about..” “About?” “Uhm, listen, I need to tell you something, but promise me you won’t tell anyone yet.” “Of course, I promise.” “Well..Kara and I are dating.” Winn gasped, “Since when?” “Valentine’s day, more or less.” “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” “What?” Mon-El cringed thinking he had hurt his friend’s feelings in some way. “I owe Alex 30 dollars, I told her you would get together after Valentine’s day. She bet that you would get together on Valentine’s day..” “Okay, wow. But Kara hasn’t told Alex yet, so you can spend that money on the date first.” “So..you blew your date with Eve because you couldn’t stop talking about Kara? How does she not hate you both?” Mon-El chuckled, “I don’t know, but that surely means that she has a big heart and doesn’t hold grudges, she’s very supportive.” “I feel a little less nervous now..If she met the me from last year, things would’ve gone in the exact same way. Don’t worry, I’m over her! Anyway, I’m really happy for you both, truly.” Winn put his hands on Mon-El’s shoulders, then he hugged him. “Thank you so much, I hope you find the same happiness I have found with Kara.” “Fingers crossed.”

 It was finally time to go at the restaurant, Kara and Mike planned to go a little earlier than Winn and Eve, but obviously, they couldn’t let themselves be recognized by their friends: they “borrowed” a short red wig and fake moustaches from the DEO and prayed they looked somewhat believable. Winn arrived perfectly on time, he seemed pretty nervous for this date; Eve got there just a few minutes later: “It’s showtime!” Kara whispered to Mon-El from the nearby table.

“Hey, I’m Winn, you must be Eve, right?” ‘Why am I even saying this, I know it is her!’ he thought. ”It’s great to finally meet you, Winn.” They shook hands. “You look really, really pretty.” “Oh, thank you so much.” Eve blushed so hard, as if she’d never gotten a compliment before. Winn walked her to the table and moved her chair to let her sit, “Thank you.”

“So, have you ever eaten here?” “No, no, it’s my first time here..in a place like this.” Winn confessed. “I read the food is delicious: you know, I always try to check reviews before I go somewhere new, not that I don’t trust Kara—“ “No, I totally get it, I do the same thing with books and movies.” “That’s nice, I really enjoy books and movies as well. Especially books, since I also studied literature.” “Right! I forgot you attended Yale, that must’ve been incredible.” Winn’s eyes lit up, he could feel the conversation flowing naturally.

The waiter arrived to take their ordination, but then they picked up right where they left. “Yeah, I’ll admit that was a really challenging part of my life, but I’m really proud of all the amazing things I’ve learned. What about you?”

“Eh, I didn’t have the best family growing up, I was pretty lonely until I moved here from Newark, five years ago. Then you know, I met Kara and James and.. CatCo was pretty fun: I’ve had great moments there, even if Cat didn’t get my name right once.” “Typical Cat Grant.” They laughed together. “I came up with the theory that if she gets a name wrong, it means she actually likes you: she always knew my name perfectly, but she always called Kara “Keira”, and you?..” “Will, I think?” “..so she definitely liked you more than she ever liked me.” “That actually makes a lot of sense, wow. You’re smart. Also in a non-academic-cool kind of way.” “Well..” She tucked a hair strand behind her ear.

Besides them, Kara smiled widely with pride at the match she’d created, “I think they’re getting along really well..” “I think so too..but we’ve finished eating like five minutes ago, shouldn’t we go?” Mon-El feared being caught. “Ugh, just ten more minutes!” “Okay..okay.”

 “You mentioned books earlier, and I’m really dying to ask you a question, it’s kind of a deal breaker for me.” “Shoot.” The blonde was curious. “You’ve read Harry Potter, right?” “Oh my gosh, of course! That’s actually where I got this passion for literature.” Winn made an exaggerated sigh of relief, “Good, that’s good. What’s your house?” “If it wasn’t already obvious, Hufflepuff, but with a hint of Slytherin. You?” “Gryffindor! Should I be worried about that ‘hint’?” Eve chuckled, “I don’t think so, but let’s just say you don’t want an enemy like me.” She raised her eyebrow and smirked. “Do you have a favorite Disney movie?” She continued changing the subject. “That’s a terribly difficult question to answer, I think I’m gonna say Aladdin, though.” “Why?” “I don’t know, orphan that has nothing and then has everything, great friendship and love stories, amazing songs I’ll admit I still know by heart..” “Oh, don’t worry I know every Disney song by heart. Everyone.” “And what’s yours?” “Beauty and the Beast: I’ve always seen a little bit of myself in Belle, and God knows how many Gastons I have met in my life..I was also in love with her yellow dress. I hate to say it but I was kinda disappointed by the live action trailer. I still love Emma Watson, though.” “Yeah, same for me..What was your first job? Did Disney or Harry Potter influence you there as well?” “Ha, not at all. I don’t know if you’d count it as a job, but I got my first money from my roommate in college.” “What? How?” “Let’s just say, she’s made a bunch of bad decisions in high school and she’d pay me to cover her Ryan Seacrest tattoo when she had to go out with her boyfriend.” “Wow, and I thought that my Hot Topic experience was odd..” “Yeah, my experience is definitely unique..I really like your shirt, by the way: blue is one of my favorite colors.” “Seriously? Well then, I’m your perfect guy, since 90% of my wardrobe is blue.” Winn didn’t even have the time to cringe at what he said because their food had arrived, so they started eating in a comfortable silence and Eve didn’t seem shaken by his sentence: truth was, Winn and Eve had a lot of spontaneous chemistry and their date was slowly climbing up to be on top of their charts.

“Do you want a dessert?” He asked shyly. “I have a better idea..the food here is delicious, but the portions are kind of..” “Small? Agreed.” “Oh, good. I thought you were gonna think I was an insatiable monster.” Winn chuckled at Eve, “Not at all! So what’s your idea?” “Big Belly Burger?” “Yes, yes-yes-yes-yes! I haven’t been there in a while, actually. Let me go pay.” “No, we can split.” “Nuh-uh. But you can buy me chicken nuggets later.” “..Okay, deal.” Eve finally gave up with a sweet smile.

 “Okay, I think we can go now, they’re leaving too.” Kara whispered to Mon-El, “I think they had a nice time.” He replied. “Yeah, I think so too: I can’t wait to hear their point of view tomorrow.” She let out a little squeal and Mon-El shook his head at the adorable dork that he was lucky enough to call girlfriend. A few minutes apart, the two couples left the restaurant; one was headed home, the other wasn’t.

Winn sneaked a few looks at Eve as she looked outside her window, observing the life around them, the atmosphere of a Friday night in National City: she was really beautiful, her smile was so contagious and she made him feel good like he hadn’t felt in years. Suddenly, Eve turned around and caught Winn staring, but he immediately looked back at the road, embarrassed, though it was too late now to be unnoticed: however, she didn’t seem to mind at all, on the contrary, she smiled at him before looking outside again. Now, they knew they both felt happy with how the night was proceeding; “we’re here.” Winn parked in the almost deserted lot: they were lucky that the Big Belly Burger was open 24 hours. They took two burgers, fries, the aforementioned chicken nuggets and two milkshakes: apparently, they both loved junk food and they had a lot of appetite, even if it was almost midnight. Eve talked a lot, yet he loved listening to her opinions and thoughts on a lot of things, Winn was absolutely fascinated by this tiny but mighty woman. On the other hand, he made her laugh a lot: she felt like she didn’t have to keep her guards up and she was free to be herself, it was like she had known Winn for years and truthfully, Eve already cared about him very much.

“I have to say it, this has been the most fun date I have ever had, so..thank you.” Winn confessed, as he finished his chocolate milkshake. “Definitely. Even if my stomach will probably hate me for all this food, I had a great night with you.” “I gotta thank Kara and Mike, because they totally made up for the crappy date I’ve had the past weekend.” “Agreed.” All the bad experiences they’ve had in the past were just a blur now, it was just them now, sharing a happy moment that would’ve hopefully turned into something more. “I almost forgot to ask..can I have your number? I..I would really like to hang out again.” He scratched his cheek. “I was just gonna say the same thing, of course.” As Eve typed her number on his phone, Winn had a really wide grin on his face, but he didn’t care at all: he did the same thing and then they walked outside the door.

They almost dreaded the ride back to her place, they didn’t want this night to end, even if it was just the beginning: he turned on the radio, at a low volume, but both of them found themselves humming to the songs. “That’s my building.” Eve pointed, Winn stopped the engine. “Again, thank you so much for everything. You’re a really great guy, Winn.” He wasn’t used to compliments, so he remained speechless for a couple of seconds: “Thank you, Eve. By the way, you’re incredible, I don’t know how anyone could ever screw up a date with you.” There it was, another joke that wasn’t even a joke but made her laugh, always so effortlessly: Eve grabbed Winn’s coat and pulled him to her, catching him by surprise, but in a positive way; he gladly returned the kiss. “Wow.” Was the only thing he managed to say after that. “I..I couldn’t help it.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, before opening the door, “goodnight Winn.” “Goodnight Eve.”

He watched her walk away, and still dumb folded Winn muttered to himself. “Damn, that girl really knows how to make an exit.”

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @lover95!

This is my Sterek Secret Santa gift for lover95! I hope you enjoy your fluffy soulmark AU! I certainly enjoyed writing it!

Read om AO3

******

you left a mark on me

Stiles is a klutz.

That much is well known.

What is less known is how only about half of the scrapes he gets into are his own fault- if that! Because in this universe you are lucky enough to share every injury with your soulmate - even if you don’t yet know the bastard.

With the amount of injuries they amass in a week, Stiles’ soulmate is either an even worse klutz than Stiles himself, part of a circus troupe (probably the always stumbling and falling clown), or a spy - James Bond style. Stiles would of course prefer the last option - purely because of the coolness factor. Who could resist James Bond?

When Scott gets bitten, a whole new world of options suddenly opens up. In Stiles’ newfound experience, supernatural beings spend most of their time injured in some way or form. To add insult to injury- literally!- they barely even notice it most of the time!

It would be just like Stiles’ luck: having a werewolf for a soulmate who spends most of their time getting injured - and probably doesn’t care to think about how that affects him. Ouch.

~*~

Soulmates aren't a very well studied phenomenon.

It is not known what percentage of the population has a soulmate, mostly because most people don't even know it themselves. You don't get a neat tattoo of your soulmate’s name or of the first words they say to you or anything helpful like that. Stiles wishes he lived in a universe like that. Instead he gets soulmarks - literal marks appearing on his body, reflecting the injuries of his soulmate.

Soulmarks can be anything - from light bruises to red scratches to even the occasional sprain. There's some stories about people breaking bones, but Stiles doesn't give any credit to those - he certainly hasn't ever broken a bone because of his soulmate and he has carried just about every other soulmark known to mankind on his skin.

Hence the thinking his soulmate was a super spy before realising werewolves were a thing.

Thankfully soulmarks are usually less severe than the original injury and never fatal. So instead of the deep scratch your soulmate has, you might end up with a heavy bruise, or a sprain instead of a break. But that right there is also why most people never even realise they have a soulmate. How many bruises do you discover on the regular without remembering how you got them? How would you ever know which came from knocking into the corner of the kitchen cabinet and which appeared because your soulmate accidentally dropped a hammer on their foot?

You see, most people don't suffer from severe injuries on the regular, and thus neither do their soulmates. Unless your soulmate is a werewolf of course.

It took cataloguing all of his cuts and bruises very meticulously, while also keeping track of which scrapes his friends got into, but the evidence finally seems to suggest that his soulmate is one of the pack. That's as far as Stiles has gotten, though. The only one he can rule out for sure is Scott and thank God for that. Stiles loves that guy like a brother, but that's just it - like a brother . Allison can keep his dick, as far as Stiles is concerned.

Everyone else is fair game though, even Jackson, perish the thought. He has mellowed out somewhat after his stint in good, old England, but still, the universe would have a very sick sense of humour if Stiles’ soulmate turned out to be Jackson Whittemore of all people. Stiles wouldn't mind any of the other betas, but really, there's only one member of the pack he is truly interested in.

That's the crux of the matter with soulmarks: How do you know you’ll even like your soulmate? What if you don’t? What if you love someone and they aren’t your soulmate? Or you aren’t theirs?

All of those are reasons why a lot of people do not actively attempt to search out their soulmate.

There are of course those who do - ritualistic woundings are a thing that unfortunately still exists, and pricking the fingers is a wedding rite that is occasionally celebrated, too. Hollywood loves the soulmate trope of course, soulmarks front and centre on posters even if they barely play a role in the film. Whole rows of bookstores are filled with soulmark romances - from Ancient Rome to outer space and everywhere in between. The question whether Cleopatra’s true soulmate was Caesar or Antony is a hotly debated one in certain circles.

Stiles himself has always dreamed of finding his soulmate.

His parents had been soulmates, though they only realised it years after being married, when his dad got shot on patrol by the only bank robber Beacon Hills has ever gotten and his mum bruised like a peach in the same place his shot wound was. Stiles has gotten his delicate complexion from her.

And the hopelessly romantic streak apparently.

His mum had loved that his dad and her had turned out to be soulmates after they married; it made her believe in fate she used to say and that “you'll find your soulmate, too, kochanie , and they’ll leave an even deeper mark on your heart than on your skin. Just be patient, baby.”

Well, Stiles has certainly got the marks on his skin, and someone has also left his mark on Stiles’ heart, but he's not sure those belong together. So, rather than risking learning an answer he doesn't want to know, he stops searching for an answer all together.

He'd like to imagine that his mother would approve of him being patient and waiting for whatever will happen. She'd probably just scold him for giving up, though.

The thought is not enough to make him risk his heart however.

~*~

Over the last few years, a tradition of pre-Christmas pack dinner has developed. Christmas is spent with their respective families, but the last weekend before Christmas is for the pack. It’s done potluck style - everyone likes different things, so instead of trying to find a compromise everyone’s happy with, they had decided to just let everyone bring what they want to eat. Stiles has learned to make an extra large batch of his pierogi , because that is eaten by just about everyone, whereas Lydia’s kale salad goes largely ignored by everybody but her and Jackson (the poor guy really is whipped).

Another tradition that has grown out of that one is the decorating the day before.

That’s not a pack tradition, though. This one is just for Derek and Stiles.

Because while pack dinner happens at Derek’s loft, it has long been decided that Derek is not to be trusted to decorate appropriately for the occasion. So Stiles always comes over the day before to help, and afterwards they order in and watch at least one Christmas classic. In a way it feels like their own little Christmas tradition, and Stiles has grown very protective of it. It’s when they reminisce about the past year and plan ahead for the next. Derek told Stiles about his plans to go back to uni while hanging up tinsel and Stiles spoke about his fear of losing his dad while spraying fake frostwork onto Derek’s windows. It’s as if no secrets exist between them when hanging up Christmas decorations - none except for Stiles’ soulmarks. Those he hasn’t dared to bring up yet.

This year’s decoration theme is definitely forest-y - gnarly roots as candle holders, cones and acorns instead of golden stars and red baubles, and even some mistletoe. According to Derek, Laura hated the artificiality of most Christmas decorations, all those garish colours, plastic-y scents, and the glitter that sticks to everything until Valentine’s Day comes around and covers you in more glitter, just this time in pink. Apparently the Hale siblings used to take turns decorating the house for Christmas, and when it was up to Laura, she did her best to bring the forest into the house.

“When I saw that mistletoe in the Reserve on my last patrol, it made me think of her, and how much she loved hanging them over every single door frame in the house. We never got anything done when Laura had decorated for Christmas because everyone was too busy kissing everyone else,” Derek says, a small smile on his face while his eyes show that he is far away, lost in memories. “I thought it would be nice to remember her through this - decorating like her,” he adds, and then asks, suddenly sounding very unsure: “Unless you think the pack would prefer more traditional decorations?”

“There’s nothing more traditional than mistletoe,” Stiles replies firmly. “And if Lydia says anything, I’ll remind her of the year she thought burnt orange and dark teal would make good Christmas tree colours.”

Derek smiles softly in response, and Stiles would have liked to blame the answering flutter of his heart on heart burn but he has long ago learned that lying to himself is of no use.

So, rustic decorations it is, which brings Stiles to the predicament he is currently in: balancing precariously on one of Derek’s bar stools, mistletoe in one hand, hammer in another and four, no three nails in his mouth. One nail just slipped out and possibly scratched one of his toes on its way down. Stiles doesn’t trust his balance enough to dare look down to check for blood. He’d call for help, but he’s honestly afraid of accidentally swallowing a nail if he opens his mouth. His genius idea to nail the mistletoe to the ceiling in the middle of the room, so that everyone ends up stuck under it again and again suddenly doesn’t look so genius any more.

Carefully, Stiles switches the mistletoe to his other hand, and takes one of the nails out of his mouth with his now free hand. So far, so good, but when he attempts to hammer the nail into the ceiling, he slips, and loses his balance.

Strangely enough, his last thought as he falls goes out to his soulmate. Maybe he’ll feel that.

But instead of hitting the hard floor, Stiles is caught in two strong arms, which break his fall. Somehow he even manages to spit out the remaining nails instead of swallowing them and killing himself that way. When he looks up, Derek’s face is dark with anger and white with fear.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he scolds and shakes Stiles slightly. “You could have broken your neck!”

“You caught me, though, didn’t you?” Stiles says, smiling angelically and tries not to feel disappointed that he didn’t at least break a leg or something. Surely his soulmate would have noticed that .

“And I’m starting to regret it already,” Derek snarks back, but his hands are gentle as he makes sure Stiles has regained his balance enough to stand on his own two feet again.

“Liar, you love me,” Stiles singsongs, and tries to ignore how much he wishes that were true.

“I hate you,” Derek throws back at him over his shoulder, having already turned away, so that Stiles can’t even see his face. And he doesn’t have a built in lie-detector.

“Hate to love me, you mean,” he still needles, and follows Derek, drawn like the moth to the flame, as always.

“If you say so,” Derek replies noncommittally, and Stiles forgets the snarky retort he’d had on the tip of his tongue, because he had been too focused on Derek to look where he was going and had run into the coffee table. Hard. Ouch.

In front of him, Derek stumbles.

Stiles’ shin throbs, and his thoughts are running wild.

He knocks his shin against the coffee table once more, and Derek stumbles again.

Elated, Stiles keeps kicking the coffee table, until Derek finally gets a clue and turns around. His eyes are wide and the look on his face is one of pure astonishment and disbelief. Stiles on the other hand can’t feel his cheeks anymore, he’s grinning so widely. Derek’s gaze caught in his, he deliberately kicks out one last time and his heart jumps when Derek flinches in reaction.

“I was hoping it was you,” he breathes, but at the same time, Derek says: “I was hoping it wasn’t you.”

“What?”

Stiles’ stomach is suddenly a ball of ice, all the elation he was just experiencing gone like a tendril of smoke in the wind. But Derek shakes his head hurriedly and steps closer, hand stretched out towards Stiles.

“No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just - I’m so broken, literally , and I couldn’t bear the thought of having inadvertently hurt you. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do. I know I don’t experience soulmarks the way you do, but the pain I must have caused you!”

The ice in Stiles melts as suddenly as it appeared and he steps forward in turn to take Derek’s still outstretched hand.

“I was hoping it was you,” he says, but then amends: “Well, actually, I was hoping it was James Bond for quite a few years. But once I knew werewolves were a thing, it was always you I was hoping for. I couldn’t know for sure, and I was too scared to ask, so I just kept quietly hoping. My soulmarks didn’t cause me pain so much as they gave me hope!”

Derek is obviously still sceptical and not convinced yet, so Stiles decides he has to haul out the big guns. Pun intended. He squeezes Derek’s hand in reassurance before dropping it and whipping off his shirt. Werewolves run hotter than humans, so the air in Derek’s loft is cool on his skin. The urge to cross his arms in front of his chest to hide himself is almost overwhelming, but the whole point of this exercise is to bare himself to Derek. So he gathers his courage, pulls his shoulders back and stands proud and tall.

“See this?” Stiles points towards a white scar on his right side. “That’s from when Scott fell off his chair in maths and I let myself fall off my chair, too, so he’d not be so embarrassed. Only I managed to cut myself somehow and bled all over everything, so then he was embarrassed for us both and worrying about me to boot.” He points towards a greenish bruise on his hip next. “I got that when I ran into our dining table earlier in the week. No particular reason why, I’m just spatially challenged apparently. I’ve got countless more marks like these, some visible scars, some fading bruises, most gone forever. I only remember the very visible ones, like that scar, or the most recent ones, like that bruise.”

He swallows and then turns half away from Derek.

“See my right shoulder blade? You see nothing, right? That’s where my first soulmark appeared. Or well, it probably wasn’t actually the first one ever, but it was the first one I noticed and recognised. It was just a small scratch with a pale purplish bruise. But I kept looking at it in the mirror because I was so happy. It was proof I had a soulmate, someone just for me. Someone who’d love me for who I am, because, not in spite of. That mark is long gone, but I’ll never forget about it. I’ll never forget about any of them. Like here,” he says, turning back around again, drawing a finger down his stomach and then repeating the motion on Derek’s clothed stomach.

“That’s when I knew for sure it was someone from the pack. That’s when I really started hoping it was you. But you all heal too quickly for me to properly catalogue your injuries, so I couldn’t ever be quite sure. Until now.”

Derek doesn’t immediately say anything. Instead he gently traces the path Stiles’ finger took, stroking across the skin on Stiles’ stomach, which breaks out into goosebumps at the touch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, voice barely above a whisper and Stiles admits: “You probably will. But I’ll heal - not as quickly as you and the rest of the puppies, but I’ll heal. And I’ll treasure my soulmarks even more than before. But you can always mark me up in more pleasurable ways, too,” he adds with a wink and tilts his head to the side, hopefully revealing his throat in a tantalising way.

“You are the worst,” Derek replies, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips that lets Stiles repeat, this time with conviction: “And still you love me.”

“I do,” Derek acknowledges, and then curves his hand around Stiles’ shoulder, palm touching where his first soulmark appeared. The touch seems to shoot sparks through Stiles’ body, electrifying him. Gentle pressure on his back encourages him to lean in and then Derek’s other hand comes up to guide his chin up, so their lips can meet in a soft, careful kiss.

Before his attention is entirely consumed by Derek and his kisses Stiles thinks: “I didn’t even need the mistletoe.”