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cockasinthebird · 3 years

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There’s a lot of things that Billy Hargrove loves about 4th of July. How loud the fireworks are, the chance to set something on fire without reprimand, barbecue food that reminds him of beach parties back home, beer just tastes better for some reason, the summer heat, and how scantily clad everyone is.

Guys with their exposed muscles, girls in their tiny bikinis.

Billy walks through the far too inebriated crowd spread out across the quarry, a beer in hand that is quickly warming up in his sweaty grasp, seemingly aimless in the way he looks at everyone who greets him all excited, then clearly disappointed that he didn’t stop to talk past pleasantries.

No, Billy is on a hunt; a hungry wolf looking for one specific lamb, no other temptations can match the urge for one pretty boy’s attention.

And he finds Steve Harrington, dressed in shorts too revealing and a top that ends just by his navel, leaning against the hood of someone’s car. Three girls in short skirts and bikini tops standing awfully close to him, listening intently - or at least pretending to - as he smiles all friendly and gestures with his red plastic cup to really emphasise whatever he’s saying.

Envy isn’t a thing Billy experiences, nah, definitely not, he reminds himself as he takes too big a gulp of his beer, yet it stirs sourly in the sudden pit of his stomach. They’re not dating, so he has no right to feel jealous about anything going on in front of him currently.

Yet when Steve leans in to whisper in one girl’s ear, causing her to giggle excessively and bash her eyes at him, Billy’s heart beats all wrong, fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle. It triggers that good old fight instinct in him, the one that used to make him throw fists with Steve before that handsome brunette dared kiss him.

Nothing’s been the same since- fucking Harrington; Billy was perfectly fine before that, completely, and now? Now he can’t stop thinking about their first time. Their second time. Their third. Fourth.

And what their fifth time might be like. Not that he’s keeping count, of course. Not that he’s anticipating it. Or thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Hoping…

Like a magnet to metal, Steve turns his head and his eyes lock right onto Billy’s, looking drunk but aware of how he’s being leered at. Something in his hooded gaze tells more than it should, like a confession to curiosity, answering questions that haven't yet been asked. At least not in so many words.

Billy takes a long swig of his beer, emptying the bottle and throwing it off to the side, then lets his eyes wander down - far enough for there to be absolutely no doubt what he’s thinking about, and from the way Steve smiles next only shows, “Message received.”

When Steve kicks off of the hood and moves to walk away from his little fangroup, one of the girls grabs on to his arm, with pleading eyes and a slight pout she says something Billy can’t hear, pressing her arms together to accentuate her tits, and Billy honestly can’t blame Steve for looking down at the inviting, soft flesh for a few seconds too many, before making up an excuse that sets him free.

The disappointment on all their faces feeds Billy’s narcissism immensely, and it shows in the grin that cracks across his face. Ah to know that he’s the first choice of princess Stevie’s desire, it washes away all that doubtful jealousy with warm waves of aroused excitement.

Steve stumbles just a slight bit as he approaches Billy, inebriated and smiling. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?”

Billy teases with his tongue out, biting down on it with shiny teeth, and oh the thrill when Steve’s eyes dart down to watch Billy wet his lips and appetite.

“Sure I do,” he says with the most suggestive grin. “But not here, otherwise everyone else will want to bum a smoke, too.”

Not an actual concern, but a plausible excuse to get Steve alone.

Twigs bend and snap under Billy’s heavy footfall, and perhaps he didn’t think this through, walking in the forest in flip flops. Every time he turns to look behind, Steve’s still there, following with his eyes cast down to calculate every step before taking it, brows knit and eyes squinting in concentration.

The music is still audible at this distance, but all the lights from cars and bonfires have been obscured by trees.

Billy can’t imagine anyone bothered following them all the way out here, and since he can only hear the faint pop music and Steve stumbling near, decides that, yeah, this is far enough.

Steve goes to slump against a tree, looking at Billy who fishes up a pack of cigs. “I didn’t actually follow you out here to smoke.”

“Oh really?” Billy chuckles deep and shoves the pack back into the pocket of his swimming trunks. “Just thought it’d be more courteous of me to offer you some anyways, but-”

One finger hooks itself on those red trunks and drags Billy closer till he lands close against Steve’s heated body.

“Eager, huh? Ah-” Billy hisses as Steve grinds their hips together, proving that he’s already sporting more than half a chub.

“I’ve been thinking about you for hours,” Steve admits with a slight slur, fingers working at the drawstrings of those red shorts. “Just waiting for you to show up, always fashionably late, wanna make sure everyone sees you, right?”

“Nothin’ wrong with liking being noticed,” Billy drawls with his nose pressed against Steve’s cheek, pursing his lips just enough to offer up light, almost chaste, kisses. “I’m more than worthy of the attention, don’t you think?”

“I do,” a whisper, and Steve turns his head to meet those gentle lips, just to then feel the breath of a moan graze his sweaty skin as he wraps his fingers around Billy’s girthy cock.

It teeters on the edge of uncomfortable, how stern a grasp Steve holds on his dick, the awkward movement of a clammy hand, but Billy grows hard quickly nevertheless, leaving him cursing and groaning.

“Fuck baby, ah-h…”

Steve smiles all too self-satisfied for doing such a half assed job.

With both arms extended above each of Steve’s shoulders, Billy braces himself against the tree, and when they kiss again - tongues dancing to the distant rhythm - he can taste absolutely every single sip of alcohol Steve’s had tonight, and Billy’s convinced it makes his own head spin a little.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” Steve whines all horny and pathetic into the embrace of their lips.

“Then turn around,” Billy’s voice is rough, demanding, confident, and he takes a step back to free up some space between them.

Steve lets out a shuddering breath at the chilling air between where their sweaty bodies had been connected, then swivels on his heels till his palms land firmly against rough bark. He pushes out his ass, serving it up on a silver platter, gazing over his shoulder to catch how Billy’s smiling all wicked and wild.

Billy runs his hand down the exposed bit of Steve’s back, where his crop top and shorts can’t reach, skin warm and soft and slightly damp from the summer heat. He dips a couple of fingers beneath the elastic waistband.

“Dressed a bit like a slut tonight, pretty boy,” he hums pleasantly and pulls at the shorts, just to let go and have it snap back, loudly.

An oddly delighted gasp escapes Steve. “Just for you.”

Billy’s hand had wandered down to caress a soft cheek, going further down to tease the skin just beneath the leg of the shorts.

“You really that needy and desperate for my attention?” His lips part in a grin, exposing sharp teeth that he licks across; a little predatory show that Steve absolutely notices.

“That’s not all I’m desperate for.”

Steve stretches out his arms proper and pushes himself against where Billy’s cock is rock hard, eliciting a groan followed by two hands grabbing all too hard onto Steve’s hips.

With his grasp bruising, Billy keeps Steve still as he ruts himself against the plush of Steve’s ass, both of them moaning as he slips and slides his full erection in the crevice between cheeks.

“Ah- Billy- please please please, I need more,” Steve whines with his head hanging low.

Billy chuckles, like rolling thunder in his chest, as he leans forward to bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, one hand slipping around and down to cup at Steve’s aching prick. He strokes it through the shorts, following the entire length up and down, Steve whimpering and panting and thrusting for more, as a wet spot forms by the head.

“God, you’re so wet and hard for me, baby,” Billy drawls, biting, kissing, sucking his way up Steve’s neck, marking him with his attention; make everyone know.

Thumbs hook themselves on the waistband to pull down the shorts just past the curve of supple cheeks, keeping his weeping dick trapped still.

“No underwear?” He brings his tongue to lick a sloppy line up Steve’s neck, nosing at the back of his ear, then breathes out hot, “Such a whore.”

Steve inhales as if to speak, to respond, but unadulterated lust occupies his mind like a thick fog, and all that comes out is a slight, erotic, “Fuck.”

And Billy brings his hand up to those pretty pink lips, pushing his way in without invitation, just to feel Steve’s tongue eagerly wrap itself around the two digits, letting Billy roam free in the wet heat till his fingers are dripping, spit running down his palm and wrist. Steve’s always so sloppy and obscene and greedy, which is what Billy loves about him.

He brings those slick fingers between them, down to circle around Steve’s rim, teasing with the tip applying just enough pressure for it to be agonizingly inadequate, making Steve whimper as he tries to move his hips in hopes of more.

Billy’s not a bad guy per se, at least not towards Steve anymore, so he gives his princess what he’s begging for and slips in a finger, smooth and easy, as deep as it goes, and he can feel how Steve trembles with delight. Relentlessly so, Billy pulls the finger almost all the way out, before plunging it back in again - setting a quick pace, but Steve’s hungry.

“Ah-h, more, Billy,” he moans with his head thrown back, mouth wide open to allow out every single lascivious little sound he has in him.

“Ssshh,” Billy hushes where he’s quick to lean in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Be quiet and I’ll give you what you want. Can’t have people hear you and come looking for us.”

“What’s the matter, hmm? Ah- afraid of getting caught with your pants down?” Steve laughs but in a low manner, ultimately proving he’s following orders.

And truth be told yes, Billy is afraid to get caught like this with another guy, but that just makes this all the more thrilling. So without words and choosing actions instead, he with his one free hand covers Steve’s wide open mouth before pushing a second finger into his soft hole.

Thankfully so, for the way Steve moans in utter glee vibrates against the palm of Billy’s hand.

“God you need it so bad, huh princess? Need my cock in you?” his voice thick with wanton and self-restraint.

Steve mumbles out in agreement.

It doesn’t take long before he adds a third finger, and there’s an immediate ecstatic response from Steve, who suddenly can’t help himself as he reaches behind to grab Billy by the wrist and tries to push him in deeper.

“Such an impatient little slut tonight,” Billy barks out in laughter and curls his fingers. He can feel every single muscle twitch and tremble at it, and the way Steve keens makes his own hard prick throb with desire.

“Mmh, ah- please, Billy, fuck me,” Steve tears his mouth free from Billy’s grasp, lips wet with drool.

“Lucky for you I brought lube and a condom with your name on it,” Billy snickers as he reaches into his own back pocket for the small packs, when Steve complains,

“N-no, no condom, please,” he pleads all pathetic, twisting around till their eyes meet through the darkness. “I want to feel you inside of me, nothing between us.”

Billy doesn’t have to think twice about that. The condom was a nice courtesy on his behalf, so that Steve wouldn't have to walk around with cum dripping down his thighs, but if he wants it so bad…

With one hand he undoes the drawstrings of his shorts, with the other he holds the little silver pack of lube up to his teeth as he tears it open. The liquid is warm from the summer heat as he pours it on his steely cock, moaning as he strokes himself a few good times to cover up properly before lining up with Steve’s eager entrance.

“Yes, ohh,” spills from Steve’s open lips as Billy enters him; the fat, blunt head stretching him out nice and wide.

And Billy keeps pushing in, inch by inch till they’re flush together, Steve sandwiched between Billy’s broad frame and the tree where his nails dig into the bark.

“You got such a nice, tight ass, pretty boy. So perfect for my cock,” Billy growls into Steve’s ear, teeth scraping against the shell of it as he stands as close as he can get.

Steve doesn’t have command of his own words at this moment, he can barely even hum out in agreeance as he’s overcome with blinding lust.

Slowly at first Billy pulls out before sliding in in one smooth movement, out again and in as he carefully increases the pace to the rhythm of Steve’s moans. He’s starting to learn the pattern of the sounds Steve makes when he’s getting thoroughly fucked. A certain whine when he needs more, harder, faster. A deep, guttural groan when it’s all just perfect. A string of high pitched curses whenever Billy rams into his prostate.

And the way Steve clenches tighter than any pussy Billy’s ever had whenever he’s close is almost gorgeous in a sense. With his eyes closed and forehead pressed against Steve’s shoulder, Billy thrusts into that indescribable heat, feeling how every muscle needs his cock, milking and massaging him, urging him deeper and deeper.

“Arrh fuck, feel so good.” He grabs on to Steve’s hips with both hands, pounding into him with ardent fervor, leaving poor Steve with the responsibility of covering up his own mouth.

Blame it on the liquor or Billy’s expert fucking, if he do say so himself, no matter which it has Steve cumming in near record time with an obscene, loud whine as he bites into his hand in an attemp to fight back his impulse to be heard.

It feels like magic, the way Steve’s climaxing body sucks Billy in, every single muscle convulsing around him.

“Yes, god, just like that, oh Steve I’m so close,” he groans out, strong and throaty, slamming in harder to get what he needs now that Steve has gotten his.

He leans back, one hand on Steve’s shoulder, pushing him against the tree as he pounds as hard as he can, staring down at where his girthy cock gets swallowed so eagerly, grinning at the oh so satisfying sound of skin slapping together almost violently so.

“Ahh fuck, Billy,” Steve whines, somewhat euphoric, somewhat sore, all together enjoying being used so easily.

“That’s right, bitch, say my name.”

“Billy!”

“Yes.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, yes, arh--”

He cums with what feels like an explosion of ecstasy in his groin, radiating out and up his spine to flourish in his chest as he fills Steve up with every last bit of energy that he has in him; a pulsating, slick heat that he buries himself in to the base of his throbbing cock.

But he doesn’t linger. As soon as they’ve both caught their breath he pulls out, well satisfied with his work as he slaps Steve’s ass lightly with his tongue out between teeth, chuckling at the little yelp that comes with it.

“Jesus, Harrington, that was fucking good,” he says as he puts himself away again in his swimming trunks.

Truth be told he wants to stay. Hell, he even wants to cuddle a bit, but it’s too soon to tell if Steve wants the same. No matter the answer, Billy isn’t sure he wants to know. Instead of thinking too long about what could be, he fishes up a cigarette and lights it quickly so that the smoke may fill the emptiness inside.

Steve’s a whole mess still. Basking in the afterglow, slow to pull up his shorts and turn around, just to steal the cigarette from between Billy’s lips and taking a drag himself.

“Really good, yeah,” he breathes out in sweet relief, then dares to ask, “What now?”

Like it’s a fucking invitation for more. To open up. To tell the truth. Every possibility flies through Billy’s mind all at once, but he plays it safe,

“I could use a drink.”

#Harringrove #lemon #Also on AO3 #my writing

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

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IOTA Reviews: Guiltrip

So, my week has been hell. In addition to working night and day on final essays for my classes, I've been really busy at work lately, and the second COVID vaccine shot really took a lot out of me this week. And that's not even getting into the bureaucratic nonsense that comes with applying for the MTEL which is slowly making me wonder if I actually want to teach in the first place.

But, despite all that, there was a single light of hope this week that almost made it all worth it.

STAR WARS: THE BAD BATCH, BABY!

OH MY GOD, THIS SHOW IS AMAZING! I ALWAYS LOVED THE CLONE-CENTRIC EPISODES OF THE CLONE WARS, AND NOW WE GET AN ENTIRE SHOW ABOUT AN ELITE TEAM OF THEM? KICKASS! AND IT TAKES PLACE AFTER ORDER 66 WITH GRAND MOFF TARKIN AS THE MAIN VILLAIN? SWEET MOTHER OF GEORGE LUCAS, I CAN'T WAIT! I DON'T EVEN CARE THAT THEY TRADED IN THE COOL SNIPER CLONE FOR SOME LITTLE GIRL CLONE, I ALREADY WANT TO SEE MORE THAN THE TWO EPISODES WE GOT SO FAR! GOD, I LOVE THIS SHOW!

Oh yeah, there was also a new episode of Miraculous Ladybug that aired on the same day too, I guess. It was pretty good. Hell of a lot better than the past three episodes I've sat through.

Let's get into the fifth (chronologically the eleventh) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Guiltrip

We start off in the middle of class where we see Marinette looking at Adrien lovingly.

Because the writers are still trying to push the Love Square on us as if they were trying to sell us some death sticks. And yes, expect a few Star Wars jokes in this review. This episode did premiere on May 4th after all.

Rose suddenly gets a headache, and asks to go to the nurse, saying that “Miss Dora” is back. While walking there with Marinette, she explains that it's a code name she gives when her head hurts and can tell Miss Bustier without letting everyone know. She probably felt a name like “Maya Grain” would just give it away.

At lunch, Juleka gets a text that really upsets her, so Marinette tries to cheer her up. Keyword being “tries”.

Okay, yes, this is referencing the previous scene, where Rose refers to a certain snack at the nurse's office she eats to recover her health whenever “Miss Dora” visits called “Mr. Coffee”, but it's just bad timing. I get Marinette has a habit of not reading the room, but why did she have to use the term “Miss Dora” when she knows what it's being used for? Sure, she doesn't know that Juleka knows, but did she really have to say “Miss Dora”? She couldn't have used any other name instead? It's like making a chemotherapy joke when you just found out someone close to you has cancer. Even putting the context aside, what is this joke's punchline supposed to be? That “Miss Dora” will visit Juleka if she eats her lunch? Even by the humor standards of this show, the joke fails spectacularly.

Marinette bumps into Adrien, and although she stutters a little with a little exaggerated body movement, she does manage to take things seriously so she can have an actual conversation with Adrien about Juleka, who wants to be alone. She explains that the text she got was from Rose, who was sent to the hospital because of her sickness, and the entire class finds out because Marinette texted everyone to come to check on Juleka.

Goddamn it, Marinette. I usually defend you for getting screwed over by the writing, but you really aren't on your A game today.

Juleka explains that Rose got this sickness when she was little, which naturally worried everyone else. To make things worse, Juleka also says Rose made her swear to not tell anyone about her to worry her. Everyone else swears to not let Rose know that they know, and the act of support is actually enough to drive away an Akuma targeted at Juleka.

Unfortunately, nobody ever said anything about being overly affectionate to Rose, so everyone in the class tries to do things for Rose like carry her bags, giving her a pillow to sit on in school, helping her take notes, letting her cut in line at lunch, and giving her apples.

All of this makes Juleka remorsefully tell Rose that she told everyone else, which worries her because she hates all the special treatment, so she goes to tell them all about her illness. While they seem to accept her, the next time she sneezes, they overreact like, uh... how can I make this joke in a tasteful way?

Rose says she's had enough with all the treatment, which makes Juleka feel guilty. In the bathroom, she gets akumatized into Reflekta (yet again) with a Sentimonster named Guiltrip. And then Reflekta immediately gets sucked into the Sentimonster, which will cause it to go out of control. Nice job, Shadowmoth.

While it might not look like much, this is easily my favorite Sentimonster by far. Granted, that's not saying much, given all we've gotten so far for Sentimonsters is bootleg Mothra, sentient candy, a robotic doll, a frog with a body count, yet another evil doppelganger, and an eye, but my point still stands. Rather than actually confront the heroes, it's basically a portal to another world where it can trap people in bubbles that represent their regrets and despair, and turn them into copies of Reflekta.

It's a really strong metaphor which reminds me of the villains from Kamen Rider Wizard, who tried to drive their victims to despair in order to turn them into monsters. Ironically, that show's main villain is also some asshole in white who was risking countless lives just to save someone close to him. In general, the area inside of Guiltrip is visually stunning, and easily the highlight of the episode. It's just so surreal, and it really sets the tone the episode's going for.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrive on the scene, and also get sucked into the portal, seeing some of the victims before they also start to fall into despair. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but this is one of the few times where Angstdrien Depreste is thematically appropriate. Cat Noir points out that if they had simply defeated Shadowmoth by now, none of this would be happening, which is a good point. He even attempts to kill himself using his Cataclysm, but unlike RWBY, they don't try to glorify it.

This also leads to Rose managing to fight off Guiltrip's powers with her optimistic personality (so I guess you could say she's A New Hope for the heroes), inspiring Ladybug to compliment Cat Noir. While I'd normally be pissed that this is yet another way to boost his ego, it does fit in with the episode's theme of positive thinking. Well, with the exception of one line where she points out what her time as Ladybug would be like without Cat Noir...

BEING A SUPERHERO IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. Yes, there are certain benefits to being a superhero, but it is not a fun game you play when lives are on the line. Why are the writers so dedicated to validate Cat Noir's beliefs that being a hero is just a fun extracurricular activity? Has there ever been a superhero who shares a similar mentality and isn't treated like a complete jackass?

So Ladybug and Cat Noir break free of the bubbles, and after summoning her Lucky Charm, a pickaxe, Ladybug realizes she needs more positivity to break free from Guiltrip. As such, she pulls out the Pig Miraculous and gives it to Rose, who transforms into Pigella. Funny how she forgot her little headache condition when she bangs her head like a death metal singer while transforming.

The design is... wait, she's not wearing a skin-tight jumpsuit? She's actually wearing something different?

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Yeah, I really like the Pigella design. There's a good mix of pink and white, and the skirt really brings the whole thing together. It really reflects Rose's optimistic and bubbly personality.

So the three heroes find Reflekta, who has been consumed by tons of bubbles. Pigella uses her superpower, Gift, to show Reflekta what her heart wants the most right now. So it's basically a more specific version of the Fox Miraculous? In fact, what do pigs have to do with optimism?

Whatever reason, it works, which helps Reflekta to break free of Guiltrip's influence, letting Ladybug de-evilize her. But because we need to have a fight scene in this episode, the Reflekta clones start to attack the heroes, but Ladybug uses the pickaxe to climb out of Guiltrip and purify the Amok.

So Rose hands the Pig Miraculous back to Ladybug, and the episode ends with everyone treating Rose normally in class, realizing she isn't as delicate as she thinks she is.

So yeah, I really like this episode. Aside from a few stupid things Marinette said this episode, I honestly don't have a lot of problems with the episode here.

I also really like the lesson this episode is going for. It doesn't shame Rose for rejecting the help, and it doesn't shame the class for being to overprotective of Rose either. It tries to find a middle ground, which is an important lesson to learn, not just for dealing with a loved one who has an illness, but for disabled people and other kinds of situations where someone has a disadvantage. Even as much as I ragged on Marinette for the text, it's clear that she isn't the only one to blame. In fact, nobody really gets blamed for anything this episode. It's more of a misunderstanding, and both sides find a balance on how to treat Rose.

It's overall a really good episode, and the second best one so far this season. And you know what? This episode taught me the importance of staying positive, so with that in mind, maybe I shouldn't be dreading “Queen Banana” when it comes out this week.

Wait, what? It got pushed back two weeks? Oh, THANK GOD! Now I feel like dancing. And I know exactly what song to dance to...

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#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #rose lavillant #pigella #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #shadowmoth #shadow moth #juleka couffaine #reflekta

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thebluunado · 3 years

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Tips for tourettes pt.1: School

These are just some tips on how to deal with tourettes syndrome or any tic disorder at school! I hope this helps you out as much as it has myself!

• First off, we got the 504 plan! If you dont have one yet, please get one. I beggeth of you! 🙏 If you dont know what it is, its basically a plan that gives you a free pass for a lot of things. For me, my 504 plans consists of me being able to bring a rolling backpack to school because I have a tic where I drop or throw things and I have to carry a school laptop so... Y'know. I can also bring fidgets in class such as a fidget cube, or sensory toys. I'm able to let all of my tics out without getting in trouble, which is key! I am able to get out of my classes four minutes early, so I can get to my next class before the hallways fill up. When there a big crowd of loud people, my tics tend to get worse. I am now able to eat snacks in class because my tics get VERY violent when I'm hungry. The list goes on, so if you're school allows 504 plans, please get one!

• Aight, second, we got supportive friends! I mean the type of friends whom you can tic around without them babying you, or laughing at you, or saying they wish they had tics. The type of friends who you can count on to comfort you when you're having a bad ticcing day. The type of friend who will take the time to educate themselves of your disorder and take care of you without making you uncomfy.

• See, now its time for the third one. WRIST BRACES!! Now, if you don't have a tic where you bang your wrist together, hit yourself with your wrists, or hit your chest with your wrists, this doesn't apply to you. But if you DO, then these will be VERY helpful to you! They will protect your wrists, and bones in your hand and forearm, and of course, the place you're hitting.

• For the fourth one, we gotta knotted pillow! This is also a protective object in which you can use to protect yourself and others, but its not just used for your wrists!! It actually helps with autism, and ADHD because its a sensory item. I don't know if it works for Anxiety, but it might, so please go check it out!

#tics and tourettes #tics #tourettes syndrome #vocal tics #tic disorders #motor tics

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lokis-little-kitten · 3 years

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Teaching Assistant 1

Title: Teaching Assistant Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: LokixReader Rating: Mid Warning: spankings, mentioning of masturbation, ED, college, teacherxstudent Summary: You get a job as a teaching assistant for you professor Loki Laufeyson. Quickly the relationship takes a turn when Loki offers to teach you the robes of BDSM.

You sit down and grab the books and notepad that you need for your class. The book- Mansfield Park- was absolutely amazing and you mourn the fact that this month is over and so this book. Professor Laufeyson- the Literature professor- always has you read one book per month and has you write an essay on it.

Professor Laufeyson is definitely your favourite teacher here at Asgard University. He is the son of the dean, Odin Allfather, and brother of the next dean Professor Odinson.

Professor Laufeyson is a strange one- you have to admit- but he has passion. He loves literature and that makes him a great teacher. He is stern though… You have never seen him laugh or even smile. He doesn’t allow you in without your book- not even to listen to his lecture- and holds the old fashion dear to his heart. He isn’t that old yet, however. Only twenty-something. Not much older than you-you believe.

He is also very handsome. It may be unprofessional to think that of your professor but you can’t go around it. Raven black hair that barely reaches his shoulder is always combed back. Pale skin and piercing green eyes adore his skinny face and match his lean body perfectly. He always wears a suit- with tie!- while dominating the room. He is basically the wet dream of everyone. Handsome, smart, good family, money and secure job, what else more would- could- you ask for?

You and your best friends always wonder how he would be in private. Would he be just as domineering or would he let go a bit? Be a playful gentle black lab? You just don’t know…

When said best friend- Dimitri- walks in he smiles at you. ‘’There is my bestest friend of all time,’’ he chirps as he pulls you in a hug. ‘’Hey there baby,’’ you chuckle and hug him back. Dimitri is like family to you. You were removed from your home when you were only ten years old and went from foster family to foster family. Dimitri is here from America because he wanted to study in the UK. He rarely sees his useless parents as well and so you sought comfort in each other.

Then Professor Laufeyson strides in. In a straight line he goes for the desk and lays his bag on the table. He pulls out Mansfield Park and his laptop. Next, he starts the beamer and connects his laptop to it so it shines on the white-board. The long coat slides from his shoulder and is then parked on the back of his chair.

All of this takes him a while but everyone is quiet. The gaze of every student is focussed on the man in front of you. He then finally stops walking around and stares at you for a moment.

‘’So,’’ his voice then echoes, ‘’I see you have made it to my class. Good, because today I have an announcement. Since the first month of this year is over I will need a teaching assistant. This will obviously be great on your resume, help your grades, give you time off school, count as volunteering this year and may even secure a job on this very university. If you are interested you will have to fill out a form that you can find in your email and send it to me before tomorrow. Next class I will announce who got the job.’’

A careful hand is raised in the first row. ‘’Miss Jobbs, what is it,’’ Loki asks coldly. ‘’How will this person be selected.’’ ‘’I will. Who I think is most fitting will get the job, simple. Any other questions?’’ His gaze scans the class until another hand rises.

‘’Mister Fors?’’ Loki slightly turns towards the boy on the third row. ‘’Well… Will things like grades or attendance count in this progress?’’ ‘’Most certainly! Everything, mister Fors,’’ Loki spits out while leaning on his chair, ‘’will count in this choice. Now let’s continue but before that.’’

Suddenly his gaze falls onto you. ‘’Miss Y/L/N, does your sitting position enhance your academic performance?’’ You look at yourself. You have one foot folded under you and the other over your knee. It’s comfortable.

‘’Yes?’’ Loki raises his brows. ‘’Very well then. Can I then assume you are able to tell me why Mansfield Park is such a brilliant but lesser-known novel from Miss Auston?’’ And so the class has started.

Professor Laufeyson gives all of you some homework and Wuthering Heights to read at home but then lets you go. You’re relieved that there is a break after his class, it is always so intense that you're in dire need of it!

You sit down at a bench with a hot latte next to you. Dimitri sits down on the opposite site and gives you a smile. ‘’So… Teaching Assistant. Sounds good to me, what about you?’’ You nod and get your laptop. ‘’I think I will apply but I don’t think he’ll choose me. I mean nor my attendance or grades are perfect and that is what he looks for… perfection,’’ you mumble while still clicking on the email.

You open the form and read it through. Standard things. Class, name, age, major. You fill it in and send it to your teacher while chatting with Dimitri. ‘’The question is, however,’’ you smirk hitting the send button, ‘’will you apply?’’ Dimitri shrugs. ‘’Nah… I don’t need the extra work. I just want to relax.’’ You nod a little and open your drive.

You’re a bit of a writer and so do it in all of your spare time. You have written and ton of stories already. Passionate fighters, tearful expeditions and ‘written erotica’ you could better qualify under BDSM… You have a hidden soft spot for it.

Never did you bring it up in any of your relationships or even to your friends. You never went to any forms to talk to other. You’re just you and you write about it in secret.

Your secret…

The week passes slowly as usual. You like going to school but sometimes you get sick and tired of the endless lecturing. Then the first class of this week with Professor Laufeyson rolls around.

When you walk in you can feel the nervous atmosphere in the room. Most people want to know who got the assistant position. You too fidget with your rings while waiting for Laufeyson to walk in.

‘’Hello class,’’ then echoes through the room accompanied by his heavy footsteps, ‘’good to see you all survived the four days without this class. ’’

He does his normal routine while letting everyone wait in excitement. He then casually starts his class. He explains a million things but not much sticks this week. He probably tells you half of the same things tomorrow anyways. He then finally finishes up.

‘’I expect you to have one-fourth of your essay done on Thursday and then… What you- apparently- all have been waiting for this class. Who has the assistance position.’’ You are already talking yourself down. He won’t pick you… Why did you even apply with those grades? It’s pathetic. Hopefully, no one finds out.

‘’Miss Y/L/N, you are the lucky girl that has the position from now on I expect you in my office in ten minutes to discuss everything.’’ Your eyes widen when he says it. You… Is he sure he means you? Maybe he just got the wrong name. He must have.

The class start to empty out when you get out of shock and able to pick up your stuff. You quickly do and rush to the professor's office. You wait for it to be exactly ten minutes since he is very keen on punctuality.

You knock once, twice… Answer. ‘’Come in!’’ You open the door and peer into his office. You had never been inside. It is beautifully old and cosy. The walls are wood panels with patterns in them. The floor is carpet which you didn’t expect but the grey-brown pattern compliments the room.

On the left is his desk that is the same colour brown wood as the walls. The leather chair behind him is green just like all of the other accent colours in the room like the lamps. Everything metal is a golden shade while fabric is that same dark green. On the right side is a fireplace that burns softly with two bookcases on both sides. In the corners are green-brown chairs you can sit in and read. The office is perfect for Professor Laufeyson, undeniable.

‘’Miss Y/L/N, come sit,’’ he speaks pointing at the simple green brown chairs in front of his desk. ‘’Thank you,’’ you whisper while walking towards the left chair quietly. You feel like you’re not allowed to make any noise here.

‘’I assume you were rather surprised when I said your name? It was written all over your face,’’ he mumbles while looking down on a paper with a red Sharpie in hand. ‘’Yes,’’ you breathe. ‘’Why is that?’’ He still doesn’t look up at you, almost ignoring you.

‘’I’m not a perfect student I-’’ ‘’No your not that is why I chose you.’’ Finally, he looks up from his work. ‘’I think you have it in you to become a great student. Maybe one of the best I’ve had.’’ You furrow your brows. ‘’Well… thank you?’’

Professor Laufeyson puts away his marker and now gives you his full attention. ‘’Miss Y/L/N, the reason I asked you here was so we can discuss your duties as my assistant. You will be required in my office after your last class everyday, unless I dismiss you beforehand. Understood?’’ ‘’Yes.’’

‘’Good, most of it will be self-explanatory when it comes along but there are some things you need to know before we start all of this.’’

Half an hour later you finally leave his office. This guy really is intense. He asked you at least a million different questions, told you about him and the uni while also telling all of the rules. You were quick to get your notebook when he started to tell you the rules. Luckily he was so kind to repeat them every now and again so you could write them down.

He had you print your schedule as well so he could find you if he needed you when in class and so he knew when to expect you. He also had you print out some other things. Luckily there is a Bluetooth printer located in his office.

When you finally get home the only thing you want to do is write, eat and sleep. So that is what you do. You write a smut- BDSM- story because… why not and have dinner. You’ll print your story tomorrow, you tell yourself when you are ready to go to bed.

Permanent Taglist. @sherlocksuperfan666 @ms-marveleous @straya4lifemate @ lexiiiii28 @ thegoddessnyx02 @marvelfangirllll @gingers-writing king-stony@mr-hiddlestons-pet@ dark-night-sky-99 @metalheadspider @fuckthatfeeling @ god-save-loki @ devilbat @mariekoukie6661 @darkprincessloki92 @ gravitational-anomaly @ welpsher @ umi4724 @suchannoir @deputy-orange-juice @wolfcore227 @green-nightlight loving-life-my-way

Loki Only Tag List @bambamwolf87, @mr-hiddlestons-pet, @meyoko10 @notan-applepielife@suchannoir @deputy-orange-juice @wolfcore227 @green-nightlight loving-life-my-way

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #lokiteachingassistant #lokiteacher #lokixreader smut #lokixstudent #teacher x student #loki odinson #lokiofmischief #loki of asgard #marvel

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ssa-sugar-tits · 4 years

Text

Unwinding

Request: this one

Emily being irritated after work and taking it out on you with a strap on 🥵🤤

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: nsfw, smut, dom!emily, strap-on/penetrative sex, strong language, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), overstimulation kink

the gif doesn't really go along with the fic but we'll ignore that

Waiting for Emily to come home always fills you with anticipation. The cases can be long and grueling and you'll drop whatever you're doing for her when she says she's coming home. Tonight there was nothing to drop as it's 3 am but the love is there all the same. Humming softly while you put on some tea, your eyes light up when you hear the sound of the door opening.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're home." You turn to face your girlfriend with a wide grin but she's fuming, slamming the door behind her. Emily scrunches her dark eyebrows and darts her eyes as she drops her bag on the couch and bites down on her bottom lip. Ignoring your greeting she mutters to herself incoherently. Bad day at work, apparently. Wanting to comfort her, you sit beside her and start to ask her if everything's alright.

"Em, what's wro--" You grunt when she cuts you off by planting a firm kiss on your lips. Immediately turned on by her hasty movements you whine involuntarily at her pulling away. You watch in awe, mesmerized while she undresses, clearly not in the mood to talk about it.

"Go wait for me on the bed Y/N. Lie down, naked with your legs spread." She orders without so much as glancing to see if you're obeying. Which you are, of course. Desperate for her touch like you have been for the past week, you lift your shirt over your head and remove your undergarments next. You position yourself just like she told you to and struggle not to start impatiently touching yourself. As much as you want her to open up to you, angry sex with Emily Prentiss is fucking amazing. The filthy strings of growls that escape her pretty mouth and the sensations you feel at the whim of her mercy are unparalleled. Your mouth waters pathetically when Em finally joins you in the bedroom you share. Her walk is slow and teasing, tits bouncing ever so slightly with each step and a strap on between her legs. The look on her face is one filled with lust and rage. Neither of you are sure which feeling is making her breathing hot and heavy but no one's complaining. In one swift movement, she pins your wrists above your head and attaches her lips to your neck hungrily. The movements are sloppy, her open mouth leaving large marks on your skin. Her fingers trail down to your already wet, throbbing core.

"Emily..." You hum her name in delight and she snaps her head up, removing her hands from your body.

"Did I fucking say you could speak?" With wide eyes you shake your head rapidly and apologize. "Exactly."

"I'm sorry," You whine. "Fuck me Em, fuck me until you feel better."

"That's better. Now be good and take this for me."

You yelp when she inserts the strap on into your pussy with one rough thrust, barely giving you time to adjust. Her movements don't falter however, she thrusts again and you moan, loudly. You bite down on your lip forcefully to keep from crying out her name. You don't want to do anything to make her stop.

"Who's in control baby? I am." Moaning and breathing heavily, you answer her.

"Y-You are Emily. You're in control. No one else can fuck me like you can," Somehow her thrusts into you have gotten harder and faster and your eyes close happily while you're overcome with pleasure.

"Yeah that's right Y/N," she fills you again with quick motions and your walls tighten as you get closer to your orgasm. "My pussy, it's mine. Cum for me baby. I want your little cunt to cum everywhere." With more thrusts and dirty talk you reach your orgasm. Your moans and blissful screams escape at a shocking volume. Emily pulls out of you but doesn't relax, instead flipping you over to position you on your hands and knees. In sweet pain, you cry out when she enters your raw pussy again.

"Keep being my good girl Y/N," she purrs. "Tell me how good I fuck you."

"So good Em... So good!" You're overcome with complete fucking pleasure rising and spreading throughout your body while she fucks you hardly. Tears stream down your cheeks while you let out more hearty moans and orgasm again. Weak from being fucked relentlessly, you collapse onto the bed but Emily isn't through with you yet. Her tongue massages your lips with pure passion and she applies rough suction to your clit. Her tongue circles your sex before shoving it as deep inside of you as she can, her finger reaching to keep rubbing you. Not being able to control yourself, your hands grasp her hair greedily and she keeps eating you out perfectly. The "fuck y/n" and grunts you hear against your poor overstimulated pussy only fuel your powerful orgasms. No surprise, you cum again and let out a loud but enjoying sob when her tongue stays on your pussy to soak up your juices.

"B-Baby..." you moan, vision fading. Emily keeps eating you out despite having made you orgasm three times in a row already. Her mouth detaches from your pussy to speak but her long fingers continue furiously rubbing at your clit.

"Does that hurt Y/N? Too bad because I know how much you like it." At this point, you can't speak anymore. You just moan loud enough for the whole building to hear and babble and curse incoherently while her skilled mouth gives you delicious friction. Nearing a fourth orgasm, she spreads your legs forcefully and lines up her strap on with your opening again. Her thrusts are slow and sensual this time and your moans speed up while she grips your thighs. Pulling her down weakly, you take one of Emily's breasts and roll her nipple with your tongue before sucking lightly. Emily gasps and stops thrusting for a second but immediately goes back to fucking you. When you orgasm for the final time, you scream against her tit in your mouth prompting a long moan from her. Cum dripping down your legs, she finally lays down beside you and cradles your head in her arms softly.

"Bad day?" you mumble, making her laugh.

"Yeah but I feel better now baby." She strokes your hair and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. As you drift to sleep holding each other you lift your head to look at her with an exhausted smile facing her and she squeezes your waist tighter.

"Don't think I'm not going to return the favor once I can walk again," you hum. And you can't wait to follow through with that promise.

#criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds smut #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds headcanons #reader x emily prentiss

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Text

Day 8: Dot, Dot, Dot (Agent Whiskey)

Day 8: Dot, Dot, Dot - Agent Whiskey

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader (Agent Apple)

Rating: 18 + for language and mention of abuse/torture

This is kind of a sequel to day one of the November writing challenge but can be read as a stand alone, if you would like to read part 1 I will link it below.

Part 1 (Day 1: Heartbeat- Agent Whiskey)

November Writing Challenge Masterlist

Day 7: Sculpted - Javier Pena

I’m pregnant. - Apple

… - Whiskey

To be fair there was probably a better way to tell your boyfriend of eight months that you were carrying his baby instead of a text message but you panicked. The worst part of the whole thing was Whiskey’s reply or lack of. All day long you had been staring as the dot, dot, dot appeared on the phone before quickly disappearing. It was also probably a horrible time to do it while he was on a mission in India trying to take down a new crime syndicate that had popped up over there. Minor details right?

It had been six hours since you had sent that text, and you had hoped for a least some sort of reply even if just an ok would have been fine. But, the waiting was killing you. Is he mad? Is he happy? Is he worried? Nervous? Excited? Your head began to spin before you took a seat in the lab chair with your head in your hands.

You nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder, “Whoa, Apple it’s just me!” Your best friend Tequila shot his hands in the air like he was surrendering, “are you ok? You're more jittery than a jackrabbit.”

“....No” you can’t help the tears streaming down your face, and Tequila quickly pulls you into a hug.

“What did that old bastard do? Did he hurt you?” Tequila asks in a rush rubbing circles on your back, “Whatever it is I’ll kill him for you.”

You pull back, “NO! Please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s...oh I did something stupid Tequila and now I don’t even know how to fix it. I told Whiskey I was pregnant in a text message while he is gone on a mission and he hasn’t replied. I’m freaking out!”

Several emotions passed across Tequila’s face in quick succession before shock stayed, “WAIT YOUR PREGNANT?!” he shouts across the lab. You jump up quickly slapping your hand over his mouth, “SHHHHHH! Goddamnit Tequila do you want the whole world to know!?”

“Ok...ok yeah I’m sorry I just...how the hell? Well I know how babies are made but weren’t ya’ll using something? What the hell happened?” Tequila asks, going to hug you close again.

You rest your head on his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “We always do, it was only ONE time a few months ago when he got home from that three week mission in Cambodia and I picked him up from the airport...I was just so dang excited to see him and I couldn’t wait to get home so...we kind of had sex in my car in the parking lot.”

“God Apple, I was in that car yesterday when we went for lunch and now you're telling me that’s where you conceived you and Whiskey’s baby. I will never look at that car the same again.”

You groan loudly before the sobs start again, damn hormones. “I was so nervous when I got the call that I didn’t even think before I texted him and now look what I get to see all day!” You whip out your phone shoving it towards Tequila’s face.

“Dot, dot, dot… that’s all he wrote?” Tequila asks incredulously.

“Yeah that’s it! Oh shit I have completely screwed this up haven’t I? He’s not going to want this, I mean especially after what happened to his wife, and we’ve only been together a few months, and-”

“Do you love him?” Tequila cuts you off with his question.

“Yes,” you answer without having to think about it, “Of course I love him.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Just give it time, he should be back any day now from his mission and you will sit down and talk this through…. Apple do you want to have this baby?”

“Yes,” it was the truth, since the moment the doctor’s office had called and confirmed the baby it became yours and Whiskey or not you were going to have this baby.

“Ok then I have your back 100%, Uncle Tequila is going to be with you, every single step of the way.” Tequila pulls you back into a hug and you melt into his arms, knowing everything was going to be okay.

The rest of the day and the three days following that are a blur. You haven’t heard anything more from Jack and your feeling more and more depressed about it. Luckily Tequila is there to pick up the slack, he makes sure you're eating, drinking lots of water, and even goes with you to the first ultrasound appointment. Telling the nurse very proudly that he’s the baby's Uncle. When you both saw the sonogram for the first time, you honestly couldn’t tell who was crying more.

On the fourth day since you had sent the dreaded text message you finally heard from Jack. A single text message.

Meet me in my office. - Whiskey

Your heart leapt out of your chest and you reread the message over and over again before pinching yourself to make sure it was real. It was. You walk out of the lab in a sort of trance going over to the elevator and hitting the button for the eleventh floor. The whole ride up you feel like throwing up and you honestly don’t know if that’s from nerves or the pregnancy.

When you reach the large oak door, you knock hesitantly, the door swings open almost immediately and you are grabbed quickly before being yanked forward. The door shutting behind you. The room is pitch black and you can’t make anything out except that someone is holding you tightly against the door, their hands running all over your body. Before a warm mouth lands on yours. You sigh, you would know those lips anywhere.

“Jack” you moan when you're able to catch your breath, “Jack, what the hell are you doing? Turn on some lights in here.”

Jack's breathing is labored and you reach behind you for the light switch. When the light comes on you gasp. Jack never looks anything but immaculate but right now he’s a mess. No shoes, dirty jeans, wearing nothing but a sweat and blood drenched white t-shirt, and let’s not forget the bruises. His hands are slightly swollen, and purple, he’s leaning heavily on his right side, a black eye, and his nose looks broken. But all of that is nothing compared to his eyes, bloodshot, exhausted, and glassy with unshed tears.

“Oh...my god, Jack what the hell happened to you?” You rush around the room pulling his chair closer before you sit him down in the chair. You run over to the phone calling for Ginger in the lab to come with a med kit.

You try to help him remove his shirt but he’s hurt bad. You grab the scissors off his desk and begin cutting your way down the shirt. Underneath there’s even more bruises and a long jagged line made by some kind of knife. Ginger arrives moments later and gasps at his state, saying he arrived an hour ago and didn’t say anything to anyone. The two of you work quickly to get him patched up and healing, applying alpha-gel and bandages where needed. It’s only when you begin stitching up the wound on his chest that Whiskey breaks.

The tears slide down his cheeks and he openly sobs. Ginger looks at you and you nod letting her know she can leave before you kneel in front of Jack. “Baby, what’s wrong? We will get you all healed up, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“They took my phone,” the broken voice of your lover leaves you breathless, “I was tortured for days and one day they came in and showed me the message from you...they told me I was never going to see you again...that they were going to kill me, and I would never see you or our baby ever again.”

Your heart begins to beat even faster and the tears begin to form in your own eyes, before you reach up and gently put your hands on his cheeks. “Baby, it’s over now. You're not there anymore. I’m safe, we’re both safe.” You remove your hands to put them over your slightly raised bump. Jack looks down before putting his hands over yours.

“I’m done sugar,” he whispers brokenly, and for a moment you fear he means with you, “I am going to tell Champ today, I can’t do field work anymore. I don’t want to miss a single moment in our child’s life.”

“But...Jack you love being a field agent…” you start but he quickly cuts you off.

“I LOVE YOU MORE!” he shouts, “I….I can’t be a field agent and have you waiting around for me to not come home from a mission. I don’t want our baby not to know his or her father. I know we haven’t been together long but I am going to always choose you because I have been in love with you for a lot longer than we’ve been together!”

You don’t move for several minutes before you quietly respond, “oh Jack I love you too baby. I want to be with you and raise this baby with you and grow old with you.”

“Sugar, I want that too. So goddamn much,” he pulls you towards him pressing his mouth hard to your own.

When you break apart you ask him quietly, “Would you like to see our baby?”

Jack nods quickly before helping you to stand. You go back over to the door where you had thrown your lab coat off and riffle through the pockets looking for the sonogram photo. You take it out and hand it to Jack.

Jack spends a long time just staring at the picture of the tiny human growing inside you. When he finally looks up at you, fresh tears are making their way down his face. Your own cheeks are wet with them as well. He gently places the photo on the table before gesturing you forward. His hands reach out for you and when you get close enough he pulls your shirt up slowly. His hands rub gently over the small mound and he places his lips to your stomach.

“Your daddy is here, little one. No one is ever going to take me away from you or your mama again. I will be here for you every step of the way. I love you so much,” Jack looks up meeting your eyes and you see the reflection of love in his eyes back at you.

Day 9: No, you don’t -Maxwell Lord

#kingsman golden circle #Kingsman #Agent Whiskey #agent tequila #jack whiskey daniels #Agent Whiskey x reader #Pedro Pascal #November writing challenge #Day 8 #I'm tired #It's midnight

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anactualcaseofthetruth · 3 years

Text

Friends Can Break Your Heart Too - Chapter 4 << ao3 link

Or catch up! >>>>

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Story summary: Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.

Chapter summary: Angel and Mia settle a bet, and then face some harsh truths in the morning.

RATED: SMUTTY 🔥❤❗

Chapter 4:

It was quite possibly the stupidest thing she had ever said to date.

Well, she thinks, given the current situation, perhaps agreeing to this is worse, but she’s never been one to stand down from a good bet. It helps that she wanted to prove him wrong, to wipe the cocky smirk off his face when he suggested it. He just sounded so sure she’d lose, so confident in himself that she wanted to knock him down a peg.

In retrospect, Mia should have known. There’s a reason Angel is so confident, why he wears that smirk so well.

She turns her head to the nightstand where her phone sits, the timer counting down. Fifteen minutes. That all she needs to hold out for, fifteen more minutes. She nods to herself—she can do fifteen minutes; she’d held out for three sets of it so far. One more is no problem.

“Don’t worry about the time, querida,” Angel insists, his voice low and smooth as if trying to calm her when his actions are doing the exact opposite of that. “I’m not taking an L on this.”

“Yes, you are,” she moans when his middle fingers hook inside her just right.

“Fifteen minutes is a long time,” Angel reminds her as he maneuvers his thumb to rub her clit in slow, soft circles.

Mia squeezes her eyes closed, her hands gripping onto his sheets with such intensity she’s surprised they haven’t ripped and bites her lip to keep from moaning louder.

“Nah, baby, don’t do that, I wanna hear the noises you make,” he encourages and the rhythm of his fingers inside her pickup speed, and she knows he’s doing it on purpose, so she cries out like he wants. Sometimes it’s easier to give him what he wants than fight him, it placates him in the moment. Besides, she’s playing the long game here.

“Fu-uck,” she heaves as her legs start to shake, a tell-tale sign she’s about to cum, so Angel’s fingers withdraw from her center, leaving her on edge. “No, no, no,” she whines, but knows she only has herself to blame.

She’s the one who agreed to the damn bet, to give him free reign for an hour to do whatever he wanted sexually, within reason, to make her ‘ugly cry’ as she mentioned almost two weeks prior. It started out fun, at least for her, seeing as he gave her four orgasms in about thirty minutes, but then he’d started a new tactic—torture. He’s been edging her more than fifteen minutes now, making her almost cum three more times, and she hates it, hates him, hates this whole bet and herself for making that dumbass comment two weeks ago.

“Before you look again, I’ll tell you now, thirteen minutes,” he murmurs as his wet hand slides up her body, the other entangled in her loose curls. “I still have time.”

Mia can only nod as she tries to bring herself down, to keep her breathing even, but she feels warm, so, so warm, like she has a fever, and touches her forehead to check.

“Here,” Angel offers and grabs the bottle of water from the nightstand and signals for her to sit up a bit, his hand moving with her head and tilts the bottle to her lips.

She greedily takes a few gulps before dropping her head back to the pillow, letting the coolness of the liquid wash over her. “Thank you.”

“Twelve and a half minutes,” he responds and settles himself back along side her, his fingers returning to her core and starts to play with her outer lips. “Fuck, baby, I hope you know how much I enjoy your pussy,” he mentions as he drags a ringed finger over her clit, making her shudder.

The more they have sex and continue to get comfortable with each other, the more Angel talks during it. Sometimes its sweet, others it’s filthy, but it always makes her melt, and the last thing she needs right now is more heat.

“Do you know what a pretty pussy you have?” he questions while shuffling down her body so his face lines up with it.

Mia doesn’t answer, just stares at the ceiling and tries to think of anything else other than Angel’s velvety voice and honey-dipped words.

“Hey,” he clips and slaps her entrance with his ring-clad knuckles causing her hips to buck and a mewl to escape from her lips. “I want an answer, mi dulce.”

“No,” she breathes and blinks, focusing on the figure-eight paint on the ceiling.

“Well, it is,” he tells her as his head dips down to her mound and licks up her slit. “You’ve ruined mi dulce for me because your pussy is so sweet, it’ll only ever apply to you now.” His tongue flicks at her clit as his fingers spread the lips. “My favorite pussy,” he murmurs in between licks.

Mia throws her head back against the pillow, her entire back arching as Angel buries his face between her legs. Her hands thread into his hair to keep him in place, the inky curls soft and free of the hair gel he usually styles it with. “Yes, please, there, right there,” she pleads as her toes curl against his wide shoulders.

She tries to hide the tremble in her legs, the shake of her core, but it’s useless. He has fingers inside her, he can feel her body betraying her. He pulls his mouth from her pink heat, his beard covered with her wetness and she wants to kick and scream but won’t give him the satisfaction.

It’s a fine line between kicking and screaming, and ugly crying. She will not succumb, even if it is the fourth time he’d edged her.

But that doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to snap at him. “Just fucking get inside me already, I’m so sick of-” she stops when his free hand leaves her breast to cover her mouth.

“I don’t give a shit what you’re sick of,” he informs her, his voice low and firm, and his hand slides from her mouth to her throat. Being manhandled by Angel doesn’t scare her—in fact, before Jay it was a turn on, and now with Angel, with that trust continually building between them, it is starting to again, even if in baby steps. “I’m in charge for seven more minutes, aren’t I?”

Mia can only nod as her core clenches on nothing, and she hates being so completely empty when she knows how wonderfully he fits inside her.

“Good girl, now,” he goes on, which doesn’t help her situation. “I’m not inside of you because I know this pussy, my favorite pussy, and I know exactly what you’ll do.”

“What?” Mia asks while trying not to focus on his fingers slipping inside her.

“You’ll grip me so fucking tight I’ll fuck you until we both cum, and then time will be up, and you’ll win,” he answers. “I tried giving you multiple orgasms, all it did was make you sated and sleepy. That’s not what I’m going for here, remember?”

She nods, her body temperature high again and her heart pounding in her core as his two fingers tap her G-spot in a rhythm that has her hips going too.

“What am I going for? Tell me, baby,” he urges before latching his mouth over one of her breasts, his tongue sucking and massaging.

“To make me ugly cry,” she says and feels him nod against her chest.

“That’s right,” Angel confirms, shifting so his tongue can lave over the other nipple. Once it’s been given enough attention he pulls away and blows on it, making her shiver. “And I think my best plan is to play with you until you crack.”

“Five minutes,” she sighs when his fingers finally pull out of her.

“I know how much time I have,” he clips in return and slips his ringed finger in her slit, the ring nudging at her clit. “You know, you should be nervous.”

“What? Why?” she asks, breathless, as his fingers pick up pace at her clit.

“The less time I have, the more desperate I get,” he admits and it’s like a flip switches—his middle fingers slip back inside her, pumping her at an alarming pace while his other fingers start rubbing her clit, hard. “Maybe if I’d edged you from the beginning, but I don’t got time for that,” he goes on, his voice calm despite his frantic movements.

“Don’t stop,” Mia pleads, unashamed that she’s begging, and Angel seems to like it because a shit-eating grin overtakes his lips. “Please, keep going, let me cum, please, Angel, baby.”

“Ugly cry and I’ll do more than let you come, mi dulce,” he vows, but all she can do is shake her head as the assault continues on her body.

Mia mewls and moans and pleads and begs, but Angel is relentless. She tries closing her eyes, thinking of something else, but it’s impossible when his fingers are playing her like an instrument he’s perfected.

“I know you want to, baby, I know you’re close,” he encourages. “Just let the tears fall and I’ll make you come so hard, and so much, dulce, I promise.”

She shakes her head, her spine arching as she feels a rush of warmth at her core. “Fuck, Angel,” she pants. “Something—something—” she tries to warn him as she explodes literally just as the timer goes off. Tears spring from her eyes and something practically shoots out of her entrance and completely covers Angel’s chest, leaving him dripping wet.

“Dios Mio,” he swears, his voice thick with want.

With her entire body shaking, Mia lifts her head to look him in the eye. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to Go—” shes cut off with his mouth on hers and it’s only a few seconds before he’s fully sheathed inside her.

She’s not even sure she can come again, but trembles at the feel of him all the same as he pounds into her, chasing his own release. His arms are mounted beside her head as he rests his forehead on hers, their eyes locked on one another. He’s saying such filthy things with his talented tongue, and she knows he’s close.

He was close before he even entered her.

Even though she wasn’t sure she’d come again, she feels herself being pushed over the edge once more, reaching her high right along side him.

Angel pulls out just as her walls flutter around him, and uses his hand to pump his release out on her belly, the white ropes hitting her stomach as he grunts with each jerk of his hand.

“Fuck,” he croaks and practically collapses on top of her, apparently not caring that their collective juices are creating more of a mess between their sweat slick bodies. To be honest, she doesn’t care either, likes the closeness of his body.

After they’ve both caught their breath, Mia lifts her arms to wrap around his shoulders, her fingers lightly scratching the valley between his shoulder blades.

“Dios mio!” he repeats against her collarbone a few moments later. “If you want me to say it, I’ll say it. You won. But this is war and that was just one battle.”

She can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up her throat, but also doesn’t want to. “You think I’m going to agree to this again? Especially since I won?”

Angel lifts his head to look her in the eye. She doesn’t like the playful glint it has. “If you want to squirt again, you will.”

“Oh, my God, shut up!” she exclaims as her hands move to cover her face in embarrassment.

“You’ve never done that before, have you?” he asks, but all she does is whine in her hands in return. “You haven’t! That makes it so much better.”

“You’re a jerk and I don’t like you anymore,” she mumbles while he pulls her hands away. “No, I—I’ve never done that before, and I don’t know—“ she’s stopped midsentence when his lips press against hers, and it goes on longer than she expects, and tongues are involved.

“That,” he starts as he pulls away, then rethinks it and kisses her once more, “was so fucking hot, mi dulce.”

“Really?” she asks tentatively.

His face breaks out into a glorious smile. “Yes. Fuck, yes,” he insists. “That happening is worth me losing, even if it was a cheap win on your part.”

“Cheap win? I won fair and square!” Mia exclaims.

“You were crying when the timer went off, but I’ll give you the win as long as I get a rematch,” Angel insists.

“Fine, I will give you a rematch but crying as the time goes off implies time was up, therefore—”

“Don’t be a bad winner, no one likes those,” he interrupts with a look on his face she wants to slap, so she does just that, only its more of a tap. “Hey!” he laughs and pretends to bite at her fingers.

“Have you ever had that happen before?” she asks quietly, still embarrassed.

“Not that, no,” he answers and nips at her neck softly.

“What have you had happen, then?”

He pulls away from her throat. “I was eating this girl out once, behind a bar—”

“Of course, you were at a bar,” she comments, but he ignores her.

“And all of a sudden she pushes me away, I thought like, cool, time to get my dick wet, but instead she…” he trails off with a weird look on his face, like he smells something bad. “It was more of a golden shower. It was not what you did. I was just happy she pushed me away. She was so embarrassed she ran off, but I was like, man, I don’t even get my dick sucked after that?”

“Poor baby,” Mia murmurs while combing his hair back with her fingers. “Speaking of golden showers, I gotta pee,” she tells him. “And we gotta clean up, there are bodily fluids all over us.”

“Ooh, you talking dirty to me now? Trying to get me hard again, huh?” he jokes as he gets up on his knees.

“No,” she states firmly. “My vag needs at least twenty-four hours rest, and my clit? That is getting forty-eight, for sure.”

“So we can fuck this time tomorrow as long as I can get you wet without touching your clit? I accept this challenge,” Angel states while getting up.

“No, that is not what I meant!” Mia calls after him, then whines as she tries to get off the bed and follow, but everything in her lower half is telling her to just rollover and go to sleep. Her limbs feel heavy and tingly at the same time, and her vagina is definitely going to be extra sore tomorrow.

She hears the toilet flush, and the bathroom door opens to reveal a still-naked Angel wiping off his chest with a wet rag. “You coming?”

“No, I’m done doing that tonight, thank you,” she mumbles and groans at the thought of getting up. It just seems like so much work. She’s still figuring out the path of least resistance when Angel crawls back onto the bed. “What’re you—?” she stops when she sees the cloth still in his hand.

“Helping,” he answers her unfinished question while cleaning her abdomen.

Mia doesn’t say anything, and hopes he can’t hear when her breath hitches with each soft touch. When he goes to separate her legs, she resists. “You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be gentle, promise,” he tells her and nudges them open once again.

He is gentle, extremely so, especially when he reaches her core. It’s very intimate, the care he takes in making sure she’s clean and comfortable.

“C’mon, I’ll help you get to the bathroom,” he insists before she can protest and lifts her bridal style. “Can you get yourself back to bed?”

“You’re not that good, calm down, I can walk,” she mumbles as he sets her down in the bathroom. “I’m just being lazy.”

“You want to make that the next bet? After I win this one, I mean?” he questions with an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t have to make everything I say a challenge, you know,” Mia tells him. “So, unless you want to watch me pee—”

“You think I won’t?”

“Oh, my God! Out!” she orders and pushes him out of the room with all the force she has left, which isn’t much.

“It’s just piss, geez,” she hears him grumble, but continues his way to the bed as she kicks the door shut, thinking he’s lucky he’s her best friend because he sure can be annoying.

However, minutes later, when he’s resting his head on her chest and running fingers up and down her bare leg as she combs her own through his hair, she knows no matter how annoying he is he’s also the sweetest man she’s ever known, and that more than makes up for it. Especially when his soft ministrations put her to sleep so easily and peacefully.

When Mia wakes in the morning or early afternoon, she’s not sure, she’s on her side with Angel’s head cradled into her chest, her arms looped around his shoulders, and one of his lazily tossed over her hips.

She likes sleeping with Angel—when she does her nights aren’t plagued with nightmares or waking up every other hour at the slightest noise. When he’s in bed with her she knows she’s safe, from her subconscious or whatever else comes along. Especially when she stays at his place, no one would dare mess with a Mayan.

Her thoughts are interrupted when Angel’s phone pings from the nightstand. He groans against her chest before rolling over, leaving one arm underneath the pillow below her head as he checks it.

He groans again, looking at the notification, then resituates himself against her chest. It takes a few moments, but eventually he looks up at her, and jumps a little when he notices she’s awake. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that.”

“I didn’t do anything!” she laughs while pushing hair away from his forehead.

“It’s fucking creepy to wake up finding someone else looking at you,” he mumbles and looks very much like a child with his puffy face and sleepy eyes. “It’s scary movie shit.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes, Reyes,” she teases, and he scrubs a hand down his face, probably to wake himself up further. “Are you being summoned for big, bad biker business?” she asks while rolling onto her back and stretching.

Angel shakes his head and ghosts his lips across her collarbone. “Nah, some weather app or some shit. Goes off every morning, just usually sleep through it.”

“Weather?” she questions in a laugh. “We practically live in Mexico, it’s gonna be hot. Hot yesterday, today, and tomorrow. How you guys wear leather I’ll never know.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he tells her with a kiss to the forehead. “Mornin’,” he murmurs sweetly. “See, this is how you say good morning to someone, unlike what you do, you psycho.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Mia echoes and he rolls his eyes.

He’s about to respond when his phone goes off again and he reaches for it just as quickly as before. With another groan he drops it and shakes his head.

“Let me guess, it’s going to be hot today,” she teases, and he gives her the finger before rolling back over to face her. “Are you waiting for a certain weather update or—”

“Nah, that wasn’t—that was Taz reminding me we have templo during the yard’s lunch break,” he explains. “I’m not waiting for anything, just might be getting something from EZ. Not sure.”

“Everything alright, osito?”

Angel shrugs with his head propped up on his hand, the other drawing swirls on her bare abdomen. “I don’t want to remind him if he doesn’t remember, but… I don’t want him to think I don’t remember if he does, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Mia laughs and Angel does too. “What are you talking about?”

“Today’s the date eight years ago EZ killed that cop,” he tells her on a more solemn note.

“Oh.”

He nods and bites his lip. “I only remember because Letty was going off on Coco a couple days ago. He was teasing her about school and she had a meltdown over some math final she had coming up.”

“Yeah, a statistics test,” Mia confirms. “I’ve heard her bitch about it.”

“Yeah, she kept saying the date, and it finally hit me why it was ringing a bell in my head, like there was something I was supposed to remember, because there was,” he says as his lips form an upside down smile for the briefest of moments.

“You don’t think EZ remembers?”

“No, I know he does,” Angel insists. “I’m just… just hoping the clubs kept him busy enough that he doesn’t know what today’s date is, you know?”

“Sorry to tell you, osito, but knowing EZ’s brain, he knows,” she comments.

“Yeah,” he agrees in a sigh. “I wasn’t the best brother when he was in Stockton. I didn’t visit as much I should have, and I wasn’t a great one before he went in either. If I was, he probably would have never done what he did—”

“Or, you both would have gone to prison. We’ve been over this, babe, don’t dwell on the ‘what ifs’, it’ll only make you go crazy thinking what might have been,” Mia tells him.

“I’m trying to be better now, that’s the point,” he says, his voice firm. “I guess I just don’t know how to be there for him.”

“Have you tried asking him?”

Angel looks up at her, skeptical. “That simple, huh?”

“Can be, if you want it to,” she replies. “Or, if he wants it to.”

“Maybe,” he breathes. “What if I’m afraid of his answer?”

“What do you mean?”

“He still hasn’t been out long, querida,” Angel murmurs. “Sometimes I see him staring off, thinkin’, and I worry he’s getting the same thoughts he was that got him into that whole mess. Like, maybe, he’s thinkin’ about who killed our mom again, thinkin’ about how to figure out who did it.”

“Do you ever still wonder who did it?” Mia asks. “I know back then you weren’t on the same page as him, but what about now?”

At this Angel moves onto his back and rests his hands on his chest. After a long minute he looks over at her and shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” he answers easily and with finality. “Do you think about those fucks that killed your dad?”

“Touché,” she replies. “But, the answer’s no, I don’t, because they’re dead. Marcus had the whole bullshit MC killed, practically a mag emptied into each of their backs so their patches were illegible.”

“Hmph,” Angel grumbles with an appreciative nod. “Good.”

“So, you gonna lie to me again or tell me what you really think?”

“Fine. I wonder who did it sometimes, but… I still don’t wanna find him,” he confesses. “I don’t have the right to justice.”

“The right?” Mia asks while sitting up. “You have every right to. This person killed your—”

“I know what he did, alright!?” Angel interrupts her, his voice booming, and for a split second her body shakes before she gets control of herself.

Angel would never hurt her. Sure, she thought that about her ex in the beginning, but… she knows Angel’s heart, and from what she’s learned about his mother she knows Marisol raised two men who would never lay a hand on a woman.

He must have seen her startle because almost instantly he deflates and sits up with her. “I’m sor—look, this is why I don’t talk about my mom. I turn into a dick. I didn’t mean,” he stops his attempt at an apology and reaches for his cigarettes, lighting one quick and inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry,” he finally manages as smoke escapes his mouth.

“No, it’s me, I’m pushing. You don’t owe me any kind of explanation. I’m sorry,” she whispers and squeezes his free hand.

They are both silent for a minute as Angel seems to finish his first cigarette in record time and instantly moves onto a second. “I don’t have a right to,” he starts, startling her, “because I’m no better than the man who killed her.”

“What?” Mia demands as her eyebrows crinkle in confusion.

“When I was given my kutte as a prospect, before I put it on, Bishop stopped me. He stopped all of us—me, Coco, and Gilly,” he begins again. “He said it took a certain kind of man to wear a kutte, and who we would become if we were patched in would be very different from the men that stood before him. Being in the club, it changes you,” he tells her while ashing.

Mia nods, encouraging him along with a squeeze of her fingers.

“And he was right. Maybe the man I was before I joined the club deserved to know who killed his mother and wanted justice. But the man after I patched in? I’ve—” he stops and puts out his cigarette. “You know the kind of shit I’ve done, the kind of shit I have to live with, the sins I’ll die with.”

“Angel—”

“I’m not looking for sympathy, querida,” he assures her. “If you can’t find a way to live with what you gotta do, there’s no place for you in the life, that’s just the truth. I’ve found a way to live with what I’ve done, and I’m not gonna act like I’m a saint, ‘cause I ain’t.”

He stops again for a moment, and she just knows he doesn’t want her to say anything just yet.

“I have no right to expect justice for my mother’s killer, because I’m no better. I’ve killed too, Mia, and saying he should pay just because it was my mother? It’s fucking hypocritical. That means I deserve to die too, and maybe I do—”

“No,” Mia interrupts him, firm. “You don’t. It’s different.”

“A murder is a murder, mi dulce,” he responds. “Just ‘cause you’re sweet on me doesn’t mean what I’ve done isn’t murder.”

“It’s different,” she sniffs. “The people you deal with, they are in the life too, they know what they’ve gotten into and have done bad things too. You don’t go killing women or-or children or—”

“Hey,” he murmurs and cradles her face in his hands. “Maybe that’s true, but I’ve killed someone’s father, brother, son, and if need be, I’ll do it again. It’s the kind of man you become when you’re patched in.”

“You’d never senselessly murder someone’s mother, never, and you will never be able to convince me of that,” Mia states as her eyes blink to hold back tears.

“Maybe, but I’m still no better than him, and you won’t convince me of that,” he counters, his tone just as sure as her’s.

Mia stares into his eyes for a long moment, until Angel drops his hands and looks away from her, reaching for another cigarette. She knows he believes what he’s saying, that he’s no better than a cold-blooded killer, like the one who shot his mother, and it breaks her heart.

The air is heavy around them and she knows Angel is uncomfortable with his confession, not to mention the vulnerability he’s now shown her. She wants to tell him he’s wrong, that he’s the sweetest man she knows, that the sins he’s committed in the club don’t scare her, or make her think any less of him, but knows he won’t believe any of it.

So, instead, she confesses something that she’s ashamed of too, something to make her feel as vulnerable as he does, something to even the score. “I’ve almost done heroin,” she blurts out, and Angel turns to her, his mouth agape, and so his cigarette falls to the bedsheets.

“Shit. Fuck,” he swears as he picks it up, wiping the ashes from the dull yellow sheets. “What?”

“I—you told me something you’re ashamed of, so I’m doing the same to you,” she explains. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay, but heroin?” he questions. “You told me that you hate the stuff because of your mom, and because it’s fucking heroin.”

“I know, I know, I do,” she replies. “But I… but there were a few times where I got I down, really down, it’s like every bad thing that’s ever happened to me replays through my head again and again and again until,” she stops and looks down at her fingers, embarrassed. “All the times I watched my mom break Bishop’s heart, all the shit she’s put me through, every time Esai came home with that stupid guilty look on his face and I knew he cheated on me,” she lists off. “I feel it all.”

“Mia,” Angel whispers.

“I told myself I’d never do heroin, because you’re right, it’s fucking heroin, but I’ve seen my mom’s face when she shoots up, Angel,” she tells him. “Fuck, there were times she was shaking so hard because it took so long for her to find her next fix that she made me do it for her. One time she dropped her dime bag down a grate in the road, but it had one of those storm drains a few feet away. So, she literally forced me down into it and wouldn’t pull me up until I found it.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“The point is,” she continues with shaky hands, “I’ve seen what it looks like when the high hits, how every problem she has melts away, and all she feels is euphoria. When I get down, when I’m in that blackhole and I don’t see an end, I want that feeling, Angel.”

“So you’ve thought about doing it, that doesn’t mean—”

“No, I haven’t just thought about it, I’ve,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I grew up in the club, Angel, it’s what you guys put into the streets, smuggle over the border, it’s—it’s not hard to find, and I told you, I’ve done it for my mom, so I know exactly what to do, and even if I didn’t it’s not hard to figure out.”

“What happened?” he asks, his voice soft.

“I’ve had the needle against my skin, picked out a vein,” she answers, finally looking up to meet his eye. “I guess it’s good I hate my mother because that always outweighs the want to not feel anymore.”

“Thank fuck,” Angel murmurs before pulling her into his arms. “Does anyone know?”

“Promise me you’ll never tell Bishop, please,” Mia says, her face buried in his neck.

“I won’t,” he states as he gives her a squeeze.

“Esai knows,” she answers his previous question. “He found me once, that’s a whole different story, but,” she stops and let’s out a long breath, “he didn’t yell at me, make me feel bad, or anything like that. He never judged me or held it against me, never once brought it up during one of our fights or our break-ups.”

“What’d he do?”

“Held me,” Mia tells him honestly, leaning away from Angel’s hold so she can look him in the eye. “Told me that no matter what we were going through, together or apart, in a fight or perfectly fine, he’d be there for me, no doubt about it. And, every time I called, he was. He held me until I could pick myself up and then he made me get rid of it myself, to prove to myself that I didn’t need it, and never would.”

“So this hasn’t happened in almost two years?”

Mia shakes her head. “It’s happened four times. Esai has only been there for three of them.”

“What about the fourth?”

“It was when I was with my ex,” she admits.

“Jay?” Angel asks and that name in his mouth makes her shudder.

“Yeah.” Mia doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t know how to tell him the situation that caused her to drive to Oakland, to Niner territory because if a Mayan saw her it would be only minutes before Esai got a call, found her, and she broke down in his arms, telling him what she had done the day before at the clinic. “It doesn’t matter why, what matters is that I didn’t do it. That’s what Esai always said, to focus on the fact that I didn’t do it, not the reason I thought I needed it.”

“I’m glad you realized how strong you are,” he responds, his voice still low and soft, and so very comforting.

“I did what I always did with Esai. I got rid of it and told myself I didn’t need it, I’m stronger than that, and I will never give my mom the satisfaction,” she tells him. “She always said I’d end up like her, an addict and only good at lying on my back.”

“Bishop know that?”

“No, she’d deny it anyways, and I was always afraid he’d take her side. She knows exactly how to get under my skin and is Bishop’s weakness, so I never spoke up,” Mia says. “Esai fucking hates her, and she avoids him at all costs. She knows if she says or does one thing to piss him off he’ll go off, and there would be no coming back from that, especially know that he’s president of the mother chapter.”

“I don’t know what it’s worth to you,” Angel murmurs as he links their hands together, “we don’t have the same history that you and E do, but I’m proud of you.” He brings her hands to his lips and kisses them gently. “Even without someone there to tell you that you’re strong, that you don’t need that shit, you realized it on your own.”

“Angel—”

“I don’t know your mom, but I know you’ll never be like her. You do know that, right?”

Mia looks down and let’s her hands slip from his, like it’s accidental, not a big deal, but it’s intentional, because he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how much she’s already like her mother, how she’s just jumped from man to man like her, how she ran to Bishop with her tail in between her legs like her, how she expects him to be able to fix all her problems like she does, and how she’s let one man ruin her for anyone else because she refuses to get hurt again. They were very different men, of course, but the outcome is still the same.

“Mm-hm,” she manages, but knows it’s not believable, so she continues, “but it’s always in the back of my head, you know?”

“I get that.”

“I guess everyone worries about becoming their parents,” she goes on before he can. “It’s part of the whole cycle, isn’t it? You have kids, love them, raise them, try not to make mistakes, but it’s inevitable, and in the end you want them to be better than you. Then, because of the mistakes you made, they want to be better than you, to not put their kids through the same shit you put them through.”

“Maybe that’s the real American dream, huh? To be better than your parents,” Angel muses.

“Well, we’re halfway there, don’t you think? Just for trying. That’s half the battle, right?” she asks.

“I hope, but I guess I’m just happy that I’m not losing the battle. Yet, at least,” he mumbles, then grabs her by the hips and lifts until she’s straddling him. “I need you to do something for me though, you think you can do that?”

Mia loops her arms around his shoulders and nods. “If it’s some daddy-daughter roleplay because of parental issues I’m gonna have to pass,” she answers, and he barks out such a loud laugh that it fills her chest with warmth. “I’m down for roleplay but, the whole ‘daddy’ thing just isn’t for me, not with my parental shit show. I don’t look down on people that do, just isn’t for me. We don’t kink shame here.”

“Oh, well, what kind of kink would you do?” he asks, curious.

“Hm, well, I call you osito so maybe Mr. Bear? If you really want the dad thing I could try Papa Bear but—”

“Stop,” he cuts her off in a chuckle. “I was kidding, but I’m gonna veto Papa Bear while we’re on the subject, just to be safe. You have time to think about it. Besides, I already have my name for you.”

“You do?”

“I told you last night. I’ll only ever call you mi dulce because your pussy is so sweet, and I can call you it around anyone. I’m not into the whole mister thing, or the daddy kink because I got my own parental shit too,” he tells her.

“I’m gonna have to give this a lot of thought, then.”

“You know this has nothing to do with what I was gonna ask you, right?”

“I figured, so much for a change of subject,” Mia sighs and lets her arms fall from his neck, her hands moving to trace the tattoos on his chest.

“I’ll be quick so we can get back to this,” he says with a smirk playing at his lips. “I know I’m not Esai, but if you feel comfortable, I want you to promise to call me if you ever find yourself in that dark place again,” he asks, and her breath catches in her throat. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll sit with you, talk with you, get rid of it with you, whatever you need, and I promise not to judge you or give you a hard time.”

Mia opens her mouth, but nothing comes out, doesn’t know what to say to him, to the sweet man before her who thinks so little of himself, yet is offering to be there when she thinks even less of herself. “I… sure.”

“C’mon, you can do better than that, querida,” he insists.

“I will, I just don’t want you to see me like that,” she says honestly.

“You don’t gotta worry about shit like that with me, you know that,” he murmurs and cups her cheeks. “I’m never gonna use anything you tell me against you or tell anyone you don’t want me to. What we say and do stays between us,” he promises.

She nods and leans forward until their foreheads are touching. “Okay.”

“Promise me,” he urges. “I need to know that if you’re ever like that again you won’t think you’re alone. I don’t care if I’m on a run, over the border, or what the fuck ever, I’ll drop anything I’m doing and be with you if that’s what you need.”

Mia licks her lips and closes her eyes as his thumbs brush up and down her cheeks. “I promise,” she whispers and feels him move so his lips touch her forehead.

“My name,” he says a moment later and Mia opens her eyes and crinkles her eyebrows together questioningly. “I don’t need a kink nickname or whatever. I like it when you call me osito but when I’m pleasuring you, when you’re pleading for more, I love it when you call me my name.”

“I can do that,” she agrees and presses her lips against his. At first, it’s soft and sweet, but quickly becomes more demanding with their tongues touching.

Angel’s thumb pushes on her windpipe as he pulls his lips from hers. “I thought you said twenty-four hours minimum?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Mia whispers and scoots down his legs until his growing hard-on is visible. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help you out. After all, I got what, six orgasms last night? And you only came once.”

“Mm, do you have any idea how hard I came after you squirted all over me?” he asks, a hand still resting at the hollow of her throat, squeezing slightly at times, and rubbing the sensitive skin at others.

Mia swallows, hard, and Angel smiles at her in a way that makes her stomach coil.

“Your heart is beating very fast, mi dulce,” he comments. “I wonder where else you can feel it beat?” he asks as his free hand slides down her bare body until it’s between her legs. “Let’s see how sensitive you still are, hm?”

One finger sinks in and Mia tilts her head back because she’s still so tender, but before anything else can happen Angel’s bedroom door opens.

“Angel, you awa—holy shit, yes you are,” EZ walks in saying, but all Mia registers is Angel practically throwing her behind him and covering her up so all she can see is his tatted back.

“What the fuck, Ezekiel?” Angel demands of his little brother. “Ever heard of fucking knocking?”

“I did knock!” EZ insists. “On your front door, but now I can see why you didn’t hear it. Hi, Mia.”

She doesn’t respond, just lifts an arm to wave, for which she’s given a chuckle from both brothers.

“I can see you’re busy, I just stopped by to talk. Maybe we can meet up later—”

“No,” Mia speaks up, causing Angel to turn and look down at her with questioning eyes. “You can stay, I have to get going anyways. My interview is in a couple hours and I need to get ready,” she says while giving her best friend a look, hoping he remembers what today is, the conversation they started not even an hour ago.

Angel closes his eyes in realization. “Yeah, stay, baby brother,” he insists and turns to look back at him. “We got time before templo unless you have a yard shift or something.”

“Nah, nah, I’m free. Maybe we can get breakfast?” EZ suggests, a softness in his voice she’s never heard before. He definitely remembers what today is.

“Yeah, at the diner, like we used to when I made you skip the first hour of school,” Angel agrees.

“You mean when you refused to go to your first class because—”

“Let’s not get into that,” his big brother cuts him off. “But, uh, this ain’t a free show, so go wait in the living room so we can get dressed.”

“Fine, fine,” EZ mumbles. “I’ll tell you all about it later, Mia,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

“Thank you!” Mia replies, only sitting up once she hears the door click shut. “So why’d you skip the first hour of school? Unless you’d rather me hear it from EZ later?”

Angel shakes his head and smiles at her while getting up, giving her an excellent view of his naked ass. “Let’s see what he tells you, then I’ll tell you if it’s true or bull, yeah?”

She watches him step into a pair of his underwear, a pair of briefs that hugs him just right, making her bite her lip. “Too bad he didn’t walk in thirty minutes later,” she sighs and shoves the blankets off as she stretches.

Angel grins and tosses underwear at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you later, after you kill it at your job interview,” he promises with wagging eyebrows.

“Yeah, after,” Mia mumbles, then busies herself with slipping her cheeky underwear up her legs as her eyes scan the floor for other clothes. “Fuck, Angel,” she groans as two things hit her at the same time.

“What?” he asks while hopping into a pair of jeans.

“Do you think he’ll tell? I mean, Bop is his sponsor and—”

Angel shakes his head and bends down in front of her. “Hey, don’t worry about that. He won’t say nothin’, I’ll make sure of it. He’s been keeping secrets for me all his life, he’ll keep this one too,” he assures her.

“You mean like the reason you kept him out of school for the first hour during your senior year?” Mia questions with big, innocent eyes.

He rolls his eyes and gives her a knowing grin. “I was messing with this girl over the summer, nothing serious. Because it wasn’t serious I was also gettin’ somewhere with another girl, turns out they were cousins, and were both in my first class,” he explains. “It got pretty ugly first day, so I made myself scarce and got some teammates from football to ask them out. When the smoke was clear I stopped skipping class. Good thing too, my mom was about to kick my ass if she got one more call about either of us missing class.”

“You’re lucky they never found out you made your friends date them.”

“Hey, I didn’t make them date anyone long term. I asked them to take them out once, maybe twice, get their attention elsewhere,” Angel insists. “It worked out for one of ‘em. Dated my friend until graduation.”

“Mmhm.”

“Uh-huh, get dressed before EZ walks in on us again,” he instructs. “I can think of a couple things I like your mouth doing more than giving me shit.”

“About that first part,” Mia starts and stands before him, remembering her second thought earlier. “You started undressing me as soon as we walked in the door, Reyes. We’re lucky my underwear is even in here,” she says. “So unless you do want your little brother to see my goods, or maybe show him what my mouth can do—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Angel sighs while grabbing a t-shirt. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

While he goes to get the rest of her clothes, Mia goes to the bathroom to pee and do something with her hair. She’s putting it up in a messy bun when she walks back into the bedroom, fully expecting Angel to be back with her stuff, but he isn’t.

With a sigh she grabs one of Angel’s button ups and slips out of the bedroom. “What’s taking so long? It can’t be that hard to find—fuck!” Mia exclaims, ducking behind the kitchen counter, which is the only thing blocking her from view of the living room, where not only do Angel and EZ stand, but Coco and Gilly too.

“I fucking knew it!” Coco boasts, his voice full of glee.

The boys around him join in the laughter and she can feel her face getting hot. She hasn’t done the walk of shame in years. And these guys are never going to let her live it down.

“You didn’t know shit. Now, pendejos, get the fuck out,” Angel orders and she hears the front door open.

“Nah, I did, you’ve been in a good mood for way too fuckin’ long,” Coco insists. “You ain’t been in the cage in over two months, carnal, you think we don’t notice this shit?”

“Yeah, we ain’t never seen you this well tempered,” Gilly agrees.

Curious, Mia stands up, the shirt now fully buttoned. “What do you mean, he hasn’t been in the cage?”

“Nothing, I—”

“He’s the reigning champ of our cage, he never tell you that?” Coco cuts Angel off. “You’ve been selling yourself short to your girl? That’s not like you, bro.”

“I haven’t been—”

“We open up the fights in the cage to the town and put some money on it. Usually, every month or so we have a fight. Angel is the one who puts the feelers out, is the one itchin’ for a fight, and he always fuckin’ wins. This dude has rage like a fuckin’ beast,” Coco fills her in, ignoring Angel once more. “But he hasn’t since you moved here, and now we know why. Getting laid on the reg really calms you down, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve always been able to get laid,” Angel says, then makes a face. “Uh, you know what I mean, we’re not just,” he starts to defend himself. “She and I aren’t just, like, we’re also,” he stops and clears his throat. “A little help here?”

Mia grins and leans on the counter. “No, I like where you’re going with this. Please, keep making absolutely no sense.”

“You’re just as much of an asshole as they are,” he mumbles, making the room laugh some more.

“Yes, I am, and if someone could just toss me my clothes I can get out of your hair so the real ridicule can begin once I’m gone,” she offers.

“What a team player, you finally slept with a good one, bro,” Gilly comments while nudging Angel with his shoulder.

“Why are you guys even here?” Angel whines while reaching under a pillow on the couch, revealing her clothes in their apparent hiding spot. “Here, I don’t want you to be late,” he adds, and gives them to her.

“Thanks,” Mia says and leaves the kitchen with a wink.

“Saw Boy Scout’s bike parked next to yours, then on further inspection, Mia’s car in your free spot,” Coco answers as she is walking away. “Got curious.”

She trusts Angel to answer their questions, or dodge them, more like, but still dresses quickly all the same.

When she gets back to the living room, the guys are all sitting down, smoke now in the air. “Aw, well I’m glad everyone kissed and made up. Wouldn’t want to break up the band. No one wants to be Yoko, you know,” she mentions while putting her shoes on.

“Nah, they’re still fucking annoying,” Angel says. “But they know too much, you know how it is.”

Mia smiles and shakes her head at him. “Alright, the secret’s out, me and Angel are sleeping together, but can you keep the mocking for when the wisemen aren’t around?”

“The what now?” Gilly asks.

“The three wisemen—Bishop, Taza, and Hank,” she explains. “It what me and Letty call them, you know, because they are the only ones with a clue.”

“That’s fucking clever,” EZ remarks in a chuckle.

“Thank you. Listen, I put Bishop through hell when I was with Esai, and I don’t need—”

“Wait, Esai Alvarez, Esai?” Coco cuts her off. “You fucked around with Esai Alvarez?”

“Fucked around, dated, exploded, repeat, whatever,” she answers with a shrug. “The point is, I keep Bishop out of my personal shit, he does the same, and I don’t need him worrying about me, or this, or doing any other protective dad stuff, okay?”

“Wait, that tattoo he told me to shut the fuck up about—”

“Yes, that’s me, I am the one that got away, it’s all very telenovela,” she stops Gilly. “Now, are we all on the same page?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be good in front of daddy,” Coco promises with smoke coming out of his mouth.

“Great,” Mia says with a smile. “I hope you all have a great day teasing Angel, but I gotta get going.”

“I’ll walk you out real quick,” Angel says as he stands.

“Wow, never seen my brother this chivalrous,” EZ comments, then winces once Angel kicks him in the shin on his way out of the door.

Angel waits until they are at the top of the steps to talk. “Don’t worry about them, I’ll make sure they behave,” he promises, then thinks about it. “To the best of their ability, anyways.”

Mia nods and bites her lip as they go down the stairs. “I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing or anything, you know that, right?”

He leans against her car once they reach it and seems to study her face for a moment. “I do, still nice to hear,” he decides on saying. “I really don’t need my president knowing I’m fucking his daughter either. Shit can be complicated enough in the club, I don’t need that hanging over me.”

“You still worried about EZ?” she questions, her voice soft.

Angel lets out a long sigh. “Yeah, but… he came to me and didn’t go off and do something stupid, that’s gotta be good, right?”

“Well, if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” she teases, making him chuckle. “Let me know how breakfast goes. Are all you going or—”

“Nah, Gilly and Coco gotta open the yard, they’re leaving a little bit after you,” he cuts her off. “Gotta take the time to ask their questions without you around.”

“Oh, of course, make sure you tell them I’m the best you’ve ever had,” she insists.

“I’m sorry, who was the one that ugly cried and squirted last night—ow!” he laughs when she hits him. “You know how much I love your pussy, don’t worry, mi dulce.”

“Please, I have more important things to worry about,” she says while opening her car door.

Angel pulls her close by her hips. “Like your interview? You know you’re gonna crush it.”

Mia looks down and nods. “Yeah.”

“I know it was pushed back a few times, but that ain’t got shit to do with you. Gracie is always busy, she’s gonna be lucky to have you, you’ll take some shit off her plate,” he goes on.

She shrugs. “I haven’t worked as a nurse in over a year,” she reminds him. “Just nervous, I guess.”

“Want me to set up a fight? You can take care of me after, freshen up some of your skills,” he offers.

“No, but I do want to talk about that later,” Mia says. “I mean, you can fight if you want, but don’t do it on my account.”

Angel lifts her chin with a curled finger. “You’re gonna do great. Even if you’re rusty, you’ll pick it back up and kick ass. I’ve never seen you fail at something, querida, you ain’t gonna start now.”

She wants to laugh at him, at how wrong he is, but she just smiles appreciatively and kisses him.

“Besides, it’s gotta happen to today. If it got pushed again, Bishop said he was gonna talk to Gracie,” he mentions.

“He needs to stay out of my business. It’s my job, my interview,” Mia insists.

“He’s your dad, he worries,” he reminds her. “Can’t be mad about that.”

“I’m not, I just,” she stops and sighs. “I can handle my own, he needs to remember that.” She kisses him once more and steps out of his hold. “I’ll call you after, let you know what’s up.”

“Counting on it,” he tells her and watches her get in the car.

She starts the car and puts down the window as Angel closes the door. “You boys be good today.”

“That I can’t promise, and you know it,” he says and they both laugh before he starts back for his apartment building.

She waits until he’s back up the steps before banging her head against the steering wheel a few times.

It’s official, she can’t push it off any longer, she has to go to this nursing interview today. She’s made Gracie look bad already by saying she’s the one who pushed back the interview, when it was actually her. The last thing she needs is Bishop going to Gracie and learning the truth, that will open a can of worms she’s tried to keep nailed shut.

There can be no questions about why she really came here, why she’s so reluctant to take a job that is legit. Sure, she’s been making money helping out bartending at the clubhouse and doing some bookwork at the yard, but it’s not nearly enough for what she needs to start paying Bishop a decent price in rent.

She needs a legit job with real income, even if it means attaching her name to a file that will leave a trail. A trail that could lead Jay right to her if he’s looking.

Mia bangs her head a few more times before putting the car in reverse.

She isn’t ready to stop hiding, but it looks like she doesn’t have a choice, not unless she tells Bishop the truth, and that is not an option. Not even for a second, which means she has a job interview to get ready for. A job she’s unlikely to get because she cancelled on the woman twice with little explanation or apology.

Just fucking great, she thinks, as she drives off, her hands already sweaty at the thought of stepping out of the shadows and into the light.

Her outfit is all wrong.

It’s all she can think about as she walks into the ER, as instructed, holding a folder full of papers close to her chest.

Mia sees herself in the glass windows—a black skirt, the longest one she owns, but it still doesn’t go past her knees, with a white top that’s too tight and tucked into the skirt. It’s a button down that is closed up to her neck, but she still isn’t happy with it. Her hair is half up, half down and in it’s natural state of loose curls, she kept the make up light, and matched it with a pair of simple black heels.

She wants to turn around and leave, to walk out of the building and get in her car and drive far, far away, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she walks right up to the admit desk in her completely wrong outfit and forces a smile. “Hi, I’m looking for Gracie—”

“Sanchez,” a woman says from behind and she turns to find, Gracie, she assumes, dressed in a pair of jeans that make her legs look great, a pink scrub top, and comfortable white shoes. “Charge nurse, you must be Mia Flores.”

“Yes, hi, nice to meet you,” Mia greets with a hand out, and watches as the woman looks her up and down very thoroughly. For some reason, it makes her very aware of the small hoop earrings hanging from her lobes and the black choker around her neck.

She is so not getting this job.

“Yes, it is, especially since I had planned to meet you, what, two weeks ago now?” Gracie questions.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just moved here—”

“Follow me,” the nurse cuts her off and leads her to what she knows is the breakroom, but it is thankfully empty at the moment. “Take a seat. Drink?” she asks with quarters in her hand and shakes them in offering.

“No thanks,” Mia answers and sits, making sure to smooth out her skirt and cross her legs appropriately.

“Suit yourself,” she replies and moments later a glass Coke is in her hands. “So, Flores is the last name, correct? Went with your mom’s?” she questions while sitting down across from her.

“Um, no,” Mia says and shifts awkwardly. “Why do you—”

“Oh, I don’t need these, I had your files pulled from your previous employer,” Gracie tells her while taking the folder from her and sets them off to the side. “It’s surprising is all, I figured you’d have Bishop’s last name.”

Realization washes over her. “Oh, no. Bishop is my godfather. He and my dad were best friends, and when he died Bishop stepped in. He’s my father in every way besides blood,” she explains.

For the first time, Gracie smiles. “I knew he had a heart buried in that chest somewhere,” she comments.

“That he does,” Mia agrees, and matches the woman’s smile. “It only really comes out when me or my mom around, but he has one, that’s for sure.”

“He paid a visit to my shelter about four days ago,” Gracie informs her. “I’m sure you know about my side work at the shelter.”

Dread fills her. “Um, I know about the shelter, I did not know he went to see you. I’m sorry if he was—”

“Brash? Demanding? Pushy?”

“Yes, to all three,” she answers. “Look, I can explain—”

“Don’t worry, I went along with your lie,” Gracie says. “Told him I’ve been busy here and at the shelter, but that it wouldn’t happen again. To be honest, I was more curious than anything, wanted to know what I was made be part of.”

Mia tries to still her shaking hands. “We don’t have to go through this whole game of back and forth. I’m obviously not getting the job, and honestly, I don’t deserve it after how unprofessional I’ve been. I can just tell Bishop the spot was filled.”

“Oh, it is,” Gracie confirms. “I needed two ER nurses when you first applied, but I filled the last spot after you cancelled the last time.”

“Then why am I even here?” Mia asks as she feels heat rise from her chest.

“I told you, I’m curious,” the older woman says.

At this, Mia stands. “Okay, I don’t have time for this game. I’m sorry I wasted your time, or maybe you wasted mine, I don’t know—”

“There she is,” Gracie cuts her off once more with a smile.

“Excuse me?”

“Bishop’s daughter,” she answers. “And I said that the position you applied for is filled, not that I still couldn’t use you,” she corrects herself. “Now, please, sit.”

Mia sits and relaxes a bit in the plastic chair. “I really am sorry I made you look bad. That wasn’t my intention.”

“I’ve been made to look a lot worse, believe me,” she replies. “So, do you want to tell me the real reason you cancelled on me twice or do I have to guess?”

“I haven’t worked as a nurse in over a year,” Mia starts with honesty. “I actually haven’t had a real job in the same amount of time. I let my nerves get the better of me.”

“I talked to your last charge nurse,” Gracie tells her. “Miriam? Nice old gal. She couldn’t stop gushing about you,” she goes on. “That is, until your boyfriend came into the picture.”

Mia’s back straightens. “Ex. Ex-boyfriend,” she corrects.

“Right. She said you were one of the best nurses she had. You did very well under pressure, always kept a level head, you were the first one in on your shift, and often the last one out,” the charge nurse goes on. “Said you were great with patients, at keeping kids happy if needed, and had absolutely no issue knocking unruly men down a couple pegs.”

“Miriam is a very nice woman,” Mia agrees. “But earning her praise wasn’t easy.”

“Well, she had nothing but praise for you, until the boyfriend came in the picture,” Gracie insists.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Mia says again.

“Right,” she repeats. “She said once he came in the picture you were often late, always looking at the clock, the first to leave if there were any cuts, that he liked to stop by during your shifts and was not well liked among your peers.”

“About that—”

“She saw quite a few changes in you, said when she tried to get you to talk about it you quit,” she continues. “Me and Miriam had quite the conversation.”

“Seems so,” Mia says with a tight smile.

Gracie sits back in her chair and stares at her for a long minute. “Does Bishop know?”

“Does he know what? That I quit? Yes.”

“Does he know that you were seen at your own ER twice for accidents?” she asks. “Once, I think Miriam said was a fall down the stairs, and the other was tripping through a glass door?”

Mia’s stomach drops to the floor. “He and I weren’t talking for two years. Family issues.”

“Miriam had a few theories as to what really happened,” Gracie comments. “After hearing such glowing words about you, and getting Miriam’s two cents on the boyfriend, so do I.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she says in a hard tone. “I’d appreciate if you’d refer to him as such. He’s not in my life anymore,” she tells her with finality.

Gracie nods, apparently happy with her answer. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time, what happened is your secret to keep, but I need to know who I’m interviewing right now. Are you the capable, reliable woman I first heard about, or are you flighty and going to be someone I have to check on every five minutes, because I have no use for the second one.”

Mia lets out a long breath to settle the nerves in her gut. “You’re right, I do have secrets, and I’m not proud of the person I became at the end of my time at my last job. I won’t lie to you, I did those things,” she admits. “And I can promise you that the nurse you’d be hiring is the first one you described.”

“Why’d you become a nurse?” Gracie asks, her entire demeanor different from when they first sat down.

“I’m sure the safe answer is I like helping people, knowing I’m making a difference on what could easily be the worst day of their lives. I mean, no one plans on going to the ER,” she starts.

“And the unsafe answer?”

“When I was seventeen my boyfriend was shot,” she tells her. “Different boyfriend than the last one,” she adds on quickly. “You know Bishop, so you’re familiar with the club, my boyfriend at the time was in the club too, Oakland charter.”

“He live?”

Mia nods. “Yeah, the club doc came and pulled the bullet out, sewed him up,” she explains. “But I was there when he came to the clubhouse, blood soaked through his shirt, leaning hard on our friend Pac, whiter than I’d ever seen him. I’d never seen him weak before either, ever. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it because I knew nothing.”

“It’s definitely tough seeing someone you love in rough shape. Not everyone wants to do something about it, but people like us? We hate feeling helpless,” Gracie comments.

“I told myself if something else happened I’d know something. So, when I graduated high school I went into an eighteen month nursing program. Once I got through that, I was hired at St. Francis’s and then enrolled to get my bachelor’s in nursing, which I did,” she goes on. “I learned that I didn’t just like being able to do something when someone I loved was hurt, I like being able to help people in general. I did rounds in all the specialties, but preferred the ER. Maybe it’s the instant gratification, but being able to solve a problem someone has, quickly help with the situation, in whatever way I can, I love the feeling. I grew up in a fast-paced environment and the ER felt like home in that way.”

“Your file said you also volunteered at a free clinic near the neighborhood you grew up in,” Gracie mentions.

“I did,” Mia confirms. “They couldn’t afford much a staff, and some of the ones that were employed there, well… they weren’t there for the right reasons,” she tells her. “I did what I could, tried to make a difference. Sometimes it didn’t feel like much, just handing out condoms and clean needles, reading pregnancy tests, but the way I saw it,” she stops to think of her words, “I would have wanted someone like me to be around when I was young. I tried not to just be a nurse, but someone they could talk to, confide in, and for some of them I was.”

Gracie’s lips form a ghost of a smile. “I feel that way at the shelter. It’s more than just detoxing for me. It’s the first step for all those people, a step they choose to take, and it’s one of the hardest ones they’ll make. I try to help in every way I can, but between here, the clinic, and there, I’m spread too thin.”

“I didn’t know Santo Padre had a clinic too,” Mia mentions.

“We don’t. It opens next week. I secured the funding three months ago,” she answers. “The truth is I never wanted you here in the ER. I need a charge nurse at the clinic. Someone I know can handle the chaos, the good and the bad, and be eyes and ears for me in the community.”

Mia sits straighter in her chair, her curiosity peaking. “Aren’t you already really involved? Between here and the shelter?”

“I am, but I also believe in stepping in before there is a problem, if possible,” Gracie says. “Too many places are overrun, understaffed, and letting people slip through the cracks. I made a promise to this community to provide more than basic medical care. I need a staff that is willing to go above and beyond, and that all starts with management.”

“You’re willing to consider me even after I cancelled on you twice?” she questions.

“No. I was willing to consider you after you showed up today, owned up to your mistakes, and proved you’re not the same person that quit your last job,” Gracie corrects. “I read your transcripts. You were the top of your class, had multiple job opportunities in high-income areas, yet you chose a place in the city, to volunteer for a clinic in a place overrun with drugs and crime, and from what I learned from Miriam, and talking to you today, you’re a survivor. A survivor is what I need.”

Is she a survivor, she wonders? Or is she a runner, someone who knows when to quit and flee into the night? Sure, she’s survived everything life has thrown at her so far, but what if what she’s running from catches up to her? Can she promise Gracie she won’t pack up and take off? After all, she’s been doing all she can to not promise Bishop the same.

“Gracie, I—”

The woman holds up her hand to stop her. “I told you that your secret is yours to keep, and it is, but I have a feeling I know what you’re afraid of.”

“Miriam used to say nurses have superpowers. We see so many people, a lot of them keeping secrets. It was our job to see through the bullshit and treat the patient with no judgement,” Mia mentions. “That seeing through bullshit was our power.”

“I might have to steal that one,” Gracie chuckles. “Well, I’ve been a nurse long enough that I’ve fully developed my superpower, let’s say.”

All Mia can do is nod with her head hung low. “Please don’t tell Bishop. He doesn’t know anything, he can never know.”

“I’m not doing to ask for details, those are for you to offer on your own, but I do know fear,” Gracie responds. “I know what it’s like to want to leave something horrible behind you, to be so scared to turn around and find that it’s all caught up to you, to feel that everyone is seeing right through you.”

“It’s when I’m alone that it’s the worst,” she murmurs.

“I think you’re the exact right person for this job, the one I can rely on to get the job done as well as I could do it, so you let me know what you need from me to make this happen,” Gracie insists.

“I want the job, trust me I do, and I’m honored you think so highly of me after just meeting me,” Mia says honestly. “I think I can do it. I miss helping people, being part of the solution and not the problem, but,” she stops.

“This is the part where I come in. What can I do to make you feel comfortable?”

“I’ve been off the grid, so to speak, since I moved here. I don’t have anything attached to my name. I’m on Bishop’s phone plan, live in his rental rent free, for now, his name is on the utilities, I have no social media, nothing. I’m worried—”

“By taking this job you’ll be able to be followed,” Gracie pieces together. “Miriam was right, seeing through bullshit is our superpower, but it’s only one of them. You want to know what another one of them is? Making things happen,” she says and Mia looks at her with wide eyes. “Hunny, I’m the charge nurse, run the shelter, and managed to cut through enough red tape to not only open a free clinic, but also scored enough funding to run it for the first year. I know the tricks of the trade.”

“Tricks like keeping me off the books, but still paying me?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, ma’am, when do I start?”

“How about in two hours?” Gracie asks.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, that should be enough time for you to go get something to eat and change, right?”

“Change?” Mia questions.

Gracie stands. “Yep. We’ll meet at the clinic in two hours. We have a few interviews to do and some set-up to finish. After all, you open up Monday at eight AM,” she says. “Unless you want to do manual labor in that.”

“I only need one hour,” Mia counters and Gracie gives her a smile.

“That’s what I like to hear, let’s get started.”

TAGLIST:

@starrynite7114 @joalsglasses @mrsamaroevans @justahopelessssromantic @mrsjaxtellerfan @rosieposie0624 @luckyharley1903 @miss-nori85 @proudlittlewitchbitch @thesandbeneathmytoes

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!!!

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

SOOO Gracie (aka the doc/vet? from season 1 at the shelter) is going to be in this story. I write a preface about this because upon research for her character I learned the actress is trans and BEAUTIFUL. Of course, I am NOT taking that away from her, so her character IS trans. It is not mentioned in this chapter, but will be spoke about later. However, because I am not at all a fountain of knowledge on this subject, nor would I ever claim to be, I am going to tread lightly. I have done further research, but will keep the details light because she is not a main character even though I wish she was on the show because I've decided I love her and she deserved more than 2 minutes on screen. There was a STORY there, am I right?

#fanfiction #mayans mc #angel reyes #angel reyes x latina!oc #friends can break your heart too #chapter 4 #angel reyes x mia flores

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missmitchieg · 3 years

Text

The Rainbow Brigade Goes To Pride

Julie giggled into the microphone as she watched her best friends jump and dance along to their song, draping an arm around her boyfriend's shoulder as they belted the outro and Bright ended.

"Yes! That was amazing!" Flynn grinned, always the one to hype up their best friend.

"But was it 'performing at a cafe' amazing, or 'performing at tomorrow's Pride parade' amazing?" Julie asked, and Luke rolled his eyes fondly and reached up to tuck a curl behind Julie's ear.

"Definitely 'Pride parade' amazing, estrella." He promised her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Julie blushed and scrunched her nose as Alex, Reggie, Bobby, Willie, Nick, Carrie and the Dirty Candy crew immediately agreed.

"I'm a much harsher judge than your darling Luke, and I can confirm it was flawless." Carrie assured Julie with a grin.

Julie chuckled fondly and shook her head, rolling her eyes. "If you all insist."

"We do. Now," Willie clapped their hands, clasping them together. "I request to hear Now Or Never."

"Ooh, I second the request!" Carrie nodded.

"Third!"

"Fourth!"

"Your wish is our command." Luke smiled and Alex counted to start the song, everyone smiling as Ray walked in with a snack and water tray.

"Hey, kids."

"Hi, Mr. Molina!"

"Hi, papa!"

Ray grinned as he walked through the door in time to catch a song and leaned against the wall, lip syncing along.

Julie and the boys rehearsed the song and stopped for a water break, chatting about how excited they all were to be performing at something as big as a Pride parade. It was a pretty damn huge thing for everyone.

No one slept that night, too wired to even think about it.

Julie grinned as she looked up and turned off her phone alarm, running to open Carlos and her parents' bedroom doors. "Happy Pride!" She grinned as she ran back to her room and opened her laptop to Zoom. Soon, she had Flynn, Willie, Nick, Carrie, her girls, and her boys on screen as she ran to grab her hair products. "Hey, my people!"

"Hey, superstar! Boys. Rapunzel. Blond Troy Bolton. Twilight Sparkle. Biliam. Flynnigan. Candy Stripers." Luke grinned and blew a kiss, in the middle of changing into his POISON t shirt.

"Hey, Julianna! Lucas. Alexander. Robert. William. Nicholas. Caroline. Flynnie. Crew." Reggie grinned as he combed his hair and waved.

"Hi, Julie! Ladies. Love of my life. Boys. Willie-boo." Carrie grinned as she brushed her wig out to re-curl it later.

"Hey, Jules! Sweets. Gigi. Lexi. Lulu. Chaos crew." Bobby winked as he sprayed on deodorant.

"Hi, Julie! Candy canes. Boys. Partners in crime." Flynn smiled, braiding pink, white and orange ribbon into their hair.

"Hello, Julie. Luke. Reginald. Bobbles. Flynn-tastic. Care-bear. Nicky. Honeybunch. Candy fruits." Alex smiled before downing a glass of orange juice.

"Hey, Julie! Hot dog. PeterPatter. Chaos siblings. Sweethearts." Willie waved, braiding rainbow ribbons into his hair.

"Julie. Ladies. Boys. Enby buds." Nick waved, combing his hair.

"Julie. Ladies. Men. Non-binary friends." Kayla blew a kiss, popping a gummy vitamin in her mouth.

"Hi, Julie! Candy crew. Chaos children." Halle grinned, brushing the bangs of her wig.

"Hey, my darlings!" Sofia grinned, waving as she nibbled on her toast.

"Hi, gayngels!" Kyra giggled, flipping her pancakes.

"How are the members of The Rainbow Brigade on this fine day, my loves?" Julie asked as she combed her curls. She laughed as everyone started to answer the question at the same time, resuming her hair combing.

"All good here, Julie." Flynn answered once she stopped giggling.

"Here as well." Willie gave a thumbs up.

"Almost perfect but I'm all out of eyeliner." Reggie pouted.

"Oh, no! You can use mine, then." Julie promised.

"Sweet! Thanks, Jules." Reggie grinned gratefully.

"About as good as it's gonna get in the Patterson household." Luke shrugged. "Sparkle, Bobble?"

"All is well in the Wilson mansion, loves." Carrie grinned, looking up when she heard a knock on the door. "Yeah, daddy?" She asked once she opened it.

"Hi, baby. Hi, kids!" Trevor grinned and waved.

"Hi, Mr. Wilson!" Julie called and everyone else followed.

"So remind me of the carpooling situation?"

"Oh, we're gonna pick up my girls and Luke, Alex, and Reggie since their parents still dislike Luke and Bobby for 'corrupting their babies' and Nick only has room in his car to pick up Flynn and Willie and we're all going to Julie's to get ready together."

"Oh, ok. I'm gonna go pack all our bags with snacks and water, then. Breakfast is almost ready downstairs." Trevor smiled, walking out with a peace sign.

"Thanks for the ride, by the way." Reggie smiled.

"Hey, anything for my Gigi." Bobby promised.

Julie giggled, bringing her laptop downstairs to the kitchen where everyone was eating breakfast. "Hey, Carlos. Mom, dad! Say hey to the rainbow brigade!"

"Hey, brigade!"

"Hey, mijos, mijas." Ray grinned.

"Hey, babies!" Rose blew a quick kiss.

"Hi, Carlos! Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Molina! Looking good as always!"

"Thank you, Carrie. Julie, do you want some eggs? They're scrambled."

"Ooh, yes please." Julie nodded and then a plate of eggs, toast and pancakes appeared in front of her. "Gracias, mama."

"Mind saving some eggs for me, amor?"

"Always, cariño."

Luke smiled appreciatively and blushed. "I love you."

Julie smiled, scrunching her nose. "I love you, too."

"Hey, hey. Keep your nauseating adorable-ness to your private Skype sessions." Reggie pretended to gag.

Carrie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Like you and my brother don't act the same way." She pointed out.

"So do you and Flynn!" Willie accused.

"Willie, so do you and Lexi!" Flynn laughed.

"I would like to point out that so do Halle and Sofia." Nick chimed in.

"True." Kayla nodded in agreement.

"OK, anyone coming over for dinner tonight, niños? I'm making my famous pastelon!" Rose piped up as she appeared next to Julie and wrapped an arm around her, the both of them laughing.

Flynn raised a hand immediately. "Ooh, I'm in! Mom said she's gonna try another duck recipe and my stomach can't take that."

"Me, too!" Alex nodded.

"Noted." Julie nodded.

"Bobins, Care-bear, can I go to your place tonight? I'm not feeling up to week-old left overs." Reggie asked.

Bobby opened his door and poked his head out. "Dad, can Reggie come for dinner tonight? ...OK!" He closed the door with a smile. "Yup."

The group laughed as they chatted and ate their breakfasts, moving their conversation to the group chat as the others made their ways to the Molina household. The groups piled out of their cars and headed inside, greeting Julie and her family with tight hugs.

"Hey, my love." Luke said in a gentle voice and pressed a kiss to her forehead, making Julie blush and scrunch her nose.

"Hi, Lucas." Julie said softly and kissed his lips, giggling against him when she heard fake gags from Alex and Reggie. "Hi, Lexi-love. Reggie boo." She said as she wrapped her arms around them, taking their bags of clothes.

"Here's your eggs, mijo."

Luke grinned as Ray presented him a plate of eggs and some waffles as a treat. "Thank you." He nodded and started eating, leaning against a wall.

"Do I see new earrings, Mrs. Molina?" Carrie asked with a grin.

"Uh-huh. You like them?" Rose grinned, showing off her turquoise earrings.

"Love! They're so pretty!" Carrie nodded.

Julie smiled as she looked around and watched her family and her found family get along so well, joking and laughing with each other. She leaned her head onto Flynn's shoulder, her smile growing when Flynn wrapped an arm around her. "Having a good time, Flynnie?"

"Absolute blast."

After Luke finished his eggs, the group stampeded upstairs and formed a line to the bathroom to change into their Pride outfits. One by one, the brigade stepped in and out in new outfits and walked to the garage to have more room to start doing their make up.

Julie hummed as she and Reggie did their eyeliner next to each other, half listening to the boys talking about how cool it was that they were singing certain songs together for the first time.

"Sunset Curve's fans are gonna get to hear our oldest hits belted out by a little wrecking ball of talent, boys! It's only the single most exciting and awesome thing that can possibly happen!" Luke bragged in excitement, huffing as he was held down in his chair and Flynn and Carrie were glittering up his face.

"I know! Dude, it's so cool!" Alex nodded, glittering up his own face. "And it's even better that it's a- Kayla, your left wing's bigger." He interrupted himself to point to Kayla's make up. "A Pride parade!"

"Oh, shoot. Thanks, Lexi." Kayla smiled and proceeded to fix it with concealer.

"And you're totally gonna come out of this with new fans, too! Think of all the people that are gonna film it for YouTube and so many people are going to watch!" Willie gushed.

"I know!" Bobby nodded and pressed a kiss to Reggie's cheek, applying black eye shadow to his eyes.

"And imagine how much Dirty Candy are gonna love watching you all sing at Pride, too!" Julie grinned. "Maybe then they'll get the whole sparkly rainbow costumes thing."

"Oh, yeah!" The group laughed as they finished glittering up and fixing wigs, and piled into their cars to go to the parade.

Dirty Candy performed a few of their favorite self love songs to the crowd and gave a few speeches about self love, acceptance and Pride to the crowd, getting the response of cheers and pride flags thrown their ways. The girls individually thanked the crowd, and Carrie glanced off stage toward Sunset Curve before announcing the next artist. "And now, a group that always has been and always will be very special to me and my girls, and not just because they're our best friends... Sunset Curve!"

The crowd erupted in screams as the girls stepped off to let the band take the stage, and Luke smiled at them, giving a playful wink to a few boys and girls in the front holding bi and pan pride flags.

"Hi, everybody! Happy Pride month!" Julie greeted, her pink, purple and blue dress sparkling in the sunlight. "How about our girls, Dirty Candy, huh?" She chuckled as the crowd screamed in agreement and glanced at Bobby, who just smiled.

"The pink one is my sister."

"And they are too powerful together." Luke joked.

"They're so much to handle." Reggie complained with a smile.

"You say that like you and Julie aren't a lot." Alex deadpanned.

Julie laughed and shook her head. "Ok, ok. Enough joking. So our first song of the day is called Edge Of Great." She announced, and the crowd screamed and started to throw flags as she sang the intro. As the boys joined in the chorus, Julie hopped and ran around, laughing and joking with the boys.

Reggie and Bobby laughed as Julie hopped around them and draped bi and ace flags around their necks.

Julie giggled and bopped their noses, skipping off to share the mic with Luke. She kissed him at the end of the song and smiled when the crowd started chanting their ship name, leaning her head on his neck. "Yeah, yeah. We get it. We're cute." She joked and Luke cackled.

"You are pretty cute." Alex agreed with a shrug.

Julie snickered and blew a kiss to Alex who threw one back and sighed, giving Luke another kiss on the cheek before launching into a speech about pride featuring comments here and there from the boys. "Boys, what do you say to Stand Tall?" She asked.

"I say yes."

"Definitely."

"Absolutely."

"Obviously."

"Well, that's a unanimous yes!" Julie announced and headed to the piano to play the song. She smiled as she played one of her favorite songs, skipping her way toward Alex as his solo came up. She draped a rainbow flag over his shoulders like a cape and kissed his cheek.

Alex whispered a quick "Love you, Julie." in her ear and she whispered "I love you." back, tapping his cheek before the group nailed the high note.

They sang the final chorus and this time it was Luke who kicked off a speech about doing what makes you happy, with Julie making a comment about Alex dating Willie even with his staunch Christian parents.

"Willie's actually here today. He's right over there." Julie pointed a thumb in the direction of Willie who blew a kiss at Alex. "Alex's parents aren't great, but Willie's grandparents are pretty cool." She chuckled.

"And that's Julie's best friend and Carrie's girlfriend, Flynn is right next to him." Reggie piped up. "Hey, Flynn."

Julie beamed as she walked toward Bobby and put an arm around him. "So this is a song is one that my boys wrote together, before I came into the picture, that they have so graciously transposed into my key so we can all sing it together-"

"Because we love you!" Bobby interrupted.

"And your voice is incredible!" Alex yelled.

"And we wanted to include you!" Luke insisted.

"Yeah, what they said. Love you, Julie." Reggie grinned.

"I love you, too." Julie grinned, looking back at her boys. "So that we can sing it together because of what it means to all of us. It's all about being free and being yourself. It's about having pride in who you are. It's called Finally Free."

The crowd erupted in cheers as Julie started to sing, leaning her head on Bobby's shoulder. She looked up as they hit the chorus and sprinted toward Luke, singing to him as Reggie shared Bobby's mic.

They sang through a few more Sunset Curve songs, the crowd screaming along to every one of them with speeches thrown in between a few songs, before it was nearly time to go. "Our last song of the day-" Julie cut herself off to giggle as the crowd awww'd and booed at her words, shaking her head. "I know! I know! We're sad about it, too." She joked and pouted. "Our last song is very special to me and my boys. It's about going for what you want, dreaming your dreams, and living. Like. It's Now Or Never."

Boos turned into cheers as the band started to play the song and Luke and Julie sang the opening lyrics together, the both of them looking up when they felt raindrops. They looked at each other with twin smirks and nodded, kicking and jumping into the puddles.

Julie giggled as she kicked a puddle in Reggie's direction and he laughed and kicked it back at her, neither of them caring about their make up or body glitter anymore.

Alex laughed through singing his harmonies with the boys, the rainwater bouncing off his drums with every hit.

Bobby and Reggie were once again sharing a microphone as they kicked puddles in Alex's direction and shook the water from their hair, glitter falling away with the water drops.

Luke laughed as he ran toward Alex's drums set and jumped onto the drum platform, wagging his tongue at his best friend.

Julie giggled as she hopped in a puddle and belted out her new solo of a second pre-chorus, bouncing her way toward Bobby while Reggie and Luke ran toward Alex.

Bobby chuckled as he and Julie did their new dance, specially choreographed just for them to do during Alex and Reggie's solos in Now Or Never: Hop twice, left step back, right step back, right step forward, hop once, high five.

Julie whooped as Reggie shouted the lyric about singing in the rain, and held her microphone out to the crowd to sing with her, holding up a fist as everyone screamed the final chorus. She sang the final line in harmony with the boys and the crowd cheered as they waved and took each other's hands, running off stage. She ran straight into the arms of her family, mentally placing this day up high in The Top Ten Best Days Of Her Life.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #alex molina #reggie molina #bobby wilson #luke patterson #Willie #Flynn #sunset curve #carrie wilson #kayla evans mckessie #kyra leroux #sofia khachi #halle gall #dirty candy #jatp fanfic

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amateurasstrologer · 4 years

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THE PLANETS #3 MERCURY (IN THE HOUSES)

Sweet Mercury. Our baby celestial, dying to be understood. There’s more to little Mercury than meets the eye, so listen up.

If you take only one thing away from this shit, let it be this: Mercury represents an internal process - where Mercury falls points towards where you’re using your brain. Bullshit Astrology will try to convince you that Mercury shows how you communicate and how you express yourself. Yes, but also no. Don’t succumb to this basic ass understanding, people!! Mercury is deeper than this - literally. Mercury gathers up the goods and sets up shop inside your mf brain. Yes, communication and your ability to small talk stem from your thought process, but all that shit is secondary. Stick to the primary source you little history babies.

The best way to think about Mercury is to think about Venus. These two are peas in a damn pod. Why? They’re both judgemental. But. While Venus is your typical mean girl, Mercury just sticks to the fucking facts.

For example, take this given: the sky is blue. Mercury looks at the situation and says: okay, the sky is blue, the sky is not green. Venus looks at the sky and says: I love the color blue, green is fucking ugly good thing the sky isn’t green. They’re both making a judgement call, but Mercury’s call is a purely objective understanding, and Venus’s is based on a personal preference. Mercury sits in your brain and helps you differentiate between this and that; Venus sits wherever tf she sits and helps you respond emotionally to shit that you value.

Put another way: why does Mercury rule Gemini and Virgo? Judgement calls. Gemini is all about you discovering yourself. The Mercury influence there helps you differentiate between “you” and “not you” - Gemini goes out and does all these things to figure out who it even is and Mercury is behind the curtain going, “yes, you hit on something real there,” and “no, that wasn’t really you bitch, drop the act.” Same shit is happening with Virgo. Virgo is all about self-improvement - we need Mercury behind the scenes, making the “yes, this will move us forward” or “no, this will set us back” decision or else we aren’t improving shit. A Mercury judgement is objective - it takes in all the facts and makes a call. It’s not personal, it’s all business.

Mercury represents how we understand the world, mentally. Mercury is the sweet little computer in our brain that’s taking stock and running metrics and not giving a fuck because there are no feelings involved in Mercury’s process. Mercury is black and white, yes and no, this and that. No in-between. The only time Mercury goes from “right on” to “completely wrong,” is when it trades in objective analysis for personal taste. Stop. Leave the feelings to Venus. Mercury works best when it’s calm, cool and collected.

As always, particulars for the party people:

MERCURY IN THE FIRST (1) YES: these sweet freaks are unleashing the beast on their inner life - every thing that has ever happened to them getting analyzed to the point of no return; they believe they’re different than everyone else and they are gonna prove it. NO: one day decided all facts were irrelevant and took up permanent residence inside their own mind, made it their job to feel intellectually superior to everyone else.

MERCURY IN THE SECOND (2) YES: these sweet freaks are testing out every belief system and mental approach ever used to solve a problem, choosing the most effective ones, and thinking their way through every challenge they come into contact with without even breaking a sweat. NO: fucking rude, totally intolerant of everyone around them, deep-throating Traditional Thinking & Outdated Values’ dick for no reason - get over it.

MERCURY IN THE THIRD (3) YES: these sweet freaks are seeing straight though your shit, because they can find patterns in everything. When they’re not fixing every problem in their vicinity with practical solutions they’re adjusting to their environment like a damn chameleon good Lord where are they are they even still here? NO: using their mega-rationality to justify gross behavior, taking zero responsibility for their actions, denial level 10000.

MERCURY IN THE FOURTH (4) YES: these sweet freaks are getting in touch with their values, and once they do look out because they will not deviate from what they feel is Right. These deep, creative minds are hot-wired to find connections between all people, places and things. NO: too scared to figure it out, falling back on thinking that’s culturally/ socially/ religiously narrow-minded, RIP to their sense of self.

MERCURY IN THE FIFTH (5) YES: these sweet freaks are getting their fucking feelings out and everyone is loving it. Their sweet little brains are made to create and they are ready to relate, no one can express themselves like these bitches. It’s just the truth. NO: can’t just have a regular fucking experience because they’re too busy thinking about how they’re gonna sell that shit later, overly self-conscious, stop it you’re doing way too much.

MERCURY IN THE SIXTH (6) YES: these sweet freaks are a whole new kinda leader - their brains are totally focused on dealing with personal changes and social issues, crystal clear thinking let’s these babies soar through emotional shit with clarity and an organized plan. NO: True Life: Living Without A Backbone, self-sabotage level 10000, lacking the inner-strength to look at their shit objectively - get it together dammit you should be fixing the world.

MERCURY IN THE SEVENTH (7) YES: these sweet freaks just have a really strong mental approach to life, they’re lookin at all kinds of shit without getting in their feelings about it, they’re out here chatting it up, down to participate in life and always open to learning from other people’s experiences. NO: took it way too far, fucked around and isolated themselves in a sweet mind prison, one day decided different viewpoints were useless and totally lost sight of reality.

MERCURY IN THE EIGHTH (8) YES: these sweet freaks fucking love relationships (of any kind, don’t have to be human-to-human) - their brains are locked in on seeing past surface level shit and into the core of their connections, working through relationship issues is their favorite pastime. NO: one day decided you weren’t trying to cooperate with them and got fucking ruthless on your ass and/or completely lack the sense of self to apply their resolution abilities, let everything go to shit, then blamed you for it.

MERCURY IN THE NINTH (9) YES: these sweet freaks worship clear thinking and objectivity, they’re fucking ready to plan and discuss their goals, your goals - all the goals all of the plans all of the values - these bitches are going to write about them, sing about them, whatever. It’s going to be real and it’s going to be good. NO: the most closed-minded to ever live, picked the wrong hill to die on, bleeding out over some shit they don’t even understand, lost in the sauce.

MERCURY IN THE TENTH (10) YES: these sweet freaks can focus (I mean, for real, they will not be deterred) and focus they will on solving complex social problems and adjusting to meet the intellectual needs of their crew. These babies are quick as a whip and got serious intellectual versatility. NO: second-guessing every decision they’ve ever made, zero accountability for their social position, completely emotionally repressed mess.

MERCURY IN THE ELEVENTH (11) YES: these sweet freaks got intellect and they are not afraid to use it (to work through all kinds of cultural issues), on the look out for other smarties to check out all those beautiful, imaginary-but-hopefully-not-for-long horizons and ponder progressive ideals with. NO: never focused a day in their life, acting clever laughing everything off but actually dying inside and refusing to do anything about it.

MERCURY IN THE TWELFTH (12) YES: these sweet freaks are flipping the script and revamping every outdated collective ideal that crosses their mind - a healthy level of seclusion let’s these babies speculate way out into the future, so that they can formulate fresh social attitudes and actions. NO: Academy Award for Victim of Their Own Self-Created Loneliness, "what’s the use” oh my God shut up already and just try to change. Just try it.

Happy Charting, bitches. Unleash your brains.

XO BULLSHIT FREE ASTROLOGY

#mercury #mercury in the houses #astrology #mercury astrology #the fast and emotionless

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meloingly · 3 years

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Giggles, Tickles and Mumbled Love Confessions.

@carlosreyesweek Day 1: “I Love You But Stop Talking” + Fluff.

Summary: Carlos is pretty sure he's as relaxed and happy as he can possibly get. He's had an easy shift, and a hot shower afterwards. He's on his sofa, wearing the fluffiest socks, the warmest sweatpants, and the comfiest hoodie. He's got puffy pillows and fuzzy blankets. There's lasagna in the oven, and "The Old Guard" is paused on the TV. And the man of his dreams has just popped through the front door right then.

Tags: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, FLUFF, ALL THE FLUFF, SO MUCH FLUFF.

Warning: None Apply.

Word Count: 2059

Beta: @lire-casander

Read on AO3

---

Carlos is pretty sure he's as relaxed and happy as he can possibly get. He's had an easy shift, and a hot shower afterwards. He's on his sofa, wearing the fluffiest socks, the warmest sweatpants, and the comfiest hoodie. He's got puffy pillows and fuzzy blankets. There's lasagna in the oven, and "The Old Guard" is paused on the TV. And the man of his dreams has just popped through the front door right then.

TK opens the door, work bag slung over his shoulder. His gaze is focused on the floor as he sets his duffle down and steps out of his shoes to arrange them by the shoe cabinet. Carlos can't help but notice the slick shine of TK's hair, a remnant of a shower TK must have taken before showing up to their apartment.

TK stands up then, stretching his arms over his head, chest expanding and abdomen flexing. The thin sliver of skin that appears under his shirt attracts Carlos' eyes. He gets so focused on the image of the pale skin - and all the marks he knows are hiding higher - that he doesn't realise TK has moved till he concentrates back on… a crotch… right in front of him.

He wipes his head up, wide eyes meeting TK's amused ones and massive smile.

"I- hi, he-hello!" he stutters, and TK's grin widens. His hand comes up to lay down on Carlos' damp curly hair.

"Hello, baby," TK breathes out.

That brings a smile to Carlos' face, even if he is feeling slightly embarrassed. And when TK bends for a kiss, Carlos finds that his embarrassment has diffused and he's left smiling too.

TK straightens then, moving away from Carlos, telling him he's going to change. Carlos gets up after him and heads to the kitchen, getting the lasagna and side dishes ready on plates and transporting them to the coffee table. By the time he's done and back on the sofa, TK is walking out of the bedroom. He stops by the threshold of the living room, hands crossed over his arms, and a teasing glint in his eyes.

Carlos looks up at TK, that sparkle making him both wary and giddy. TK doesn't pay his internal battle much heed, he looks at Carlos' twisted and crossed-legged form instead. Carlos looks down at himself too. Finding nothing out of order, he looks up at TK again and finds him focused on his face. He's about to breach the silence when TK beats him to it.

"So, what did I do to deserve this gift?"

"The… lasagna? I've cooked that before, it's not that speci-"

"Not the food, Carlos," TK interrupts him halfway through his explanation.

A confused look manifests on Carlos' face as he tries to rack his mind for what the other man could mean. When his thinking yields him nothing, he looks back at TK, the question clear in his expression. TK doesn't do much except soften a tad, lick his lips, and then mumble, "You."

Carlos feels the effects of the word and the implications behind it immediately. He feels the blood rush to his face and swears he can feel it spreading down his neck. His shoulders curl in, his knees come up, and he finds himself hiding his head between his legs before he can process the action.

TK giggles, and Carlos hears the soft padding of TK's socked feet on the wooden floor, before they get dampened even further by the carpet. He feels the sofa dip under TK's weight. And then he feels a kiss on his temple. He's about to relax and let his contracted muscles go when TK speaks up.

"Oh, I like the blush."

That sends Carlos' body on another hiding fit, something he realises his consciousness has no control over. He twists, grabbing one of the blankets that are slung on the backrest as he goes, and ends up curled on his side with half of his body covered.

TK moves with him, laughing as Carlos cowers under the flimsy fabric armour. Carlos doesn't pay him much attention, he just tucks his head deeper into the cocoon. TK shifts on top of him, and then his hands find a hole in the shield and land on Carlos' stomach.

They don't move much after that. Carlos' inhale fitting right under TK's exhale. TK's hands keep caressing Carlos' stomach and sides. The smell of the food waving through the air and surrounding them with warmth and that amazing feel of home.

TK starts to press kisses into whatever skin he can get to. Starting with the side of Carlos' arm, and then moving up to a stretch of his neck that didn't make it under the blanket. Carlos starts to relax again, but as the saying goes "fool me twice shame on me", he surely does feel the shame when he gets fooled a second time. TK gets to the highest visible point of his neck, and then says "You're pretty."

Carlos doesn't react in any way that he thinks is normal to that. He whines, turning his head further away from TK's mouth. But that doesn't deter TK.

"You're so beautiful."

Just like before, Carlos whines again, and brings his knees higher to his chest, TK's arms now held hostage between his thighs and stomach.

"You're the kindest soul I've ever gotten to know."

Carlos frowns, not that anyone can see it from under his blanket-helmet, and brings his arms up over his ears, hoping to dull the intensity of the voice and how it makes him feel.

TK doesn't speak for a while, the only sound that Carlos hears through his hand-muffs is his own breathing. He moves his hands just a tad, and then, out of nowhere, there comes a tickle.

Carlos jerks, a high-pitched whine escaping his throat as he holds onto TK's arms. TK takes the action to stick his face right beside Carlos' ear.

"The best thing to ever happen to me."

Carlos lets go of TK's forearms, hands running up to cover his ears again. And TK uses the freedom to tickle Carlos again. Which makes Carlos whine, again, and hold TK's arms. And then TK speaks into his ear.

"My strong man."

It's only then that Carlos realises what TK is doing. He can either protect his sides or his ears. And TK knows that. He lets out an obviously fake, grumbled cry, which makes TK laugh out loud before he keeps on going.

"You're magnificent, you're amazing, you're wonderful."

Carlos isn't sure what he's trying to do, but he twists anyway, trying to get away from the words or the hands. He doesn't succeed in doing either. He feels TK shift. If he were paying attention, he would have realised that TK had fixed his stance and was now bracing one knee on the sofa, and the other foot solid on the ground.

But Carlos isn't. He doesn't until he hears TK say "I want you forever" at the same time that he gets tickled. He's about to protest, ask why he's getting tickles and words together when TK breaks all hells loose. And keeps on doing both.

Carlos jerks again, legs kicking out, hands trying to catch TK's, and endless aborted giggles and gasped laughs leaving his mouth. They do nothing to stop TK. He keeps moving his hands, going from right under his ribs, to the front of his stomach, to around his navel. A nipple gets a pinch at one point too.

And as if the physical assault wasn't enough, TK doesn't stop talking either, his words marked with a noisy peck on any patch of skin he can reach.

“Marvelous.” Kiss.

“Soft.” Kiss.

“Forever,” kiss, “caring,” kiss.

“Love.” Kiss.

“Inspiring,” kiss, “terrific,” kiss.

“Kind.” Kiss.

“Fantastic,” kiss, “selfless,” kiss.

When he repeats forever a second time, Carlos hasn’t even caught half of them, but the plethora of compliments still stuns him. It pulls out short breathless no's out of him, mixed with rapid shakes of his head.

He's pretty sure they get drowned in his own grumbles and in TK's laughs though.

Eventually, after what must be no more than two minutes later but has felt like an hour to Carlos, TK stops the tickles and his hands leave his body altogether. Carlos opens his eyes and instantly registers four things.

First, that his safety fort has been kicked right off himself and the sofa. Second, that he's on his back. Third, that he's being straddled by TK. And fourth -and most importantly- that TK is holding both of his hands over his head.

Carlos looks up at TK, his wide eyes shining with shock while TK's glisten with playful ribbing, and under it all, love and adoration. TK replies with a smile, bending at the waist, and then turning to get to his ears again.

Carlos braces, knowing words are coming. He can't explain why he's having such a strong reaction tonight. He likes being complimented, especially by TK. But he's overly relaxed and emotionally vulnerable tonight, and each phrase goes straight to his soul. It's making him feel seen, appreciated, loved, precious. And it's getting overwhelming in a way he isn't used to.

"I love you," is all TK ends up saying.

Carlos can't stop the smile that takes over his face, no matter how hard he tries. He ends up with a grin that matches TK's.

"I love you, but stop talking."

TK laughs again, a long, loud laugh. One that's coming deep from his chest and has him throwing his head back, neck left bare and exposed. Carlos inadvertently finds himself laughing too. Before he knows it, TK is letting go of his hands and he collapses on his chest, hands wrapping his torso to hug him. Carlos brings his hands low, and hugs TK back, holding tightly onto the man.

"Hey, Carlos?" TK mumbles a few moments later, cheek half pressed into Carlos' chest. Carlos hums in reply.

"You know I meant everything I said, right?"

Carlos takes a deep breath. He feels TK lift his head, and lay his chin on his chest instead. Carlos looks down at TK, at the man he loves, and a shy smile comes on. He sees TK's eyes move down to linger on his lips before they look up at him again.

He knows he's being ridiculous. There's no reason for him to flush and get flustered. But it still happens. And he finds himself turning away from the intensity of TK's gaze.

TK shuffles higher, pressing a kiss into Carlos' exposed cheek, offering him silent comfort, then lays his head on Carlos' collarbone, giving him all the time he needs.

"I know… I don't doubt that, ever," Carlos says, taking another breath. "It's just a lot."

TK seems to take a moment to ponder over his words, before asking, "How come?"

And that, Carlos knows the answer to that. He thinks he's known he'd be led here that day under the rain almost two years ago when he caught sight of the new green-eyed New York firefighter.

"No one has ever loved me the way you do. And I haven't loved anyone the way I love you."

The confession is mumbled, but TK hears it all the same, if the smile pressed into the crook of his neck is anything to go by.

"I feel the same, you know. I didn't even know love could feel this way till I met you."

Carlos is sure that no words will convey how he feels about that, so he cranes his neck and claims TK mouth instead. They exchange soft kisses, never meant to go beyond just sweet, little pecks that seek a connection.

They stay there, trading lazy kisses and affirmations of love till Carlos' stomach lets out a mean grumble. TK snickers at the sound, but moves all the same, allowing Carlos to shuffle up to support his back on the armrest of the sofa, while TK turns around to lay his back on Carlos' chest.

They grab the slightly cold lasagna, not that they really mind, and the side dishes, dumping a decent load on each of their plates, before they somehow find a position comfortable enough to eat, watch the movie and stay nestled into each other.

#carlosreyesweek2021 #Day 1:I love you but stop talking + fluff #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Tarlos #Fluff #So much fluff #All the fluff I could muster #Tarlos fic #911 Lone Star fic

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rockinlibrarian · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Review

@pixiedane tagged everyone on this, and considering I've been wallowing in my sudden Being Into Fanfic lately (though to be honest I've been READING a lot lately more than writing), see this link, I figured I'd take her up on the challenge. You, too, may take ME up on the challenge if YOU have been writing fic!

how many works do you have on AO3? 19. That's much less than @pixiedane! I'm a baby fic writer!

what’s your total AO3 word count? 66,239

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they? There are technically seven listed, but "Marvel Cinematic Universe," "The Avengers (Marvel Movies)," "Captain America (Movies)," and "Agent Carter (TV)" all apply to the same fic, so really just 4. But that doesn't count fandoms I've written but not completed (and therefore posted) for. So there are more to come. Maybe. Sometime.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos? *

"On the End of Endgame," 51 kudos, because I'm right and Marvel doesn't understand their own time travel rules and 51 people KNOW it!

"The Puppy-Fly Effect," 39 kudos, because it's Back to the Future, the most mainstream property I've written for! So people see it and say, "oh, I've actually seen that one" and they're more likely to read it!

"The Invitation: an Epilogue," 22 kudos, which is pretty good since this is my newest fic on there. It's a Howl's Moving Castle (BOOK, PLEASE, OBVIOUSLY) epilogue, so considering it's not a RECENT thing it just keeps getting slow and steady readership. I myself have been reading a lot of Howl fic lately, and people are getting comments on their decade-old stories from me now, so I imagine this one also will slow and steadily keep accumulating hits and kudos.

"Kerry and the Meaning of Life," 20 kudos. I'm honestly not sure why this is, by far, my most kudoed Legion FX fic. It's the first one I ever wrote, and got me started on the whole writing-the-entire-Loudermilk-coming-of-age rabbit hole I fell into to begin with, but I've only improved over time, I think, but even after I'd posted other Loudermilk backstory I think is objectively better, this one still gets the most!

"Syd's (Third) Childhood Begins," 15 kudos, because when people finish watching Legion FX the NATURAL move is to seek out fix-it fic. I wouldn't say this is fix-it really as much as ensure-the-ending-is-actually-happy-it, but I did use the "fix-it" tag, and at least one of the commenters DID say they immediately came on AO3 "looking for pretty much exactly this"...

do you respond to comments, why or why not? Absolutely, because I know what it feels like NOT to get comments, and also what it feels like to-- I don't know, I just get paranoid, if people don't respond to me, I think stuff like "Did I say something wrong? Do they not care about my opinion? Am I invisible?" so I'm Do Unto Others-y about it, even if all I can think of to say is "Thank you!"

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Well, I haven't actually posted (read: finished) the ending yet, but it's definitely "Exploration of the Astral Plane," because that's just Legion FX canon. No spoilers, Oliver Bird starts out the show having gotten lost decades ago, and this is the story of HOW he got lost, and his friends didn't KNOW if they'd ever see him again, so the paragraphs I've written of the end do make me quite teary! The fic's really fun despite the canonically sad ending, though, honest!

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written? I have not written one YET, if I recall, unless you count the several mildly interconnected IPs involved in the Pipeweed Mafia Stories, which isn't even posted because I feel uncomfortable posting Real People fic online, but crossovers are fun and I really enjoy reading them, especially when the writer successfully blends things together while being true to the characters. Just today I read a hilarious one blending The Good Place and Harry Potter!

have you ever received hate on a fic? Gosh, this is such an ironic question. I wouldn't say that I WISH I received hate on a fic, but my fics aren't even NOTICED enough to receive hate! I already feel paranoid-- Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, you know how it is-- when I don't receive LIKE on a fic! It's LIKE receiving hate for me, because my brain goes into "Does nobody like it? Does nobody care? Are they all too nice to say it's terrible?" mode, so, yeah.

do you write smut? if so what kind? Absolutely not. My demisexual self hates reading it, definitely not writing it. I struggled enough writing just a taste of what a horny, slutty teenager who-talks-too-much Oliver Bird would have been in this AU, and that's mild!

have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of. That would really suck, wouldn't it, if someone stole my work and ended up getting MORE LIKES AND COMMENTS THAN ME on it.

have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I'm aware of, and if I'm not aware of it but it happened I guess that would answer the "stolen" question, too.

have you ever co-written a fic before? Ever in my entire life, I feel like I must have, but not anything I've posted online then

what’s your all time favorite ship? Hmm. Honestly, there are ships I defend passionately if the topic comes up, but I'm not sure I have a favorite just on my own. Especially as I hate smut, so I avoid seeking out specifically shipping stories. But, since I have been reading a lot of HMC fic lately, I should mention that Howl and Sophie ARE one of my absolute favorite fictional couples, but that's just how DWJ wrote them, and I can tell you unfortunately that not all fanfic writers QUITE nail that chemistry...

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Speaking of The Good Place, I really do wish I could write the novelization, and maybe I'd write some pieces of it longer than the few paragraphs I have written? But I doubt I ever will, let alone to the point of FINISHING...

what are your writing strengths? Fanfic wise, I like to THINK I understand the characters very well, at least! Writing in general? I think it's just my quirky voice? I'm the only me.

what are your writing weaknesses? Oh, very much FINISHING. But beyond that, it's pulling teeth to get me to fill out the story sometimes. I tend to draft with dialogue, and then I have to go back and fill in what's actually happening AROUND the dialogue, and sometimes I'd rather not.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? At first I was like, I don't KNOW any other languages well enough to do this! And then I remembered the Firefly fic I have mostly written but not completed yet, and you know how in the show their speech is peppered with random Mandarin phrases? My husband has the Firefly RPG book and there's an appendix of Mandarin phrases you might hear in the Firefly universe, and I DID incorporate a few of those phrases into my dialogue, just from that appendix and it's probably horrible, but it fit the universe...

what was the first fandom you wrote for? EVER? The earliest I'm sure about is the Ducktales fic I found in an old Girl Scout manual that I must have written when I was 11 or 12. The first fandom I ever posted on AO3, in response to an exchange, was Legion FX of course, but that wasn't until the ripe old age of 40.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written? I'm going to give this one to "Two (or Three) Mutant Freaks Against the Fourth Grade" just because it has gotten the least number of hits of ANY of my posts, INCLUDING THE PLACEHOLDER WITH NO WORDS IN IT, so it needs more love. And it really is one of my favorites, because it's just a sweet little story about nerds making friends, and I love rereading it.

*This made me curious which fics got the most kudos comparative to their HITS, because the Endgame one has WHOA more hits than any other fic, but it's over a thousand, which doesn't make 51 kudos look so good anymore. Percentage-wise, it's less than 5%, which seems to be where most of my fics hit when you do the math-- between 4% and 8% kudos-to-hits. The exceptions, jumping up to about 18% each, are the BttF and HMC fics, and, curiously, my beloved childhood friend AU mentioned in the last question-- it may have the least number of HITS (22), but that helps the math when you consider it's got 4 kudos. The HIGHEST percentage kudos-to-hits is its sequel, the childhood-friends-as-teenagers-AU fic mentioned in question 5**-- it's got 6 kudos and only 29 hits, so that's about 20%! Apparently people LIKE when I have to write a sex-crazed adolescent boy. COME ON, people! (The story is actually about Asexuality so I guess it really isn't people just wishing I'd write smut).

**Oh, I just noticed the numbers renumbered themselves when I put bullet points in the middle of the original question 3 there, so this is actually the answer to question 8? But it SAYS FIVE.

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

title: Compass Rose

series: Lucifer (TV)

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve

summary: In which Mazikeen exercises her renowned patience.

warnings: Lucifer is kind of a dick in this. Not intentionally; he’s just young and colossally self-centered.

Also on Ao3!

“You. Demon. What’s your name?” asks the Morningstar, looking bored and depressed, as usual.

She straightens up, brimming with nerves and excitement, feeling her acidic blood bubble happily because he’s so handsome! And he’s talking to her! Her siblings will shriek with jealousy when they hear of this. “Mazikeen, my liege.”

“Mazikeen,” he repeats, mispronouncing it. “Great. Maze, do something about… all that, would you? It’s dreadfully grating.”

He gestures to the sea of damned, miserable human souls milling around the base of his throne, calling up to him for help or mercy.

“Yes, my liege,” she says, her bright mind already hard at work planning the next few millennia of punishment.

“Maze, is there a letter from Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen is now four hundred years old and in all that time, not a single letter has arrived in Hell, from Amenadiel or anyone else. Regardless, her handsome king asks every week.

It’s fine. She’s far too mature and cunning to feel even the slightest scrap of envy towards some pompous old angel she’s never even met, regardless of how obviously Lucifer loves him.

Regardless of how obvious it is that he loves no one in Hell half as much.

“No, my liege.”

“Hmm. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him, then. Brothers – who needs ‘em?”

She nods. She herself has many, many brothers, and sisters, and siblings who are neither or both, and she certainly doesn’t need them.

(Sometimes she longs for them, especially when she’s weary from the years and years dedicated to building and securing Lucifer’s kingdom, but she never needs. Needing is for the weak.)

It occurs to her that that king might be cheered by stories of Tradiusis, her most treasured and most useless brother, who is prone to chatting with the damned and asking them about all the silly human indulgences they enjoyed in life, like movies and theme parks and hot dogs. Fool that he is, the mere thought of him always brings a smile to her face.

But she decides against it, suspecting that if she were to begin telling Lucifer about her family, he’d get that same dull, faintly irritated expression she sees every time she reads him a report about the number of new arrivals and how various parts of Hell will need to be restructured to accommodate them all.

(She wonders what will happen when Hell is full – does he have a plan? Is she expected to have a plan?)

(How long, exactly, are they supposed to keep doing this?)

(Surely this can’t be all they were made for?)

“Maze, get me a drink, would you?”

Mazikeen is Lucifer’s right hand, his bodyguard, the highest-ranked demon in Hell, named the Lady of Pain, the Whirlwind, and the Blood Dancer by her peers and underlings.

Pouring drinks is… new to her.

But this is what he wants; this club, this loud music, these inebriated humans constantly demanding attention and entertainment, constantly needing to be managed. And he’s her king.

She pours him his drink and listens to him play the piano, until some wretch attempts to grope her and loses two fingers.

Running a nightclub is, it turns out, complicated.

There are all sorts of rules and regulations regarding what can and cannot be done inside it.

At one point, Lucifer decides it would be fun to have white tigers roaming the dance floor. After a few days spent looking into that option, she has to explain that they may to have settle for waitresses dressed as tigers. He pouts like it’s her fault and goes back to the piano.

She’s also not allowed to kill anyone, which is, honestly, ridiculous. Mazikeen is an ancient being, a warrior nigh unparalleled, with centuries of experience contending with the worst the human race has to offer, and every single night she endures treatment from at least one of Lucifer’s guests that, even to her vast, reasonable, and patient mind, clearly warrants swift annihilation.

If murder is, indeed, illegal, how do all the mortal women in this city who serve drinks cope?

“You block it out, I guess,” says Suzy, a waitress with thick red hair and tired eyes, after Mazikeen has had to save her yet again from a patron with wandering hands (and now broken hands). “You know, just… don’t let it get to you. Grow a thick skin.”

Mazikeen considers the half of her body that has no skin whatsoever and snickers inappropriately. Then she gifts Suzy one of her knives.

Chloe gasps. “Maze! No! Absolutely not!”

“Why?” she asks, annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“I can’t just torture a suspect to get information, Maze. It’s wrong.”

Mazikeen considers saying: You already torture people. You lock them up in tiny boxes until their minds break and their lives are utterly ruined. How is that different? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: You let Lucifer violate peoples’ innermost selves to obtain information. How is that better? I don’t understand.

Mazikeen considers saying: I don’t want to be good. I don’t care about being good. So why do I seem to put so much more thought into how to be good than you do? I don’t understand, I don’t, I don’t.

Instead, Mazikeen rolls her eyes and says nothing.

“Maze! No! What were you thinking?” cries Linda, rushing over to the cradle. “You can’t give that to a baby!”

She snatches away Mazikeen’s present; a blade, small and silver, just right for tiny hands, the same blade Mazikeen herself received from her favourite sister on her fourth birthday. It has tasted the blood of over a hundred enemies.

Charlie starts to cry and Linda puts the blade aside so she can pick him up and comfort him.

“Children need to be able to protect themselves,” Mazikeen insists.

“No, Maze. Children need to be protected.”

“No one protected me.”

Linda doesn’t say: Exactly. Why would I want my son to be anything like you?

Because Linda is kind.

But Mazikeen is perceptive and she sees it in her friend’s eyes all the same.

“So then, then it turns out that Jon Snow is actually Daenarys Targaryen’s cousin, right, which makes him – oh no! – a rival contender for the Iron Throne, and…”

“Ugh,” Mazikeen groans, cutting Ella off. “I thought this was a show about dragons! Why does it waste so much time on people either fucking or killing their relatives?”

She laughs at Mazikeen’s exaggerated annoyance. “It’s not just about dragons. There’s a lot of stuff about politics and war and, yeah, fucked-up family dynamics. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons it grips me so much. My own family’s always got a ton of drama going on, too. I mean – no incest. Not that I’m aware of. But you know all about my brothers.”

Mazikeen is about to ask what the dragons look like – whether the show’s version bears any resemblance to the beasts she’s ridden into battle – when Ella tilts her head sideways and squints at her. “Huh. Now that I think about it… I’ve told you all about my brothers but I’ve never asked anything about your family. That was shitty of me! Can I ask now? Or is it, like, one of those things you don’t talk about? Like where you’re from and how you met Lucifer?”

Fiddling with a lock of her hair – it’s straight and black today – Mazikeen says, “I don’t mind talking about it. Just… most people don’t care.”

Ella frowns, briefly (cutely, curse her). “Well, I wanna know! You got any brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“A lot. I’m not actually sure exactly how many there are now.”

“Oh, right. Gotcha. Are you close to any of them?”

“Not these days. But when we were young, we were pretty tight-knit. Didn’t really have anyone besides each other.”

Ella asks her more questions and though she has to keep her answers extremely vague, Mazikeen finds that she likes talking about her home and her childhood. Prolonged exposure to the human world has begun to make her feel insubstantial; a tool, a disguise, a thing without roots or history. Lucifer’s been no help with that, for he’s only ever known her as his servant (and, sometimes, when he’s in a good mood, his friend, by virtue of the fact that friendship with someone who works for you – who can do nothing but work for you – requires no tedious emotional labour whatsoever).

It’s nice to remember that she has, in fact, been other things. That she could, perhaps, be other things in the future.

“So,” Dan slurs, hunched over his beer. “You got whores… hordes… horns? Thought demons had horns.”

She’s busy applying a fresh coat of candy-pink lipstick to match her powder-blue bob. “Some do. I don’t.”

“Well, that sucks. That’s not fair! You deserve horns. You’re cool, Maze.”

Because that provokes a twinge of genuine affection, she says, “Wanna see what I have got?”

“Hell, yeah!”

He grins drunkenly.

“You need to promise not to scream.”

“Oh – oh, man, is it scary? Is it gross?”

She shows him her true face.

After a moment of owlish blinking, he shrugs and returns to his beer. “Eh. S’not that gross. Lucifer’s grosser. Wanna play pool?”

Amenadiel presents her with a beautiful black sheath. “I crafted it from my own feathers. It will keep the blade contained until he’s old enough to wield it safely.”

She slides Charlie’s knife into it. “Someone will need to teach him.”

“Who taught you?”

“Me? No one. They just threw us at one another and clapped for whoever survived. But… well. He’s not like me, is he?”

The angel places the sheathed blade down beside Charlie’s stuffed rabbit and plastic truck. “Maybe not now. With any luck, that will change.”

“Ma-aaze,” Lucifer groans, flopping back in his armchair with his long legs artfully folded and his hand over his eyes. “I’ve had such a tiresome morning. Pour me a drink, would you?”

“Pour it your damn self,” she suggests, standing on his penthouse’s balcony and admiring the view. His throne in Hell was about as tall as this building. From up here, all the little people down below look exactly the same.

He pouts and fetches a glass – and, to her surprise, one for her as well.

Mazikeen brings an abrupt, efficient end to the bar fight by slamming her palm into an assailant’s solar plexus.

He drops like a ton of bricks, joining the pile of groaning men, broken furniture, and smashed bottles. (Shit; it’s going to take ages to clean all this up. If Lucifer didn’t have infinite money, Lux would have gone bankrupt eight times by now.)

She turns to see Eve staring at her, beautiful mouth hanging open, and braces herself for the “Maze! No!”.

“That was so cool,” Eve breathes, and rushes over to leap into Mazikeen’s arms, only to draw back at the last second. “Oh no! You’re hurt!”

There is, indeed, a small cut on Mazikeen’s left hand.

“Don’t care, doesn’t matter,” says Mazikeen, reaching for her, wanting badly to be kissed.

But Eve drags her into a quiet back room where she applies disinfectant and bandaids with cartoon cats on them.

“I really wanna learn how you did that thing with your elbow,” she chatters, wiping away a few spots of blood with a white handkerchief. “The way his nose just went crunch! – man, it was fantastic.”

“I can teach you. If you like.”

Eve’s dark eyes are fond. “You’re always offering to do something for me – to teach me how to fight, or to carry something, or to protect me. It’s… like, I love it. But you know you don’t have to, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“I wanna do stuff for you sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Lucifer was going to take Chloe to a wrestling match but then they had another fight and he’s back to being sad, sooo I stole the tickets out of his jacket. Wanna go?”

“I love you,” says Mazikeen, even though she’s said it five times today. She likes the way it sounds in her mouth. She likes the way it makes Eve’s whole face sparkle.

“I love you too, babe.”

#mazikeen #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #eve #chloe decker #dan espinoza #linda martin #ella lopez #my fic

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phantom-sunset · 3 years

Audio

Thank yo so much to @screwunsaidemily for putting this gift exchange together.

This one is for @penguin-writes-books and is inspired by the above song

Titled: Polaroid

Rated: T

Ship: Willex

Alex has been distant recently, It wasn’t anything they had done. It was his family. His parents, to be more specific. He had finally come out to them and well...it didn’t go well. They’d stopped speaking to him completely and when he was home, pretended he wasn’t even there. His mother looked through him and his father never stayed in the same room if he was there. Alex could feel it was only a matter of time until they kicked him out completely.

Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety party Luke and Reggie were throwing for Alex but instead patiently waited. She had an idea, she always knew when one of her boys wasn’t okay. She never pushed though, and instead waited for them to be ready to come to her.

Ray was waiting as well. Both he and Julie, and maybe Carlos too, had an idea of what was going on. Ray had already gotten their second guest room ready for Alex, for when he was ready to open up to them. When he was ready to live his life completely out in the open. Ray had hung a rainbow flag off of the porch, just a little outward sign that Alex was safe and welcome in his home, that all of them were.

Reggie had come to move in with them when he had come over with cuts and bruises littering his body. That time Julie did not wait. She went to Ray and together they went to Reggie’s house, packed his things and brought him back to his new home. That was four years ago, when Reg was only thirteen.

Luke was a different story all together. When he began to get quiet and his energy seemed to diminish, they all noticed. Reggie and Alex had bothered him until he spilled everything. Julie had waited instead. She sat next to him quietly, worked on music to distract him. Held his hand when he cried on her shoulder. Played big spoon to his little when all he wanted was to feel loved and safe.

When Luke had finally let her in, she walked right up to his parents house the next day after school and refused to leave until they sat down and watched the entire video history of Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page. She sat there for hours until they admitted that their son was full of talent and that instead of forcing him into an engineering degree that would absolutely destroy his spirit, they should support his music major.

They had agreed when Julie sat quietly on their couch and simply stared at them expectantly without blinking. She might only be seventeen but she was scary when she needed to be, Rose had made sure of it.

___________________________

Alex really wants to stay home tonight. He’s not really in the mood to see anyone but none of his friends would allow it. He was pretty sure that the moment he came home today, his parents would kick him out. It was getting pretty blatant. If they didn’t do it, he was going to at least.

Julie hadn’t joined in the anxiety surrounding Alex like the boys had. Instead she convinced him that one night out wouldn’t kill him, adding on that if he got too anxious they’d leave straight away.

Julie knew that Alex definitely wasn’t ok but she knew it was a matter of time before he spilled his soul to her. It’s just how they’d always been, since they were kids.

Carrie is having her annual Valentines Day party tonight. Flynn’s cousin is in town touring UCLA for the week. He’s planning on starting in September. He is super cute and extremely Alex’s type.

So Julie is planning a secret set up. Alex has no idea but she’d let Flynn, Reggie, and Luke in on the plan. She was still shocked no one had told him about it but counted it as a win. One fourth of her best friends deserved a distraction and boy was Willie the perfect one.

“Are you guys ready?” Julie said as she walked into the studio that had somehow unofficially become the boys home. Even though Ray had made sure they all had their own space in his house.

Reggie was pulling a bright red shirt over his head, his black ripped jeans and combat boots already on, his leather jacket hanging lovingly over the back of a chair.

Luke was pulling on a white tee with “My Bloody Valentine” printed across it, a butcher knife dripping blood cut through the print. “Cute” she says to him as she takes in the shirt. She isn’t just talking about the shirt and he knows it but he smirks at her and winks. She rolls her eyes and turns to Alex.

He’s wearing a baby pink t-shirt and light colored blue jeans. His black and pink air maxes complete the look.

“No. But I doubt you’ll let me sit this one out.” Alex answers her question.

“You’re right. Let’s go, the Uber's here.” Julie puts her arm through his, pulls him towards Reggie where she loops her other arm and waits for Reggie to thread his arm through Luke’s. They skip down the driveway, Luke’s humming ‘We’re off to see the Wizard’ as they go.

When they pull up to Carrie’s it’s jam packed. Parents dropping their kids off, Uber’s dropping off their riders, and a lone skateboarder, weaving between bodies like he’s made of air. Julie smiles because she’d recognize that long brown hair anywhere. The guy hasn’t cut his hair since elementary school.

As they walk in, there’s staff dressed in red and white handing out brand new polaroid cameras to each guest as they come in. “To save the memories being made here.” He says to them.

“Obnoxious, isn’t it? All that money and we get outdated cameras” Flynn says from Alex’s side. He jumps up, startled at her sudden appearance.

“Fucking hell, Flynn. Stop doing that!” Alex hisses.

“Why? It’s so much more fun when you react like that.” She answers. Julie, Luke and Reggie snicker from behind him.

“Anyway. This is my cousin Willie. Willie This is Luke, Reggie, and Alex. You already know Julie.” She says, pointing them out individually.

“Nice to meet you.” Luke says as he holds his hand out. Reggie echoes him and Julie smiles and goes in for a hug.

Alex hasn’t moved yet. He’s just standing there, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he takes in Willie. He’s cute as hell and taller than Alex which was saying something. His cheekbones reach for the sky, and a jawline that should be illegal. He’s smiling at Alex, holding out his hand to shake and oh god, this was embarrassing. How long has he been waiting for Alex to move? How long has Alex been staring at him like a deer in headlights?

“The malfunctioning one is Alex. Give him a minute, he’ll be right with you.” Reggie said as he tears open his Poloroid camera. He turns to Luke who has his arm around Julie and is busy whispering her ear and snaps a picture.

“Shut up, Reg.” Alex clears his throat and offers up his hand, finally. He’s willing the blush on his cheeks to retreat, it doesn’t.

“So, I’m thirsty. Let’s go get some drinks?” Flynn says, grabbing Reggie’s hand and pulling him. He grabs on to Luke’s shirt who grabs onto Julie’s arm and their little chain disappears into the crowd at the speed of light.

“So, they’re not nearly as sneaky as they think they are.” Willie says. A wide smile stretching over his face.

God, he’s teeth are so nice. White and straight. He probably never even needed braces. Alex shakes his head to clear his thoughts and realises Willie is speaking to him.

“Huh?” God, he probably sounds like an idiot. Way to make an impression.

“Your friends, my cousin. They’re setting us up.” Alex chokes on his own spit. Were they?

He turns towards the bar where his friends are standing. All four of them are watching him and he narrows his eyes. Reggie salutes him. Luke gives him a bouncy thumbs up. Julie and Flynn are batting their eyes and drawing little hearts in the air in front of them, their lips puckered in exaggerated kisses.

Alex rolls his eyes and turns back to Willie who had followed his line of sight and promptly burst out laughing.

“Wanna head outside? It’s super noisy in here and something tells me they won’t come back until we’ve gotten to know each other properly.” Willie suggests and Alex nods his agreement.

They end up spending an hour together. Alex lets Willie go first and everything he learns makes him like Willie more. He’s about to start college, UCLA is his first choice and he’s already been accepted. He’s going to be moving in with his uncle Robert (Flynn’s dad). The tour was an excuse to come to LA in order to see his family.

He’s from San Francisco, and is majoring in art. He’s sold his work in different galleries since he was fifteen. His mom calls him a prodigy but he just thinks he sees the beauty in things others don’t. He paints, sculpts, and does photography mostly but otherwise dabbles in everything.

Alex tells him about himself. He’s in a band. All four of them have also applied to UCLA for music majors. They’re going on tour over the summer, down the pacific coast. He tells Willie about the time Reggie and Luke convinced him to eat engine hotdogs and they all ended up in the hospital with food poisoning. Willie found that story hysterical.

It’s as Willie searches up the Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page to watch clips of their performances that he notices something and interrupts Alex’s story about how annoying Julie and Luke are in their mutual stupidity when it comes to their feelings for each other.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture of you?” Willie asks as he pulls the camera up to his eye.

“Only if I can take one of you.” Alex answers. It came out faster than his brain could process. Braver and flirtier than he intended but he let the question hang.

“Sure, hotdog! As many as you want.” He winks and smiles at Alex and snaps the picture.

The little rectangle comes out of the side of the camera and Willie is shaking it and still smiling at Alex as he snaps his picture. They're both shaking the film to let it develop and laughing at the thought of people only ever having to do this for their pictures.

“God, how did people survive in the 90s?” Willie asks.

“Right? Like they had to carry around separate things for everything. Music, cameras, phones, planners. The bags must have been huge!” Alex answers and they laugh again.

Willie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sharpie, he grabs the picture of him from Alex’s hand and writes something on the white border. When he hands it back, Alex’s face turns red yet again.

Willie C. - 2.14.2021 🖤

Alex decides to do the same and grabs his own picture from Willie's hand, writing his own down too before handing it back.

Alex M. - 2.14.2021 🖤

They end up staying outside and completely missing Dirty Candi’s performance along with the rest of the party. Neither one is sure exactly how long it's been but Willie’s phone chimes and he looks down at it, startled.

“It’s Flynn. Wow, it’s midnight already? Looks like we gotta go. This was perfect, thanks for hanging out with me all night.” Willie says and Alex smiles at him.

“Yeah, I had a great time.” Alex answers as they both stand up. Willie turns to walk away but only makes it a few steps before he turns back to Alex.

“Can I kiss you?” Willie asks when he’s in front of Alex again. Alex freezes in response. He can’t do anything but nod because Fuck, he’s wanted to kiss him all night.

Willie laughs softly and puts both of his hands on Alex’s face and pulls him forward. It’s soft and sweet. Willie’s lips feel like cashmere and he smells like pine trees and coconut. The scent makes Alex light headed but he refuses to pull away until Willie makes the move to. Unfortunately it’s way too soon when he does.

“Thanks.” Willie turns and starts walking away again, leaving Alex to try and stop his brain leaking out of his ears since it’s now turned to mush.

“Wait! Can I have your number?” Alex shouts to him as he leaves. Willie turns, walking backwards as he shakes his head. The wide smile is still plastered on his face.

“Nah. It’s more fun this way, hotdog.” Willie answers, holding up the picture he’d taken of Alex.

“I hate that name! It’s how I almost died!” Alex shouts to him. Willie’s loud laugh lingers in the air around Alex long after he’s gone.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Alex C. Mercer. The boy who hasn’t been seen all night.” Reggie says as he throws himself down in the lounger next to him.

“Well, as setups go, I’d call this one a success.” Luke says from his other side.

“I definitely saw some flirting there.” Julie says as she sits down between Luke’s legs.

“How would you know? It’s not like either of you knows what flirting is.” Alex smirks at the two of them.

Reggie’s snickers come from behind Alex and makes it difficult to keep a straight face. Luke rolls his eyes and leans his head back, pulling Julie back with him so that her back rests against his chest. Julie punches Alex in the shoulder and sticks her tongue out at him.

_________________________________

It’s a week before classes start at UCLA and Julie, Luke Alex, and Reggie are enjoying being back. In their own homes, in their own beds (Alex’s happens to be at Julie’s house now). They decide to go to the beach and invite Flynn along.

Alex hasn’t mentioned Willie since valentines day and no ones brought it up. After all, he’s six hours away and had never given Alex his phone number. Sure, Alex had gone full FBI and found his Instagram page but it was private and Alex had never worked up the nerve to request him.

He thinks about him a lot though. Looks at the picture in his wallet more than he’d ever admit. He doesn’t have to come out and say it to anyone though because they’ve all caught him with it. Julie just smiled sweetly and left it alone. Unfortunately, Luke and Reggie are assholes so they bring it up all the time.

So here they are, spread out on the beach and Alex is getting thirsty. They’ve been here for a few hours and whatever supplies they’ve brought have been depleted.

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab some drinks. If you freeloaders want anything you’re going to have to come with.” Alex says as he stands up and slips his flip flops on.

“Rude.” Reggie says and stands up to go with him. Julie goes too and the three of them make it to the cement. Luke stays behind with Flynn to discuss album art concepts.

They stop to make sure someone actually had the money and when Reggie pulls out a soggy twenty that he had accidentally went swimming with, Julie laughs at him. Alex pulls out his own thankfully dry wallet.

“Watch out!” The voice comes from behind Alex but he doesn’t have time to move out of the way before something solid and strong slams into his back sending him sprawling face first into the sand.

“What the fuck?!” He yells as he spits sand out of his mouth and brushes it off of his body where it stuck painfully.

“Oh man, You dinged my board.” The voice comes from behind him again and he turns, fury burning in his veins.

“I dinged your board? You almost killed me!” Alex yells back. He doesn’t look up, examining his skinned knee.

“Yeah, I did pancake you, huh?” he’s laughing now and Alex stands up to give this guy a piece of his mind but his thoughts are cut off abruptly.

He can see Julie and Reggie out of the corner of his eye, smiling widely and snickering to each other. God, he hates them so much.

“Hotdog! Wow, long time.” He says. Alex’s brain has shut off though because wow he looks better than he did on valentines day.

His skin is sunkissed, his hair lightened by the sun, and he’s wearing a crop top that shows off his toned stomach. Alex traces the V as it disappears under his waistband. Someone pinches his elbow and he snaps out of it. Thank you, Julie.

“Willie, hi! How have you been?” When had his voice gotten so squeaky?

“I’ve been good! Starting school next week. Just finished moving in yesterday. How about you?” He answers. Julie and Reggie have walked away to the beach bar.

“Just got back from touring last night. Now we’re here. Relaxing before school starts.” Alex waves his hand out, encompassing the beach and the general area where Flynn and Luke are bent over her phone.

“You know, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that party. Kind of the best kiss I’ve had.” Willie chuckles and bumps his shoulder against Alex’s.

“Tell me about it.” Alex pulls his wallet out as he speaks. Pulling out the picture from his wallet and showing it to Willie.

“No way!” That smile that Alex hasn’t stopped staring at is back as he pulls out his own wallet and shows Alex the picture. The ink is faded, as if he’d been running his fingers over the signed name. The corners are crinkled and Alex beams because his looks just as well loved.

“Wanna join us?” Alex asks and Willie nods and smiles in response.

“Hell yeah!” He takes off his helmet and picks up his skateboard, following Alex back to their spot. The thirst that had been drying his throat moments before is completely forgotten when Willie laces his fingers with Alex’s.

#Julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #willex #Alex mercer #jatp willie #Julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #jatp flynn

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