Isabela would probably tap that (lootthebodies) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-04-16 22:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, isabela, miranda lawson |
Who: Isabela and Miranda
What: Evil Mistletoe and kisses too amazing to ignore. But Isabela will.
When: Over Christmas during the evil mistletoe plot. Yeah, I'm that slow sometimes.
Where: Miranda's flat
Rating/Warnings: PG-13? It's them, but hands are above the waist mostly.
Status: Complete!
It might not end up being the perfect baking spree, but to Bela, cookie making time was still going to make the Perfect Holiday. Mainly because it was a fun new tradition she got to take part in with Miranda, but also because the activity in the kitchen somehow reminded her of home.
Not Christmas Cookies, per se, but the kitchen had always been a buzz of family when she’d been growing up. It was a part of her culture, one she didn’t mind, though she was bad at anything having to do with cooking, herself.
Maybe neither of them were that great at baking. Bela had just removed another tray of cookies that had been flavored with a bit of mint and twisted into candy cane shapes. The bottoms were dark brown, and she screwed her nose up at them a bit. “I’m never going to get the hang of this, and have no idea why burning cookies is this much fun. Do you think those peanut butter ones will fare better?”
It was time for more adult hot cocoa, she decided, and promptly refilled both of their mugs.
Baking wasn’t exactly Miranda’s strong suit. Cooking she could do, she had to learn the skill so she could ensure that her sister ate well after they’d run away from home. But baking? That was not her thing. And considering how she’d had to work long hours sometimes to ensure she had enough money to feed her sister, Miranda hadn’t exactly had the time to bake most of the time.
Unlike Ori, Miranda remembered their mother. While they’d had a life of luxury and hired cooks to do all the holiday cooking and baking, her mother had always done activities with Miranda during the holidays. Mostly when her father wasn’t around being a gigantic prick and trying to buy her and mold her into what he wanted her to be.
But baking with Bela was nice, and she did wonder if they could make this a little tradition. Though perhaps investing in store-bought Christmas cookies might be a better idea in the future. She glanced over at the tray Bela had just taken out of the oven and she couldn’t help but to chuckle. Neither of them were that good at this, but that wasn’t the point, was it? The point was to spend time together and have fun while doing it.
And ever since getting her father out of the way and taking his company away from Hydra, Miranda had been a lot happier, far less tense than she had been. Before, she’d always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if her father had spies hidden around her. Now, she was free, and while she was scared by the concept of getting to live her life without running, she was still happy and relieved and also so very grateful for Bela’s support through everything. Miranda was just glad that she hadn’t had to deal with everything alone. Learning from her dream self, even if she’d been so very tempted to take her father on herself, she hadn’t intended on undertaking a suicide mission again.
“Somehow I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of this either,” she responded. “As for the peanut butter ones, they may suffer a similar fate. But we can at least hope they come out some sort of edible as opposed to being charcoal?”
"Charcoal's a bit harsh, isn't it?" Bela asked, though she didn't really sound that sure, herself. Her teeth sunk into the burned cookie while she poured them both more of her potent hot cocoa mixture. It was probably more alcohol than hot cocoa at that point, but she didn't think either of them cared.
The cookie crunched in her mouth, and her face twisted slightly as she determined herself to finish chewing on the bite she'd taken. It wasn't that bad, but it definitely didn't taste like mint so much as burned sugar and flour. She set the rest of the cookie down so that she could hand Miranda her mug, grinning a bit at how much her friend seemed to be enjoying herself. "Well, perhaps 'charcoal light'. They're not TOO bad, really. Maybe more mint in next time. And... less time in the oven, obviously. Not so advisable to drink while baking, but I'm not as willing to change that one."
She winked at Miranda.
Miranda watched Bela take a bite of the cookie, and she couldn’t quite contain the chuckle at seeing how Bela’s face twisted as she chewed the cookie. The alcohol in the hot cocoa most likely helped in Miranda not being able to conceal the chuckle. Normally, she did have a decent poker face when she wanted to have one.
“I am not about to say no drinking while baking, so don’t worry. I’d only say that if we started a fire or something.” It had been a while since Miranda had let herself have more than one drink. Everything with her father had made her stay sober in the event anything happened. And, well, there had been that one ill-advised drunken night she’d had with someone that she’d never ever talk about to anyone...unless she got drunk and somehow let it slip. But after that ill-advised night of drunken, misguided passion, Miranda had laid off alcohol. But she wasn’t going to police Bela’s drinking unless it interfered with their safety.
Taking the drink from Bela, she smiled. “Thank you. You know, you make excellent adult hot cocoa, in case I forgot to say that already.” She might have said it, but she couldn’t quite remember anymore. She’d gotten distracted by cookies. She took a drink before she decided the peanut butter cookies were ready to go in the oven, and she slid them in. “Now, how long was that last batch of cookies in the oven for?” She asked as she grabbed her phone to set a timer for the new batch of cookies.
"I think they were supposed to be in for thirteen? But I admit, I forgot to set a timer. So it was likely more like fifteen or so." Bela glanced over at the burnt cookies, and squinted one of her eyes a bit, "Probably more like twenty."
There was a recipe around there somewhere, but Bela wasn't really inclined to go and check it. She shrugged a shoulder, "Let's go for thirteen and if they look underdone we can try a few more minutes. Only with a responsible adult timer, and not just trusting my ability to keep time. Because... as you know, I am excellent at adult activities like drinking and finding people to hook up with and getting into adult level trouble, but watching a clock is definitely not on the list."
And she really wanted the peanut butter cookies to be good. She had a mental image that involved holding one up to Miranda's mouth and encouraging her to have a nibble, which was impossible to do if the cookies weren't edible.
Miranda glanced at Isabela’s cookies and couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Well, we’ll make sure that these ones are in for less than twenty minutes then.” She had a bit of a smug smirk on her face, but that could possibly be the buzz from the alcohol working as well. She could count on one hand how many times she’d had more than two drinks at a time, and how many times she’d been drunk. It was mostly due to needing to be responsible for her sister and ever vigilant for their father and his lackeys. But it was also due to the fact Miranda tended to make very poor judgement calls when intoxicated. Such as having slept with her father-figure.
She definitely had daddy issues, but she was a little freer from those now that her father had been removed from the world.
“As I’m sure you know, watching a clock is rather boring,” Miranda commented as she actually reached for her phone to set a timer for thirteen minutes on it before setting it aside. She pressed her hands on the counter and leaned over it, looking at Bela. “And you are definitely not a boring woman.”
"So what shall we do to pass the time then, I wonder?" Bela had a glimmer in her eyes, the kind usually reserved for flirting with danger. Miranda wasn't precisely dangerous, but there were all manner of things that Bela constantly thought of getting up to with her. And all of them had been stricken off the list nearly a year ago when she realised how much she respected the woman.
Now she was smart enough to know when she was in a little too deep. They'd been through too much together to pretend otherwise, but she didn't know what, if anything, to do about any of that. And at that moment, she wasn't sure she cared. Bela leaned over a little, too, and smirked at Miranda. "We could play a game, or I could do another rendition of dancing on the table... I could show you creative things to do with a candy cane... tell you about the time my dream girlfriend bought me a Rivaini fertility figurine without realising it. Well, actually, that's nearly the entire story."
Miranda was definitely in too deep, but she knew Bela didn’t do relationships or anything even remotely involving strings, so she hadn’t acted on her feelings. Which was something that Oriana had picked up on and kept prodding at Miranda to do something about it. But Miranda was entirely stubborn, and she also didn’t want to scare Bela off. She’d rather have her as a friend than potentially not having her around at all.
“Wait, your dream girlfriend gave you a fertility figurine without realizing it? How could she not know it was a fertility figurine?” Miranda was actually highly curious about that. And, well, she didn’t exactly have funny stories like that to tell from her dreams. Well, except maybe stories about Mordin and how he liked to sing Gilbert and Sullivan, but that was about it.
"Oh yes, and it was just hysterical." Bela chuckled at the memory, not bothering to hide the fond smile that came to her lips when she thought about Hawke and her awkward attempts at courtship. They were both awkward at it, and that's what had made it so endearing. Usually Bela tried not to remember. Both for her own good, and everyone else's. It wasn't like those dreams had ended up going well for either of them. Not entirely.
But this was a good moment, a good evening. So she leaned on an arm and twinkled her eyes. "Thedas is a huge place, you know, lots of diversity. Most people have heard of Rivain, but we're mysterious. We keep to ourselves, same as some of the other countries. Hawke'd never been to Rivain, she'd barely been beyond her own country. So she just picked up this statue she knew was from there, and thought it'd make a nice... gift..."
Bela trailed off and peered at Miranda, suddenly consumed with the need to kiss her. It was an overwhelming impulse, so powerful that her own lips were tingling as if she'd already started to press them against Miranda’s. "...and of course... you know... Fertility..."
What was wrong with her? Well, if she'd looked up, she might have noticed that a not-so-innocent sprig of mistletoe had made its way to the ceiling above them.
Miranda listened, finding the story rather amusing. “One would think that even with never having been to a country, anything related to fertility would be rather self-explanatory and obvious.” Miranda hadn’t exactly spent time on the home worlds of other species, but she’d interacted with plenty of them. She didn’t know Turian art from a hole in the wall (largely because Turian art was rare outside of Palaven), but she liked to think that she’d know a Turian fertility statue if she saw one.
Though she suddenly wasn’t finding the story as interesting as the sudden urge she felt to kiss Isabela. It was incredibly strong and a bit surprising to her, not that she didn’t have the want to kiss Bela normally because she did, but this was far stronger than that. She licked her lips and found herself gazing at Bela’s lips.
“I hope you...uh...didn’t let her...live it down,” she commented as she tried to focus on what they were talking about, but instead she found herself moving closer to Bela, which only seemed to intensify her need to kiss her. And before she could try to stop herself, she was leaning in to kiss Bela.
"Well..." Bela whispered. But she didn't finish her sentence. Miranda was so close she could feel the warmth of her breath against her cheeks and lips. All Isabela wanted to do was close the distance between them, and before she could be rational and pull herself away, they were kissing. There were a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea, but Isabela no longer cared. All she cared about was that Miranda's lips were warm, and soft, and kissing them was like a thunder clap.
Isabela always knew that it was going to be exactly like kissing electricity.
Her fingers hooked into the waist of Miranda's pants and yanked, tugging forward until their bodies were crashing into each other. Maybe everything about this was completely wrong, but it felt so right that all Bela could think about was keeping the kiss going until neither of them could breathe or see straight.
It felt like a bolt of lightning ran through Miranda’s body the instant her lips touched Bela’s. It was intoxicating in a way, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Bela. It was dangerous, and she was playing with fire, but right now Miranda didn’t care if she got burned. All she wanted was to keep feeling Bela’s soft, warm lips on her own.
This moment was yet another reminder that she was most certainly bisexual. Or maybe it was just Isabela. At either rate, Bela was highly attractive and Miranda’s feelings for her had only deepened as time had gone on despite her best efforts to convince herself otherwise because it was just easier for both of them.
She tangled a hand into Bela’s hair, almost cradling the back of her head. She made a muffled little noise when Bela tugged her and their bodies crashed together. She didn’t want this moment to end, it felt so right, as though it were meant to be.
The fact that it was meant to be was also running through Isabela's mind, though she fought back the swell of near panic that rose in her gut whenever she usually came to that conclusion. It was a set of thoughts that had come to mind more and more often over the last few months, and as time marched on and the feelings became more real, Isabela knew she wasn't going to be able to fight them forever.
She knew a losing battle when she saw one, and she'd seen this particular losing battle before. In another lifetime, when she'd had a ship that she could sail far, far away from all of this. Of course, in that particular instance she'd been running away from far more than fate.
Bela needed this moment to go on, because when it was over she wasn't sure what she'd do with herself. So she let her hands roam a bit, up and down Miranda's back, and let out a little groan as she deepened the kiss. She'd been holding back for months and the kiss started to feel more like being set aflame than lightning. If they were both going to get burned, at least it would be a bonfire.
If Miranda were honest with herself, she’d never felt this way about anyone, be it in this world or in the dreams. Loving someone had never been something she’d allowed herself to do because it meant trusting someone. It meant opening up to them. And both in this world and her dreams, she’d refused to open up like that to anyone because she felt it was safer than potentially opening up to the wrong person that could be on her father’s payroll. She was suspicious of everyone by nature because she had to protect her sister.
So the fact that Isabela had worked her way into Miranda’s heart this deep, that Miranda trusted her more than she’d trusted anyone else scared her. Miranda had had a couple previous relationships, but they never got serious because of the brick wall Miranda had built around herself. Isabela had somehow broken down that wall when Miranda wasn’t looking.
Feeling that Isabela didn’t seem to be holding back only made Miranda stop holding back. She matched Isabela’s kiss, wanting that flame and if they were going to get burned, at least they’d enjoy it. She pulled Isabela closer to her, groaning a little into the kiss as her other hand roamed along Isabela’s back. Until now, she’d been holding back because she respected that Isabela didn’t do relationships and she didn’t want to put pressure on her to do something she didn’t want to do. Miranda had resigned herself to wanting Isabela as a friend rather than risk scaring her off for good with too many emotions.
What Isabela wanted was complicated; In the immediate moment what she really wanted was the very thing she knew she couldn't have, the thing she'd prevented herself from taking any number of times because Miranda wasn't a one night stand. Or a friend with benefits, or a fuck buddy. Isabela had known that from the beginning, and she'd already respected her too much to use her like that.
But for the long term? What Isabela thought she wanted was something she was absolutely terrible at. It was messy; Emotions always were, and she'd never fully known how to deal with them. Her entire real world family had been the stiff upper lip kind to begin with, but her dreams had definitely not helped with any of that. For her entire life it had been better to just cut and run, not get invested or involved. No messes, no complications, no baggage she had to carry around.
She was starting to realise that avoiding relationships just created a different kind of baggage, though, and that realisation made her extremely glad that the kitchen started to echo with the ringing of a phone's timer.
It was the one they'd set to make sure the cookies didn't burn, and an excellent reason to pull away. Before her hands slid down under Miranda's clothing and against her skin, and sought out places they had no business going.
Emotions were definitely messy and Miranda had been against mess most of her life. After she’d taken Oriana and run away from their father, she’d been all about order and not getting herself into trouble so she could properly take care of her sister. Relationships had never been something she’d been serious about. She’d had plenty of one night stands or fuck buddies over the years, sometimes she’d needed a good shag. But relationships? Not so much.
The sound of the timer going off brought her back into reality. As much as she wanted Isabela’s hands to move under her clothing, and to tear Isabela’s clothes off of her, that was going to be a very bad idea. Miranda would only end up hurt and Isabela would probably feel bad about it. When Isabela pulled away, it took Miranda a few moments to catch her breath and remember the timer was set for the cookies. But she could still feel Bela’s lips against hers, and her heart was racing.
“Right. The cookies.” She said as she grabbed the oven mits and opened the oven to pull out the tray of cookies.
"Cookies... balls." Isabela muttered. Her lips were still tingling - her entire body was - and she felt as if she was waking up from some kind of dream. The really amazing, floaty kind that usually made her want to float right on back to sleep. One of her hands ran up into her hair and tucked it behind her ear, and she tried to get her head to clear.
She'd had far too much of a taste of Miranda, far too good of one, and now that she had? It was all she could really think of. Not even the alcohol in the hot chocolate tasted as good, though she took a few bracing sips.
The cookies weren't going to come close, even if they weren't burned.
But one thing was definitely certain: Isabela definitely had been.