#like damn i have like 2 Black OCs that got green eyes at best and one of them is just a clone of the other

[blackfilmmakers]

Yall know you don't have to force every Black character to have green eyes to make their designs distinct right?

#disney wish #lightwashing #the number of redesigns ive seen of asha that either lightwash her or give her green eyes- #“but this based on concept art” yeah its concept art #unless you base her attire from concept art that looked more culturally accurate #dont lightwash the girl #the animation for this movie does that enough #like damn i have like 2 Black OCs that got green eyes at best and one of them is just a clone of the other

[kfinalgirls]

Scream ༊*·˚ Part 2

༊*·˚Admin Lulu Presents~ ༊*·˚Pairing: Choi San x Lulu (OC) 1st pov x Park Seonghwa ༊*·˚Genre/Trope/Au: smut, horror, established relationship, scream au, college au ༊*·˚Rating: R rated, +18 MDNI ༊*·˚Warnings: mentions blood, gore, death, knives, violence (smut will be included in future chapters), drinking, party going, creep! seonghwa, gaslighting ༊*·˚Kinks: suggestive talk ༊*·˚Word Count: 1,913 ༊*·˚Credits to @cafekitsune for the divider ༊*·˚Synopsis: When a killer begins to target students of my college--and also starts calling me to brag about it--San is there to comfort me. But throw in his creepy best friend and my world begins to crumble around me ༊*·˚Part One ||| All Posts || Part Three

“San, no, I am not going to some stupid party!”

San and I were having a not-so-great argument. He wanted to go out, I wanted to stay in. Usually I could convince him with a flash of my underwear that it was in his best interest to stay in but tonight he was being stubborn for some reason.

“Come on, Lulu!” He pleaded, “I promised Seonghwa we would go!”

I sent him a look of disgust, “I’m especially not going because of your weird best friend.”

“He’s not weird!” San whined, “He’s just got his head in the clouds a lot. I promise, he’s harmless.”

Harmless my ass. I don’t know how many times I caught Seonghwa staring at me and even when I caught him he never stopped like normal people do. He always seemed to loom at any function that San and I went to. Seonghwa got so close to me sometimes I could hear his breathing. He really really creeped me out but he was San’s best friend and I had to endure it, I guess.

“Please, I don’t want to go. I don’t care what you promised!” I begged. If I had to pull out the big cards, I would. I went on my knees and grabbed a fistful of his pants, looking up at him, “I’ll make it worth your while if we don’t go.”

San looked so good. His hair was soft and he had just a t-shirt and a pastel green cardigan but damn did his shoulders fill out everything so nicely. San cursed under his breath and cupped the side of my face with one hand. “God, what I wouldn’t do for you to suck my dick right now.” He shook his head and steeled himself. “No, you can’t dissuade me. Seonghwa is throwing this party and he was very adamant that we both be there. We have to. Besides, you’ve been jittery since movie night and I want to get you out of the apartment.”

Guess I had to take another approach. “There’s a killer out there, San!”

San rolled his eyes at me, “Then we should go to the party. The more people there the less likely we’re going to get murdered.”

“Fine,” I said stiffly, getting up from being on my knees, “I’m not wearing this skirt though. Seonghwa gets weird when I wear skirts around him.”

San pffted at me. “Who wouldn’t get weird when you wear skirts? I get a chubby just watching it swish on the back of your thighs.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and moved into the bedroom. I ditched my skirt and looked for some comfortable pants. “You’re my boyfriend. You’re allowed to get a chubby when you look at me. I want you to get a chubby when you look at me. I don’t want Seonghwa imagining getting his fingers up my skirts!” I shuddered at the thought.

“But Babe!” San appeared at the doorway. “You can’t blame him. You’re hot. Even Wooyoung admitted once to--”

I threw my hand up and stopped whatever San was going to say. “Please stop, I don’t want to hear the end of that sentence.”

I finished shimmying on the black pants I chose to wear and checked my make up in the mirror. “We will stay for exactly two hours and you better be getting me refills when I finish my drinks,” I said to San, looking at him through the mirror.

San sent me a sunny smile that made his eyes disappear. He was looking all happy-go-lucky just to piss me off, “Of course, Babe.”

I walked to the doorway, looked my boyfriend up and down and said, “I am not happy with you right now.”

“Does this mean you won’t be giving me a bj on the drive there or--OW!”

There were plenty of cars littering the lawn of Seonghwa’s huge house. San had informed me that Seonghwa always had the place to himself and that was usually why he threw parties. Who knew where his parents were--Dubai or did he say Dublin? Either way, the party was well on its way by the time San and I got there.

“I’ll go get us drinks,” San said as he saw Wooyoung in the kitchen from the entranceway.

“Don’t you dare--” And he was gone.

I folded my arms and found a corner to sulk in. I couldn't even bring San upstairs to fool around. Some classmate had told me Seonghwa’s parents had cameras EVERYWHERE. I did not need Seonghwa watching me and San--I shuddered. I did not want to go down that train of thought.

But then I heard heavy breathing and, “You’re here.”

I whirled around and narrowed my eyes down at Seonghwa. “Regrettably,” I said with my lips pursed to the side.

Except… Why did Seonghwa look so good? I mean, it’s not like he wasn’t attractive. I had heard every girl on campus sigh over Park Seonghwa. They thought he was secretive and mysterious and his allure was a legend around the school. But his creepy factor always nulled that out for me. But tonight, Seonghwa was in a long jacket, jeans ripped at the knees and a turtleneck. He looked… sophisticated? Definitely a look I’d go for. I shook my head. No, Lulu, you’ve got to stop that.

Seonghwa had a shy, crooked smile on his face now. Shit. “Something wrong?”

I scoffed at him, “Yes, you’re entirely too close to me.”

Seonghwa chuckled under his breath. “Looks like San got distracted with your drinks. Perhaps I can keep you company instead?”

I looked over my shoulder and there was my boyfriend, playing a fucking drinking game with Wooyoung. That bitch. I turned back to Seonghwa and scoffed at him, “I don’t fucking think so.”

Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders, “San told me you got some creepy phone call? I didn’t think you wanted to be alone.”

I winced. San, must you tell your best friend everything? “I-I’m fine.” The stutter in my voice said otherwise. Fuck.

Seonghwa’s smile became a grin. I took a step back as he took a step forward. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. I heard the news say that it seems the killers are targeting students that are in the bottom half of the dean’s list. Aren’t you in the upper half?”

I frowned at Seonghwa. “What do you mean killers? There’s more than one?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened and then he shrugged again. “That’s their theory, anyways.”

I opened my mouth to ask more when my phone went off. That better be Choi San telling me he’s got my drink or I swear to God…

{10:42pm} Private Number: Having fun?

My mouth went dry and my palms started to sweat. I hadn't received a message from the creepy caller since that day in the Geology labs. If I had to guess, I would have said it was Seonghwa, but he was in front of me right now. So who the fuck was calling me and texting me?

{10:43pm} Private Number: I have another gift for you

I couldn't help but whimper. Did this mean the killer was going to kill again?

{10:44pm} Private Number: Special delivery! {10:44pm} Private Number: 3 {10:44pm} Private Number: 2 {10:44pm} Private Number: 1

I let out a terrified shriek as the lights went out. The partygoers groaned at the inconvenience but my heart was beating out of my chest. I felt a presence at my front and reached out to hit whatever--or whoever--was in front of me. They caught my hand and I struggled a bit. I was about to raise my other hand when…

“Stop, it’s just me,” Seonghwa said softly, “I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you.”

Like that made me feel any better. “Let go of me,” I hissed, yanking on my arm.

Instead, Seonghwa pulled me closer, trapping me against his chest. “I can protect you,” He crooned, “You don’t have to be scared.” He must have been able to hear my heart going crazy because he said, “It’s like you have a hummingbird trapped in your chest.”

There was a yell and then a loud snap and I jumped. I couldn't see anything and all I could think about were the texts I had just received. “L-let go of me, Seonghwa, please,” I whined, “You’re scaring me.”

Seonghwa leaned forward to speak into my ear, “Are you scared of me or of the situation?” He smoothed my hand over his chest and I could feel his heart beating steadily--not erratic like my own. “Just count my heartbeats and the lights will be back on soon enough.”

Oddly enough, I did just that. I felt his heart beat against my hand and it calmed me. Somehow, just knowing that someone else was there, someone who wasn’t terrified, soothed me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Anything for you,” Seonghwa said in a low voice and it made me… feel things I definitely did not want to feel.

The lights came back on and everyone cheered. And then someone screamed.

I buried my head into Seonghwa’s chest, I couldn't help it. I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what my gift was. Tears were in my eyes and I could feel bilge burning the back of my throat. I just wanted this to be over, I just wanted this to stop.

Seonghwa brought his hand to my head and started to pat it. “There there, Lulu. It’ll all be over soon.”

“Lulu!” San shouted my name and I jumped out of Seonghwa’s grasp.

I ran towards his voice and then stopped in my tracks. Hanging from the second floor was that stupid bitch that always flirted with San at the parties. I despised her, and yeah, I probably wished her dead a few times when I was fuming but this! Her tongue hung out obscenely and there was the word WHORE carved out on her chest. Jesus!

“Don’t look, don’t look,” San said to me softly, gathering me up in his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“San!” I cried out and then started to sob into his arms. “I was so scared. You said the killer wouldn’t get us here. What if--”

San reassured me, rubbing his nose against the crown of my hair. “Don’t do that to yourself. The killer wouldn’t harm a hair on my head. I’m not even on the Dean’s list, right? That’s what the news is saying anyways.”

I leaned back to look into San’s eyes. “Weird. Seonghwa just said the same fucking thing.”

San grinned, “Oh, talking to Seonghwa now, are we? What happened to ‘he gives me the creeps’?”

“Do not start with me, Choi San,” I scolded him, “You’re the one that abandoned me as soon as we got into this stupid party and now--” I choked up.

I jumped when a hand landed on my back but I let out some tension when I heard Seonghwa’s voice. “I guess I should call the police. This is a pretty lame party.”

We drove back to my apartment in silence, but there was something that I couldn't stop mulling over. Why… why had both San and Seonghwa made it their top priority to make sure I was okay and… why hadn't they been more spooked about the murder that happened?!

༊*·˚Part One ||| All Posts ||| Part Three

#kpop horror #ateez horror #choi san horror #ateez smut #choi san smut #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #Admin Lulu Presents #Scream: Sanhwa edition #atz choi san scenario #atz san scenario #ateez choi san scenario #ateez dark scenario #choi san dark scenario

[nico-other-ocs-blog]

Template made by @cursebreaker-lilith

BASICS

Name: Johnny Tazar Jr

Nicknames: T, TJ, Dragon boy, Jr and killer

Name Meaning: Eh he was just named after his original faceclaim, Johnny Depp

Gender:

Pronouns: he/they

Age: 15

Birthday: October 31st 1879

Zodiac: Scorpio

Blood Status: Half-blood

Ethnicity/Nationality: well his mother is German so I want to say he’s German and his nationality Irish because the dragons reside in the Irish mountains but it’s hidden by elf magic so it looks like it’s just mountains but there’s ruins, caves and houses for those who prefer to stay in human form. It’s a whole city with the dragons

Sexuality: aro-bi

Appearance

Body:

Height: 5’4 in his teen years- 6’2 in his adult years

Build:

Eyes: forest green

Hair: his hair color is brown

Skin: beige

Misc: [scars, birthmarks, glasses, etc] he has a few scars running across his chest from playing with his siblings, he’s got a scar running across his face from one of his many fights, he has scales running down his back and wrapping around his right leg, his eyes also stay the same as his dragon form and he has glasses

Material Items:

Clothing:

Accessories: A watch that Logan made for them, a bracelet he made out of his scales and a necklace he got from his fysthe (let’s just say that’s what father means in dragon tongue and totally not me misspelling father that bad)

In their school bag: A notebook, a pen, a few books like the nerd he is, a bag of treats for his dog, Lucky, an axe (don’t ask how it fits in there nobody knows) and a dagger

Reference:

Face Claim: teen years and adult years, Cillian Murphy

Voice Claim: Cillian Murphy

Personality

Traits:

+ [list of positive traits] ambitious, passionate, loyal, independent

+/— [list of neutral traits] sarcastic, pessimist, antisocial, carefree

— [list of negative traits] hothead, impatient, arrogant, blunt

Description:

Johnny is very hot headed and don’t tell him that he’s hot headed because he’ll just go off on a rant of how he’s not a hot head. Johnny also hates being called TJ as that’s what his mom calls him and he hates his mom.

Other:

Likes: chopping wood, his dad, sketching, writing and building

Dislikes: his mom, a group of orcs not too far away from his city and most humans cause of their mom

Alignment: lawful evil

Hogwarts

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Extracurriculars:

Clubs: Magical creatures club, dragon club (of course) and astronomy club

Quidditch: yeah he’s a seeker

Prefect or Head Boy/Girl: he somehow managed to be head boy and he was a prefect also

Best Classes:

Flying class because he’s a dragon I would be disappointed if the dragon didn’t know how to fly on a damn broom when they have to learn how to stabilize themselves in the air when they have giant wings flapping next to them.

Potions class because he compares it to cooking for his father when he was bed bound

Alchemy because why not, he likes it

Worst Classes:

Charms class mostly because he hates it very much

Herbology even if he spends a lot of time in the forest, he still isn’t used to screaming mandrakes plus those earmuffs ain’t doing shit to block the noise for him

Favorite Professors:

Professor [description of why] well he’s an hphl oc so I can’t decide this for now

Least Favorite Professors:

Professor [description of why] well he’s an hphl oc so I can’t decide this for now

Magic

Wand: black walnut, dragon heartstrings and 8 1/2 inches

It was said that black walnut was one of the three wand woods that worked well with alchemy and the dragon heartstring is just a pun

Special Abilities: [legillimens, occlumency, parseltongue, curses, etc] a golden lab animagus, he’s a necromancer, ancient magic, chaos magic, alchemy manipulation, alchemy, animal magic and much more that I don’t feel like writing

Boggart

Form: his dad in front of him dead with his mother laughing like a maniac

Riddikulus: their father and them making potions together

Patronus

Form: a Rottweiler

Memory: watching his father make him his necklace, the last thing they did together before his father fell ill for a few years

FAMILY

Father: Johnny Tazar Sr

His faceclaim is Tony Goldwyn

Johnny Sr is the dragon chief of the Irish mountains that they reside in.

Johnny Sr is a full dragon unlike his son

He is also a dragon rider and likes to fly around on his dragon when he’s not bed bound because of the poison in his veins.

He definitely doesn’t approve of Jr being a mercenary but there’s not much he can do while he’s bed bound besides tell his guards to watch over his son for him

#1 ex wife hate

His eyes stay the same in his human for like they are in his dragon form

Mother: Chloe Barns

Ima make this short and quick. She’s a bad mother, she tried to kill Johnny Sr which is why he was bed bound for a few years and her faceclaim is Allison Janney

Older Brother: Joseph Tazar

His faceclaim is David Mazouz

Joseph is the middle child between the three of them and he despises it because Sam is 10 years older than them so he bounced as soon as he got the chance too. And Johnny is the youngest so he usually gets ignored which leaves Joseph with caring for his father the most out of the three of them

When Joseph isn’t caring for his father he is most likely helping around in the city or flying around in his dragon form

Speaking for dragon forms, while in his human form Joseph has scales running across his face and his nails are shaper that a normal humans

Oldest brother: Sam Tazar

Sams faceclaim is Cameron Monaghan

Sam came from his fathers previous marriage with a lovely women named Samantha, she sadly died a few years before Joesph was born

Even though Sam isn’t around much he still visits to help his younger brothers with their ill father and help around the city whenever he gets the chance too

While in his human form Sam eyes stay the same as his dragon form which is just like his fathers eyes

Pets:

Her name is lucky and she’s a golden lab who Johnny loves very much

A horse named Port and Johnny loves him very much also

FRIENDS

Best Friends:

Ima put Lillian down as his best friend since that’s the first friend they ever made in the human realm @camillejeaneshphm

Good Friends:

Atticus because why not, talking to Lillian leads you to her lover friend @hphmmatthewluther

@hogwartsmysteryho Nolan because Johnny somehow got stuck with showing all the first years around even if he himself was only a second year

Friends:

Person [description of relationship]

Dormmates:

Maybe Nolan because Johnny has nobody in his dorm and from what I’m seeing everyone is making their oc a Ravenclaw

Enemies:

Let me know if you want our ocs to be enemies

#johnny tazar #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #hphl oc #hphl mc #hphl #hphl profile

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 13: On Your Left

Summary: Steve and Katie meet a new friend whilst out jogging, and Steve is sent on a mission to rescue a ship- the Lemurian Star…but it fast becomes apparent that not everyone on his team is pulling in the same direction.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18+)

A/N: We jump forward a couple of months here and slip straight into the Winter Soldier storyline. Credit to @angrybirdcr​ for another lovely edit, and this re-post contains additional materiel- I’ve written the mission out instead of merely skipping over it.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 End of March/Beginning of April 2014

“Turn it off,” Katie’s voice was muffled from the pillow she had buried her face into as the alarm rang around the dark bedroom. Steve moved slightly to turn it off, but he wasn’t fast enough for his Girlfriend’s liking. “Steve!”

With a huff he leaned over and slapped the offending item with his palm, hitting the snooze button.

“Why is it even set?” She grumbled “It’s not like you don’t normally wake up at the crack of dawn anyway…and who uses an alarm clock when they have a phone?”

“You know, no one makes you stay here.” Steve teased, with a chuckle moving so that his front was pressed to her back.

“You’ve been away for five days, I never sleep as well when you’re not here.” She mimicked his line from the night before in a baby voice.

“And that’s why the alarm is set, because I do sleep better with you.” His arms circled her waist and he grinned to himself as despite the fact she was grumpy and tired she melted into his arms as he nuzzled at her neck, revelling in her smell, her warmth.

“Jerk.” She grumbled. “I mean what time is it anyway?” There was a pause as he continued to simply breathe her in and she glanced at her phone giving a scoff as she saw the ridiculous time on the screen “5:30? In the morning. Five. Thirty…”

“You said you wanted to go running.” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“No, you said you were going running and I said I might tag along because I’ve eaten nothing but shit whilst I’ve been in New York, which, by the way is your fault…”

“My fault?” Steve laughed, cracking an eye open “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly” she muttered “No one to stop me.” “I wouldn’t stop you anyway. You’re a big girl, you make your own decisions…” “Big girl? You calling me fat?” she teased as she rolled onto her back and turned her head to face his, just about making out his features in the dark room. He rolled his eyes, God she was a pain in the ass at times.

“Yeah, you’re huge.” he deadpanned, his hand travelling over her flat stomach and coming to rest on her hip. “Enormous.”

“Ok, well now that we’ve established I need to run, you know on account of me being a hippo, that still doesn’t answer the question why we have to go so damned early anyway. It’s not like we have to be anywhere…” “It’s less crowded.” he shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s because it’s a ridiculous time.”

“Stop being a fucking brat!” Steve laughed and she huffed out breath again.

“I’m not being a brat, it’s just a stupid time to be getting up.”

“I love how full of sunshine and happiness you are in the morning.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head so his lips could gently trail a few lazy kisses down her neck before landing at her collarbone and giving a quick nip, his hand tightening on her hip.

She sighed, her body already starting to respond to his touch, the way it always did, betraying her. 

Damned him and his fucking bastard sex appeal.

“Okay, if you want to actually get up now…” She muttered, as his mouth travelled back up and she rolled her head back to give him access to the spot on her neck that drove her wild every time he found it.  “I suggest you stop.” “I hit the snooze button.” he muttered, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “We got about eight minutes left.”

“Eight minutes? You have a very high opinion of yourself.” Katie replied, tilting her head so she was looking at him, smirking.

Steve said nothing, just cocked a single, mischievous brow at her before his lips met hers, his hand running down from hip to thigh then across, parting her legs slightly. They were still naked from the night before, clothes strewn all over the apartment after he’d been so desperate to get his hands on her.

She moaned gently into his mouth as he slowly sank two fingers into her and her hips instantly bucked upwards, drawing a grin from his mouth. 

“Easy, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth returning to her neck.

Four minutes later she lay beneath him, a quivering wreck and he was right behind her, two shallow thrusts later as he tumbled over that edge with a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he fell forward onto her. He smirked into her neck when she had finally regained her senses enough to quip that he’d beaten his best time by a full sixty seconds. And sixty seemed to be the flavour of the day as it was almost another sixty minutes before they got to his favoured running spot, the National Mal thanks to the fact it had taken Katie half an hour minutes to locate her running shoes which she’d eventually found in her car.  Steve had seized the opportunity, as always to lament her for the fact she was messy. 

“I’m not messy.” She scoffed indignantly as they walked the seven blocks. “I’m just not as OCD about everything being in its right place, all the time, like a neat-freak Soldier”

The good natured jibing had continued until they reached their destination and walked through the park to the reflecting pool

“How many laps did you do last time?” Katie asked, as Steve stretched his arms upwards, cracking his back.

“Six.” he said.

She looked at him, frowning. “That’s like what? Twenty miles?”

“Nearer twenty-two.” He grinned.  “You want me to keep your pace?”

She laughed “No way, you’ll just bitch at me for being slow.”

“I do not bitch…” “You bitch like a 14 year old girl.” Katie lamented, gently shoving him in his back. “Now go, go on!”

He smiled again, jogging backwards for a second before he set off at a rate of knots. Exercise always made him feel good. Running, boxing, sparring…fucking. Pushing away the dirty thoughts that had arisen to the forefront of his mind, he was quick to find a comfortable pace, his trainer clad feet slapping the concrete.

It didn’t take Katie long to find her rhythm either. Despite not being with SHIELD anymore she had kept her fitness training up, sparring three times a week with either Natasha or Steve in the local gym. She was technically still an Avenger after all, Tony having now fashioned her another Supernova suit which was basically a version of his latest Iron Man suit but in Silver and Blue, the Nova shaped star sported in the chest where the mini arc reactor powered it. She’d given it a trial run whilst she had been back in New York and was just as impressed with it now as she had been with the prototype he had blown up.

Her feet gently slapped the ground as she ran, the sun was rising on the last day of March and it was promising to be a sunny, bright spring morning.

"Hi.” A voice greeted her as another jogger she hadn’t seen before caught up with her and fell into step with her.

“Nice day for it!”  Katie smiled.

“You normally run this early?” He asked “Haven’t seen you around before.”

“That’s because I don’t normally run here!” She smiled “But I just spent 5 days in New York eating crap so…!”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Sam Wilson.”

She took it and gave it a shake. “Katie Stark.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Sam grinned “I didn’t recognise you. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As Steve was about to lap Katie for the first time he noticed she was running with another jogger, a black man wearing a grey sweater with short, cropped hair. At one time this would have sparked the green eyed monster in his chest, but not now. Not only did he know she wouldn’t stand for it, but he knew she was just sociable in general. She would talk to anyone given the chance and moreover, she was his girl, he knew that. As he approached them he breathed out an “On your left.” as a warning as he sped past into his second lap.

Sam frowned, looking round and Katie smirked, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as Steve’s frame whizzed off into the distance.

“I never tire of looking at these.” She commented a short while later as they rounded the monument.

Again the sound of heavy footsteps came. “On your left.”

“On your left.”

“Uh-huh. On my left. I got it.” Sam called after him as he entered his fifth lap.

Katie didn’t even try to stop herself this time and she laughed at the slight look of frustration on Sam’s face.

Not long after they were making a lap around the pool at the base of the memorial. Sam gritted his teeth at the wholly unwelcomed sound of footsteps behind him once again, he looked over his shoulder “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!” Sam shouted and Steve allowed an amused smile to spread across his face.

Sam tried his hardest to pick up his speed to match that of Steve’s but failed miserably after only a few moments, now completely gassed out.

“Are you alright?” Katie asked laughing as she approached his hunched over figure, catching her own breath.

“Oh, here he comes…Superman himself…” Sam said gesturing to where Steve was now walking towards them, hands on his hips. He paused at his girl’s side and looked down at Sam.

“Need a medic?” he teased.

“I need a new set of lungs.” Sam chuckled breathlessly. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start.” He shrugged, shooting Katie a pointed look. She responded with her best innocent stare, batting her eyelids at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the stranger who began to talk again.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap.” He scolded jokingly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve smiled, he couldn’t help but like this man. As he looked at him, he noticed the military symbol on his grey sweater.

“What unit were you with?” Steve asked changing the subject and motioning to the man’s shirt.

“Fifty-eighth, Para-rescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.” He said motioning for help up.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve held out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet.

“I kind of put that together.” Sam said as he tried to catch his balance. “Must have freaked you out, coming round after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to. But I’ve had help.” He smiled, looking at Katie who grinned back. “Good to meet you Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Sam!” Katie smiled as Steve gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her away.

"It’s your bed right?” Sam called out from behind him.

Steve paused and they both turned back around. “What’s that?”

“Your bed, it’s too soft.” Sam went on to explain. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground and use rocks as pillows. Like cavemen. Now I’m back home, in my own bed, feels like-”

Steve cut him off. “Like lying on a marshmallow, feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.”

"How long?” He asked Sam

“Two tours.” Sam responded. “You must miss the good old days huh?”

“Well, things aren’t so bad.” He folded his arms, taking a quick glance at Katie who raised her eyebrow at him, teasingly. “Foods a lot better. We used to boil everything. No polio that’s good.” He paused before making a gesture with his hand. “Internet so helpful, I’ve been reading that a lot tryna’ catch up.”

Sam nodded and then moved his right hand from where it had been folder across his chest and held it, fingers extended. “Marvin Gaye, 1972, ‘Troubleman’ soundtrack.” He said, returning his arm to its resting position “Everything you’ve missed jammed into one album.”

“Ohhh man!” Katie groaned “I love that film.”

Steve nodded, smiling and pulled out the notebook she had bought him the previous year, “I’ll put it on the list.”

“We can download it later.” Katie offered. Steve smiled as he closed his book before he reached into his other pocket for his phone which was going off. It was Natasha.

'Mission Alert. Extraction imminent. Meet you at the curb :)’

He showed the message to Katie who read it whilst he looked over at Sam.

“Well Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run. If that’s what you wanna call running.” He joked extending his hand.

“Oh that’s how it is?” Sam says amused shaking the offered hand.

“That’s how it is.” Steve responded, laughing slightly.

“Okay, anytime you two wanna stop by the VA. Make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve said as Natasha pulled up in her black chevvy sports car.

“Hey guys, anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She quipped.

“Hey Nat!” Katie waved at her and she nodded whilst Steve simply shook his head.

“That’s hilarious.” He commented dryly as he turned to Katie. “I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay?” She took a deep breath. “Be careful.” She instructed as she leaned up to give him a kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve made his way to the car, opened the passenger side of the car and dropped into the seat.

“How you doing?” Sam called with a smile as he squat down to get a better view of both Natasha and the car.

“Hey.” She responded with a small smile.

“Can’t run everywhere.” Steve joked smugly, looking back at the man.

“No you can’t.” Sam chuckled and Steve shot one last look at Katie who waved as Natasha surged the car forward.

Katie watched them go before she turned to Sam.

“Military girlfriend huh?” He teased and she laughed.

“Something like that.” “Fancy a coffee?” Sam nodded to one of the stands parked over on the square and she smiled.

“Sure, why not?”

Sam insisted on paying, despite Katie’s protests and they took their coffees over to a bench, sitting down in the early morning sun. As they talked, Katie fast realised she really liked this man, and he was pretty damned interesting too. He told Katie about his time serving in Afghanistan and how he had chosen, post the loss of his partner, Riley, to leave active service and focus his attention on helping others through work at the VA.

Katie had never really dug into the VA much, but it seemed like it did some pretty good work, helping those Soldiers who needed help adjusting to life post discharges for medical or mental health reasons. Sam confided in her that the DC branch was under threat due to lack of funding, and she made a mental note to speak to Tony about it being something that maybe the Stark Relief fund could look into partnering.

When they both realised they had been sat on the bench chatting for almost an hour and a half the pair of them both, knowing they had other places to be, exchanged numbers and she promised to pass his onto Steve.

The rest of her day went pretty quick, in a flourish of telephone conferences and various other ad-hoc emails to deal with, talking to the editors and Business Development team about potential authors to target. By the time she logged off for the evening it was gone eight. She leaned back in her chair, glancing up at the photos that decorated her office, her eyes being drawn to the one on the shelf of herself and Steve which had been taken at the New Years Eve gala last year. 

Picking up her phone she debated texting him, but she knew better than to bother him. From personal experience, STRIKE missions were heavy going. Instead she decided she was going to break with their usual routine whereby he would come to hers if it wasn’t too late post mission, and she was going to wait for him at his.

******

 “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star.” Rumlow spoke, moving images along a screen as they all stood watching as the jet flew over the Indian ocean. “They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asked.

“A billion and a half.”

“Why so steep?” Steve asked, frowning. That wasn’t so much steep as fucking vertical.

“Because it SHIELD’s.” Rumlow replied and Steve took a deep breath.

“So it’s not off-course, its trespassing.” He said exasperatedly, turning to his left and looking at Natasha.

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” She met his eyes, her face not faltering for a second.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.” Steve raised his eyebrows as she looked back at the screen.

“Relax.” She drawled. “It’s not that complicated”

“How many pirates?” Steve looked back at Rumlow.

“Twenty-five.” he replied, once more swiping at the screen. “Top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc” he pulled up a photo of Batroc on the monitor. “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.”

“Hostages?” Steve pressed.

“Uh…mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” Rumlow flashed up Sitwell’s photo and Steve shifted slightly “They’re in the galley.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” He queried, an air of frustration in his tone as he pulled on his gloves before he took a breath and issued his instructions without waiting for an answer. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep up after, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow nodded to his team and they all began to bustle around the jet.

Steve moved towards the back, checking his ear piece, raising his wrist communicator to his mouth. “Secure channel seven.”

“Seven secure.” Nat picked up a few more bits of equipment from the shelves, passing a coms device to Evans as Steve walked behind her to the ramp. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, seeing as all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, I had to settle for a movie and pizza with my girl.” He shrugged as he fit his ear piece, a smile tugging at his face. “Yeah, it was fun.”

Natasha grinned and Evans gave a chuckle as the pilot spoke into his ear. “Coming up by the drop zone, Cap.”

Steve punched the button to lower the ramp before he grabbed his helmet.

“You know, I think it’s cute. You’re like a regular, normal couple.”  Evans said, and Steve turned to him as he fastened the straps on his helmet.

“That’s because we are normal.” He replied, a little louder as the noise of the air blowing through the ramp surrounded them. Steve grabbed his shield and swung it onto his back, the irony of his statement making him smile even more as he walked towards the end of the ramp.

“Yeah, because most people do this type of stuff for a living.” Natasha shot after him and he turned to face her, smirking.

“Well, at least it doesn’t get boring.” He grinned, before he threw himself off the jet.

“Was he wearing a parachute?” Rollins turned to Rumlow who gave a huff of a smile.

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

Steve held his arms and hands out to the side of himself as he was free falling through the air, before he shifted, straightening his legs out below him and crossing his arms over his chest. He speared straight into the ice cold water below and, after a moment to adjust, he started swimming toward the ship, using the anchor chain to climb up onto the deck. He dropped silently over the railings and grabbed the guard who had walked past seconds before in a choke hold, rendering him unconscious as noiselessly as he could. Then he set off at a sprint and it wasn’t long before he encountered two more of the pirates. Using his shield he hit the first one and took him down then sent the vibranium weapon flying once more where it ricocheted off the hull of the boat and took down the second. He caught it and continued running around the side of the deck where he encountered another three. The first one he dispatched with a harsh kick, taking the others down with a quick leg swipe and a harsh punch to the face. The next one he saw wasn’t looking so Steve sped up and used his momentum to shoulder barge him over the side of the ship, before he launched at the next one, taking him down with a swinging choke hold. The one after had a knife, which was slightly more inconvenient, but Steve managed to disarm him and used the dagger he now had possession of to pin one of the other guards hands to the wall as he was reaching up to hit the alarm button, before knocking him out with a kick to the head.

That was how it went for the most of it. Steve ran the entire deck, taking everyone down using his shield, arms, legs, body, any means he had before anyone could raise the alarm. And he was almost home and dry, until he dispatched of what he thought was the final merc, until as he caught his shield, he heard the click of a gun right behind his head.

“Bouge pas!” The man spoke and Steve tilted his head slightly to glance at the man in his peripheral, understanding the words to mean don’t move. So he didn’t, especially not as he had just spotted Rumlow drifting down towards the deck. The STRIKE leader shot at the pirate, taking him down and landed a few feet away.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded to him.

“Yeah. You seemed pretty helpless without me.” Rumlow joked and Steve turned to see Natasha and Evans parachute down onto the deck to join them.

“So you know you said before about things not getting boring?” Natasha asked as they strode across the deck, Steve slinging his shield onto his back. “If you ever need any tips on how to keep it from getting boring in the bedroom, just ask.”

Steve shook his head and let out a groan.

“When you gonna ask her to move in with you?” Nat continued.

“Secure the engine room, then we can talk about my sex life and living arrangements.” Steve deadpanned back

“I’m multitasking” Nat sing-songed as she effortlessly hopped over a set of railings, disappearing onto the lower part of the deck.

Steve set off at a run, vaulting up a few steps, using railings to swing himself onto the higher level of the ship before he stopped just below the bridge, shooting one of Lawson’s listening devices at the windows. He listened in as Batroc instructed his men to fire the engines and then Steve retreated to a spot where he could see Batroc clearly through the window of the control bridge. Crouching down he continued to listen into their conversation, easily able to understand the French they were speaking, one of his many skills picked up in the war. It had come easy post the serum, as with everything it had enhanced his ability to memorise and grasp things like that.

Batroc was being informed by one of his officers about the radio silence from SHIELD and Steve watched carefully before Evans’ voice cut across the jabbers of French.

“Targets acquired”

“STRIKE in position” Rumlow replied.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” Steve whispered into his wrist coms, but there was no reply. “Status, Natasha?”

“Hang on!” She said loudly, and Steve waited as he heard a bit of a struggle before she spoke again twenty or so seconds later. “Engine room secure.”

That was it, they were clear to engage.

“On my mark” Steve whispered “Three. Two. One.”

With that he set off running towards the bridge, leaping up a small set off steps before he flung his shield through the window. He jumped in after it and Batroc caught him with a kick to the chest before sprinting off and kicking his way out of the door. Steve jumped up, wrenched his shield from where it had been wedged in the metal panels at the back of the control room and ran after him.

“Hostages on route to extraction.” Rumlow informed as Steve emerged onto the end of a set of steps. “Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap.” The STRIKE leader continued as Steve jumped down onto the main area of the deck. “Hostiles are still in play.”

Steve looked around before he turned on his heels and started walking “Natasha, Batroc’s on the move.” He instructed quietly into his coms. “Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.”

There was no reply, and Steve was starting to get pissed off at her radio silence.

“Natasha!”

But then, out of nowhere Batroc flew at him with another harsh kick which sent Steve flying, and no sooner had he righted himself, there came another. The two engaged, toe to toe, fists flying, legs kicking, arms blocking and Steve had to hand it to Batroc, even after he knocked him down with his shield, the man was quickly back on his feet. Steve aimed a knee to his gut and flipped him backwards only to see Batroc effortlessly fling himself into several back flips before landing on his feet a short distance away, smirking as he eyed Steve up.

“Je croyais que tu étais plus qu'un bouclier.” He chuckled slightly and Steve cocked his head to one side, chewing over the man’s words… I thought that you were more than just a shield.

The arrogance in Steve won out and he straightened up out of his attack stance. You wanna go, fucker? Fine. Let’s dance.

He took a breath, stashing his shield on the harness round his back, and undid his chin strap, pulling his helmet off. “On va voir.” He said simply, tossing it to the floor, his eyes not once leaving Batroc’s who gave a huge grin.

They dodged for a second or two before they began to fight once more, trading punches, kicks and a few more knees to the gut before Steve threw himself up into the air, twirling his body round into a huge over-head kick, connecting his boot straight with Batroc’s head. Batroc fell to the floor and soon staggered back to his feet, but Steve didn’t give him chance to recover properly. He ran at him, spearing them both through a door, and sitting up slighting, Steve knocked Batroc out with a huge punch to the head.

He took a moment to draw his breath when a voice rang out across the room.

“Well, this is awkward.”

He looked up to see Natasha smirking at him from where she was bent over a computer.

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded as he rose to his feet.

“Backing up the hard drive. It’s a good habit to get into.”  She retorted.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, happy Batroc was still out cold, before he strode purposefully towards her.

“Rumlow needed your help. What the hell are you doing here?” He drew up behind her and glanced at the screens. As it registered what she was doing he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re saving SHIELD Intel.”

“Whatever I can get my hands on.” She drawled, still tapping at the computer as she looked at him, before turning back to the screen.

“Our mission is to rescue hostages.” Steve glared at her.

“No. That’s your mission.” Natasha corrected as she finished what she was doing and pulled the pen drive out of the slot. She turned towards him and smiled causing Steve’s anger to bubble even more. “And you’ve done it beautifully.” Her tone was almost patronising as she smirked, moving to pass him.

At that, Steve felt his temper snap and he grabbed her arm stopping her in her tracks. “You just jeopardized this whole operation.”

“I think that’s overstating things.” Natasha stated calmly but before Steve had time to reply a movement caught his attention. Batroc stood up and threw a grenade at the two of them as he ran off. Steve deflected the bomb with his shield before he grabbed Natasha round the waist and hopped up onto the desks. Jumping to another one, Natasha shot out one of the glass windows into an internal office and they dived in just as the bomb exploded.

Smoke, ash and debris rained down on them and Steve gave it a second before he looked over his shoulder and out before sitting back down to take a moment. He was beyond pissed off. Pissed at Natasha and pissed at Fury for not bothering to tell him the full story.

“Okay. That one’s on me.” Natasha breathed out.

“You’re damn right.” Steve grit his teeth and pushed himself up, storming out in anger. Of course, Batroc was nowhere to be found.

**** Steve was that angry about the cluster-fuck of a mission that he didn’t speak a word to Natasha all the way home and yes, he knew it was childish, but he was getting seriously pissed off at the secrets and lies that seemed to be part and parcel of any goddamned mission Fury sent him on. Once back at base he stormed off the jet, ignoring pretty much everyone and simply barking out that they would debrief in the morning.

It was just before midnight when he got home, and as he pulled his bike up into the designated space allotted for his apartment, he noticed Katie’s car was in one of the guest spaces that lined the street. He frowned slightly, she never normally waited at his for him. Not for any particular reason other than he normally spent the hours or so after a mission debriefing before heading home to decompress for a few hours and then if it wasn’t too late he would head to hers. But the more he thought about it now he realised that he had no idea why he did it that way. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what it was like being a SHIELD operative, or that he didn’t want her at his. 

Knowing that she was there made him smile for the first time since he’d left the Lemurian Star and, despite his various aches and bruises, he found himself taking the steps to his apartment three at a time, his eagerness to see her wiping all other thoughts from his mind.

She was on the couch, bare denim-short clad legs tucked underneath her, and she looked up from the TV as he walked into the living area and leaned in the doorway, smiling softly at the sight of her, hair tousled slightly from where she had been leaning her head against the arm of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” He asked gently as she sat up.

“Decided I’d wait for you.” She shrugged “You complaining?” “Not at all.” He smiled, turning away as he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the stools by the breakfast bar before he crossed the room.

“You had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She replied as he walked back into the lounge. “Vanity Fair have written the article already, if I’m happy with it tomorrow then it’s going to be published this month.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at her tone. She was proud, and she had every right to be. So was he. Stark Independent Publishing LTD had taken off like a rocket and the glossy magazines were queuing up to interview the youngest Stark prodigee. She had declined all of them until the board had suggested she do one interview for Vanity Fair, along with a photoshoot in her office. She’d reluctantly agreed, but had confided in Steve she’d actually kind of enjoyed it.

“That’s fast.” he said, heading back into the room.

“Yeah they’re really pushing for it.” She smiled as he dropped besides her with a groan, lifting her legs up so they crossed his lap. As he did so he jostled the bruised ribs and muscles he’d obtained on the Lemurian Star and let out a hiss, rubbing slightly at his torso. Katie spotted this, as always, and frowned, moving her legs so she was sat up, scooting over to where he was and gently tugged at his t-shirt. He didn’t stop her as she examined the large bruise over the side of his ribs and gently ran her fingers over it.

“Ouch.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him and then tilting his face round. He knew there was a small cut on his temple but other than that and the bruise to his side he was uninjured. “Is this it?”

He nodded.

“So how did you do it this time?”

“I got blown through a window.” Because that was a perfectly normal thing for Captain America to do, Katie merely rolled her eyes and dropped a kiss to his cheek as she stood up “I’ll get the arnica and fix you something to eat”

He loved this, the way she just wanted to take care of him, but he was aware of what time it was too, and he didn’t want her to feel like she had to play the dutiful housewife.

“Kitten, you should go to bed, its late.” He grabbed her hand. “Once I’ve patched you up and fed you I will.” She shrugged stubbornly, tugging gently on his hand and he allowed himself to be pulled up “Go take a shower, I’ll sort your dinner.”

This time he didn’t protest, simply smiled, dropped a kiss to her head and headed to the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot water cascading from the shower and let out a groan as it hit his body, allowing it temporarily to soothe his mind and his aches. He still couldn’t shake his annoyance at how the mission was gone. Suddenly, he was distracted by his stomach grumbling and he realised he was actually really hungry. He quickly washed off before cutting the water and stepping out, grabbing a towel. He could hear Katie in the kitchen as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom where he dried himself off and dressed in a pair of loose sweats and a grey T-shirt.

The smell of food hit his nostrils as he walked into the kitchen, making his mouth water. Her food was always good, he had no idea what he was in for tonight but he didn’t care. As he approached where she was stood, both his hands dropped to her hips and he placed a soft kiss on her neck, an easy sign of affection before he let out a heavy sigh and reached into the refrigerator.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” She asked, turning to look at him as he downed pretty much an entire bottle of water before he slumped down at the breakfast bar and explained everything to her. She listened, asked questions, shook her head, and when he reached the bit about the ransom she whistled slightly through her teeth, coming to the same conclusion he had when he heard the demand.

“That’s steep.” she frowned and Steve snorted.

“That’s what I said. Turns out its SHIELDS.“

The microwave finished and Katie moved to open the door, stirring whatever was in there before removing it and placing it down in front of him, along with a plate of his favourite bread. He was silent for a moment as he stirred the hot stew, Ghoulash, before taking a small mouthful to test the heat. Damned she could cook. He nodded appreciatively.

“It’s good.” “You sound surprised.”

“Behave.” He admonished, giving her a look. “You know what I think about your cooking.”

He continued to eat as she stood up and fished about in the cupboard he stored the bottle of Arnica gel she insisted he keep to hand. As he ate, she settled next to him and hitched his shirt up, gently and carefully applying the ointment to his side. The bruise extended from the middle of his rib cage to an inch or so beneath the band of his sweats.

It was relaxing, and he relished her touch and her gentle tone as she continued to talk.

“So did you get the hostages?”

“Yeah.” He nodded in between mouthfuls. “That bit was pretty easy all things considered.”

“So what’s wrong, love?”

She could tell there was more to his mood than what he had told her, and her instincts were proven right when he let out a soft sigh as she continued to rub at his side softly.

“I’m just annoyed Sweetheart.” He sighed eventually “At Fury, at Romanoff.”

“At Nat? Why?”

“She was running a separate mission, which meant the task I gave her to back Rumlow up with the hostages wasn’t done.”

“Fury?”

He nodded.

“More secrets” Katie sighed, feeling a flash of anger. “You know this is exactly why I got out…legacy or no legacy.”

“Tell me about it.” He dropped the spoon into the empty bowl. “We were lucky no one was hurt, or worse. I mean, Rumlow was great, got everyone out but, Doll, how can I lead a team when half of them are lying to me?”

“Nat was just doing as she was told.” Katie spoke softly, trying to deal with each issue one at a time.

“Since when is retrieving Intel more important than people’s lives?”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying don’t be so hard on her.” She reasoned, her fingers still tracing shapes on his skin. “She has a job to do, same as you. Its Fury you should be talking to about it.”

“Oh I intend to.” Steve snorted. “I’m going to go see him tomorrow morning after de-brief…”

“Well, at least you’ll get an explanation. I mean it might not be what you wanna hear but…”

She was right, of course. Pushing it from his mind, Steve concentrated on her touch as she was still gently rubbing his side. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and was disappointed when she finally finished and let his t-shirt fall down before she stood up to put the ointment away.

“You want any more to eat?” She asked, once she’d washed the arnica off her hands.

“Is there any?” He looked at her hopefully.

She smiled, nodding, and then gave a small yawn which she tried to stifle, but Steve noticed it.

“Okay, I’ll warm some more up and you’re gonna go to bed.” He said, standing up “And that’s an order.”

“Bossy bastard” She retorted. He replied simply with a raised an eyebrow and stern glare as he crossed towards her. She held her hands up, “Okay, I’m going…” She leaned up to kiss to his cheek.

“Won’t be long.” He smiled.

Steve had another bowl of food before he slipped the dishes into the dishwasher and headed to the bathroom to clean his teeth. He turned off the lights, crossed into the dark bedroom and pulled off his T-shirt, sliding into bed behind Katie. His arm curled over her waist, surprise surprise she was in one of his shirts, which did nothing to ebb his growing desire and the twitching in his groin. Hoping she wasn’t asleep, his nose gently nuzzled at her neck, and he was pleased when she responded.

He needed this. Wanted this. Wanted her.

“When you told me to go to bed…” Katie sighed, as his lips gently started their assault on that spot, “I thought you meant to sleep.” “Want me to stop?” Steve practically purred into her neck.

“Didn’t say that.” She replied, rolling her head to catch his lips as his hand crept down her inner thigh. She let out a contented sigh and he smiled against the side of her neck as he traced his fingers over her hip, hand flattening as it crept down and round to the top of her panties, his fingers slipping inside, where he found her hot, wet, ready for him. It was enough to harden him completely as he started to gently tease her, causing her to groan at the pleasure, her back arching whilst his lips continued to kiss and caress her neck.

“Steve.” She moaned softly, her tone pleading. “I want you…”

Fuck, he would never get tired of hearing that. Ever. 

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Please Stevie.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to her. His hand moved up and he gripped at her hip, gently rolling her so she was lay on her back, using his leg to part hers. He guided his shirt over her head, pulled down her panties, before he stripped off his boxers, fingers lacing in between hers, as he crawled over her, pinning both hands above her head as he worked his way into her. They both groaned as he stretched her, and she looked up at him, those eyes locking onto his as he leant down to kiss her, starting up a slow, gentle pace. He moved slowly, again and again, lips caressing hers, then her jaw, then her neck, all the time his hands wrapped around hers, causing her to surrender to him completely.

He kept up that soft, gentle pace, loving her completely. He could tell she was close, he knew the signs well enough now and as she groaned in delight, tightening around him he coaxed her, “That’s it baby girl…” lips soft on her ear.

And then she came, shuddering underneath him, her head tipping back, as she let out a gentle, low, broken moan of his name. It sent shivers down his spine and he continued to thrust through her orgasm, the tale heat spreading across his belly and then he tipped too, jerking and groaning slightly before he fell forward, burying his face in to her neck.

“Love you.” She whispered softly into his ear as her hand ran up his neck, into his hair and he gave a hum of contentment as he regained control of his senses.

“Love you too, so damned much, Sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose up against hers and she chuckled slightly as he rolled off of her. She scooted closer so she could lay her head on his chest and his arm curled round her, large hand tracing shapes on her skin at the bottom of her back as she tossed her leg over his.

“What time are you in tomorrow?” She asked gently, hand rubbing absentmindedly over his chest.

“Half nine.” He gave a sated yawn.

“We can have breakfast together, I made cinnamon rolls.” She muttered through a yawn of her own.

“That so?” “mmmhmmm”

“You know, you’d make a good little housewife.” He grinned, thinking back to his thought before. He knew her response before she had uttered it. “Fuck you.” He chuckled, dropping a kiss to her head and they both fell silent. And his last thought as he drifted off to sleep was just how her being here had made him almost forget his worries.

Katie lay still, listening to the sound of his breathing which grew even as he fell asleep, clearly exhausted. He always needed food and rest after missions, his metabolism drained him. She stole a glance up at him, long eyelashes lay against his cheek as his head lolled to the side slightly, facing her.

“Night soldier.” She whispered softly, placing a peck on his lips before settling down and succumbing to her own tiredness. ********* Katie woke the next morning, tangled in Steve’s arms, his face pressed into her neck as he’d done his usual koala impression. As gently as she could, she moved to check her phone for the time, and found it to be twenty-five past seven, five minutes before her alarm was due to go off. Cancelling it, she glanced back over at Steve who shifted onto his back, the arm that had been thrown around her gently resting on his chest. Smiling, she climbed out of bed deciding to leave him to sleep as long as she could.

Considering what a light sleeper he normally was, Steve didn’t stir when Katie returned following her shower and was still out of it when she finished dressing so she unset the alarm on his bedside clock and headed to the kitchen. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, threw the fresh rolls she had made the previous day into the oven and settled down on his couch, flipping on the TV whilst she quickly scanned through her phone, looking at her schedule for the day. She only had one meeting in the afternoon, and it wasn’t important so she fired an email through to her PA asking her to reschedule.

At about eight-fifteen, there was still no sign of Steve so Katie headed through to the bedroom to wake him up. Any longer and he would be late for his debrief. He was lay side on, facing her side of the bed so she dropped next to him…

Something was tickling his nose, right on the bridge. He gently sniffed, and then soft lips met his. Again, again…Steve made a completely involuntary noise that was halfway between a groan and a sigh as he realised his girl was kissing him awake, before her lips met his and this time he gently responded.

“Hey.” That soft voice greeted him and he smiled, gently cracking an eye open and meeting that emerald green.

“Morning” He said groggily and she smiled.

“It’s almost eight-fifteen.”

He frowned, that was late. “My alarm didn’t wake me?” “I turned it off, sorry-not-sorry” She said with a tone so blasé it made him chuckle “You needed the rest.” She gave him a soft kiss again “There’s coffee in the kitchen and breakfast is ready.” “You know I could get used to this” He rolled over so he was on his back as she rose from the bed. “Coming home to a ready-made dinner, waking up to ready-made breakfast before I go to work. And you.” “Nice to see which one of those is your priority.” She teased over her shoulder as she left him to it.

“Always you, Doll.” he murmured with a smile. But as he lay still for another few minutes, he thought about it more and more. Over the past four months, other than when they were away either on missions or business trips they had spent every night together, either at his or hers but last night, something had felt different to him, more intimate. She’d taken care of his mission injuries, cooked for him, made love to him, and now here she was making him breakfast before she would wave him off to work later on. It was almost normal, what people with mundane nine to five jobs did. And he realised he wanted that all the time, he wanted to come home, find her there, wake up with her, every single day.

“When you gonna ask her to move in?” Natasha’s voice popped back into his head.

If he was honest, he hadn’t given it a lot of thought, it wasn’t something people did back in his time before marriage. But times were different, hell he was different, and as he lay there contemplating it, he realised, it wasn’t such a bad idea.

When he headed through, Katie was sat at the kitchen table, laptop fired up, mobile glued to her ear.

“I know!” Her tone was one of utter excitement. “I mean I didn’t think they would turn out so good…or they’d be done so fast but they’re pushing for this month’s edition…”

He dropped a kiss to her neck and glanced at the screen, pausing when he saw the image. It must have been one of the photos done whilst she was in New York and as he looked at it, he felt his mouth drop open. His girl was stood against a wall in her office in the tower, one leg bent, high heeled foot raised back against the flat surface behind her, palms splayed either side of her thighs as she looked to the right. Her hair was pulled back in a slick, high pony tail, her make-up was heavier than normal and utterly flawless, and she was dressed in a grey charcoal pinstripe suit which cinched in at her waist, with a low cut white blouse underneath.

“Yeah, I know Tony.” She continued speaking into the phone as she glanced up and saw the expression on his face. She pressed a button on the keyboard and it flipped to another picture, this one of her sat in her chair, legs apart, elbows resting on her knees, as she looked beyond the camera, laughing at something. She looked absolutely fucking stunning. His eyes roved the image on the digital copy of the article and he began to read the writing that was next to it.

There are a lot of things you might absolutely hate about Katie Stark. Aged just twenty-nine she has more money than anyone could possibly wish to spend in a life-time, looks and a figure that you would kill for, and a Super Soldier Boyfriend with a jawline that seems to be carved from marble. However, after thirty seconds in her company despite wanting to hate her for all of the above, it was simply impossible not to like her.

Unassuming, accommodating, and with a smile that you simply can’t help but return, she welcomed us into her office and was remarkably humble about the entire thing, admitting that she still wasn’t quite so sure why we were so interested in her. We took the time to grill her on how the first three months of Stark Independent Publishing LTD has gone and what we can look forward to in the future.

Katie stood up and gestured for him to sit down and carry on reading the article. She headed off into the living room, continuing her call, so he read as he ate a hot cinnamon bun. The article ploughed through a load of questions about the book that had launched the business when they published, the fact the company had already registered over fifty-percent first quarter turnover, where she thought the business was going, future pipeline projects, her favourite authors, genre, books, previous role in Stark Industries before she had spent a few years working for a Government Agency following the Battle of New York (no mention of Supernova or SHIELD) and then the final paragraph took a personal turn.

When asked if she would indulge us with a personal question she sighed slightly before grinning and telling us to ask and see if she answered. So we did…

“We know that you’re a notoriously private person, in comparison to your brother anyway, but most of our readers are dying to know…what’s it like dating Captain America?”

“No idea, I’m dating Steve Rogers.” She replied immediately, a faint flush hitting her cheeks as she spoke, all the time fiddling with a delicate yet gorgeous antique looking emerald ring which sits on her right hand, a gift we suspect from the man in question. When asked to elaborate slightly, she bit her lip and simply smiled before explaining; “Steve isn’t just Captain America. There’s more to him than a shield. He’s the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever met and he makes me unbelievably happy.” The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears “And that’s not down to the Serum or outfit, it’s just who he is. The fact he’s 6ft2, drop dead gorgeous with a smile I’d happily die for is a bonus.”

Steve felt himself grin as he read the words and glanced at the small photo they had framed the paragraph round. It was the shot of them together that had been taken at the Stark Industry’s New Year’s Gala as they danced. His eyes continued to the final part of the article, this one complete with a picture of Katie and Tony. Katie sat at her desk as Tony leaned over, looking at something on the computer screen. 

When asked about the other man in her life, her brother Tony, she smiled again, another genuine smile, the love she has for her elder sibling evident on her face and in her voice.

“I owe everything I have to Tony. He brought me up from the age of seven, gave me absolute, unconditional love and opportunities I know I was extremely fortunate to have. People have a pre-conceived image of what he is like, and sometimes he can play into that, but to me he’s been nothing but loving and supportive, my father and brother rolled into one and I can’t thank him enough for everything he has done and given me. He backed my decision to open SIP from the off and believed in me and has always pushed me to be the best I can be.”

We couldn’t resist another personal question, so we asked her a little cheekily how Tony had reacted to news that she was dating one of his fellow Avengers, who had served alongside their Father Howard in WW2. Hesitating slightly, she flushed before smirking and answering, a grin on her face.

“How he found out wasn’t ideal, but once he realised we were serious, he was fine about it. I think deep down after my last car crash of a relationship, he’s just happy I’m with someone who puts me first.”

“Do they get on?” At that she laughed. “They have a love-hate relationship. In that they hate the fact they love one another. Tony has these ridiculous nicknames for Steve and he can be an absolute nightmare at times, but to be fair Steve’s quite sarcastic himself too but I know full well that they have each other’s six and, even though they would probably deny it, they are quite close and would miss one another if they weren’t around.”

Steve, grudgingly, had to admit she was right. Tony could be a pain in the ass at times, but he would miss the billionaire if he wasn’t there. Underneath all his bravado he knew that he thought the world of his sister and, despite their initial meeting whereby Steve frankly thought the guy was a dick, he’d fast learnt during the Chitauri Battle that underneath that persona he had a heart of gold and was more like his father than he would care to admit. A fact that Steve was even more convinced of having gotten to know him much better on a personal level over the last two years or so.

Whilst the siblings certainly share a lot of attributes, both good looking, tough, hard-working, Katie has a certain softness to her edges and we challenge anyone who spends time in her company not to warm to the youngest Stark. Stark Independent Publishing has, in our opinion, a very bright future ahead of it whilst it is spearheaded by such an astute and shrewd business woman and we wish her all the best.

“What do you think?” Katie watched as Steve read the article, leaning against the wall, nibbling at her thumb, nervous to see his reaction.

Steve jerked his head round and smiled at her. “I think it’s fantastic. The photos are stunning, the article is well written. Are you happy with it?” “Yeah.” she nodded as she walked over to his chair, standing behind it and slipping her arms round his shoulders from behind “They wouldn’t drop the whole So you’re dating Captain America angle though, so our PR department told me to answer a few personal questions to shut them up. Are you ok with it?” Steve smiled and turned side on in his seat, pulling her into his lap. “Seeing as I’m the kindest, gentlest, most caring man you’ve ever met how could I not be?” “I meant every word of that.” She smiled, rubbing her nose against his.

“I know baby.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Now I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”

Sighing she stood up as he did the same, grabbing a final cinnamon bun from the plate.

“I’ll be back at mine” She informed him as she walked to the door with him, “I have a few calls to do this morning.” “I’ll come over when I’m done.” He smiled. “And maybe we can do something this afternoon?”

“Sounds perfect”

***** Chapter 14

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #katie star #chris evans #chris evans characters

[oohnoniall]

A Court of Fire & Ice {Tamlin x OC} - Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

Chapter 6

Warnings: Tamlin is being portrayed as he is in ACOMAF and ACOWAR. Trigger warnings include fantasy violence, misogyny, swearing, and Tamlin being an uncontrollable rage beast (no domestic violence !!)

        The wedding seemed to come before he had a chance to process anything. He didn't know what he was doing with Lyriel. Ianthe still wanted him to banish her. Lucien told him how stupid it would be. But they didn't know. They couldn't know. Ianthe may have thought she knew something was up, but she could never be sure. Tamlin counted on her not being certain of anything. If she figured him out, everything would be chaos.

        Feyre had sunk into herself more and more. He wanted to fight it, wanted to bring her back to life. But he felt as though he couldn't. He didn't know the full truth of the horrors she went through. He just knew what he'd had to do. He couldn't compare either experience. It wouldn't be fair to either of them.

        Needless to say, the wedding felt as though it was the least important thing happening. He had briefly thought about postponing it. But Feyre had worked so hard on the plans. She deserved a perfect day. One where she did not have to think of anything, where she didn't have to worry about anything. Tamlin wouldn't allow his troubles to ruin anything for her. He wouldn't let any creatures come and interrupt the festivities either.

        If only he had known what she was hiding from him.

        His suit clung to him, making him feel claustrophobic. He had never felt so stifled before. The beast inside of him wanted to rip free of the clothing, wanted to react to the whole thing in a way that Tamlin would not allow. His emotions were all over the place. He felt as though he could barely breathe.

        It was a miracle he hadn't destroyed something yet.

        A gentle knock sounded on the door. "Enter," he called out as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

        Lyriel slipped silently into the room, her frozen berry scent giving her away. He glanced at her once through the mirror, his mouth going dry at the sight of her.

        She wore a dress of silk, as green as his eyes. A slight ran up her left leg, revealing a dagger sheathed at her thigh. The gown hugged the curves that her corsets and pants had never bothered to hide. But it seemed different. This was far more inviting. The beast inside of him wanted to touch her, to feel the soft skin of her thigh, of her arms. Her skin looked just a bit more tan than when she had first come, yet it still held the glow of the winter. Her hair fell in waves down her back, white as snow and so soft that he wanted to run his hands through it.

        The scars on her arms were still visible, as were the ones that ran up that delectable thigh. He wondered how many more were hidden underneath her gown. She had been a warrior for a long time. Longer than he ever would have expected.

        "You look beautiful," the words left his mouth before he could think about them. He swallowed once, trying to wet his dry throat. "But, uh, I doubt a dagger is an appropriate accessory."

        Her lips quirked into a smirk, a dimple appearing on the left side of her mouth. Had it always been there? Was he just noticing it now? "You'll have to take it from my dead body."

        Even when they were about to be parted for the rest of their lives, she still found it so easy to be Lyriel. Tamlin knew this wouldn't hurt her. She would get away from him without ever taking a backward glance at him. The thought killed him. Yet, at the same time, he knew he had no right to expect less of her. She deserved everything that he was getting. She deserved more.

        "Don't say that," he said as he turned to face her. He didn't miss the sparkle of amusement in her frozen eyes as she took in the sight of him in his finery.

        "You don't look like yourself," she stepped towards him slowly. Unsteadily. Tamlin glanced down once, noting the black heeled shoes she wore. She wasn't used to them, her steps small and uncertain. Or maybe she didn't want to be close to him. He couldn't blame her. She was losing a mate that she had never known. He was giving her up without ever actually rejecting her. They weren't supposed to be doing this. But he couldn't stop it. Neither could she.

        "What do you mean?" His voice was strained as she stopped just inches away from him. He kept his gaze at the wall behind her, trying not to think of the way her scent tickled his nose. He tried not to think of how her body had felt next to his. He tried not to think of how her hair had felt against his cheek.

        That night had been a mistake. One that he replayed over and over again in his mind. He would never have another night like that. Not with her.

        "You're not meant for finery," Lyriel stated, her hand slowly coming up. Her fingertips gently traced the shape of his cheekbone, going to his beard. She dropped her hand just before he had a chance to shudder. He hated what she was doing to him. Hated that she was playing with him. "You're meant to tear down kingdoms, to end tyranny. You're a warrior, Tam. Same as me."

        He stilled, hating the truth in her words. He had never wanted any of this. Had never wanted the responsibility. But he didn't want to be the monster everyone thought he was. He didn't think he was a warrior. He just didn't like to see injustice being done. Even if he knew, at this point, that there was very little he could do to stop it. 

        "Lyriel," he whispered her name, it felt like the beginnings of a secret song. "You should go. Home."

        A flash of something shone in her eyes as she stepped back from him. It was gone before he could figure out what it had been. "I understand. After the wedding, I'll depart with the rest of your guests. We wouldn't want to cause a scene, would we?" 

        Her voice had hardened. It wasn't the soft lilt she'd used when speaking to him of who he was. She sounded as though she had just spoken to her general. Maybe the respect should have made him happy, but it just chilled him.

        He went to open his mouth, to say something else. Anything to make this moment different. He didn't want to say goodbye to her, didn't want to let her go. But Tamlin knew that he would have to. It had donned on him when she had slipped into the room. When her dress had begged him to tear it from her, he had known that they could not do this. She needed to go her own way, find her own happiness. He had to allow her the opportunity. He couldn't be selfish.

        Not when it came to her.

        Lyriel slipped from the room before he could find the words to say. Her scent lingered, his body ached with the need to go after her. To comfort her. He didn't though. He just turned back to the mirror, wiping whatever emotion may have been lingering in his face. He wouldn't allow any of the guests to see what he was feeling. All anyone would see was a man who was about to marry the woman he loved. 

        The only woman he loved.

        "Tam," Lucien spoke from outside the room, his knuckles gently rapping on the wood. "It's time."

        Tamlin took a deep breath, looking himself over once more. He nodded at himself before he turned to leave. He stepped out of the room, clasping his best friend on the back. "How's Feyre?" It felt wrong not to ask, even if he knew it was probably inappropriate to ask about her.

        "About as nervous as you are," Lucien could read him too easily. It came from knowing each other as long as they had. He had never hated it before. "It's all going to be alright. As soon as you two are married, we can finally settle everything."

        He knew that Lucien was right. They had a long way to go to make damn well certain that the Spring Court would make it through the aftermath of everything. Not to mention preparing for a war that may or may not come. He had to hope that the wedding would at least give his people some faith that things were getting better. He had to hope they believed it. Even if he wasn't sure if he did.

        They made their way to the gardens, Tamlin painting a smile upon his face as they walked. He wanted everyone to see what they should. A man who was finally getting everything that he wanted. He greeted guests, laughing at jokes and making his own when it felt appropriate to do so. His gaze flickered around, not taking in the decor.

        The flowers were beautiful, wrapping around columns that had been erected for the wedding. He didn't care about them, didn't care about the way the breeze fluttered around them and wrapped them in warmth. His gaze searched for Lyriel.

        She was standing with a group of Spring Court lords, a glass of champagne in her hand and soft laughter falling from her lips. His stomach twisted. She looked so at ease. She didn't look like the woman who had just told him he wasn't meant for this life. She didn't look like the soldier that he knew she was.

        She looked like a lady of the court. Lyriel may have thought that she was not suited for anything but a blade and a shield, but he knew better. He could see it in the way she carried herself, in the way she had wrapped his lords around her finger. She belonged in court life. She would do well in it. Mother above, he wished he hadn't of thought about it.

        He knew that Lyriel would sooner take a sword to the throat than belong to this world.

        "Lyriel's leaving tonight," he murmured to Lucien. Needing to get the words out before they festered in his chest and became a disease.

        "What did you do, Tam?" Lucien's smile never faltered, the perfect portrait of a man at ease with his lot in life. Even if it had been particularly shitty. "Did you say something to her?"

        "No," he was somewhat affronted that Lucien had even thought that he could do something to Lyriel. "It's just time for her to go. We've got enough on our plates without worrying about the Winter Court and what information they could be gathering."

        "Why haven't you had Ari check her out?" Lucien questioned, taking a glass of champagne from a waiter. Feyre would not show for another half hour. Plenty of time to get drunk on faerie wine. Celebrations often turned into week-long events. That was one of the many reasons why Tamlin had not wanted to postpone the wedding.

        "Didn't think she would have the time," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "She's been too busy dealing with Rhysand and his moods."

        He did feel bad for sending the girl to the Night Court. But the opportunity had never presented itself before. A mating bond had snapped into place, a bond that they could easily exploit. It was a wonder that he had yet to do the same thing with Lyriel. He had to get away from her before he did something he regretted.

        Lucien gave him a quick look before he slipped away to speak with others. More people came up to Tamlin, laughing and talking with him about things that did not matter. None of this mattered. At least, he didn't feel as though it did. He was stupid for thinking it. Stupid for thinking anything bitter on the supposedly happiest day of his life. Tamlin hated to think that he was in a foul mood. He hated to think that anything was going to ruin this day.

        Feyre deserved so much better than him. He hated himself for thinking that.

        "It's time," Lucien murmured to him. 

        Tamlin's throat felt dry as he watched Ianthe take her place at the head of the alter. He took his own place to the right of Lucien. The guests took their seats, Lyriel in the very back. He hadn't noticed the flowers that she had braided into her hair until then. The periwinkle petals were bright in her white hair. She spoke in soft tones to a man who sat by her. Good, she didn't need to be alone during this.

        He tore his eyes from her as the music began to fill the air. Feyre stepped out of the manor, her gown more taffeta and looking as though it was the most uncomfortable thing she had ever worn in her life. He painted a smile on his face for her. 

        Her own smile did not reach her eyes. She looked anxious, as though she was afraid of everything that was happening. He chalked it up to the last time she had been in front of a crowd of this magnitude. He could imagine how she would have to tell herself that they were okay. She wasn't being made to compete in trials that would possibly end in her death. She was walking towards him. Towards their future together.

        Until she stopped.

        His brow furrowed, his feet already beginning to move toward her. Something was wrong. Something was happening that he was unaware of. Had something happened? Had she decided to hide from him again? When would they get to the point where they could actually speak to each other?

        A gentle breeze that smelled of spiced wine and the depths of depravity was the only warning. Rhysand appeared in the blink of an eye, a cruel smile on his lips as he looked down at Feyre.

        "Feyre, darling," Tamlin wanted to rip him limb from limb. His claws felt as though they were ready to poke out. He heard the sound of steel being drawn from a sheath. "I've come to make good on our bargain."

        Before Tamlin could say a word, Rhysand had her in his arms. 

        "She'll be back in two weeks," Rhysand winked casually at Tamlin. A snarl tore free from Tamlin's lips as the scent of spiced wine and depravity filled the air once more.

        A dagger embedded itself in the pillar just beside Tamlin's head. If it had been thrown a second earlier, it would have caught Rhysand straight in the throat. The dagger was unadorned, a simple blade that had been used countless times if the smoothness of the handle was anything to judge by. If anger had not clouded his senses, he would have realized it carried Lyriel's scent with it. He would have seen the woman standing up, the flower petals falling from her hair and a look of rage painted on her face. 

        "Find her," Tamlin shouted, his voice carrying farther than usual with his rage. His entire body was shaking, his claws out and the fangs pushing at his gums. It hurt, it hurt so much. But he couldn't stop the beast from taking over.

        The guests fled, his guards and sentries quickly rushing off in order to figure out the impossible. Tamlin didn't know how to feel, how to react. He just went into the manor, his rage causing him to go through the home blindly. He ripped doors off of the hinges, tore down paintings, and crushed statues that were in his path. Anything to release some of the tension. Anything to release some of the rage that he felt.

        He wound up in his office, the desk becoming splinters as he pounded it over and over again with his fists. He had known Rhysand would take her. He'd done all he could to find out how to break their deal. Yet, nothing had ever come up. He'd never imagined that Rhysand hated him so much that he would go out of the way to ruin his wedding. Despite the hatred that he felt for the High Lord of the Night Court, he had respected him enough to think that Rhysand was better than this. Better than this dramatic bullshit.

        But he wasn't. No one was ever better. No one ever would be.

        He didn't hear her footsteps. He didn't smell her frozen berry scent. No, he didn't notice a damn thing until she gently touched his arm. His hand twitched, not knowing if he should shove her away or pull her closer. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing would ever make sense again and he knew it.

        "Tamlin," Lyriel spoke softly, kneeling on the floor beside him. The splinters of the desk tore her dress, ceramic pieces from the lamp tanged in the silk. "Tamlin, look at me."

        She didn't look afraid of him. He picked up on that before anything else. Her eyes were wide, but with concern. She was willing to put herself in a vulnerable position in order to try and speak with him. Tamlin trembled slightly as he looked at her. He was afraid. 

        Afraid of himself. Afraid of her. Afraid of what Rhysand was doing to Feyre. What he would do just to fuck with Tamlin. It all left him feeling powerless, unable to change anything or protect anyone that he loved. It was like he was a child again. Watching as his father did things that he wasn't proud of. The things that still haunted him at night.

        "I'm right here," she spoke softly, as though she were trying to soothe a wounded animal. Perhaps that was all he was. "I'm not leaving. We'll get her back. I promise. Everything is going to be alright, Tamlin. You'll find a way to get her out of whatever deal she made. You'll get married and have multiple children."

        Despite the fact that she could have easily been sarcastic, Lyriel sounded sincere. She sounded as though she believed that he would get those things. That he deserved those things. No one had ever made him feel as though he deserved to be happy. No one had ever made him feel as though he were anything but a monster.

        Feyre did her best. She had done better as a human when he had saved her from a life where she would have died before age twenty. She loved him because he had protected her. She had needed a protector. Now, she needed something different. Tamlin just had trouble realizing it. He never would. 

        "I just need you to breathe, alright?" Lyriel's eyes were brighter than he thought they had any right to be. He didn't know how a frozen evergreen could look bright, wide, and ... Perfect. His stomach ached at the mere thought of it all. This was too much. All of it was too much.

        "Lyriel," he breathed out, his fists clenching in front of him. He looked away from her, his eyes shut tightly. "You should go."

        "No, I shouldn't," it was infuriating how she never did as he asked. How she followed her own desire. He'd never known a soldier who didn't listen to orders. "You might tear down the manor if I do."

        He knew that she was right. He knew that she was just trying to help. She was trying to be a better person than he deserved. Tamlin felt as though every single thing that Feyre had ever been through was his fault. Everything Rhysand, Lucien, and everyone in the Spring Court fell on his shoulders. He knew that it was nonsensical to think that way. But he did.

        He always did.

        "Please," his voice was so small. So much smaller than it had been since the day he had become the High Lord.

        Lyriel took his hand in hers. He tried not to note how small her hands were in his. Hers were just as calloused as his own, just as full of scars and of stories that she may never tell him. He shuddered slightly at the chill her skin brought but he did not pull away.

        "We're mates," she had to bring that up now? When the world felt as though it were coming to an end. "Even though you're choosing her, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

        He opened his eyes then, looking at her. Really looking at her. The periwinkle petals had fallen from her hair, one had been left behind. Her eyes were filled with tears, perhaps due to knowing that he wouldn't pick her over Feyre. Yet, she clung to his hand with as much strength as she could muster. She held his hand as though he was her one lifeline. Tamlin had always wanted to be someone's protector, someone's lifeline. 

        He didn't dare believe he could protect Lyriel.

        He brought his right hand up, his claws shrinking back into his skin, and gently moved it to her hair. He plucked the periwinkle petal from her hair and let it fall slowly to the floor. His eyes didn't follow it. Neither did hers. Instead, he allowed his gaze to travel from her eyes to the other areas of her face.

        With her time in the sun, freckles had begun to bloom across the bridge of her nose. He wanted to trace them with his forefinger but he did not. The bridge was crooked, having been broken a few times. He wanted to know those stories, wanted to share his own with her. His gaze fell to the small scar above her upper lip. It cut into the cupid's bow and made her lips look much more kissable.

        He didn't think about it. Not for the first time in his life, Tamlin took action without thinking. He leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips against hers.

        She tasted of those damned frozen berries. The sweetness of them was addicting and he cursed the Winter Court for it. Her lips were soft, perfect against his own.

        He kissed her again, hungrier. Desperate. It felt right. Like some switch in his brain had been flipped. His right hand tangled in the white-blonde hair, pulling her as close as he could. She kissed him back, just as hungrily. They were teeth and tongue and fire and ice.

        They were berries and roses and pine and peony. Everything they shouldn't be and everything they should.

        Lyriel pulled away first, a shuddering breath leaving her. She stood, her gown showing more skin now that it had been ripped by splinters of wood and shards of ceramic. She looked at him for a few seconds, he could taste the tension in the air, before she turned on her heel and left.

        Leaving Tamlin alone in his broken kingdom.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of war and ruin #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #tamlin #Tamiel #tamlin defense squad #tamlin x oc #tamlin rosehall #Lyriel #lyriel chaeren #tamlin x lyriel #lyriel is just here to give tamlin migraines #lyriel is a badass #tamlin just wants his fiddle

[shinymooncolor]

@siriuslyqueer gave us goalies, pining and angst. @wxlfstxrx some much needed fluff. So I thought we’d do a bromance hat trick with a little sweater weather chat. Love ya all 🏒❣️

@lumosinlove created a well of wonderful oc’s and they’re all my new mvp’s. 🥰

Sweater weather chats #3

Nado is fuckboy extraordinaire. Kuny is mad. Olli is so done. Logan does not have a curfew. Or does he? Dumo grounds Nado. Walker worships Noelle. Remus chokes on his tea. Kasey ruins zucchinis for Dumo. Does cars have names? There’s a ritual burning. Everyone is up early on a Sunday.

——

Sunday 3.44 am

7 missed calls from Nado.

Nado:

kuny please pick up

I’m sorry. Fuck I messed up okay.

I’m so sorry okay. Fuck just call me back.

Wtf you took my Porsche? Over the line man.

Fuck you told Sergei. His wife just cAlled and yelled. She’s terrifying. I’m sorry

Kuny please come home.

Sorry.

Please

Kuny

Kuny

Evgeni. Please I’m sorry okay

You’re my best fucking friend and you’re supposed to forgive me. I’m an idiot. Just come home. I’m not gonna stop texting. I will fucking not let you walk out on me man.

I said I was sorry. Please man. Sorry.

Please.

I’ll join some freakin cult and become a monk if it gets you to talk to me.

—-

Sunday 7.23 am

Nadotheman: guys has anyone heard from kuny yesterday or today? Please I need to speak to him

Sergei_81: give him some time. you did something bad and he’s mad. He will come home when he is ready

Nadotheman: he’s got my Porsche. Is he with you? Can I come over

Sergei_81: he’s not here. We got family visit. No time for your stupid fights

Prongstar: what did you do Nado? Ate his mom’s homemade cake again? Or did you forget to water his aloe Vera plant?

Ollibear: he’s here. Don’t call him.

Siriusly: what happened?

CarbO’Hara: Broke the fuckign code @nadotheman not cool

Prongstar: WHAT DID HE DO? @russiangod also how does finno know?

Ollibear: please stop texting him. I’m worried he might snap the remote or my PlayStation

LoganTremblayzzz: @nadotheman hope you got insurance. 911 turbo not looking good. Hahahaha

Prongstar: what. Happened?

Ollibear: he turned up here at 4 am, scaring the shit out of mrs. Williams next door. Woke up when she screamed. Apparently 6.4” Russian guy in a black hoodie is not what you expect to bang on your door at that hour. He’s been fuming in Russian ever since. And he ate all our Doritos. Stole nado’s Porsche. We gathered he’s mad at Nado but not sure why. Got him to at least talk to Sergei

Sergei_81: he’s got good reason to be mad. Nado can tell you what he did.

Timmyforrealz: what does this mean: он спал с моим двоюродным братом @sunnysideup @sergei_81

Sunnysideup: what?? Oh nado. This is bad.

Prongstar: I used google translate. @nadotheman you slept with his sister?!

Siriusly: !!!

Talkiewalkie: over the line bro. Damn.

Sunnysideup: wait he doesn’t have a sister? Does he?

Sergei_81: yes he means cousin.

DamnFoxy: wow. This is lowkey funny. Sorry but I’m laughing

Prongstar: spit my tea out

RussianGod left the conversation

Nadotheman: fuck look what you idiots did.

Siriusly: you did his cousin.

DamnFoxy: 😂😂😂

Talkiewalkie: uh not cool bro. Like. Fuck.

Timmyforrealz: you talkin about fucking sisters? Aren’t you putting the moves on Logan’s sister?

LoganTremblayzzz: @timmyforrealz 🤦🏽🙅🏼🙍🏾👎🏻🖕🏻

Talkiewalkie: I’m dating noelle. Not putting moves on her. I’m worshipping the very ground she walks on. She’s a goddess and I’m but a mortal man

Kaneyoudigit: can you just keep it in your pants for once, Nado…. jeez

Eliascookie: HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHHH. You’re never meeting my sister. Ever. Damn.

Newt-leo: shut up this isn’t about noelle. Nado wtf? Didn’t wanna believe Finn and lo. He’s texted finn but in Russian. Think it was meant for sergei. Did you really sleep with his cousin?

Krisvolley: wow. Anyone checking up on Kuny? Shit. Can’t leave the two of you alone.

LeWilliam: yeah, is Kuny alright @ollibear? Also, @nadotheman - you freaked when he kissed that waitress. Karma is a fuckin bitch 😏

Nadotheman: fuck off cubs.

EvanderBell: oi. No need to be mad at us. You messed up. You deserve this. Also if he totals Dolores it’s totally on you!

Nado the man: shut up. Everyone. I know I screwed up okay? Fucking hell. They look nothing alike and she didn’t tell me.

Sunnysideup: didn’t you meet her through kuny?

Nado the man: well yea. went out for a drink. Kuny was being boring and went home. Talked to her and we got along and well.

Bradygunz: did you at least pay for her drink? Also uncool bro

Nado the man: I paid. Fuck off.

Dumodad: I’m away for 1 day. 1 day boys. @nadotheman do I have to ground you? Adele is serving 2 weeks for lying about her homework and having a boy in her rooM after curfew.

Prongstar: dropped the ball with Logan then @dumodad, eh?

Sergei_81: I support grounding Nado.

LoganTremblayzzz: @prongstar like lily didn’t ground you when you came home sans shirt and with kasey’s jeans on backwards Also I never had girls in my room after curfew. Also don’t have curfew.

Dumodad: yes you did. Curfew at least.

Blizzard: holy fuck. Just woke from a nap. Wtf? Also @prongstar, @logantremblayzzz never had GIRLS in his room. Just had Leo and finn. Playing hide the zucchini.

Siriusly: @blizzard. Loops just choked on his tea.

Dumodad: I can never eat a zucchini again. Merde

BliZzard: just keeping it real boys. Also don’t be hard on @nadotheman he’s a man whore. One day he’ll grow up

Nadotheman: I’m older kasey and shut up

Ollibear: Nado you really have to apologize.

Timmyforrealz: @nadotheman this is serious. Olli just ate a box of moomin cookies. Nado please fix your relationship. Olli can’t handle his parents fighting. He’s legit green looking. He’s eating junk food. I’m scared.

Nadotheman: Olli tell them you were there. She came on to me. She never mentioned Kuny

Ollibear: I’m not getting involved. Also you owe me $432 for the champagne. And he introduced you before he left.

Prongstar: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Dumodad: @nadotheman you’re grounded. No clubbing or I will call your mom.

———

Sunday 7.56 am

Nado: Olli please is he with you guys? I need to speak to him.

Olli: I’m sorry he doesn’t wanna see you. Please give him some time.

Nado: 💔

—

Sunday 8.02 am

Nado: I’m not gonna leave. I’m parked outside and you’ve got to call the cops to get me to leave. You’re my best friend dammit and I’m sorry. Fuck please just talk to me!

Kuny: don’t want talk. Is hard. I’m smart in Russian. English stupid.

Nado: wait then get Olli or Timmy to type it. Just tell me how I can make it up to you.

Kuny: hi Nado. Olli here, I’m typing for him. Timmy is trying to salvage our remote.

I’m trying to type and understand ok? Kuny knows his cousin is (I’m paraphrasing here - I refuse to call a woman that) sociable and he’s mostly upset cause he’s worried about you. Okay he didn’t mean that - he means that he’s upset you slept with her but he’s also worried cause he says you fall in love too quickly. (You two are idiots - he’s trying to protect your feelings) he does not want me to type that. But he broke our remote. But he’s also mad you slept with her after he said not to. And he claims he did tell you. How much did you two drink? When I picked up the tab you’d only had a few bottles of champagne and you gave most of that to the hen party in the next booth. Also he’s mad you had sex - god, Nado - the living room, really? At least go into your bedroom. Apparently you had a deal you wouldn’t do that. Wow you need some self control buddy. Okay. Now he’s saying that he’s okay to talk to you. So you can come in. You better have showered!!!!

—-

Sunday, 8.27 am.

KrisVolley: @ollibear, what’s going on?

Ollibear: they’re fucking idiots. Stupid overgrown manbabies.

Timmyforrealz: well. Olli cursing is hilarious. It’s like Casper the friendly ghost saying fuck... 😂 Quite anti-climactic. Was anticipating a fist fight or at least a black eye. They just talked and @nadotheman cried. Ha. Long clingy chat short; Kuny was afraid his cousin was just using Nado - like he’d ever object? Nado admitted he was drunk and upset with Kuny over something else (they’re like my teenage twinsisters I swear) also Kuny was mad Nado fucked his cousin on the couch. So not classy @nadotheman... Jesus this soap opera is like the episode of friends where chandler is in a box.

Sergei_81: they ok?

Nadotheman added RussianGod to the chat

RussianGod: we good. But he has to do embarrassing thing now. I chose. Will think long before decide. Also he buy new couch

Prongstar: Kuny my dear friend - I will happily help think up evil revenge. Also burn the couch

Nadotheman: I didn’t fucking cry. He stinks. My eyes watered from the stench.

Blizzard: aw Nado its okay. We know you’re in an established bro-tionship.

Talkie-walkie: am I the only one worried about the Porsche? She does not deserve to suffer just because Nado is a slut.

RussianGod: dolores is fine. Love car too much. Only wanted to scare Jackie.

Nadotheman: stop calling me that kun(t)y. 😘

Ollibear: ffs you two just made up, just kiss and get the fuck out. I’m done being your therapist. Good night.

Timmyforrealz: they broke olli. He even kicked a chair and hurt his toe. Haha he’s cursing in Finnish. He also has hidden nado’s car keys. Dolores is ours now.

——

They did a ritual burning of the couch. Dumo did call Nado’s mother. She grounded him and gave Kuny a bunch of embarrassing photos of teenage Nado. We’re talking frosted tips and platform shoes.

#lumosinlove #sweaterweatherchats #sweaterweather #sweaterweatherchatsnr3 #hattrick #bromance

[detroitbydark]

Title: Play With Fire- Part 2

Characters: Migs Mayfeld/”Pockets” (OC)

Rating: T

Summary: First Impressions

Warning: Blood? but not gore

A/N: So apparently Pockets is now and OC and I have more ideas then I care to admit for this pairing. Thank you to @crimson-dxwn​ for being my beta extraordinaire and listening to my rants and raves. Anything ya'll wanna know about these two crazy kids? let me know and I might explore it. Also, 3 ABY is approximately one year before the battle of Endor and the second Death Star and their reunion ( the first part in this) takes place about 9 ABY sometime after the second season of The Mandalorian.

 3 ABY

Sometimes you made the shot of a lifetime. Sometimes you didn’t.

Sometimes you made that once in millennia shot as Rebel artillery was destroying your nest and you went tumbling ass over blaster down a ravine with half a ton of loose debris and rocks.

You couldn’t win them all.

Migs got this. He understood it like he understood his unfortunate short stature or the hairline that had receded for too early in life. Those were the breaks.

You either lived with it or died with it and he was fully set on living until he was old and shriveled.

Some days it just sucked.

Today was one of those days.

“We got a live one coming through. Clear a table, will ya?”

The voice of his squad mate, Crikes, was too loud on his right as his weight pressed heavily into Smitty on his left. The rough outer rim accent bounced around in his bucket like a stray blaster bolt.

Kriff his head hurt.

Everything hurt actually, from his head to the tips of his toes. The slide hadn’t been that bad. Seven meters? Maybe ten? It was the sharp obsidian stone that had come down with him that had done him in. The razor sharp black stone had bludgeoned and gouged his armor, weaseling its way into the cracks and under the plastoid plating. It cut at his skin with each move he made. If the stims hadn’t helped numb him up he’d probably have passed out when the assault droid had helped yank him from the rubble.  His gauntlets were both cracked and he could feel a cool breeze coming through the cracks in his back plate. He’d liked his armor. Command wasn’t gonna take to kindly with having to replace it.

It was nice to pretend his biggest concern was getting a new set of plastoid requisitioned. 

“Hey medic!” Crikes’ voice cuts through his thoughts, “I said we need a hand over here!”

“Maker… do you have to yell so fragging loud? I mean-“

“What are you going on about?” Looking back he’s never sure what it was that he noticed first, but he likes to think it was her voice. Like an holomodel fantasy out of a good spice trip, she shuts that Hutt humping Crikes up, marching over with her hands on her hips and scowl on her face.

“We got an Imperial war hero here.” Crikes sounds chastened, but Migs doesn’t bother to look over to see if his face matches what he’s hearing because he’s in the presence of a fragging angel.

“Yeah? Look around. Got a lot of heroes here.” Sarcasm flows from her pretty pouty lips like water from a fountain. She sweeps her arm toward the other beds and the piles of bloodied plastoid littering the small field hospital. “This one ain’t any better or worse.”

Migs frowns under cover of his helmet. For a while he’s been wondering if he might have some bleeding going on somewhere. He feels a bit woozy when he turns his head too quickly to follow the angel as she grabs a datapad off a nearby cart. He was better then a majority of the scum around him. He was a sharpshooter, best of the best, and the bastard who single-handedly brought down the pair of x-Wings decimating their ground troops.

He tries to tell her as such but the words don’t come out of his mouth in any coherent thought. Angel freezes, looking up from the datapad she barks to his squad mate and Migs suddenly feels his bucket being pulled from his head.

“Designation number trooper.”

It’s an order not a question. He didn’t like orders, even from his own superiors but she’s damn pretty and his head hurts…

“Trooper? A number?” Angel looks up from the datapad. There’s concern on her face. She’s scanning his injuries. The ones she can see. Were they that bad? Migs reaches up and feels something warm and sticky against his temple.

“FO-593” Smitty offers for him.

“593… got it…” she takes a step closer, setting the datapad down and pulling gloves from her pocket. She’s got the prettiest hazel eyes, long lashes. Migs wonders if she’s seeing anyone. It’s probably one of those civvie doctors that signed on…

“593-“

“Mayfeld. It’s Migs Mayfeld.” He clarifies, ‘cause a pretty girl like her should be saying his name.

“Alright, Mayfeld, what happened?”

“He saved our asses is what he did!”

Crikes again. Maker, if the bastard kept stealing his glory he was going to deck him. Once the room stopped spinning.

“You know what?” The Angel looks about as amused with Crikes as

Migs felt. “I think it’s high time you two go get some rations in you and leave Mayfeld and I to our own devices.”

Smitty elbows Crikes, the plastoid of armor clattering as he tips his head toward the entrance.

“I’m good boys,” Migs offers the other two field operatives, “Let me get some alone time with the pretty girl.”

He ignores the raised brow directed his way and the crossed arms that follow. Nausea rolls through him as his buddies wander back the way they came.

“Frag… I think I’m gonna be sick.”

She does well. Manages to miss the first splash of vomit. The second retch hits her shoe.

“Son of a bitch… Maker fragging-“ 

The angel has a mouth on her. He could get used to that. Migs uses the sleeve of his under armor, exposed by the shattered plastoid to wipe his mouth.

“Sorry about that, Sweetness.” 

Her eyes narrow as she reaches behind him. “My name is not Sweetness. I am FM-111 to you trooper. Specialist Coronette if you're lucky.”

The words slip out, some verbal diarrhea to go along with what he was starting to think was a concussion. “I am lucky and you’re beautiful.”

“That’s it-“

“Pockets? Have we got an issue?”

Wait- was that a-

“No Coric, I’m good.”

The older man looks at Migs and Migs looks right back. No shit. A clone. You didn’t see that everyday. Guy’s got a head of close cropped salt and pepper hair, looks real dignified. He’s also… glaring? Ok yeah, that wasn’t good.

“If he’s giving you trouble I can-“

Angel’s…. Specialist Coronette’s face softens as she looks at the clone. Migs feels a little jealousy percolate deep down - accompanied by the occasional flip of his stomach. She pats the other man’s cheek fondly and he gives her a soft look.

Some guys had all the luck.

Migs closes his eyes as the world takes a big spin. He doesn’t mean to groan but the axis has tilted and the poles have just flipped and… Fek… he really is starting to not feel good.

“Hey… Mayfeld?” The voice is soft and Migs focuses on the sweet, silvery words. Slowly he opens his eyes and notes that Coronette, is at his side looking more concerned then she has the entire time he’s been in the damn med bay. Over her shoulder the clone medic gives his own appraising look.

“You got this Pockets?”

Migs sees irritation flash in sharp green eyes, not just green but, like, Endor. So bright and alive there wasn’t any way he could think to describe them other than the greenest Kriffing place he’d ever seen in his life.

“I’ve got it, Sir.” Her tone is sharp but the clone, her superior, doesn’t seem to take offense to it. She must not just be blowing smoke. At this point he doesn’t give a wamp rat’s ass. He really just wants to call it a day, catch a cycle worth of sleep and lay in bed til the gut-rending nausea goes the fek away.

“Uh-uh,” she tuts, irritation melted away, “can’t fall asleep on me just yet. You haven’t even shown me a good time yet.” She teases and Migs wills his eyes wide open.

“You’re flirting.”

“Maybe… or maybe I’m trying to keep you awake because you’ve got a concussion. You’ll never know.”

Specialist Coronette pokes and prods, shuffling him toward the edge of the gurney. “Wanna go somewhere more private?”

“Trying to get me all alone, beautiful?”

She huffs. It sounds half amused. He can work with that.

“I’m trying,” she grunts, looping his arm around her shoulder and manhandling him into standing, “to get you in a private room so I can assess your wounds without the whole battalion seeing you stripped down.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” His head spins at the sudden change in momentum. “I’m not that kind of man. You gotta wine me and dine me before-“

She twists under his arm and sharp pain shoots through his side cutting off his words more effectively then any shushing ever could. 

“Easy Mayfeld.” He hears a familiar voice but can’t place which slimy barve he knew it came from. “You can’t handle that one.”

A pair of voices, masculine and feminine, grunt in agreement as he and his medic slowly hobble past and to a clean, empty ‘room’.

It’s a room about as much as a room as a troop transport is a luxury yacht. Four ceiling to floor curtained walls block it off from the other rooms and the larger, open floor of the hospital. He manages to collapse onto the exam table as the world takes another vicious whip around. This time he manages to spew in the bucket shoved under his nose.

He apologizes after he finishes. “Thanks. You know, you keep showing me basic human decency like this and you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Coronette is pulling clean gloves on and hunting in a shallow drawer. She arches a pretty brow in his direction as she finds a pair of shears. “I have to clean up whatever mess you make. Don’t confuse decency with laziness on my part.”

“Whatever you say, Pockets.”

Her shoulders tense for a moment and then she takes a deep breath and lets the bait he’s laying out go to waste.

“I’m getting this armor off you. ‘Fraid it ain’t doing you any good anymore.”

Migs glances down at the cracked plastoid. His pauldron is long gone and both pairs of vambrace and gauntlets are thrashed. There’s so much under armor and skin showing, Migs isn’t really sure how they're still even on him. Pockets manages to get them off without much to it and little input from the guy wearing them. She begins on his cuirass and Migs thinks of half a dozen smart ass remarks about getting his clothes off, but there’s something going on under the armor and each time she begins working at the cracked and twisted chest piece it steals the air from his lungs.

“Karking hells,” he curses lowly. 

“I’ve almost got it…” 

Migs takes a deep breath and holds as still as he can. It kriffing hurts, burns hotter than two suns over Tatooine. Just when he’s sure he can’t handle a second more of it, the plastoid falls away in two pieces. It’s like a pressure he hadn’t realized was on his chest has finally been removed and he can breathe-

“Son of a mudscuffer-“

Migs doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong. He can feel it. Warmth spreading and staining the under armor across the left side of his chest. 

“Karking thing was putting pressure on-“ she trails off again as she retrieves the shears from her pocket. She’s efficient and wastes no time slicing up the front of his under armor. The black fabric falls away from one side and clings to blood staining his other. Coronette doesn’t stop moving, flowing from one spot to the next. She doesn’t stop talking either.

“Fek. Fek. That’s not gonna fekking come out in the wash-“ 

He could laugh but she’s pulling the clinging fabric away from his chest and pressing bacta soaked gauze into the laceration. If that didn’t burn like the wrong end of a burner’s incinerator he didn’t know what did. 

“Damn it! Is your kriffing processor pickled?! Warn a guy!” He's all bark and no bite at the mercy of the medic who continues to press hard on the wound.

“Shut it 593.” It’s grunted out as she continues to press with one hand and reach across him with the other for Palps only knew what. Sharp words fizzle on his tongue as he catches a glimpse of pale flesh down the top of her scrubs. Fek. He really loved a pretty pair of tits and judging by the rounded tops he can see and the slight jiggle as they move, Coronette’s were perfect. It’s better then any painkiller he could imagine… until she’s leaning back and catches the cast of his eyes.

“So are so kriffing lucky. You slimy little nerfherder- if I had two free hands.”

He should feel bad about being caught but Migs has had a day and he really can’t find it in him.

“Not my fault, maker gave you a gorgeous rack and Imperial uniforms don’t hide it.”

He winces as she yanks the bacta soaked gauze away, blood beginning to well up again immediately. She doesn’t warn him before pressing the gun into the open wound and squeezing the trigger. Bacta foam fills in the area as he hisses, sealing the laceration. She doesn’t stop to make sure he’s ok before she’s spinning and grabbing more supplies. A bacta patch gets slapped over the quick dry foam.

“Weasly stormtrooper scum…” she continues under her breath.

“Aww come on now, I’m sorry.” He tries to offer a weak smile but her back is turned as she furiously enters data onto a pad. “I really am. When’s the end of your shift. I’ll buy you a drink?”

The anger that flashes in those forest eyes when she whips back is the sexiest thing he’s seen in a standard cycle. If the stims weren’t beginning to wear off and his body beginning to hurt to Malachor and back, he’d be getting stiff in what was left of his armor.

“You think I’d have a drink with you?”

“Come on sweets, what really matters is if you think you’d have a drink with me.”

Her eyebrows skim her hairline. “Are you kidding me? Give up already. Karking little-”

“Not the size of the aak in the fight but the fight in the aak, Sweetheart.”

“Not in your life, Buckethead.”

Her ass looks almost as good in her scrubs as her tits but she doesn’t give him a chance to say so before she storms out.

#migs mayfeld #migs mayfeld/oc #the mandalorian

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You

characters: Scarlett Rose(oc), Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Carina Black(oc), Leo Black(oc), Scarlett’s parents

word count: 2239

Love Is You -> Chapter 29- FINAL

    It has been 7 months since Scarlett and Severus moved into Scarlett’s retirement house in Naxos. Severus has quit his job because he wanted to spend all of his time with Scarlett after he found out about her heart illness. Scarlett hasn’t wanted him to do that sacrifice for her but Severus was persistent. When they moved Naxos in June, first couple of weeks passed with decorating the house; their choice of decoration style was a mix of coastal and Greek. After the decoration was done, Scarlett needed to accomplish her other retirement dream which was buying ducklings! Severus reconciled Scarlett that buying only 2 ducklings is enough. She has wanted more but they ended up buying a yellow one and a Rouen one. Scarlett named the Rouen one “Cookie” since it has dark spots and looked like a chocolate chip cookie, yellow one was Severus’s to name and he named it “Milky” just to go with cookie and milk theme. Luckily, Scarlett’s cat Athena got along with the ducklings and they all became the cutest trio ever.

    Scarlett and Severus had times of their lives during the whole summer in Naxos. They went to swimming, discovered every corner of the island, had long walks and many more; but their favourite activity to do together was sailing with their small boat and reading books middle of the sea. They believed that either island’s weather or those activities helped to ease Scarlett’s illness a bit. She wasn’t having heart aches or pains frequently and she has passed out only couple of times during the summer. She got even better when Carina and Leo came to visit her time to time.

    Scarlett wanted to spend rest of the year in Naxos too, they went to London for 2 weeks in September for Scarlett’s yearly check-up and to visit her parents and Carina. When they came back to the island, it was calmer than before since the summer season has ended and all the tourists were back at their countries. They liked it better that way and enjoyed the silence of the island. Everything was going good and well until November arrived. Like how trees lose their leaves in fall, Scarlett started to lose her health. Now she was waking up nauseous every morning and the moment she got off the bed dizziness was adding to it as a plus, some days she wasn’t able to eat anything whole day because of that. In addition to this her blackouts became more frequently, and she would faint regularly. Somedays Scarlett would be in such a bad mood and cry her eyes out until she fell asleep. These days were the worst ones for Severus, he would try his best to calm her down and ease her pain but after Scarlett fell asleep, Severus would go by the sea and cry there all by himself.

    Last week of November, Scarlett insisted to invite her children, her parents and Sirius to Naxos; saying that she wants to see them one last time. Those words stabbed Severus in the heart, and they had a small argument over it because Severus wanted her to believe that nothing will happen to her. But in the end Severus sent patronus messages to all of them, explaining the situation a bit. Scarlett haven’t said anything about her illness to anyone still. When they got Severus’s message, all was panicked and couldn’t understand what happened to her so suddenly. Her parents and Sirius apparated there in the same day with the message, Carina and Leo came in the night of the same day. Severus explained them her illness beforehand which did lead to an argument between them, they were angry that Severus hasn’t said anything to them until this day even in secret from Scarlett. But in the end, they all realized that arguing won’t help anything and it was time to see Scarlett. She wasn’t able to get out of the bed, so all went to see her in the bedroom. She was sleeping in the dark blue sheets which made her to look even paler than usual, her hair colour was the only lively thing on her at the moment. Ricardus went over to his only daughter and woke her up by kissing her cheek softly.

“Wake up princess...”

“Dad...” Scarlett looked at him sleepy and tried to sit up. “You came.”

When she realized all the people she wanted to see was in the room, her sad eyes sparkled with happiness. “You all came!”

“Of course we did mummy!” Carina jumped on the bed to snuggle her.

“Be careful Carrie.”

Leo warned her, he was extremely tense since he found out about his mother’s condition. Leo was the mummy’s boy since birth and he adored Scarlett in every way. Possibility of losing her was killing him.

“It’s fine Leo, come join us baby.” Scarlett held a shaky hand out for Leo who happily accepted it and snuggled into his mother too.

    The air of the room was unexplainable, everybody’s eyes had a sad expression when their lips were forced into a smile. They were trying to have a cheerful day just to make Scarlett happy but deep down all of them was crying internally. Especially Sirius, he was very silent. He was blaming himself for what happened to his Scarlett, he has put so much stress and pressure on her because of the fuckery they have been through. He had one job; protect his family and keep it together but he has failed terribly. Sirius shook these thoughts off and turned his attention back to Scarlett. They all took some photos together and talked for hours. Scarlett hasn’t been that happy for a long time, she even ate some food with them. Her happiness calmed everybody down for a bit.

    The twins and Sirius have taken couple of days off from work so everybody would stay at the island. Severus was helping them to make the beds in the living room and the guest room, their house wasn’t that big so Ric and Aurelia would stay in the guest room while Sirius and the twins were sharing the living room. While they were on this, Scarlett wanted to talk with Sirius privately. Sirius went back to the bedroom where Scarlett was and sat next to her; silver eyes met with the forest green ones for the first time in a while.

“Siri...”

“Yes kitten.” He smiled softly at her.

“I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“When... when i am gone, please take care of Carina and Leo also yourself. I want to make sure that you all will be just as fine even i am not with you here no more...”

“No no no, don’t say such things. I don’t wanna hear those Scarlett.” Sirius held her hand tightly and kissed her knuckles.

“We will see our kids’ weddings and have grandchildren; we will be the coolest grandparents! Where do you think you are going without doing any of these!?” Sirius joked but his eyes were filled with tears, he was having hard time while trying not to cry.

Scarlett’s lips trembled while the tears were running down on her cheeks. Her heart broke thinking that she won’t be able to live any of these events Sirius just said.

“Don’t buy little motorbikes to our grandchildren for their first birthday.” Scarlett joked trying to change the mood.

“Ah damn, i was just thinking that!”

Sirius laughed but shortly his laughters turned into sobs. He snuggled into Scarlett who was halfway laying, she wrapped one arm around him while playing with his hair with the other hand. This was the way how Sirius copes with sadness, he would rest his head on either Scarlett’s chest or lap and let her to play with his hair until he was calm again. But this time Scarlett cried with him too, they poured out all the sadness they held inside.

“My lawyer will give keys to each of you when i d... you know; i prepared 4 trunks with the things i want to give you, the twins and Severus. They are in the basement of my house. When the time comes, take them okay...?”

Sirius didn’t answer her question but instead he held onto her even more. Scarlett sighed but knew he would do what she asked him to do. She looked down at Sirius who was laying next to her, head rested on her chest.

“I want you to know that, i was so happy with you and i didn’t have any regrets. I think our friendship and marriage were more than just decent, they were perfectly splendid. I loved you very much Sirius Orion Black, i still do.”

Sirius finally looked up at her face, his cheeks were wet from the tears he shed; he sat up slowly.

“Scarlett Serafina Rose, i love you more. You are the best thing ever happened to me. I am so so so sorry all the times i made you sad, none of them were intentional... You are my one and only.”

Without a thought, Sirius closed the gap between their faces and pressed his lips into hers. Familiar feeling of 26 years filled them but this kiss was different; it was a farewell kiss and both of them knew it. Their tears mixed into the kiss and Sirius couldn’t take it anymore; he run out of the room crying. Severus came to their bedroom soon after he saw Sirius run outside.

“How are you Scar?” He asked while changing into his pyjamas.

“Good, i guess...?” She had a weird feeling whole day since her loved ones came but she couldn’t understand what; it was like she was cured in a day.

Severus turned off the lights before came to bed, but Scarlett turned on their bedside lights immediately. Severus raised his eyebrows, Scarlett hated to sleep in a lighted room even it was just a tinniest light. She noticed his confusion and explained.

“I wanna see you...”

“Why is that love? Did you miss me?” Severus hugged her and kissed her tear-stained cheek.

“I will miss you...”

Severus was about to ask her what she means but before he could, Scarlett kissed him passionately. This took Severus by surprise; since Scarlett’s illness got worse, the only intimate moments they shared were soft and slow kisses. She slowly pulled away and whispered into his ear.

“You are my first, my last and my everything. I will keep your love evermore, Severus. I love you.”

Severus was used to Scarlett’s regular farewell talks by now and he hated them because they just hurt him even more but that felt different. When Scarlett looked into his night-like eyes, he got lost in hers; Severus always loved how big and meaningful her eyes were.

“Tell me you love me...” Scarlett’s whisper brought him back to reality.

“I love you more than anything in the whole wide world Scarlett, you know that. You are my luck.”

Severus kissed her one last time. Scarlett rested onto his chest then he started to sing their song “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” to put her to sleep while playing with her hair. Her eyes closed slowly and she dived into a peaceful sleep.

    The next day a shriek woke everyone up; it was raining cats and dogs with loud thunders. The weather simply reflected everyone’s feelings about today. They were planning to stay couple of days more but they changed the plan and took Scarlett to London with them. London days weren’t any different, they were gloomy and smothery. Severus wanted to turn back to Naxos for Scarlett’s birthday, they have decided on celebrating it there this year and he wanted to make it happen.

    Severus was listening to a slow music from the record player and drinking some wine when his eyes caught the window, it was snowing for the first time this year in the island. Severus smiled happily thinking that Scarlett’s usual birthday wish was happening. Since it was midnight and officially her birthday, he ran up to their bedroom to wake her up and let her know about the snow. When he walked into the room, Scarlett was already awake in their bed. She was looking like a snow angel in her white satin sleeping gown, Severus grinned at her while moving the curtains aside.

“Surprise! Just how you wished for your birthday, love.”

“I haven’t wished for snow this year, i have only wished to be able to celebrate it...”

“We can start celebrations right now if you want, it passed midnight. Happy 56 my love!”

Scarlett didn’t respond to him; she was staring at him rather sorrowfully. He leaned against the wall behind him to support himself.

“I am not here, all of this happening in your head Severus...”

Severus shook his head while whispering “no” constantly.

“I died that night in your arms... It was your scream to wake everyone up in the following morning... You all took me to London for my funeral...”

“STOP! Please stop...”

Severus cried out while sliding down the wall to the floor. He buried his face into his palms and cried his heart out. When he calmed down, he kissed Scarlett’s promise ring which he was wearing on his pinkie now.

“I love you Scarlett... We will meet again…”

taglist: @fific7

#severus snape #pro snape #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x oc #severus snape x oc #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape fluff #severus snape angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius black fanfiction #loveisyou #mrs.severussnape #mrsseverussnapefanfic

[j-mysticalien]

🔫 the oc content, hand it over /lh

you don’t have to if u don’t want to lol I just saw you said something about ocs and 👀 I am interested

FIRST OF ALL 🥺🥺🥺

SECOND OF ALL OKAY OKAY HERE TAKE IT 

(I ended up dumping a lot ... I saw the opportunity and ran with it I didn’t mean to oops)

These guys have been in my head for y e a r s and even though I'll abandon them for months at a time, there are plot points I've forgotten, it’s very very unfinished, and clearly influenced by my freshman year interests, they're some of my favorites to imagine and write like every time I do a picrew chain or something I make them too for myself okay okay-

So. Exposition. For ages the demons and dark things have slipped between the veil and into the world. As evil rises, so do those who stand against it. In some parts of the world The Order was established not to eradicate or wage war against the demons, just to keep everything in their proper dimensions and destroy those who refuse. Members of the Order work in groups with assigned roles, often passed down generations. 1: trained in the physical aspects of fighting creatures, they have the unique and mysterious ability to survive in the other dimension-at least better than the average mortal. 2, “Alchemist”: Usually a witch, human descendant of a magical being, or a particularly skilled mortal even. they provide the magical aid since the other cannot perform magic themselves. (Though Witches tend to form their own communities or work with the demon realm which historically has caused tensions) While fewer and well hidden, this secret society guards the mortal realm to this day... 

There’s a small, quiet town in the northeast. Nothing much happens- the power may go out or the weather may turn within seconds and figures may appear and shift into the shadows but it all turns out fine eventually. Nothing to worry about. But those who know a  little too much know where to go when things need to be taken care off. Bloom’s Florist and Garden Shop, a sweet little store in the middle of town staffed by the owner’s two teenaged kids. They’ve got a lovely selection of flowers and herbs. If you hear noises from their basement, best to ignore it. If you see the kids sprinting down the street, best to stay out of their way. If they tell you to avoid the woods one night, you listen...

OCS MY BELOVED HERE THEY ARE

 Dante Achilles Sindweller. He is type 1.  He’s tall, thin but muscular, almost dangerously pale. His hair is blue, eyes blue though they sometimes look red. Riddles with piercings and pale scars. Cocky bastard but well deserved. Friendly and deadly all at once. He’s good at what he does and is always up for a challenge. Low key high key losing his sense of humanity. You see actually being in the demon dimension is draining because of the pure chaos of it but returning to reality is rough too. Because of the hunter’s ability (I’m pretty sure they have this ability bc the og demon hunters secretly fucked a bunch of demons so Hunters have demon blood and cannot “die” in the hell dimension but idfk at this point) they can adapt to the word with a combination of demonic attributes and idealized forms that disappear when he gets back. So um the mental toll is very much a thing that he hides very well...at least at first. He doesn’t actually have to travel too often thought, just during emergencies and later he genuinely visits some chill demon friends there.

Cordelia Emerys Bloom, “Cordie”. 5′2″, dark brown skin, black hair she keeps in two short braids, round rimmed glasses. She’s the alchemist. a few of her far off ancestors were fae. Her own magical battery is low so she’s become skilled in working with. potions and magical plants. She’s the most serious member. of the trio. She knows the job, she has a rhythm, she doesn’t like change. This group had three braincells and 90% of the time she has all of them. She likes her plants, her books, and Dante. She’s a little high strung and stubborn but she’s clever, intelligent, and really warm person once you get past her shields. She grew up way too fast and with all her adult figures gone, Dante slowly slipping (though she denies it to the point where Alice bright it up and they didn’t talk for a week), and this irritation turned fear that Alice’s presence is temporary leaves her with some issues but it’s okay im determined to let her be happy, she just has to let herself accept happiness.

Alice Barnet. A witch. Thick, bright red  hair, hazel/ blue eyes. Absolutely stunning. and a fashion icon. She moved to attend to uppity private school right outside of town. She stumbled upon the shop and immediately sensed the great power hidden in there. So she just walked in- because of the dimensional portal not because the girl at the register she saw through the window was so pretty what are you talking about it was witch instinct only- and announced herself and offered her services. She’s a flirt, though a sincere one. She projects a confident, fun vibes even if she doesn't actually feel it. Fake it until you make it I guess. Coffee addict will memorize your birth chart, Starbucks order, and all the little behavioral things. Most of my early drabbles with her involve her sitting on Cordie’s desk sipping her iced coffee while Cordie is like “how tf did you get in here” “good question. Better one: they didn’t have the black tea you like is green okay?” She actually is part of an informal coven but that’s a whole side story with its own cast of characters I haven’t touched in ages

Dynamics dynamics so Cordie and Dante are siblings in all but blood, they’ve been together for almost their entire lives. (Cordie’s parents are almost always away-either on Order business or just vibing idk they’re cool though. Dante’s parents are dead but only Dante himself seems to know that-Something about demon blood and dimension hopping doesn’t let their kind live long) They’re really close. If they met at this point in life they probably would never have been friends and Cordie probably would despise him but as they are they love each other and *know* each other. Technically Dante is older but Cordie is the eldest sister of the relationship.

The two of them have opposite reactions when Alice enters their life. (This entrance is one of the few *full* scenes I actually wrote down) Dante is allured-not by her but by the potential adventure she represents. She states her case and he’s like oh this’ll be interesting. They become best friends almost instantly. Their sass, confidence, and more adventurous sides click harmoniously- much of the time to Cordie’s dismay. To Cordelia, Alice is something unknown, something potentially dangerous. She makes her assumptions (prissy, incompetent, entitled, inexperienced) and tolerated her. Alice has had a crush on her since day 1. She was determined to prove herself to the group and really she’d just like to get her trust and friendship at some point, gushy feelings be damned. They fall in love slowly, they learn to trust and be weak and learn to know each other and be themselves Alice is genuinely interested in all the stuff Cordie knows about the magical world and Cordie gets to try to be a person outside of that world. The recent stuff I’ve actually written down involves a lot of sleepy conversations and whispered confessions and soft touched and hhh

Some of the non-human characters

“Lady”: the ghost that haunts the basement/ Order base. She can’t really speak and isn't always visible, never fully. They don’t know who she was or why she’s there. She helps out when she can though. Might help Dante in the very end. 

All of the actual demons are off ideas. Like each deadly sin has it’s own demon (they didn’t realize some humans had grouped them together for some time but they think it’s funny, sometimes they hang out just because of that) The gang doesn't directly meet a lot of them but 

Curiosity aka “Apple” aka “Heather” aka “Bee”aka...:The spark that fuels innovation ne the spiral of a downfall. frequently visits human world, team switches between stopping them from blowing up a building to playing Mario kart together. Like he definitely causes trouble and should not keep escaping through the portal but like...he’s fun to got to the mall with. Funky Lil dude who’s there for a good time and some chaos. Changes aliases all the time.

Nostalgia aka “Honey-Lavender”: the kind that leaves the ghost of a smile on your face, the kind that drowns you in the past, the kind that makes you want to go back, or forget. mostly stays in hell. One of the demons Dante visits and is acquainted with. They lay and talk. She can be a downer but he doesn’t mind, he appreciates the company and some days she keeps him tethered to his life and sanity (on the bad says she has the opposite effect, she can’t help it)

OKAY AHAHA THATS ENOUGH OUT OF ME THERE THEY ARE THANKS

#OH BOY UM OKAY #j mysticalien ocs #I’m cringing putting some of this on here but #j mysticalien speaks #Dante Cordie Alice

[anboringday]

A Date With Lenny | Part 3

Pairing: Lenny Summers x F!reader/OC

Summary: Lenny and his lover spends some quality time together in Valentine. Head over heels for one another, things get heated between the two rather quickly ;) 

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: NSFW/Explicit

Read on ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Arms linked, Lenny and I sauntered out of the crowded saloon. It was a lively night in Valentine, a constant stream of interested visitors trotted through on horseback. Fellers loitered outside the stores, laughing and chatting boisterously. Penned pigs squealed, stray dogs panted in the heat, and chimes rung as doors opened. The noise and activity of the teeming little town was disorderly and loud, but not unpleasant. In fact, it was quaint. The people here were unfettered, spirited, and unapologetically free.  

Normally, I felt rather small and out of place in the company of strangers, but with Lenny beside me, all my silly fears and insecurities melted away. He escorted me through town in his black brushed cotton vest and matching trousers, his shirt and neckerchief both a pristine white. And god, he looked damn fine too, putting every other man in attendance to shame. Ever so often, the women that crossed our path would stare, sometimes tripping over their own feet as they took in his remarkably handsome face.

But he was all mine, and I made it known to the world by keeping my arm hooked possessively around his. Occasionally rubbing his strong shoulders. Stroking his toned biceps. He’d return the affection by showering my cheeks with tiny, playful kisses as we strolled aimlessly along Valentine’s dirt road. We had no destination in mind, no grand plans, or schedules to keep. We were simply enjoying each other’s company, and I couldn’t have been happier.

Cradling a flask of whiskey to his chest, Lenny took a swig. “See, the saloon wasn’t so bad, right? We ate a full course, top-notch quality meal in absolute peace, undisturbed—no bar fights, and only a few drunken bastards got rowdy and ruined the mood. Usually it’s much worse.”

“We have to keep a low profile,” I muttered. “We’re lucky no one recognized you.”

“Have you forgotten that I am the living embodiment of luck—” He tripped over a rock and tumbled clumsily, landing on his backside with a rough thud.

My heart skipped a beat. “Lenny!” I hovered over him. “Are you okay?”

With the cutest, goofy grin plastered to his face, he patted himself down for injuries. “No broken bones…I’ll live, I reckon.”  

His wide, bright smile was contagious. Holding the hem of my flowy skirt, I crouched to his level and surveyed him briefly. Besides being stricken with a bad case of the giggles, he seemed fine. “Of course, you’ll live. You have an obligation to keep breathing, Mr. Summers, ‘cause I wouldn’t last a day without you.”

“Is that so? I guess you’re stuck with me then…forever!” His arms enclosed around my waist, he tugged me to the ground playfully.

“Get off, you silly man!” With a hastily suppressed snicker, I squirmed about in his warm embrace. “Release me!”

“Nooo, you can’t get rid of me—not ever! You’re all mine. Just submit already, woman!” He attacked my cheeks with a frantic rush of kisses.

I smothered a chuckle from the sensation of his beard stubble brushing against my skin, but once he started tickling my sides, my voice rang up a scale and crackled hysterically. Whenever I tried to pull away, he’d draw me right back in, fragrantly fun, carefree, and mischievous despite the dozens of onlookers in our midst.

I tickled him back, and Lenny’s laughter was so jubilant, pure as the Heavens above, childish even despite his adulthood and masculinity. His mirth was like the summer sun and the stars at the peak of dawn. Whenever I heard it, no matter the time of day or weather, the world brightened.

Breathing in his tantalizing, uniquely familiar scent, I nuzzled my nose against his. “I love you.”

Stiffening abruptly, a rush of red stained his cheeks. His voice lowered, quiet and shy. “Hey, you’re making me feel all fuzzy and warm inside. There’s folks around—I’m not blushing, am I?”

“You are. It’s adorable.” I stood and extended a hand to him. “Now get up outta that dirt, silly.”

“C’mere, Sugar.” With a captivating smile, he lured me down to his level once again. He tipped his chin toward the sky. “Look at the stars, ain’t they pretty?”

Pinpoints of silver peeped in and out of the masses of gray clouds overhead. It was going to rain soon. I wiped the dust from my skirt. “You’re ruining my outfit, handsome.”

“What does it matter? I’m just gonna take it off you anyway.” He took another sip of his whiskey.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, cowboy.”

Music blared from the nearby saloon, a live performance it sounded like. There was clapping and cheering, a soulful feminine voice filled the air, blending in elegantly with the strum of stringed instruments.

Lenny’s brows shot up. “You hear that?”

I nodded. “It sounds lovely.”

He tossed his whiskey aside and rose, lifting me along with him. Taking my hand in his, he preformed a courtly bow, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “My lady, may I have this dance?”

“Dance?” My face heated at the proposal. “H-here?”

“Right here, right now.”

Filled with embarrassed discomfort, I lowered my head. “There’s an awful lot of people around, Lenny.”

“Don’t be scared. We’re in this together. Just focus on me, okay?”

Arms encircling my waist, he anchored me against him, swaying to the music. I was tense and on edge at first, I’ve never danced in public. Let alone in the center of town where just about every neighboring feller, woman, loyal steed, and child could take a gander.

But once his hazel gaze found mine, our bustling surroundings melted away. Hypnotized by the shimmering sparks of gold in the depths of his eyes, all I could see was him. The way his lean body glided with effortless rhythm and fluidity. How his muscles flexed and rippled with every slight movement beneath his shirt. Following his gentle motion, my arms slid around his neck. He was my world, and the moment was ours.

“We coulda done this in the saloon, you know,” I said.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “I know going to that saloon in particular was my idea, but uh, honestly…I didn’t feel comfortable in there.”

“Why? Did one of those drunkards do something? Say something? I swear, if there are any inbred yokels around here, you just point me in their direction—”

“No, it wasn’t that.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Every fella in there was eyeballing you. It ain’t no crime to look but…” His voice trailed off.

I frowned. “I didn’t notice anyone was staring, I’m sorry—”

“Hey, don’t apologize for being the prettiest girl in town. You got all the women in the West green with envy and the fellas? They salivate over you like a pack of rabid dogs after a bone. And regardless of all that, you chose me. Feels like a dream. The best damn dream.” He dipped me back and kissed my temple. I held onto him as his full lips drifted to my neck, brushing over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes on a moan when he caught the lobe of my ear between his teeth, the spontaneity of it all warmed my heart, and awakened a fierce ache between my legs.

With he straightened me, I was near breathless and dizzy. There was an applause, and whistling coming from over my shoulder. Lenny’s grasp on me was strong and clinging, as if I could slip through his fingers at any given moment. “You’re mine, I’m yours, and now everybody knows it.”

I flushed, perversely flattered and delighted by his possessiveness. “You know, this isn’t exactly what I’d call ‘keeping a low profile’,” I whispered.

“So, about that…” He grinned sheepishly, a boyish smile so cutely at odds with the wiry, solid sexuality of his body. “I ain’t the best at laying low, never have been. Everywhere I go, something or somebody starts kickin’ up a fuss and I get dragged into it. For example, some fool gets robbed—by no fault of mine, might I add—then that same fool gets brave and winds up with a bullet in his gut. And of course, being the law-abiding citizen that I very much am, I got no choice but to intervene.”

I smiled. “So, all this time you’ve been playing the hero? Everything the lawmen said about you was a lie?”

“The law ain’t never been fair or smart.”

“That much is true.” The sky rumbled, and the clouds began to shed some heavy droplets of rain. Folks began to retreat indoors, while a select few preferred to take shelter under the general store awnings.

“Well, there goes our audience,” Lenny said. “A real shame, too. I was getting used to the limelight.” He took off his brown leather cowboy hat and gave it to me. “Here, Sugar. For your hair.”

“Thank you.” I nuzzled my face to his chest. “We should go. The storm is only going to get worse.”

Seemingly unbothered by the rain, he tilted my chin up and settled his mouth on mine. A rush of warmth flowed through me, the soft sweetness of his kiss weakened my knees. Gradually, the pressure of his lips increased, and I surrendered myself to him. His tongue stroked slow and tenderly over mine. Our connection was wildly passionate and undeniable. I was so absorbed by him, possessed by his sweet love, I hardly noticed the drizzle running down our faces to where our lips connected. The cold rain mingled with the uniquely wonderful taste of him.

The working of his mouth against mine made me hot. Restless. I pushed a hand into his gloriously damp hair and sucked on the bottom of his lip, tracing my tongue over its perfect fullness, nibbling, gently pulling…

The sound of his groan was so satisfyingly deep and erotic, my core throbbed, uncomfortably wet. Lenny broke the kiss, his chest heaving. “Damn…what are you doing to me?”

I smiled innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gripping my hips, he crushed me to him, the impressive package between his legs brushed my thigh. “I…I-I need to be inside you,” he confessed with some difficulty. “I’m aching.”

Moved by the extent of his longing, I stood on the tip of my toes and reclaimed his lips, my palms sliding all over his lethally sexy body. We were drenched in the chilly, pouring rain, but not even the forces of nature could keep my hands off him. “There’s a hotel next door,” I said between kisses.

Lenny nodded an assent and lifted me off my feet, my legs hooked around his waist. He carried me across the road and through the hotel’s swinging doors. The lobby was empty.

“I’ll be just a minute!” a voice I presumed to be the receptionist called out from down the hall.

Still holding me in his powerful arms, Lenny leaned against the front desk as we made out with reckless abandon. The soul-reaching massage of his lips sent shivers rippling up my spine. Raising my skirt a fraction, his hips started moving, the hard length of his cock grinding sinfully against me through the confides of his pants. Oh, god…a deep hunger stirred inside me. I had to have him—all of him—and it had to be soon. Or else I’d go crazy.

I held onto him for dear life, trembling from the hot, delicious friction. I didn’t care who was watching. I was way past the point of shyness, the primal desire to be fucked by this beautiful outlaw was at the forefront of my mind. It was all that mattered.

My skin burning hot and flustered, I whimpered. “I want you, Lenny.”

Muscles tense and visibly shaking with lust, he uttered huskily, “Fuck, I want—I need you.”

I buried my face in the crook of his corded neck, ravaging his skin with love bites and licks. “How bad do you need me?”

“Real bad. More than anything. I’ll beg if I got to. I’ll plead. I’ll get on my damn knees right now.” He swallowed deep, his expression tight and eyes smoldering. “If we don’t get a key soon, I might just bend you over this desk and fuck you right here.”

I trembled. It sounded like a threat as much as a promise, the scorching intensity of his words so unlike him. He was losing his composure, the desire stripping away his inhibitions and calm, sweet-tempered mannerisms. Only I could do this to him. It was a major turn-on and confidence boost.

“Here I am!” the receptionist finally arrived, scrambling into his rightful place behind the desk. His presence was a blur, I was too preoccupied enjoying the softness of Lenny’s lips. I could probably come like this, just by kissing him if we went at it long enough.

“Good Lord Almighty!” the receptionist gaped at us. “You kids need a room immediately! Luckily for you, we have one available. Just one. It’s been a big night for tourism, with that band of fancy folk from Saint Denis parading through town, playing their music and causing a ruckus. I don’t understand how anyone can get anything done with all that darn noise and commotion—”

Lenny shoved a hand into his satchel and flung a couple dollars at the chatty receptionist. It stopped his ranting, thank goodness.

“Second floor, first room on your right.” Once he passed over the key, Lenny whisked me upstairs. Heedless of everything and everyone, our hot, lingering kisses didn’t break as he fumbled with the lock. A moment later, the door opened, and we were inside a dimly lit room bathed in candlelight, rain softly drummed against the windowpanes.

Lenny dropped me on the bed. I reached for his vest and ripped it open, the buttons scattered across the hardwood floor. “Get naked, cowboy.”

He laughed, shrugging out of his shirt and suspenders, and then unbuckling his gun belt. I ran my hand down his chest in awe. His deep brown skin illuminated by the warm, flickering light, he glowed like flames piercing the darkness, radiant with transcendental beauty and mystery. I wanted him so bad, it hurt.

I nuzzled my face against the solid ridges of his damp, god-like abdomen. “Christ, why are you so perfect?”

“Perfect?” He pinched my cheek playfully. “Aw, you really think so? Arthur told me the same thing once, but he was drunk and vomiting in a pig pen outside the saloon when he said it—”

“Lenny…” Grinning, I swatted his hand off my cheek. “You’re ruining the mood.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Flashing an apologetic smile, he tossed aside the wet hat on my head and helped me out my clothes with gentle finesse. I went for his zipper, freeing his thick cock. My mouth watered. He was rock-hard, and throbbing. I traced the flat of my tongue along the heavy veins coursing his length, slow and worshipfully.  

He fisted my hair, restraining me just before I took him into my mouth. “Nuh-uh, Sugar. That can wait. Lay down.”

My brows raised. Apparently, Lenny was in charge tonight. I obeyed, curious of what he had in store.

The heat and clean, woodsy scent of his body took my breath away once he came down on me. “You’re beautiful.” He plumped one breast in his hand, kissing my neck, his lips grazing back and forth over my tender, flustered skin. I squirmed from the heady sensation. My legs locked around his hips, silently urging him to make love to me already. Near mindless with need, I struggled to find my voice, to formulate words. All that slipped from my throat was tiny, helpless whimpering.

He took himself in his hand and stroked my slick entrance, the soft nudges of his cock head agonizingly teasing. I arched my hips, my body straining toward him, desperate for a connection. He was making me wait, avoiding my clit and somehow resisting the temptation of fucking me despite my pleading.

“Lenny, please. What are you waiting for?”

“Hush now,” he said. “You’ll be ready for me soon.”

“I’ve been ready for you for the longest. Since this morning.”

He nipped my neck, sucking feverishly. Surely leaving a mark behind. Inflamed and trembling in distress, I rolled my hips against the rigid column of flesh he so cruelly teased me with. Patiently, he coaxed me to the brink of insanity. I was soaked in my own wetness, creaming madly for the feel of him inside me.

Raking my nails across his back, I pulled him closer. I needed him to fuck me more than I needed my next breath. “Now,” I gasped. “Need you now.”

With an expert shift of his hips, he pushed into me hard, and so pleasantly deep.

“Oh, God, yes,” I moaned, shuddering, clenching around him. Finally. Warmth struck my heart. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, too long—

“Don’t come,” he murmured, his palms slipped under my hips and cupped my behind, squeezing.

“Excuse me?” I was so close to the edge already. How the hell did he expect me not to go off?

“Good things come to those who wait. It feels so much better in the end.” Lenny started to move, his thrusts lazy and tortuously slow. “Can you do that for me, Sugar? Can you make it last?”

The cadence of his soft-spoken, drawling words sounded so sweet in my ears, so delicate. A fierce ache struck my chest. I was hopelessly in love with him, and more than willing to submit to his every need and request.

“It’s not fair,” I mumbled, my vision blurred with tears. “You have no idea how good you feel inside me.”

“Trust me, I-I do.” Lenny’s leisurely rhythm came to an abrupt halt, his body shivered violently. Jaw clenched, a groan slipped through his lips, tension contorted the gorgeous features of his face. Holding back seemed to be affecting him as well.

Quickly regaining his poise, he resumed screwing me. Lenny knew my body so well, all the tender spots that demanded attention and how precisely to stroke them. It was all muscle memory to him at this point. Over and over, his cock rubbed the bundle of quivering nerves clenching, aching for his touch.

Gripping the sheets with white-knuckled force, I smothered an upsurge of sobs, thrashing against the overwhelming need to climax. I was burning from the inside out, our bodies sticky with sweat. Trembling uncontrollably, I couldn’t hold back for much longer…

“Don’t come,” Lenny repeated. “Make this last. Just hold on.”

“I c-can’t. It feels amazing. Jesus, Lenny…” Tears escaped my eyes. I was falling apart, utterly and irreversibly lost in him. “I love you. I-I love you so, so much…”

He kissed away the tear tracks on my face. “Hold me. Don’t you let go.”

I released the covers and clung to him. His heavy-lidded gaze snagged with mine, searing into me. He sighed heavily, from pleasure, tension, or both—I couldn’t tell. His hips still surging at a moderate, deliberately restrained tempo that was driving senseless, I blurted, “Slow down. Please. I’ll come if you don’t slow down.”

“Will you now?” A wicked smile pulled at his lips. “I thought you wanted to come, Sugar. Why the change of heart?”

My back arched as his hold on my behind grew bruising. He lifted my hips into his thrusts, and I cried out, my core boiling and tightening with a pressure so severe, I feared I’d snap in two if I didn’t give into my bodily cravings soon.

“I won’t come,” I panted. “Not—not until y-you say so.”

His hazel eyes softened, sympathetic almost as he watched me quiver helplessly beneath him. One hand clasping the side of my face, he kissed me with a heartrending tenderness, his tongue caressing mine. Yes.

“Come for me,” he fucked me harder, dominating my body, although his voice was honeysweet against my lips. “I need to feel you…”

With his permission, an orgasm erupted inside me like a volcano, molten pleasure spreading from my core and overcoming the entirety of my body in a scorching wave. It was remarkable. Explosive. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I let out a shrill cry, writhing under Lenny’s sweat-slick muscles. His name spewed repeatedly from my lips as he fucked me into blissful oblivion.

The climax surged on and on. I was melting, drowning in the immense ecstasy of being loved by him, pleased by him. He was my everything, and without him I was empty and hollow. I could die in his arms right now and regret not a thing, because I’ve never truly lived a day until I met him.  

The connection we shared was incredibly intense, inside and outside the bedroom. But when we were making love like this, intimately linked, giving and receiving pleasure from one another like our lives depended on it…our bond felt unbreakable. It was frightening how deeply I adored him—an outlaw. A man the law wanted strung up by a noose…

A muscle twitching in his jaw, he rode out my climax until the clenches faded; then he slowed down his pace, burying himself inside me languidly. He sucked in a harsh breath, eyes dark and dilated, his strong body convulsed furiously. He was teetering on the edge of an orgasm, still denying himself the pleasure he’s been working toward all night long. The glaring self-control and perseverance Lenny emanated was something to be envied.

I gathered his hair in my hands, kissing the side of his damp throat. “You’re shaking, handsome. Do I feel that good?”

“Yes,” he rasped, pounding into me erratically, his balls slapping against the curve of my behind. “Oh shit, yes.”

A bead of sweat dripped from his chin onto the corner of my lip. I slid my tongue along his sculpted jawline, collecting the saltiness with a soft murmur of satisfaction. He tasted so good, and the scent of his lust smelled even better.

“Why don’t you come inside me, cowboy?” I teased, my voice husky. “You know you want to.”

He clasped the nape of my neck, his gaze burned into mine. “Do you want me to?”

I had just as much control over his body as he did mine and I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Lenny. Come.”

With a serrated groan, his beautiful cock jerked, spurting hotly, flooding me with his heat. His hips ground against mine, he emptied his load as deeply as he could inside me. I don’t know how long we laid there holding each other, spent and panting. Eventually, our breathing steadied and our bodies cooled.

“Leonard Summers!” a rugged voice shouted from outside, piercing the calm serenity of the rain. “We know you’re in here! Give yourself up, boy, there ain’t nowhere left to run!”

Lenny shot up from the bed.

Still wrapped up in a sex-induced daze, my brain struggled to comprehend what the hell was happening. Lazily, I sat up, covering my exposed breasts with the sheets. “What’s going on?”

Lenny inched to the window and glanced furtively though the blinds. “Lawmen,” he winced. “A lot of ‘em.”

I shivered, my heartbeat sped up. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I was, Sugar. Maybe you were right—coming ‘round here was, in fact, a real bad idea.” His teeth gleamed in a lopsided smile, confident and reassuring despite our unfortunate circumstances. “So, uh…you know how to handle a gun, right?”

My eyes widened. Oh no…

#lenny summers #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdrwriting #rdr fanfic #arthur morgan #red dead #red dead redemption #rdr fandom #romance #lenny summers x reader

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Yesterday I saw the most hilarious, surreal, and slightly horrifying thing that I've witnessed in a long time. And I live in a college town with it's own Spiderman & Deadpool that wander the city, a Pyramid Head that meanders down random streets when fog covers the town, & a van painted as The Mystery Machine more often than not driven by someone who is dressed as (and resembles) Shaggy while his co pilot is an enormous stuffed Scooby Doo.

What I'm trying to say is that a lot of weird shit goes on here because of our large college student population & it's genuinely one of the main reasons I raised The Spawn here. But this... this was a whole different thing entirely.

I was sitting in the car at the park playing pokemon while dad walked the beasts. I usually try to walk around a bit to go drop or beat up gyms, but I got injured on Wednesday breaking up the dogs, so I decided the car was best. Besides, where we park is directly in front of the main play structure entrance & there are two stops within reach, so I can drop lures and camp.

So I'm sitting there, catching pokemon & listening to that audio book (Dungeon Crawler Carl, please see previous posts about it because it consistently gets better & should be heard by everyone) when something catches my eye.

I turn & look in slight horror, thinking I was definitely mistaken about what I saw.

But no, casually strolling up to the play structure were 2 middle school aged girls (for those outside of the US, that's age 11-13) in FULL OC FUR SUITS.

Y'all. It was 94°f with a heat index of 105°f & here these girls were... full fur suits.

Now, let me first say that I've nothing against the fur suit crowd. At all. Whatever floats your boat. Whatever tickles your pickle. BUT there's a time & a place to wear that. A children's park at 830 pm on a Thursday ain't it. Especially when the risk of heat stroke is super possible.

Second, I have to give props because while the suits were clearly homemade, they were pretty good from a structural standpoint. Tail structure could use work but still, pretty solid. They were a dragon with black fur with shimmery dark green scale print accents & what I think was a stylized version of a fennec fox that was white fur with lime green fur accents.

And this isn't even the most confounding part.

There was a man, clearly the dad of one of them, following at a distance (because at that age they are doing the 'omg walk way behind us so nobody thinks you're with us. We're old enough to go alone & you're super embarrassing!' thing).

Now this parent... one of two things is happening with that guy for him to have been ok with this.

#1 is a scenario that I find unlikely but I guess within the realm of possibility. Maybe dude doesn't know about furries & fur suits. He just thinks his daughter & her friend make up the cute critters & want to dress up as them like people do for comic & anime conventions.

(Why do I think this is unlikely? Dude looked to be in his 40s or 50s & literally anyone who spends ANY time on the internet knows about furries. Shit, my 60 yr old father knows what they are.)

#2 is FAR more likely but not any less fucking hilarious. The dad knows damned well what furries & fur suits are. He recognizes these 'costumes' for what they are but has done something every parent is guilty of at some point, no matter how savvy or 'with it' they are... he believes that his innocent little girl couldn't possibly know about all that. She just saw people creating characters & fur suits, and being an artistic type herself decided it looked like a fun idea.

I can almost guarantee that scenario 2 is his thought process & that his thought process is also absolutely incorrect.

And thus went my adventure at the park last night.

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and Hoseok celebrate their birthday at the dorm.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [9/2/21: some minor edits] [Masterlist]

Track 20: Birthdays

Birthday- The Beatles

“You say it's your birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah”

February 18th 2013

Aviva’s three-day suspension ended just before her birthday. Hobi suggested they both ditch and do something fun for the day, but she knew he was joking (mostly). He was in crunch time, really pushing to prepare for the debut, and she was eager to get back to work and do her best to support them.

It was a fairly normal day at work, with no one mentioning or treating her any differently because of the suspension. She was surprised when the office gave her a cake from Paris Baguette during her lunch break, even though it was a fairly standard policy, she had thought they might want to exclude her this time.

After work, Aviva went for out for a late dinner with Soonyoung. She stopped back at the office to pick up some paperwork, and was surprised to see the van still in the parking lot. Jin had offered to drive the boys back, so why were they still here? She went to the Bangtan Room and found them...

“Are you filming a Harlem Shake video?” She wondered, having walked in on a strange number of poses. Everyone froze. Namjoon blushed.

“Yep.” Hoseok tipped the brim of his cap away from his face to grin at her. “You’ll edit it and post it before the night ends, right?”

“What? No way.”

“But it’s my birthday!” He whined.

“But it’s my birthday!” She whined back at him. Everyone laughed.

“Won’t you bake me a cake at least?” Hoseok asked, pouting at her.

“Hmm…” She glanced at her phone. “It’s getting late. Anyway, didn’t the company give you one?”

“Yeah, but yours are better!”

“Paris Baguette is pretty good, I think...” But she was smiling.

“Why don’t you hang out with us, noona?” Jimin suggested. “We were gonna watch a movie at the dorm after this.”

“I can make extra popcorn!” Jin said excitedly.

“I don’t really care about popcorn… but, maybe I will hang out,” she thought. “Let’s head back to the dorm, okay?”

Jimin, Jin, and Hoseok cheered.

She texted Soonyoung to let her know, and then got to work baking a cake. They ate cake and popcorn as they watched Hoseok’s favorite movie (which also happened to be a favorite of Aviva’s). Aviva found herself on the floor leaning against Yoongi’s legs, with Jimin and Tae snuggled on either side of her. At some point Jungkook migrated his head onto her lap with his legs sprawled over Jimin. Yoongi and Namjoon and fallen asleep curled up in the corner of the couch, while Hoseok stretched out with his feet in Jin’s lap.

As the movie came to an end, Jin stood up and started to clean. Aviva tried to move to help him, but was weighed down by three growing boys.

Jin waved his hand. “Just let them rest for a few more minutes. Hoseok-ah can help me clean.”

“But it’s my—” Hoseok stopped at a sharp look from Jin. “Yeah, okay, hyung.”

“Hmmm, are you sleeping on the couch again, Aviva-yah?” Yoongi wondered, rubbing his eyes as the boys started heading off to bed.

“Yeah. I already pulled the blanket out.”

He nodded. “Do you need clothes to sleep in?”

“Damn.” She snapped her fingers. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”

“You can sleep in my clothes, noona!” Jimin said. Everyone looked at him suspiciously.

“You sound very… enthusiastic about that, Jiminie,” Namjoon commented.

“No, I just…” Jimin blushed. “I just thought she’d look cute…”

Aviva smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Jiminie, but there’s no way I’d fit into your clothes. You’re too skinny.”

He frowned. “I’m not.”

Aviva ran her hand through her hair. “Maybe skinny isn’t the right word…”

“She means she’s got a chest and hips and you don’t,” Hoseok said.

“Yah!” Jin hit his arm. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

“What?” Hoseok looked at him. “I thought I put that very politely. Anyway, with an elastic waistband, she’d fit in mine, Yoongi, or Tae Tae’s pants likely.” He looked around at them. “Rock, paper, scissors for it?”

Yoongi shrugged. Taehyung nodded, holding up his fist.

“Wait a second,” Aviva said. “Isn’t anybody going to ask me what I want?”

“What do you want, Avi-yah?” Yoongi asked, looking at her steadily.

She froze, her face going pink.

“Ah, never mind,” she said quietly. “I don’t… I don’t want to inconvenience anyone. Maybe I should just go home…”

“No, it’s too late to be driving,” Namjoon told her. “Anyway, you’re never an inconvenience, you’re our friend. We’ll take care of it, okay?”

“…You’re just saying that cause you know your shirts are the only one she fits in,” Jimin muttered. Hoseok tapped his chin.

“Actually, because they prefer a baggy fit, Yoongi-hyung’s sweaters, and some of Jin-hyung’s tops would work,” he thought. Namjoon looked at them.

Yoongi shrugged again. “I don’t care. This is stupid.”

“I agree,” Jin said. “…But I do kind of want to see Avi-yah in pink.”

Yoongi snorted. “Obviously she’d look better in white,” he thought.

“I think black,” Namjoon said. Hoseok nodded.

“Two rounds of rock, paper, scissors it is.”

Aviva turned to Jungkook. “Aren’t you still growing? If we end up the same size I’m only borrowing your clothes and staying away from this nonsense.”

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t care. We all share everything anyway.”

Aviva ended up wearing Hoseok’s sweatpants and Namjoon’s baggiest Supreme shirt.

February 19th 2013

In the morning she turned over, glancing at her phone. It was fifteen minutes before her alarm was set to go off, so she decided to get up early. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, pulled her hair up, and then went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

“Avi-yah?” Taehyung squinted at her sleepily.

“Mmm. Morning Tae. Are you waking up?”

“Hmm…what time is it?” He glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head. “No, I think I’ll sleep a little more, just need the bathroom... you’re waking up?” She nodded, shivering a bit. It had gotten weirdly cold over night. He looked at her thoughtfully. “Want to borrow a sweater? I bet I have one that’ll fit you too.”

“…Okay.”

He smiled. “Great. One second.” He went to the bathroom and then moved over to the closet, pulling out a large green cardigan. “Is this texture okay?” He asked, knowing she didn’t like things that were either too soft or too scratchy. He held it out to her and she ran her fingers over it.

“Just right.”

“Hmm.” He smiled again. “Let me help you.” He motioned at her.

“I can put it on myself.”

“Want to help you.”

She sighed and got down from the stool at the counter, letting him manipulate her into the sweater like she was a giant doll.

“Thanks.”

“Later.” He kissed her cheek and walked off, yawning. She stared after him for a moment and then shook her head, settling back down on the couch and pulling out her laptop.

Just as she was finishing editing Hoseok’s video, she got a message from her sister.

 ‘Hey, u ok?’

 ‘Yeah. Y?’

 ‘… u forgot, didn’t you?’

Aviva tilted her head, trying to remember what she had forgotten. Oh! She was supposed to be on a Skype call with her family for her birthday. She glanced at the time. She had long enough to speak to them for a while before everyone woke up and got ready for the day. She clicked through some settings and made the call. Her parents and her sister were sitting on the couch in their living room, Jen’s arms crossed over her chest as she pouted.

“I can’t believe you forgot about your own birthday call!” Jenny said.

“Yeah, hello to you too, Jen,” Aviva said. Jenny huffed. Their mother smiled.

“It’s good to see you,” she said. “You look... cozy. Is that a new sweater?” Aviva touched the cardigan.

“Ah, no, it’s not mine, I’m just borrowing it cause it’s cold in here,” she told them.

“Where are you?” Her dad wondered, his eyes searching. “It doesn’t look like your apartment.”

“It’s the boys’ dorm. I… was editing a video,” she said vaguely.

“Oh, is JK there?” Jenny wondered, looking around excitedly.

“Hmm, he’s probably not awake yet,” she told her.

“Ah, too bad,” their mother said. “He was such a polite young man. And handsome too!”

“Mom!” Jenny said, her face flushing. Their mom just grinned. Their dad shook his head.

“What video are you editing?” He wanted to know.

“Um, just another meme one,” she told him. “I don’t know if you’d understand…”

“I still don’t understand what a meme is,” he muttered, rubbing his chin.

“Yeah, and I keep trying to explain it to you,” Jen said, shaking her head. The three of them talked for about fifteen more minutes before the door opened, and a sleepy Yoongi wandered in. His hair was impressively mussed, and his eyes were barely open. He was hugging his laptop to his chest.

He automatically went to sit on the couch, almost sitting on top of Aviva.

“Ah, oppa, I’m on a call, sorry!” She called out in Korean. He froze, and then slowly looked at the screen. His face flushed.

“Hello,” he said awkwardly in English, bowing.

“Um, guys, this is one of the group members, Yoongi,” she told her family.

“Oh, if he’s awake does that mean JK is awake?” Jen reasoned.

“Probably not,” Aviva thought. She looked at Yoongi, who appeared frozen in his bow. She nudged him. “It’s fine,” she told him in Korean. “You didn’t do anything wrong. These are my parents and my sister.” She pointed them out.

He straightened up and waved.

“I can’t… I’m not awake enough for this,” he muttered in Korean. “I just wanted to get some editing done, I forgot you were here…”

“Is anyone else awake?” She wondered. “They can come say hi if they want before I sign off. Jen would really like to see Kookie.”

“Hmmm. I’ll wake him,” Yoongi said reluctantly. “But you owe me coffee.”

“Sure,” Aviva said, not really caring. “Just don’t go back to sleep, oppa, it’s almost time to get ready to go anyway.”

“No promises.” He left the room.

“…He’s cute,” Jen decided. “Not as cute as JK, but…” Aviva snorted.

For the next ten minutes, various members drifted in and out to say ‘hello’ with Jungkook staying the longest.

Namjoon was excited for the opportunity to practice his English, although a lot shyer than he usually was when he practiced with Aviva.

“Is it true you learned from watching Friends?” Jen wondered.

Namjoon nodded. “Ah. Yes. Good T.V. show.”

“Avi!” Hoseok said, poking his head through the door. “Seokjin-hyung wants to know if you want an egg or toast or something.”

“I’ll take whatever,” she called back to him, glancing at the time again. “Ah, we should get ready.” She smiled apologetically at the screen.

“Okay,” Jen said. “Have a good day at work, Avi—practice hard, JK!”

“Yes, I will!” Jungkook said happily in English. “Thank you!”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon, and good to see you again, Jungkook,” their mother said. Namjoon and Jungkook bowed.

“I will send you that article, Avi,” her dad said.

“Okay, baba, thanks!” She signed off and sighed. “I don’t want to read that article…”

“I thought it sounded interesting,” Namjoon said. She frowned.

“You read it, then.” She yawned. “I want to take a shower before we leave… are there clean towels?”

“I’ll find one for you, noona!” Jungkook said, running off, still buzzing with energy from having seen Jen.

“…He really might become your younger brother some day,” Namjoon thought.

She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Later that week, Kyungsoo finally called her into his office to lecture her about Namjoon’s song Expensive Girl song. Aviva did her best to smooth over any backlash from him and random Internet commenters, but it was a lot of work.

As their punishment, Aviva had Namjoon alone on dorm cleaning duty for the whole week, and assigned Hoseok to extra public speaking lessons.

She came to the dorm to pick Hoseok up for his lessons and found him cleaning. She squinted at him as he froze in the position of sweeping the entryway.

“Hobi… don’t tell me you two switched?”

“Okay…” He said. “I won’t tell you.”

She sighed. “Hoseok, it’s not a punishment if it’s something you enjoy doing. I know you secretly find cleaning relaxing, and Namjoon-ah finds the public speaking lessons fascinating.”

“Hmm. And that’s the problem.” He booped her on the nose, laughing as it wrinkled. “You know us too well, dear manager.”

“Just go wait in the car,” she told him. “I’ll have to speak to Namjoon-ah before we go.” She looked around. Hoseok pointed his thumb behind him.

“He’s in the living room.”

Aviva shivered as she entered the room. Namjoon was on the couch, holding something like a hockey mask in front of his face as Yoongi, who was sitting at the table, curled over laughing. She couldn’t help smiling, pausing in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. She shivered again.

“You still haven’t gotten the heater fixed?”

Namjoon froze. “Ah, Avi-yah.” He put the mask down, his face going pink. “No. We couldn’t find anyone to come look at it, so I tried, and I think I made it worse.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hmmm.” Aviva walked over to the heater, pulling off the top. “I think I can do this. The toolbox is in the bathroom closet, right?”

“Yeah, um. I could go get it for you…” His brow furrowed. “Are you sure you can do it?” She nodded.

“Pretty sure. I helped Soonie’s grandpa fix the heater at their place, and it looked pretty similar to this one.”

Namjoon nodded and left.

“A girl who knows her way around the toolbox… that’s kind of hot,” Yoongi thought, leaning back as he studied her. She raised an eyebrow at him. He flushed slightly. She walked over to him and ran her fingers over his soft fluffy hat, her lips twitching. He stiffened. “What’re you doing?”

“You look adorable,” she told him. His cheeks flushed even pinker.

“I thought you didn’t like soft things?” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from his hat.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t resist.”

He shook his head, smiling slightly.

“What are you doing over here, anyway?”

“Dropping Hobi off at his classes,” she told him. “There’s a nice cafe around there—want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Hmmm…” He played with her fingers for a moment before letting go, turning back to the computer. “I’ve been thinking, since you were technically off duty when Namjoon-ah posted that song… doesn’t that mean it’s not really your responsibility?”

“I’m still your manager, oppa, even if I was… suspended, at the time.” She rested her hand on her hip, studying him. “Are you saying I shouldn’t punish them?” He shook his head.

“No, I don’t really care about that. I just don’t want you creating more work for yourself than necessary.”

She smiled softly at him. “Yoongi—”

There was a loud crash. A moment later, a red-faced Namjoon rushed into the room.

“Okay, so I may have dropped the toolbox, and everything is everywhere, but I don’t think anything’s broken!”

“Aish, Joonie.” Aviva clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “I’ll clean it up—ah, but I can’t leave Hoseok-ah waiting in the car for so long…”

“Hosekie can take the train,” Yoongi said. “Namjoon-ah and I will help you clean up.” Aviva nodded.

“Thanks, oppa. Hobi better not skip his class.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Yoongi grinned evilly. Namjoon shivered.

“Chen Aviva!” Hoseok sang out as he entered the kitchen.

“Huh?” She looked up at him from the sink. “How did you know I was still here?”

“I have my ways…”

She turned around, frowning as she noticed him staring at her.

“What?”

“You look really hot right now, like, figuratively, but also literally, what were you doing to get so sweaty?”

She glanced down at herself. She had stripped down to her undershirt, which was soaked through with sweat.

“I fixed the damn heater, but then it got too hot and I had to adjust it again before it killed Yoongi-oppa’s equipment and he killed me in revenge.”

“So… it’s okay now?” He wondered. She nodded.

“Finally, it’s okay. I’m gonna borrow your shower, I just needed to clean my hands off first and the bathroom sink is kind of… There was like… grease?” She shook her head. “I don’t know, Joonie did something weird.”

Hoseok nodded absentmindedly. “Well, after you get out of the shower, you can eat this.” He held a paper bag out to her. She peeked inside, her eyes widening as she smiled.

“How did you know?”

“Yoongi-hyung mentioned there was a cafe near my classes you liked, and so we Instagram stalked you to find where it was and what you like to get there.”

“That’s creepy, but also sweet,” she thought. “How did your lessons go?”

“Not as bad as I thought they would be, actually. I’m gonna start beating Joon at public speaking, next thing you know.”

“I don’t think it’s a competition, but I’m still proud of you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek on her way out.

Over the next few weeks, a few of Namjoon’s freestyles, as well as one of his and Yoongi’s collaborations had gotten Aviva thinking about the draft. Namjoon and Hoseok, having just turned twenty were eligible candidates and were required to take physical exams. Afterwards, they went out for drinks with Jin, Yoongi, Aviva, and Soonyoung. Aviva was trying to understand more about it, but it just wasn’t clicking for her.

“I don’t think it’s something you can really understand without growing up here,” Yoongi said.

“You’re probably right,” Aviva thought.

“Hmmm. You don’t have anything similar in the US?” Hoseok wondered.

“There hasn’t been a draft in the US since the Vietnam War,” Aviva told him. “I do remember my dad talking about how much anxiety it caused him and his friends. And my mom was worried about her brother when she was growing up.”

“Hmm, yeah. America has a lot of issues, but that’s not one of them, currently,” Soonyoung said. She sipped her drink. “Like, we could totally talk about the socioeconomic and racial aspects of US Army recruitment, but that’s a somewhat different problem.” Namjoon stared at her. “The system is majorly flawed, dude.”

“Most systems are,” Yoongi thought. He looked at Aviva. “But why are you bringing this up?”

“You’re right it’s not something I can personally understand. But… I see it’s stressing you out, so… I’m here, if you need me.” She looked around at the others. “For all of you, I mean.”

“Yah, that’s nothing special, Avi’s always been there for me,” Soonyoung said, wrapping her arms around the other girl possessively.

“Hmm, but that’s because you’re special to her, which must mean we’re special to her as well!” Jin reasoned cheerfully.

Soonyoung smiled at him. “Aren’t you sweet?”

Jin blushed. Everyone laughed.

#bts #fanfiction #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim namjoon #bts world #bts predebut #idolverse #manager!oc #bts x oc #bts fanfiction

[shortythescreen]

come over

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, friends with benefits, sex with feelings lol. 

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.  

Author’s Notes: this was my first post on ao3 and i’m trying to actually start using this blog so. here’s the post, lmao! my spanish sucks but i understand everything, hence the ref to a meme in spanish. :) 

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

come over?

That’s what lights up your phone screen at damn near three in the morning. You roll over, squinting at the bright screen as you grab it from your bedside table. It’s one of the lamest texts you’ve ever gotten. It’s barely a step up from the even more basic ‘u up?’ and you’re half tempted to leave him on read. Octavio can do better than that.

Yet, you scroll through your compilation of gifs and send him one of a woman rolling her eyes. Sure, it’s disdainful but he now knows that you are, in fact, awake.

About three months ago, you were offered a job by Apex, the corporation running the well renowned Apex Games. The offered pay was astronomical in comparison to what you made at your humble little gig as a thorn in a journalist’s side. Room and lodging would be included in the miniature city built just for Champions and the people who made the games happen.

All you had to do was do what you do best. Take pictures.

Every advertisement, webpage, and piece of merchandise is covered with your pictures of the Legends. Those that you take in the studio given to you and those that you take off the clock. Every picture on your camera belongs to Apex, even with your signature scratched at the bottom of all of them.

Because of this, it had taken a select few Legends time to warm up to you. Others, not so much.

Octavio, better known as Octane, might as well have sat in your lap when you walked in with a camera hanging around your neck.

Though you’re a lot quieter than ‘The Adrenaline Junkie’, you have about as much impulse control as he does. So one night when he’d visited you in your studio a little past business hours, brandishing a bottle of Hennessey Black the size of your head, one thing lead to another and, well.

The events of that night lead to you getting texts from Octavio at damn near three in the fucking morning asking you to come over.

i have a box of wings and a bottle of Smirnoff with ur name on it.

You bite the tip of your tongue. The offer’s tempting.

and other things, if you can keep up. ;)

That, even more so.

Against your better judgment, you text him back with words instead of a gif. You’ll be over in ten minutes.  If he drinks all the liquor before you get there, you’re leaving. You imagine him cackling at his screen because if you know him at all, and you do, he’s probably polished off at least a quarter of the bottle on his own.

Octavio’s apartment is a five minute walk from yours but you gave yourself an extra five to brush your teeth and find your shoes. The penthouse suites offered to all the Legends is right across the street from your simple one bedroom.

When you first moved in, you thought maybe Apex Corp wanted you to take paparazzi sort of shots of their competitors. They’ve never asked you to and you haven’t bothered to try, so you guess they just gave you what was available.

Whatever. You don’t mind living in earshot of some of the deadliest people in the Outlands. Especially now that you’re fucking one of them.

God, you never thought you’d be in this position. Sure, you’re not fucking blind, most of the Legends are attractive. Bangalore has a smirk that drops panties and a voice that’s a little more gravelly than the average woman. Wraith’s got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, powers or otherwise, and her skin is flawless. Gibraltar could probably defeat half of his opponents by throwing them.

Even those that you can’t see the faces of have appeal – Bloodhound’s shroud of mystery has gained them quite the following online and what Octavio doesn’t show of his face is made up for by his stupid little crop top.

You just… Didn’t anticipate any of them finding you attractive too. Least of all the speedster with a penchant for picking up bad habits. Like fucking the photographer. You run your hand down your face as you exit your house, locking it behind you before jogging across the street to the penthouse suites.

Even if you had toyed with the possibility of warming one of their beds, you certainly didn’t think you’d wind up in Octavio’s. Maybe Elliot, who’s got a reputation for getting around, or Ajay, who’s could crush you with her thighs. Octavio, whose accent and stupid selfies had caught the attention of many Apex fans, was the last legend you expected to end up making your heart do the jitterbug-

It’s not, you’re not, you vehemently remind yourself as you enter the elevator of the Legends’ suites. Absolutely not. No way. You walk down the hallway to Octavio’s door, reminding yourself over and over again you’re most certainly not catching feelings and whatever dance your heart is doing has something to do with the lack of sleep.

Even though that makes no sense, it’s what you tell yourself, because there’s no fucking way you’re into Octavio like that. Not into someone you’re just hooking up with. Not into someone who’s only interested in hooking up.

You knock once on his door and you barely have a chance to step back before Octavio’s tearing it open. His mask is gone and even though you’ve seen his face a million times by now, you still take a moment to breathe him in. He’s got the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen, glassy with alcohol, and you notice that he’s in need of a shave, his cheeks tinted dark by pinpricks of facial hair.

“It’s three am,” you tell him.

“Yet here you are, amiga,” he smirks.

“For the booze,” you reply and he snickers, shoving out a plastic cup you hadn’t noticed he was holding. The stench of Smirnoff envelops you and you sigh, snatching it away and shouldering your way into his apartment.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” You ask, flopping on the couch and taking a large enough gulp of your cup to make your nose burn. You squeeze your eyes briefly closed, letting out a little ‘ahh’ as Octavio’s weight sinks the opposite side of the couch.

“Couldn’t stop watching The Flash. But Barry got kinda boring, so I texted you,” he says and you snort, opening one eye to glance at him. You hadn’t even noticed the title glaring at you from the flat screen only a few feet away, the only light in the apartment aside from the stove.

God, he’s so unfairly pretty. He’s resting his tousled head of green hair, the same green as his eyes, in his hand, propped up on the back of the couch. His PLUS ULTRA tattoo peeks out from the three quarter sleeved shirt he’s wearing and you go for your drink, hoping you can excuse the warmth in your chest as Smirnoff.

“Of course you were. You’re so fuckin’ basic.”

“I’m on brand.”

“You’re at home. Alone.”

“Not anymore.”

You snort, finally beginning to feel that warmth in your chest drip down into your stomach. The easy, fuzziness that comes with being here, with drinking and banter and the promise of something so much sweeter.

“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say, “now where are those wings?”

As promised, Octavio brings you a takeout box with about thirty wings. With liquor brewing in your stomach, you probably could demolish them, but you’re barely buzzed and still willing to be polite.

It’s the wee hours of the morning, so you’re grateful that each of the Legends have soundproof walls. You and Octavio put on old telenovelas, even though your Spanish is slim to none, and he makes you laugh by describing the scenes to you.

“Oho man, she’s such a bitch. The mother basically just told the son’s lover acompáñame a ver esta triste historia.”

“I don’t speak Spanish, Oc,” you remind him around a mouthful of a wing coated in ranch.

“Remember how the girl’s parents died when she was six?” He asks and you nod your head, vaguely remembering the shitty graphics acting as flashbacks. “The son’s mother heard that and might as well have said ‘that’s cute’.”

You were right to assume Octavio had already had a hefty serving of alcohol before he’d texted you, as he brings out the bottle when your glass gets low, a little less than half of it gone. He’s got a higher alcohol tolerance than you and it’s obvious the more you two delve into the Smirnoff.

He smirks at you when you whine about the wings getting low, polishing off what must be your twelfth. You’ve officially had enough alcohol to stop being polite and Octavio loops an arm around your shoulder. When had he gotten so close to you on the couch?

“There, there,” he murmurs into your hair, “there will be wings tomorrow, mami.”

“But I want them now,” you complain, only to completely forget your train of thought as you bury your nose in the collar of Octavio’s shirt. “Fuck, you smell good. Do you always smell this good?”

“I smell like liquor,” he snickers, kissing the top of your head and you shudder as he slides his fingers through the small hairs at the base of your neck.

“And soap. What soap do you use? I bet you use Old Spice. Old Spice is so basic but it smells so fucking good,” you ramble, tilting your head just enough so that your lips brush against his collarbone.

“Gracias,” he hums, tilting his head back a smidge. You take this as an invitation and begin placing careful, open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck.

Octavio sighs through his nose, arm around your shoulders sliding down your side to pull you half into his lap. Your teeth scrape his pulse and his grip on you tightens.

“You didn’t say yes or no,” you absently mumble as he grabs a handful of your ass. He squeezes before you pull back just enough to meet those pretty green eyes of his, dark with want.

“Yeah, it’s Old Spice,” he says, then leans in to devour your mouth with his.

Octavio kisses like he moves. Quick, eager, his tongue pushes into your mouth and makes you groan. You haphazardly drape one leg over his, twisting so your chest is flush against his. He bites your lower lip and you whimper, half grinding against his prosthetic legs, cool against your heat.

His free hand sneaks down to grab your other ass cheek, pulling you up to straddle him. His lips leave yours with a pop and he bites his lower lip as you shudder against his dick jumping under your hips.

“We haven’t even started yet,” you say, allowing him to slip his hands beneath your shirt, gripping your breasts and rolling the peaks under his thumbs. You sigh, continuing, “how are you so hard?”

“How are you so sexy?” He snarks, releasing your tits in favor of grabbing the hem of your top. He pulls it off eagerly, eyes hot.  

“You too,” you half beg and he obliges, tugging that snug fitting shirt over his head. You hum, hot with liquor, and with lust, and with the look he’s burning into your chest. He leans back into the couch, drinking in your disheveled state before reaching up to cruelly pinch your nipples.

You gasp, trying to lean into the sensation and alleviate the pain. Octavio only pulls harder, biting his lower lip when you’re almost chest to chest.

“Asshole,” you hiss and he grins, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing.

“You like it,” he says as you relent, going still in his lap. Octavio finally releases his almost too tight grip on one nipple in favor of looping an arm around your waist. He’s torturous to the other, squeezing, rolling, tugging. As a reward for the way you buckled, he slurps the free one into his mouth. You moan, his mouth all wet warmth and cool metal. His thumb flickers teasingly across your other pebbled nipple and you arch your back.

“Oc, please,” you pant and he pulls off of you with a pop, cupping the tit he still has a handle on to flick his tongue across it.

“Por favor? Por favor que?” He half laughs only to break off in a needy groan when you grind against him. “Fuck fuck fuck, okay, stand up for a sec.”

You roll yourself along his dick for a moment longer, relishing in the way his hips instinctually jerk against yours. He squirms beneath you, opting to tightly grab your hips.

“Shit, mami,” Octavio pants, sharply thrusting up before trying to push you off. “C’mon, c’mon, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You finally climb off him and he follows you forward, sharply pulling down your sweats. A long, sticky trail connects you briefly to them and he outright groans at how filthy that is.

“You’re so wet,” he all but whines, fascinatedly rubbing a finger between your lips. Your breath hitches as he pointedly drags his knuckle across your clit, teasing you with the not quite enough touch.

“Shorts off,” you growl, and he hurriedly obeys. His cock springs free as his shorts hit the carpet and your mouth waters. The tip is swollen and pink, leaking with excitement. You’re half tempted to get on your knees, swipe the pre up with your tongue and put him at your mercy.

“Oh, mami, yes, you can do that for me later,” he babbles, making you realize you’d said that aloud. You try to climb back into his lap, only to have him grab you by the shoulders. You yelp as he tosses you onto your back on the opposite side of the couch, maneuvering himself between your thighs.

You two have been doing this long enough to have done away with condoms and you’re so fucking grateful for that as he pushes himself between your lips. Your slick helps him along as he glides the tip against your aching, swollen clit.

“Oc,” you impatiently murmur and he smirks. Octavio is a bastard at the worst times and not even the bedroom is exempt, because he grabs his shaft and taps the leaking tip of his cock against your clit.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He asks and if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d roll your eyes. You settle for propping yourself up on your elbows and thrusting your hips up. His cock catches on your hole and his breath hitches in his throat.

“That bad, huh?” Octavio breathlessly whispers and you glare at him through the fog of your lust.

“Aren’t you supposed to be quick?”

“You want it to be over? Aw, okay, guess I’ll-“

Before he can pull away, you wrap your legs around his waist and yank him against you. Octavio slips, caught off guard, and he catches himself on the arm of the couch, letting out a strangled groan as the tip of his dick breeches your swollen cunt.

“Fuck,” he grits out, suddenly unconcerned with teasing. He drives himself the rest of the way inside and you sigh, relieved to be so wonderfully full.

“I’m trying,” you gleefully counter and he sharply thrusts into you with a laugh that’s half moan.

You reach around, clawing at his lower back as he fucks into you. His elbow lands on the space next to your neck and you find his hand cupping the crown of your head, simply resting there as he fucks you like he’s trying to win a race.

Octavio moans and curses and whines just as much as you do, his green eyes squeezed shut. You rake your nails up the length of his spine and he groans, giving you an especially brutal thrust. Your mouth falls open and he takes the opportunity to sloppily kiss you, tongue pushing past your lips to twist with yours and he doesn’t taste so much like liquor anymore.

You sob into the kiss as he angles his hips down a little, hitting right there. He gets the picture quickly and he aims just so, abusing that place that makes you see stars. His hips snap into yours and you grab his shoulders for purchase. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

It’s him, pulling away from your kiss to watch you with amazed green eyes. It’s him, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his dick. It’s him, passing a thumb over your clit, making your eyes roll back. It’s him, hissing your name as his hips begin to stutter and shake. It’s him.

“C’mon, mami, c’mon, I won’t last,” he gasps, fondling your clit desperately and your jaw drops at the sensation. “C’mon, baby, need it, need to feel that tight pussy squeeze my dick, you can do it, do it for me, please, baby, please-“

You say his name as your orgasm hits you, shaking legs tightening so harshly around his waist you can feel every tremor of his hips. He fucks you through it, relentlessly rubbing your clit and you whimper, reaching down to try and shove his hand away. It doesn’t seem to stop him and finally with two, three more thrusts, he’s coming.

Octavio buries his face in your neck, saying something so low and garbled that you barely pick up that it was in Spanish. You don’t care to ask what he said just yet, too busy catching your breath as you clutch his back.

“Shit…” He breathes, turning his head to rest his nose against your still racing pulse. Now, though, it’s not just with need, but you don’t tell him that.

“How’s that for keeping up?” You ask and he snickers, slowly pulling out of you. Octavio reaches down, grabbing his shorts and tucking them beneath your hips to catch the spunk dripping out of you.

“I’ll go get a wash cloth,” he says as you paw at the coffee table for the TV remote. You groan at the time it shows you.

“It’s almost seven, you ass! I have to be to work in two hours!”

“Guess I kept you up all night. At least you weren’t bored.”

“I hate you,” you groan, scrubbing your hands over your eyes. Octavio snickers, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Oh, hey, wait,” you say, propping your head up. He stops short, meeting your gaze. “What did you say? I was kinda preoccupied and didn’t hear.”

“Kinda? You wound me,” Octavio says, placing a hand over his heart. You unceremoniously flip him off. “You think I remember what I said while I was nutting, chica?!”

Octavio grins roguishly. You roll your eyes, throwing one of the couch cushions at him. It doesn’t get anywhere close to hitting him and Octavio snickers, bending down to toss it back onto the couch. “Who knows?”

Octavio turns back to the bathroom and his playful expression slackens. His brow scrunches up as he flicks the light on, closing the restroom door behind him and staring disbelievingly into the mirror.

Te amo, he’d gasped into your neck when he was overwhelmed with the smell of you, the feeling of you, the taste of you.

#nsft #apex legends #apex lemons #octane #octavio silva #apex legends imagine #octane x reader #octane/reader #lemon #shorty writes #apex octane #apex legends octane #female reader

[s1cparvism4gna]

PuNK

WARNINGS: cursing

Pairings: Rafe Adler x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch, @courtenbae, @tiecladartist

Chapter 7

Rafe’s POV

“No.” I said firmly.

“And why not?” I was on a call with Nadine Ross. Since Samuel evidently had decided to take matters into his own hands and steal from me, I had to do a bit of damage control. I enlisted the help of Shoreline, a group of mercenaries for hire. Nadine was the leader and was currently fighting me to bring her men to the auction. But to me, that was unnecessary. I didn’t need a bunch of goons walking around a high class area flashing their guns at every suspicious person. The whole room was going to be full of suspicious people.

“Because I’m the one writing your checks. What I say goes. It’s either just you or nobody at all.” I was trying my best not to yell. When I looked up from my maps and books, I noticed Lyric passed out on the couch across from me, her hair hanging in her face and snoring a little. I smiled to myself and stood to grab my jacket.

“Rafe, what if—”

“‘What if’ nothing. I have it under control. Security will be tight enough and if anything goes wrong, they’ll handle it.” I said to her as I placed my jacket over Lyric’s thin frame, gently moving her hair from her face. Her thick lashes fluttered on her cheekbones as she groaned and turned in her sleep.

“Fuck…” she said rather clearly, scratching her head and pulling my jacket closer to her face. I smirked as I went back to my seat, wondering what she could possibly be dreaming about. I could hear Nadine arguing about whatever in my ear as I leaned back into my seat, just watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful. Like she needed the rest. Like she needed this trip. I hated to admit it but I needed it too. Things at work had been so stressful. Two or three days in Italy with someone who didn’t entirely piss me off seemed like a good way to wind down.

“No muscle at the auction, Ms. Ross, and that’s final. I’ll hear no more about it.” I eventually said, tired of the nagging in my ear. “I will see you at the auction.”

“Alright…” she answered defeatedly. And with that, she’d hung up.

I pulled the ear piece out and tossed it into my briefcase. I’d been working since we finished dinner and it was time I took a break. I organized my desk, putting my files and maps into a neat pile and sipped on my wine that I happened to forget about. The glass was no longer chilled but I didn’t care. It was a little something to relax. After a few sips, I reclined the seat, crossing my fingers and resting them in my lap as I threw my head back. I closed my eyes hoping that maybe I’d fall asleep. I was on the brink of drifting away when I heard a sigh. I opened my eyes just enough to see through my eyelashes. Lyric was moaning and whining in her sleep. Not the disturbed kind of noise though. More like arousal. For about ten minutes she went on like this, just shifting in her seat. I bit my lip as I listened to her sweet voice crying out softly in need. Now I definitely wanted to know what she was dreaming about. A high pitched soft moan and sharp gasp passed from her lips, causing my heart to skip and a twitch in my pants. It was absolutely inappropriate to think about but as my eyes wandered over her face, they landed on her lips. I wanted to kiss them. They looked so soft and warm and smooth. I could feel my face frowning, upset that I wasn’t the one making her sound this way. After a while, she quieted down but my thoughts did not. I wanted to dig my fingers into her wild blonde tresses, have her long long legs wrapped around my waist. I wanted her. The real her. Not the one she shows me at work. Even though I realized at that point that I barely knew who she was to begin with. I could only hope that would change throughout the weekend.

Eventually I found myself falling asleep. Not for long though. The stewardess ended up coming to wake me 15 minutes before we landed. When I opened my eyes, she gave me a kind smile. I looked out of the window next to me, blinking myself awake rather slowly as I admired the sunrise and the aerial view of Rome. In my opinion, it wasn’t such a bad thing to wake up to. I yawned and sat up in my seat, stretching my back, cracking my neck. She patted my shoulder in a motherly fashion and disappeared into the back of the plane again. I stood up, brushing the random strands of hair off of my face and sat on the couch next to my sleeping assistant. I yawned again, running my hand down her shoulder, shaking her awake gently as I whispered her name. Her eyes fluttered open and immediately her face turned a bright red. She jumped a little, startled by seeing me and I held my hands up in defense.

“It’s just me!” I said softly with a smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She blinked at me a couple times as she sat up, my jacket falling off of her as she did. “We’re about to land and I, uh…. figured you might wanna see the sky view.” I told her, raising the blind that covered the small window near her head, pointing at the view. She turned around and the look on her face was priceless. She brought her fingers to her lips, concealing the wide grin that spread across her lips and gasped in wonder. The sunlight seemed to make her eyes shine a bit brighter than normal and I tore my gaze away to enjoy the view with her. It was a fantastic sight.

“This is amazing…” she said in awe.

“Wait til we actually get into the city.” I said, standing as I began to gather up my things to put them into my briefcase. She scooted to the edge of her seat and threw her arms in the air, stretching out her long limbs and I tried my damnedest not to look. She picked up her heels and put them back on her feet before leaning into the couch. I could feel her eyes on me as I got my things together. I looked up with a chuckle as her eyes narrowed.

“Did you finish what you needed to do?” She asked me.

“Uh… yeah.” I lied all too easily, sitting back in my recliner. The way she twirled a lock of hair around her finger told me that she didn’t believe a word.

“And did you get any sleep?” She asked. I forced a puff of air and ran my hand down my face tiredly.

“Actually, yes. More sleep than I would at home if you can believe it.”

“I don’t but okay.” She smirked. That time I was actually telling the truth. Normally I’d get maybe 2 or 3 hours in before I had to go to work. This time I got maybe 5. I could really feel the difference. If it were up to me though, I wouldn’t have gotten up at all. “You’re taking another nap before we go anywhere.” She told me boldly. I laughed. At least she cared enough.

“I think you missed the part where I’m your boss and I tell you what to do.” I said. But like a nagging wife, she was right. I could’ve used an hour or two more. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll both take some time to wind down before lunch.”

“What are we having?!” She damn near jumped out of her seat.

“I’m feeling like pasta.” I hummed. “With an excessive amount of Parmesan.”

When we landed at the hangar, we were greeted by a shiny black car, ready to take us to where we’d be staying. I booked a villa for us instead of a hotel. I figured it’d be quieter and not to mention there was a killer view from every balcony and patio. It was a nice 75 degrees out that morning. The wind pushed against us as we descended the stairs. The driver greeted us with a smile and opened the door for us before retrieving our bags. Lyric slid into the car and rubbed her eyes before groaning loudly.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I forgot I had makeup on… I probably look a mess now.” She grumbled.

“I don’t think so. You look good.” I told her truthfully. She stared at me as a blush tinted her cheeks.

“Thank you?” She wasn’t sure what to make of that. The fault being my own, I didn’t compliment her much. That was something that could change. The car began to drive us through the city and into the country just on the outskirts. A massive change from the big city buildings turning into rolling hills of green, some plots of land with small houses nearby. Everything looked so fresh and alive. A stark comparison to the area of New York we’d just come from. The skies were now blue and the clouds were perfectly fluffy.

It wasn’t long before we pulled into a long winding driveway, each side lined with well kept bushes of flowers. We pulled up to a two story beautifully stone built house, parts of it tastefully covered with vines and tall trees stood at its corners. There was a lovely little patio outside from what I could see. I could hear Lyric gasping as the car came to a stop. “No way we’re staying here….”

“Well I don’t feel like staying at a hotel so yes. We are.” I told her as the driver got out and opened my door. I then rounded the car and opened the door for her. Her eyes widened as she stepped out and looked around. The first thing she did was take her shoes off to walk in the soft plush grass out front. The grin on her face was something magical. I stood there a while and watched her wiggle her toes in the earth and my chest began to swell with adoration. She giggled and covered up her smile with her hands before looking at me.

“So… I can go inside there?” She asked rather childishly. I forced a laugh and nodded, shoving my hands in my pocket. She practically bolted into the house, throwing the doors open.

“And she’s off...” I chuckled as the driver began to grab our bags. I could hear her squealing from the upstairs.

“Holy shit!” I heard her swear and I burst into laughter. The house was pretty nice. Clean above all things, which I loved. The living space was open and looked cozy. The flooring was a pale hardwood and the walls, a detailed off white. Bricks molded the rounded archways and there was a fireplace as well. That bit I got excited about. I walked around, letting my fingertips grace the backs of the white couches and chairs, over the sea foam green colored pillows. That’s when my eyes landed on a massive, dark wood baby grand piano. Tucked in a corner was a beautiful Spanish guitar. ‘She’ll get a kick out of that…’ I thought as I pressed a few keys on the piano with a smirk. The driver placed our bags by the door and I paid him a generous tip, thanking him as he left us. I closed the double doors and sighed. It was going to be a long weekend.

Suddenly, Lyric appeared at the top of the stairs. “Did you see the piano?!” She exclaimed excitedly. I nodded.

“Yeah I did.” My heart was pounding from the beauty of her broad grin. “Did you see the guitar?” I asked.

“I MISSED A GUITAR?!” She began flying down the stairs to the corner I pointed at. She picked it up and her eyes seemed to light up.

“Do you play?” I asked feigning ignorance. Of course she played. You can’t be the lead singer of a band and not play.

“I play a little.” She answered coyly. I smirked.

“You’ll have to play for me some time.” I said, resting my jacket on the back of the couch and taking off my neck tie.

“You’ll have to get me really drunk. I get shy at small audiences.” She mumbled, running her thumb down the untuned strings of the instrument. The words just fell from my lips without thinking.

“You never have to be shy with me.” I said. She looked up and bit her lip nervously before setting the guitar back down. I tore my gaze from her to look down the hall. I could see the corner of a refrigerator. “Have you checked out the kitchen yet?” I asked. She shook her head no. “After you…” I gestured down the hall, stepping away to make room for her. She sauntered by and shuffled into the kitchen, me strolling behind her.

As we stopped at the bricked threshold of the kitchen, Lyric gasped. Turning around, she had the goofiest expression and let out a silent, whispery scream. I was impressed. The cabinets were all white and the countertops were a sandy granite. There was an island with a few stools and a massive refrigerator, complete with a wine cooler, stocked with the finest Italian wine. She gave an exaggerated gasp as she opened up the wine cooler and pulled a bottle of red. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“This kitchen…. I have to cook in this kitchen!” She exclaimed with an excited laugh. “Oh my god and look!” She said pointing to a massive rounded archway with double doors that led to the back. There were pillars wrapped in the greenest vines and on the bricked patio, a couple of dark arm chairs with white cushions, a coffee table was set in the middle of them decorated with a few candles and an ashtray. Along the outside wall were a few torches that could be lit on fire. Behind it was a set of bricked stairs, lined with small candles, that led into a grassy area. There was a small, rounded table near the edge where there was a magnificent view of the Italian countryside. I followed Lyric down the steps and we both stood by the edge of the grassy platform to stare at the sun still rising in the sky over the rolling hills. Further around the corner, was a decently sized pool and a hot tub. In an instant I began to think of all the things we could do. This was an unintentionally romantic place to be. If I had to be there with anyone though, I was glad it was her.

“Mr. Adler…. Thank you for taking me….” She sighed in awe, hugging the red wine bottle against her chest.

“Don’t thank me. Your research brought us here. You should enjoy it.” I said, leaning into the archway.

“No, Mr. Adler you don’t get it…. This is so much space… I…”

“If it’s what you wanna hear: you’re welcome.” I smiled. With that, I clapped my hands together and smiled. “Now. Since you’ve seen the upstairs before me, have you picked a room?” She turned to look at me with a puzzled expression.

“I was just gonna take the one you didn’t want… I mean I’m not picky.”

“Oh, please. Don’t women need their space to do…. woman things?”

“Yeah but you’re also my boss.” She told me. I stared at her a moment. Even away from the office, she tried her best to be a good employee.

“Such manners.” I mumbled. “Alright. I’ll go take a look and I’ll holler when I make a decision.”

It didn’t take long for me to choose. Both rooms were big and clean with their own bathrooms, both had nice TVs, both came with a massive window for a fantastic view of the countryside, both had decent closet and drawer space. The only difference was one had a vanity complete with a mirror and the other did not. I sighed, imagining Lyric sitting there, putting on her makeup or doing whatever it was she did to make her skin glow the way it did. I walked back down the stairs to grab my bag and took them to my room. Then I grabbed hers and laid them on the loveseat in front of her bed. Decisions made. “Lyric, I put your stuff in your room for you!” I hollered down the steps. I could hear the small pitter patter of her bare feet on the hardwood as she approached. Not wanting to swoon more than I already had, I grunted from behind my bedroom door.

“Are you sure that’s the one you want?” She asked me. I just nodded.

“I’m sure. Listen, you were right. I’m still a little tired so I’m gonna shower and take a few more hours.” I told her.

“Okay! Well… I’ll work on getting us a car and maybe do some grocery shopping.” She smiled.

“Alright. Be careful walking around by yourself. If you need me, you have my number.”

“Of course, sir—”

“You can drop the formalities, Lyric. We’re not at the office.” I assured her. I wanted her to be comfortable. Here and around me. I could tell it baffled her a bit by the way her mouth hung open. I smiled at her a moment and took off my neck tie. “Go do what you need to do.” I told her before closing my door. I pressed my back against the door and groaned. Behaving around her was certainly going to be difficult. Especially with her just being so cute. And then there was hearing her on the plane. Those moans weren’t something I could easily forget. Shaking off the nerves, I began to unpack and ready myself for a nice long shower.

#rafe adler x oc #rafe adler x reader #rafe adler #uncharted #uncharted 4 #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted x reader #uncharted smut #uncharted 4 a thief's end #uncharted fanfic #uncharted fanfiction #uncharted imagine #rafe adler headcanons #uncharted headcanons #poc #poc ocs #poc oc #uncharted oc #ao3 author

[thadelightfulone]

The Firm - Chapter 14

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. Will Erik and LaNyah finally talk? 

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

--- One Week Later ---

Since LaNyah has a late afternoon meeting with Stacey, she chose to go into work later than usual. A perk she decided to take advantage of since all her bosses wanted her at her best. She treated herself to a long and leisurely breakfast before going into the office.

LaNyah is offered a seat by the window, overlooking one of the many man-made lakes throughout the city. Before she sits, she changes her mind and requests a table outside. The waiter takes her out to one near the railing, as the wind blows through her skirt. Perfect. She nods at him as he sets her menu down and takes her drink order.

While sipping on her cranberry juice, she looks around her. It is a lovely and kool morning, and the weather should only reach the early 70s today. The sunlight is slowly rising into the sky, and she smiles. Already have placed her order, Nyah listens to the sounds around her. Parents asking their small children what they want to eat, the little excited voices asking for pancakes or juice. The wind blowing around, causing tiny ripples on the nearby lake.

Another waitress arrives with her Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream and side of bacon. She quietly squeals to herself, dancing in her seat as the waitress leaves to bring back a refill on her water. LaNyah digs in, dragging bacon through syrup and humming along with the soft music playing from the speakers above her.  

Breakfast finished, LaNyah sets her utensils down and leans back in her seat. She takes a few moments to close her eyes and some deep breaths. She looks at her watch and jumps up. She needs to leave now since she has another stop to make before going in to work.

Parking in the garage, LaNyah texts Stacey that she has something for her. She grabs her purse, tote, and lunch bags, with everything she will need for the day out of the back seat. She goes to her passenger side and picks up a pink box, before locking her car and heading for the lobby.

Riding the elevator to the 31st floor, she walks towards her office. She starts laughing upon noticing her visitor as she turns the corner. She shakes her head and hands her keys over to Stacey, who unlocks and enters before her. LaNyah takes her time, putting everything away in its rightful place before turning to grabby hands coming from her guest chair.

"Stace?” She gives her the pink box. Stacey rips off the top of the box, inhaling the pleasant scent of blueberry, cherry, and cinnamon.  

“OMG,” she looks inside of the box, “All three? Nyah, are you trying to butter me up?” Stacey immediately reaches for the cherry Danish.

Sitting down behind her desk, LaNyah smiles while watching as Stacey moans around the freshly baked treat. “Not at all.”

Licking her fingers, “So, what’s with the bribery?” Stacey sets the box down and takes the napkin Nyah is holding out to her. Wiping her fingers, “You do not just do things. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Stacey eyes her, “Really. I just woke up in a good mood today. The late arrival allowed me just to enjoy the morning and take some time for me.”

"You know Green would still let you take more time off if you need it."

"Not like that, Stacey." LaNyah pauses as she searches for the words, "You know, like when there is a temporary change to your daily schedule.” Stacey nods at her, “Well, I used to not enjoy that. It always made me feel out of control. But today, it felt like exactly what I needed. Just some time to take in the morning since I am usually in the office as the sun breaks through the sky.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s like when you have a weekday off from work. You get to see what you would normally miss at that time because you are working. It’s always nice to get a glimpse of that.”

“Exactly. I have never taken the time to do that. Even when I was off, I focused more on finding my way back to my routine.” Stacey nods before standing

“Well, I am glad to hear you had such a wonderful morning.” She picks up the box from Nyah’s desk, “I’ll see you this afternoon at the meeting.”

“Late lunch?”

“Nah, I can’t. What about dinner?” Stacey asks while opening the door.

“Sure, I’ll be ending the day with you anyway.” LaNyah waves to Stacey as she walks out while waiting for her computer to turn on. Stacey stands outside the door, looking in the window as LaNyah starts working. She turns on her heels, hoping that her boss and his wife know what they are doing.

---

Picking up the file folder from the passenger seat, Erik locks his rental. He decided to park on the executive level of the parking lot since he had a flight to catch after this. He was headed back home, and this allowed for a quick getaway. The embezzlement case for Alex wrapped up two weeks ago. He had other matters to attend to, and other people needed his help. It was time for him to leave Cali and move on. There is nothing more here for him, and no reason for him to extend his stay. The only thing Erik needed to do was send Alex the report. Which brings him to this moment, Alex wanted him to deliver it personally.

He approaches the building from the elevator, entering the code Stacey gave him for the private entrance. Erik went back and forth with Alex over the phone Friday night. His original flight was scheduled for the previous Saturday, and here it is Wednesday afternoon. Alex couldn’t see him any earlier and brought up Ashley wanting to apologize for upsetting him at dinner. Erik tried not to laugh at the man; he knew they just wanted to see him one more time in case they never saw him ever again. He couldn't blame them; he wasn't sure there was ever going to be another reason for him to return to California. Besides, if Ashley wants to apologize for souring the mood at the table, he definitely wanted to hear this face to face.

Hitting the button for the 35th floor, he stopped quickly and hit the button for the lobby. Two stories later, he stepped out and took in the familiar surroundings as the doors opened up. While standing in front of the building directory, a memory flashed before him as he saw two women running for the open car. Erik closes his eyes, thinking about the first time he saw LaNyah. Flustered and late for work, she never once looked up at him. Super focused on collecting her papers and waiting for the next elevator to arrive. It wasn't until she was getting out of the elevator that he finally got a chance to look at her when she spoke her first words to him —an apology for running him down.  

Erik hears the ding for a nearby elevator car and looks down at his watch. He pushes the button and walks over as the doors open back up. He presses the 35, moves back, and stands with the folder in front of him as the car fills up. All the stops will give him time to relax and get LaNyah off his mind. He just needs Ashley and Alex to understand that he was here for a job. He did it, and now it is time for him to go even if that means burying his feelings.  

He arrives on the floor, and it’s about 3:50pm, and he knows that he is early for his scheduled meeting with Alex and Ashley. But he doesn’t want to drag this out any longer. The plan is to have one last conversation with them, hand over the file, and take his leave. He can be in his own bed tonight. Erik walks over to Stacey, who didn't look up from her computer when the elevator arrived.

He taps on her countertop, startling her, "Hey Stacey, is Alex ready?" Stacey removes the headset from her ears.

“Sorry, working on a training.” She looks over at Alex’s office and notices that he is on the phone. “Not yet, it looks like he is still on the phone. Why don’t you wait in the conference room? Ashley will be here soon, too.”

Sighing, Erik nods at her and walks into the conference room. He sets the folder down where he plans to sit and continues over to the windows. Erik stands in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, hands behind his back as he waits for Alex and Ashley to come into the room. It'll be the last time that he gets to enjoy this view overlooking downtown Irvine. Even though it is mainly buildings at eye-level, he can see a few residential areas and parks a few streets over. He takes a few deep breaths as his mind starts to wonder.

---

LaNyah cannot wait for the elevator. She is already running late for this meeting with Stacey. She decides to take the stairs instead of walking across the department floor to wait for the elevator. She locks up her office with her notebook and a few pens in her hands. Turning left outside of her office, she opens the doors to the center stairs. She is unsure where these will open on the 35th floor, but she takes the time to think over what Stacey told her about this meeting.

Mr. Green wants to meet with both of them to discuss her future in the accounting department. LaNyah is not too nervous; he probably just wants her input on who he should get to oversee it. She knows Stacey would be the perfect choice for the position, but she knows that Mr. Green would rather keep her as his assistant. So, who knows what he is thinking about the situation.

She makes it to the door for the 35th floor and takes a deep breath. She opens it to see that she is across from Stacey's desk. Great. When the door closes behind her, she starts to walk past Mr. Green’s office when Stacey looks up at her and rushes across to her.

"Hey Nyah, I thought you were coming from the elevator," Stacey exclaims, shielding her view into the conference room. Her appearance from this side means she has to walk across the floor.

"I was running a bit late and decided to take the stairs." She stops for a moment to catch her breath. "Give me a minute." She looks down at her watch, 4:05pm. She is late. Damn.

“You’re fine. Mr. Green’s last meeting call ran over; he’s preparing to move into the conference room now. Go ahead and meet him in there, I’m on my way over.”

"Thanks, Stacey. See you inside." LaNyah walks over and notices Mr. Green's office is empty. She sees a man already standing with his back to her near the windows when she enters the conference room. She doesn't think anything of it and begins to set her things down. "Hey Mr. Green."

Erik tenses up as LaNyah’s voice reaches him from across the room. It can’t be. Why is she here? He slowly turns around and walks over to the table. She gasps and throws her hands over her mouth as he approaches the table. She takes in the neatly tailored navy suit, broad shoulders, and braided back dreads.

“Erik?” LaNyah whispers out in shock. He is standing across the room, with his hands in his pants pockets. He looks much more professional than the last time she saw him. No military fatigues covered in blood but as the businessman that she was initially met. He looks just like he did the day she met him. The day she figured out that she was attracted to him. But there is a look of surprise on his face.

He nods her way and opens his mouth, but no words come out as he looks her over. She is in a purple blouse with navy blue pants. Her light brown curls are down and framing her face. He watches as LaNyah rapidly blinks to make sure her eyes are not deceiving her, her wide eyes behind a matching purple set of glasses in a stunned expression.

“Wh- what are you doing here?” She timidly asks. And right when he is about to answer, he looks behind her and groans. All three instigators are standing at the door.

“You should ask them?” He points behind her and follows as she looks back at Alex and Stacey. Ashley is behind them and steps forward.

“We think you two should talk.” Ashley pronounces, and Erik scoffs from his end of the table. He opens his suit jacket and takes his seat at the table. LaNyah has not turned back towards him; she is stuck looking at her boss and friends.

“I- I don’t understand. What is going on?” LaNyah has a death grip on one of her pens. It suddenly snaps in her hand —the sound echoing through the quiet of the room.  

Alex speaks up, "It is as Ashley said. We just think that the two of you should have an open and honest conversation with each other." He looks over at Erik. If looks could kill, he knows he would be a goner. But it was the only way they could think to get them together.

LaNyah looks them all over, Mr. Green and Ashley do not look ashamed of their actions. But she shakes her head as she gets to Stacey, who is looking anywhere but at her. Wow, so she knew this morning and didn’t say anything at all. Without a word, Nyah drops down into the seat in front of her. It is conveniently all the way across the room from Erik. They will have to project to hear one another. So what, she doesn't care.

Ashley grabs Alex’s hand and taps Stacey’s shoulder as they make their way out of the conference room.

LaNyah’s hands are in her lap, playing with the belt tie on her blouse. Erik watches her for a few moments. What is he supposed to say to her? She hasn’t even looked up at him since she sat down. He closes his eyes and runs his hands over his dreads. He never thought they would blindside the both of them, just to get them in the same room. He opens his eyes and discovers she is still staring a hole through the table.  

“Uh, hi LaNyah.” He starts, “How have you been?” She quickly glances up at him then drops her eyes again. “You look good. Real good.” Erik can see her mouth curve up and then just as fast straighten out into a tight line. "How have you been? You know, since we last saw each other." He tries again, but there is no reaction from her now.

LaNyah follows her fingers as they move along the peplum edges of the blouse. He is here and for her, but why. She continues to hold her head down even as he tries to talk to her. She knows he is trying, but she doesn't know how to feel right now. How is it that she is both relaxed and scared at the same time? Her eyes glaze over, and she starts sniffling. She doesn't know when it happened, but hot tears land on her hands. Her breathing is calm, but Nyah can't help the little sounds she makes as she silently cries.

He hears LaNyah’s quiet sobbing and watches as she pulls her glasses off to wipe at her eyes. She is crying, and it's all because she is not comfortable with the situation, and with him. He figured she wasn't ready, and now he doubts if she ever will be. Erik knows he needs to let her go. There is no more significant sign than what he is witnessing.

Erik gets up and walks out of the conference room, making his way to the coffee machine. He waits as the water heats up and pulls down a mug. Looking over the choices, he grabs lavender and chamomile tea putting it into the machine as Stacey taught him. As Erik observes LaNyah replacing her glasses on her face, he gathers all the other things that he needs. Some honey packets, a spoon, and a few napkins.

The machine chimes letting him know the tea is ready. He collects all the items and brings them into the room. He walks over to LaNyah, and standing off to her side; he places them all next to her. Erik walks over to where he was sitting and grabs the report from the table. He walks to the inner door leading to Alex's office and puts the folder on his desk.

He looks around the office before walking to the elevator. While he waits for the elevator, he turns back to LaNyah in the big conference room. She was drinking from the mug, which makes him smile a bit. As the bell of the elevator's arrival chimes, she looks up in his direction. "Sorry, I'm not the man you wish I was," Erik speaks low, unaware that LaNyah could hear him.

---

“How do you think things are going?” Stacey asks Alex and Ashley. It’s been about 20 mins since they left Erik and LaNyah upstairs together.

“Only one way to find out,” Ashley replies as they all get off the elevator to the 35th floor. Looking through the windows, they all notice LaNyah standing in front of the windows, staring out with a mug in her hands. Ashley rushes forward into the conference room first. “What happened?”

LaNyah slowly turns around, her eyes puffy and red from her tears. She sets the mug down on the table and takes a tissue from the box; she blows her nose and walks towards them. “You want to know what happened?” They all nod their heads in unison. “Nothing. Absolutely, nothing.”

“Where’s Erik?” Alex asks, and LaNyah shrugs her shoulders. “He just left you here? Did he say anything before he left?”

LaNyah stops right in front of the trio, shaking her head. Her small hands curling into fists beside her as she looks at them. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Her chest is heaving as they all return blank stares in her direction.

“LaNyah, what are you talking about?” Stacey speaks first.

“I WASN’T READY!!!” She stomps her feet on the carpeted floor. “I wasn’t, I wasn’t ready. And you all knew that.” She points her finger at them accusingly. “But you knew that and tried to force the issue anyway. And you!” She turns to Stacey, “Why didn’t you say something to me?” Stacey can no longer hold Nyah’s stare and looks away.

“We just wanted you two to talk; you know after everything.”

“There is something you should know.”

“We didn’t mean to push so hard.”

“No, you don’t get to try and explain yourselves after the fact.” She moves away and sits down, picking up her mug of tea. Drinking it, she smiles through her anger. She waves to the chairs near them; they all move over and take seats across from her.  

Nyah tells them about Erik trying to start the conversation and her being non-responsive. How she started quietly crying and him hearing it from across the table. He got up and made her a cup of tea, even included anything she might want. She takes another sip while discussing his thoughtfulness. She tells Alex he left something in his office and then headed for the elevator, finally leaving. "He mumbled an apology for not being the man I wanted him to be or something like that."

“Oh Nyah,” Stacey exclaims, “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be mad at her, Nyah.” Ashley speaks up, “I talked these two into it. And you know how forceful I can be. They only did it for me.”

“Stop. Just stop talking.” LaNyah stands up and starts pacing near the windows. “I-” she takes a deep breath, “I, I haven’t been completely honest with you. And I think that came out today.” She plays with her fingers while looking out over the city.

“It’s ok, sweetheart, but what is going on?" Alex gently asks.

“Well, I have been having nightmares about the kidnapping.” They all share a knowing look. Ashley explained it would be a normal response for someone like her. This was the reason she was happy about her keeping a new journal for the incident. "Erik saves me from Gina every single time." LaNyah turns towards them, "It doesn't matter where I am or how I got there. He always comes to my rescue."

Ashley and Stacey smile at this confession. She didn’t hate him, and she probably wasn't even mad at him anymore. She just didn’t know how to deal with her growing feelings for him. Ashley stands up and walks over to LaNyah. “That was Alex for me. He has always been my greatest protector.” She looks over at him, her love shining through her gaze.

“Yeah? So, even when you aren’t talking to him because maybe you are mad about something. You still feel safe in his presence?” LaNyah questions.

"Always. I may be mad at him, but that doesn't mean Alex will stop protecting me or making me feel safe whenever he is around. That doesn't go away."

“LaNyah, how did you feel with Erik just now?” Stacey asks.

“It was the safest I have felt since you all rescued me from Gina," LaNyah admits. She looks at Ashley, who is standing next to her, "Can I ask you something?"

“Sure anything.” Ashley sits down, “Why don’t we have a seat?”

Nyah sits next to her. She looks at Mr. Green and then back to Ashley, “Was Gina telling the truth? You know about the assault and Erik killing her brother.”

Ashley closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, "Yes, she was." She takes LaNyah's hands, "Remember when we first met, and I told you I had my own story." Nyah nods. "I was going to tell you when we found out Gina was involved with the embezzlement, but that was the same day Erik discovered that you were missing."

Ashley tells LaNyah about Alex and Erik watching over her from day one when they were first assigned to McCoy's team. She explained her history with him and how she was grateful that they took to her like they did because she felt safer with her brothers in arms around. When they found her after McCoy sexually assaulted her, the two of them did their own investigation into his background and knew he was guilty. While she was recovering back home, she found out that he was killed during an ambush.  

Alex chimes in and tells Nyah that he actually found Erik right after he killed their commanding officer and helped him cover it up. He had stayed in touch with Ashley even after the team was separated and sent home. Eventually, telling Ashley what she already knew, that Erik killed him for her. Alex walks over to LaNyah and sits on the other side of her.

“I didn’t hire Erik to work with you, LaNyah. I hired Erik to protect you from whatever we all uncovered during the investigation.” He tells her that he knew someone was stealing from him long before she discovered it and brought it to him, and he knew they were trying to pin it on her. He was too close and needed someone completely outside to keep her safe while he continued his investigation.

“Oh, so he was my bodyguard?” She giggles at that.

"Well, he prefers personal security, but yeah, he was." Alex laughingly replies.

“Is.” Stacey tries not to laugh at Ashley’s interjection.

"Wow. So, all of Erik's actions were him taking care of me and keeping me out of harm's way."

Everyone nods at LaNyah while she sits in thought.

---

Erik exited the front doors of the building instead of heading to the parking garage. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. But he needed to get out of there. He closes his eyes as the afternoon sun shines on his face. He decides to take a stroll down the main street to get a little fresh air.

While making his way into the more residential area of the city, his mind drifts to LaNyah. The reason that he is running. When he met her a few months ago, he just thought she was cute, and that would be the end of that, especially after Green explained her connection to him and his real purpose for being there. It was easy for him to lock her in a Do Not Touch box and never overstep those boundaries. But he never expected to fall for her.

LaNyah wasn't the only person shocked by what happened this afternoon. Erik was just dropping off the report and saying his final goodbyes. He didn't plan to say anything about leaving since LaNyah hadn't spoken to him unless it was work-related for a while now anyway. Why should it be different now, even if he did lead the effort to rescue and save her from Gina? It was all a part of his job. He chuckles to himself.

Erik figured he would be back home, back at work, and could put LaNyah back in her original place in his mind – Do Not Engage. But seeing her again after everything that happened. He wasn't ready for any of that. He runs his hands over his face, it had only been a few weeks, but she looked really good. Well-rested and back to her old self again. He meant what he said to her. But he didn't know what else to say to her. If he wasn't expecting her, then there is one thing he is sure of, that she definitely wasn't ready to deal with him either.

Yet being there together, in a room that they have both spent a lot of time in, he could think of nothing else but her. Something about being near her—the best way to describe it was the energy that she carried into a room; it was dazzling and always seemed to put him at ease. He could have stayed there in comfortable silence, and it would not have bothered him because he was near her. The only thing that changed that was hearing her in distress. It reminded him of everything that she had been through recently.

The last time she saw him, he was covered in blood, and he was someone who hadn’t surfaced in years. He was not the Erik she grew to know even if she was mad at him for being unnecessarily callous during the investigation. She did not know the man who showed up to rescue her a month ago. And he never wanted her to know him like that.

Erik has no idea what altogether Gina told Nyah about him and what he had done as Killmonger. He knows what he heard and saw when he was in that basement. What he does know is the looked that has haunted him for weeks. LaNyah's deer in headlights expression as they rush forward guns trained on Gina and, by extension, her. The way she flinched whenever he came near her.

He shakes those thoughts from his head. Erik stops in front of a sidewalk bench surrounded by trees marking the entrance of a park. He takes off his suit jacket and lays it behind him before taking a seat to watch the cars drive by. LaNyah was still afraid of him, and he couldn't blame her for not wanting to be in the same space as him. He never wanted that for her, but he doesn't regret his actions for one moment. If only, he had the opportunity to explain what he did for Ashley all those years ago.

Erik is good at a lot of things, but caring for someone while protecting them is not one. It is foreign territory to him. It has always been so straight forward. When someone hires him for protection, he cares about making sure he keeps the person safe per the contract. It was all good when Green told him that she was the favor – he wanted him as her personal protection/security. That was something he could handle; it left her off-limits. But for some reason, he never found his footing during this case to keep things separated.

She found a way into his heart just like Ashley did, but in a way that only Green understands. Cute, jumpy, and innocent LaNyah Cole captured the affections of cold-hearted Erik Stevens. He found her beautiful immediately, even with their first interaction in the lobby. Then he got to know her, and all he could think about was keeping her out of harm's way. Never letting anything happen to her and not just for work but for however long she needed it. He watched her try new foods, build a friendship with Stacey, her growth as an individual during Ashley’s absence – finding strength in herself.

He knew the moment he fucked up in her eyes, but he couldn't take it back, and she wouldn't talk to him long enough for him to apologize. But what could he really say, I like you, but you are a job and I shouldn’t. So, I am doing this the only way I know how; I need you to hate me. And yeah, I know you like me too. Erik slaps his thighs, “IDIOT!” He chastises himself.

If only he had found the courage to tell her how he was feeling, he could have been there like he was supposed to and prevented her from being kidnapped. Instead, Erik came clean to everyone else only to find out Gina already had her. The first job he ever fucked up, and it would be because he couldn't deal with his own damn feelings about his charge. This was why he had to leave and forget all about LaNyah.

---

Suddenly, LaNyah’s eyes go wide as she looks between Alex and Ashley. She stands up from her seat and walks over to the windows. She stares out of them before looking back to the trio. Fiddling with her hands, she asks, “How much does he know about what happened to me?”

They all exchange looks and silently choose the one who will answer that loaded question. Alex looks at LaNyah, “He completed a background check on you.”

"So, he knows about the incident that brought me to Ashley's care, too?" Ashley sadly looks at LaNyah, confirming her worst fears. She blinks away the tears, "Of course, he does."

“What do you mean by that, sweetie?” Ashley looks up at her.

LaNyah walks towards the door, and everyone follows her. “I need some air.”

“Nyah?”

“I’m ok. I just need to think outside of this space.” She hits the elevator button, “I promise I’ll be back. I just need to be alone right now.” She quietly waves at them as the doors close.

“Does it sound like they just switched positions?” Ashley asks.

"What?" Alex looks at her, confused while Stacey moves towards her desk.

"Yes, yes, they did," Stacey responds to Ashley's question, turning towards them. "Erik is gonna continue to avoid LaNyah, and she is now afraid that someone will not want her if they know her history."  

“So, we made it worst rather than making it better.” Alex states. The ladies nod at him.

LaNyah makes it to the lobby of the building and decides to take a walk. Her autopilot leads to her favorite park a few blocks away. She didn't think she was walking that fast, but she made it in record time. She usually sits at one of the tables to eat her lunch or read. But once in a while, she comes for the swings. Today was definitely a swing day, and no one is over there, so she walks over and sits on one.

Placing her hands on each chain, she slowly pushes off, pumping her legs a few times to get some height. LaNyah just swings back and forth, steadily climbing higher in the air. As she feels the breeze against her face, she feels herself calming down. She swings and enjoys the quiet surrounding her. Since it's late in the afternoon, there is no one around, and she has the little park all to herself. As she inhales, she swings back and swings forward on her exhales. She keeps this up for a few minutes before crossing her legs and turning the swing side to side.

As she changes direction, her mind goes back to what Alex said to her. Erik was hired as her bodyguard. She laughs, thinking about how horrible a job he did on that part.  But then again, Nyah wasn't talking to him when it happened although he had been trying to apologize. Who knows how things may have gone if she just spoke to him instead of running away and letting her anger control her response to him.

She knows there is more to her reaction than just being angry about his accusations. I like him. I have always liked him. That’s why it hurt so much. LaNyah had never actually liked someone before, and this was new for her. She was never truly angry at him, but mainly disappointed in how he turned on her.

It didn’t make any sense though, Mr. Green made it clear to him that LaNyah was not involved, and Erik said he believed her. So, for him to do what he did even if he didn’t know about the crush, really bothered her. Maybe more than it should have. The betrayal she felt at that moment, she knows it was ok to feel that way. He caused that, but he had been trying to do right by her ever since. Almost like he knew he fucked up somehow and wanted to make things right.

She stops twisting on the swing, and to now find out he knows about everything that she has been through. LaNyah focuses on the ground below her. But Erik never once treated her like she was fragile, unlike Mr. Green, who was getting better about that. He just didn’t act like anyone she knew, and along with Stacey became someone she trusted. Nyah always enjoyed being around him even if it was for work. She giggles as she drags her feet along the ground. Yes, even when she was not talking to him, she wanted to be around him.

Erik was always a place of comfort for her. And honestly, he still is. LaNyah had no idea how much until she was in the same space as him this afternoon. She made herself scarce for weeks just to avoid running into him. But for what? Ashley’s right. He is still acting as her protector.

When he noticed that she was not gonna talk to him and was clearly uncomfortable, he made sure she was ok before he left. He is still taking care of her, even though his job was over. She flattens her feet at that thought. Why did he leave like that? And what did he mean before he got on the elevator? “I have to talk to him.”

LaNyah stood up from the swing and looked up towards the sky. The sun was setting, and she could see the beautiful swirls of orange, pink, and purple along the skyline. She exits the park and walks along the main street back to GBI. Stacey is probably waiting for her since they were supposed to do dinner tonight. "I bet Erik is on his way back home. I scared him away."

She walks past another of her outside spots. It is the same lake from this morning, in the middle of a section of houses. Sometimes, she stares out into the water, which was moving due to the air around them. She senses something around her and slows down to take in her surroundings. Looking around, she spots some business guy walking down the street far from her. LaNyah turns back around, satisfied that it is just someone else taking a late afternoon stroll.

---

Erik notices the sun setting. He looked at his watch; he had been sitting on that bench and watching cars for over 20 minutes. He stands up, grabbing his jacket to put back on, and stretching his limbs out. He needs to go back to GBI and figure out his plans for the evening. It's time for him to leave California finally. His phone has been on silent, and he forgot to send a message to the pilot. "Damn," He checks his voicemails while walking back towards the building.  

Standing at a streetlight waiting for his turn to walk across, Erik looks up, noticing he is about three streets away from the building. The pilot just told him that he could pick him up in the morning because he took another ride when he didn't hear from Erik by their scheduled time. He makes another call to see if he can go back to the condo for the night when something sparkled across from him. He looks up the street towards a lake in the middle of the houses.

The lamps on the walkways on either side of the lake are what caught his attention. They were casting shadows on the rippling water. As he continued walking, he saw someone walking along the same main street as him just on that side. The woman looks like she is dressed in business attire like him. She stops at the crosswalk, and Erik can just make out her features in the low light of the overhead street lamp. Glasses and curls, it can’t be?

He runs to the lights on his side, catching them in time to run across the street towards her. "LaNyah!"

Nyah looks around when she hears her name, stepping back from the edge as she notices Erik running towards her. He must have been the guy across the street. She smiles at him as he slows down and steps up onto the sidewalk with her.

Erik looks down at her as she continues to smile up at him. A genuine smile towards him -- the same smile that captivated him from the beginning. He can't help but smile back at her. He was about to ask her what she was doing out.

“Can we talk?” LaNyah blurts out now that he is right in front of her.

“Uh yeah. Yeah, we can.” He sputters out. Before he can ask where they should go, LaNyah turns around and walks off. She looks back at Erik, waving for him to follow her.

They fall into step together as LaNyah leads him to a bridge near the lake that they both passed. Walking onto the bridge, it leads to a gazebo with a couple sets of benches around. They are alone at this of day. He follows LaNyah to the railing, where they stand in complete silence for a few moments looking out at the water.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” They both speak at the same time and then look at one another.

“What are you apologizing for?” Erik asks LaNyah.

“Why are you?” She responds. They both laugh uncomfortably. Erik nods to her, letting her lead the conversation. “I’m sorry for how I have been treating you since the interrogation. I had every right to feel that way at that moment. But I dragged it out a lot longer for reasons." LaNyah starts playing with her hands before looking back at Erik. "I know now that you were just doing your job, protecting me."

Erik closes his eyes at that, “So, you know why Alex really hired me?”

"Yes, and I appreciate you shielding me from all that you did. I just didn't understand it, and I have been making you pay for it. And for that, I am sorry."

“You have nothing to apologize for, and I should have told you about that. But I didn’t want you to worry any more than you already were about what was happening at GBI. And it was going well until the interrogation,” Erik shakes his head looking down.

LaNyah grabs his arm, “It’s ok, Erik, I understand now, and I am glad that I had you as my protector through this whole ordeal, whether I knew it or not."

Erik leads her over to a bench close to them. He helps her sit down and looks at her, “LaNyah, are you sure about that? You may know that part now, but I know what I saw when you looked at me when Gina had you.”

LaNyah quickly blinks and runs her hands along the edge of her peplum top. "I'm not afraid of you, Erik." He lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "I feel safe with you."

Erik slowly stands to his full height, blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall. He starts to pace, “LaNyah, there is something that I need you to know.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I need to, I need you to understand.” Nyah looks at him, and she can tell this is something that has been weighing on him heavily. She nods at him to continue, “I did kill Gina’s brother, but I did it because of what he did to Ashley. He deserved to die.”

“I know.”

Erik looks over to her, “You know?”

“Yeah, Ashley and Alex told me before I walked out.”

He stops in front of her. "Why are you out here anyway?"

“I needed some fresh air after everything they told me. It was a lot.” Erik nods in understanding. “I know you know my history, Erik. Alex told me you ran a background check on me.” He exhales loudly, about to say something when Nyah stops him. “It’s ok, why wouldn’t someone investigating an embezzlement case look into everyone including the patsy.”

Erik is stuck watching her and how calm she is about everything she learned today. This is the woman he has grown to care so much about over the last few months. LaNyah, who has become stronger both mentally and emotionally right before his eyes, but he was too focused on the job to see it. And the best part, she’s not scared of him. She said she feels safe with him. Nothing he has ever heard sounded so good to him until hearing those words come out of her mouth. There is no way he could ever forget a woman like LaNyah.

Nyah is watching him back, just as intensely. He looks like there is so much on his mind. She has been there before, lots to say, and no idea how to start it. She wants to be that peaceful place for him as he has been for her, even if it is as a listening ear. She pats the open space on the bench next to her, "Sit down and let me know what's on your mind. You look like you are about to bust."

Erik takes the seat, and while getting himself together, he takes a deep breath before making eye contact with her, “I need to apologize for my actions during my interrogation of you. I didn’t mean to attack you like that.”

“Erik, that’s not necessary. I get it.”

“No, no, you don’t. I did that to protect me, not you.” LaNyah looks at him, confused. Erik continues, “I thought if you were mad at me that I could do my job, and nothing else would get in the way.” He looks down and away from her.

It is quiet for a few moments before Nyah taps his shoulder, getting him to look back at her, “I am not good at this kind of thing, and I was scared.”

“Scared of what, Erik?”

“My growing feelings for you.”

“You like me?” LaNyah looks up at him to see if he was serious, the look she saw on his face took her breath away. “Ummm, really? Wow!” She exhales, and Erik softly laughs at her reaction.

“Yes, really. I like you, LaNyah. And since I don’t know how to do feelings and relationships –“

“You tried to scare me away.”

“Yeah.” He takes her hands, intently looking at her smaller hands in his – Nyah's palm side down and his palm up under hers.  

Nyah's heart starts beating faster, and she feels her heart bloom. He likes her, too. This gorgeous man who can have anyone he wants, but he wants her. Even with everything she has been through and how she is. She looks as he holds both of her hands in his. His much larger hands encasing her smaller ones with such tenderness and care. She looks up to see a matching look in his eyes.

LaNyah hums, nodding her head. Erik looks out at the water. She squeezes his hands, bringing his attention back to her. “You almost succeeded.”

He sighs, “I know, and I regret that because my actions left you vulnerable. I couldn't protect you when it mattered the most, and that bitch got to you.” Erik weaves their fingers together.

She scoots closer to him, “But you immediately dropped everything and came looking for me, right?” He nods “and saved me from a crazy woman hellbent on destroying every person I cherish.”

“Yeah, Ashley and Alex.” He says.

Looking down at their interlocked hands, she clears her throat, “And you.” Erik looks over at LaNyah, who is smiling at him. “I like you too, Erik. But something tells me you already knew that.”

He smiles back at her, “I figured as much.” She bumps his shoulder, not wanting to let go of his hands. "Ok, ok. Yeah, I knew."

“So, am I the last to know?”

“About what?” He knows what she is asking but wants to hear her say it.

“Erik,” she groans. His shoulders shake as he tries to hold in his laughter. “Am I the last to know that you like me?” She suddenly stops, “Wait! Am I the last to know that I like you?” The look at her face as she asked the latter questions brings tears to his eyes.

His deep dimples appear, and he can no longer keep it together, “Yeah, you are.” Erik's full robust laugh reaches her ears, and Nyah shakes her head, of course.

LaNyah snatches her hands away from him, laughing as she stands up and walks back over to the railing. Erik walks up beside her, and they both peer out over the water, watching the lights turning on along the walking paths. She shivers as the cool night air settles over the two of them. He takes his jacket off and drapes it over her shoulders, and watches as she pulls it closer, inhaling his scent.

“So, what now?” He watches her big brown eyes gaze up at him, as she wonders where they go from there.

“I don’t know,” he opens his arms, and Nyah walks into them, “but why don’t we figure it out together?” Erik wraps his arms around her and settles his chin on her head.

She turns her head to the side against his chest and replies, “I’d like that.”

Epilogue

Taglist: @killmongersaidheyauntie @muse-of-mbaku @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @princessstevens @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @stark-red19 @kreolemami @bidibidibombaclaat @iamrheaspeaks @missumuch1918 @simplyyamberr @cherryblossomgirl20 @ajspencer1892 @chrismarcs @loosewindmill @sydneebleu @semianta @eyeknowmywrites @alexundefined @itsjustmezari @goddessofthundathighs @guccixcucci @kissmyafropuff @gimmeface @fd-writes @jozigrrl @soufcakmistress @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @shaekingshitup @localtrapgod @post-woke @theesotericqueen 

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger x oc #black panther fanfiction #the firm #thadelightfulone

[zwiezraczek]

6 + 1 Underground [Four x OC/reader] Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Sasha is a Polish girl, with a strange past. She has various skills, driving amongst others. So she becomes Eight. And you know that Four plus Four is Eight...

CHAPTER 1: Eight is Born - CHAPTER 2

WORDS: 2.3k

Sasha instantly opened her eyes, taking the gun from under her pillow and pointing it at the black figure that stood in front of the window of her apartment. Her blond messy hair was all over her face as she tried to focus on the intruder, waiting for them to move, to put their arms up, to surrender. But they didn't. They stood immobile, there, in between the airy curtains moved by the breeze.

“Got me,” the man said with a warm tone, just as if he was smiling, “you're quick as hell.”

“Shut the fuck up and turn on the lights motherfucker,” she barked still pointing at him. Her eyes were focused on the man moving slowly towards the little lamp in the right corner, as she moved herself on her bed. But he took his time, and she didn't like it. “Don't you fucking play with me or I'll fucking kill you.”

“So many swear words coming from the mouth of a young and delicate lady,” the stranger teased just before switching on the light.

The scene could have been embarrassing if Sasha was the shy type of girl, but she wasn't. Her large white t-shirt barely covered her panties as she was on her knees over her sheets, eyes focused on her target. Her blue pearly eyes looked at him, she had the face of an angel. This was why they chose her.

When her mother died, she lost everything, even her father, who spiraled down into immorality more than he did before. So she decided to go all illegal, no strings attached in this Polish city, Sasha and her pretty face coming right into the Polish mafia. They told her that the best she could be was a whore for them, maybe even the boss if she was lucky enough, but Sasha was so much more than she looked. She was Kubica. That was how her mother used to call her when she was behind the steering wheel. She was reckless, she was bold, she could be a danger for the people driving around her and to tone this down, her mother made her take some ballet classes. Discipline and recklessness, everything Sasha was made of. From pseudo whore to mafia's chef, Piotr's, driver.

“Fuck you, don't you dare telling me what I should be or not, you fucker,” she dangerously whispered as the man casually stood next to the lamp, arms crossed. “What do you want from me?”

“Why don't you run from me?” the stranger continued still looking at her. She felt disoriented, making a small head tilt as he said these words. “Fucking millennials, when you try to be like them they go “No, I don't get you old man, tbh sorry”,” he continued, a little bit deceived by what he just witnessed. “Billie Eilish, or whatever? Doesn't ring a bell?”

“I won't repeat myself,” she warned, her index ready to pull the trigger. “You don't talk, you won't live.”

“Okay, okay, let's chill a bit. I'm not here to kill you or whatever, but more to... Allow you to be free?” She rose an eyebrow, not putting down her gun. This man was stranger than she had expected, it would have been easier if he just wanted to kill her. She would have pulled the trigger. Boom, no problem. “Well, you know, I know you very well Sasha.”

“Ho the fuck do you know my name?” her words were sharper than a blade. Nobody in the mafia world knew her by her real name, she was Kubica. No Sasha, just Kubica, the driver.

“I know many things about you Sasha... Damn, that's so uncomfortable to stand, I'll sit if you don't mind,” he concluded before sitting on a small stool near the lamp. “So, I was saying. I know many things about you, that you're a ballerina...”

“Was,” she corrected angrily.

“Yeah, dancing stays dancing,” he brushed the subject off as soon as he spoke about it, “you work for that mafia for a long time because your father is an asshole that let you down when your mother died...”

“Don't you dare talking about my mother, understood?”

“Wow, relax. Promise. Wow, taboo. Okay, I'll remember that. So,” he pursued after a small pause, “your dad does some bad shit, you didn't like that shit so you started to do your own shit and your ways are parted now, Kubica.”

“My mom used to call me like that,” she whispered, body slowly becoming less and less tense. “Who are you?”

“Guardian angel, wanker, asshole billionaire... Names are countless, depends of the people you're asking. But mostly, I'm a ghost.”

“You fucking kidding me,” she erected while looking at him from head to toe.

“Well, technically, in the records, I'm dead. But, really, I'm not. Can you believe how simple it is to fake your own death?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Exactly,” he said as if she cared. “And then comes the fun part of being dead: you can do whatever you want. Heard about the big Coup, Murat Alimov, Rovach Alimov?” She only nodded. “Our job. We did it.”

“We? I thought you were alone.”

“We'll make the introductions later if you don't mind Sasha. But, well, we have another touchy touchy mission and we'd need a good driver so...”

“I'm working for Piotr,” she interrupted him harshly. “I'm loyal.”

“I know, discipline and shit but like... We really need you? Pretty please?”

“You have plenty of drivers in the sea, go and fish for them.”

“No many drivers are Kubica and look like an angel.”

“I said I'm loyal. Now leave or I'll blow your head.”

“Wouldn't you like to piss your father off even a tiny bit little more? Imagine him learning that you're dead, and you know, he's a motherfucker basically, he fucks around now... You'll be able to do some nasty things to that immoral motherfucker without being punished for it. Total freedom. Piotr can't guarantee that, but I can.”

He got her.

“I'll listen to you.”

She became Eight. She died in a car accident, suicide as the media said. She drove directly into the Odra, from the golden bridge right into it. Big scandal for the media, as they found the big Polish billionaire's daughter dead – in fact they never found her body, only the car – after years of searching for her. Daddy was very concerned, he cried his eyes out during the funeral. From afar, she saw Piotr attending the funeral, along with some of her mafia's friends. Magda stood next to Piotr, holding his hand, while she sobbed with puffy eyes. Sasha's heart was ready to stop as she saw this girl crying for her, she would cry for her too if it was her funeral. But now, Sasha was dead. Eight was born.

“No shit, your dad's a fucking actor,” One commented, standing next to her in the snow.

Already January. Snow fell during Christmas Eve, the day she spent with Maga watching stupid Polish movies and drinking cheap wine from the shop around the corner. Her last Christmas. The bare trees carried now a large amount of snow on their branches, sometimes falling off. Anna liked snow, she would miss it in California. She would miss her country, she would miss the food, she would miss everything. She would miss her language. But she should be able to make it, for her mom right?

“My father's a fucking asshole who knows how to cover up his fucking deeds,” she replied. “I don't wanna see this masquerade or whatever, we should go.”

“Wow, the last time somebody told me that they wanted to go and not watch their own funeral was... Right now,” he admitted. “Even Two wanted to watch it until the end. But fine, we'll have plenty of time to discuss our next move with the Ghosts.”

“Let's go then. I hope you have nice cars in the US.”

He smiled, not answering. That was a yes.

She slept during half of the flight, they arrived around noon, time to sleep in Poland, still early in the morning. She rubbed her eyes, siting next to One in the pilot's cabin. The engine was still roaring as they landed safely on the yellowish sand. This was too early for any shit like this, she thought as she grabbed her sport bag in which all her belongings were stuffed. Some comfy clothes, the keys of the cars that died with her and a picture of her mom and her, hidden between all these matters. One forbid taking too personal stuff, he agreed for the keys though, but she needed her mother with her. Just to feel like home.

She instantly regretted putting on a sweater when she stepped outside the engine. She felt drops of sweat run on her back, she knew she was absolutely sweaty right now; the only thing that reassured her was that she put a tank top under all of this. Life saver. She followed One's steps in the sand, sleepy as hell, wishing for a bed and a shower just to function properly. They landed in the middle of abandoned planes, in the middle of nowhere, in a Californian desert. Great, she was dead and lost. Was it all worth it, she asked herself as she followed one into one of the planes with a large ghost imprinted on it.

There were the others, the five others. They didn't even flinch when she entered the room with One, doing what they had to do. She looked all around her, the atmosphere was oppressive because of the lack of lighting, some neon green lights escaped from the monitors some of them worked on, stale smell spread all around the “room”. One clapped and all their heads rose, all eyes on Sasha, Eight, now. They scrutinized her, and she scrutinized them as they all gathered around them. It was like a cult welcoming a new member. She got shivers down her spine, tightening her grip around her bag. A short brunette holding folders against her chest was now standing in front of them, next to her a black man with a gun in his hand; a cold blonde looked at them and slowly made her way up to them, next to a man sitting on a chair in front of a computer. And the last one,a  blond man with a hoodie jumped over the table to find himself near, standing now next to the brunette. Great picture, the Power Rangers, she thought.

“Please welcome Eight, our new driver,” One said the group as they all looked at her. “No hugs, no kisses, she's a Kubica, no paparazzi or whatever.”

“Kubica,” the blond man whispered, catching Sasha's attention before the man sitting stood up and interrupted him.

“Welcome Eight, I'm Three. Was a hitman, now I'm a good hitman,” he precised with a finger up as the blonde who was standing next to him rolled her eyes.

“Shut up”, she cut him off as he looked offended.

“Ay, mami why are you so nasty with me?”

“I'm Two, former French FBI agent,” she pursued ignoring the man's whining.

“Clear and precise,” Sasha commented under her breath, already amazed by the woman. “Nice to meet you.”

“Five, former doctor in a Mexican hospital,” the brunette said with a welcoming smile. “It will always be a pleasure to heal your wound. Hope you won't move as much as Two when I try to do my magic.”

“Shut up,” Two groaned.

“Seven, sniper,” the black man introduced himself after putting the gun on the table and coming to shake her hand. “Hope you drive smoothly so I can give head shots from the car window.”

“I'll try my best,” she shyly answered while knowing she could do it. She actually did it sometimes as Piotr's men were having a hard time.

“Four, skywalker,” the hooded man said looking at her with his green eyes. “If you wanna watch a movie or something like that, just hit me up,” he continued as he ran his hand through his hair after putting down his hoodie. His curly blond hair was all messy, was he trying to comb it with his fingers?

“Thanks,” Sasha replied with a little smile. “So, I'm Eight, mafia's driver.”

“Liar,” Three commented, “not with this pretty face of yours.”

“You'd be surprised,” One interrupted as he patted Three's shoulder. “That girl has exceptional skills.”

“Six had exceptional skills too,” Two remarked, arms crossed now. “Didn't prevent his death.”

“Will we wallow for a long time, mourn and stuff like this,” One asked while looking at her. “He died a hero, that's it. We all knew what the mission was about and accepted possible death. Period as millennials say.”

“Period,” Two asked. “That's not the women's thing?”

“Dot if you prefer,” Sasha could hear One's sigh as he answered, but Two wasn't convinced. “Whatever, Eight's our new driver and that's it.”

“He promised some nice cars,” Sasha tried to say, but only Five seemed to listen to her.

“He's a liar, we had a horrible car in Hong Kong, not practical at all,” the brunette told her, as she seemed to bite her lip.

“Not practical,” Three added almost yelling.

“Whose fault? Whose,” One reproached him. “Okay, now we're finished with our complaints, Five, take Eight to her trailer please, it's the one next to yours. And Eight, make yourself at home.”

#6 underground #four #four ben hardy #6 underground ben hardy #four x oc #four x reader #four!ben #billy #ben hardy imagine #6 underground spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic