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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 11 months

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Stay Away from the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader; Seresin Daughter!OC (Rose) / Bradshaw Son!OC (Nick)

Word Count: 4.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Warnings: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Tense Father-Daughter Relationship; Teenagers Dating; Crying; References to Threats; References to Previous or Hypothetical Pregnancy Scares

Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.

A.N. You could read this as a sequel to my Left at the Altar series, since I used the name that I gave Hangman and Reader's daughter in that fic for this fic. But it's not 1000% necessary to read the series to understand this story.

And I meant to post this as part of Father’s Day, but let’s just ignore the fact that it’s a day late.

Master List

Admiral Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a very accomplished man. He was the youngest man to reach the admiralty since Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and was currently the Air Boss of NAS Miramar. He had his beautiful wife and absolute love of his life still by his side with their twenty-year marriage anniversary just around the corner. And three beautiful children to brag about to the world.

Everything was going near perfectly in Jake Seresin’s life. And then his eldest daughter Rose suddenly snapped from his little princess and into a defiant teenager about to flee to a college on the other side of the country. And sure, Rose had mentioned going across the country for college before, but Jake was more than a little suspicious.

Why, you may ask? Because Washington DC was awfully close to Annapolis, Maryland. The Naval Academy. The Naval Academy that one little fucker was attending next year.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw.

Rooster’s spawn was messing with Rose’s head and Jake was not going to stand for it.

Jake didn’t always have suspicions about Nick. He was a decently good kid. For Rooster’s kid, anyways. He was somewhat smart—not as smart as Rose, but he wasn’t dumb as rocks—and he didn’t cause too much trouble. And because of the handful of months between Nick and Rose, they were practically raised side-by-side, which was great until they hit their teenage years.

Because then Nick started to linger.

Spending so much time around Rose. Going to all of her games and all of her events, even if he had his own to worry about. Coming over to ‘study’ and to do ‘homework’ together frequently. Offering to give Rose and her siblings rides to school events or the beach. Always offering to help her and Jake’s wife too with anything to try and impress them.

Yeah, Jake had seen that game played before. He had played it himself back in the day. Successfully. Very successfully. He had the wedding ring, three full wedding albums, three kids, and nineteen and a half years of marriage to prove it. He knew all of the steps and all of the tricks to successfully convince a woman outside of his league to fall in love with him.

And, so, when Nick offered to take Rose for a ‘scenic’ drive in the Bronco, Jake put his foot down.

“What do you mean I can’t go?” Rose complained, glaring up at her dad. “It’s summer!”

“Exactly, so why don’t you go spend some time with your siblings? Or your other friends? Before you go all the way to the East Coast!”

“My other friends that just happen to be girls?” Rose emphasized, a scowl twinging at her lips.

“Yes,” Jake replied, causing Rose’s scowl to deepen.

“Why are you being so weird? Nick has driven me around all over the place!”

“You’re not going for a ride in that stupid bucket of bolts with him, Rose. And that’s final.”

“What is going on now?” Jake’s wife called tiredly, walking into the room.

“Dad won’t let me go for a drive with Nick,” Rose quickly explained, walking over to her mom.

“In the Bronco,” Jake emphasized, causing his wife to sigh.

Rubbing her face tiredly, Jake’s wife picked her head up and glanced between her eldest daughter and her husband. She knew exactly what Jake was concerned about, particularly with his emphasis on the Bronco. Taking a moment to come to a decision, Jake’s wife turned to Rose.

“You can go out with Nick in the Bronco, but be back by dark, okay?”

“But—” Jake started to protest.

“—Thanks, Mom!”

Rose hurried up to her room to change and to probably text Nick to come and pick her up while Jake stared at his wife with clear betrayal. In response, his wife shot him a knowing look and folded her arms over her chest.

“Jake, you’re overreacting,” his wife stated, causing Jake to gape at her.

“Do you want our daughter running around in the Bronco?” Jake hissed quietly, walking over to his wife. “Do you know what could happen to her there?”

“I’m sure that they’ll wear their seatbelts, Jake.”

“Babe, do you remember what we did when I took you for a ride in my truck? A nice slow ride on a summer night?” Jake asked, causing his wife to sigh again.

“Jake, they’re just friends.”

“That’s what we told your parents. Six months later, we were going at it like rabbits naked as the days we were born in the back of my pickup truck!”

“Jacob! For the love of—”

“—Why can’t you see that we’re losing her?” Jake interjected, causing his wife to pause for a moment.

The annoyed expression on her face dropped and she instead simply stared at her husband with a softer expression. Taking a step towards her husband. Rubbing his arm supportively, Jake’s wife reached out and grabbed his hand to give it a squeeze.

“We’re not losing her, Jake.”

“We are losing her,” Jake insisted, his voice coming out small. “She’s moving so far away in only a couple of months and she’ll barely have time to come home. She’s spent most of the last two years barely home between all of her activities and her friends. And I’m so proud of her, but she’s . . .”

“Growing up?” Jake’s wife suggested with a small smile. “Jake, she’s eighteen now. She’s not a little baby anymore.” Cupping Jake’s cheek with her hand, Jake’s wife offered him a small supportive smile. "She’s growing into her own person. And she’s your daughter so she’s stubborn as hell and won’t listen to anyone else while she does it. Least of all us.”

“But she’s going so far.”

“You’re in DC every other month,” Jake’s wife pointed out, rubbing his back. “And she has a phone. She’ll call us. She’s not leaving and never comin back, Jake.”

“She might if he gets involved,” Jake muttered under his breath, causing Jake’s wife to shoot him a look.

“Jake, they’re just friends. And even if they’re not, he’s a perfectly nice boy.”

“But, a Bradshaw? Really? She can do better than that.”

“I’m sure that Rooster would say the same if the situation was reversed,” Jake’s wife replied, shaking her head lightly. “But do not push Rose away by trying to come between her and Nick. The more that you make it seem like she’s rebelling, the more that she’s going to want to do it.”

“But I know exactly what the little twerp has planned!” Jake insisted, causing his wife to sigh.

“First of all, that little twerp is now taller than you. Second of all, Rose is a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders. She can take care of herself. Especially after all of those years of self-defense classes that you put her in.”

“She could kick his ass in three seconds,” Jake agreed, causing his wife to laugh.

“So, stop worrying about him. Just focus on spending time with your daughter, Jake. Okay?”

Pressing a soft kiss to Jake’s lips, she gave his hand a squeeze before walking off to continue on with her day. Jake stood there for a moment, thinking over his wife’s words, before the doorbell rang. Hearing Rose upstairs start to hurry, Jake quickly made his way to the door.

Nicholas Peter Bradshaw seemed a little surprised to see Jake standing at the door and subconsciously straightened up a bit more. Jake’s wife wasn’t lying—Nick was taller than Jake by a few inches, but he was like a little puppy in Jake’s eyes. And not just because Nick always wore a stupid lovesick smile on his face whenever Rose was around.

“Hey, Uncle Hangman,” Nick greeted him politely, nodding to him.

“You should get in the habit of calling me Admiral Seresin, Cadet,” Jake replied calmly, causing Nick to subtly wince a bit.

“Yes, sir.”

Jake nodded curtly as Rose hurried down the stairs, dressed for the San Diego heat. Letting out a light growl, Rose darted around her dad, grabbed Nick by the arm, and started pulling him towards the Bronco that was parked in the driveway.

“Goodbye!” Rose called over her shoulder.

“Be careful!” Jake called after them. “And think before you do anything!”

“Goodbye!” Rose emphasized back at her dad.

~~~~~

After the Bronco ride, Jake was still on alert when it came to Nick Bradshaw. His wife told him to calm down each and every time, warning him that he was going to give Rose a ‘complex’ if he kept trying to police her life like that, but Jake could just feel it in his bones that he should not trust Nick Bradshaw around his eldest daughter.

And because his instincts were second to none, he was proven right.

Jake was just starting to drift off to sleep with his wife happily tucked into his side. It was a warm night in Miramar and the air conditioner was running full blast. The white noise helped to lull his wife to sleep but Jake had always been a light sleeper, so it took more for him to fall asleep. Jake rested his head on top of his wife’s when he swore that he heard a noise from outside.

Jake picked his head up with his eyes cracked open, suspicious. He was always on alert. His wife often told him that he took the role of protecter a bit too seriously, but Jake couldn’t give in even a little bit with that. For his own conscience.

Getting up from bed, careful to not wake his wife, Jake padded down the hall. Passing by his younger children’s rooms, Jake kept his ear tuned to try and hear the sound. He peeked out the window, trying to spot any sort of indication about what could have made the noise. Like the neighbor’s stupid dog. And when he heard the subtle squeak again, Jake’s eyes narrowed.

~~~~~

Rose Seresin, meanwhile, was trying to open her window. She tried greasing the sides of it during the day, but it still made that stupid squeak occasionally. Holding her breath and hoping that her dad, who she knew was a light sleeper, didn’t hear her, Rose opened the window and looked down to see Nick waiting for her below.

He smiled up at her and waved, causing Rose’s heart to flutter in her chest. It wasn’t exactly planned for her to fall in love with her childhood best friend. But, as her mom told her, sometimes the heart just wants what it wants. And hers wanted Nick Peter Bradshaw.

Blowing him a quick kiss, Rose grinned and slid one leg out of her window. Planting her sneaker clad foot on the roof, Rose carefully slipped out of her window and lowered it a bit more, just in case her parents check in on her during the next few hours. Climbing down the side, Rose prepared to kick off and drop onto the soft mulch below when a chill went down her spine.

“Rose Leslie Seresin, what do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, Rose’s grip on the ledge slipped and she fell a bit. And Nick, also startled and close to shitting his pants, tried to catch her, but he ended up just acting as padding for Rose’s fall. Jake, still dressed in his pajamas, hurried over to help his daughter.

“Are you alright?” Jake called, pulling Rose to her feet and leaving Nick on the ground. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Rose sighed, brushing dirt off of her.

“Then why were you jumping out of your window?” Jake hissed, pointing up at the window to her bedroom. “In the middle of the night?”

Rose, who, all thing’s considered, was a bit of a golden child, froze in place, not really sure what to say. The evidence was right there, after all. And nothing that she could come up with would somehow make all of that go away.

“That’s what I thought,” Jake practically growled, before turning to look down at Nick. “What are you doing here, Cadet?”

“His name is Nick,” Rose stated, coming to Nick’s defense.

“And your ass is grounded,” Jake snapped back, causing Rose to shrink into herself. “I cannot believe that you would be so irresponsible, Rose! Running around with him in the middle of the night! Climbing out of your window! What the hell do you think that you were doing!?”

“Why the hell are you . . .” Jake’s wife called, stepping outside, before she spotted the situation at hand. Sighing, she took a deep breath before walking down to the scene. “Come inside. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.”

Once they were all inside, Jake’s wife told him to take a breath and to go and call Rooster to pick his son up. Rose sat on the couch, curled up on herself, looking like she wanted to burst into tears. Nick sat on the opposite side of the room, staring over at Rose, but unable to reach out to comfort her because then Jake might really bite his head off.

“Your parents will be here in ten minutes,” Jake grunted to Nick, who winced, before turning to Rose. “Do you have any explanation for this, young lady?”

“Jake,” Jake’s wife called to him softly, not wanting to see her daughter burst out into tears. “Give her a second to collect herself.”

Though he already had about a two-hour scold on the tip of his tongue, Jake bit it back. Mostly because he didn’t want to see his daughter burst out into tears either, even if he was livid about what he just saw outside.

He knew that he shouldn’t have trusted Nick Bradshaw.

Rooster and his wife showed up promptly, looking a bit concerned and harried. Rooster’s wife was completely embarrassed and practically grabbed Nick by the ear to drag him out of the Seresin household. With a quick apology to Jake and his wife, Rooster’s wife pulled her son outside and to the family car, leaving Rooster to drive the Bronco home.

But Rooster just had a few words to share with Hangman before he took his own leave.

“Go easy on her,” Rooster stated, causing Jake to scowl at him.

“As if I’ll take any sort of parenting advice from you, Rooster, after what your son just did.”

“Right, because you were a saint when you were a teenager. Never sneaking out or sneaking your now wife out in the middle of the night, right?” Rooster asked dryly, causing Hangman to narrow his eyes. “They’re eighteen, but they’re still kids. They make mistakes and they deserve a chance to learn from them. Don’t let your own fears fuck with her head. Cause it’ll take decades to undo that.”

Jake simply clenched his jaw in response, so Rooster saw himself out. Glaring down at the floor for a moment, Jake turned to see Rose burst off the couch and run upstairs to her room again. Jake’s wife walked behind her, trying to calm her down, but Rose kept going until she reached her room. Jake’s wife shot him a concerned look before hurrying up the stairs after her.

Jake stood where he was, hearing his wife lightly knock on the door and walk into Rose’s bedroom. Jake walked upstairs slowly after a few moments and quietly padded down the hall to Rose’s room. But he could hear his daughter crying before he even reached her door.

“Honey, it’s going to be alright,” Jake’s wife told her daughter, trying to comfort Rose.

“No, it’s not! Nick’s never going to want to see me again after this!”

“Rose, he probably wants to see your right now,” Jake’s wife assured Rose, probably squeezing her into her side.

“And Dad probably hates me!” Rose cried, causing Jake’s heart to shatter in his chest.

“Your father will never hate you, Rose,” Jake’s wife stated firmly, not giving her daughter a moment to doubt herself. “He’s just upset.”

“You didn’t see him, Mom. He hates me! And Nick’s probably going to break up with me now and . . .” Rose trailed off with just a couple of cries and gasps for air.

Lowering his head, Jake walked away from the door and back to his own bedroom.

~~~~~

A week had passed and Rose was completely avoiding Jake. If he walked into the room, she quickly left it or didn’t make eye contact. She spent most of the day up in her room, serving out the grounding that Jake and his wife agreed upon for sneaking out through her window. He wasn’t sure if she was in contact with Nick at all, but either way, he felt like he couldn’t ask.

And with only two weeks left until Rose headed out to the East Coast for college, Jake knew that he had to try make sure that his relationship with his daughter was salvaged before she left and probably never looked or came back.

Walking upstairs, Jake headed down the hall and knocked on the door to Rose’s room. She opened it a few moments later and her features instantly sunk a bit when she noticed it was him standing there. Lowering her head, Rose hid a bit more behind the door.

“What is it?”

“Let’s go for a drive.”

“Dad, I just—”

“—Please?” Jake interjected, causing Rose to glance up at him.

Ten minutes later, they were driving down the road, just the two of them, in Jake’s truck that they used for their beach days and family road trips. Rose was silent in the passenger seat, her gaze focused out the window and her entire body curled away from him. But Jake remained patient and focused on the road in front of him.

Pulling into the old diner that he used to take all of his kids to when they were small and his wife was either working or taking some ‘me’ time, Jake glanced over to catch Rose’s reaction. She frowned a bit and turned to look at him for the first time during their drive.

“Why are we here?”

“Well, it’s lunch time, isn’t it?”

They got out of the truck, with Rose being a bit reluctant, and headed inside the diner. They were quickly seated in a booth and Rose used the menu to put a barrier between her and her dad. Jake remained patient and smiled at the older waitress as she walked over to take their orders. Jake and Rose gave their orders before being left on their own.

“Did you get everything that you need before you go?” Jake asked Rose softly, who shrugged her shoulders in response.

“Most of it. We’ll just pick it up when we get there. That’s what Mom said to do.”

“Are you packed then?”

“Somewhat,” Rose replied, keeping her voice quiet.

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jake folded his arms underneath him and let out a sigh when Rose kept her responses short and her gaze lowered and away from his own. She fiddled with the paper wrap holding the utensils together, doing anything to fill the time and avoid having to talk to him.

“Rosie? Can you look at me?”

Rose glanced up at her dad, sinking a bit in her seat. Jake straightened up a bit, his expression serious and concerned, but his voice remained low and calm.

“I don’t hate you, Rosie. I could never hate you. You’re my daughter. My baby girl. And no matter what you do, I’ll never hate you, okay?”

“I know,” she replied quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me and your mom about Nick?” Jake asked softly and not accusatorily.

“Because I knew that you would freak out,” Rose explained quietly. “And I really like him, so I didn’t want to scare him away or mess anything up between our families.”

“And he treats you well? Makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” Rose stated, nodding confidently. “He does.”

“Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable? Or pressure you into doing something that you didn’t want to do but he did?”

“No. The whole window situation was my idea,” Rose replied, causing Jake to sigh.

“About that—”

“—Dad, I don’t want to talk about it,” Rose interjected, lowering her head again.

“Rosie,” Jake began, though she kept her gaze away from him, “I know that you really like Nick. But I don’t want you to . . . build your life around him. You’re only eighteen. You have your whole life in front of you. Both of you do.”

“I know. I’m not saying that we’re getting married,” Rose insisted, picking her head up a bit defensively.

“And that makes me very happy to hear,” Jake replied, causing Rose to sigh. “But I just don’t want you to get into a situation that you’ll regret down the line. I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was your age and I was lucky that in the end everything worked its way out.”

“I know. Grandma told me,” Rose stated, causing Jake to wince.

“All of it?”

“Just the bit about Grandpa threatening to shoot you when they thought you knocked up Mom,” Rose explained, reaching for her drink.

“Yeah, I remember that conversation,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “And I don’t want you to ever be put in that position, Rosie.”

“Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Are you calling your mom and I stupid then?” Jake countered, causing Rose to press her lips together.

“I’m not going to answer because I don’t want to be grounded again.”

“Good choice,” Jake stated, sitting up a bit straighter. “The point is, I remember what it was like to be a teenager and everything that goes along with it. And I made a lot of mistakes with your mom back then and even later and I wanted to protect you from all of that. But,” Jake emphasized, causing Rose to raise an eyebrow, “you’re going off to college soon and I need to accept that you’re growing up.”

“I’ve been growing up for a while, Dad,” Rose replied softly, shifting in her seat.

“I know, but I was in denial because it’s scary how fast you grew up. And you’ve accomplished more than I ever thought possible,” Jake continued, causing Rose to nod slowly. “Hell, you’re ten times better off than I was at your age and you get most of it from your mom, that’s for sure, and I’m so proud of you and I know that you’ll do even better at college and . . .”

Jake trailed off for a moment, taken back to a different day, about fourteen years ago, when Rose sat across from him at a booth in this dinner. She was missing about three teeth in her smile and her hair was pulled back away from her face. And she had a ketchup stain in her dress afterwards that his wife was not happy about, but made Rose giggle when he was getting scolded about it.

“Dad?” Rose called, bringing Jake back to the present.

Blinking a bit rapidly, Jake stared over at his daughter, who seemingly grew into a young woman overnight. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She didn’t need him or her mom like she needed them before. And she was ready to spread her wings and fly high, like they always knew she could.

“I don’t love the idea of you dating . . . but if Nick treats you right . . .”

“He does.”

“And he makes you happy . . .” Jake continued.

“He does,” Rose repeated, nodding curtly.

“Then you don’t have to hide your relationship from us anymore.” Rose noticeably perked up, but Jake was quick to add his paternal disclaimer. “But that doesn’t mean you two get to just do whatever you want. No excessive PDA and don’t ever think about climbing out of your window like that again. You’ll break your neck and then I’ll break him for not catching you.”

“Dad.”

“And if he gets you into any of the situations that your grandmother described to you about me and your mom back in the day—”

“—We won’t!”

“But if you do, I’m still an admiral. And if Nick wants to stay in the Navy, he better understand that I’m not afraid to call in some favors to serve him the consequences of his actions.”

“You mean Uncle Coyote?”

“I’ll call in a lot of favors,” Jake vowed, tapping his finger on the table threateningly, though Rose cracked a small smile in return.

~~~~~

The old Dagger Squad members who lived out and around southern California gathered during the last few days of summer to wish Nick and Rose good luck before they both headed out to the East Coast to start the next chapters of their young lives. Separate chapters or at the very least adjacent chapters in Jake’s mind.

Jake glanced over at where Rose and Nick were playing cornhole with a couple of the other Dagger kids when he felt arms wrap around his waist. His wife pressed a kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades, and rested her head against him.

“You made it right?”

“Mostly,” Jake replied, causing his wife to smile.

“I knew that you could,” Jake’s wife returned, walking around to his front.

“I still don’t like it. Or him,” Jake insisted as his wife cupped his cheek.

“But?” Jake’s wife suggested, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.

Jake sighed, turning away from his wife for a moment, before reluctantly turning back to face her. She arched her brow, like she knew exactly what he was going to say in response.

“But he makes her . . . somewhat happy.”

“I’m surprised that you survived that sentence,” Jake’s wife replied, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips that Jake returned happily.

“Barely.”

Wrapping an arm around his wife, like they were the teenagers, Jake glanced over at cornhole to see Nick with his arm wrapped around Rose’s waist.

“Don’t get too comfortable over there, Cadet!”

“Dad!”

“Jake!”

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theartoflovingthomashunt · 1 year

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The Bogart Diaries #37: A Special Day

[All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer] [The Bogart Diaries]

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Alex (F!OC) Book: Red Carpet Diaries Word Count: ~1,300 Rating/Warning: General (no warnings) Prompt: @choiceschallenge-may2023 pets, love ; @choicesholidays National Pet Parent Day (it's a holiday, right?),

Summary: Thomas has a surprise for Alex and Bogart on this very special day.

Peeking through her one barely open eye, Alex glanced at the time. "I thought we discussed waking up early," she mumbled, trying to hide in her pillow.

His fingers stroked gingerly through her soft hair. "It's a special day."

Her eyes flashed open in fear she had forgotten something. She grabbed her phone, checking her calendar immediately. Her panic subsided, a frown taking its place. "Did you just say that because you wanted me awake?"

"I know better than to do that." The corner of his lip tugged up. "It appears as though I am aware of a holiday which you are not."

A flicker of curiosity sparked within her, and soon her interest was fully piqued. "What is it?"

"All in good time, my love."

Her fingers glided across the glassy face of her phone as she searched for special days for the date.

"No cheating." Thomas slipped her phone from her grasp, placing a kiss on her forehead before pulling away.

"No fair," she pouted playfully. "Can I have a hint?" Alex batted her lashes, her eyes widening in a plea.

His lips pressed together in a Cheshire grin. He turned away, leaving her to wonder.

"Thomas!!!"

"May I suggest you begin by getting dressed?"

"How will I know what to wear if you don't tell me what we're doing or where we are going?"

"Wear something comfortable and bring a sweater," he advised without another word.

"Is it national wake-up early day?"

"No."

"...national watch the sunrise day... though I guess the sun is up, so maybe not."

He couldn't help but smile at her determination.

"...what about enjoy the day... day?

"No."

The questions started as she reluctantly left the comfort of her warm cacoon.

"Is it national breakfast food day? Let me guess, make your own omelet day. She offered confidently, knowing perfectly well it wasn't national waffle, pancake, or french toast day. Those were March 25, February 28, and November 28, respectively.

"No."

"Is it national go for a morning walk?" She questioned as Thomas put on Bogart's collar. "Ooh! National walk your dog day!"

"Not quite." He opened the door, ushering Bogart and Alex out.

Bogart pranced circles around Thomas, his tail wagging happily. The sound of the magic "R" word left him vibrating in excitement.

"Take your dog for a ride day!"

"No, my love."

Alex paid little attention to the scenic view they passed by as they drove. Her string of questions grew, but the answer never changed.

Thomas smiled as his wife rambled away, naming holiday after holiday, or at least what he assumed were all holidays. Since meeting Alex, he learned not to ask. There was apparently a holiday for everything, including make your own holiday day and national nothing day, where you can observe no holidays. However, despite how close she came, she never asked the right question.

"We're here," he announced, pulling down a long sandy road to a private beach.

"It has to be take your dog to the beach day." Her chipper tone grew fatigued.

"Patience, my love," he encouraged.

As Alex let Bogart out, Thomas retrieved a bag, blanket, and a basket he had previously tucked in the Jeep when Alex wasn't looking.

Her mouth opened with another guess but closed when Bogart barked, calling for her attention. "You want to play?"

The black lab barked again in reply. His front end fell to the ground, his tail waving in the air.

Alex grabbed a ball from his toy bag and threw it. Bogart bounded forward, chasing the neon green sphere across the sandy shore.

Thomas listened to the peaceful hum of the ocean as he watched the pair play, sand kicking up in their wake.

Thomas had prepared a picnic breakfast for them, complete with coffee, fruit, and pastries, as well as, home-made dog biscuits. When he had set up the blanket and laid everything out, he called them over.

"What's all this?" Alex marveled, her gaze immediately falling on the coffee. "You know just the way to my heart." She teased as he poured her a cup. She nestled in beside him on the blanket, savoring the warm beverage in her hands. "This is beautiful. Whatever the occasion is, thank you."

"No more questions?"

"No more questions," she repeated, stroking Bogart with one hand as she sipped her coffee with the other. She gazed over the soft waves of the placid ocean surface, capped with glistening diamonds from the sun's rays. "I'm just going to enjoy the day, whatever it is."

"Then, I suppose you won't be wanting this?" Thomas pulled out a small wrapped box, holding it out to her.

"Well, I mean, if you already went through all this trouble, it would be rude to not accept this lovely gift." Her eyes widened as she unwrapped the box, opening it up to reveal a beautiful, custom bracelet with Bogart's pawprint printed on it with his name engraved above it.

Tears glistened in her eyes as Thomas lifted the bracelet from the box. "May I?"

She nodded as he latched the bracelet on her wrist. "I love it!" Her thumb ran softly over the charm. "I love you, both of you." She leaned in, kissing Thomas softly, and then turned to Bogart, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. "It's perfect."

"I'm glad you like it." Thomas reached into the bag, revealing one more small box. "I couldn't decide which to get, so I got both."

Her brow arched curiously as she unwrapped the second box. Her gaze fell upon the delicate heart necklace beside a circular charm with a heart the same size cut out.

"Happy Pet Parent Day," Thomas offered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Bogart couldn't have a more amazing and inspiring mother than you. "The necklace is for you. The charm is for Bogart's collar. Now the two of you will always be connected no matter where you are."

Alex sniffled back her tears at the beautiful sentiment. "I love it. I love both gifts. Thank you." She threw her arms around her husband.

Bogart danced around them, kissing their faces, not sure what they were celebrating, but he was happy to be a part of it.

"At least you're finally admitting Bogart is our child," Alex teased as she pulled back, admiring her gifts once more.

"I have come to accept that you believe it, and there is not a journey in this life I would not want to be by your side through, so if that means accepting my 'furbaby' as you say, then it is something I will do happily."

"I'll take it!" She cheered in victory. "Did you hear that, Bogart? Daddy loves you! Yes, he does! You are so, so loved, my sweet boy."

Thomas cleared his throat as Alex gushed over their black lab. "I have one more gift."

Alex and Bogart turned their attention back to him.

"This one is for Bogart." He pulled a bright, squeaky beach ball from the bag. "I thought he might like it."

Bogart sat at attention, watching his hooman dad hold a new shiny toy.

"I think he loves it already," Alex giggled. "Throw it!"

Thomas had barely released the toy when Bogart went charging after it.

"Have I mentioned how much I adore you?" Alex asked as she hugged him.

"You may have," Thomas smiled, pulling her in. He rested his head atop hers as the pair watched Bogart prance around, squeaking his new ball with glee. "I love you, too."

"Thank you for all of this—" She pinched a piece of croissant, savoring the buttery flavor. "It's absolutely perfect."

"Happy National Pet Parent Day, Alex."

"Happy National Pet Parent Day to you, too! Bogart and I are lucky to have you."

Thank you so so much for reading this silly little story. I have no idea how it got so long. 🙈 I hope you enjoy it. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I can't thank you enough for the support.

PS--- this was supposed to be posted on Sunday, but the week got away from me and here we are a week later! Just pretend I submitted it on time!

#Thomas Hunt #Alex Spencer #Alex Hunt #thomas hunt rcd #thomas orson hunt #red carpet diaries #thomas hunt x mc #hunt x mc #thomas hunt x oc #halex #fan fiction #choices #playchoices #choices game #thomas x alex #lovealexhunt #bogart hunt #the bogart diaries #may2023

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incognito-insomniac · 2 years

Note

🏡❄️(aw) and 🦋for Erim *and* Liam :D and ☕ for Alysia! and 🌗 for Miranda. If that's too much... too bad! (I wanna hear about your Shep already :p )

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK! I was so happy when you sent it and then i spent forever on the answers and also life happened. After a long wait here are my answers ^_^

🏡 Describe your OCs ideal house! Give us a tour around! What’s their garden like? Their bedroom? Kitchen? Where is it and how many people live there?

Erim Lavellan

Having grown up with temporary tents and halla carts, Erim is not picky. But he has grown accustomed to four walls, a large hearth, a big bed, and a desk. Those are the essentials. Ideally, he would like a cottage (A hut. A shack. A hovel if you will. ;P) up in the Vimmark Mountains of the Free Marches surrounded by towering pines.

Kitchen: He needs a cooking area, some drying hooks for herbs, big earth, well-worn stool, poker, kettle, pots, pans, shelves of bowls and dry goods. Then you got a table with a few chairs, a window looking over the kitchen garden, a pie.

Living Room: Shares the hearth with the kitchen. A couple overstuffed chairs, braided rug, and a bookshelf. A painting of the Emerald Graves he picked up in Orlais. A carved halla from Mori and Anla. A smattering of other tchotchkes from his travels.

Bedroom: Big bed. That's important. Hewn wood. Patchwork quilt and various woven blankets. Window looking out over the flower garden and maybe like a little pond or stream. Dalish tapestry depicting the summer solstice.

Office: Also has a window looking over the garden. A modest desk surrounded by bookshelves, mostly focused on history and lore. So many got it wrong. He's going to get it right. And he's going to right the wrongs made against his people.

Just him and Liam. Cozy.

Liam Hebert

Lol. Liam wants an expansive apartment along the promenade of a notable Orlesian city. He wants festivals, and exotic markets, and fine wares, and to feel the electric thrum of a vibrant city. So! It's a very good thing that they have such an apartment in Val Royeaux to use when escaping the heavy rains of the Free Marches or when called on for important business.

It is expansive in Erim's opinion. Liam finds it modest yet sufficient (it was the largest Erim would tolerate). They can host small dinner parties, put up a few guests, and generally lie about on plush sofas and ottomans.

The most lavish of rooms is the master bedroom which houses a massive bed full of pillows with elegant drapery and large scenic paintings. A bay window and balcony look out over the Waking Sea. This is where Erim hides out when he's had too much of Orlesian Society.

Overall the entire apartment is more than Liam needs or even would normal treat himself to. But he feels Erim deserves a plush gilded home to conduct his official business from and entertain his friends.

❄️ What makes your OC sad, so sad that they can’t help but cry all day? How do they cheer themself up? Does their sadness upset any of their loved ones too?

Erim Lavellan

Erim was pretty distraught when he lost Liam in the attack on Haven. He didn't cry, he was too numb. But he also doesn't remember much of the trek to Skyhold. He cried for days when Clan Lavellan was massacred. He chose diplomacy and it failed. His reaction was more screaming, crying, breaking things but only alone in his chambers….and in front of Casandra because he feels comfortable enough with her to express his true feelings and frustrations. His friendship with Cassandra is what keeps him going. She is a stalwart shoulder to cry on in place of his most beloved.

Liam Hebert

Liam cried when he lost his first husband, Bernard, in battle under the service of Duke Ghyslain. That is the most sadness he has ever felt. But there are also days the weight of the lives he has taken becomes too much and he feels such sorrow. He will not stir from the bed and Erim attends to him most dutifully on those days knowing full well the burden of snuffing out a life. It is this tender care that revitalizes him to strap up his boots and face his next fight.

🦋 If your OC could change everything (or just something) about their life would they? What would they change? What do they think would happen if they did? What would their loved ones think?

Erim & Liam

Their answer is the same. On the day of the attack on Haven, they would not get separated. Erim would not let Liam run off on his own to rescue his men. Liam would not let Erim run off alone to face Corypheus. They would not lose each other and would continue on their most wonderful love affair shortened too quickly. T_T

☕ Give us one (or more if you feel like it) of your OCs deep dark secrets! Why do they keep it hidden? Spill the tea!

Miranda Shepard

Deep dark secret….I have so little in mind for her background. I honestly don't know. It's probably that she's secretly been in love with Garrus from the beginning. Or that Joker is her favorite and she does treat him different than the rest of the crew even though she denies it. Or that she really appreciates what EDI brings to the team and would be interested in further AI tech if it weren't so stigmatized. Really truly it's how deeply she cares for her whole team. She plays a very care-free yet straight-laced soldier. But she would let the world burn for anyone on her crew. And at the end of the day, her deepest secrets are simply the things she keeps from the Alliance. She doctors her reports when morals warrant it. And then she does the same with the Illusive Man. Her superiors don't need the details on all the good she's doing in the system. (Okay well that turned into a better answer than I thought it would.)

🌗 Early mornings or late nights? What do they spend their time doing during these hours?

Miranda Shepard

Both? She has insomnia due to a smidge of PTSD from Akuze and a bit of workaholic perfectionism. So the wee hours are mostly spent mulling over reports, overthinking strategies, reviewing her past mistakes, doom, gloom, target practice, and blowing off some steam with Garrus ;P

#ask game #oc erimenthan lavellan #oc liam hebert #oc miranda shepard #my ocs

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lorna-d-m · 3 years

Text

Lights Out: Chapter Five

Summary: Roxanne, recently graduated and unemployed, gets a call from her childhood friend and hero: her cousin James hunt. In need of a social media manager after one too many scandals, he can think of no one better than Roxanne for the position. Excited about a fun job and getting to know more about her cousin, she jumps at the chance. However, amongst all the bright lights of both the circuit and the media, Roxanne falls in love with his rival: Niki Lauda.

Pairing: Niki Lauda (Rush 2013) x fem!OC Roxanne Hunt

Word Count: 4k

T/W: language, explicit sexual content

A/N: I think my procrastination is manifesting itself into a writing fury, and the fact that I couldn't really work on it for a week despite wanting to. That's why chapters three, four, and five have come in such rapid succession, so I'm linking the two previous ones here in case you need to catch up, and as always there's links to all part on the masterlist pinned to my blog. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! (Also check out the 1975 Spanish Grand Prix shit was wilding back in the day with no human rights. By modernizing the story I've modernized some of the incidents with less damage and such, but I think it's also important to know some of the history before you alter it.)

(ch. 3) (ch.4)

Spain, Montjuïc Circuit

Friday, May 8th, 2020

Niki had more than a few problems at the moment. If he wasn’t already stressed out enough from being eighth in the championship, failing to score higher than fifth place so far, and jittery about keeping his budding relationship with his best friend’s cousin a secret, Spain would prove enough to push him over the edge.

Friday morning, Niki went for a track walk before a full day of practice sessions, press conferences, and interviews. He laced up his good walking shoes, found his bucket hat to keep the sun off him, and took his team that was ready to take note of whatever he said. It was as he toured the scenic track that he noticed the barrier on the first turn looked tilted, almost as if it wasn’t secured properly. Curious, he started to mess with it, realizing he could push it left and right with just his hands.

“Do you see this shit?”

“We’ll make a note of it and tell the race directors.”

He grunted and continued along the track, walking next to the barriers rather than on the pavement. Every so often he gave one a push, seeing how much it buckled under pressure. By the fifth turn, Niki suspected most of the barriers were not bolted together properly.

“This is fucking ridiculous!”

Niki wasn’t placated by his team telling him they’d report it to the race directors and the stewards. He wanted to tell them now while there was still time to either fix them or call off the weekend. If he was going to drive around a circuit at over 180 kilometers per hour, he wanted to know that the barrier could catch him if he went off rather than let him run into the stands. He put his hands on his hip and knew he would have to go himself to assert his point.

***

“Have you heard?”

James and Roxanne hastily ate lunch before heading to the media pen. She was shaking her salad while James picked at the meal his trainer chose for him. George had gotten on to him for the drinking and the party food, so now he was on a stricter diet.

“No, what?” James was always picking up the latest rumors at the circuit. She attributed it to his friendly nature and people’s willingness to talk to him. After hooking up with Niki in his car, she worried some passerby spotted them and the word would spread like wildfire through the paddock, but so far it hadn’t. Roxanne would know if it did.

James grinned, knowing as much as Roxanne denied enjoying gossip, she loved to be in the know. “I heard Niki went to the stewards this morning.”

So that’s why he hasn’t responded to my good morning text. “For what?” Her eyes went wide and her nose crinkled. “He hasn’t done anything.”

“Well,” he leaned across the table for emphasis, “it isn’t what he’s done but what he’s found. Apparently, the barriers aren’t up to the rat’s standards, so he’s lodged a complaint and filed a protest if it’s not fixed by qualifying tomorrow.”

“Shut up!”

“And,” his eyes gleamed, getting to the most recent part, “he called a driver meeting for this afternoon. He wants to do it before the practice sessions, obviously, so everyone’s aware there’s a problem and can no doubt support his claim.”

“No way.” Roxanne’s hand hit the table. “You have to tell me what happens afterward.”

“Tell you?” James chuckled. “I was going to have you sit in! You are my PA, after all, you can sit in the corner and take notes or something.”

“Oh shit, that’s right.” Her hand quickly covered her mouth. “Do you think this is one of those moments we’ll see in the documentary on Netflix months from now?”

“Absolutely. You don’t see a driver’s association meeting get called without some serious shit occurring.”

***

Niki tapped his foot against the floor and rubbed the sweat off his palms. The Spanish race directors brushed off his claim, and the stewards said they would investigate the matter later. Only he couldn’t wait until later. That’s why he called a meeting of the Grand Prix Drivers Association. He sweated it out until Jackie Stewart, three-time world champion and chairman of the association, started the meeting.

His eyes darted around the room, studying his fellow drivers. Some looked genuinely interested, others like they longed to be anywhere else. Some met Niki’s eye and stared back, wondering what the hell he was going to say when it was time for him to speak. Rumors spread unbelievably fast in the circus. Niki’s lips pressed together into a thin line. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James’s towering figure walk in, minutes before the meeting was due to start, with Roxanne next to him. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and took a deep breath in.

“Right,” Jackie’s Scottish brogue cut through the drivers’ chatter, “now that we’re all here I believe Niki Lauda would like to speak. Niki, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you.” He stood, brushing his sweaty palms against his pants again before placing one hand on his hip. “I called this meeting because, as all you drivers know,” Niki surveyed the crowd again, spotting the press hidden in the corner, “this is one of the most dangerous tracks on the calendar.” The hand not on his hip emphasized his point, moving and shaking beside him. “One half of the course is very slow while the other half is very fast. To be even remotely acceptable in terms of risk the barriers must be sturdily assembled and planted into the ground which I have found them not to be. Those of you with experience-” he made direct eye contact with Fittipaldi, “-know that if you are going to be racing around a treacherous circuit you want to know the barriers can catch if you fuck up, so I called this meeting to take a vote to protest this race unless the barriers are fixed.” Only a few of the drivers groaned at this, notably the ones not active members but rather participants of the association. “There would be no change to the championship standings as far as points are concerned. The race would simply be canceled.”

Niki rested both hands on his hips and scrutinized the drivers. Some were convinced, others of the mind to see the barriers themselves, and some would probably never agree with him out of principle. Niki could live with them getting mad at him, calling him a coward even, but he couldn’t live with himself risking his life and their lives needlessly on an unsafe track.

***

The sky in Spain darkened, the moon poking out from behind the clouds. Roxanne already changed into her pajamas and was midway through her skincare routine, but the gnawing feeling of something being amiss persisted. She rinsed the cleanser off her face and reached for her phone. The F1 app was full of articles, opinions, and commentary about the canceled practice sessions, and it was a struggle to stay on top of everything despite living it at the circuit. She scrolled through the updates when she saw a headline that made her stop.

Shocking Press Conference Moment: Lauda Storms Out of Interview

Oh Niki. Roxanne wanted to say something to him after the driver meeting, but he was briskly shuffled away by the Ferrari team. Then when she saw him during the interview circuit she thought it wouldn’t be appropriate, and he was too busy. Roxanne opened the video and tapped her fingers against her phone case as she waited for it to load.

“And, Mr. Lauda,” a faceless voice from the sea of interviewers spoke. Niki, sitting with a bright red embroidered Ferrari jacket, glanced around trying to find the man. “Do you have anything to say to the people who claim this is just Ferrari tactics and that the barriers are fine?”

Niki’s eyes turned dark and angry quickly. “Which asshole said this?” He craned his neck to find the man. The journalists sitting next to the man moved away, looked away, anything they could do to indicate it was not them who pissed Niki Lauda off.

“There are some who say this is all just Ferrari schemes since you’re well behind in the championship and this track doesn’t suit you. Do you have anything to say to them?”

Oh Niki. Roxanne leaned against the counter, afraid to see how much time was left on the clip. “I don’t mind being called scared or a coward, but I can’t tolerate accusations of being a cheat or questions about my integrity. Fuck them, and fuck you for asking. Press conference over.” He ripped the microphone and wire off of him and walked away, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

Roxanne knew he must be frustrated and hurt- she saw as much in the clip- but she didn’t know how to help him. Niki was always so focused during race week, intensely, he admitted on their first date. He even went as far as saying he would come off as a bigger asshole than usual, but driving required his full attention. Roxanne accepted it at the time, thinking it was just him exaggerating, but now she wasn’t sure. How do you help someone like him?

***

Niki entered his room, grateful to be free of cameras, reporters, team members, and anyone else looking to him to say something. He was exhausted, feeling like he talked in circles half the afternoon, but only half his audience listened. However, he had to remember, it was the important half. The practice sessions were canceled and mechanics were working to repair the barriers. After slipping off his shoes and resting his jacket on the back of the closest chair, he pulled out his phone. Dozens of missed calls and unread texts that he did not have the energy to respond to. As he scrolled through to see if he deemed any as important enough to answer, a new message popped up on his screen.

Schatz: I know it’s been a crazy day, but let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. 😘

A warm feeling spread through his chest, and he smiled. Roxanne deserved a text back, if only for making him smile on such a miserable day.

Niki: Thank you. At this point, I just want to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow thinking this was all a bad dream.

He set his phone down and changed into his comfiest pajamas. As much as he wished all his problems would disappear overnight, he knew it was unlikely. In the morning he would still be eighth in the championship, hiding his relationship, and leading a protest.

Schatz: Sleep well then, and sweet dreams 😴😴

Niki had to laugh. He found emojis annoying in texts and useless- just say what you mean and be done with it- but when Roxanne used them he found it endearing.

Niki: Goodnight Schatz 😴

Saturday, May 9th, 2020

Roxanne checked for a sock on the doorknob and knocked. There was none, so she comfortably used her room key to let herself in, knowing she wouldn’t see some poor woman in a state of undress or hurrying to sneak out. James snored in bed, tangled up in the sheets as if he didn’t have a schedule to adhere to.

“James, come on,” she turned on the light by his bed and opened the curtains. “Up and at ‘em.”

“Roxie,” he squinted, “a treat as always.”

Playfully she smiled, accepting the sugar-coated complaint. They went about their usual morning routine, where he insisted on another five minutes asleep and she practically dragged him out of bed. Roxanne set his race suit out, neatly folded and pressed, and found his lucky pair of sunglasses that were hidden under his jacket. James wasn’t worried about qualifying at all, or if he was he didn’t show it. He smiled confidently on his way to the pits, never showing how much he wanted to puke or the bile rising in his throat.

Roxanne, however, couldn’t stop fidgeting. First with her ring, then her lanyard, and finally the untucked stand of her hair. The race mechanics spent all of last night and the day before tightening and mending the barriers so hopefully, the drivers were pleased. With the problem supposedly solved, the teams leaned on the drivers to call off the strike and race.

She watched the practice session from the garage, tapping one foot on the floor the whole time. The drivers were careful not to go off the track or wide at any point, and she suspected they still had doubts too. Neither James nor Niki topped the timesheets for the session, but she reminded herself they didn’t need to. This was about their familiarization with the course and their race setup. Going all out and pushing it to the edge was not what she wanted them to do. Not when there was a chance they could go careening off the track.

***

Niki was pissed off and had a point to prove. Being called a coward by fans and commentators didn’t bother him. He was not afraid to admit he was scared of fucking up and going through the barrier. That was a real risk, a danger, and he publicly acknowledged that. But being called a cheat and a liar drove him mad. The whole morning he carried a chip on his shoulder and snapped at the littlest things. He refused to do any interviews.

That afternoon, he hopped in his car with a vengeance. If they wanted to call him a piss poor driver and a wimp, let them. If they wanted to call him a pussy and a crybaby, let them. Let them try to say that, to his face or behind his back, after he gave his everything in the qualifying session. Niki would make them eat their words, no, choke on their words, he decided.

The Ferrari was a fast car and had no difficulty in Q1 or Q2. It was Q3 that worried Niki, or more specifically, the last thirty seconds of Q3. Sure, all the drivers went out when the time started and put in a fast lap. But they also waited until time was almost up to go again, hoping they could put in a faster lap with no one able to run and beat him. Niki listened to the team radio as he completed his final warm-up lap. They advised him to slow down a hair on the second to last turn to buy more free track ahead of him.

As he crossed the line to start his flying lap, he tuned everything else in his head out. All that mattered for the next minute and twenty-three seconds were him, the car, and the track. The press, the drivers, even his mother calling in the morning and telling him not to race if it was dangerous was forced out. Niki made himself one with the car as every movement of his hand, flex of his foot, or shifting of the gears was instinctual. There wasn’t time to think about being centimeters off the apex or going wide over the rumble strip. He avoided such blunders without a thought. Niki drove his heart out.

He crossed the finished line and started slowing down the car from the blinding pace he was at. “What was my time?” he demanded.

“P1, Niki.” He recognized Luca’s voice on the radio. “Very nicely done.”

He laughed over the radio. P1.

“Do you hear the stands, Niki?” Luca laughed joyfully too. “They’re cheering your name!”

It was admittedly selfish of him, but there was only one person he wanted to hear calling his name.

***

“Niki…”

His head was buried between her thighs, hungrily and selfishly licking her cunt. Her fingers tangled in his hair, mindlessly drawing him closer. As if he would ever leave. Every pant, murmur, gasp, and moan spurred him on and fed his ego. And when she said his name? Mein Gott there was nothing better than that. It was like pouring fuel on the fire.

“Niki, I’m close.” She carded her hand through his hair, tugging when she reached the end of the gold curls.

I know, Schatz, I know. His hands that had been digging into her thighs, holding them apart for him and dragging her closer, snaked to her center. Niki replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them to find the spot that made her melt under him. He knew he found it when she cursed again and arched her back, so he rubbed it insistently.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it.” She grabbed his head again, forcing his tongue onto her clit. He felt her clench around his fingers and squirm under him, and he coaxed her to her high. Roxanne unraveled in his grip when she came, chanting his name more sincerely than she had any prayer.

“So good for me, so beautiful.” Niki shifted again, his hands on her thick thighs, repositioning her for him. Leaning down, he kissed her again, feverishly and frantically, moving from her neck and jaw until his tongue slid into her mouth. She grasped him in her hand and realized he was already hard from eating her out. Roxanne had been too caught up in her own pleasure to notice him rutting into the sheets under him, desperate for any kind of friction.

A whimper escaped her mouth when he slid through her wetness, slowly pushing in. Niki smirked, knowing it was him who made her feel this way and him who made her say his name as her only prayer. Every drag of his cock made her squeeze him tighter. He sunk into her in a slow, sensual rhythm at first. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go harder and deeper.

“Is that what you want, Schatz?” He removed his tongue from her nipple. “You want to get thoroughly fucked until the only word you know is my name?” While she was distracted he slid one hand down to her cunt.

“Yes, God, yes!”

Niki tsked, “Close, but that’s not my name, Schatz.” He bit her nipple, making her gasp in surprise. Then he started to rub her clit as he had earlier with his tongue. She arched her back on the bed, the sensation almost too much in the best way possible. That rubber band of tension inside her threatened to snap. Niki sped up his thrusts and his thumb, wanting to bring her to another climax before he found his. Her hand grasped the sheet under her, not knowing what else to do but rut back onto him and scream his name as she came.

Roxanne could tell his composure was slipping as his breathing shook and the muscles of his back and shoulder tensed under her calming hand. She relaxed her legs’ hold on his waist and allowed him to chase his high. Stroking the side of his face, she whispered, “Come for me, Niki, come for me.”

That was enough to push him over the edge. With a wild tenacity, he drove into her, needing to feel her, breathe her, taste her again. She threw her head back again, relishing the feeling of his cock hitting that spot only he seemed capable of finding. Panting, Roxanne realized she was going to come again. Her third climax brought him to his orgasm as she clenched him tight again and raked her fingernails down his back. With a sweet groan, he practically collapsed on top of her, overcome with pleasure.

Niki rolled off of her and laid there a moment as he came down from his high. When he did, he got up to find a washcloth in the bathroom to clean her with. Gently, he washed up his cum and hers, placing tender kisses on her thigh. “I knew I could get you to come for the third time,” he smirked.

Breathless and boneless, she giggled.

“What?” he tilted his head to the side. “You were begging me for it, going ‘Niki, Niki, Niki!’” He did his best imitation of her, but it paled in comparison to the real thing.

She stared at him, nestled between her thighs again, and sighed. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Sunday, May 10th, 2020

Roxanne sat on a stool in the Hesketh garage, albeit a bit uncomfortably, but she would never complain. Her foot tapped the bottom rung as she watched James prepare to get in his car. He walked past her to put on his balaclava and helmet, and she grabbed his wrist. “Be careful, please.”

“When am I not?”

Her heart sank as she turned back to the screen showing the pre-race coverage. She glanced up when James peeled out of the garage, praying both of her boys would make it through the day alright. As the cars lined up on the grid, Niki in pole position and James behind him in third, and her breath caught. They’re so close. Of course, she was glad they both did well in qualifying, but she knew race incidents are more likely to occur at the start of the race when they are just coming off the line.

As they waited on the grid, James and Niki couldn't have been more opposite. Niki stared straight ahead, talking to Luca, his team principal, and the team. James was smiling and waving to the grid girls walking out. She laughed nervously, knowing as opposite as they appeared, they were filled with the same drive to win and equally tenacious. James, who already stood on a podium this season, would be looking to do so again, while Niki, trailing behind in eighth, would be fighting to hold his starting position.

“And it’s lights out and away we go in Spain!”

She watched the front runners as they raced from the line, Niki holding his position without being overtaken by Clay or James. They drove into the first corner, and that was when Brambilla’s car tangled with Andretti in fourth position. Her heart beat out of her chest as she witnessed Andretti’s car knock into the back of Niki, who promptly pitched sideways into Regazzoni and off the track. The yellow flags were flew with James somehow escaping unscathed and in the lead.

Christ.

Half of Roxanne cheered to see James leading the Grand Prix. The other half broke when she saw Niki climb out of his car, shaking his head and inspecting the car. Even she could tell he was out of the race.

“There again go Niki Lauda’s chances of scoring big for Ferrari! That can not feel good.”

Mentally, Roxanne calculated as the cameras changed between James leading behind the safety car and the clearing of the damaged cars. Four races in, and he had a sixth place, two fifths, and now a DNF to his name. That was 28 points for the season so far, and they were almost a third of the way through. It must have stung him deeply.

Then she looked on in disbelief as James spun out and crashed on lap six.

“This is proving to be a very dangerous race indeed!”

No shit. The garage hustled into action, making preparations to receive the disfigured car. They knew James would be out of contention, but they were eager to inspect Super Star. James still sat in the medical tent getting checked over when the race directors ultimately canceled the race, as by that point nearly half the field spun out, crashed, or refused to race.

***

Cursing enough to make a sailor blush, Niki threw another shirt into his suitcase. What does it matter if I forget it? I can buy another one. He wanted to leave this cursed country. After everything he went through, to go out on lap one? He’d had enough. His phone blew up with yet more messages and calls, but he ignored them. Niki would pack and drive himself to the airport that night, fuck everyone and everything else. Hell, he would fly the plane himself if it meant he could get out. This was the tipping point for him. He knew he would either fall apart in that hotel room or pack up and move on, and Niki chose to leave.

***

4:36 p.m. Roxanne: Are you alright? Please let me know you’re okay. That looked like a hell of a crash.

8:21 p.m. Roxanne: I know you’re busy, but let me know you’re alright. I’m worried about you.

At 10:03 p.m. and with no response she decided to take matters into her own hands. If Niki wouldn’t respond to her texts then she would go see him. Roxanne threw on a complimentary hotel robe and marched down to his room. She pounded on the door, hoping for it to open. Maybe he would smile and pull her into a kiss like he had the night before, insisting he was all good and she shouldn’t worry so much.

No answer. No sweet “Hey, Schatz,” like there had been the night before. Luca, recognizable with his customized Ferrari jacket, stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his room. He noticed her, waiting by Niki’s door, and took pity despite now knowing who she was. With her defeated look he figured she wanted to find Niki.

“If you’re looking for Niki, he left already.”

He left? Her confusion showed on her face with her brow furrowing and her eyes suddenly wide.

“He packed up after the race and headed out. I think his flight left about an hour or so ago.”

“Thank you,” Roxanne stammered. He left, without telling her if he was okay, without telling her he was leaving, without any warning at all. Alone, she walked back to her hotel room.

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Tag List: @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @lieutenantn

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kerra-and-company · 3 years

Text

spiral

The first three months after Zhaitan’s defeat. (Or, the story of how the person widely considered “the best at emotions” was once absolutely horrible at managing her own.)

Warnings: depression, self-harm (in a very Kerra-specific way), feeling worthless, cognitive distortions (Kerra gets an idea into her head that is just...inaccurate)

Word count: 4466

I’ve been trying to work on this fic for a while, and it’s been really hard because Kerra’s my OC whose mental health issues are closest to my own. But it’s done now, and I’m sure it’s not perfect, but I’m proud of it, and it means a lot to me. So, here you go; hopefully this speaks to someone else, too.

(and @mystery-salad because forever ago you mentioned that you’d be interested in seeing this fic concept if I ever wrote it!)

It happened in the span of a single moment.

Trahearne had finally, finally joined the party. Rel had gotten his lute from who knows where and was taking song requests. Destiny’s Edge was talking and laughing, and she even saw Caithe smile. Everywhere Kerra looked, her friends and the rest of the Pact were drinking, chatting, relaxing, or dancing.

And, for once, no one was watching her.

So she tilted her head back, letting the sun and confetti (who brought confetti?) cover her face, giggling at the unfamiliar touch of colorful paper scraps. She spun around, arms outstretched and eyes closed and, miraculously, managing not to hit anyone.

It was pure, utter joy combined with I’m done, I did what I was made for, I’m done and I can just be me—

Kill the dragon.

Kerra stumbled. That couldn’t be right. Zhaitan was dead, and her Hunt was—

Kill the dragon, her mind insisted.

The world didn’t stop. It would have been easier if it had. Instead, the celebration continued, with laughter and Rel’s music as omnipresent noise.

It took everything in her not to scream.

****

The Pact wanted to lift her up on a pedestal for what she’d done. And she didn’t deserve it, so she had to leave.

She wrote notes to each of her friends and left them near their things, going mostly unnoticed as she slipped out of the party. Thank you for everything you’ve done, she said. I am going to where I can help the most, and that’s not here right now. I’ll come back.

I love you.

****

Her first stop was Caledon.

Cern was pleased to see her and told her stories of his new recruits taking down a particularly large troll in the swamps. Tatli and Cueyatl welcomed her into the Hazupl camp, and a few sylvari were there, too, talking to the hylek young. Llew gave her updates on Astorea—the defenses were holding, though Nightmare Court attacks had increased of late.

The only place she stayed overnight, though, was the Weeping Isle. Eona hugged her, congratulated her, and asked after Rel. She gave bare-bones information, took care of some wave riders, and fell asleep in the same guest room she’d taken earlier that year.

In her dreams, she walked a bloody battlefield, utterly alone. She saw so many dead faces, along with the living who mourned their losses. With each one she spotted, a memory flashed. Minei and Cio screaming and fighting to get back into the fortress on Claw Island. Ceera calling her “Commander of death.” Elli’s expression as she tore into the Risen marksman. Tybalt imploring her to trust him. Trahearne asking the Pale Tree for forgiveness as they closed the gate to Fort Trinity. The hate in Tiachren’s eyes slowly turning to fear as he died.

And above it all, the incessant drumbeat of this is your fault, your fault, your fault. You were Commander and this wasn’t what you were meant for and so every death is on your head and yours alone because you made a mistake. You pursued the wrong Hunt, and you will look at what you’ve done.

The land and the bodies went up in smoke, and she welcomed the flames even as she burned, too.

Come morning, Eona found Kerra’s bed neatly made and the Commander herself long gone.

****

In Kessex, the bandits put a price on her head.

In Sparkfly, the krait learned to flee from her on sight.

In Brisban, the Inquest cursed her as their labs exploded.

Sometimes, those she helped asked for her name. She began introducing herself as Lin. It felt…maybe not right, but right-adjacent, and it gave her a sense of distance.

Sometimes, they asked her to stay—an asuran krewe who appreciated her particular brand of dragon expertise, a rough-edged gladium who saw a kindred spirit, and a small human boy who watched her train the Claypool militia with wide eyes, to name a few.

She never stayed more than a few days. It tore her apart each time.

She slept less and less.

****

Felix worried more about her with every passing day.

Kerra could feel it, and she wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t have the words to calm him.

“You can leave, dearheart, if this is too much,” she said once, softly. “You can leave if…if I’m too much.”

Not too much, never, Felix insisted, bumping his head into her thigh and letting out a deep purr. But you’re hurt. I want to help.

“You can’t.” It came out too sharp, and they both winced. “It’s…I’m not scratched, or stabbed, or corrupted. I didn’t break a bone.” I wish I had. I wish this pain was visible. I wish I had scars for all of them.

Some nights, she considered giving herself those scars.

That doesn’t make you not hurt, Felix insisted.

Kerra had nothing to say except but I deserve it, and she knew Felix wouldn’t want to hear that. So, she just pulled him onto her lap and against her chest, burying her face in his fur, eyes dry.

****

Her thoughts wouldn’t stop chasing each other in circles. Her Wyld Hunt pulsed at the back of her mind constantly, like the beginning of a headache.

Kill the dragon.

WHICH dragon? she’d scream back. It never answered, no matter how many times she asked.

But she could function on two hours of sleep a night. She could fight. She could help.

That’s all that mattered.

****

She stopped at the Black Citadel for provisions. She’d intended to avoid Rytlock, but one of his subordinates spotted her at a vendor’s stall and (as politely as possible) dragged her to his office.

“Commander!” Rytlock said, happily standing up and pushing his paperwork to the side. “Thought you were back at Fort Trinity.”

“I was,” Kerra said, just a little too shortly. “I’m on my way to Hoelbrak.” Not entirely false; she was indeed heading in that general direction.

“On foot?” Confusion. “You didn’t waypoint or take an airship?”

“I wanted to take the scenic route.” A small smirk, and, again, not entirely a lie.

“Fine by me.” Rytlock grinned, his smile very full of teeth. “Don’t suppose you’d care to help me take out a Flame Legion post before you leave?”

“I’d be happy to,” Kerra said, smiling back and inclining her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Felix followed close behind.

“Commander!” Rytlock shouted after her. He muttered something about “I was saying we’d go together,” but Kerra was halfway down the stairs by then and barely heard him.

The outpost was empty within three hours. Kerra was gone in four.

****

She’d stopped shielding her mind somewhere along the line. She couldn’t remember exactly when.

Emotions swirled through her, positive and negative and in-between. Most of them left, but their imprints remained.

She kept fighting. She kept killing, when necessary, and the pain grew and grew and grew. Her burden. Hers. Deserved, she thought.

She racked up invisible scars by the thousands.

****

As much as she told herself the pain was necessary, it also was exhausting—which is how she got her first serious injury since leaving Orr, forcibly bringing her spiral to a halt.

She was at Victor’s Point with a man named Gareth and his three children. Said children had performed some sort of ritual to summon a bear. The ritual instead managed to summon several dozen bears, and soon the homestead was overrun.

While Felix helped Gareth take down a particularly large bear, Kerra heard a scream from the nearby shed and whipped around, running as fast as her legs would carry her across the snow.

A child she hadn’t met yet, a small one with short white-blond hair, was cowering under a workbench. They held a pen in their right hand like a dagger, jabbing it in the direction of yet another bear trying to stick its head under the table. It growled at them, showcasing its set of sharp teeth.

Not wanting to risk hitting the child, Kerra unsheathed her dagger and leaped on top of the bear. But she’d underestimated its ferocity and overestimated her remaining strength, and it threw her off, slamming her into the stones of the nearby fireplace.

Holding her head, she tried to get up, but its claws gauged deep marks across her chest, and she dropped her dagger at the sudden spasm of pain. She scrambled backwards, shielding the child with her own body as they screamed. Felix roared somewhere in the distance.

She struggled to stay conscious as the bear reared up on its hind legs, trying to figure out if she could muster up enough energy to kick it in the stomach. But she didn’t have to.

A blue shield appeared around her—guardian magic, she thought deliriously. Logan? The mace that whacked the bear in the head was decidedly not Logan’s, though, and Logan wasn’t that tall, and his skin wasn’t that dark. But whoever this was, the child was safe.

“Hey, stay awake!” a voice called out urgently as her eyes slid shut. She heard a distinct crack in it and felt the owner’s concern for her. Funny, she thought in an unappreciated moment of irony, for them to care so much about someone they’ve never met.

****

Kerra must have dreamed, then, but all she remembered was what woke her up—yet another whisper of kill the dragondeep in the back of her mind.

She sat up with a jolt, nearly whacking her head on the beams above her.

Her savior was talking in hushed tones to Gareth nearby, but whatever they were saying was immediately drowned out by Felix, who meowed loudly and started purring at the top of his lungs. He gently butted his head against her shoulder. Thank you for staying. Don’t leave.

“I’m—” she coughed, clearing her throat and trying to ignore what felt like the worst headache of her life. “I’m okay, ‘Lix, I’m okay, I’m still here.” She gently laid a hand on his flank, and he turned his head and licked it with his rough tongue, making her laugh weakly and then wince as the action sent a flare of pain through her body.

“You sure you’re okay?” her mysterious savior said, approaching her bedside. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I heal fast,” Kerra said, meeting their eyes. They were tall, but their face was young. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” the tall child said. “I’m Braham, he/him. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lin. She/her is fine. It’s nice to meet you, too.” A memory slotted into place, and she gasped, frantically looking around for her weapons. “Are the children all right? How long was I unconscious?”

“Easy!” Gareth said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he approached. “Yes, all the children are safe, and you were only out for about an hour or so.” He coughed meaningfully, and a snow-blond head peeked out from around his legs. “Mikkel is a bit shy, but he wanted me to thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mikkel,” Kerra said, her eyes softening as they met the child’s. “You were very brave, you know.”

The boy squeaked and hid again behind his father’s legs. Gareth just laughed. “I daresay he was! But that thanks comes from me as well, young one. We were lucky to have you with us today.”

“The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary, Gareth,” Kerra replied, dipping her head a few inches. When she lifted it back up—slowly, struggling against the pounding in her head—she found Braham looking at her curiously. But he shook his head, seemingly dislodging whatever thought he’d had, and nodded.

“I’m glad you’re okay and that I could help, but I gotta get going,” he said, standing up.

“Where are you headed?” Kerra asked, leaning back slightly against the pillows.

“Hoelbrak,” Braham answered, frowning. “I need someone to help me defend my hometown, Craigstead—it’s been invaded by some group calling themselves the Molten Alliance. I figured asking Knut Whitebear was worth a shot.”

Kerra frowned, too, both at Braham’s words and at the implication of his tension and fear. “Who else did you ask?” And why didn’t you try Hoelbrak first?

“Tribune Brimstone. He didn’t believe me.”

“What didn’t he believe?”

Braham’s face closed, but she could feel his flare of anger; it wasn’t directed at her, though, not really. “With all due respect, sylvari, it’s not really your business—”

“I know Rytlock,” Kerra interrupted, ignoring Gareth’s shock and the way Mikkel’s eyes lit up. And though the last thing she wanted was to go back to Rytlock or any of her friends and hurt them again… “I can help; I’ve convinced him to get off his…behind…before. Let me help. What didn’t he believe? That your town was under attack?”

She could tell Braham wasn’t quite convinced that she was being honest, but he sighed and shrugged. “That, and the fact that my full name is Braham Eirsson. My mother—” He said the word with a disgust Kerra didn’t understand. “—is Eir Stegalkin.”

Kerra blinked. “Your mother is who?”

Braham crossed his arms. “You heard me.”

“No, I did, and I believe you—sorry. I just…” She trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “I know your mother, too, then. And I’m aware that I can’t move much at the moment, but if Whitebear doesn’t agree to help you, come back and find me. Either I’ll convince someone to help you, or I’ll do it myself.”

Surprise mixed with persistent disbelief and gratitude. “Okay, then. You’re an odd one, Lin.”

She laughed, dry and short, absorbing the flicker of pain that came with it. “So I’ve heard.” As he headed to the door, she added, “You better come back and at least let me know how things go, okay?”

It was Braham’s turn to laugh, though his was more sincere. He did a goofy half-bow-half-salute and said lightly, “You’ll be on my way, so sure thing, boss.”

****

Kerra wanted to leave. Gareth and his wife and his children were absolutely lovely, and she didn’t deserve any of it. But she was trapped in bed, healing. Careless.

She slept most of the time, waking up only to eat and pet Felix and thank Mikkel for bringing her water. Part of her wished she could just stay asleep, and part of her was absolutely desperate to move, to get out, to go anywhere but here where she was a burden and could do nothing. Always, constantly, back and forth.

I need to move.

You can’t.

I need to help.

You can’t do that, either.

I need to be worth something.

But you’re not.

I need you to shut up.

But I won’t.

I…I need my friends. And I need Trahearne and Caithe.

But you left them. They’re probably all angry with you.

You don’t know that.

And even if they’re not, you don’t deserve them.

…

Am I wrong?

****

On her fourth day at Victor’s Point, Kerra received a visitor.

Raised voices outside woke her. She rolled over to face the door, bringing her knees closer to her chest under the blankets.

“—asked you to state your business, sylvari.” Gareth’s voice. He was on edge and slightly angry.

“And I told you, I’m looking for Kerra. Is she here or not?”

Kerra’s eyes flew open in shock and recognition.

“There is no one by that name staying here,” Gareth replied. “I strongly suggest you try the next homestead.” A feeling of preparedness, as if his hand was on the hilt of his weapon.

Before she could think it through, Kerra called out, “Nisha?”

A brief scuffle and a shout, and the door banged open. Nisha’s clothes looked wrinkled, though still passably clean, and xe stood as tall as ever. And xe was scared and upset and relieved and so many other things that Kerra didn’t have the brainspace to work through.

Felix, however, didn’t have that problem. He leapt forward, and a very startled Nisha caught him in xyr arms. Xe stumbled backward into Gareth, who burst out laughing, animosity gone.

“Well, all right then! Lin, I see you know this person. Is it fine if I leave you two…” He glanced at a very loudly purring Felix, eyes twinkling. “Or you three to catch up?”

Nisha’s gaze caught hers and locked in, like the sight on one of xyr rifles.

Say yes.

Say no.

Say yes.

Say no. Say NO.

“Yes,” Kerra choked out, quiet but audible.

“Wonderful! I’ll be outside if you need me.” The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Silence for a few beats. Three, two, one.

Kerra took a deep breath and straightened, sitting up fully. “Hey,” she said tentatively.

Nisha gently set Felix down, a fierce edge in xyr eyes. Felix curled up next to the bed, eyes darting between the two.

“Hey?” Nisha repeated incredulously. “Hey?!”

Kerra flinched, and Nisha snapped xyr mouth shut with an audible click. When xe spoke next, xyr tone was flat. “Where have you been, exactly?”

“Helping people,” was all Kerra could say.

Nisha exhaled, frustration seeping off xem in waves. “My apologies. I should have phrased that better. Why did you leave Fort Trinity?”

“To help people,” Kerra repeated, helplessly.

“Why couldn’t you help people there?! I-I—” Nisha’s face twisted, though Kerra could see xem struggling to hide it. “You left us! And you didn’t say where you were going, not even to Trahearne or Caithe or my brother.” Xyr hand clenched into a fist, gripping and bunching up the fabric of xyr pants.

She had let them down. They were mad—at least Nisha was, and if xe was, probably everyone else was, too. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she started, “I’m s—”

“Do you have ANY idea how SCARED we were?!” Nisha shouted.

Kerra’s world screeched to a halt.

Wait. What?

“We could have lost you, and we would have had no way of knowing! You could have died, or disappeared, and none of us would have been able to do anything to stop it! We were terrified for you! And not because you’re not capable,” xe added hastily, brushing away tears on xyr own cheeks, and she’d made Nisha cry, she’d done that to xem, she’d hurt xem— “You are perhaps the best fighter I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean you can’t die.”

Something cracked in Kerra’s heart.

“Why do you—what about all the people who died because of me?” she shouted back, her voice breaking. She threw herself out of bed and onto her feet, the blankets falling in a disorganized tangle behind her. “What about them?”

“What—we were fighting an Elder Dragon! People were going to die!” Both of Nisha’s fists were clenched now. “And I hate that, but it’s the truth! If you’re saying that you think we could have made it all the way to Zhaitan with no casualties—”

“No, no, I’m not, I—all their deaths are my fault!” Kerra’s tone made Felix’s ears flatten, and she ignored Nisha’s rush of utter shock. “I don’t understand why you’d want to find me!”

“Why in Tyria would they all be your fault?” Xyr brow furrowed, and xe took one step towards her. “I disagree with the basic principle, but even if the deaths were entirely on the Pact leadership, shouldn’t they also be Trahearne’s—”

“NO!”

“Why not?!”

“BECAUSE I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THE COMMANDER!”

The room went dead silent. Kerra abruptly realized she was breathing hard and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I was given a Wyld Hunt to fight and kill a dragon, Nisha,” she said, staring down at her hands. “The Pale Mother and Caithe both told me that the dragon was Zhaitan, but it clearly wasn’t, because Zhaitan is dead, and my Wyld Hunt is very much still there. Which makes this the wrong path for me, and therefore every action I’ve taken that’s led to where we are, with so many dead, is my fault. I should have figured out I was targeting the wrong dragon, I should have done better, I should have…” She trailed off, overwhelmed.

Silence again. When Kerra looked up, she met Nisha’s eyes, staring directly into hers. Sadness. Anger. Frustration.

Xe cleared xyr throat twice before speaking. “You write your own future, Ker. You’re not beholden to that one.”

“But Mother told me—”

“Mothers can be WRONG!” The fabric of Nisha’s coat tore with a soft ripping sound. But just like with Braham, the anger wasn’t directed at Kerra.

“I was given this Hunt by the Dream!”

“Shoots and thorns!” Nisha yelled, xyr voice cracking. “Why are you so certain you chose wrong, that you made some sort of mistake? You can still complete your Hunt! You can go after all the dragons! And you know why you have that option?” Desperation. Determination. “Because of everything you’ve done, because you’re the Commander, whether or not your Mother and the Dream originally thought you should be! You took down Zhaitan! You proved that Elder Dragons can be defeated, and now you don’t have to fight them alone!”

Xe took a deep breath. “Yes, people died, and it’s horrible.” New tears pooled in xyr eyes. “I…I still miss Sieran. But their deaths are not all your fault, and you saved so many lives, too, and…and I brought these.”

Xe shrugged off xyr pack and fiddled around inside it, pulling out a stack of papers and dropping them on Kerra’s lap. She just blinked.

Nisha sighed, more out of frustration with xemself than with Kerra. “Can you just look at them, please?”

Kerra spread out the papers, making sure to catch a few stray sheets before they fell to the floor.

They were notes, every single one of them written in a different hand. In a quick scan, Kerra saw Caithe’s graceful but clear cursive, Elli’s “i's” dotted with little hearts, and Minei’s deliberately blocky print. She looked back up at Nisha.

“What…what are these?”

��It was Rel’s idea,” xe said, now looking anywhere but Kerra. She could feel xem trying to rein in xyr emotions, though it was a bit late for that. “You gave us all some, so he thought that, if I could find you, I should give you some from all of us.”

Words upon words upon words. Her eyes were drawn to them as if by a magnet.

From Demmi: Thanks for believing in me.

From Cio: You saw past the fire, and you’re one of the few.

From Trahearne: You are the reason I didn’t give up, little sister.

From Shashoo: Quaggan believes in you, Commander!

From Riel: You do good work, agent. Keep it up.

From Elli: Keep fighting, Kerry. You’re damn good at it.

From Minei: They’re not saying why we’re writing these, but you better come back so I can thank you in person.

From Caithe: You showed me new purpose, Valiant. Thank you.

From Rel: You’re my best friend, Ker, and I love you. Stay safe.

And there were more, from soldiers she’d talked to once or sparred with or comforted, and some from people she’d never met. They said thank you and you led us to victory and you saved me and you were a friend when I needed one and many, many variations.

Nisha coughed, and when xe spoke, xyr voice was thick. “I didn’t write one. I’m not a writer. But thank you, Kerra. You’re the third friend I’ve ever made, and I’m so glad I met you.”

“Can I hug you?” Kerra blurted, nearly cutting xem off. She didn’t expect xem to say yes, but she desperately hoped—and then the notes were being carefully placed on the desk, and Nisha was next to her on the bed with xyr arms around her, and Felix was purring loudly from his spot on the floor as he told her I love you, too.

Kerra hugged xem back tightly, hiding her face in xyr shoulder, and they stayed that way until both their shirts were soaked with tears.

****

An indeterminable amount of time later, Kerra pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t do this on my own, you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards. I can’t go back alone. I won’t feel better if I’m alone. I need help, and I need my friends, and maybe that’s okay for me, too, just like it’s okay for everyone else. She met Nisha’s eyes. “Will you stay with me?”

“I just found you,” Nisha said, quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kerra smiled in earnest, then. “Good. Because you can’t do this alone, either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nisha said, eyebrows raising. Surprise. Indignance. Acceptance.

“Neither of us are okay,” Kerra said, thinking of Nisha shouting about mothers (and Nisha shouting at all, when xe always stayed so composed). “And we have other people—other friends, our siblings—but…” She felt her glow flare, warming her face. “I’ll help you, when you need it, and you’ll help me when I need it. That’s the deal.”

“I wasn’t aware we were making a deal.” Amusement. Warmth.

Kerra dipped her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “We are.” Her smile grew. “You know,” she said cheekily, “you really shouldn’t question your Commander—”

“You are aware that I’m not technically part of the Pact, right?” Nisha interrupted.

It was barely even a joke, but it shattered whatever tension remained. Kerra burst into slightly broken (but still genuine) laughter, the calm after the storm. She felt Nisha’s happiness and saw xyr grin, and it pushed back the flood farther.

It was just enough. For the first time in weeks, she pulled up her shields, shutting the world’s emotions out. It was a relief and a letting go, and she almost started crying again, but Nisha’s presence held her together.

She was far from okay—the drumbeat of it’s all your fault and the Hunt’s repetition of kill the dragon were still very much there in her head. But people cared about her. She had proof of that, though she still didn’t understand it. She was important to them, so she had to keep herself safe.

Maybe someday she’d be able to do that just for herself.

For now, she’d take the help, and she’d start to heal. And when Braham came back, she’d leave, with Nisha.

But it was all right to stay here, just for now. She was safe, and she was loved.

And she felt like she was home.

#gw2 #my fics #kerralind #nishannai #please do heed the warnings folks #guild wars 2

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ororowrites · 3 years

Text

Stripped - (Yahya x Black OC)

Sweet Thang Series - Chapter 2

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,735

One-Shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1

By the end of the first song, Candace was in her comfort zone. Yahya never let his eyes leave her and she no longer felt shy. The club had rules about no touching but Candace suddenly wanted this man’s hands all over her. Those long fingers and smooth brown skin were doing things to her. Maybe it was the liquor making her horny over a man she didn’t even know.

Little did Candace know, Yahya had thoughts racing in his mind too. He couldn’t stop thinking about her petite body under his or how her lips would feel on him. Candace was a beautiful woman and something about her intrigued Yahya. When she straddled his legs and began to grind on his lap, the urge to touch her grew. The scent of her perfume was as intoxicating as her hips, almost putting a spell on him.

It must have been the alcohol that gave Candace the courage to make her next move. She could feel his breath on her lips before they were interrupted by the dance timer. The euphoria they had experienced quickly disappeared as they fell back to Earth.

“Shit, sorry,” Candace apologized, swinging her legs to the floor. Yahya became any other customer and she held her hand out to collect her payment. “Thank you. You enjoy the rest of your night.”

Yahya opened his mouth but Candace was already heading out the door, stuffing the bills in her bra.

-------

Well into the next morning, Yahya was still thinking about the mystery girl from the club. He’d been to many strip clubs and never felt a connection with any of the ladies he encountered. Something about her grabbed him and sucked him in and had her on his mind hours later.

“You still stuck on that hoe from the club.” Damon lit his blunt and relaxed his head against the back of the sofa. “Nigga, we ain’t taking you to the club again.”

“Word on the street is that the shawties at Dynasty have golden pussy or some shit,” his brother added with a drug induced chuckle.

“Respect the ladies, man. Being a stripper doesn’t make them hoes. And Kevin that’s enough kush for you. Golden pussy? Really,” Yahya snatched the blunt from his friend and put it back in the ashtray.

“Aight, let me respect the skrippas. But still, you don’t know her. What if she’s crazy? You will be going back home tomorrow night and no tellin’ when you’re coming back to LA, so why does it matter,” Damon explained.

“Both of ya’ll are some fucking haters. Trash asses.” Yahya grabbed his phone and took his troubles to the balcony. Kevin and Damon were great friends but their childish, misogynistic antics got on his nerves when he was around them. At times, he felt like he was outgrowing them, even though he still considered them brothers he never had. While he was looking to settle down sooner rather than later, they were stuck in the same phase they were in throughout high school and college and it appeared to be a never ending cycle.

Was it ridiculous to think that the stripper he met at the club was the one? Yep. But, that didn’t keep Yahya from wishing he could see her again before he was back to the reality of being jobless.

-------

“Are you sure you saw him with her?” The very question had Candace’s heart pounding against her chest. Natalie, Maxwell’s ex-girlfriend, had entered the picture again after Candace thought her dropping out of school was the blessing they needed. Now with her back in California via North Carolina, she had access to Maxwell as did he to her.

“Sis, would I lie to you? I saw that bastard with her in the Commons. Took everything out of me not to run up on them and start whooping ass,” Trinity said, fuming on her sister’s behalf. Truth be told, she never liked Maxwell and knew the type of guy he was from the beginning. Maxwell was charming and had the ability to make any girl weak in the knees. Especially a woman like her sister that was in love with being in love.

Anger built from the pits of her stomach. Feelings of betrayal had never quite faded since they had made up and she ignored it in the name of love. “Did he see you?”

“Nope. But I’ll make myself seen when it comes to my sister. Candy, why are you still trying to make things work with this immature, cheating ass, motherfucker? I try to hold my tongue like you ask but I refuse to hold it again. You’re too good for him.” When it came to family. Trinity was the sister that would physically fight for her siblings. At times, Candace admired her sister’s tenacity and wished she wasn’t as timid when it came to relationships with people. That was one negative trait that kept Candace anchored to people that did not deserve her time.

“I honestly don’t know.” Tears began to form in Candace’s eyes as the shame set in for her. She knew Maxwell was no good for her but he always found a way back into her heart. “I’m...um...I’m going to talk to him.”

“Candace,” Trinity called out, noticing her sister’s emotions getting the best of her. “Please don’t cry over that man. Please.”

If only Candace knew her worth.

-------

Candace took the scenic route to Maxwell’s apartment, playing different scenarios in her head on the way. If she murdered him, where would she hide the body? Did she just hit him with questions or soften him up first?

None of those scenarios played out once Candace reached her destination and was met by Natalie in the hall outside Maxwell’s apartment. The three of them froze, each of them searching for words to break up the awkward moment.

“I should get going. I’ll call you when I get home,” Natalie mumbled, lowering her eyes and pushing past Candace.

“I knew that apology was a lie and you were full of shit,” Candace spoke through clenched teeth. She was taught to never put her hands on anyone and it took a strong prayer to keep her fists at her sides. “What the hell is Natalie doing here and don’t even think about lying.”

Maxwell didn’t even put up a fight. Besides, after the news he had learned, he didn’t have the energy to lie or smooth talk his way out of this one.

“What was she doing here, Maxwell?”

“Natalie’s pregnant,” he replied, leaning against the wall across from Candace. He watched as his girlfriend’s face fell blank. “I fucked up and I’m sorry for that. You don’t deserve the shit I put you through.”

Still lost for words, Candace slid down the wall until her rear hit the concrete floor. Pregnant. That had to be the final straw, right? The game they had been playing for the past three years had come to a tragic end that Candace feared.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I know I stay apologizing but I mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Maxwell kept his distance. “Did what?”

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, this would have stopped after the first incident. But I gave you chance after chance and you still didn’t fucking stop. I’m done, Max. I can’t put myself through this shit because it’s obvious you won’t stop. I’m foolish to even think you would,” Candace spoke in a hushed tone, never raising her voice or releasing the tears that threatened to fall.

“I’m-”

“I don’t wanna hear another one of your tired excuses. I sure the hell hope your dick is clean. I’ll come back for my shit another day.”

“Candy, come on-”

“Move! Don’t fucking touch me.” Blood rushed to Candace’s face as the embarrassment set in and she could no longer look Maxwell in the eye. This relationship had become a part of her identity and she allowed it to consume her so much that she forgot to love herself. “We’re done, Maxwell.”

Candace ignored the apologies and groveling. A weight lifted off her shoulders and she didn’t intend to put it back ever again.

------

Yahya had one more day to enjoy Los Angeles before he had to return to San Francisco to figure out his next move. He was desperate to burn off steam and decided to hit the park for a workout. The skies were clear, granting Yahya a good dose of vitamin D while he ran the steps. He pushed himself to do one more set before taking a lap around the trail for a cool down. Yahya was so focused, he didn’t notice Candace approaching him from the opposite sidewalk.

“Hey...wassup,” he said, removing his headphones when he finally saw the brown beauty in his path.

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d run into one of my customers...ever,” Candace chuckled nervously. The breakup had her emotions all over the place and gave her the bravado to approach a man from the club. Keeping those two lives separate was important to her except in that moment.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t want to think of myself as your customer. That’s a little weird,” Yahya admitted, earning a nod from Candace in agreement. “But since we’re outside of your job, can I get your real name?”

“Candace.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Candace. I’m Yahya.”

A short, awkward moment of silence gave Candace time to get a better look at the man she had danced on in a dark strip club. Beautiful dark brown skin covered a body that looked like it was sculpted with the utmost care. If you looked up tall, dark and handsome in the dictionary, Yahya’s picture would be used as the definition. Once her eyes traveled back up to his face, his bright, white smile captured her and held on for dear life. The man was fine and seeing him in the light had Candace acting like a shy, school girl.

“You live around here,” Candace asked, breaking the silence.

“No, I’m visiting my boys from back home. I’m living in San Francisco right now. I go back tomorrow evening,” he explained, looking Candace over. She was petite compared to his 6′3 frame. “You?”

“I’m from Chicago but moved here to go to school. Trying to live the dream, ya know?”

“I hear that,” Yahya nodded. “Well Candace, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we ran into each other. Would you like to get a recovery smoothie with me? My treat. Unless you’re still in the middle of your workout.”

“I can cut out early. I know a good smoothie spot not too far from here if you don’t mind walking.”

Yahya’s smile grew, “Sounds like a plan, let me put on a shirt.”

Or not, Candace thought to herself.

--------

After the ice was broken, Candace and Yahya began to enjoy each other’s company. The break-up earlier that day was still on Candace’s mind, but she felt at ease being around Yahya. Sure, they didn’t know one another on a deep level, yet she could sense Yahya’s compassion. When she spoke, his eyes stayed on her and he truly listened. One thing that irked her about Maxwell was his inability to listen below the surface level.

“That’s too bad. Many of these fellas out here don’t appreciate their lady until she’s gone.” Maxwell sounded like many men Yahya knew and the type of man his parents raised him not to be. He could see the hurt in Candace’s face when she described what had led up to the end of their relationship.

“Yeah, it’s just a shame I wasted my time and my heart on a guy that didn’t want to protect it.”

“His loss, your win.”

Dumping personal information on a stranger was not how Candace usually moved, nonetheless it felt good. “I’m sorry for treating you like a therapist.”

“Nah, you’re good. You had a rough day. I don’t mind listening.”

“Thanks, but I wanna hear more about you. What do you do in expensive ass San Francisco,” Candace quizzed, sipping her raspberry/banana smoothie.

Yahya hoped telling Candace about his unemployment wouldn’t ruin his chances. He still hadn’t shared the news with anyone else. “I was a City Planner for the Mayor’s office but I was laid off on Friday. I honestly don’t even know what the hell I’m going to do when I go back home.”

One of Candace’s strongest traits was her empathy. She had no issue stepping into a person’s shoes and feeling what they felt. Those that were worthy enough to spend time with her felt Candace’s warmth right away. Yahya could feel it, which is why he felt comfortable sharing the news with her.

“I’m sorry, Yahya. Shit sucks when you get well into your career and your job is in another person’s hands,” Candace sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Are you thinking about staying there and getting another job?”

“To be honest, I need a change of scenery. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise because I think I got comfortable in my lifestyle. I loved my job but things were stagnant,” he explained, tracing the lettering on his smoothie cup. “Right now, I’m thinking about taking a break and figuring out what I want to do from there. I’ll get unemployment, so I’ll manage until I find another career that makes me happy.”

“That’s brave of you. I’m too damn scary and would need to have a plan right away. Good luck with that. You seem to be a determined man so you’ll find your way. I’m hoping I can graduate and get into Yale then we will see if I make a career out of this acting thing. If not, I’ll go back to school for education and teach theatre.”

“Wow, Yale? I did some acting classes back in the day and they seemed pretty cool. I don’t know if I have the talent to get into a school like Yale though. I need to work on my Denzel cry first.” The two shared a laugh and finished up their smoothies.

Time passed as their conversation ranged from discussing their childhoods to recent life events. They were so deep into discussion, they didn’t notice that two hours had gone by since they first arrived at the smoothie shop. Candace was more easy going than Yahya thought. That shy exterior had fallen down, exposing the sweet and funny side of her. Like many women in the stripping industry, her persona in the club was a lot different from her true self. He wished he could get to know more of that side.

They walked back towards the park, where their cars were parked on a side street. Yahya walked Candace to her Jeep and waited for her to load the backseat with her duffle bag.

“Thanks for the smoothie and talk. I needed that more than I thought,” Candace closed the back door and stood in front of the driver’s side door. “Dr. Yahya is a great listener, even though we’re complete strangers.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I wasn’t kidding about taking some acting classes with you when I’m in town,” he replied, flashing his wide grin.

“I’ll hold you to that Mr. Abdul-Mateen. Like I said, acting is like recess so it’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe you’re a natural at the shit.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see. I won’t hold you up, you should probably get home before it gets too dark. Text me when you make it.”

“Alright. Thanks again, Yahya. For real,” Candace’s soft curls blew over her face as the wind picked up.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for listening to me ramble. Get home safely and don’t forget to let me know.” Yahya leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Candace’s cheek. The simple act almost made her melt into a puddle in the LA street. Opening her car door, Yahya waved her inside. “Bye, Candace.”

“See you later.”

Candace drove away feeling like a new chapter of her life was on the horizon and she was ready to face whatever it had in store.

Taglist: @blackburnbook @just-peachee @emjayewrites

Want a tag? Let me know.

#yahya abdul-mateen ii #yahya x black oc #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #black writers #ororo writes

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apollothe-sungod · 2 years

Note

Hey there, my friend!!

OC ASKS: What would your OCs be like on a roadtrip? Which one would be in control of the music? In charge of buying snacks? Who's driving and who called shotgun? Do they prefer to drive down the back roads in the country, passing meadowes? Do they like to drive up the mountains and pass through the rainforests? Or do they enjoy the beachfront view? What kind of music do they listen to on the drive?

Stuff like that!

a/n: why hello there! i'm so sorry this is late, but here it is! i did some headcanons, and a small oneshot :)

HOW THEY ARE ON A ROADTRIP

ft. Apollo, Karasu, and Kyoufu

➢ Karasu is driving. No matter how much the other two begs, he knows they'll either get lost or get in a crash. He's the only one responsible enough.

➢ All three go on a snack-run before, probably at some random gas station.

➢ Apollo probably gets gummy worms, jolly ranchers, a honeybun, and a monster (the white ones)

➢ Kyoufu gets a blue slushie, a bunch of random candy, and somehow found a corndog.

➢ Karasu is the only "healthy" one, he got some sweet tea, water, a tiny bit of candy, and some beef jerky. He did sneak a monster, though. He paid for most of it but forced the other two to put at least some money in.

➢ Apollo and Kyoufu definitely felt bad because it was quite a bit of money, and both paid for all of it, to Karasu's surprise.

➢ Apollo is choosing the music. While it will be all over the place, first sad music, then happy music, and then love songs, and back to sad music, he has impeccable music taste.

➢ Kyoufu called shotgun, and Apollo was about to literally fight him for it. Then, he realized he'd have the entire back seat to himself, and finally accepted.

➢ The three would for sure always go the way where the view is amazing. Even if it was longer. If it was really long, since both Apollo and Karasu have wings, either one could just fly near the car for a while. (Karasu would pull over and make the more responsible one, Kyoufu, drive).

➢ Kyoufu would just make them stop in a meadow, or maybe a forest to stretch his legs, and Karasu stops and says they'll wait for him, but they all end up getting out.

➢ As I said, they probably would go through the most pretty and scenic route, so they would most likely take a beachfront view if they had it. However, if they needed to get there fast, they're good at finding shortcuts.

➢ If their car breaks down, Apollo would probably fly to get help, or Kyoufu would fix the tire. Karasu is the most responsible, but overall, Kyoufu's probably the smartest.

➢ As I said, Apollo's music taste is all over the place, but I made a playlist that seems like something he'd play, I'll put the link below this. It's mostly just random songs he found on his recommended.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4cqVuWkcFmFJGDX8FeKShO?si=773cc4a72bd94153

Roadtrip

"C'mon Kara! I wanna go!" Apollo whined, as Karasu was getting some blankets, pillows, and other items for the 10-hour road trip they were about to go on. It was currently 6:34 PM, meaning they would get there –including traffic and stops– at about 7 AM. While Apollo didn't have the best sleep schedule, and would probably stay up all night, Kyoufu needed sleep. Karasu rolled his eyes and chuckled softly, his wings ruffling in amusement. "The cabin isn't going anywhere, Ry." The tall man smiled, ruffling Apollo's hair, to his dismay.

"Don't call me Ry!" Apollo huffed in irritation. Karasu ignored the statement, checking off his mental list. "Do you have your stuff?" Karasu asked him. Apollo narrowed his eyes in thought. "OH! I need to get my sketchbooks and books!" Karasu sighed. "Go get them and put them in your backpack, Kyoufu's ready and in the car, so we'll go once you got those." He said, going back to making sure they had everything. At the words, Apollo ran off –nearly tripping– back to his room to get them.

~~~~~

The three were in the car now, Apollo having lost the battle for shotgun. He was currently scrolling through Twitter, cuddled in a blanket, his playlist on the radio. Kyoufu was relaxing and listening to music, watching the passing people, buildings, and landscapes. Karasu was currently driving, but still enjoyed the view of the sunset. The pink, purple, and reds of the sky all coming together, holding onto the last bit of day they had left before the gloomy, yet beautiful time of the night crept in.

Apollo sighed with boredom, putting his phone down, taking a pillow, and laying down. Karasu noticed, and smiled. "There's a gas station at the next street, wanna stop and get some snacks?" He asked. "YES!" Apollo and Kyoufu yelled at the same time. Karasu nodded and chuckled, pulling into the gas station.

~~~~~

"You're not getting a monster." Karasu huffed. "But they taste so good! Pleeease?" Apollo begged, giving him the most tragic face ever. "Fine." Karasu sighed, much to Apollo's excitement. Kyoufu ran over to the three. "Where did you find those?" Karasu raised an eyebrow at the egg roll bag Kyoufu was holding. He looked down at his hands where he was holding the bag, and then back up at the blonde. "I'll never tell," Kyoufu stated, walking over to the cash register. Karasu sighed, grabbing a few more waters, and walking to the cash register.

As the cashier checked out the items, Karasu turned to the two talking and laughing. "You two are paying for some of it, it's our food," Karasu stated. "Fiine." Apollo sighed. "That will be $12.65" The cashier said, their voice uninterested and monotone. Apollo and Karasu frowned at each other, and Apollo put a 10, while Kyoufu put a 5. Karasu raised his eyebrow. "Are you sure you wanna pay for all of that?" he asked. The two nodded. "Keep the change." Kyoufu nodded, taking the bag with a smile.

~~~~~

After they started driving, the car was filled with laughs, terrible singing, music, awful jokes, and conversations.

-THE END.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed! Again, sorry it's late, but i did my best! <3 (not me posting this at like 12am-)

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zaffrenotes · 4 years

Text

[TRR] Tempt-est

Book: The Royal Romance Pairing: Serendipity Liam x Trina Rating/Warnings: 18+ NS*W 🍋LEMON ALERT 🍋 smut + fluff = SMUFF Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * OCs are my creation * 31 days of ficlets and one shots using Jasmine’s Situational Summer Prompts – Thunderstorm * This wraps up my Summer writing challenge and occurs post-Serendipity series (which I know I still have to finish 😬) * thank you Sooty for pre-reading and helping me through a bit of writer’s block * Word Count: +/- 3600

Taglist: @ao719 @blackcatkita @debramcg1106 @loveellamae @smalltalk88 @thecordoniandiaries // @aestheticartsx @aworldoffandoms @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @choiceskatie @darley1101 @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @hopefulmoonobject @isporticus1234 @jovialyouthmusic @leelee10898 @liamxs-world @rainbowsinthestorm @riseandshinelittleblossom @superharriet @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @the-soot-sprite

The morning blurred by, much like the scenic drive north to the lake house. Azure skies stretched far into the horizon, marred only by the occasional puff of cloud. Eyes trained on the road, Liam smiled softly when he felt Katrina’s hand atop his, hearing her hum along to a song on the radio as she sat beside him.

Six weeks of summer were quickly coming to an end, and in just a few days they would have to go back to New York for the fall semester. Liam wanted nothing more than to spend an infinite number of weeks by the lake with Katrina. He’d never really planned a future with someone before – certainly not when he was with Madeleine, nor with anyone from his previous relationships; but he could see something with Katrina. It was still hazy in his mind, unfocused, but bright – like the good part of a dream that makes you smile in your sleep.

It gave him an overwhelming sense of calm.

Maybe it was young love. Maybe he was falling in love, for the first time in his life. Right now, Liam didn’t care either way; he just knew that the happy days since meeting Katrina far outweighed the unhappy days. He wanted to do the same for her.

They arrived at his family’s lake house just before lunch. The plan was to drop off their things and take the boat out on the lake for a picnic on the water, but Leo had managed to put a wrench in their plans without even being present. After several text messages, Leo confessed that he’d taken the boat across the lake to pick up his date, rather than taking the long way around by car or bike.

Katrina suggested setting up a table by the water would be just as nice, but Liam was determined to make their last weekend there extra special. He packed up their lunch and asked her to get back in the truck, and they were on the road again, to an undisclosed location.

“Li, where are you taking us?” Katrina scanned the road ahead of them, though it was pointless; trees flanked either side of them, and there were barely any road signs.

“Somewhere special,” Liam answered. “A place I used to go to on my own, whenever Leo was too much of a handful, and I just wanted a place to sit and think.”

“So, all the time then?”

Liam chuckled. “A few times a week. Sometimes twice a day if no one else was around while we were up here.”

Eventually Liam veered off the main road, onto a single lane path through the trees. He rolled to a stop when they came to a clearing by the water. A nervous smile made the edges of his mouth twitch, and he looked over to see Katrina’s reaction.

Her eyes widened with awe, and there was a warm grin on her lips. “Liam, this is beautiful,” she marveled, turning her head to the left and right to take in the view of the lake.

“Not as beautiful as my view right now.”

Katrina’s cheeks warmed and she tipped her head down in amusement, before casting a look to him. “You’re so cheesy sometimes,” she giggled. “It’s cute.”

Liam grinned shyly at her. “I couldn’t help myself.” He reached over the console and laced his fingers with hers. Katrina turned in her seat, gently stroked the side of his face, and leaned in to kiss him. She made a choking noise instead, pulled back by the locking mechanism on the seatbelt, and Liam laughed as she struggled to hit the button to disengage the clip, choosing instead to slip her arm over the belt to free herself. “My beautiful, adorable klutz.” He smiled at her as she shook her head in silent embarrassment.

“Just kiss me,” she giggled.

“As you wish.” Liam leaned over, gently wrapping his hand around the back of Katrina’s neck, and pressed his lips to hers. He felt a current in his chest surge through his body as so many of their kisses had done to him before, full of excitement, wanting, desire, and love. The tip of his nose brushed against hers as their heads tilted to new angles, playful nips shifting to long and tender kisses until they needed to come up for air. He pressed his forehead to hers as they caught their breath, noticing that Katrina trembled ever so slightly. “Hey,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

Katrina nodded silently, shy grin painted across her now swollen lips. “Yeah,” she whispered back. “Sometimes kissing you makes my head spin.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. You definitely should.” She pulled back and tucked her hair behind an ear. “Should we eat?”

“Have a look around, I’ll go set up lunch,” Liam replied.

They exited the truck and he gathered up their food and drinks. While Katrina walked to the edge of the water, Liam unpacked their lunch on one of the tables under the covered picnic area. He grinned, watching her slip her shoes off and gather up the hem of her long sundress in her arms to wade into the water.

They took their time having lunch together, with Liam telling stories about venturing to this spot as a child to clear his head as a young boy. He pointed out the tree he used to climb so he could sit over the water, and the spots where he’d wade in and skip stones. After a walk along the shoreline, they found themselves laying in the bed of the truck, staring up at the sky and talking about everything and nothing in particular.

“That one looks like Pooh bear’s pot of honey,” Katrina said, pointing to a cloud over her shoulder.

“I wish summer could last a little longer, or we could forget about the world for just a few more weeks.” Liam sighed and rested one hand over his stomach.

“That’d be nice. I wouldn’t mind being here for the Fall…with endless pots of tea and crackling fires, staying warm with you on a couch while the trees changed color.” Katrina inched her hand over the truck bed until she found Liam’s hand, and their fingers weaved together.

“That’s the dream,” Liam replied.

The warmth of the summer sun, coupled with full stomachs and the sound of the water lapping against the shore, lulled the pair into an unplanned nap, their hands still entwined as they slept. It was only when the air cooled around them that Katrina woke up, goosebumps trailing across her bare arms. She rolled her neck gently to either side, peeking at Liam with one eye as he slept, before she noticed the ominous grey clouds above them, followed by a rumble of thunder. “Liam…Liam,” she repeated, pulling her hand apart from his to shake his arm. “It looks like it’s gonna storm soon.”

Liam’s eyes shot open and he inhaled deeply, propping his elbows against the truck bed to sit up. Rubbing away the sleep from his eyes, he cast them skyward. “Yup, time to go, don’t want to get caught in that.” They cleaned up any remnants from lunch and hurried back into the truck, noticing how fast the storm clouds were rolling in as Liam sped back towards the house. The distant thunder shook something within them, each rumble and clap nipping at their heels.

Less than a mile from the house, the unmistakable sound of rain hitting steel snuck up from behind them, before a deluge surrounded the car and surged ahead of them. Liam pressed his foot on the brakes to slow down. They bobbed in their seats as he drove down the now mud-slicked path to the house, tires gripping for any semblance of dry earth underneath them. Liam’s arms tensed as he steered, tendons twitching to keep the car steady. He pulled to a stop as close as he could to the house, noticing Leo’s motorcycle nearby; the dock was empty and he hoped Leo would wait out the storm before returning on the boat. “Stay here, I’ll run in and get an umbrella for you.”

“It’s just rain, it won’t kill me,” Katrina teased. She unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the truck, shutting the door with a yelp before disappearing from view.

“Trina!” Liam exited the truck and ran around the front, rain pelting him from all directions. He found Katrina on the ground, laughing at herself as she sat in a massive mud puddle. “Don’t you dare!” he warned, noticing the mound of mud already in her hand.

“Try and stop me!” Katrina did her best to fling the mud at him, grazing the side of his shirt as he dodged out of the way. She held her arm up to let the rain wash the dirt away, and Liam pulled her up.

“What are you, five?” He pushed a few wet strands of hair off her forehead.

“Almost five and a half,” she smirked back. “You got a little something on your face.”

“What? Where?”

“Right…here!” Katrina dragged her other hand down Liam’s face, streaking it with mud. She backed away from him and took a few steps towards the house.

Liam tilted his head up, letting the rain wash off her handiwork, before scrubbing a hand down his face. He looked over to her and saw a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Now you’re gonna get it!” he yelled playfully, pouncing after her. Katrina yelped again and took off towards the house, but her speed was no match for his long strides; she shrieked with glee when his arm hooked around her waist, both of them toppling to the ground from the momentum. Katrina rolled over onto her back, arms pointed to the sky, with a huge smile on her face as it rained down on them. Liam simply grinned at her.

After a moment, he sat up and got to his feet, offering a hand to Katrina to pull her up. He pulled her close and leaned down to kiss her; softly at first, growing with need as the kiss deepened and he felt her hands bunch the fabric of his shirt on either side of his waist. They broke apart, Liam grasping her shoulders, when a thunderclap sounded off nearby. “We should probably get inside.”

Katrina startled again when another clap of thunder occurred, and she nodded emphatically. “Yup, yup, fun time’s over!”

“I think it’s just beginning,” Liam smirked. The pair of them ran towards the porch, slightly winded from their sprint for cover, and he tugged gently on her hand. With a small twirl and a nudge, Katrina sat on the small wicker settee, giggling up at Liam. He knelt down before her, dripping wet, telltale ember of heat smoldering in his eyes.

Katrina felt his hands on her ankles, nimble fingers moving up her calves, and her knees parted as he leaned closer, as his hands continued their northward journey. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation as Liam kissed one knee, then the other, pushing up her waterlogged skirt up her thighs, his lips warm against her chilled skin…when Liam pulled away and began to laugh softly. “I…” She stopped to scrutinize the look of amusement on Liam’s face. “You better have a good reason for laughing at me right now, Liam.”

Liam held up one of his hands defensively, the other clutched around his ribs as he laughed harder. He shook his head and tried to control what was now turning into a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezed between laughs. “You’re just…dirty.”

“What?”

Liam swiped two fingers against her inner thigh, holding them up to show Katrina. She gasped at the mud on his fingers, laughter bubbling up from her throat as she looked down at the stain on her dress from her fall into the mud puddle earlier. Liam wiped his hand clean on his equally stained pants and stood up, prying his shoes off in front of her, and started unbuttoning his jeans. Katrina’s eyes widened as he peeled the soaked denim from his legs, fishing his keys out of a pocket. He pulled his shirt over his head, wringing it in front of her as he stood there in just his underwear. “Strip,” he grinned, collecting his clothing.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just getting started with you, but we’re muddy and soaked,” he explained, helping her up. “I’m going to put our clothes in the washer,” he leaned down and kissed her temple, “and then you and I…” He paused to kiss her cheek, and the shell of her ear, “will clean up in the shower, so we can have sex until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“I…umm…” Katrina stammered, eyes fluttering closed as Liam continued to kiss his way down her neck. She slipped out of her sandals and moved to stand on the cushions to get closer to Liam’s height, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her fingers combed through Liam’s hair, grabbing fistfuls of it when his thumb began to rub circles over her breast, the sensation causing her sensitive skin to pebble and harden with arousal.

“Do you like my plan?” he hummed against her neck. Katrina nodded her head in response, arching her body so she pressed up against his chest. Liam pulled away, taking a small step back. “Arms,” he urged, tipping his chin at her. She raised her arms up, and Liam pulled the dress over her head, devilish grin on his face as he took in the sight of her in blue lace. He bent down and picked up his clothes and keys, turning back to kiss Katrina again, one hand moving to cradle her jaw. Katrina hopped down and picked up their shoes as Liam hurried to the front door and unlocked it, swinging it open. “Get inside and hop in the shower, I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Liam…Liam, wait,” Katrina panted, her hand splaying against the tiled wall. “We should…we should…get…” she panted again, hooking her leg around Liam’s thigh. “Ohmygod,” she moaned, and the leg she was standing on wobbled.

“Yes?” Liam hummed. His fingers dipped between Katrina’s folds as he held her upright.

“We can’t have shower sex,” she sighed against his face, nipping at his earlobe.

“Why not? We’re halfway there.”

“There’s a foot of difference between us, it’ll never work.”

Liam pulled away from Katrina’s neck and quirked his brow at her. “Hook your legs around me, I can use the wall for leverage.”

Katrina giggled through her sighs of pleasure. “We’re gonna fall,” she warned. “The soap, the water…I…ohhh,” she moaned into his ear. “You’re so good at that.”

“Hook your other leg, Love.” Liam’s voice was hoarse against her skin. “I can manage.”

Her resolve weakened by Liam’s actions, Katrina hopped and hooked her legs around his waist. He pressed her back into the tiling to steady himself, pulling his fingers from her, and lined the tip of himself against her warm folds, teasing her entrance as he balanced her weight on his hips. She hissed gently as she relaxed and lowered herself onto him, her own arms straining to keep herself up while they were wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and Liam’s mouth dropped open.

Then his foot slipped.

Liam widened his stance for balance, but Katrina unlatched her legs and set her feet down, pulling themselves apart. “See?” She ran her hands down the length of his torso, fingers trailing over hardened abs. Liam moaned softly when she wrapped her hand around him and slowly started to stroke his shaft. “I don’t want to stop, but I don’t want us to slip and fall, or worse,” she breathed, stroking him faster. “I don’t want to break anything and explain what happened to your parents. Or Leo, for that matter.”

The storm raged on outside, thunder roaring and rainfall so thick the world was just a blur of shapes and colors. The sounds of the storm muffled the moans coming from Liam’s bedroom. He watched as Katrina rode him, their bodies still damp from showering, wet tendrils of her hair clinging to her skin every time she tipped her head back or let it drop forward. His fingers dug deep into the smooth skin of her thighs, her hips grinding against his with every thrust, trying in vain to merge themselves together beyond physical limitations.

“You’re magnificent,” he breathed, gripping onto her hips. He pressed his thumbs against her hip bones and Katrina bit one side of her lip. The pace at which she moved was dizzying, and she arched her back, arms moving behind her so she could hold onto his thighs for balance. Spread out before him, he could only look on with quiet reverence at the sight of her naked form. “Fuck, Trina,” he uttered, eyes shifting to where their bodies were joined. He watched himself disappear inside her over and over again, feeling the contrast of her immense warmth and the coolness in the air each time she pulled away. “You’re soaking wet.”

Liam thrust his hips up as she ground herself down, and Katrina bucked forward. She steadied herself again, pressing her palms onto his chest, grinding against him harder and faster. He tucked her hair behind her ear, cupping her face for a moment, before he quivered at her efforts. She was practically bouncing on top of him, the length of him sliding in and out repeatedly. It was ecstatic agony as he tried not to find release from her actions. Liam slid a hand between her legs, his thumb rubbing circles against her clit, and she shuddered above him, quickening her pace. “Yes, Liam, yes,” she hissed between breaths. “I’m close, so close.”

“God, I love watching you,” he groaned softly. “You’re exquisite.”

“Kiss me, please,” she begged. “I’m nearly there.”

Liam sat up, digging his heels into the mattress for any form of leverage, and wrapped his arms around Katrina’s waist, pulling himself up. Her breasts bounced against his skin, and he tore himself away from them to gaze into Katrina’s eyes, wild and dark as the storm outside. He cradled the back of her head with one hand, fingers tangling in her raven locks, and he tugged on a handful of hair. She gasped in response, lips curling into a pleasant grin. “Come for me,” he whispered. “I love to hear you…fuck, I love you.” He crashed his lips into hers, putting all his love and passion into the movement, trying to express how much he loved her in the space between them. He pressed her body to his and kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip, and Katrina pulled away, pressing her cheek to his as he felt her inner walls grip the entirety of himself. His jaw ticked at the sensation, once again trying not to come before she did.

“Liam… LIAM!” She moaned into his ear as she came undone, hips moving against him like a woman possessed, walls pulsing as she saw heaven flash before her eyes. Her body stilled in the wake of her orgasm, breathing hard as everything came back into focus. She could hear the rain pouring down, and Liam’s labored breaths beneath her. Hips rocking back and forth again, a wicked grin flashed across her face and she dragged her nails down Liam’s back, earning a sharp hiss from him. Her body ached as she moved against him, and a pleasant throbbing began to build between her legs once more. She sucked on his earlobe and whispered in his ear. “Your turn now.”

With a tiny growl, Liam grabbed hold of Trina’s waist and rolled on top of her, driving himself as deep as he could inside the divine space between her legs. Her back arched off the mattress in response, and she dragged her nails up and down his arms, leaving tiny, ragged trails with each pass. The only conversation between them was the sound of sharp panting and rapid breathing, eyes on the other full of love and lust.

He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you,” he huffed. The grin on his face was nearly bashful.

“I love you too,” she murmured. Katrina folded her leg up and Liam hiked her ankle over his shoulder. She exhaled sharply before whimpering at the new, tighter feel of him, nodding her head silently to let Liam know he should keep going. Noticing the small grin on his face, and the way his brow wrinkled, she gripped him with all her might as he continued to sheathe and unsheathe himself.

With a shaky breath, Liam looked into her eyes once more and nodded his head, leaning down to kiss her. “Can I?”

“Come for me, Love,” she whispered back.

Liam slammed his hips into Katrina, trembling above her; she felt him throb against her walls before he dropped down onto his forearms to either side of her. He planted a weary kiss to her lips and rolled to one side, keeping one hand on himself to keep the condom from falling off, and collapsed onto the mattress. They both laid on their backs, chests rising and falling as they caught their breath.

Katrina eventually rolled onto her side, grinning at him. “You look like you need another shower,” she teased, drawing an invisible line across his chest, now covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Liam sighed and turned his head to her. “Care to join me? Again?”

#31 days of summer #ns*w #the royal romance fanfiction #the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #trr au #the royal romance au #choices fanfiction #LEMON territory #liam x mc #liam x trina #trr college au #trr college liam #serendipity series #TRR Serendipity #zaffrenotes writes #one word pun titles #I'm done now lol

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wonkasmissstarshine · 3 years

Text

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.21

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Willy officially move in together.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers @sleepiesapphicxoxo

After dinner and when Rose's friends made their way home for the night, Rose immediately packed a bag of clothes and personal belongings she wanted to bring with her to the house she was moving into with Willy.

Charlie wasn't going to lie. He was sad that he was losing his roommate, but he also knew that she was still living within the factory so he would still be seeing her everyday.

"I'm really going to miss you, Rosie" Charlie said.

"Oh, Charlie" Rose cooed, pulling her little brother into a hug. "I'm still going to be in the factory. I'll make sure to stop by the house everyday, and you can come see me at mine and Willy's house"

"I know" Charlie said. He looked up at his sister with a smile. "But still. I'm really going to miss hearing you sing yourself to sleep at night. I enjoy hearing you sing"

"Thank you, Charlie. I'm going to miss you too" Rose gave Charlie a kiss on the top of his head before letting him go. Once she had everything she wanted packed up, Charlie helped her carry her bags down the ladder.

"Well, Buckets" Rose said, taking a deep breath. "I suppose this is goodbye. Well, not really goodbye, I'll still be seeing you all everyday, but—"

"We know what you mean, darling" Mrs Bucket said. She gave her daughter a hug. "I knew this day would eventually come. I just never expected it so soon"

"The day our little girl finally moves out" Mr Bucket said.

"Dad, I'm twenty-six. Not exactly a little girl anymore" Rose said to her father.

"I know, but no matter how old you are, you'll always be our little girl" And with that, Mr Bucket hugged Rose.

And last, but certainly not least, Rose said goodbye to all her grandparents. She gave them all hugs and kisses on their cheeks.

"We'll miss you, Rose" Grandpa Joe said.

"We know you and Willy will be very happy living together" Grandma Josephine said.

"But don't you go forgetting about us" Grandpa George said.

"As long as you're happy, Rose. That's all that matters!" Grandma Georgina said.

"I love you all!" Rose said to her family. "And don't worry, Grandpa George" She winked at her grandfather. "I would never forget about you guys. I'll make sure to visit every day" There was a knock on the door. Rose answered it, finding an Oompa-Loompa waiting on the other side. She smiled down at him. "You must be here to escort me"

The Oompa-Loompa nodded at her with a smile. "Thank you" She said to the little man. She picked up her bags, and looked back at her family one more time.

"Goodbye, Rose!" They all said, waving to her.

"Goodbye, Buckets!" She said. Rose stepped out of the house. She followed the Oompa-Loompa to her garden. The garden where Willy was waiting in that small house for her. The house where they would officially start their lives together.

******

When Rose stepped into her garden room, she immediately noticed that it was dark, and the ceiling displayed a scenic picture of the moon and stars. She saw a light coming from inside the house and knew that Willy was inside, waiting for her.

She walked up the steps of porch. Rose was feeling very excited yet nervous. She was about to live in a different house from her family, but she was going to live with the man that she loved.

Taking a deep breath, Rose wrapped her hand around the door knob and turned it. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. She immediately fell in love with what she saw.

The house reminded her of a small rustic cabin. There was a small living area with a couch, a small coffee table, a small electric fireplace, and she loved the two chairs that were side by side. A W was stitched onto the back of one chair, and a R was stitched onto the other one.

On the opposite side of the living area was a small kitchen area. There was a working fridge, stove and oven, cupboards and counters. You know, everything a functional kitchen requires to be a kitchen. There also a sat a small table with two chairs placed on either side.

She explored the other rooms in the house, finding a functioning bathroom (With a shower! She couldn't wait for one of those), and a bedroom with a twin bed. This must've been an extra bedroom, in case Charlie wanted to spend a night.

Then finally, she came across what was to be hers and Willy's room. She walked through red satin curtains that acted as their bedroom door. The walls were a deep red and the carpet was black and plushy. There was a large dresser with labeled drawers, a vanity, two bedside tables and finally, a king size bed.

Rose ran her hands along the bed. The sheets matched with the room, being satin red. The pillowcases on the pillows were as well. The headboard, however, was black and velvety to the touch, and it was almost as tall as the wall itself.

"What do you think, starshine?" Willy's voice asked from behind Rose. She turned to look at him. "Do you like the house?"

"I love it, Willy" Rose said. She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But the best thing about this house, is the fact that you're here with me"

Willy let his hands rest on Rose's waist. "I couldn't have said it any better, my beautiful starshine" He started peppering kisses all over her face until he reached her lips and gave her a long, passionate kiss. "It's getting late. I suppose we should get ready for bed. I'll give you some privacy so you can get ready" Willy let go of Rose then walked over to the dresser, opening up a drawer and pulling out a pair of pyjamas for himself.

"I got some pyjamas for you as well. Just look in the drawer labeled 'Rose Pyjamas'" Willy explained to her. "I'll make sure to knock on the wall before I come in, that way I don't walk in on you" He gave Rose a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the bedroom to give her some privacy, and to go change himself.

Rose walked over to the dresser to find herself some pyjamas. She smiled to herself when she saw how the drawers were labeled. Everything on the left was labeled for Willy's things, and everything on the right for Rose's. She reached into her pyjama drawer, and pulled out the first thing that she saw.

She put it on and immediately looked in the mirror. It was a long and satin purple nightgown with thin shoulder straps. It also showed off the shape of her body, but not enough that you could completely see through the night gown.

Rose sat at the vanity, and grabbed a hair brush, preparing to brush out the length of her hair. She was about to start brushing when she heard a knock on the wall. "You can come in"

Willy emerged through the curtain door. Rose looked at him through the mirror and smiled at him. He was wearing red, silk pyjamas. Willy looked at Rose, returning her smile. "Could I brush your hair for you?" He asked as he stood behind her.

"I'd like that" Rose said, handing the brush to Willy. He took it and began to gently brush her hair. He was careful not to pull on it, as he didn't want to hurt her. She watched him through the mirror, his hands especially. She hadn't really seen them without his purple gloves before. She couldn't help but think they were the most delicate, yet beautiful looking hands she'd ever seen. "You have beautiful hands, Willy"

"Thank you" He said, grinning lovingly at her through the mirror. "Your hair is beautiful. It's soft to the touch and it smells nice"

"Willy, I couldn't help but notice the extra bedroom" Rose brought up. "Is it for Charlie to stay in if he spends a night?"

"Yeah, it's for Charlie..." Willy answered, before his grin faded a bit. It wasn't because he was sad or angry though. It was because of something that had been pressing on his mind since the moment Rose agreed to live in the house with him. But, he didn't want to bring it up now. Maybe later, when he and Rose have been settled into the house a bit more.

Rose saw his smile drop, but she didn't want to press him on what was wrong. If he wanted to talk with her about something, she would let him bring it up. Instead, Rose started humming the song that had been in her head for the past few days. Willy's smile came back as he listened to her.

"Charlie once told me that you like to sing him to sleep sometimes" Willy said.

"I do" Rose replied.

Willy had finished with brushing her hair and placed the brush back onto the vanity. He gently grabbed Rose by the shoulder and kissed her on the head before asking her, "I'd like you to sing me to sleep"

"Absolutely" Rose said.

The two of them crawled into bed and made sure that they were cuddled up together. Willy's arms were wrapped around Rose, and she had her head and hands against his chest, with her head tucked under his chin. Rose began to sing.

I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me

I still feel your touch in my dreams

Forgive me my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you it's hard to survive

'Cause everytime we touch, I get this feeling

And everytime we kiss I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause everytime we touch, I feel the static

And everytime we kiss I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so I can't let you go

Want you in my life

Your arms are my castle, your heart is my sky

They wipe away tears that I cry

The good and the bad times we've been through them all

You make me rise when I fall

'Cause everytime we touch, I get this feeling

And everytime we kiss I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast, I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause everytime we touch, I feel the static

And everytime we kiss I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so I can't let you go

Want you in my life

Willy fell asleep peacefully with a smile on his face. Rose fell asleep shortly after he did. Never once throughout the night did they let go of each other. They dreamt of one another once they were deep into their peaceful slumber.

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #the chocolatier's rose

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abuttoncalledsmalls · 4 years

Text

Take A Giant Step - Chapter 7

Warnings: Alcohol, Anxiety, Language, Panic Attack, PTSD episode, Some Sexual Content

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!OC

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: Here is Chapter 7! I have tried my best to handle the subject matter the best as I could with the research I’ve done. As for panic attacks, I am just pulling from my vast experience with those. If you would like to be tagged (or un-tagged) in upcoming chapters, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Shout out, as always, to the AMAZINGLY LOVELY @yespolkadotkitty for beta-ing this! Please enjoy. <3

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Banner by @yespolkadotkitty

The smell of stuffed shells baking permeated throughout my small townhouse. I was making last minute preparations for dinner that evening. Frankie was coming over to my place for the first time. Although we had been together officially for three weeks, I still desperately wanted to impress him. That’s how I ended up spending almost the entire day making his favorite dish from scratch. For anyone else, I would have just gotten the premade pasta shells and salad mix. But for Frankie, he was worth every second of frustration I experienced with that damned pasta maker. Only for him, would I have gladly made cannoli and not have complained when a splash of hot oil hit my wrist. Or at least not too much.

Frankie didn’t know exactly what I was preparing for dinner, but he kept on insisting that I didn’t need to go to a lot of trouble. That he would have been perfectly happy to share an order of McNuggets as long as we were able to spend time together. I was happy to make a fuss over him, though.

My kitchen windows were open, letting in the warm August breeze and band music from my local park. My county held their annual Founder’s Day celebration that day. Every year our board of supervisors would hold a huge event to commemorate the 1635 founding of Hallifax. It was an entire production with local businesses, community groups, and most residents. There were bands who played throughout the day, a parade that traveled from the courthouse all the way to the park, and a huge finale in the evening involving a fireworks show. While I found myself rolling my eyes at Founder’s Day, I did enjoy the fact that I lived close enough to the park to see the fireworks from my backyard. I had specifically chosen that evening for Frankie to come over because I wanted to share that experience with him.

Right at 7:00 PM a knock sounded on my front door. I took the shells out of the oven and placed them onto the counter before I went over to let Frankie in. When I opened the door, he was standing there with a boyish grin on his face. He held his hands behind his back and stepped forward.

“Hey.”

“Hi Frankie.” We stood in a bashful silence for a few seconds. It wasn’t an awkward pause, but one based in slight disbelief. How in the world did I manage to enter into a relationship with this beautiful and warm man? I eventually came back to Earth and moved out of the way to invite him in. When he stepped into the house he took his hands from behind his back to reveal a bountiful bouquet of daisies.

“I, uh, got these for you. I know they’re your favorite and I, uh, thought you’d like them. I picked the prettiest bunch since you’re the prettiest girl.” My cheeks turned pink as I giggled softly. I brought Frankie in to me and kissed his full lips. When I pulled away his eyes were still closed.

“Thank you so much. They are gorgeous. I’ll put them in some water right now. Make yourself at home.” I went into the kitchen and pulled a vase out from one of the island cabinets. Frankie followed me.

“Something smells really good.”

“I hope you’ve come with an appetite, Mr. Morales. I have made stuffed shells in marinara sauce from scratch and a fresh garden salad with veggies obtained from the farmer’s market. For dessert, a special surprise.” I gave him a flirty wink. He gave a small groan in return and pulled me in for another kiss.

“Mmm. I have a huge appetite. Can we start with dessert?” Frankie began to give my neck little kisses as his hands moved to squeeze my ass. My breath hitched and my hands came up to feel his broad shoulders. If the food had not been ready at that moment, he would have been sitting on my sofa with me straddling his lap. It took every ounce of self control I had to break away.

“You’ve got to eat your vegetables like a good boy before you can get your dessert.” He pouted and gave me puppy dog eyes. “I don’t make the rules, baby. I just enforce them.”

“I’ll be good.”

“Fantastic. Then after dessert, you can be as naughty as you want.” He grinned at me and I gave the dimple on his right cheek a peck. “But we need to start eating soon before the food gets cold.”

We both served ourselves, sat down, and began to eat. I asked how Frankie’s day had been. He spent most of the morning building platforms for our scenic stock. Afterwards, he met his friend Milton for coffee and then held his weekly Facetime chat with Santiago.

“How’s Santiago doing?”

“He’s good. Just started another consultation job with a new company. He might be coming out here again in the next few months. He said this company has a location just outside of town.”

“That would be great! We could have him over for dinner and you two can hang out.”

“I’d like that.” Frankie paused briefly. “Do you know what the best part of my day was?”

“I really hope it’s not related to any of Jeff’s shenanigans…”

“No, but those are fun. It’s getting to spend an evening with my Maggie May over a delicious dinner she made.” I couldn’t help but sheepishly look down and blush. Frankie started calling me Maggie May just days after we began to date. I’d always been Mags, Mango, Maggot, and the very rare Margaret. But it felt right that I was his Maggie May. When I looked up, he greeted me with a sincere smile.

“Thank you, but it’s not like I’m Gordon Ramsay. I just used my mom’s recipe and chopped up some vegetables. That’s all.”

“I don’t know who that is, but I know you made a better meal than they ever have.”

“You’re really laying the good boy act on thick, aren’t you?” His eyes widened and he feigned shock.

“No. I’m being honest and if that just happens to make me a good boy, then it’s a win-win.”

I chuckled as I rose from my chair and gathered our empty plates to take them to the sink. As I began rinsing them off, I felt two strong arms wrap around my middle. Frankie was gently swaying me from side to side as he rested his head on top of mine.

“Mmmmm, that feels nice,” I responded. “Maybe I can put a pin in doing the dishes at the moment.” I put down the plate I was scrubbing and removed my green rubber gloves. I turned around and moved in closely to his chest.

“Baby -”

BOOM! BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!

All of the sudden, I found myself and Frankie on the floor. His eyes quickly surveyed my kitchen. His breathing quickened.

“What the fuck was that,” he barked.

“I guess they started the fireworks for the celebration at the park already.”

“You knew there were going to be fireworks and you didn’t fucking tell me? Jesus Christ, Maggie!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue-”

“Well it is. Fuck!”

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. My boyfriend was completely pissed off at me for not giving him advanced notice about a fireworks display. I wanted to cry right there, but I couldn’t. Frankie looked like he was about to trigger into a full blown panic attack and it was my fault.

“Frankie,” I whispered. He looked at me with rage, panic, and helplessness in his eyes.

BOOM! BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!

“Frankie,” I repeated.”It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re gonna move to another room, away from the fireworks. Is that okay? I’m gonna stay with you the entire time.”

He nodded his head like an obedient child. I helped him up and we slowly made our way to my bedroom. It was the area farthest from the fireworks. When we got to the room, I sat him gently down on the bed and shut the door.

“Lay back, honey. Just like that. I’m going to move across the room and turn the fan on. It’s gonna get a little cooler and a soft whirring noise is going to come on.” I walked over to my tower fan and pressed the on button. The fan’s blue power light blinked on and began to blow out cooler air. I moved back closer to Frankie.

“What can I do to help?” His dark chocolate eyes looked up at me. The anger and fear were leaving them only to be replaced with exhaustion. I wanted nothing more than to hold him and let him know that I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was sorry and I should have let him know ahead of time about the display. I tried to blink back tears. Crying at that moment was not going to help him at all.

“Maggie, hold me?”

“Of course.” I crawled onto my bed and wrapped my arms around him. He nestled in close, resting his head on my chest. I kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry that I ruined tonight.”

“You didn’t. It was my fault. I wanted to surprise you with the fireworks and I didn’t even stop to think - “

“No. You were just trying to make tonight special and I fucked it up majorly. I haven’t been near an active combat zone in years and this shit still messes with my head. You’ve got to think I’m a nutcase. A grown man who cowers at fucking fireworks and yells at his girlfriend. I don’t blame you if you want to leave. Find someone normal who doesn’t flip out like this. I’ve tried therapy - it doesn’t do shit. I’m just fucked up.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. Did Frankie really believe that someone would throw him aside over a mental illness? Was there somebody in his past that was cruel enough to actually do that? I gently tilted his chin up and looked into his eyes.

“Francisco, I am not going anywhere. I am wild about and care so much for you. I need you to understand that I am here with you for the long haul. I may not completely understand all of what’s going on, but I am one-hundred percent in your corner and will support you in any way that I can. I promise you.”

“Thank you. Maggie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. Can you forgive me?”

“Already forgiven and forgotten.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “The fireworks will continue for another forty minutes. Would playing music or the tv help you?”

“That would be nice.”

“How about Cheers?” I grabbed my remote, logged onto Hulu, and pressed play. Frankie adjusted his position to that of the little spoon so he could see the television. I didn’t mind being his big spoon that night. I wanted to protect him from all harm - real or perceived - and completely envelop him in my love. Fifteen minutes into the episode, Frankie looked back at me.

“Maggie May?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can we have dessert tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

---------------------

TAGS:

@larakasser

@absurdthirst

@yespolkadotkitty

@fioccodineveautunnale

@wickedfrsgrl

@agirllovespasta

@ah-callie

#frankie catfish morales #Frankie x OC #Catfish X OC #Francisco Morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #Francisco catfish morales #abuttoncalledsmalls #Takeagiantstep #catfish morales fic

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r-ahh-mi · 5 years

Text

He // Chapter 5

Prompt II Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3 II Chapter 4

Pairing: Rami Malek x OC (Beth)

Warnings: Smoking & swearing,

Word Count: 1.9k

Tag: @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @amcquivey @cleopatra-knowles @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @xmxisxforxmaybe @soothysayer

Here we were. Two people who once adored the other with such intensity and passion and love that it was nearly vomit inducing for others to watch how incredibly in love they were, and now we were like strangers--no, worse than strangers. Strangers can at least share a little laugh, friendly greeting, or smile and still feel comfortable about that, but having him just be near me was sending a chill up my neck that was uncomfortable for me to dwell in. Thank god for the square that was nearing its end as it sat between my index and middle finger. Surely it was the one thing to calm my nerves right now, but even then I hated how I felt. I hated how much this boy used to make me feel loved, welcomed, and safe, and now he made me feel awkward, cold, and, all together, just a numerous amount of unpleasant feelings.

Rami soon joined me in taking in deeps breaths of our own cigarettes. The smoke drifted from his lips as his chest would cave in and his body would release whatever he was so needing to let go of. The fumes were tickling my nose as I smelled his favorite brand of menthol's drift through the air. He was always one for the minty cigarettes.

*Flashback*

“Ya know, the better your cigarettes taste the harder they are to kick down the road.” Rami shot me a smirk as he inhaled a hit of smoke as I was desperately clinging my black suede jacket against my body as the unexpected snowfall began to pour over Indiana, sending harsh wind directly into my face.

Just then Rami exhaled and looked directly over at me. “And who says I plan on quitting?”

I shrugged, “I guess you’re right, but I for sure know I will quit one day.”

“Oh yeah.” Rami cocked his eyebrow as we both slowed our previous walking pace to a halt. “Why would you want to quit?”

“For my child.”

Rami’s eyes widened as his lips parted and I could tell he was freaking out. “No! No! No Rami, I’m not saying i’m--god, no I'm not pregnant. I was strictly speaking about the future when I want kids, not right now.”

Instantly his tensed body relaxed back down as his shoulders visibly fell back into their usual place. “Oh thank god. I was--Oh fuck I was freaking out there for a second,” Rami said, running a hand through his thick curls that were beginning to dampen due to the large snowflakes.

“I’m sorry.” Though I was truly sorry, his reaction was priceless and caused me to elicit a few laughs along my path to giving him a side hug which he gladly returned.

“God damn it woman.” Rami mumbled, shaking his head playfully as he smiled while holding the smoke between his lips as he fished around for another cigarette in the front pocket of his jeans.

After the nerves and laughter had left, we continued on walking the path set in between our schools academic buildings and dorm buildings. The route was scenic and park-like, making it feel comfortable and relaxing as the two of us strolled, hand in hand, until we reached the locked main door to my dorm building. Rami had graciously offered to walk me home after my class seeing as I got done with class and he got done with his part time job at the same time that night. We somehow turned the evening into a date night. Spending way too much time getting high in the park set about a block away from the building my class was held in. I suppose it didn’t help that we ended up making out on a bench as well--who knows how long that lasted.

“So kids, huh?”

I looked over at him curiously, “What about them?”

“How many do you want? One? Two? Twelve?”

I laughed at his absurdity, “ Did you really just jump from two to twelve?”

Rami’s shoulders jumped up as he let out a short chuckle while he dragged his eyes over to mine as he started on his second cigarette. “Answer my question.”

“At least two.”

He nodded approvingly. “Why two?”

“I don’t want an only child. Only children grow up to be--well--odd.”

He couldn’t help but let exhale raspily with a cough to go with it as he attempted to contain the laughter that was combing through his dry throat. “Aren’t you an only child?”

“Yeah and look how odd I am!”

Rami nibbled on his bottom lip as he watched me. The harsh outdoor lighting was hitting my eyes rather harshly, making me squint and hold a hand across my vision in an attempt to give my eyes a break, but I wasn’t left to make due for long. Rami placed his hands around my waist, letting his fingers spread widely along my heavily clothed body as he turned us around so he was now facing the harsh light.

“I like two. Two is a good number,” Rami finished, letting a soft, boyish grin smother his lips.

I could tell he was thinking because of how quiet he was. Whatever it was it seemed pleasant as he stared at me dreamily, finishing off his cigarette and offering me the last inhale for the square before it was smaller than the size of a dime.

“What are you thinking about?”

In response, Rami bit his lip even harder as he flicked the butt onto the black top ground and then shook his head. “I don’t think you want to know.”

This peaked my curiosity. Of course I wanted to know. I wanted to know every little thought that floated into this dreamy boys brain no matter how awful or disgusting or sad it could be.

“Tell me.” My tone was soft as my hand came up to his coat covered arm, lovingly caressing it with my finger tips, up and down.

He pondered for a second. Weighing the pros and extreme con’s should I react in anyway that wasn’t positive. He was terrified of messing this up. Not just this conversation, but in general. This was one of those “too good to be true” situations that he was simply waiting to crash and burn, however the burn hadn’t come, at least not yet.

“Alright-”

“Yes! Tell me, tell me, tell me, te-”

Rami removed a hand from around my waist to press a finger to my lips, instantly making me go quiet.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t think I'm weird or anything.”

“As if I don’t think you’re weird already?,” I scoffed playfully as my other hand worked its way up and around to the back of his neck. Feeling the damp ends of his hair through my gloves as I felt his neck relax back into my palm.

“I’ll shut up--just tell me.”

He nodded, blinking slowly. “I was just thinking of--uh--you know..having a family of my own.”

I was immensely confused. “And how is that weird? That’s not weird at all.”

“It is. Trust me it is.” Rami nodded, taking his eyes off of me to stare down at the small necklace wrapped around my neck, but I was quick to grab his attention as my hand moved from his neck to his chin, lifting it lightly.

“Tell me.”

He look scared. At that time I wasn’t sure of what, but now it was clear; one-thousand percent clear why and I would’ve been scared to say it to. I give him a lot of props for even bringing it up, but I suppose he must have felt that there was a large chance I would respond positively, despite how scared he was. And that is something that still makes my stomach bubble and my heart warm up, because, even though we hadn’t known each other very long at this point, he still was feeling exactly what I was feeling at that time too.

“I was thinking about having a family with you--now i know that’s crazy cause we’ve only been together six months, but I-”

My feelings were bursting with so much love for this boy that I had to stop this agonizing pain he was putting himself through with his ramblings and self doubt and self consciousness; my lips couldn’t move fast enough to his.

But that’s just how easy it was with him. It was never work to call what we had a relationship and it was never something that I felt I had to make time for or make sure I was doing right because he never made me second guess what I was doing. If we both worked and had class all day long, we took five minutes to see each other and just relish in one another. If we had a minor disagreement about something, then we took time to see the others point of view. It was easy, so fucking easy. But I guess that should’ve been a red glad for me. Nothing is quite that easy and flowing in life. It’s just impossible. Things will crack and break on their own time, but it absolutely will happen, that i’m sure of now, it’s just--I sort of had this..I don’t know… hope that maybe we could fix what we broke and glue or mend or--I don’t fucking know. Something! Anything to help put us back together, but that’s difficult when you can’t think of a single reason as to why things were broken in the first place or even what was broken.

“Beth...Beth..”

Finally, a loud cough pulled me back from my haze of past positive memories that were once floating through my brain.

“You okay?”

That voice. There it was again. I felt my breath pull sharply inside of my body, making my heart skip a beat or two as it raced back up to catch what it had lost.

I looked over at him with disbelief, not fully believing or trusting my mind that I had actually heard him say words to me, but he was looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer and I wasn’t sure my mind was capable at the moment of creating some sort of normal response.

I was correct in thinking this was as my lips parted to speak, but trembled furiously as if a sudden gust of cold had made my teeth chatter. Rami looked at me confused - he noted my reaction and I could see it in his eyes that he was wondering how we had gotten this way, just as I had thought the same exact thing for the tenth or so time tonight.

“Are you afraid of me or something?”

I shook my head quickly as he braved the distance between us and let his fingertips gently lay flat on my arm. He was attempting to comfort me; obviously my reaction was scaring him just as much as it was scaring me.

Rami quickly shifted his hand back to rest at his side as he brought his eyes back down to his shoes - they must be fascinating things you’d think by all the time he’s spent looking at them.

“I was just going to say that our order is probably ready.”

My lips formed into an ‘o’ shape as I realized the accuracy of his words which quickly made me dart inside the warm brick building.

#rami malek #ramimalek #rami malek fic #rami malek writing #rami malek x reader #rami malek x oc #rami malek fan fiction #rami malek angst #rami malek fluff

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excuseme-youpretty · 4 years

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Kat: 1, 7, 13, 17, 19, 26, 37, 43, 53, 70, 77

My OG robot tbh. ♥

1. What is their favourite food?

Anything which has been loaded with sugar. He is particularly drawn toward confectionery and all treats which have been saturated in artificial flavouring. Kat is notorious for his persistent slurping on the end of a lollipop and that hunger for something saccharine carries forward into his everyday consumption. He is far more likely to indulge in a fistful of peppermint candies than a three-course meal. If he had to pick a single food he would probably choose cotton-candy.

7. Do they like chocolate?

Absolutely. Warm. Melty. Sticky. Sweet. And great for sexual stimulation. Melted chocolate is the perfect consistency for pouring across a lover’s heaving chest and, for that reason, it is Kat’s favourite topping!

13. Do they believe in dragons?

Again, avoiding the obvious ‘insert sextoy company name here’ jokes, I’m going to go with a definitive maybe on that one. Kat, despite being a sexual deviant, is drawn toward fantasy universe and multicolored dreams. He’ll believe in almost anything.

17. Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

His twin brother, 2.8. They are both completely inseparable; joined at the hip. They are completely synchronized in their thoughts, feelings and passions. Comprised entirely of identical parts. It is as though they share the same soul. Basically, Kat really just loves his brother with his entire being and he would be completely lost without him. 2.8 is more than his best friend. He’s his everything.

19. What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Kat’s familial structure is vast and complicated. Apart from his aforementioned twin, he has an impressive non-linear structure to his family tree; consisting of adopted brothers and sisters which have all earned their place within Kat’s heart over the years. Certainly, there are a select few siblings which he feels particularly close to, and some which he rarely converses with, but he will always put his fucked-up family above all else. Even if he gets a kick out of teasing his baby brothers.

26. Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Realistically, Kat doesn’t look particularly violent. On the outside he is the epitome of innocent with his affinity for all things pink, shiny and fluffy. But Kat has been known to be a little erratic at times. He is fiercely protective over his own and that can often be to his detriment. So maybe he has used his beautifully large palms to smack a sucker down once or twice or five times. It’s only natural!

37. What is their favorite gif?

This adorable gif that Kat absolutely did not make using one of 2.8′s instagram posts. (And yes, the twins definitely have instagram accounts. Hands down)

43. Where is their dream vacation?

Really, honestly, Kat loves Japan. He rarely considers venturing further afield, especially when doing so will take him away from scenic views and tangerine skies. That being said, if he possessed the ability to easily travel to the United States without consequence, and with enough finances to adequately explore every necessary corner in order to find the exact person whom his sibling is in search of, he would gladly do so.

53. What is something that they want but can’t have?

Kat is incredibly happy with his life, honestly. Sure, it’s extremely unpredictable and wonderfully hectic but it is his. That being said, his ‘toy’ collection could use a little work. Not to mention he’s running out of that special bubblegum-pink rope. And, really, he could use - okay, who am I kidding. Kat would kill to be human.

70. What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

His beautiful contrasts. Externally he is the epitome of all things candied, sweet and innocent. But underneath it all he is sadistic, kinky and raw. And I find that to be beautiful.

77. Who would cheer them up after a long day?

Two. Point. Eight.

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sunflowerspectre · 5 years

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Divine | Lucifer x Twilight Crossover | Chapter One

Fanfiction | A03

Previous | Next

Slow Burn | Carlisle Cullen x OC

Chapter One: A Soft Light

She could’ve flown in, quite literally, but she’s always preferred her feet planted on the ground. It’s why she loves the motorcycle gifted to her from her brother. She can feel the howling wind against her, plant her feet on the earth when she stops, and is unconfined by metal and oil.

She takes the scenic route to Forks, avoiding the highways full of loud noises and the smell of smoke as much as she can. She takes her time appreciating each mountain she passes and every deer that crosses.

Forks is just as isolated as she hoped it would be. The towering trees that hide smaller houses and buildings are a breath of fresh air that she savors. She can feel the energy around her - a grainy, earthy feeling filled with growth and positivity. It vibrates through her bones and when she breathes deeply, she realizes just how much she’s missed it. The trees’ thick trunks tell her that they’ve been undisturbed for a long time and the greenery are vibrant, full of life.

The city may be Lucifer’s new home, but this is going to be hers.

Welcome To Forks - the sign is partially hidden on the side of the road, covered with overgrown bushes, but it still takes her a cool minute before she officially reaches any civilization. When her eyes meet the first building in her path, that happiness dwindles at the reminder that, as undisturbed as most of the forest is, there are people here. She forces herself to breathe through it and remind herself that that passing, fleeting sensation of disappointment at the sight of people is exactly why she is here in the first place.

Her time with Lucifer, and by extent the others, including a particular detective, has taught her many things. Aside from basic human interaction, her brother’s friends - the human family he’s made here - showed her that there is at least hope in the dark pit of humanity. She hopes that she can expand on that feeling, nourish it and care for the side of her father’s creation that she’s neglected and punished for so long.

She can feel people’s eyes on her as she passes through the town - she should have expected this. This isn’t a big city that is full of so many people that no one notices who comes and goes. Small towns mean a small community with few visitors and travelers. She tries her best to let the looks roll of her back as she continues through the streets. She takes notes of what’s around, specifically the sign that tells her which way the hospital is, but continues straight through the town until she eventually the streets gets smaller and she turns onto a dirt road.

If not for Lucifer’s funds, she would have been perfectly fine building her own little home from hand. She’s done it plenty of times before - it’s a modest, but suiting way to live in the middle of the forest. Lucifer, however, was appalled by the mere suggestion and was quick to find a place to buy for her. She insisted that if he was going to do that, to at least not get anything fancy and to get something that is a bit further from town, as in the middle of the forest as he can get. The more privacy the better.

He never showed her the pictures. She really should have asked him to. When she pulls up to the address, which at least is as secluded and private as she requested, she’s met with a house that rivals Lucifer’s own penthouse. With a groan, she pulls up and parks at the end of a long and wide paved driveway to a two story, modern architecture home. She carries her helmet under one arm - unneeded as it was, she doesn’t share her brother’s ‘openness’ and ‘honesty’ and firmly believes in upkeeping her human appearance - and already has her phone in the other as she makes her way to the door.

She puts the phone between her shoulder and ear as she digs the key out of her pocket.

“Ariel! Missed me so soon?”

She snorts, “ Tell me, Luci, when you insisted on picking out a house for me, what part of modest did you not quite understand?”

“None of it. You deserve the best, sister, so that is precisely what I got you. You’d be surprised at how hard it was to find anything expensive, modern and private in that little area of yours. Very few new houses. I imagine most of the humans that live there never leave.”

“No shit, Luci, it’s a small town. I’m surprised you even found something like this here.”

The inside of the home, at least, a bit more humble with minimal furniture, leaving the floor open and wide. She eyes the many plants lining the entire area, in a way that only a professional decorator could, with pleasant surprise. She’s not as pleased with the full bar in the kitchen, but the fresh herbs lining the kitchen’s window and the organic food in the fridge more than makes up for it. Not many people would realize it, but Lucifer does pay attention to the little things.

“That’s precisely my point. There was only one other one similar to this that was available, but it was bought a few years ago before I could make my offer. Pity too, it was much larger than that one.”

Pity isn’t the word she would use. The house is too large for her as it is, but she supposes it is more pleasant if people were to visit - people, she quickly corrects, such as her family. She could easily picture some of the more open areas being filled with Charlie’s play things and maybe she can dedicate a whole wall to Trixie’s art.

“Trust me, Luci, this is more than big enough, how many beds?”

“OH! That’s the best part. Six bedrooms so it’s perfect if the detect - Chloe - and I visit with the little urchin. Charlie and Linda and Amenadiel would be happy too, I suppose, but even with all of us staying there, you’d have plenty of free space for any orgies or parties. “

She doesn’t bother mentioning that she has no intention of either of those things, knowing it would fall to deaf ears. She quickly mutters her appreciation and ends the call, knowing that she has quite a bit of exploring to do.

She’s pleased to find that each room has its own amount of plants and flowers, and that aside from basic essentials such as beds, nightstands, and dressers, a majority of the bedrooms are empty. There is one that was more clearly decorated with Trixie in mind, something that she finds endearing that Lucifer thought that they would be coming over often enough to justify it. Two of the bedrooms conjoin and she can easily see them becoming Amenadiel and Linda’s room connecting with Charlie’s, once he is older. She tries not to dwell on how easily she can see everyone living in that space and instead reminds herself that their homes are in LA; this would be only for visits. All the space that could easily be filled with her family will likely be empty a majority of the time. The realization leaves her a bit hollow.

She’s not as pleased about the largest bedroom being one that her brother very clearly decorated himself - it being a very clear sex dungeon than a proper bedroom. It still retains some amount of classiness, with at least a leather hide rug. An intricately built sex swing is off to one side while a cage hanging from the ceiling is at the other. The bed is large and has small chains hanging from its frame. The closet is full of brand new lingerie and costumes, that she’s frightened to find are in her size. There is a whole shelf of dildos and strap on in clear view on one wall. She quickly shuts the door and knows that in the future, that door is going to be very tightly under lock and key. She supposes that if Mazikeen and perhaps even Eve visits, then they’ll be happy to stay there.

The last bedroom Lucifer clearly kept for her. The large open windows overlooking the treeline, the neatly organized and placed plants, and the large, flowery bedspread all scream of her own aesthetic. There’s a satin canopy over the bed that while is a bit out of her tastes, goes well with the soft colors of the room and compliments the vibrant green color of the plants hanging around it. The whole room is in a soft, natural light with warm, pale colors that go well with the greenery. She rolls her eyes at the clothes in the closet, all in her size, but all clearly brand new with the price tags still attached and a majority being too fancy or revealing for her tastes. She makes a mental note to go shopping for her own clothes later, but wonders if it’s too heartless to toss all those new garments.

There are a couple of boxes, shipped from LA, of personal belongings in the corner - both are small. The fact that there are only two boxes and a closet full of only brand new clothes tell her that Lucifer most definitely just threw out her old clothes instead of shipping them like she asked. A quick look into the boxes tells her that at least the most important of her belongings have made it - personal pictures, including recent ones, and a few misc. Sentimental items, things she’s collected over the eons.

She wanders back downstairs, wondering if she should head to the hospital. Her first day isn’t until tomorrow, but at least she could scope it out. However, she’s barely down the stairs when the doorbell rings.

The Cullen house is quiet. While the weekend usually means freedom, fun, or even parties for most high schoolers - they are not most high schoolers. The weekend brings silence, boredom, routine. There’s nothing that they haven’t done before and while the clouds are cloudy, there are few places for them to go or things to do. The next thunderstorm isn’t due until tomorrow, so it’s only a matter of waiting until their next game.

Emmet is one of the only ones who are genuinely enjoying the weekend, happily shouting at the screen of the TV as he plays the latest version of his favorite video game. Rosalie is not as pleased by this, but settles on the couch beside him in a huff as she does her nails. After a few choice words and fights, Emmet is careful not to nudge her, lest she get her nail polish everywhere.

Carlisle is busy at work, Edward is the one to inform them that Carlisle is busy trying to calm an ongoing gossip about a new nurse; something that while confirmed to be true, is driving their ‘father’ up the wall due to the chaos of the other nurses’ drama around the subject. Currently, the quietest sibling settles nearby with a book. Emmet is the one to tease him lightly about the fact that ‘he’s actually joining us for once’ and ‘not running to brood in his room alone.’ The teasing stops when Edward almost leaves due to it.

Jasper is fresh from a hunt, eyes burning yellow, as he greets his wife. She presses a quick kiss to his lips and opens her mouth to say something, but stops short as her body tenses. Alice doesn’t blink - she stares off into space, her body unmoving before she finally seems to come back to the present. She grins wildly, jumping a bit in excitement as she claps her hands. Jasper watches her with mild amusement, her excitement rolling off him like waves. Her light pushes on his shoulders as she jumps does nothing to move him.

“Someone moved into that house next door! We have a neighbor! They should be here by now! We should go say hi!”

This grabs everyone’s attention in various degrees. Edward immediately furrows his brows, worrying rising in his chest at the idea of the house - a place that’s sat empty for as long as they’ve owned this house due to it being out of many of Forks’ residents budget and Forks not being a place that people who can afford it go to - actually being occupied. Granted, their houses are at least a mile away from each other, it’s still too close for comfort. Who knows what type of person moved in there? A hiker who may catch them hunting? A conspiracy theorist who may piece together what they are? It could threaten their existence either way.

Emmet pauses his game at her announcement, looking over the back of the couch toward her, “Neighbors? Really? Are they hot?”

Alice rambles on how she didn’t actually ‘see’ what they looked like, she just saw someone on a bike going to the house, but that it was a bit blurry and strange.

The vision plays in her mind, allowing Edward to watch along with her. He can see what seems to be a woman, her face obscured by a helmet with long, red-blonde hair that sweeps out from the back of the helmet and down her back. However, the air around her seems disoriented, brighter than the area around her as if there’s a second source of light close to her that they can’t see. It pulses, but even as she drives up to the house, it never falters and always follows her as if she is the one causing the distortion and light. The light glares brightly when she takes off her helmet, blinding the vision completely before it ends.

Rosalie flicks nail polish on Emmet for his comment, oblivious to Edward’s inner turmoil, causing him to shout as it spills onto his controller. As the two bicker on in the background, Edward sighs as he glances over his book toward his ‘sister.’

“We’re not going to go say hi Alice,” Edward finally speaks, his voice firm on the subject.

She pouts, “Why not?”

“Do you really want to bring us to their attention? The house isn’t too far from us, if they start to suspect something, it’d be too easy for them to spy on us. Who knows what she is or what she’s involved in for it be that blurry? She could be with the wolves for all we know.”

Emmett scoffs at that comment, muttering about how no one involved with the wolves would be on their side of the treaty line anyway.

Alice waves off the concern, “All the more reason to check her out! Besides, it’s only polite that we go say hi, even Carlisle would agree with me. Oh! I should bring them something, but we don’t have any food here…”

She trails off, mumbling about what she could possibly take over as a welcoming gift, ignoring Edward’s constant protest and voiced worries. Jasper does his best to reach out toward Edward, hoping that he could calm him down. Yet at the sudden change of emotion, Edward glares at him before retreating his room with his book.

Alice’s eyes sparkle as she drives up the curved driveway to the neighbor’s house. It’s not too different than the last she saw it - granted the last she saw it was during an open house when she couldn’t resist ‘just looking.’ It’s a new home, recently built, she remembers the stir it caused in town - most people not understanding why the realtors were building such a home in Forks, but she can’t help but feel it was partially due to her coven’s own home raising the value of the area. Carlisle almost bought it as a second house in case they needed it, but someone else swooped it up quick - presumably the owner of the electric Harley Davidson motorbike.

She recognizes the bike from her vision and a large grin stretches across her face as she gracefully hops out of her car and nearly skips all the way to the door, clutching her welcoming gift close to her chest. Considering she hasn’t had a vision of the woman reacting to the gift, she hopes that their neighbor will like it.

She hums as she knocks on the door, swaying gently. Her family’s concerns echo in her mind, Edward not being the only one who spoke out after the others realized she was quite serious about coming to greet their neighbor. Rosalie had more than a few words to say on the subject with Emmett mirroring her words. Jasper seemed worried, but he supported her as much as he could once he realized that she was set on coming by even if he couldn’t come over with her; considering the chances that their neighbor being another vegetarian nomadic vampire is low, they all eventually agreed on Alice going by herself if she really wanted to go. Her control being one of the strongest - Carlisle leading their coven with Rosalie being a close second, though she refused to come along - and her being more ‘approachable’, her chances of pissing off the new neighbor, or killing them, is fairly low.

Alice is quite sure that if this woman - who may not be alone, though she was the only one in the vision - was genuinely harmful than she would have had a vision about it by now. So, she waits while she hears footsteps treading toward the door. She can hear a steady, softer heartbeat on the other side of the door and it swings open, the scent of pine trees and flowers hits her. She takes in the woman’s clothing first, noting the dated bell bottoms and loose shirt that seem more suited for the 70s and hums a bit in disapproval.

However, she tenses when she realizes bares into the woman’s strikingly yellow, and oddly familiar, eyes. It’s not the tawny or bronze eyes of her coven, but a bright unearthly yellow that are more reminiscent of a cat’s eye striking in the light, a predator staring her down. Something about it stirs within her, making her shift, but the smile on her face doesn’t falter as she stands her ground with confidence. Her first thought is that maybe they were wrong about the chances of another vampire moving here, but she can still hear the soft heartbeat of the woman. The scent of her blood is fainter, hidden in the smell of pine, but it’s there.

Human.

Unlike the vision, Alice can’t see any visible light around the woman, but something about her still glows. As if she has a presence to her that Alice just can’t deny. A gift, maybe, but if that’s the case, Alice isn’t sure what it is.

“Can I help you?”

The woman’s voice is smooth and pleasing, though not as melodic as their own. Alice nearly hops with excitement as she passes over the small potted plant to the woman.

“I’m Alice, my family and I live next door and I wanted to give you something as a welcoming present as our new neighbor!”

The woman’s expression softens as she examines the gift, her eyes losing that hostile gleam and becoming more welcoming as she steps aside and gestures for Alice to come in.

“Ariel Sera,” Ariel’s footsteps are as soft and graceful as Alice’s own, “Thank you for the rudbeckia. Once the clouds clear and it gets warmer, it’ll be nice to see some butterflies around.”

The woman’s apparent knowledge of the flower isn’t too surprising as Alice looks around the inside of the home. Most, if not all, of the furniture that was there during the open house has been replaced with softer furniture that creates a more cozier atmosphere, but there are many plants strategically placed around the room, making it nearly as green inside as it outside.

“Do you think the flower will last that long? We have quite a long way until it gets any warmer here, but I’m glad you like it! I was going to cook something, but I wasn’t sure what you would like or if you would be allergic to anything.”

Alice’s eyes continue to roam around the room. It’s a breath of fresh air, with a homey, permanent feeling to it that’s, sadly, missed from her own home. As much as she loves her coven, their house is, in a way, staged. Fake. Made to look normal and used, but lacks personal touches that come from living in a space, or planning to, for a long time. She turns vibrantly, eager to talk more, but stops short as another vision overtakes her mind.

Ariel stands in the middle of the Cullen’s living room, silent, as she leans against Carlisle’s side. She looks worried, her brows furrowed. Her eyes are hooded, tired, and seem somehow older. Carlisle looks to her with a soft gaze and his arm moves to wrap around her, clutching her hip. He presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, almost as if he’s making an unspoken promise to her, and the creases in her face relax.

Something about Ariel seems different in this vision - she seems older, different. Like the other vision, there’s a light that seems to surround her, but even the light is different. Instead of being a harsh, more bright light that seems to be burning hard with a sense of wildness, this time, she’s coated with a warmer, softer light that frames around her and vibrates with a sense of home.

Alice’s grin grows, her eyes glowing with excitement; she may not know when or how, but something inside of her tells her that this is a vision that is sure to come.

#twilight #lucifer #crossover #fanfic #fic #carlisle cullen #carlisle oc #oc #slowburn #fics #myfics #myworks #divine

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scgdoeswhat · 6 years

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20 Years Later

Prompt: Round 43 of #ChoicesCreates: 20 Years Later, hosted by @dopecatcollins and @theroyalwreck.

Summary: Jake reflects on his own life and his decisions that have brought him to this point, 20 years after escaping La Huerta. (Jake x F!MC)

Rating: PG-13 (Primarily swearing)

Words: 1,613

Author’s Notes: This turned out to be more of a character study of Jake and it completely deviated from the original outline I had planned. This is also my first fic for Endless Summer (and Choices, in general) so I hope I did the characters justice. No Beta used. Jake and co. belong to Pixelberry, while OCs, some backstory, and plot belong to me. Thanks for reading and I’d love to hear your feedback!

Jake McKenzie walked out of his beachfront shack and towards his hammock, beer in hand, ready to relax and do absolutely nothing on his day off. It had been 20 years since the asinine and unexplainable events of La Huerta. Time had slowly helped him cope with his emotional scars, though deep down, he knew it was more the whiskey and beer that helped numb everything so he could live.

“Live?” He scoffed. “Fuck that, more like barely survive,” he said to himself while taking a swig of the bottle of beer.

And survive he had. It’s what he was good at. In those years on the run prior to that fateful charter to La Huerta, he somehow was able to lay low in Costa Rica, procuring odd jobs without putting himself on the map. This was how he met his pseudo-boss, Manuel, who needed someone to help man a boat after his original worker could not make it that day for one reason or another. Jake had been on the docks, waiting for any opportunity, when he heard Manuel cursing up a storm about losing a couple grand because of that puta madre. That day on the docks started a fruitful partnership that allowed him to obtain Delilah and he was always thankful for the friendship, not to mention Manuel’s lack of questioning over his past.

“‘La Huerta, was it really 20 years ago?’” he thought, eyes looking out over the sparkling ocean.

Ironically, time for Jake meant almost nothing to him these days. Days blended into weeks, weeks into months… hell, he didn’t even know what date it was. He just knew when to come in and earn his pay check.

Apparently the time spent on that damn island didn’t mean much to the outside world either. While he and the rest of the group were busy bouncing around the space-time continuum, fighting sea monsters, and altogether not trying to get killed, one week had passed by the time he returned to Costa Rica. One whole fucking week.

Jake chugged the rest of his beer as he reflected, dropping the empty bottle into the sand. It was going to be one of those days.

“Good thing I brought out the fresh bottle of Jack,” he mused, allowing himself to drown in the memories.

He closed his eyes and the first thing that entered his mind was Her. His Princess. The way she sauntered into his life, commanding his attention and respect. The way her smile lit up the whole room. The way her eyes lit up whenever she looked at him. It felt like a lifetime ago. In reality, it was.

His eyes squinted open, frowning as he blindly felt for the bottle underneath the hammock. Unscrewing the cap, he took a big gulp of the amber liquid, relishing the masochistic burn down his throat, not unlike the memories that burned into his mind.

Jake had loved her. Who was he kidding? He still did. They were soulmates. He never believed in such foolishness until she walked into his cockpit. He initially wrote it off as a passing fancy. Who wouldn’t have wanted her? She was a smoking hot, barely legal college co-ed with a mouth on her.

He smirked, “’What a mouth, indeed.’”

As much as he loved the carnal nature of their relationship, it went far beyond the intense physical attraction. He didn’t know how or when it happened, but she had broken down his walls and firmly planted herself in his heart. He loved her so much that he knew he had no business being with someone so amazing. There was nothing he could offer her. A life on the run? Always hiding and looking behind their backs? That was no life. It would have been a prison for her and he couldn’t be the one responsible if something happened.

So Jake did what he did best. He ran. After the group escaped the island, they found themselves, much to his luck, in Cuba. He told her he was still wanted and couldn’t go back, especially now that Lundgren was MIA. He wanted her to finish her degree; to make a life for herself. She told him he was her life.

He remembered grabbing her after she said that, kissing her passionately and pouring every emotion he had into it. They made love – multiple times – that night while waiting for the US authorities to gain clearance in order to pick them up.

It was the cowardly way out, he knew, leaving in the middle of the night. If he had stayed, there was no way he would have been able to say no to her. He had somehow been able to contact his boss and thanks to a few favors called in, he was on his way back to Costa Rica before she would even wake up.

That was the last time he saw her or anyone from the group, aside from that one time 15 years ago when Estela (how the hell did she find him anyway) searched him out, only to call him weak and a bastard for leaving Her in that manner. He had nothing to say except that she was right. Estela never bothered him after that.

He kept tabs on the group periodically through years: Sean went on to have a hall of fame NFL career, all the while with Michelle by his side. She wasn’t just a trophy wife, either, as she completed medical school and residency from Stanford. Craig and Zahra went on to be reality stars (total wtf), winning globe-trotting, adventure seeking shows with Craig’s “Chyeah!” becoming a pop culture phenomenon. Raj became a heralded celebrity chef, with his own show and slew of restaurants.

Aleister proved that he wasn’t the dick that betrayed them on the island. He was a silent donor to many philanthropic causes, dismantling Rourke Enterprises in the process. There was no need to worry financially anyway, as Grace was even more successful than her mother. Last he heard of Diego, he was able to use some “discarded” technology from Aleister and Grace that allowed him to be with Varyyn. (Hell if he even began to try and understand how that worked.) Quinn became a successful author, writing fantastical tales about a group of kids stranded on an island, including a girl who became possessed through the island’s power.

Jake waited to see what his Princess was going to do to shake up the world. She graduated… and nothing. It wasn’t until a couple months after Estela found him that something finally popped up.

“Delacroix Heir Surprise Wedding.”

His mind went numb at the memory of finding out she married some Richie Rich, stick up his ass, wannabe actor, trust fund baby who lived off of daddy’s money. At the time, he couldn’t stop himself from reading the blurb on whatever stupid blog site. The post detailed the elopement as best as it could, but more importantly, had a picture of the happy couple. He stared at the photograph. She was as gorgeous as ever, wearing some expensive Italian designer’s strapless number.

Her face told a different story. She held a smile, sure, but he saw it never reached her eyes. Or did it? Maybe his eyes were just interpreting the picture into what he wanted to believe. It didn’t matter anyway. He lost any right or claim to her the night he left. He stopped keeping tabs on everyone after that.

“’It was for the best. That guy’s been able to give her the life she deserved to have,’” he thought to himself, taking another drink. He closed his eyes, drifting off to an uneasy slumber, nowhere near as drunk as he would have liked to have been.

Jake is awakened some time later (one hour, two hours? Who the fuck knows?) by the sound of someone yelling.

“¡Oye, Lobo!”

The half-asleep man rubs his eyes as he sits up groggily.

“¡LOBO! ¿Dónde estás?”

“Manny, calmate. I’m over here. What’s up?”

“’What’s up…?’ Ayyy…” Manuel starts rapidly muttering in Spanish under his breath, with Jake barely making out a few words, including puta and mierda. The Costa Rican man takes a deep breath, glaring at the best pilot he’s ever had on staff.

“Where’s your mobile. I’ve been calling you for the last hour. Ricky esta enfermo. Necesitas que trabajar hoy.”

“Manny. It’s my day off. Come on, man.”

“Lo siento, Lobo. Big money today. I’ll give you cincuenta por ciento. She’s paying $10,000 for basic scenic shit.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened after doing the quick math. $5,000 would go a long way. He rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do it. What time?”

“Una hora,” Manuel smiled as he continued, “la chica es muy linda tambien, go clean yourself up, cabrón. Cuando fue la ultima vez que tuviste la concha?”

Jake flicked him off as he went into his place, hearing his boss’ laugh reverberating through the open air.

“’I guess there’s a reason why I didn’t get stinkin’ drunk today,’” Jake contemplated. “Few grand for a couple hours work ain’t bad at all.

He walked towards the helipad, spotting a solitary figure close to the helicopter… and what a nice figure it was. She had these long and smooth legs, a nice ass, trim waist, with hair that cascaded down her back. She looked deep in thought and didn’t hear him approach.

“Excuse me, miss?” He turned on the charm as he addressed her. “Hi, I’ll be your pilot today. I’m – “

She whipped around, but the world had gone into slow motion for him.

“Jake???”

“Princess???”

FIN.

#jake mckenzie #jake x mc #endless summer fanfic #jake mckenzie fanfic #choices fanfiction #endless summer #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #choicescreates #fanfic #choicescreates43 #scg writes

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master-sass-blast · 6 years

Text

Strong as Stone- Part Twelve

*gets on top of steep stool and shouts* LORDS, LADIES, AND NOBLE GENTRY OF NON-COMFORMING GENDER IDENTITIES, IT’S GETTING GAY IN HERE!!!

Welcome back! Sorry I’m a little late. I’ve been weaning onto some new meds, and it’s been a bit of a doozy.

But! Why worry about that when we can read fanfiction instead!

Last time, we watched the latest edition of “Politics suck!” starring our least favorite troglodite, President Donald Trump.

Trump smacked Okoye across the ass, and --yes--Okoye will get her revenge, but right now it’s gay time!

This edition covers Wakanda’s “Festival of Loves,” which includes Wakanda’s version of Pride.

Author’s Note: This is not me saying how we do Pride is wrong. I’m just playing with some different concepts for a work of fiction. Don’t eat me alive, please.

Rating: T for language and mentions of abuse.

Warnings: mentions of abuse/abusers, enough fluff to rot your teeth off, lots and lots of gay energy, and mild sexual content.

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku, Shuri x OC, and background T’Challa x Nakia.

@the-last-hair-bender

Everyone has their own perspective on what makes the best source of power. Some will say wealth. Some will say strength. Some will say cunning.

All of those are fine and good, but know that love is the strongest power there is, my dears.

Love of self can lead one man to hoard away unimaginable wealth from the needy. Love of things can lead many to fill their lives with material objects --and a great deal of debt.

Love can also lead to beautiful art, powerful movements, inspired leadership, and healthy, tender individuals. This is why we celebrate love. It is a gift from Bast, as much as the heart-shaped herb.

It may seem contradictory, but keep love in your lives, my dears. A Dora who knows no love is no Dora at all.

Okoye had to force herself to keep from sprinting as she navigated the back halls of the palace. Try to stay composed. You wouldn’t want to actually run into someone.

Five minutes ago, Ayo had poked her head in her office to deliver the news she’d been waiting five days to hear.

M’Baku’s ship had landed.

Okoye allowed herself to up her pace to a brisk walk as she caught sight of M’Baku on the landing pad, walking towards the main palace entrance. But it’s not like I need to take the scenic route, either.

Two months. Two long, lonely months of separation. Two months of being relegated to video calls and passionate letters –M’Baku, as she had discovered, was something of a closet romantic. Two months of not being able to touch her lover, of not being able to feel his strong arms wrap around her, of not being able to hear his warm, deep laughter right in her ears.

Okoye jogged around a corner, then broke into a run as she saw M’Baku step into the hall, grinning widely.

M’Baku ran towards her, just as eager, and caught her in his arms. He swept her off her feet and spun her in a circle, kissing her passionately as he murmured praises to her and Hanuman. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Okoye wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing happily. “I missed you.”

A growl slipped past M’Baku’s lips as his arms tightened around her. “And I you.” He stepped forward, still holding her in his arms, until they were up against the wall.

Okoye inhaled sharply as M’Baku started kissing and sucking his way down her neck, his hips rocking against hers. “M’Baku, this is not the time or the place!”

“On the contrary. We’ve missed each other for several weeks. What could be a better time than now?”

“M’Baku. Please.”

M’Baku let out a disgruntled sigh and stepped back, carefully setting her on the floor. “I’ve missed you, Okoye. I don’t feel any particular shame in that.”

“Neither do I, but there’s something to be said for professionalism,” Okoye said as she straightened her armor. When M’Baku’s frustrated expression didn’t lift, she smoothed her hands over his chest in a soothing fashion. “Besides, I’m taking the second day of the festival off so we can celebrate together.”

M’Baku raised an eyebrow. “And the significance thereof?”

“The second day focuses relationships, romantic and platonic. I thought it was fitting.” She grinned up at him. “It also means that I get the night and next morning off. I don’t suppose you can think of something I could do with all that free time.”

M’Baku grinned down at her. “You could do me.”

Okoye chuckled as she leaned up on her toes to kiss him. “I like the sound of that.”

M’Baku sighed as they broke the kiss a few moments later. “How have you been, Okoye?” His expression darkened slightly. “How are you fairing from your run in with the American idiot?”

Okoye grimaced as they started walking down the hall in the direction M’Baku had come from. “I’m alright. I’ve been meeting with my assigned counselor. The White House hasn’t issued an apology yet, but the King’s legal aide is confident we have enough to launch a lawsuit at the President for sexual assault and emotional damages.”

M’Baku let out an annoyed huff. “He deserves worse. I’d love to see you kick his ass in ritual combat.”

“So would I, but I doubt they’ll spring for that.”

M’Baku ‘hmph-ed’ and took her hand in his. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. And I’m glad that we’ll get some time together during this… celebration. What will be going on, exactly?”

“Well, the festival of Loves officially lasts for three days, though the entire month is dedicated to expressing love in all forms. The first day focuses on love among family, the second on love between platonic and romantic relationships, and the third is about queer identities and attractions.”

M’Baku nodded. “And what is the third day like?”

“Well, lectures about queer identity, expression, and history are held at the central library during the morning. During the hottest part of the day, the main news network runs a broadcast recognizing contributions to the arts, sciences, and humanities by queer individuals, and during the evening a parade takes place in the streets. Official functions break off after the sun finishes setting, but a lot of people will stay out and have fun.”

“And have there ever been… incidents on the third day?”

It was Okoye’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she looked up at M’Baku. “Do you mean incidents like your uncle?”

“Yes.”

Okoye shook her head. “Not really. Everyone uses different paints on their faces to indicate how they identify. Those looking for an ‘encounter’ wear a bracelet on their left hand. Those who aren’t wear one on their right. Everything’s pretty easy to understand, so miscommunications are rare. And, for the odd bigot or two that would be daring enough to show their face, we have a security team that is trained to escort them out or detain them, depending on what the situation calls for.”

M’Baku nodded, seemingly impressed. “I wasn’t expecting that level of thoroughness. Shuri already told me about the idea behind the third day. I thought it would be good for Dewani to be surrounded by that kind of support and positivity, but she was a little…”

“Nervous?”

“To put it mildly.”

Okoye squeezed his hand. “Well, don’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to, but definitely let her know that she’ll be perfectly safe while she’s there.”

“I will. Will I be able to see you tonight?”

“Actually, you will. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with you, Dewani, and the family. But as for now, I have a meeting with Ayo to schedule the duty rosters for the festival.”

The corner of M’Baku’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Then I’ll see you later, my love.” He kissed her cheek, and let go of her hand with a squeeze.

Okoye smiled back and started walking in the direction of her office.

“…and that pretty much settles the security team rosters. We did manage to settle the two boyfriends that wanted to celebrate the third day together.”

Okoye frowned as she studied the list. “Are they working separate shifts or together?”

“Together. I was able to find enough singles who were willing to switch for one reason or another.”

Okoye nodded, then grinned. “Very nice, Ayo. You’ve done very well in arranging everything. How are the Dora looking?”

“Djabi and Aneka wanted to switch days. Aneka wanted the third day off to participate the parades, and Djabi wanted the first day to see her grandmother. I need your approval for that.”

Okoye nodded. “You have it.” She sat back in her seat. “This is the first festival that you’ve organized the entire duty roster for by yourself. How do you feel?”

“Satisfied.”

Okoye snorted as Ayo smirked. “A woman of few words. I’m taking the second day off, so I’ll cover for you on the third day, if you like.”

Ayo nodded. “I’d appreciate it. What’s the King’s schedule look like?”

“He’s making an appearance with the Princess, the Queen Mother, and Lady Nakia tomorrow at the main festival site in each tribe’s territory –save the Jabari. That’ll run from the morning to before noon, take a break for the heat of the day, then finish before dinner. From what I’ve heard, Chief M’Baku and Dewani will coming with.”

Ayo peered at the holographic display of the schedule. “Will the Chief’s primes be accompanying him?”

“Yes. On the second day, the King and Lady Nakia will be walking through the main plaza in Birnin Zana before a celebration at the palace with the tribal leaders and their partners.”

Ayo grimaced slightly. “Great. A building full of leaders with different opinions and no problem with expressing them.”

“It’s only for a couple hours. After that, the King and Lady Nakia will be enjoying a private celebration of their own, no guards required.”

“No guards will want to be present for that bit, trust me.”

Okoye smirked. “I’ll be off on the second day. Can you handle running everything for that long?”

Ayo nodded, the picture of stoic confidence. “Of course.”

“Alright. Since the Princess is out –and, given Nakia’s orientation—the family will be participating more directly in the parades on the third day. You’ll be off then, so there’s nothing there for you to worry about.” She groaned as her kimoyo beads started chirping, reminding her of an appointment. “I have to go. The Queen Mother invited me to dinner with the family, M’Baku, and Dewani tonight.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across Ayo’s face as Okoye stood a straightened her armor. “Sounds like fun.”

Okoye grimaced. “It’s always so awkward.”

“Well, you ought to get used to it. I imagine you’ll be dealing with it more, since you’re involved with the Chief.”

Okoye sighed. “I know. It’s just… weird.”

Dinner was pleasant enough. Everyone was familiar enough with each other that the conversation flowed easily, letting Okoye sit back and watch as they moved from course to course.

Dewani, however, was uncharacteristically quiet as she poked at her main course with her fork.

Shuri, amidst her excited chatter about the latest development in satellite technology, seemed to notice that her usually brash girlfriend wasn’t contributing to the controlled chaos and nudged her in the side with her elbow. “Hey. Why so glum?”

“What? I’m not glum.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve barely said a word!”

Dewani shrugged, eyes not leaving her plate. “Just tired. That’s all.”

Shuri pursed her lips, and she looked like she was itching to argue, but she settled at a warning look from her mother. “Well, I can’t wait for you to see the queer solidarity parades on the third day. There’s always fireworks, and a lot of dancing!” She grinned excitedly. “I actually get to participate this year! I don’t have to watch from the sides anymore!”

Nakia grinned back. “It’s a lot of fun. I remember my first parade. I was eleven, and my father carried me on his shoulders so I wouldn’t get trampled by the other, larger adults there.”

“Sounds like it’s quite the event,” Dewani said quietly.

“It’s awesome!” Shuri beamed at her girlfriend. “Did you ever get to do anything like that in the Jabari lands?”

Dewani’s mouth twitched into a frown. “Uh… no. I couldn’t really do that… with my uncle and everything.”

The table went dead silent at the reminder of F’Tendi and the abuse Dewani had suffered.

Shuri paled, bit the inside of her cheek, and dropped her head into her hands. “For Bast’s sake, how can I be a super genius and shove my foot in my mouth that badly?”

At that, Dewani laughed. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re excited. I just… don’t have the same confidence in my orientation, I guess.”

“No one says you have to be out at the festival,” Okoye interjected. “Plenty of people go without identifying because they aren’t sure how they want to identify or just don’t want to. You’re not obligated.”

“Yeah, but I know I’m a lesbian.”

“Yes, you are, but you can come out on your own time,” Nakia said gently. “Just because you know who you’re attracted to doesn’t mean you have to share it right then and there.”

Dewani pushed a few pieces of potato around on her plate before looking up at Okoye, an anxious glint in her eyes. “You’ve worked the festival before, right?”

“I have.”

“Do things… do people ever show up and try to… hurt anyone?”

Okoye sat back in her seat, running through her mental catalogue of all the times she’d served and attended the love parades. “I can only remember one time. There was an ex-boyfriend whose girlfriend had broken up with him for multiple reasons. He’d stalked her for a couple months, and tried to jump her at the parade.”

Dewani grimaced. “What happened?”

“Three other guys and the girl’s new girlfriend beat the shit out of him. He was arrested afterwards for stalking and harassment.”

“The parade is extremely safe,” Nakia added with a reassuring smile. “We all look out for each other.”

Okoye watched carefully as Dewani smiled back with a dim, nervous smile. Something else is going on.

Or maybe not. The girl had been abused most of her life by a homophobic, bigoted uncle. It could be past abuse and fear surfacing.

Well, it’ll become clear in due time, Okoye thought as she sipped at her wine.

Okoye rolled her neck and shoulders as the ship landed on a private dock in the Mining tribe territory. Last one. Last one, and then we’re home.

The first day was always the longest. As the ruler of Wakanda, T’Challa had to attend the official family-honoring ceremony for each tribe. Each tribe had a different time reserved, based on their respective traditions and values that surrounded the concept of family. However, without fail, three things happened during each visit:

First, the King would be greeted by the entire tribe in the spiritual and ceremonial center of the territory.

Second, the King would give a speech –tailored to the unique values and beliefs of the tribe—about the importance of love amongst family, how Wakanda was a family as a nation, and how loving and supporting each other as Wakandans was important and in the spirit of the festival.

Third, the belief specific function –for the Mining tribe, it meant that the King would meet any new infants that had been borne before the festival.

She inhaled deeply as she escorted the King, his family, M’Baku, Dewani, and the Jabari primes to the center of the Mining tribe territory with the Dora Milaje on the roster for the day. Almost done.

The greeting and speech went well. Okoye watched carefully while two off the more recent recruits –to make up for the women she’d lost fighting Killmonger and the Border tribe—stand by the King and his family as parents of new babies brought their children up for the King to see. So far, everything was going well.

Dewani sidled up next to her, having opted to hang back instead of stand with Shuri. “Can I ask you a question, or do I need to wait until we’re on the ship?”

“Ask away,” Okoye said, careful to keep an eye on the crowd and the King.

“How safe are the parades?”

Okoye frowned. “How do you mean?”

Dewani looked down at her feet, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. “You mentioned the stalker guy…”

Okoye smiled slightly, trying to be reassuring while trying to appear professional and somewhat menacing at the same time. “That was a one-off, Dewani. And, like I said, everyone jumped him before he could do anything.”

Dewani didn’t seem too reassured. She quirked her mouth from side to side as she shifted back and forth before murmuring through gritted teeth “We have celebrations like these in the Jabari lands, too. My uncle always told me that if I ever went to them, he’d find out and remind me of my place in the world.”

Okoye kept her face neutral as she processed the new information. “And you’re worried about him finding you?”

“Or one of his supporters.”

Okoye mulled the idea over. “Well, any Jabari are going to stand out amongst the crowd. Are any others coming?”

“Just a few of my brother’s friends who were curious about the festival.”

“Then I’ll make sure they and the Primes are put in our system. Anyone who doesn’t match them will be watched. Is that good?”

Dewani swallowed hard. “I guess.”

Okoye bit back a frown as Dewani walked away. Feasibly, there wasn’t too much else she could do. She had no way of knowing who was a supporter of F’Tendi and who wasn’t. However, it stood to reason that he and any others who shared his views would pose a threat to the festival-goers, meaning it warranted some sort of plan. As Okoye watched Dewani lean against her brother out of the corner of her eye, she settled on a couple ideas.

First, she needed to talk to Ayo before she clocked out for the day.

Second, she needed to talk to M’Baku and see if he knew the identities of his uncle’s supporters.

Oh no, F’Tendi, Okoye thought as the King finished seeing the last of the new children. You won’t be interfering this time. Not on my watch.

Ayo was waiting for her in her office when she got back. “Nice shirt.”

Okoye looked down at the low cut tank top she’d put on after showering. “Is it too much?”

“Depends. Are you seeing M’Baku tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you looking to get plowed?”

Okoye stuck her tongue at her best friend. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Then it’s perfect. Your message said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes.” Okoye filled Ayo in on what Dewani had told her. “I’ll try to get any identities of F’Tendi’s supporters from M’Baku, and we can list the Jabari that are members of M’Baku’s and Dewani’s party, but there’s no real way of knowing who’ll be a supporter and who won’t.”

A shadow of frown flickered across Ayo’s face. “That is a problem. Do we need to put more Dora into rotation for the third day?”

Okoye mulled the idea over for a moment before ultimately shaking her head. “I don’t think so. The Jabari are going to stand out in the crowd regardless, and bigots are going to stand out even more. They don’t have any weapons outside of the ones they craft out of their sacred wood, and those can only do so much damage at a time. Besides, as ignorant and hateful as F’Tendi might be, I don’t think he’d risk causing an inter-tribe incident.”

Ayo nodded. “Alright. Anything else?”

“Actually, there was one other thing I wanted to talk to you about…”

Okoye knocked on the door to M’Baku’s room.

It opened a few seconds after, revealing M’Baku’s massive form. He smiled when he realized that she was the one who had knocked. “Well, hello.”

Okoye grinned up at him and leaned against the door frame. “I’m off for the night. I don’t suppose you’d know a good place for me to stay?”

M’Baku grinned back. “You could stay with me. Actually, the Queen Mother offered to watch Dewani for the night so she and Shuri could hang out. I’ve got the suite to myself.”

“Goodness. I guess all that’s left is for you to invite me in.”

M’Baku scooped her into his arms, kissing her passionately as he carried her inside and closed the door behind him. “You’re always welcome to stay with me.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well, then I guess it’s good that we’re standing right next to each other and have several hours of uninterrupted time.”

Okoye smacked M’Baku on the arm as he laughed, delighted with himself.

They were in one of the public parks on the outskirts of Birnin Zana. There were a few people walking here and there, but the lush, green expanse of grass and trees was largely empty. Between the shade of the tree they’d settled under and the steady, cool breeze, it was a pleasant morning –even by M’Baku’s standards.

“It’s about Dewani,” Okoye said once M’Baku had settled down.

“Go on,” M’Baku said, voice carefully neutral. He’d stopped looking at her, deliberately focusing on the park in front of them, and his shoulders had gone stiff.

“Relax,” Okoye said as she nudged him with her own shoulder. “We’re fine. I’m just worried about her, is all.”

That got M’Baku’s attention. He frowned down at her. “How so?”

Okoye told him about what she and Dewani had talked about the day prior. “I don’t know any of your uncle’s connections, and they could be a real threat to the regular festival goers if they show up. If you could provide me with any names and IDs, I’d appreciate it.”

“I can do that, but a Jabari is going to stand out among all you low-landers.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if any of your people are going to come down of their own volition. I don’t want them to be unfairly profiled because of what they wear or how they act, only to leave the festival with the belief that we don’t trust your tribe.”

M’Baku smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You’re wonderful, ‘koye. I’ll make sure I have a list for you by the end of the day.”

“Thank you.”

M’Baku resumed his scan of the park, far more relaxed than he had been at the start of the conversation. He jerked his chin at a stand of trees at the edge of the park. “You said there was a river over there.”

Okoye nodded. “It runs through the whole of Wakanda. It’s the same river that you found the King in.”

M’Baku stood. “Do you mind if we check it out? I’ve always wondered what it looked like at the other end.”

Okoye smiled, and took his hand as she stood. “Not at all.”

M’Baku stared at the page of colored patterns that had been set on the table in front of them. “What is all of this?”

They had gathered in the formal dining room so that everyone could do up their festival paint for the evening. Nakia –already wearing the paint that marked her as pansexual—was laughing as she did up T’Challa’s ally paint. Shuri was beaming excitedly as Ramonda did up her paint for the lesbian pattern; Ramonda, for her part, looked like she was holding back tears of pride with considerable success.

“These are the orientation and gender identity marks that everyone will be wearing today,” Okoye explained, her face already painted. “Some people don’t use it because they don’t want to, but those who do use the patterns and colors that correlate to whichever identity suits them best.”

“Right. So, you’re this one—” he tapped at the woman’s pattern for straight ally “—and I’m this one?” He tapped at the man’s pattern for straight ally.

“Yes, but you have the wrong bowl. Here, let me help you.” As she started painting the right stripes on M’Baku’s cheeks, she looked over at two of his Primes, who were smiling and talking in the Jabari dialect as they painted the symbols for homosexuality on each other. “They look they’re having fun.”

“Yeah. They’re the couple I married while you were gone.”

“Oh! Cool.” She looked up as a servant announced that O’Chenga, advisor to Chief M’Baku, had arrived. “What’s he doing here?”

“I asked him to come,” M’Baku said. “To help keep an eye on things.”

As M’Baku introduced O’Chenga to the royal family, Okoye glanced over at Dewani.

The girl had sequestered herself off in a dark corner of the room. She was sitting so that she was almost crunched in on herself, a bowl of paint and the card with the designs in her lap and a mirror in her hand. Her hands were shaking, smearing the designs into indiscernible blobs all over her face.

Okoye was about to walk over and help her when the doors opened again.

All of the Dora Milaje walked in, lead by Ayo. Her cheeks were done up with the bisexual symbols, and she was wearing a shirt that had a poem about queer identity and pride screened onto the front of it. Behind her, Aneka was done up with the asexual paint and a shirt with the pattern of the asexual flag.

All of the Dora, in fact, had come ready for the parades --face pant, parade appropriate clothing and jewelry, the bracelets, everything. Lesbian, pansexual, genderqueer, omnisexual, gender fluid, skoliosexual, transgender, demi-romantic, demi-sexual, non-binary, agender, bigender, questioning, polyamorous, queer, asexual, aromantic, bisexual, and allies… a united group of beautiful differences.

Okoye smiled, heart swelling with pride for the women she was honored to serve with and call friends.

“Commander,” T’Challa said, both caught off guard and impressed by the appearance. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I had some business to finish before I headed out to the festival.”

Dewani was staring at the rest of the Dora Milaje, mouth hanging open slightly.

I wonder if she’s ever seen this many queer people in one place before, Okoye thought.

Ayo noticed Dewani sitting in the corner and walked over to her. She knelt in front of the teenager and started talking to her, smiling gently and gesturing to the card.

After a moment, Dewani nodded and moved to a chair by the table.

“Aneka, can you get me a make-up wipe?” Ayo wiped off the smudged, bleary paint and started redrawing the symbols with the finesse of an expert. “I like your dress.”

“Thanks.” Dewani smoothed her hands over the skirt of her blue and green dress. “When… when did you realize you were bi?”

“When I was sixteen,” Ayo said. “I met a girl at the parades and realized she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And then I met a guy later that night who was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Aneka chuckled. “Bisexual and weak.”

“Basically.”

Dewani chewed on her lower lip. “What are the parades like?”

“Honestly, I think you’ll like them,” Ayo said. “There’s a lot of music and dancing. And blacklights. The paint glows under them.”

“It’s basically a giant, city-wide street party, but a thousand times gayer,” Aneka chimed in.

Ayo nodded as she stepped back and handed Dewani a mirror. “You’re done. What do you think?”

Dewani let a tentative smile tug at her lips as she stared at her reflection. “I like it. It looks really good. Thank you.”

M’Baku grinned down at his sister and squeezed her shoulder with his hand. “You look good. Thank you, Commander.”

“Will you be at the parade?” Dewani asked as she stood and tucked herself under her brother’s arm.

“Of course.”

“And… you’re not worried?”

Ayo pulled a vibranium knife out of her pocket and flipped it open to reveal a glinting, six-inch vibranium blade. “Not really.” She winked as she flipped the knife shut and pocketed the weapon. “It’s a safe event. And, since you’re going with the Princess, you’ll be guarded by the Dora.”

Shuri sidled up to Dewani, resplendent in the same face paint and a shirt that read “Gay and Proud.” “See, there are benefits to going out with me.”

Dewani grinned and slung her arm around Shuri’s shoulder. “Oh, trust me, I already knew that.”

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri walked out of the dining room, surrounded by the Dora Milaje. She nudged Ayo’s arm with her elbow. “Thanks.”

“No problem. We have to look out for each other.”

O’Chenga stared after her as Ayo walked out of the dining room, mouth hanging open and an awestruck expression on his face. “Is she single?”

Music blared through speakers that hovered over the crowd. Fireworks burst into the air, in the colors of the Pride flags and the patterns that were painted on thousands upon thousands of faces. People danced together, face paint and smiles glowing under black lights that hovered next to the speakers.

An undeniable energy of excitement and joy hung in the air, filtering through everything and everyone until every last person was swept up in the celebration.

Okoye smiled as she watched Dewani and Shuri dance together, laughing breathlessly as they moved and bounced to the beat of the music.

Off to the side, the two husbands that served on M’Baku’s team of Primes exchanged soft, gentle smiles as they swayed to the music.

In the background, she could see Ayo and O’Chenga talking while sitting at a bar. Okoye smiled when she caught Ayo’s eye, and waved subtly as Ayo lifted her glass.

M’Baku put his hand on her shoulder, jolting her out of her reverie. He smiled as he watched his sister, then nodded as he took in the excited, happy crowd. “I’ll admit it. This is amazing.”

Okoye beamed with pride as she looked out over the throng of people. “This is Wakanda.”

#sass writes #black panther fanfiction #okoye x m'baku #shuri x oc #t'challa x nakia #it's three am right now #am tired #fluff fluff fluff #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia mention #lgbtq #it's here and it's gay!#ayo is amazing #and o'chenga is deeply impressed/aroused #ramonda is the best mom ever #wakanda forever

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