#but that's obvious. we're back at it again! let's see how long I can keep it up this year

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

A light flickers on over the porch. A drumbeat echoes in the distance. Crows flock towards the sky, calling for war. It seems Halloween has begun... and my house is open for business once more.

(Send a TRICK OR TREAT ask if you wish to receive a boon to help you murder the Pumpkin King.)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

45 / 1.9k / soap soulmate au, part 11

...

Mercenaries can be paid off for just about anything.

So when Price rings your cell phone to propose a trade—Laswell had your number, naturally—Horangi has no qualms with fishing it out of your pocket. You glare at him, but he doesn’t bother giving you anything more than a dry look before he answers it.

You hear Price’s voice from the speaker in Horangi’s ear. "Was wondering what was taking you lot so long."

Horangi sighs. It never ends, apparently. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Just to talk," Price replies. "What's your rate?"

"Come again?" Horangi asks.

"We're all soldiers here. Unfortunate that our mission came at the cost of yours, but we can all walk away happy, hm? I want to make sure you don’t go uncompensated. That’d be a shame."

Horangi scowls, but one of your squadmates in the back seat grips your shoulder and shifts his weight toward the phone in obvious interest.

"What do you have in mind?” Horangi asks.

"First, your rate."

"Too rich for your blood."

"Try me."

Horangi narrows his eyes. Then he shrugs and throws out a number. It's far more money than KorTac’s real fee, but before you can decide whether to say something, Price speaks again.

"We'll double that."

"Will you now?"

"I will. Even pay you all directly if you like. No need to involve the company. Just keep your handler’s cut for yourselves. I won’t say a word," Price says. "That should be good enough, shouldn't it?"

Horangi leans back, tapping the steering wheel in thought, but you can tell he's interested now. "What's the job?"

"Not a job, really. Just a favor. Let us have custody of your songbird, and the money's yours. Make up some story about how she got away or got shot if you need a scapegoat. We’ll turn a blind eye if you prefer. Keep the record nice and clean."

Horangi glances at you. “Songbird’s worth a lot to the company.”

“You’re not the company, now are you? You already did the damn job. You should get paid. You and your team.”

He likes the sound of that. Price's offer turns both of your situations into something everybody can be pleased with. Get the mercs paid for what they lost. They get the girl. Fine by him. He hums in thought. “Cash in hand.”

There’s a beat of silence on Price’s end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cash in hand,” Horangi says again. “Or no deal.”

“Are you sure about that? Wired funds spend just as well as cash.”

“I can afford to be picky, my friend.”

Another long pause. “Is that so?”

“Apologies. I’d be happy to consider your deal if I hadn’t already made a better one with someone else. He’s willing to pay cash.”

“Who?”

Horangi scoffs and ends the call. He tosses your phone into the backseat floorboards and ignores your stare burning into the side of his head. “Don’t worry, rookie,” he tells you. “You know it’s a better deal than you’d get back at base. You’ll thank me one day.”

…

But you don’t make it back to base.

It’s an ambush. A trap—Horangi doesn’t see the charges on either side of the road until it’s too late, and the truck transporting you flips forward onto its roof. One minute, you’re feeling the melted snow in your boots; the next, you’re looking down at the road through the windshield. Then you’re coming to in a haze of gunfire and hoarse voices barking call-and-response orders all around you.

It’s not until your teammates have evacuated the wrecked truck that you attempt to move yourself and do the same. Maybe they plan to come back for you; maybe they think you’re dead. Maybe you are dead. You really fucking hope not. Whatever death has in store for you, it had better not force you to contend with the agonizing pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken glass buried in every second nerve ending.

You push against the seatbelt holding you to the seat, having to twist out of your coat just to slump to the pavement. You’re still ziptied, but you have to move. If whoever laid this ambush finds you, you're done for.

Somehow, all you can think about is Johnny. If he could see you now, he’d never let you hear the end of it. He’d lecture you like a goddamn recruit. You hate how much you want to see his stupid face get angry at you again.

There’s a long lull in the gunfire. Then the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone curses and orders the others to “spread out,” searching for your scattered teammates—for survivors.

Your teammates aren’t coming. You’re on your own.

Then you remember Price’s call and Horangi swiping your phone from your pocket.

Desperately, you shoulder your way back into the wreckage. Somehow, you find it. The screen is cracked, but it still lights up when you wrestle your bound wrists under your feet and touch the screen. Thank Christ. You redial Price's number from the call log.

He picks up on the first ring. "Go for Price."

"I need to talk to Johnny."

There's a moment of crackling silence through the line. Then: "Soap's tied up at the moment. What's going on?"

"I don't know. Ambush. The car flipped." You wince, feeling broken glass cut into your shoulder. The slushy pavement under you is turning ruddy. Oh, that’s your blood. "It's bad."

Price swears under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Near the base of the mountain. In the side. There's a... a lot of trees. Twenty hostiles. I think. I can't see."

"Stay put. We'll find you. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

"I want to talk to Johnny."

"For God’s sake. You can talk to him in person when we find you. Just sit tight."

"Let me talk to my goddamn soulmate," you hiss. You put as much venom into your voice as you can, but even you hear how weak you sound.

Price says something away from the speaker you can't quite make out. There's shuffling and then another familiar voice picks up, low and gruff, and tinged with a Scottish burr.

"Hen?"

The wave of relief that sweeps through you renders you mute for a second.

That makes the worry in his tone swell. “You okay? They hurt you?"

The concern in his voice has your throat tightening. Dammit.

Before you can reply, there's another burst of gunfire and a hostile voice much too close by for comfort. You grab the phone and edge your way further into the tenuous safety of the wreckage. You clutch the phone in your hands, barely clocking the glass screen digging into your palm.

The sound of your voice cutting out over the line triggers Soap’s anxiety all over again. He curses up a storm on the other end, his voice rising with every word and the urgency in his tone growing as he calls you by name.

You hear more footfalls, but whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you. You've not been gunned down yet, at least. You need to find somewhere safer.

Peering around the wreckage, you look for somewhere else you can hide. The tree line is close. You don't know how long you'll last in the snow no matter what, especially without your coat—but cold cover is safer than none. Staying under a leaking, gasoline-filled truck carcass isn’t a good long-term plan.

Soap’s voice rises over the line. "Dammit, say somethin'!"

Finally you do. "Johnny?"

"Jesus." Soap closes his eyes, hoping like hell he's not about to hear you get shot, or captured, or worse. He can already tell by the rough sound of your voice that he's not going to like what you say next. "I'm here," he says quickly, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. "Where are ya?"

"I’m an idiot. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about..." You let out a harsh sigh. "You. Just wanted to tell you that."

It suddenly feels like there's a block of ice lodged in Soap’s chest. "That a goodbye, darlin'?" he says.

"I'm doing my goddamn best. Alright?"

"That’s a sorry fuckin’ excuse. You’re aways doing your best," Soap snaps. An ugly, hard thread of bitterness creeps into his tone. "Trouble is you always choose the worst way of goin’ about it. I’m not lettin' you go like this.”

"I know it's my fault," you retort. "Okay? I should've listened to you. Are you happy to hear me fucking say it?"

"Does it look like that's gonna fix things?" Soap’s voice rises with every word now. His temper is frayed at the edges. "No, I'm not bloody happy. I don't want apologies. I don't want some grand realization. I just want you to survive. You're damn right you fucked up. And you've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, so you'd best stay alive. You hear me?"

You swallow, clutching the phone tighter in your hands.

"Answer me."

"I'll try."

"No. You'll do," Soap says in a voice that brooks no argument. His voice drops low again, but the anger is still there. "You will make it back to me. You'll do whatever it takes. You don't get to leave me alone after all the trouble you gave me. I'll not hear one more sorry excuse."

God. You want him so bad it hurts. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pain of the glass in your skin and your dislocated shoulder to sharpen your focus. "Fine."

"That's my girl." The words come out rough, heated, and tinged with something like pride. "You just stay put," he says. "We'll find you."

You tense as another set of voices raise in aggravation nearby. The longer you stay here, the greater the chance you'll be seen. "I have to go," you say lowly into the phone. "Need better cover."

"Stay on the line," he says quickly. "Do not hang up. Hen!"

You bring your ziptied wrists down hard on the edge of your boot—and again, and again, pain radiating up your arm—until it finally snaps.

With your hands free, you pull yourself out from under the wreckage and away, leaving Soap on the line to hear nothing but shouting and gunshots.

Soap listens through the phone, biting down hard on the curse that threatens to tear free. He can't lose you. He's going crazy imagining the worst right now. His mind is all too happy to cycle through a parade of gory images. No. No, you can't go, not like this.

He'd give anything to be a knife on your belt right now. A bullet in your gun. Anything but this—this utter fucking helplessness. He can’t do anything but sit on the other end of a line and listen. It's torture.

Even with Price at the wheel, racing all of them toward the bottom of the mountain.

"We'll make it, Soap," is all Price says.

Soap nods, but he barely hears it. All he can listen to is the sound of gunfire through the phone and the cold, visceral rage in the pit of his stomach. He'll claw his way to you with his bare hands if he has to. It doesn’t matter how much blood and sweat it costs him to get you back. You’d better keep your word and stay alive to make it up to him.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / [part 11] / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[erwinsvow]

hiii idk if you've done this before but can u do rafe throat training shy!reader with his fingers??

such a fun prompt !! shes down bad in this.

you don't know how you'd ended up like this—curled up on rafe's lap, a whole partying happening in the background while you keep your eyes focused on your boyfriend.

rafe isn't drunk—he hasn't had nearly enough or snorted or smoked anything to get him buzzed, when he stares at you like this, you have to believe he's high on something.

blue eyes blown with lust stare at you while you look back. you can only meet rafe's gaze for a minute, maybe two, before you have to look away, face burning and skin feel hot all over.

instead you keep staring down at rafe's hand, holding two of your boyfriend's fingers in your hand, holding on tight and pressing down while you try to listen to what he's even saying.

"y'wanna go home?" rafe asks, leaning in to whisper the words in your ear. he brushes some of your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek that makes your stomach tighten uncomfortabtly.

"we just got here rafe," you reply quietly, trying not to make it so obvious. it's a bustling party—no one's even paying attention to the two of you. even if they were, they weren't seeing anything out of place. you were always touching rafe somehow and he was always touching you. you don't even remember the last time you had been out out rafe's eyeshot at a party.

"who cares?" it's your turn to stare, looking at your boyfriend and biting your cheek.

"it's rude. you told them we'd come."

"well we're here, so, we came." rafe smirks at you and you laugh—just like that you feel a little better, some of the tension dissolving away. you're always like this—caring too much about what people think, worried about their opinion. you don't want kelce to think less of you if you make rafe leave everything early.

your grip on rafe's fingers gets tighter as even the mere thought of the idea stresses you out.

"c'mon, relax. we'll stay a little longer."

"okay. i, um- sorry." you loosen your grip but don't let go, staring down at rafe's hand while you keep playing with his fingers. curled up on his lap like this, you seem to forget there's an entire crowd a few feet away.

"stop apologizin'." rafe reminds you again, flexing his hand while he does it. his ring catches the light and glimmers, your attention once again returning to your boyfriend's pretty hands. you don't let go unless you have to, looping your fingers around his and playing with his hand.

you hear rafe laugh quietly—and though not too long ago, you would have thought he was laughing at you, you know he's not.

"right. sorry," you say quietly, and rafe drops your hand out of his quickly. two fingers come to your jaw, holding you in place to look up at him. you watch with big eyes, waiting in anticipation.

"stop apologizin'. how do i get you to remember that, huh?" his fingers move, brushing over your chin and then your lower lip. your eyes flick down at rafe's hand so close to you, and then back at him. "got some ideas, kid?"

you shake your head, but you don't need to say or do anything—rafe's always been like that. he understands you without you needing to use words. and similarly, you understand him without needed to be told.

your mouth opens, and rafe pushes in one huge finger, first just to the knuckle, then to the base. you take it, eyes getting a little watery, your mouth getting his fingers completely wet with spit. rafe pulls out, and then adds another finger. you vaguely hear him murmuring something about shutting you up, but you don't even process it.

your head feels heavy, stomach tight, another hot, uncomfortable wetness growing between your legs. you start thinking things you really shouldn't, not with so many people around, but the thoughts trickle in anyway.

you stay like that for much too long. anyone could see it—the vulgar scene infront of them with you choking on two of rafe's fingers until you don't choke anymore, cheeks wet and eyes watery, even spit on your lips and chin.

"yeah, kid. that's it. shit."

when rafe finally pulls his fingers out, it's because he hears topper and kelce somewhere behind him. you wipe your eyes and your mouth, hoping you look somewhat presentable. next to you, rafe admires his wet fingers.

his friends say something but you don't hear it. rafe turns to you, talking quietly into your ear again so you can hear him over the noise of the party and the loud music.

"you wanna go home now?"

you lean back in to reply.

"unless you just wanna do it here." rafe pulls back to stare at you, confused. "but-but up to you. you can decide. either way."

[bettymylove]

Can you please do a Theo not fix where the reader is his best friend who he has been in love with his entire life and they are always snuggling and she is always on his lap but then she sees him with some other girl talking being flirty and gets jealous and avoids him and agrees to go on a date with someone else in front of him and he loses it and tells her he is in love with her and it ends in smut?

can I just say I love this ideaaa AAAHH!!

Something

pairing: theo nott x reader

content: read the askk<33 18+ smut

a/n: loved writing thiss

to other people the friendship of you and theo was not what usually friends were, you had no walls up against each other, being completely transparent to each other.

it was kind of a known fact you both harbored some feelings for each other, even though it had never been said however most people keep their distance from both of you.

you were both overly touchy with each other, him always touching you in some way, whether it be a hand on your thigh in class or making you sit on his lap in the common room just so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, all of this was completely normal to you.

it was after lunch on a friday, all the students were completely free from classes and you decided to utilize this time to finish you assignments so you could enjoy the hogsmeade trip tomorrow.

however reaching the library, you heard theo's laugh, the sound you could recognize anywhere and as soon as you started to walk towards it, you stopped in your won footsteps, since his laugh wasn't the only one, there was one more accompanying him.

he was laughing with another girl.

he was touching her knee and she had her hand on his arm, they were practically lying on each other. The urge you had to finish your schoolwork died, and soon tears began to roll down your cheeks, how could he betray you like this.

theo heard your familiar footsteps and started to follow you, calling your name but you gave no response which was very weird, since you were always cheery to have him around.

this behaviour continued well into the next day, he was ready to go to hogsmeade with you but it seemed like you had other plans, since at breakfast when a boy from ravenclaw had asked you out on a date you had said yes, that too in front of him.

he was confused to say the least, and was looking for an answer, his hand found your forearm when you once again tried to escape.

"so you're really going on a date with him?" he asked in pure shock, not being able to recover from the fact that you had said yes.

"do you have a problem with me going?" you had asked in a snarky voice, still thinking he was behaving irrationally.

"of course, i thought we had something" his tone and face all reflected sadness and pure betrayal, "I had thought that too, until I saw you flirt with that girl in the library yesterday" you had retorted.

"I was trying to get her to do my homework for me, so I could spend more time with you" he said in a gentle voice.

"why do you even care theo that I'm going on a date it's not like we're dating" you longed for an answer, to have some official word for whatever your relationship was.

"because i love you", he said in a slightly raised voice, "it's so obvious i do, everyone knows it and you should too, i love you y/n"

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, like you wished he would, pushing you back on the wall near you which secluded you from everyone.

his kisses started trailing downwards, he was sucking on your neck while his hands were all over your body, he soon went down on his knees, staring up at you, "let me show you how much you mean to me."

please was the only word leaving your mouth, which was soon replaced with moans as soon as his tongue touched you, swirling around, he was practically devouring you, urging you to come undone on his face.

"let it go baby, come on my face" and so you did chanting his name as if it was only thing you knew in this world.

"theo, please for merlin's sake fuck me" and he couldn't deny your pretty face unbuttoning your shirt, but still not letting it fall he started leaving marks all over there as well.

you had unbuckled his belt and soon got his cock out, it was red at the tip leaking some precum and you couldn't help but move your hands up and down on it.

he had soon took both your hands and pinned them above your head, urging you to jump and as soon as you did, he had his dick inside of you.

he was thrusting so hard and so fast that you could see stars already, moaning his name while he was still kissing your neck, it was all you could have imagined.

"theo, I'm gonna come" you had managed to say between gaspy breaths, and he had urged you to do so, since he was on the verge itself.

he had finished inside you filling you up to the brim, and you felt content with him.

"so, I hope you're gonna cancel the date" he said and you only laughed in response.

[tealvenetianmask]

We need some Barbie Wire Analysis . . .

Because for a character with maybe . . . 2-3 minutes of screen time, she sure has an outsized importance in the show. This is rivaled only by Tilla, who we know even less about.

Barbie gets the major callback in the last scene of Season 2. As other bloggers have pointed out, it could have been Fizz, who's a much bigger character so far. Fizz hated Blitz for 15 years, and they were able to finally reconcile-- even though 15 years is still a long time, that would have been, arguably, a more hopeful, comforting story for Stolas to hear.

But Barb, well, she's on his mind. She always is. "I miss her every day."

Barbie's absense, I think, is made more real by the way in which the show introduces her through photos, and she's never overtly mentioned in all of Season 1.

We're told that Blitz has a twin, that they performed together in the circus (or maybe after), and through her non-mentions, that something bad happened.

Then she's in the photo that makes Blitz finally break down at the end of Ozzie's.

I like how the twins mirror each other here. Similar eyes and face shapes, circus marks on their foreheads, pointy teeth, simple joy and enthusiasm. Whatever their lives were like at that time, they experienced it together, and there were good times.

Barb is central to Blitz's loss and his capacity for love.

We finally meet Barb in Unhappy Campers, and the way she's introduced . . . well. Unfortunately a lot of us were so disappointed that Blitz wasn't going to visit Stolas that we couldn't fully process what he was doing. When he first asked about Barb, my first reaction was "who?"

But that hasn't been Blitz's experience. He's just been keeping a major part of his day to day thoughts and feelings from us.

This nurse knows what's up. He's come back again and again to see Barb, and no taser can deter him.

It's such an obvious and central part of his life- missing Barb, trying to reconnect with her, that he seems honestly unaware that he's never told Moxxie about her at all.

It might feel like we're thrown into an emotional family confrontation out of nowhere, but Blitz has gone through years, potentially, of trying to get Barb to talk to him and being shut down. The hurt in his face, how it wears on him, and how he can't bear to give up hope. Well. It's all there.

So at this point, we still don't know Barb deeply. We only know what Blitz has told us, but more importantly, how he reacts to her absence, how he refuses to give up.

It tells us a lot about his stubbornness, the fine line he walks between resilience, hope, and just a pigheaded refusal to give up.

Maybe Barb is a part of why Blitz is like this. Maybe losing her taught him that some things are so important that it's worth never giving up, even if continuing to try is painful.

Maybe there will be a reconciliation, in part or in full.

But honestly, I also won't mind if a lesson Blitz needs to learn is that sometimes you do need to give up on someone you love. For that person's freedom to reinvent themselves. For your own sanity and contentment in life.

And if Blitz does let her go (at least of the practical fight to reconnect)? He'll think of her every day still.

[eyelessfaces]

ahead, ahead

poe dameron x reader

summary: “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”

or; your fear of the future forces you to reject the man you love.

warnings: rejecting poe but we're not actually truly rejecting him (who, in their right mind would reject this man), talks of the war, of being scared of the future, extremely brief mentions of an injury, death and grief

tags: gn!reader, idiots in love, angst, fluff, celebration, kissing, idk man I hate tagging this stuff you'll see

word count: 2.9k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

lmao hey I'm back ig if this fic doesn't hit ten thousand notes in 48hrs I'm dipping again

The night is fairly quiet, save for the occasional crackle over the comms. You and Poe are tucked away in an observation post, overlooking a seemingly endless empty desert; it feels like you've been here for hours, time blending now that the only light around is the shining stars and the small dots of your devices. 

Poe lightly clears his throat, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “You can't go away from any conversation right now, so,” 

You shouldn’t even be surprised that he can not keep his mouth shut for longer than three minutes. “Why won't you let me take you out on a date?”

You sigh. “Poe, not now.” 

You can feel his eyes burning holes through you, knowing exactly what gaze he’s using on you, knowing his big, warm, pleading brown eyes will have the exact effect he intends to cast over you if you happen to turn to him.

You keep watching ahead, trying your best to ignore his too obvious firm gaze over you in your peripheral vision, feigning focus on trying to notice anything unusual in the broad land of sand ahead of you. He makes it really hard.

“What? Perfect situation to talk about this” he says, his gaze on you unwavering. “For me” he shrugs with a teasing smile.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that your silence will make him drop it. But he’s Poe Dameron. 

“Tell me. Tell me why. I genuinely want to know your reasons.” he says, leaning back into his seat. “Hurt my feelings if you have to. I just wanna know”

You can feel the pressure starting to pull down on you. You know he won’t let it go, but you also don’t want to hurt your friend while you’re stuck with him for what could be hours.

“So what, because no one ever says no to you you can’t take someone rejecting you?” you scoff, turning to him before you check the comms again though you know there’s nothing new. 

He laughs, a choked, startled laugh. “We both know it’s not that. You kissed me”

You sigh, tension coiling tight and your heart leaping in your chest as you set the comms down again, at this point begging the maker for something to happen, maybe even for a First Order ambush just to get you out of this conversation. “Maybe I was just pitying you.” you mutter under your breath, busying yourself out of it by picking the underside of your nails.

“Oh, you were shitting your pants at the idea of losing me. That's why you kissed me. You were so scared I might be dead you ran to kiss me when you found out I wasn't.” 

Your eyes close wearily. He’s on point. 

“And you almost could have chipped my teeth with how hard our mouths clashed, so,” he trails off. “Come on. Why won’t you tell me? I really just wanna know. I can handle it.” he murmurs, more softly this time. Your head shakes as you tut impatiently. His gentle tone doesn’t make it less painful to be in this situation. “I promise you won’t hurt my feelings, you already kinda did anyway, so I guess I’m not really–” Poe stops when you suddenly grab his arm and hold a finger up, your eyes widening as you freeze.

“Listen”

Poe halts and goes silent, alert to any sound around, any faint wind breeze, any footstep, anything. 

“...I’m not hearing anything” he declares after a while, eyebrows furrowed.

You recline into your seat, releasing your grip on him. “Exactly. How peaceful”

He lets out a soft, bitter chuckle and looks away, into the waves of sand, pretending to get his focus back onto the task at hand. 

He finally, as you wished, lets the tight space be silent again, but after a while, you come to admit that the heavy silence is arguably more agonizing than having Poe run his mouth about something you don’t really want to talk about.

“You'll always care about the Resistance more than you could care about me.”

“What?” Poe scoffs and glances back over you, eyebrows raised. You give him a small shrug. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

Your gaze darts to him before you look back out the window at your side. “It’s not even a bad thing, it’s who you are, and that’s why people follow you, that’s why I follow you, but–”

He stares at you, his gaze burning through you again, caught somewhere between confusion and frustration. “But what? What makes you think that?” 

You can hear the startled hurt in his tone, the clear bewilderment, the clear need and urge in him to argue.

“You're a busy man. You're always on the run–” 

“So are you” he cuts you off.

“That's what I mean. We’re both so busy with this– this endless fight. We barely have time to sleep, let alone,” you gesture vaguely between the both of you, catching the pleading gaze you were desperately trying to avoid earlier, hoping he will get what you mean without you having to say it out loud, without having to stab him right through the heart once again.

“So what?” he insists, his tone firmer. “We both know that. That’s part of the deal. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t make it work”

You shake your head, sensing it will only keep going down from there. “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”

The thick silence painfully grips at your throat, and just when it feels Poe might start to speak again, the comms crackle with a signal, alerting a presence on the grounds. 

You stand up and gather the stuff you need, the mission you let aside needing your full focus again, and as you take your blaster out of your holster, you can still feel Poe’s lingering gaze over you, your chest tightening in a sense of guilt you’ve never felt before.

—

It’s spontaneous and unconstrained when you fall into Poe’s embrace, but you do, and it’s like nothing ever happened in that observation post a few weeks ago. Your hands fist tightly into the fabric of his flight suit while you're still careful not to press yourself too close against his wounded arm. The general hubbub of celebration is rumbling on the ground of Ajan Kloss, thrumming through the air, and you can only feel relief as Poe’s hand cups the back of your head, pulling you closer into the embrace. For a brief moment, you just stay here, mingling with each other, breathing him in like you didn't completely push him away the last time you faced him.

“Are you okay?” he asks when you pull back slightly, looking you up and down, eyes raking through as he searches for any sign of injury.

“Are you?” you ask back, eyeing his arm wrapped in a cloth and held against his chest by a sling. 

He shrugs, grimacing as he quickly waves it off, trying to downplay it. “That's fine. Nothing I've never seen before. I got things to celebrate before I start whining about this” he grins. 

He smiles wider when he sees your smile, your cheeks warming up as his gaze lingers over you, taking in every detail of your face. You have barely been able to catch each other for longer than two minutes outside of missions these past few weeks, so knowing he will now be able to see you for maybe three minutes longer now that the galaxy isn’t at stake anymore brings another layer to the wider sense of relief of this war being over. “I’m glad you made it out alright” he says quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the noise. 

“Couldn’t have done it without such an amazing leader” you tease, and he lets out a genuine laugh, shaking his head, but your own laughter fades as he gets cornered by his fellow squadron pilots, pulling him away from you.

You smile when you see his eyes crinkle as they cheer with him, and you give him another smile and nod when he mouths you a quick apology as they drag him away.

—

You stare off into the distance, a small smile tugging at your lips when from afar, you notice Finn being swirled around by Rose, all smiles. 

There’s a bittersweet feeling to this, all of this. It’s supposedly all over, but you also have no idea what to expect for tomorrow, and the next day, and all the ones after that, and the idea is terrifying. 

You put your glass down beside you on the crate that serves you as a bench, turning when you feel a presence approaching.

“Hey” Poe smiles, sitting by your side on the wide crate.

“Hey,” you reply, a hint of tiredness in your voice though his presence lifts you up a little.

“Overwhelmed?” 

You scoff, giving him a half nod, barely a tilt of the head. “Yeah, you could say that”

He gives you a nod of comprehension, staring off at the loud, joyful celebration in the distance. 

Puffs of dirt are flowing off the ground from being beaten by dancing feet, the particles visible from the strings and poles of lanterns set up for the occasion, revealing the figures of people overflowing with energy though that layer will peel off and reveal the true exhaustion stemming from the battle soon enough.

The night is warm, making sweat cling to skins, making tears of all kinds short-lived, visual proofs of joy and grief drying and disappearing quickly.

Poe’s gaze turns back to you, his hand settling over yours. “You should join us. You shouldn’t be staying by yourself at a time like this” he prompts, lightly nudging your side, a gentle smile on his face.

“I will, eventually” you nod, glancing at a couple linking foreheads, swaying side by side. “Just having a moment,” you chuckle softly, bringing your glass back to your lips.

“Ouh, okay” he teases, begrudgingly removing his hand. “Mind if I have this moment with you?”

“Sure,” you scoff, silently offering to share your glass with Poe, disposing of it again when he silently declines.

“So, what now?” he questions, a renewed brightness filling his voice. “What are your plans now that this war’s over?” he asks, eyes roaming along your figure.

You take a deep breath, clearing yourself of a discomfort you barely realized had been smothering your chest. “I don’t know. That’s what’s terrifying” you admit. He hums in agreement, nodding. “But maybe I’m gonna apologize to a certain pilot I pushed away first” you grin, glancing at him, meeting his eyes that crinkle in the corners as he smiles. “I wanted to apologize earlier. Before they snatched you away to worship you for your feats” you tease.

He scoffs. “Sorry. Busy man as you said”

“Yeah” you exhale, taking a sip of your drink. You lick the liquid off your lips, before looking back at Poe. “I was too harsh on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you” 

He gives you a single nod and a forgiving smile. “I know. We don’t have to talk about that”

You shrug softly, averting your gaze from him again. All those people cheering and laughing and kissing could have been you and Poe instead of that slightly awkward tension between you, in a parallel reality where you hadn’t pushed your pride to the first plan, leaving your feelings behind. 

You glance at him, at the way his brown eyes catch the warm glow of the lanterns. “I wanted to kiss you again” you admit, in a faint murmur. “When we came back winning.”

Your gaze falls to your lap, your fingers drumming against your glass as you feel the weight of Poe’s gaze over you, attentive to your every word. “But I didn’t want you to think I was playing with your feelings and being cruel again, just the way I was in the observation post”

Poe’s gaze softens, his hand closing as he tries to keep himself from reaching for you again. He nods in understanding, unsure how to go on from this admission. 

“It’s not about cruelty,” he mutters, still looking at you. “It hurt because I knew you were scared. And I didn’t know how to make you not be.”

Your heart tightens inside your ribcage, your eyes briefly closing at his words. You nod, having to admit he is probably right. Scared of losing any more people you love, for the cause that has already taken so much from you.

Scared of losing him when your feelings already weighed enough on you.

“Hey,” he calls, tearing you out of your knot of blooming thoughts, nudging your knee with his own. “That’s why we’re here tonight. Because we made it” he nods. “We're all supposed to be less scared now, to enjoy the celebration and to properly take time to process our griefs.”

A faint smile grows over his face when you rest your head against his shoulder. You try to ignore the tears threatening your eyes.

“So things are supposed to be quieter now, right?” you question quietly, feeling his arm wrap around your back.

He hums in reflection. “There’s still a lot to do but, yeah, supposedly”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always”

You let out a small, vulnerable sigh. “I never thought this day would actually happen. It was just a distant vision” you confess. “And now that it’s here I don’t know what to do”

He slightly tilts his head, glancing at you without dislodging your head from his shoulder. “You’ve never fantasized about what your life would be like after the war?”

You stay quiet for a bit, thinking about it. “Not really. Not seriously. Mostly because it didn’t really feel like this day would come, and now everyone knows what they want for themselves and I feel completely lost”

He nods. “You don't have to figure it all out now. The Resistance still has lots to sort out” he affirms, his thumb idly caressing your arm. “But you can think about it differently. You have every option now. You can start again” You pull your head away from his shoulder, considering this point of view as you grab your drink to finish it. You hum softly, rubbing your eyes when you let go of your drink, trying to chase the lingering doubts away.

“Come on, we should join the others” he clutches your shoulder before standing up. “And you need a refill”

You nod, looking back at your empty glass, propping yourself onto your feet. “Poe, wait” he turns back to you, an expectant curiosity painted over his face, watching as you step closer to him. 

“If you asked me out again,” you say, a playful smirk forming on your lips. “I’d say yes. It’d be part of my new life”

His grin widens as he fully turns to you. “Oh yeah?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and a teasing edge to his voice. 

His eyes roam over your face, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you nod. “Yeah”

He steps closer, the space between you shrinking as his hand brushes yours before he holds it again, this time more deliberately and more confidently. “You should have. Kissed me” he murmurs as your gaze darts to your linked hands then back to him, unable to repress the smile growing onto your face.

“I know,” you chuckle, watching him let his fingers intertwine with yours when you don’t pull away, his touch firm, grounding you with a peacefulness you haven’t felt in what seems to be ages. “But who says it's too late?”

“If I was that petty, I would” he grins, a teasing glint in his eyes, but the warmth in them conveys the playfulness of his words. 

You lean in to kiss him before either of you can overthink it, your free hand instinctively grabbing at the back of his neck like he can somehow still slip away from you, your fingers burying in his mass of hair damp from the heavy atmosphere.

His hand slides out of yours to cup your face and the kiss lingers, warm and unhurried, neither of you caring about the laughter and music of the celebration in the background. When you finally pull back, your foreheads touch, and you see the playful grin on his face that makes your chest ache with fondness. “Took you long enough” he teases.

“You’re so desperate” you shoot back, your tone lacking any real bite, significantly softened by the smile that refuses to leave your face. 

“You were hard to get.”

“Alright, okay” you scoff, your hand sliding to rest against his torso, adjusting the collar of his shirt on the way. 

The teasing slowly fades from his face, his hand reaching up to cover yours over the rise and fall of his torso, gently closing around your fingers

“I’ll make time for you.” he says, his voice low and sincere. “Between work, flying, building everything we’ve lost and our lives again… I’ll make time for us. I promise”

You find yourself nodding, swallowing his every word, blindly trusting him; because if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that Poe Dameron never makes empty promises.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, and for the first time in what feels forever, moving forward doesn’t seem as terrifying.

—

any and every feedback/reblog/comment is greatly appreciated and keeps authors going!!

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@pigeonmama @c-losur3 @klillaah @Spicydonut25

[strwbmei]

summary: what could've happened if angell chose to be selfish for once

contains: desperate/emotional sex, transfem!angell, fem!reader, angell tops, marking, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, angst no comfort, whatever the opposite of reunion sex is, parting sex???, mentions of crying but not in a sexy way, mentions of blood (also not in a sexy way), tw kidnapping, but you kind of learn to live with it, whatever the hell is going on in angell's event, everything is consensual and soft despite the alarming tags, mentions of drugs but it's unrelated to the smut, unresolved feelings on both sides, tw murder unrelated to smut, devirginifying sex i forgot what it was called, set in between Ditty Nightsong and Angell's interrogation

pairing(s): angell x chief!reader

a/n: I HAD to write this after finishing her event. Seeing Angell and the chief slowly get along despite their circumstances was such a treat. Also, first PTN fic!

You're tidying Angell's room up, careful to not make any noise since you don't want to wake her. Seeing the piles of pillows and clothes on the floor, you can't help but sigh. How has she lived like this for so long?

A faint song plays in the background. It's obvious the record player has seen better days—it's one of the more used appliances in this house. The song playing is the one Angell listens to while on the job. Huh.

Days are passing by, living this lie,

Not knowing what we're looking for,

As you dust off the furniture, you can't help but smile faintly. A change of pace like this is nice once in a while. Your only worries are preparing meals and doing maintenance around the house, which Angell doesn't even require you to do. Just something to keep you busy, you suppose.

It helps that she isn't a picky eater. Despite your lackluster culinary skills, Angell finishes each meal without complaint. She's even made a few positive comments lately. Maybe you should try making a meal for the sinners once you return to the MBCC.

Oh. Right. You're returning to the MBCC.

Gray, these walls are gray and there's no sky.

There is no hope, there is no soar.

I know somewhere there must be more.

It feels... weird to admit, but you've grown fond of this lifestyle. A domestic life with Angell like this is comforting, as long as you don't consider the fact that she'll definitely hand you over to her client as soon as she gets in contact with them.

Maybe you're just like the goldfish in her apartment, swimming blissfully in their tank as they stay oblivious to the outside world. You doubt Angell would be able to take care of them if she moves houses again.

You gather the clothes from the floor, catching a whiff of dried blood and sweat. Yikes. You wouldn't be surprised if the tank top you were holding had a whole ecosystem inside of it. It wouldn't hurt to wash these later, you think to yourself.

Just as you're about to finish putting the clothes away, you feel someone suddenly pull you into a tight hug, as if you'd escape from their grasp otherwise. It's Angell. You can hear how shaky her breathing is. It seems she had a bad dream.

"Don't go,"

The words Angell had been holding herself back so desperately not to say inevitably leave her, like a clock knowingly marching towards the hour of its death. She's glad that you can't see her right now with how her lips are quivering. You can still feel her hands trembling around you, though.

It's all so stupid. Angell is so stupid. She let herself get used to you, your warmth, and your kindness akin to sunlight so bright it hurt her eyes. And where has that gotten her? Naive; borderline delusional. Possibly dead, too. What have you done to this assassin, Chief of the MBCC?

"Please."

You feel as if you're meeting Angell for the first time when she says this. She has never acted like a dangerous hitman at home, but she has never acted so... desperate, either. You don't mind seeing another side of her, but the sudden change in demeanor is perplexing.

"Angell?" You call out. The woman's grip on you gets ever so slightly tighter in response. "Everything's okay. I'm here." You're not going anywhere—or so you'd like to say. Your relationship with her, if you could even call it that, is already far too filled with lies for you to add one more.

You can feel Angell's muscles tense around you. She holds her strength back, protecting you as if you were but a candle flickering in the wind. You feel safe. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" Although most of Angell's actions are obscured from your vision, you can feel her shake her head.

"Don't leave me."

The two of you are captive and captor. Not roommates, and most certainly not lovers for Angell to say such things. She could end your life at this very moment if she so wished. So why is it that Angell is the one who finds herself powerless in your grasp?

You stay silent. If you were being honest, you don't want to leave her either. But the world doesn't work that way. You have responsibilities; the both of you. There are more pressing matters for you to handle than adjusting the hands of a clock and feeding goldfish.

Angell knows this. She values professionalism and credibility far more than her personal preferences. That's the only reason why she kept you here in the first place. Which is why you don't understand what exactly has gotten into Angell; what has pushed her to give up her creed like this.

Sensing the mutual hesitation in the air, Angell pushes you down onto the bed. Her eyes are slightly swollen and red, as if she had just been crying. You wonder what she had been dreaming about. You want to comfort her.

In this state, she'll listen to whatever you say, whatever falsehoods you feed her. Tell Angell everything will be alright and that your time together won't end. She'll believe you this once, even if it leads to her death.

You're pinned under Angell's weight, but you aren't afraid. There's something about her that ironically makes you feel safe, despite how aloof she can be. Angell doesn't shy away from your touch, either, even if she knows that you could use your shackles on her. "Angell..." Your hand reaches up to cup her cheek. She instinctively leans into it. "You're not alone anymore."

Angell's eyes widen uncharacteristically from your words. She tries to act unaffected, but you feel her breath hitch. Is it true? The walls she had built around herself to shield herself from others had eventually turned into a prison isolating her from the rest of the world. Could Angell... really break them down?

She does what feels most natural and leans in to seal your lips in a passionate kiss. It's desperate like a symphony of sorrow, yet as gentle as if she were handling a delicate flower. Angell's inexperience is clear.

How unfair. A kiss is something that you should only share with someone that you love.

And still, you return it just the same. You mirror her fervor as you chase after her lips, your elbows propped on the mattress to hold you up. Its softness and warmth is a pleasant surprise. Most likely because Angell only used to sleep on the couch before you came into her life.

She detaches herself from your lips after what felt like forever and a day. Angell's brows are furrowed, and her eyes are hesitant. She gazes at you as if to ask, is this really okay?

Whether she's asking if this is okay with you or if it's okay for her to indulge in her desires for once, you have no idea. It doesn't matter. The answer to both questions remains the same.

This time, you're the one to pull her into a passionate make-out. Angell groans, eagerly savoring each kiss as if it'll be her last. You brush her hair away from her face.

"Everything will be alright." You promise, both to yourself and the to woman in front of you. But you're wrong. How could Angell ever be fine without you?

She can abandon this house, her pride, or even her life if need be. But you? Oh, god, not you. How could you get Angell used to your warmth and kindness, just to rip it all away from her?

It'd be less cruel to treat her with mockery and disdain. It's what Angell is used to and it's what she believes she deserves.

"No," she says firmly. She buries her face into your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist. "Don't go." For some unknown reason, Angell is convinced that you're going to leave.

There are still a few days until the "gig" she took expires, and even then, she can choose what she wants to do with you afterward. Angell could keep you locked up here for as long as she wants, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing.

But she isn't that kind of person.

Angell doesn't belong with those scum on the dark web. Her heart is unadulterated by the filth surrounding her, and despite how she acts, you know Angell loves helping people deep down.

"I'm here." You comfort her. Once again, you have to stop yourself from telling her that you'll stay. It seems you accidentally said that out loud, though. "...Liar." Angell mumbles, lips now trailing along your jaw and neck.

Sighing in bliss, you remove your coat to give her more space to work with. You toss it to a corner of the room. You'll clean it up again later. Her hands roam around your torso, exploring to find the buttons of your shirt.

Frantically, Angell works to remove them. She rushes as if she's going to lose you any moment now, not even bothering to remove her own clothes yet. "Don't go..." Angell pleads again before her mouth bites softly from your collarbone to your breasts. She unclasps and removes your bra as she goes.

"Angell..." You sigh her name as she fondles one of your breasts. She touches you with a gentleness she's never shown anyone else. When Angell looks up at you, her eyes reflect an emotion that you can't identify.

Longing? Regret? Lust? You can't tell. Honestly, you don't know how you feel about her either. You thought that Angell was weird at first, but you always believed that she had a good heart. You've grown fond of her as time passed—too fond. Angell isn't the only one wearing her heart on her sleeve, apparently.

For the first time, she calls your name. Not "Chief," but your name. God, it's stupid how such a simple thing has your heart racing when you're literally about to fuck. Since when has your kidnapper gotten you so smitten?

Angell's hands, strong albeit a bit slim, map out every plane on your body. She savors the feeling of each curve and dip and takes her time etching it into her memory. Lips work to kiss every inch of your now exposed skin, occasionally leaving small bite marks.

Not once has Angell treated you like the Chief of the MBCC. She knows of your identity and the good deeds you've done, yet she treats you like any other person. It's one of the many qualities you've grown to love about Angell.

The atmosphere in the room gets warmer, and you use it as an excuse to take off her leather jacket. The other woman is left in her tank top and pants. The prominence of her collarbones sadden you, although it's gotten better since the first day you were brought to this safehouse. You wish she'd take care of herself more.

Angell's hands stop at your belt. You enjoy the few seconds of her struggling with herself before she speaks up. "Can I...?" You smile at her consideration for you, making sure that you're fine with what she's doing. "Yeah. Go ahead."

Office wear is such a hassle to take off, you think to yourself as you help Angell take off your pants. Are all those layers really necessary? Again, the piece of clothing is tossed away to god-knows-where.

Immediately, the woman pounces back on you, now leaving kisses along your stomach as she holds onto your hips. You trace her scars softly with your fingers. You can't imagine the hardships that Angell has been through. You're happy to provide any sort of respite to her.

In the moment Angell stops to look up at you, there is an undeniable air of sadness and guilt. In an attempt to cheer the woman up, you tuck her hair behind her ears and attempt to tease her. "Don't miss me too much."

As you expected, Angell stays silent. You can feel her relax a bit, though—that's a win in your book. She finds comfort in how you never change. Angell slowly dips the pad of one of her fingers into your folds, careful not to hurt you. "Mm... Angell..." You bite back a moan.

"You can go faster. I can take it." You reassure the woman through heavy breaths. It's honestly embarrassing how wet you are, but Angell takes it as a sign that she's doing good. She's become more confident; now thrusting her finger inside of you all the way, albeit still at a gentle pace.

Angell is observant. She looks for what motions earn the most positive reaction from you with an almost deadpan look on her face as if she's not literally fingerfucking you into the mattress. It shows how focused she is on making you feel good.

"Is this your first time?" Angell asks suddenly. She doesn't look at you. "Yeah... Why?" You respond. Angell stays quiet, continuing the movement of her fingers. The question caught you a bit off guard. She didn't seem like the type to refuse to mess with virgins or care about the status of anyone's virginity in general.

Just when you let out a moan from her grazing your g-spot, a realization hits you. This is Angell's first time, too. You doubt she's ever had any real romantic experience before, much less sexual. It's no wonder she seems so nervous. You make a mental note to reassure and praise her.

Angell takes notice of how you let out a sound whenever she grinds against a specific place and abuses the same location with each thrust of her fingers. When she sees you trying to grind against her hand, (because of how good it feels, but she doesn't know that) she takes it as a sign that you need more.

"I'm going to add another finger," Angell says more like a statement than a question, but she waits for your approval before doing so anyway. You've never felt so full. Her years of experience using a sword have calloused her hands ever so slightly, and although you feel bad for what led her to a life of crime, damn did it feel good rubbing against your walls.

Angell loves the way you moan her name. She can't get enough of it; she wants to hear it roll off your tongue like a starving wolf longing for prey in the dead of winter. She listens to the sound of each letter eagerly, as if engraving it into the very essence of her soul. She wants you to say her name over and over again, and only hers. As is in the present and as will be in the future.

Angell's own selfishness surprises her. Maybe she's just like the greedy criminals she has both killed and worked for. Angell has never denied the possibility—she's not the saint that you think she is. There is blood on her hands, and not even the purest of oceans can wash it away. She has long since come to terms with her fate of isolation.

You arch your back into her touch, your arms wrapped around her back. If not for the tank top she was wearing, you're sure you would've left some claw marks along it's broadness already. You have to stop your legs from closing on their own, the overwhelming pleasure proving to be too much. Soft moans and the scent of sex fill the room. "Feels so good, Angell..."

She takes a deep breath, the only things filling her senses being your sweet voice and the feeling of your warm pussy stretching to accommodate her fingers. You have no idea how long Angell has wanted to touch you like this. You do things to her that she can't explain.

Your moans increase in frequency, getting higher pitched as you feel yourself nearing release. It seems Angell is a natural at using her fingers, seeing how she's about to make you cum quicker than you could ever get yourself to. "Angell... I'm-"

Before you can warn her, your legs tremble and you cream all over her hand. After continuing her movements to help you come down from your high, Angell pulls her digits out, fascinated by the string of cum connecting them. Much to your surprise, she puts both fingers into her mouth.

"...I've never tasted anything like this before." Angell remarks. Her sense of taste is dull—she isn't exaggerating when she says she can't tell apart food that's edible from food that's spoiled, or raw from burnt. But you? Your taste is as distinct as it can be to her tongue. You've ignited a dangerous fire in the woman.

"More." Angell demands, positioning her head between your legs. Just as you're about to protest that you're still sensitive, she speaks up again. "Can I?" Angell tilts her head as she asks for permission. Fuck it. You know you wouldn't be able to refuse her and her annoyingly adorable personality anyway.

You sigh at your lack of self discipline when it comes to Angell. "Yes, you can." Those words are all it takes for her to dive headfirst into your dripping sex. Angell's tongue explores your warmth with a newfound confidence, using what she's learned from fingering you to eat you out as skillfully as possible.

God, she's absolutely addicted to your taste—to you. Angell can't get enough of how you squirm under her touch; how you moan her name so wantonly. She'd stay in between your legs for forever if she could, but forever is not a luxury that the two of you have.

Angell wishes that life would be as easy as adjusting the hands of the clock. She wishes she could turn everything back to how it used to be. Angell would hold on to every passing moment with you like a painter desperately trying to capture the perfect sunset before it fades.

Each wet lick up your slit is greedier and hungrier than the last. She's gentle with you, yes, but you can feel the weight of the underlying desire that's been building up in the pit of her stomach for god knows how long. What Angell feels for you is akin to a devouring darkness: once you get entwined, there's no going back. Whether that applies to you, her, or both of you remains unknown. Maybe you know the answer but choose to ignore it.

Body still awash in the aftermath of your previous orgasm, it doesn't take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your belly building up once again. It takes all of your strength to resist pushing Angell's head down between your legs. Well, not that she could go any further. Too busy moaning Angell's name to warn her with words, you hope that she'll get the message with how your legs are trembling.

Sure enough, you cum with a breathless gasp soon after. She eats you out through your high, careful to lap up all of your fluids without overstimulating you. Angell is a quick learner, after all. You're left panting for breath after two consecutive earth-shattering orgasms, yet Angell hasn't even gotten undressed. That won't do. Aside from the damage your pride would take, you want to return the favor.

"Angell, lay down for me, will you?" You ask of her through your heavy breathing. Although Angell has her doubts, she immediately follows your command. "I'm not tired yet." You chuckle at her words but shudder to think about its implications. The stability of your legs would not survive after getting eaten out by Angell again. Though, the same might be said for what you're going to do next. "I want to make you feel good too."

You sit with your thighs on either side of Angell's legs, already working on removing her clothes. Once they're off, you're quick to capture her lips in a chain of soft, yet lustful kisses. She gives in to you more easily than you expected. You had the impression that Angell would be the type to want to be in control of everything at any time, but she lets you lead this dance.

Although the woman is probably unaware, the size of her boner is huge. Seven inches at the very least. You bite your lip at its sheer girth. You'd be lying if you said that you never had any doubts about it fitting inside of you, but it's nothing you can't handle... probably. As if reading your thoughts, Angell speaks. "...I don't have any lube."

Your eyes wander to the bottle of lotion you put on her bedside table, (which was the only surface available for it at the time,) but you eventually decide against using it since it's most likely expired. "It's fine. We'll start out slow."

Angell likes the insinuation that you'll go faster once you're more comfortable. She helps you align yourself with her cock, gently holding you by your hips. Although Angell has her hands on you, she lets you control the pace and only tries to assist when necessary.

With bated breath, you sink onto the tip. Her length feels endless, filling you up completely inch after inch. Angell relishes in how your eyes almost roll into the back of your head and the moan you let out when you finally take her inside entirely. Still, she places your comfort and pleasure above everything else. "Are you sure about this?"

Your chest heaves as you get used to the sensation of feeling so... full. It takes you a few seconds to reply. "This is nothing that the Chief of the MBCC can't handle," Angell smiles at your reply. Your act of false bravado isn't fooling anyone. It gives the woman a sense of pride to have such an important figure of society in her hands like this.

Just being inside of you has Angell biting her lip. She'd never imagine in her life that she'd be able to sleep with anyone, much less someone as kind and beautiful as you are. The intimacy of it all makes everything that much more pleasurable, and Angell hopes you feel the same way.

The two of you stay like this. Both of you are aware that you don't have much time left, but you're not in a rush. Rather, you take the opportunity to enjoy this moment thoroughly. It takes a while for you to get used to Angell's sheer size, and it also takes her a while to get used to these unfamiliar sensations.

Angell is barely able to conceal the pure ecstasy she feels when you start moving. Your pussy is just so tight. She's not one to masturbate often, but she can say with confidence that being inside of you feels miles better and much more personal than rutting into her hand just to get rid of her morning wood.

You take Angell down to the base, albeit with much difficulty at first, and start off by grinding. You roll your hips back and forth, the tip of her cock almost kissing the entrance of your cervix. Angell grips your waist harder, but still lets you control the pace of your lovemaking. Her trust in you makes your heart flutter.

With Angell's hair splayed like flowing rivers on the sheets, her eyes fluttered shut, and soft moans escaping her mouth now and then, you aren't able to resist the desire to kiss her. It starts with a small smooch on her neck, then two. And then these kisses turn into hickeys one after another.

The feeling is weird and alien to Angell, but she surrenders herself to you all the same, even tilting her head to make it easier for you. You feel bad about leaving them in such obvious places, but knowing her, she wouldn't bother to hide them. And you'd be right, because if anything, Angell would wear them as a badge of honor. Who cares what other people think of her sex life?

Up, and down. Up, and down. You move your hips at a steady pace once you get the hang of it. You relish in the way the sides of her cockhead rub against your walls so deliciously. As you're straddling Angell and leaving more hickeys wherever you can access, she gets an idea to play with your clit while you ride her. You seemed to like having it stimulated earlier.

Soon after, the both of you are a moaning mess. This small gesture makes everything feel a hundred times better for you, and in turn, you move faster. You lift yourself enough so her tip is barely inside of you, and immediately bring yourself down again.

Angell curses under her breath. She holds onto you as if you'll disappear otherwise, chanting your name like a mantra; like a sinner begging for forgiveness. The sight of you bouncing up and down on her cock while looking down at her so lovingly is enough to make the inexperienced woman swoon.

"I'm close..." Angell warns. You don't care. In fact, you seem to be riding her harder; trying to milk her for all she's worth. "Want you inside." You lean forward to kiss her. Angell chases after your lips fervently, her hands holding you close as you continue to move your hips while her thumb presses down on your clitoris.

You swallow each other's muffled moans. The only thing that matters to the both of you in this moment is one another. You'd freeze time and stay like this with Angell for eternity if you could. She cums with a strained groan, and you feel her seed filling you up. It's oddly comforting to know that Angell has left a mark inside of you.

You continue your ministrations slowly, and yoi have an orgasm of your own soon after. The mixture of you and Angell's fluids form a white ring on the base of her cock. It doesn't take long until the two of you collapse next to each other, breathing heavily as sweat runs down both of your bodies.

Although you feel refreshed, you have no idea how to handle this. Your relationship with Angell, your return to the MBCC, everything. The confusion is understandable considering you literally just slept with your kidnapper who's been holding you captive. You'll cross that bridge when you get there, you suppose.

Seeing Angell stare at you, most likely with no idea how to proceed either, you feel like you should say something. "That was great, Angell. Thank you." She smiles at your words before pulling you into a cuddle. Angell really is just like a cat, you think to yourself.

With these thoughts in mind, your impulse to scratch her behind the ears just like you would to a stray cat on the side of the road win. Before you can retract your hand to apologize, Angell leans into your touch, sighing contently. You swear you hear her purr, even.

"You really... don't want to stay at the Bureau?" You ask. You regret letting those words leave your mouth, but you can't bring yourself to care now that you're running out of time. You're more than willing to fight for her. "You'll be safe. You can have my red bean soup any time you want."

Angell knows that you mean each word that you say. You won't let anyone from the dark web bother her, and even though you have responsibilities, she knows that you'll fulfill your promise. That's why it hurts.

"Tomorrow. I'll give you my answer tomorrow." Angell speaks up, just as you start to fear that you might've ruined this intimate moment. Her words give you hope. It's faint, but it's there. You'd like to say that you wouldn't, but you'd cling to any chance to spend more time with Angell; have her by your side even if only for a second more.

However, the woman has already made an irreversible decision: one that she fears has consequences that she'll be carrying for the rest of her life. For now, both of you are content with your current state.

"Stay with me," Angell mumbles, trying to enjoy your scent and affection the best her tired body can manage. A thought passes both of your minds as you're entangled in each other's embrace: it'd be nice if we could stay like this forever. It saddens Angell to know that that thought would only be left as an 'if.' "Just for a bit longer."

"Tomorrow" never comes. Tomorrow will never come without you by her side.

Angell wakes up. The bag containing her trusted blade is held near her body. She finds that she hasn't been able to let go of it ever since you've left her—or rather, ever since she left you. It's the only thing left of the time you spent together. It's the only thing that assures Angell that you were real, not just an illusion.

A lot of things have changed. She finds herself sleeping more. Angell clings to her memories with you through dreams, even trying to "make" new ones whenever the chance presents itself. She's also taken less assassination jobs lately, instead picking odd jobs that you'd be likely to choose for her.

Angell remembers the last one she took. The man was a leader of a drug cartel, infamous for getting young sinners addicted and using them to transport goods. The world would be better off without him, and Angell was no different. He had a wife and a toddler son. He called for his wife's name before he drew his final breath. Perhaps he too was but another victim of the cruelty of this side of the world—perhaps he too wanted to escape the void of the dark oceans and live under the sun's warmth.

Angell is too far gone. A shark cannot start living on land, no matter how much it wishes. She belongs in a bottomless abyss where the sun must not pierce through, while you belong on the other side of this fucked up world, risking your life to save everyone that can be saved. Angell is not a part of that group. She feels your sunlight faintly, but as much as she wants to bask in it, it cannot pierce through the deep waters of her heart. It must not.

Maybe things could've turned out differently if she met you earlier.

Angell stands up from the dusty couch. She is the only one in this desolate home. You're not there to scold her for sleeping on the sofa when she has a clean bed. Not even her goldfish keeps her company on these cold nights—but she trusts that you've taken good care of them. You've always taken care of everyone around you, but who's going to do the same for you?

Particles of dust float in her apartment. She finds that there's no reason to clean it up. Once again, her fridge is full of nearly expired, barely edible "food." As Angell gets ready to head out, she sees her reflection in the shards of broken glass on the floor. It was from a vase that came with the safehouse that she knocked over and forgot to clean. Huh. It looks like she's been crying.

You wake up in a cold sweat. The coolness of your desk against your cheek is unpleasant. The arm you've been using as a pillow is numb. You scramble to sit up straight and look at the time: 2:48AM. Most of the Bureau is asleep. A blanket that you didn't even realize was resting on your shoulders falls off of you, most likely Adjutant Nightingale trying to make sure you don't catch a cold.

On a tray set apart from the paperwork you had been working on, there is a note, a sandwich, and a cup of iced coffee. You assume the perpetrator is the same as the person who wrapped a blanket around you, and as it seems from reading the note, you were right. The contents are a mix of Nightingale's concern for you and scolding you for not taking care of your well-being.

You feel bad for worrying her all the time. Honestly, you're surprised she hasn't resigned yet with how often you get kidnapped. It's not just Nightingale either, even some sinners have noticed the bags under your eyes and how distant you've been acting ever since you came back. You should really pull yourself together. If not for yourself, then for the sinners who rely on you, the Chief of the MBCC.

Why do you keep dreaming about Angell? You've been betrayed many times before, and although you'll never get used to it, you've always gotten back up each time quicker than the last. What is it about her that's so different? Why does she affect you so much?

You open your laptop with a newfound sense of determination, but this time, it's not for work. If you want to stop a problem, you should tackle the source of it, right? Or maybe that's just an excuse. You're going to find her, and along with her, answers. After you press the 'enter' key, the simple yet eerie screen you've grown familiar with welcomes you back:

"Welcome to DisMyth"

[mosaickiwi]

Hi again! Hope you've been doing okay!

First off I just wanna say that you always deliver, I mean "Fall Unto Me"?? Four part+an epilogue of me being torn between wanting to baul my eyes out and wanting to melt into a puddle from the feels :')

But as for the request, could I ask for Angel and [REDACTED] redecorating his appartment? Getting rid of the gaudy furniture once and for all!

Don't forget to drink water and take breaks whenever you need to! My brain is also 105% filled with this skrunkly but the trick is to keep two neurons in a cell reserved for this >:] /silly

HEHE I’ve been ok! Hope you are too!! <3 thank u for appreciating my (deranged) brainrotting fic c: the suffering is my favorite part. I’m drinking lots of water cause summer hates my ass. 💖 Also sorry this is long I am clearly not winning at the "be normal" challenge.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Redecorating

“This one?”

The dark haired man peered at the laptop in your hands for a long moment. “It's… nice.”

“Yes…? You called the last three couches nice, too. Any other thoughts?” You gently goaded your partner.

Choosing new furniture with [REDACTED] was supposed to be easy. You'd pick something, and he'd agree. Except you wanted it to feel like home for both of you. He didn't have to say the mushy, obvious line: as long as you were there, it was home. So progress was challenging with some things. You were sitting together on the current couch—the ugly, lifeless one that came with his apartment for some reason. 

His brow crinkled as he searched for different words. Those soft blue eyes went back and forth across the screen until he said, “It’s cozy yet functional.”

“Did you just summarize the description to me?”

He confessed to the crime with a sigh. “Angel, all I think when I look at it is you. And how cute you'd look sitting on it. Like y’do right now.”

“I'm always cute. Focus on the couch, please. Not me,” you insisted.

“No promises.”

“Let's see…” You had to find some way to get through to them. An idea came to mind that you knew he wouldn't like very much, but you had to try. “Pretend we're not dating. Or maybe I don't exist? You come home—don't make that face! I said pretend—so, you come home after a very terrible day and you see this couch. Is it nice then?”

[REDACTED] still made that face as he answered you. “Annoying as fuck to clean.”

It was progress. You didn't want to dwell on why that would be what they thought about after getting home. “Did the first one I showed you seem annoying to clean?”

“Mm... a bit.” They reached forward to change the webpage back for another look. “Y’never showed me these.” 

You leaned over to see what he was talking about. There were a few humongous bean bag chairs on the furniture wish list you’d made. “I just thought they looked fun to take a nap in. But I’m not sure we’d both fit, so it’d be silly," you explained and tapped the mouse to continue skimming through your other selections. “We can think about the couch later. I found some wall art that doesn’t look like it came from a dentist’s office.”

His eyes carefully followed the scrolling page until the bean bags disappeared at the bottom of the screen, but he didn’t protest.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

The new furniture had arrived—and been efficiently assembled by your boyfriend, despite your protest—while you were at the library, so you were excited to get home. [REDACTED] held one hand over your eyes as he unlocked the apartment’s door.

“I already know what all the furniture looks like, Ren.” Even so, you didn’t wave their hand away.

You could hear the door click as he guided you into the foyer. “I may have added a few extra things,” he hummed while you blindly struggled and failed to take off your shoes. “Actually… close your eyes f’me.”

“O—kayy?!” Just as you closed your eyes the floor slipped away under you, replaced by familiar arms cradling you to their chest. His quiet footsteps barely echoed against the marble as you got your wits about you. The living room wasn’t that far, so you were certain where he took you without seeing anything. You just didn’t know where exactly in the room.

They turned and came to a stop, rooted in place for a moment as if thinking to themself. “Y’gonna scream if I drop you?” 

“...Yes. Maybe.”

Without another word he let go. There wasn’t enough time to scream as you immediately landed against plush fabric with the faint crinkle of something below it. The fabric crinkled some more as you felt your shoes being taken off.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” you asked. You could already tell what one of the ‘extra things’ was. It felt like heaven.

“Sure, love.” Their voice was a little farther away than you expected. Probably from hurrying to put your shoes in the closet.

You found yourself nestled on one side of the room, with a perfect view of his handiwork.

A couch that was easy to clean, in a color you insisted he decide on, draped with a luxurious looking blanket that wasn’t in your list. A coffee table with rounded corners so they wouldn’t keep hitting their leg on it. Some wall art of Attack on Giants—with extra pieces from a show you sort of recognized, but definitely suited the man's tastes. A few shelves to show off merchandise from another of your favorites. And the enormous, navy blue bean bag he’d so rudely dropped you in moments ago.

Your darling hacker stepped in from the foyer and tossed their hoodie onto the new couch. “Everything good?” he asked, piercings pulling up in a smile.

“I think I love it.” Your eyes scanned the room again and eventually landed on the pictures. “And I love that you added your own stuff.” It didn’t seem to be a clone of your apartment that he just happened to live in, like you worried about. “What about you?”

“S’better than before. ‘Course, the best part is that I don’t have t’see some shitty couch when I open the door—I get to come home to you, trapped in a bean bag.” He stood up and walked over, eyeing you playfully from above. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, then immediately yelped when he fell forwards. Just before you were squished, he caught himself on tattooed arms, caging you in the crinkly, soft material. You only felt some of their weight on you like a heavy blanket. A soft laugh slipped past your lips as he got comfortable himself, clinging to you as best he could while you both sank further into the depths of the bean bag. It’d be impossible to get out.

You wiggled your legs, straining to even find the damn floor. No doubt a futile effort, you had to sigh, “At least we both fit on it."

[REDACTED] didn’t speak, already yawning from the exhaustion of setting everything up before meeting you at work. The walk to and from the library certainly didn’t do him any favors, either. In a matter of seconds, he was fast asleep in what surely felt akin to a nest, all four lanky limbs wrapped around you like a snake.

[moongumi]

I love the idea of a perv ghost or graves. like stealing underwear and shit but the reader is into that 🤤

a/n: why not both ehe, grave's a little different i didn't want it to be so similar to ghosts'

not proofread!

↳ ⁀➷ ∵  ❝they like your drawers❞

∵ GHOST ∵

It wasn't uncommon for you to lose your drawers, you often did your laundry in big loads at the end of the week and sometimes they just go missing. But it was that last time, it irked you.

You walk into the laundry room after a long day of doing paperwork, the boring stuff to get your clothes from the dryer. on base the entire building would share the laundry room so it wasn't uncommon to run into different people, you didn't really expect to run into the LT though.

"Sir." You say, walking past him on his way out. He replies to you with a brisk nod. Then when you look at the machine you were using it was slightly open, what the hell?

You got your items, folding your uniform and pyjamas to find all your underwear missing. You groan, rolling your eyes. It couldn't have been him, right? Why the hell would he want—unless he fancied you but...it's Ghost, he wouldn't—well he might actually.

You're only annoyed because you're running out of panties.

The next time you run into him in the laundry room again but this time you're sat right in front of the laundry machine, waiting for the wash to finish to move your clothes to the dryer. You came later than usual, the time you tend to finish doing laundry to try to catch the culprit and well, Ghost stands there frozen as if he wasn't expecting you here.

"Evening, LT."

Ghost grumbles, but responds. "Sergeant."

"Doing laundry?" You ask, looking down at his empty hands with your brows raised. It was obvious now that it was him. Even with his mask and unreadable posture you can just tell.

You stand up leaning against the laundry machine as you unload your wet clothes into the dryer waiting for his response.

He only huffs, muttering to himself incoherently.

You finish your task and take leave your basket a top the dryer, it would take about an hour and half to finish the drying so you were going to leave, do something else while you wait.

You made sure to bump into Ghost on your way out, apologising insincerely, "Sorry, Sir. I should be more careful."

He doesn't say a thing, taking your impact like a tank. You don't see the way he lets out a massive sigh of relief not being caught, or so he thought. When you're gone he felt a bulge in his pants—not the usual bulge but something in the pocket of his cargos.

He reaches in with his bone painted gloves, ragging out a handful of unwashed underwear. He gulps, looking at them. He can't help the way his cock twitches at them, usually he gets them washed—dried but...these were fresh. He can't help but imagine how he was going to fuck his own fists with your panties buried in it. There is a handful of them, he was definitely going to pretend to eat you out with the fabric on his face later.

∵ GRAVES ∵

Your commander is annoying, he talks too much and can't keep his opinions to himself.

It was when you were leant over in the cockpit looking over at the pilot's dashboard. You look behind you, "We're approaching five klicks from target, Commander!"

It's the look on his face, the way he probably didn't even hear you. He's just looking at you with that shit-eating grin on his face. "You wear a thong to work, Lieutenant?" He smirks, looking back at his shadows shamelessly. "Boys, LT. wears the cutest little thong under her uniform."

Your eye practically twitch. Under your mask you sneer with annoyance as he laughs along with the team. You stand, walking back towards the cabin. "Anyone that laughs, I'll make sure doesn't come back alive." After all, you were above all their ranks but Graves.

They all shut up almost immediately, watching the way you glare daggers into Graves as you sat down. Graves lets you order the boys around, scare 'em. It's good practice.

He still smiles, that little shit. He takes his helmet off and sits down right next to you, purposely right up against the side of your body and hits your leg with his teasingly.

"Got anymore of 'em?" He whispers, his head bumping into yours.

You grunt, crossing your arms. "Shut up."

"You never wear 'em for me."

You scoff, looking him in those pretty eyes of his. "Cause, you don't deserve my nice underwear. I only wear 'em for special occasions."

"Who the fuck are ya wearin' em for then?" He's got a stitch in his brow. You like pissing him off, like pissing off a chihuahua but this dog bites pretty damn hard.

You lean towards him, bumping your forehead against the side of his head. "Who knows, maybe the captain of that team you hate so much."

"Don't you fuckin'—"

You stand to interrupt him, you can feel him seething next to you. "Let's go shadows! Let's take this fuckin' place."

During the mission you can hear how irritated Graves seemed and especially when he stands with you by his side giving Task Force 141 some respect after completing the mission with them. He keeps looking at you from the corner of his eyes as if daring to you fuckin' say something right now to the Captain.

You stand there popping your hip with your hand against the end of your rifle as it acts as a support, you turn your head pretending to make eyes at the Captain and overly nodding. "It was nice serving by your side, Captain."

You can hear Grave's kiss his tongue over his teeth. When you see him from the corner of your eyes his jaw was tight, clenching.

When the Captain gives you his regards, a flirty smile and a nod with his hat you beamed, more at the thought of how mad Graves probably was. It's when you stand and wave towards their squad that you feel Graves coming up to your side, his hand rolling up your hip before he grips it tightly.

You can feel his fingers looking for something, but he can't seem to find it. His brows furrow. Your hand comes up beside him, dropping his prize into his hand. "You wanted it right?"

You smile under the mask pushing off him. He holds it in his hand and you think you can see his cheeks redden. But then he notices you're walking away from him. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"To show that Captain how good my ass looks without 'em on." You point to the panties in Graves' hand and you swear you can see steam coming out of his ears.

He practically chases you down, grabbing you by your belt and holding you against him. You could feel it, pressing against your hip.

"You like making me jealous, don't you?"

"I like seeing you possessive, Sir, " You remark before nodding towards the panties still in his grip. "I'll need those back."

"Nah, they're mine now." He brings it up to his face, pressing his lips against them. "You can ride on the helo back without 'em. maybe instead my hands between your legs, hm?

[synthetickitsune]

Joshua (Seventeen) | Nicknames fluff | 0.9k words | gn!reader A/N: @hanniedream we're even now, stop indulging my brainrot or we'll get stuck here >:(

You feel his eyes on you while you’re saying goodbye to his friends. It’s nothing new, Joshua generally likes to keep his eyes on you to make sure you’re alright, especially as the night draws to an end. But when you meet his gaze this time, something is wrong. It’s just a flash of something you can’t decipher in his eyes before it’s gone and he smiles warmly at you, inviting you into his open arms. When you close the distance between you, he pulls you close and kisses the top of your head before waving the guys goodbye. 

Once the doors are closed, he holds you just for a second longer so you can’t escape, chuckling at your weak attempts to struggle out of his arms. You don’t move far, just enough to look at him.

“Is everything alright?” you ask him. He tilts his head a little.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he seems confused, his thumbs stroking your waist to provide comfort.

“I don’t know, you looked a little upset for a second there,” you explain and he seems to immediately catch up, shaking his head with another smile.

“I think I’m just tired and wanted them gone already.”

You don’t think that’s all there is to it, but you let it go. You don’t have any proof, and besides - you’re a bit tired too. It’s easy to let the worry melt away when Joshua holds you in bed, your back against his chest and his lips meeting the skin of your neck between every word he speaks.

Truth be told, you forget about the incident the next day and don’t think about it anymore. Largely because Joshua now makes an effort not to make you worry. It’s childish anyway, and so he pays attention to his expression any time he sees you interact with your or his friends. It’s nothing, and you’re cute. No need to make you worry. 

You only remember now that you see the same look on Joshua’s face that he had that evening after you get off the phone with your best friend. The slight frown on his face, his lips turned downwards. You wouldn’t say he looks hurt, but it’s not far from it. His eyes immediately grow wide like he’s a deer caught in the headlights when he realizes you saw and he opens his mouth to speak, but no words leave him. 

“Shua, what happened?” you whisper. You put your phone down on the counter, but before you can go to him, he’s already standing in front of you. Wordlessly he helps you jump onto the counter before stepping between your legs and caging you in. You blink at him, suddenly flustered by his closeness and the position as he rests his forehead against yours. “Shua?”

“You never use any nicknames for me,” he states with a slight sigh. Better to rip the bandaid off, he figures. “You give everyone else one, though. Why not me? You don’t even call me Joshie anymore.”

You stare at him, stare at the soft look in his eyes, the slight pout to his lips. He doesn’t sound upset but it’s obvious it’s bothering him, and you wonder for how long did he let it steep inside him. 

“Is that it?” you ask, not laughing, not judging, just making sure.

“Yeah,” he whines a little, “It’s stupid but it’s been on my mind for a while. Why don’t you call me anything but my name?”

“I heard you mention you don’t care about nicknames much, so I thought you’d prefer if I called you by your name,” you try to remember what was the occasion, but your memory fails you.

“Sounds like something I’d say,” Joshua hums in acknowledgement, soothing your worries by rubbing his hand across your thighs, “But I think I’d like it if you called me something sweet. Something simple.”

“My love?” you try immediately, laughing at the spark in his eyes when they meet yours. “Just love?”

He thinks it over before prompting you to say both again. His smile grows while he listens with his eyes closed, blindly leaning closer to you until his lips are on yours.

“I like when you call me yours,” he smiles into the kiss. He doesn’t pull too far away after you part.

“Just mine then,” you tease, cracking up at the sight of his offended face. His lips part and he scoffs.

“You can lose your partner privileges as fast as you get them.”

“I’m not the one who was whining about not being called anything but my name, Joshua,” you point out. However, seeing the playfulness drop from his face, you reach your arms out and hug him. “You’re cute, my love.”

He hums, his hands sliding down your thighs and to your back, returning the hug with more strength than you were prepared for. You squeak, but he doesn’t let go, not until he leaves a lingering kiss on your cheek. “I like that one.”

“I’ll experiment around with them, this one just felt right for the first one,” you promise, squeezing his shoulders, “Feel better now?”

“No longer feels like my own partner is excluding me, yeah,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. You smack his shoulder lightly and roll your eyes. You stop yourself from asking if he’s going to hold this against you for long - even though it was his fault for not bringing it up sooner. “I love you, my love.”

“I love you too,” you smile. It really does sound nice.

[justporo]

Hey you :D

Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖

How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.

Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.

Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:

Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)

Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.

He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you

You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection

But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!

It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.

Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.

But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain

And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often

It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate

You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."

Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious

This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it

Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you

Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour

Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe

Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles

When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection

The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.

You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you

From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.

There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!

[russellsppttemplates]

Hiii, would be comfortable with writing something about the reader not having a good relationship with her parents but loves her in laws and they are basically like her parents, thank you

Note: I have this plotline for Pierre, there are other pieces you can read as well about this too if you haven't read yet and want to read more 🤍

Cw: reader has a bad relationship with her family/has cut ties with her family

"Have you decided what you want to have in the tables?", Pascale asked as she brewed some tea for the two of you, watching Jean and Pierre working on the grill outside.

"Not really, we've seen a few arrangements, and we know what we don't like - especially those really big things where you kind of can't see the person in front of you", you scrunched up your face and she giggled, "it's not the priority on our list, but we're going through all of it in due time", you said, "It has been hard not having anyone else to discuss it with - Pierre only cares so much about how it all looks", you shrugged before composing yourself, "don't get me wrong, he's been very involved, he's been to all of the meetings with the wedding planner and the only thing he isn't involved in is the dress try-on for obvious reasons".

"No need to be so flustered, dear", your soon to be mother in-law soothed your worries quickly, "it's nice to know he's been helping, I knew he would after he asked me a couple of questions", she winked, "you never have to worry about asking for help or opinions - I'd love to to and pick the dress with you if you'd like me to be there", she offered, not wanting to step on any toes.

"I'm glad you're in my life", you spoke up, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. All of the day to day jokes about mothers in-law you grew up hearing and laughing about were surely not written about the lady in you had in front of you.

"Chérie, we're the lucky ones to have you in our lives - there's no one else I'd love to be with Pierre", Pascale smiled, hugging you and rubbing your back gently.

.

"I like this one," Anna said, looking at the dress you were wearing. The look on your face however didn't match her excitment, "It's not it, is it?", Alexandra offered as you twirled around, not like the naked back detail.

You shook your head and walked back to the dressing room, shoulders slumping at yet another attempt to try on your dress. Was your body the problem? Did you have a funny taste in wedding fashion?

On your way to the curtained area, you tripped on the dress, quickly balancing yourself before actually falling over, checking if you had done any damage to the dress, "just because it doesn't look right on you it doesn't mean you should rip it, Y/N", you muttered to yourself.

"Chérie", Pascale called, "can I talk to you for a bit?", she asked before you nodded, letting her grab your hand, "It's ok, beautiful girl, there are lots of dresses. We will find the one you like the most and that is the one for you", she said rubbing your hand in a comforting manner.

You nodded and looked up, keeping the tears at bay, "thank you", you sighed, squeezing her hand.

The last dress was not one you would usually go for even though you still picked it from the hangers, finding the ties and undoing then enough so you could try it on. You slid the dress on carefully and pulled the ties as tight as you could, pushing your boobs a little so they would fall into the moulded cups. As you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful in it. The bodice fit perfectly, hugging your waist beautifully before fanning out on your hips, and the train wasn't too long, just the right amount to elongate your presence. It felt soft against your skin, and once the lacing on the back was properly done up, it would feel secure and delicate.

Giggling softly, you walked out to meet the group again.

"I think she found it", your soon to be sister in-law Charlotte smiled she saw your radiant smile, "I just need help with the back", you said, turning around so Pascale could help you as she immediately got up and delicately threaded up the laces on he back.

"It's beautiful, Y/N, you look so beautiful", Pascale whispered, "It's like it was made for you," Alexandra clapped her hands excitedly, "This the one", your murmured, twirling around happily in front of the mirror.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Chapter 2 Part 1 Preview

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not a full translation.

Mai: "Huh?"

Kenshin lifted my chin.

Kenshin: "I can't bear the thought of others seeing your smile."

Mai: "Nnn."

Our lips met, and a sweet shiver ran down my spine.

(We're in front of everyone!)

I tried to twist away in surprise, but Kenshin's arm wrapped around my back, holding me still.

(He's not letting go!)

Even though I felt flustered, my thoughts melted with each kiss he placed on my lips.

Mai: "Nn…ahh…"

Kenshin: "Still chirping, are you?"

(And whose fault is that?)

His tongue slipped between my parted lips.

The soft, wet sounds of our tongues intertwining tickled my ears.

Kenshin: "It seems you've finally quieted down."

I looked up at Kenshin's smiling face through my blurry vision.

Mai: "Doing that in front of everyone was pretty awful of you."

Kenshin: "No one's watching."

Mai: "There's no way."

Hideyoshi & Masamune: ".........."

Ieyasu & Keiji: "..........."

(He's right! Everyone is looking away!)

Feeling even more embarrassed, I squirmed in his arms.

Kenshin: "What are you doing? I won't allow you to leave me."

Mai: "Kenshin, we agreed to wait until later!"

Kenshin: "True, you promised to do anything I wanted later, but you were just too adorable."

(Don't say something like that with a straight face!)

Despite the situation, the tenderness in his gaze made my chest tighten.

It felt like my heart was brimming with happiness from being in his warmth again.

(I really do love him.)

I accepted his melting kiss again, which quickly turned into something deeper, leaving me feeling weak.

Sasuke: "Five minutes have passed. Time's up."

(Sasuke!?)

Kenshin frowned as Sasuke interrupted.

Kenshin: "What do you mean, time's up?"

Sasuke: "Time's up. Please let her go."

(He's right, it's time to let go.)

Mai: "Thanks, Sasuke. You saved me. Kyaah!"

Kenshin pulled me back into his arms as I tried to pull away.

Kenshin: "Nonsense. I have no intention of letting Mai go."

Sasuke: "You're as tyrannical as ever."

Kenshin: "Oh? Are you asking me to cut you down?"

Kanetsugu: "Sasuke, accept your fate and face the consequences of your betrayal."

Sasuke: "No thanks."

Sasuke leapt back, putting some distance between himself and Kenshin.

Ieyasu: "*sigh* How long do I have to keep looking away like this?"

Keiji: "We have no choice but to wait until they're satisfied."

Keiji: "No one can stop their love."

Hideyoshi: "No, enough. We should've stopped this from the start, especially since we're in front of Lord Nobunaga."

Masamune: "Meddling in their love life will get you in trouble, you know?"

Mitsuhide: "Only one person is getting in trouble, and that's Hideyoshi."

Nobunaga: "Hideyoshi, it's fine. Let them be."

(Nobunaga!?)

Hideyoshi, seeing Nobunaga unperturbed, shifted in his seat.

Hideyoshi: "Is that really okay?"

Nobunaga: "Kenshin has stated that he would assist in pacifying the situation for Mai, depending on the conditions."

Nobunaga: "Let Mai, our lucky charm, enjoy this moment."

Keiji: "Lord Nobunaga sure is generous!"

Ieyasu: "*sigh* They should just go home already."

Masamune: "Mai, you'll stay, right? I'll treat you to some delicious food tonight."

Mitsunari: "A feast, then! Let's get ready right away."

Kenshin: "This is ridiculous."

Kenshin's eyes shone ominously.

Kenshin: "Our business here is done. We're returning to Kasugayama Castle."

Mai: "Waah!"

Kenshin lifted me and started walking.

Mai: "Kenshin, I can walk by myself!"

Kenshin: "Oh? But just a moment ago, you were slumped in my arms."

Kenshin: "Am I wrong?"

Mai: "T-That's..."

(It's because you did that.)

Kenshin: "If you don't want me to see you stumbling, then behave yourself."

Kenshin: "Or are you dissatisfied?"

Mai: "Don't read me so easily. It’s embarrassing!"

(I know that shaking my head here won't help.)

(I've been blushing the whole time, so I'm sure everything's obvious.)

Kenshin, wearing a faint smile, gently pressed his lips to my forehead.

Mai: ".........."

Kenshin: "I refuse. Every one of your adorable expressions and emotions belongs to me."

Kenshin: "It's pointless to act shy. You can’t escape me."

Sasuke: "That sounds like a villain's line."

Kanetsugu: "Lord Kenshin's words are absolute; there is no good or evil in them."

Sasuke: "As expected from the serious Kanetsugu."

Kanetsugu: "Well, I'm his loyal vassal."

As Kenshin continued walking, Sasuke and Kanetsugu followed him.

Nobunaga: "Kenshin, wait."

(Huh?)

Kenshin: "What is it?"

When Kenshin turned around, Nobunaga fixed a strong gaze on him.

Nobunaga: "Thank you for taking care of this."

Nobunaga: "I will surely achieve unification."

(Nobunaga is thanking him!?)

Kenshin: "..........."

Kenshin: "Don't forget that I said I would assist depending on the conditions."

Nobunaga: "Of course. And Mai..."

Mai: "Y-Yes!?"

Nobunaga: "Take care, and may happiness keep finding you."

Mai: "Um, I'll do my best!"

I bowed my head from Kenshin's arms toward the smiling Nobunaga.

Hideyoshi: "Mai, once you've settled down, come visit us sometime."

Masamune: "Next time, I'll cook you something delicious."

Ieyasu: "It's cold over there, so don't catch a cold."

Mitsunari: "Please take care of yourself and stay healthy."

Mai: "Thank you, everyone!"

(I want to visit again soon.)

Kenshin: "That's enough. Let's go."

[silentglassbreak]

Well guys, you let me write your delulu fan fantasies, and it was an absolute blast. I had the best time with it, and hope to open myself to doing that again someday. Thank you all for letting me bring some semblance of your fantasies to life. It means the world to me!

Now…I think it’s only fair that I write mine.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None.

Breathe

The last three days had been a blur. They’d been exciting, exhilarating, and unbelievably fun…but they were so exhausting.

Flying all the way out to Grand Rapids…amid a cyber defect, no less…delayed flight, no one can take cards, two days at a rock music festival…I was beat.

Nicole and I had been planning this trip for months, and it felt like regardless of how many things we did right, we were fighting against some unseen force against us. Everything we tried to do was halted at each turn, and it had become rather annoying.

Despite all of the mishaps, we had persevered, determined to enjoy ourselves against any and all odds. We got to listen to great music, meet some bands, and ate the most disgusting food the festival had to offer.

It was a dream.

By the drive back to the hotel after day two of Upheaval, we were sitting in near-silence, the radio humming low in the vehicle.

"Babes?" I looked over to Nicole. "We need to eat."

I groaned in response, sinking further into my seat. "Sounds dumb. I want to sleep."

She chuckled. "Same, but if we don't eat, we're going to feel like shit tomorrow."

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes toward the pitch darkness outside the window of the rental. "you're right."

She smirked. "As always."

I sucked my teeth. "Can we at least shower first?"

Back at the hotel, we each took our time scrubbing the day off of us, erasing the sweat and makeup left from the weekend. I slipped into my heavy sweats and black crop-top, beads of water still falling from my long, dark hair. Nicole was rubbing moisturizer into her skin, standing in front of the bathroom mirror as I ran my fingers bluntly through my hair.

"I don't want to eat Taco Bell again." Her voice was pleading, and I snickered.

"Same, dude. But what else is open?"

She picked up her phone, opening Google Maps, and scrolling through.

"IHOP?"

I sighed. "It was so bad when we ate there on Thursday..."

She nodded, pursing her lips. "I know, dude. Let me keep looking." Her fingers swiped the screen. "That Denny's looked fucking scary."

I laughed, walking out of the bathroom and grabbed my wallet from my purse, stuffing it in my pocket.

"Oooh!" She stepped into the room, a smile on her face. "There's a TGIFridays open! Only for like, another hour? But if we eat fast, we can make it."

The restaurant was desolate, only one other large SUV in the parking lot. Before opening my door, I slipped my phone from my pocket and checked the screen.

No notifications.

"Have you heard from him?"

I just shook my head, re-locking the phone, and putting it in my pocket. Her look was sympathetic.

"He's an idiot. Don't even worry about it, babe." She put a hand on my arm. "That's a 'tomorrow you' problem."

I nodded, giving her a small smile. "I know. Thanks, Nic."

We walked into the restaurant, eyes glancing around and seeing only one table in the corner filled with no less than five men laughing and eating. Craning my neck around, I searched for the server.

"You think they'll even seat us this late?"

Nicole shrugged, eyes trained on the table with the patrons. "Don't know."

She was distracted, so I stepped forward toward the host stand, looking around toward the bar.

"October..." Her voice was small, just above a whisper.

I didn't look back at her, my empty stomach motivating me to keep checking for the employee. "Hmm?"

A hand gripped my wrist, which made my head snap back to her. "I need you to, discreetly, look over at the table of guys in the corner."

I furrowed my brows, looking her directly in the eyes. "What? Why?"

Her face was stern. "Just do it, but don't be obvious."

Exhaling a breath, I continued searching around the restaurant, letting my eyes fall on the table for only a split second longer than anywhere else.

I counted six men, all black t-shirts and hoodies. Three of them wearing black baseball caps. Half of them were sitting with their backs turned to me, but my eyes caught one of them facing our direction, hands air-drumming feverishly in front of him.

He looked so...familiar?

I stole another glance, and my eyes widened.

"Is that...?"

"Nick Folio." Her voice whispered to me.

I averted my eyes to the floor, hand rising to cover my mouth. "Oh my God."

"If he's here, that means it's them."

I couldn't process that.

Bad Omens was my favorite band. Nearly the entire reason I had flown sixteen hundred miles to a state I had never been. I ground my teeth together, shutting my eyes.

"No fucking way, dude. We just saw them at the festival." I let my eyes look up at her, and she smirked.

"Well, clearly, they're hungry."

"Mkay, well I'll be out in the car if you need me." My legs started for the door, but an arm hooked mine, swinging me back to my spot in front of her.

"Oh, no no no. You're not leaving."

My eyes blew wide at her. "I can't fucking be here while they are! They're my fucking heroes, Nic!"

She nodded. "Uh, fucking same! But when will we ever get an opportunity to be this close again?"

I rolled my eyes. "We're not at a zoo, Nicole. They're just guys."

I didn't even believe the words I was saying.

"Yeah?" She crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Then why leave?"

My face deadpanned, my lip pouting. "Cause I'm going to throw up."

She chuckled at this, eyes darting back to the guys, completely oblivious to our turmoil unfolding fifty feet away.

"We should talk to them."

My heart fell straight to my gut. "I beg your finest pardon?"

She shrugged, considering me. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh, we interrupt their meal and I die of a stroke?"

This time, she rolled her eyes. "If you don't go say hello, I'm going to do it."

My brain short circuited. We couldn't have that. Who knew what Nicole's unhinged mouth would say to them...

"Can't I just eat and go? Pretend I didn't even see them?"

"And you'll never forgive yourself. You can't be this close to Noah Sebastian, and not tell him how much his music means to you."

I chewed on my lower lip.

"C'mon, babe. It'll be fine, and I'll be there with you!"

I steadied myself, wiping my hands on my pants. "Okay. Okay, I will."

I turned, looking directly at the table. The server had finally emerged, a tray full of plates in his hand. I waited as he set them all down, and he finally approached us.

"Sorry about that wait, guys. Just two?"

Nicole nodded, given I was nearly catatonic. The short, blonde man led us to a booth, only two away from the table I was dreading. He handed us menus, and took our drink orders.

"Before or after food?" Nicole asked as she scanned her menu.

"Can't you just do it?" I grimaced. "Without being a weirdo?"

She didn't even bother looking up at me. "Nope. Weird is built into my soul, sorry."

I sighed hard. "Before, then. If I eat, I will vomit all over them."

She folded her menu, and stood from the booth. "Let's go, then."

I closed my eyes, and took her outstretched hand, standing. Taking a quick second to right my hoodie - my Bad Omens hoodie - tied around my waist, I took in a hard breath.

"Alright." I squeaked out.

She led me carefully the few paces over to the table, moving behind me. I walked about four feet from them, likely looking pale as a ghost. I caught Folio's attention first, smiling awkwardly and giving a short wave.

"Hey! Can we help you guys?" His voice was upbeat and sweet as candy. Exactly how I expected.

"Hi." I cleared my throat, taking a careful step forward. My hands kneaded each other, and Nicole held a steady hand on my low back. "I'm s-so sorry to interrupt."

All heads had turned to me, and I didn't have the nerve to look to my left, where I knew Noah was sat.

"No worries!" Folio was smiling widely at me. "Are you guys fans?"

I nodded, looking down at my feet. "We are. We just saw you guys perform tonight, and I wanted to just-" My voice cut off abruptly, a catch in my throat. I swallowed hard. "We wanted to tell you how amazing you all were."

My eyes bounced to the other two men facing me. Nick Ruffilo and Matt Dierkes. They were both grinning.

"Thank you, that means a lot." Nick's voice was tired, but his smile was genuine.

Folio stood from his seat, pushing a hand out to me. "I'm Nick."

I took it with shaky fingers, feeling his grip mine tightly. "Folio, right."

He nodded. "And you are?"

Wow, I forgot my name. Smooth.

It took me a moment, but with a more certain voice, I was able to respond. "October." I let go of his hand to move to the side. "This is Nicole."

He shook her hand as well.

She smiled a toothy grin at him. "We flew from Las Vegas to see you guys."

Folio smiled wider. "Really? Wow! That's so fucking cool!"

Trying not to combust, I dared a glance slightly to the left, seeing Jolly and Bryan, who were both chewing food.

"I would introduce the rest of these guys, but I'm sure you already know who they are." Folio chuckled, and we both nodded.

"Yeah, we're familiar." I added.

"Well, that's great. Now, do you mind?"

The voice came directly from the left of me, where I had been avoiding. The tone made my blood run cold, and I felt all of my muscles tighten.

Finally, I looked over to meet his large, brown eyes. Noah looked anything but appreciative of us coming over to give our praise. In fact, he looked downright annoyed.

I couldn't process what he had said, and I stupidly asked, "Excuse me?"

He narrowed his eyes at me slightly, gesturing to the table. "Look, as much as we all appreciate it," His voice was dripping with disdain. "we're exhausted. We just want to eat so we can get out of here."

My heart had stopped beating. If I had anything in my stomach, it would have erupted out of me right then and there.

Maybe it was the jet-lag, or the fact that when I got home tomorrow, my life was actively in shambles, or maybe it was just being hungry...but I was enraged.

My hands balled into fists instinctively, trying to control my irritation, and I repainted my sweet smile.

"I'm sorry, we'll go. We just wanted to let you guys know you did great tonight. And you all are extremely talented."

He nodded, eyes now looking about as bored as they come.

"Great. Thanks." He snapped, turning his body back toward the table.

"Noah." Folio's voice was stern, and he turned back to me, an apologetic look on his face. "Don't mind him. He's cranky. You guys really aren't bothering us."

I heard the sound before I really registered what it was.

He sucked his teeth.

Oh, I see. He was a fucking child.

Now having lost all sense of nervousness, I could feel Nicole's hand tugging at my arm. "C'mon, babe."

I let myself be turned for a second, but my anger spun me back around, now facing directly toward him, which made him glance up at me like an inconvenience.

"You know," I started, sucking my own teeth in mockery. "you're not at all what I expected?"

He snickered, leaning back in his chair. "No?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nah. I expected someone with as much talent and success as you to be a decent person. Guess I was wrong."

Nicole's near silent gasp behind me was not lost, and I smirked.

"Well, sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." His voice was so nonchalant, it made my blood roar in my ears.

My hands twisted around the knot in my hoodie at my belt line, pulling it loose. I pulled it off with one hand, holding it out in front of me and let it go, leaving it to fall directly in his lap.

"Here." I caught him off guard, him looking up at me with wide eyes. "You probably want this back."

He picked it up, recognizing it was one of theirs. "Why would I want this?"

I smirked, a darkness in my eyes. "Well, you're pretty cold, Noah." I leaned down just to meet his eye level. "Might want something to warm you up before everyone realizes."

I heard a stifled snort come from the table, but I couldn't even begin to tell you who it was. Standing back up, I backed away from the table, and looked back at Folio.

"It was really nice to meet you guys. Have a safe night."

With that, I snatched Nicole's hand, and stalked away from the table, only pausing at the booth to grab my bag, before heading for the doors.

Once outside in the brisk night air, I took three large breaths, rounding the building and leaning down. My hands caught my knees, and Nicole stood in front of me.

"Holy shit!" She was nearly hysterical. "You just told off Noah Sebastian!"

Breathing hard, I fought the tears welling. It was too much all at once.

Was it that significant? No, not really. But after the year I'd been having, I couldn't handle that encounter at all.

"I want to leave. I want to go home."

"I know, babe. I'm sorry that went that way. I can't believe how much of a douche he was."

Shaking my head, I stood back up straight, wiping the moisture from my eyes. "Me either."

"Well," A voice came from behind us, and my eyes blew out, seeing him towering only a few feet away, hoodie in hand. "I don't know if I'd go as far to say douche."

My eyes squinted, jaw clicking. "I would."

He approached us slowly, holding the sweater out to me. "Take this. It's yours."

I held a hand up to him, shaking my head. "No, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "You paid good money for this. And you made your point. Take it."

I considered him, counting my breaths. He was unmoving, so I reached out, gripping the fabric.

His foot kicked at the sidewalk, hands retreating into his sweater pockets. "Look, I'm sorry." I stood, shocked. "Folio's right. I'm just cranky. I haven't eaten all day, I'm tired. You just caught me on a bad moment."

My lips tightened, and I sighed hard. "So that makes it okay to be rude to someone who just wanted to tell you how great you were?"

His teeth chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I said I was sorry."

A hand touched my arm, and I looked back at Nicole, who gave me an amused smile. "Babe? I'm going to go back in. I'm also hungry."

I just nodded, letting her walk past the both of us.

He took two steps toward me slowly, eyes fixed on my face. "Nicole, right?" He asked, without taking his eyes off of me. She stopped short in her stride. "Pull a chair up to the table, dinner's on me tonight."

I caught the small smile on her lips before she continued her trek back into the restaurant.

"Well, you all enjoy that." And I turned, ready to get into the car, when I hand caught me by my purse. I stopped, looking back at him.

"Come eat."

Stitching my eyebrows together, I crossed my arms with my sweater between, considering him.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Cause I was a douche."

I sat relatively silent at the table, munching slowly on the personal flatbread pizza I had ordered. It was one of the cheapest items on the menu, and I would be damned if I didn't somehow manage to slip him cash for it before we left.

Noah had loosened up substantially once he started eating. He was leaned back in his chair, flicking fries at Nick across the table, and participating in the conversations swirling around. Nicole, as she always did, melted into the group comfortably, sat next to Folio, and telling story after story of our trip and the festival.

"You guys seriously had to drive to an ATM to pay at the IHOP?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yep. We sure did. The guy couldn't take card, and we felt bad. We could've just not come back, but that wouldn't be good karma."

I smiled at Nicole, the memory of two nights ago flooding in. An arm bumped mine, and I looked to my left to see Noah, eyes searching my face.

"You still mad at me?"

His voice was entirely different, soft as butter and warm like a fire. I smirked, leaning my elbows on the table.

"Haven't decided yet."

He nodded, sitting up so he was sat closer to me. "Yeah? Well, you shouldn't be."

Resting my chin on my hand, I gazed at him. "Why not?"

He smiled brightly. "Cause you came all this way to see me."

This made me snort, rolling my eyes. "Uh, no. I came all this way to see Bad Omens. Which I did."

"Why fly to Michigan? We were just in Vegas in April."

I nodded. "At Sick New World. I was there." He quirked an eyebrow. "Also at the show in October."

He looked confused. "So why come to Michigan?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled a small grin. "Favorite band."

"We are?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

He smiled, smug. "I mean, not really."

I laughed, leaning back from the table. I was wearing my hoodie now, having become chilly halfway through the meal.

"Bet I can guess your favorite song?"

My eyes darted to his face, amused. "Really?" He looked so sure of himself. "Go for it."

He pursed his lips and stroked his chin dramatically, like a Medium. I tried to hide my laughter.

"Just Pretend?"

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "You think I'm that basic?"

He chuckled. "Fair enough." He stared hard at me, trying to get a read. "Death of Peace of Mind?"

Nicole raised a hand. "That one's mine!"

Both of us glanced up at her, not realizing anyone else was listening. He turned back to me, still wracking his brain.

"Dethrone?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Nowhere To Go?"

"Nope, close third, though."

"Third?!"

I giggled, a blush flushing up my neck.

"Which album is it off of?"

"Nuh-uh, that's cheating."

He threw his hands up. "How is that cheating?"

I pursed my lips. "Second album."

"Limits?"

"Bingo."

He clapped his hands together in triumph. "Ha!" He pointed at me. "Knew I'd guess it."

Laughing, I pushed him with my arm. "Yeah, after you guessed half of your songs."

We both broke out in laughter, and it occurred to me that some of the other conversations had stopped. I caught Nick in the corner yawning hard, and my eyes met Nicole's. It was time.

"Well, Noah," I looked back at him. "thank you for the food. We should get going."

His lips downturned, but I was sure I was imagining it. "Oh," He looked back at the rest of the guys. "yeah, us too. Early morning."

I nodded, standing out of my chair, everyone else following suit.

As a group, we made our way out the door, pouring out onto the sidewalk. Nicole bid goodbye to the guys, and I did the same. We hugged them each separately, Noah being last.

I wasn't sure if hugging him was appropriate, given our encounter, so I just stood in front of him while everyone else headed for the cars.

"So," I let my lips turn up in a smile.

His face mimicked mine. "This was fun."

"It was. Despite how it started, it was really great meeting you, Noah."

"You too, October."

The bill in my hand was getting sweaty, so I stepped forward, pushing it toward him. His eyes looked down at my hand, and he put his hands up.

"Oh, no. Dinner was on me."

"Please take it, Noah."

He took a step back, as if what I was holding was poisonous. "Not a chance."

Scoffing, I stepped toward him, pulling my hand back. "I don't like people paying for me."

He pursed his lips. "I'm not taking money from you." I groaned, slipping the two twenties back in my pocket. "I will, however," He looked at me from under his lashes. "take your number, if that's okay?"

I froze, my mind stopping. "Oh, uh,"

He looked as though he may run in the opposite direction, eyes becoming panicked. "You don't have to. I totally get it."

"No, no. I can give it to you." His head snapped up to look at me. "I just, uh," My face fell to stare at the ground for a moment before I spoke. "I'm not really looking for..." I trailed off.

"Oh! No! I just had a lot of fun talking to you. Figured we could keep talking? Like, friends?" His smile was nervous, and it warmed me.

"Okay."

"He asked for your number?!" Nicole nearly screamed at the windshield as she drove us back to the hotel.

I cackled. "Yeah."

"And you gave it to him?!"

I didn't verbally respond, only dropped my head in my hands.

"Holy fuck!"

"He said he just wants to be friends."

"Oh, bullshit. He fucking liked you. I could tell he was into the attitude."

I gasped. "Not true!"

"So fucking true."

"No way, dude. He's Noah Sebastian. And I'm...me."

"You're fucking amazing, I don't know what you mean." Nicole looked nearly offended.

"I know. But he just wants to talk."

She smirked. "With his dick, maybe."

The shrieking laughter that exploded out of me was a mix of shock and hilarity at her comment.

"We'll know for sure if he texts you."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "We'll see."

As fried as my nerves were, nothing was stopping me from passing out the moment my head hit the pillow of the hotel room bed. I was absolutely cooked, ready to return back to my normal life.

I had received no messages before I knocked out, so I put it out of my head. It was a fun experience, and a sweet gesture of him to take my number, but I knew the likelihood of ever hearing from him again was so slim, it wasn’t worth hoping for.

He didn’t know me, and from what I knew about Noah Sebastian, he was an extremely private person. How did he know I wouldn’t give out his number or share our messages online? I would probably pause before I did anything if I were him.

When my eyes finally cracked open, the fog settled behind my eyes slowly evaporating, I saw Nicole sat up on her bed, looking down at her phone. I grunted, rolling onto my side and pulling the blankets up to my chin.

“What time is it?”

“Nine. We don’t have to leave for the airport for another hour.” She didn’t look up at me, but she smirked when she spoke.

I yawned, letting my eyes fall closed again. “I should go back to sleep, then.”

“You could.” She set her phone in her lap. “Or, you could check your phone.”

Snuggling deeper under the covers, I stretched my legs.

“He hasn’t texted me, dude.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Your phone went off twice about half an hour ago.” She leaned back on her hands. “I already looked at the screen, and it wasn’t your Dad or…anyone else.” She spoke the last words carefully. I knew who she was referring to, and my chest squeezed at the idea.

My hand carefully reached onto the nightstand, gripping my phone. I pulled it in front of my face, tapping in the code, and letting it open. My messages icon showed two red notifications, which I opened hastily.

The messages came from an unknown number. When I opened the thread, my heart halted all its movements.

+17475558326: Hi.

+17475558326: It’s Noah.

My breathing picked back up, and I shot straight up in bed.

“Was it him?!” Nicole was bursting.

My eyes slipped over to look at her, my mouth fallen open. “It was.”

She squealed. “I can’t believe he texted you!”

My fingers shook while holding the phone, threatening to drop it in my lap. “What do I do?!”

“Fucking respond!”

I nodded, my thumbs hovering over the screen but freezing. “What do I say?!”

“Hi? I don’t fucking know?!” She looked amused. I was not.

Me: Good morning.

My finger hovered over the send button for a moment before I finally sent it. Instinctively, I tossed my phone on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest,

“Holy fuck, dude.”

She stood, walking over to my cell and checking the screen. “He’s already read it.”

“Give it.” I held my hand out, and she placed it in my palm.

His type bubble was already up. I took a second to save his name into my phone.

Noah: Sleep okay?

Was this real life?

Me: I did, how about you?

Noah must’ve had the chat open, because my message was read instantly and he started texting back quick.

Noah: Eh, yeah. Hotel beds aren’t my favorite.

Me: Me either. I was so tired, though.

I stood off the bed, stretching my arms over my head. Nicole had disappeared into the bathroom. I pulled my hoodie over my head, and looked at my messages again.

Noah: I’ll bet. You had a busy weekend. Excited to go home?

I thought about my response carefully.

Me: I am. I’m sure my kids are missing me almost as much as I miss them.

It shouldn’t be any big deal to admit that I’ve got kids casually, right? We’re just friends…

The thread indicated he read the messages, but it took him a full five minutes to start typing. My breath held what felt like the entire time, waiting for his text to come through.

Noah: How many kids?

My pulse raced, and I sat down on the edge of the bed.

Me: Two.

Noah: How old?

I raised an eyebrow.

Me: Why do you ask?

He responded slowly.

Noah: Just curious. Making conversation.

I sighed, now slightly concerned.

Me: 9 and 5.

Noah: Boys?

Me: Boy and a girl. My son is older.

Noah: Big brother, huh? Very cool. What’re their names?

I bit my lip, and Nicole was now stood next to the bed staring at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I told him about my kids.”

She eyed me, confused. “And?”

“He’s asking about them.”

Quirking an eyebrow, she sat down next to me. “Are you not comfortable telling him? That’s a valid feeling, babe.” She put a hand on my knee. “You just met him.”

I nodded. “It’s just kind of…I don’t know, strange? Why would he care what my kid’s names are?”

She pursed her lips, staring down at my phone. “Maybe he’s trying to get to know you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I should just tell him?”

“It’s up to you, babe.”

I sent back a quick response.

Me: Michael and Willow

Noah: Nice.

I was brushing my teeth, so I didn’t immediately respond before his next text came in.

Noah: So, if you’ve got kids, does that mean you have a husband?

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

Me: Don’t have to be married to have kids, Noah.

His text that came through almost made me spit my toothpaste all over the mirror.

Noah: Children out of wedlock?! Unacceptable!!

I cackled, and I knew Nicole was wondering, but she didn’t ask.

Me: What can I say? I’m a heathen.

I followed it up quickly.

Me: But, no. Not married. Their Dad is around, but we’re not together.

Noah: I see.

I sighed, not really sure where to go from here. Resolving to changing the subject, I was also packing up my things into my duffel to prepare for our journey to the airport.

Me: Anyway, enough about me. What’re you up to?

Noah: On the bus headed to Mansfield. We should be there in about an hour.

Me: Oh, that’s right. You play Inkcarceration tonight, right?

Noah: Yup. Surprised you won’t be there. 😜

I laughed out loud.

Me: Well, I can only stalk you so much. I have work tomorrow.

Noah: What do you do?

Me: I work for a law firm as a paralegal. It’s a mostly remote gig, so I work from home most days.

Nicole and I loaded our bags into the car, dropping our key cards off at the desk.

Noah: Oh that sounds fun.

Me: It’s not, but it pays the bills.

We made it to the rental car return, and I waited outside while Nicole dropped the keys in the box. We made our way into the airport, now having to pay full attention to the tasks at hand.

Check in, move through TSA, head to Starbucks, find gate.

Nicole had stopped at a gift shop that had an impressive bookstore inside, where I opted to go find seats at the gate. It wasn’t until I was settled in that I was able to check my phone again.

Noah: Well, what would you rather do for a living?

I chewed my bottom lip thinking about this.

Me: I don’t really know, honestly. Thats a tough question.

Me: I’d have to think on that.

Noah: Great, I expect a report back in 3-5 business days. 👍🏻

I cackled at the message, and Nicole sat next to me right as I did.

“Still texting the love of your life?”

I scoffed, locking my phone and looking at her. “Oh, stop. He’s just a guy.”

“Yeah, mhm, sure.” She opened her crispy new novel and began reading the first few pages, successfully ending the short conversation.

Noah: What time’s your flight?

Me: We board in about ten minutes.

Noah: Sweet. You’ll be home soon, you must be relieved.

Me: I am, but I hate flying…

Noah: Really? I’m the same way. It’s the worst.

Me: Any tips for me?

Noah: Depends. Is it the small spaces, or the fear of crashing?

Me: Crashing.

Noah: Oh, yeah…no. Can’t help you there. I have an insane irrational fear of being in a plane crash.

I audibly groaned, sinking into my seat.

Me: Awesome, thanks.

Noah: LOL you’ll be fine. It’ll be a smooth flight and you’ll be home to your kids in no time.

Noah: I usually blast music through the whole flight and just tune everything out.

Me: I’ll try that.

The call for our boarding came, so Nicole and I stood, headed for the line.

Me: We’re about to board. Talk later?

Noah: Yup. Fly safe. Text when you land.

Noah: If you want.

Smiling at my phone, I typed back swiftly.

Me: Will do.

Falling into my bed, I took a moment to stare up at the ceiling.

It was over. I was home. All that was left to do was gather myself, pick up my kids from their Dad, and return back to my regular life.

The thought consumed me. I only had an hour until I was due to pick them up, and as excited as I was to see my babies, I was absolutely floundering at the idea of seeing their Dad…

Things had not ended well between Sean and I. Earlier in the year, we had finally called it quits after nearly a decade. Although we tried hard to amicably end things, it just wasn’t in the cards for us. There was too much history and hurt to let it die peacefully.

I gave myself a few minutes to gather myself before I took my phone out, shooting him a quick text to let him know I’d be there at 5PM, as agreed.

Sean: K.

Sounds about right.

I then realized I had forgotten to text Noah, so I opened our thread.

Me: I got home okay. Did you make it to Ohio safely?

Heading for the backyard to let my dog, Steve, out to use the bathroom, I sat at the table, staring out at the grass.

My phone chimed.

Noah: Nope. Bus crashed. Fiery mess. Blood everywhere.

I smirked.

Me: Damn. RIP.

Noah: We’re at the festival, just hanging for now. We’ve got about an hour before they set up the stage.

Me: Same setlist from last night?

Noah: Probably. We haven’t taken the time to make a new one.

I sighed, making my way back into the house and moving around the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Me: You should.

Noah: Yeah, how so?

Thinking for a moment, I leaned against the counter, and typed on the screen.

Me: Maybe add in something different? Something you haven’t played in a long time?

Noah: Such as…?

I snorted.

Me: Isn’t that your job to decide?

Noah: You can tell me, as a listener, what you’d want to hear.

Noah: What’s your favorite song off the first album?

Me: The Fountain, but that’s too slow.

Noah: I doubt I even know the words to that anymore, dude.

Me: Exit Wounds?

Noah: Meh.

Me: OMG…

Noah: What else?

Me: Worst In Me?

Noah: Hate that song.

Me: Jesus actual Christ.

Noah: Second album? Other than Limits?

Me: Burning Out?

Noah: …

Noah: That might not be a bad one…

Me: Oop?

Noah: I’ve got to talk to Nick. I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll text you later?

Me: Yup. Have a great show!

Noah: That you should be at…

I ignored his last message, sipping my coffee, and steadying myself. He was a little flirty, sure. It didn’t mean my heart didn’t jump each time he did it.

My knuckles tapped the door, and I was greeted by my son Michael, his smile huge.

“Mom!” He rushed me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Hey baby!” I knelt down, pulling him into a tight squeeze.

Behind him, inside the house, my daughter came running as well. “Mama!”

I pulled an arm open for her, encapsulating them both. “Ugh, I missed you guys so hard.”

Letting them loose, I noticed they already had their backpacks on.

“Where’s your Dad?” I looked around inside the apartment, but Michael just waved a hand.

“In his room. He told me to tell you he’ll see you next week.” He was so nonchalant, and although I knew it was forced, I was thoroughly impressed at how strong my young man had been throughout this difficult process.

Silently, I thanked the universe that Sean and I didn’t have to come face to face, and we made our way out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“How was Mushygen?” Willow asked, and I laughed at her pronunciation.

“Michigan was good. Auntie and I had fun, but I’m so glad to be home with you both.” I buckled her in the back of my minivan while Michael climbed in his seat next to hers.

“Did you get to meet any cool bands?” He asked me.

This made me smile as I slid into my seat, starting the vehicle.

“I did. I actually got to meet my favorite band.”

“Bad Omens?!” His voice cracked, and I smiled bigger.

“Yes! We ran into them at a restaurant last night!”

“What were they like?” He was curious, being a bit of a fan himself.

“Super nice, really cool guys.” I skipped over mine and Noah’s introductory debacle.

“That’s so cool, Mom!” Willow chirped from her seat.

“How was your weekend at Dad’s?” I asked them.

They proceeded to give me the full rundown of their three days with their father. They went to the park, out to dinner, but mostly stayed in at the apartment, given how hot it was. They couldn’t wait to go back next weekend.

Sean was a lot of things, but I’d never lie and say he wasn’t a good father to his kids.

Once back at home, I began working on dinner. Spaghetti, per the children’s request. After dinner were baths/showers, two hours of hangout time, before they had to go to bed. It was summer, so bedtime was midnight.

About 8:30PM, while I was sat on my Chaise lounger curled up with Willow watching Inside Out, my phone buzzed next to me.

Noah: That was a good choice. Turns out, a lot of people know that song.

Me: I’m glad it went well! Did the rest of the set go smoothly?

Noah: Sure did. It was tiring, and I’m ready to go home. But festivals are fun.

Me: When do you head back home?

Noah: Tonight. We’ve got stuff coming up on Thursday, so we’ve got to get going ASAP. Takes three days to make it back to LA.

I felt Willow shift next to me, and I noticed she was snoozing comfortably. It was already after 9PM, so I decided it was time to carry her into her room.

Laying her small body in bed and tucking her pale pink blanket over her, I left her with a kiss on the forehead and turned on her nightlight.

When I made it back to my spot, I flipped to SVU, and responded to his text.

Me: That’s a long drive. I don’t envy you.

Noah: You’ve got work tomorrow, I don’t envy you.

Smiling, I leaned back in my seat and covered up with my throw blanket.

Me: Fair enough.

The days passed tediously. Two weeks had gone by since I came home from Michigan. Every day, like clockwork, Noah texted me. Not the entire day, but most of it. We talked about a lot. My job. His music. Our favorite movies. Favorite places. Our hobbies. Our tattoos.

I was working in-office today, smiling at my phone because of the messages we were exchanging.

Noah: How big is it?

Me: Hip to knee.

Noah: WOAH.

I smirked. I was referring to a tattoo of an octopus I have on my left thigh.

Noah: Pic?

Me: I don’t have any off hand.

The flirting had been mild at best, but once in a while, he would say something suggestive, and it made me smile. Still, I would typically change the subject.

Noah: Damn. I’ll just have to see it in person.

This made my stomach twirl. In person? Throughout these last couple weeks, at no point had we discussed meeting in person again. I mean, it was possible, I’m sure. But it hadn’t really registered as a possibility.

While talking to Noah over text only, it almost made the entire experience feel unreal.

Me: I don’t remember seeing any Vegas tour dates on your website, sir.

His text took a few to come through.

Noah: Sir…?

Whoops. Maybe that was a bad move.

Noah: Vegas isn’t far. And didn’t you say you’re going to be in LA in September?

Chewing the skin off of my lip, I clutched my phone.

Me: To see Falling in Reverse and Black Veil Brides.

Noah: Maybe I could go.

Me: I didn’t think you listened to them?

Noah: Not so much, but if you’re going to be there, I think it could be fun.

That made my insides twist. He wanted to see me?

Me: Well, guess I’ll see you there, then?

After work, I dropped the kids at Sean’s. He had requested we do contactless drop off now, to try and avoid any arguments…like my children were a fucking Uber delivery.

He would stand outside, I’d let them out of the car, and they’d walk up to the apartment. It was fucking childish, but I didn’t argue. I had no energy left for Sean anymore. He had taken it all.

At home, I began the process of decompressing for the week, still fuming over my ex’s immaturity. First order of business was to uncork my Rosé, and fill my tallest glass.

I stood at the counter, heels kicked off to the floor of the kitchen, and chugged a few gulps of the drink.

My phone began chiming in my bag, and I fished it out. Someone was FaceTiming me?

Noah…

Noah was FaceTiming me?

I swiped the call open, not bothering to check my appearance first, and his face looked back at me. He was sitting at a desk, bed behind him, wearing a t-shirt and his hair was messy.

“Hey.” I said, apprehensive.

“Hey, sorry, is this a bad time?”

I shook my head, taking another long pull from my glass. “Not at all. Just got home from dropping the kids off.” My tone contradicted my words, my agitation still leaking in.

“You sure? Lookin’ a little stressed there, October.”

I snorted, propping my phone against the stove, and refilling my glass.

“Long day. What’s up?”

He sat back in his chair, hands folded over his chest. “Just wanted to see you.”

My fingers gripped the counter. “You did?”

“Yeah, texting gets old.”

I nodded. “It does.”

“Want to talk about your day?”

I groaned, the alcohol already softening the edges of my brain slightly. “You don’t even want to know.”

He pursed his lips. “Try me?”

Waving a hand in front of me, I swallowed the last of my second glass. “It’s just my children’s father being a dick. Nothing new.”

Lifting a brow, he cocked his head to the side. “What’d he do?”

As messy as ever, I poured a third and final glass, emptying the bottle, and dropping it in the trash can. Lifting my hand to my hair, I pulled the clip loose, shaking my hair out.

“He asked for contactless delivery with the kids.” I said as I lifted the glass to my lips.

He looked taken back. “Like…a pizza?”

“That’s what I said!” I shook my head. “He’s a fucking coward. He can’t even fucking face me without being an asshole.”

“Then maybe it’s better you don’t see each other?”

Shrugging, I ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck, probably.”

Looking at him, I noticed he was walking now, phone in hand.

“Anyway, fuck that guy. How was your day?”

He set the phone back down, and he was clearly in his kitchen. “Uneventful. Played with some beats. Caught up on some of the shows I’d been missing.”

I walked to my room, pulling a t-shirt from the hanger. “I’m going to set you down a sec so I can change.”

He just nodded. “Should I make pasta or tacos for dinner?”

I shouted at the phone as I pulled my shirt over my head and slipped my pants off. “Pasta, always pasta.”

Satisfied, he began pulling items from the cabinet.

“Oh, Noah!” I stood, only in my shirt covering my underwear. He turned to look at me as I lifted the phone. “Did you want to see the tattoo now?”

He padded back to where his phone was at, and leaned down close to the screen. I set my phone on my dresser and stepped backward to get myself in the frame. Feeling sheepish, I carefully worked to only show my ink, and not my crotch.

“Hmm,” He mused. “Cant see it. Better take the shirt off too.”

My eyes rolled, and I grabbed the phone. “Perv.”

He snickered, smiling at me. “What? Beautiful tattoo on a beautiful woman? Can you blame me?”

My cheeks reddened, and I quickly slipped my sweats on. “Guess not.”

He placed a pot of water on the stove to boil, and stepped back, twirling a wooden spoon in his hand. His eyes considered me as I moved back into the kitchen to start working on my own meal.

“Can I ask you something, October?”

Distractedly, melting some butter, scallions, and garlic in a pan, I responded. “Sure.”

“When I asked you for your number, back in Michigan, you acted like you weren’t looking to date anyone.”

My eyes shot over to the phone, my hand stopping its stirring. “Mhm…”

“That’s true? You’re not looking to date?”

Trying to concentrate on my task, I added the cream to the roux I had made. “Not right now, why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his pasta in the boiling pot. “Curious.”

“Yeah? Cause that’s a super pointed question for just curiosity.”

He smiled to himself, not looking at the camera. “Alright, maybe I’m a little more than curious.”

I turned my full attention to him, adding Parmesan to my Alfredo base. “What’s ’a little more than curious’?”

He looked at me then, eyes piercing me. “Interested?”

Death. That’s what I felt right then. Heart rate explosive, mind racing, eye twitching. No words can describe the feeling when someone as unbelievable as Noah Sebastian tells you they’re interested…

“Y-You’re…interested?”

He nodded slowly, stirring his pot. “I am.”

Stuttering like a cat, I nearly dropped my spoon. “Why?” I managed to choke out.

His face was bewildered. “Why not?”

Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I nearly let my sauce boil over.

“Uh,” I moved the pan from the burner and poured my pasta in the water. “I mean, it’s a valid question.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Noah…” I sighed hard, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Have you seen you?”

“A few times.” He laughed as he strained his noodles. “And?”

“I’m not,” I pointed toward him. “that.”

“A dude? Yeah, I didn’t think so but I didn’t exactly want to ask.”

I narrowed my eyes, smirking. “Smart ass.”

“I don’t see the confusion here.”

“You’re being willfully ignorant.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“How so?” He answered as he threw butter and seasonings into the pot.

Sucking my teeth, I rolled my eyes. “Noah, you’re an actual rockstar.”

“Kay, and?”

“And I’m a normal person.”

“I’m sorry,” He held up the spoon that was scooping noodles into a bowl. “Am I not?”

“I have kids. A job. Baggage. We live in different states. You’re,” I gestured to him again. “far out of my league.”

He shook his head. “I disagree.”

He moved to his table, propping me up on something I couldn’t see.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

He shoveled food into his mouth, taking a moment to chew. I strained my own pasta.

“How do you figure? You’re funny, interesting, fiery, beautiful…”

My throat went dry.

“What’s the issue?”

Putting my pasta together and getting it onto a plate, I walked over to my own table. “You’re forgetting the baggage part.”

He waved a hand. “You’ve got kids. So what?”

I dropped my fork. “So what?”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, what’s the big deal?”

“Uhh,” I drawled. “you don’t? And probably don’t need that in your life right now.” I sighed. “Or someone who has them. They’re always first priority.”

Nodding, he continued eating. “As they should be.”

Biting into my food, I stared at him, no words coming to mind.

“Look,” He set his fork down. “I’m not saying I want to marry you.” I choked at the word. “I just like you.”

My eyes widened, my jaw stopping mid-chew.

“I just want to take you on a date or something. See how it goes when I’m not super cranky.” He smirked.

Oh God. It was so enthralling, hearing the words come out of his mouth…

The temptation was strong.

But…

“I can’t, Noah.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “No?”

My head hung in frustration.

“I like you, too. A lot. But,” I pushed my plate away, suddenly losing all of my appetite. “I’m still dealing with a lot. I’m trying to get back to a sense of normalcy here. Sean just moved out three months ago. My kids are my entire life. I feel like I’m living in a storm at all times. I’ve got to get a handle on that for now.”

He was silent as I spoke, and I knew I had blown it.

“Are you mad?”

His tongue rolled around in his mouth before he spoke. “No. I won’t lie, I’m disappointed, but your reasoning is valid. I respect that.”

A man? Respecting me? Wild concept.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk anymore.”

He looked perplexed, taking a drink from his water bottle. “Why would I want that?”

I didn’t verbally respond, I just stared at him.

“I like you for more than a date, October. I like talking to you. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to keep doing that.”

My face warmed, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading. “I’d like that, too.”

“Alright.” He slapped a hand on the table. “That settles that. We’ll stay friends.” He picked his fork back up and kept eating.

I almost didn’t catch the last words come out of his mouth.

“For now.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

Here’s a little idea! Any version of showtime you’d like, they try to keep their relationship more of a secret at first (maybe because pomni doesn’t want to be in the spotlight or they don’t want there to be suspected favoritism, etc) and think they’re doing a good job at it, but they’re so obvious about how lovey they are to each other that everyone else caught on a long time ago haha

A/N: ANY version, you say? MANGO, GET IN HERE!!

WORST KEPT SECRET

A TIME CAPSULE AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

AU credit: @mangotangerinepastry @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule

WARNING: making out, mild angst

~~~

Caine held Pomni close in the dark confines of a janitorial closet. The guests were away for the day and they simply needed a moment to themselves from the prying eyes of the overlording AI and the other cast members. Feeling her heartbeat with his, her lips against his teeth, her hair between his fingers was what was needed, but he also felt the tug of the invisible red strings on his fingers, warning him to keep this quiet.

Pomni wrapped her arms tight around Caine, holding him to her as she kissed his teeth fervently. The world beyond the closet door vanished from her mind. She could just be here in this moment with him. A brief moment of bliss within the eternal servitude to the capsule.

They broke the kiss and embraced in silence, breathing each other in...and the closet of cleaning supplies. Pomni took a deep breath against Caine's neck and sighed. "I wish we could stay here..."

"Me too." Caine rubbed Pomni's back soothingly. "But you know what will happen if we do." His fingers twitched against the tug of the strings.

"I'm grateful for the moments we do get to have, no matter how brief." Pomni gazed into Caine's eyes and caressed the side of his lower jaw. "You're worth suffering this place for."

Caine leaned into her touch and held her hand on his jaw. "I'm really not-"

"Shush. We're not having that conversation again. Not here. You're worth my time. Accept that."

Caine closed his eyes and resigned to Pomni's stubborn insistence. "I don't deserve you."

"I decide who deserves me." Pomni retorted and gave him one more kiss. "I'll give you a minute to get down the hall before I leave."

Caine reluctantly let go of Pomni and peaked out the closet door. Seeing no one, he gave Pomni one last longing look before backing out of the closet.

"Caine? What are you doing here?"

Caine about jumped out of his skin. He spun around and stood as innocently as he could in front of the door. "Oh! Hello, Zooble. Sorry, I didn't see you there. What- uh, brings you here at this time of evening?"

"uh....cleaning? Like every night?" Zooble drolled.

Caine started to sweat. Time must've gotten away from him, because he and Pomni are normally gone long before anyone comes by. "Right! Cleaning. Of course." The door started to crack open behind him and he leaned against it, slamming it shut.

Pomni was knocked back and grabbed a shelf, making a few cans and bottles rattle loudly.

Caine coughed. "Door's a bit loose. Anyway, sorry to be in your way. I was just looking for something I misplaced. But it's HIDE-ing rather well from me."

Pomni heard Caine's enunciation and spun in place, looking for a corner to hide in. She dove into a bin and closed the lid.

Zooble arched a mechanical brow. "O...kay...so, you gonna get out of my way or..?"

Caine swallowed and stepped aside. "Yes, I have business elsewhere. Have a good evening." He put his hands behind his back and walked away as casually as he could, but there was a definite urgency in his pace to get away.

Zooble went into the janitorial closet without another word. They collected cleaning supplies and a mop. One of the cans of cleaning solution was empty and they lifted the corner of the bin lid just enough to toss the can in.

The can bonked Pomni in the head and she let out an involuntary "ow".

Zooble froze, knowing damn well what they just heard. They quietly check the radar in their abdomen. There was a blip next to theirs on screen. Pomni's blip. Zooble finished what they were doing and left the closet.

Pomni waited for several minutes before finally peeking out from the bin. She slowly and carefully made her way out the door and down the hall, covered in drips of cleaning solution.

Zooble chuckled to themselves as they watched Pomni's blip scurry away.

~different day~

Kinger poured a drink for himself and Caine. They occasionally got together for a chat, being close friends as they were in the Capsule's longest running cast members. For now.

Kinger stood behind his bar and leaned on it casually. Caine sat on a bar stool, nursing the old fashioned poured for him. "Thank you, Kinger. I've needed this."

Kinger shrugged, sipping his own drink. "The ringmaster's drinks are on the house. Enjoy." As he put his drink back down, something caught his eye. An out of place spot on Caine's collar. The ringmaster was typically immaculate with his appearance, as expected of him. It was a faded blotch of pink.

Kinger pointed to the spot. "Hey, uh, you got something on your shirt there."

"Hm?" Caine struggled to see something right under his jaw. "What is it?"

"Makeup."

Caine's blood went cold. "Oh, that...I must've gotten some on my hands and rubbed it off by mistake. Stage makeup gets everywhere during prep."

"You don't wear makeup." Kinger gave Caine a look. "Whose is it?" He'd smirk if he had a mouth.

"No one's." Caine said curtly. "For your information, I do handle makeup. It's an art form." While he personally agreed that makeup is an art, he was bluffing about doing it for the performers.

"So Pomni or Gangle." Kinger deduced. "Gangle prefers to do her own."

Caine gripped his glass a little tighter. "How are you so sure?"

"You'd be surprised what people tell the bartender." Kinger stood upright and downed his drink so he could continue cleaning and prepping for the next day. "I'm good with secrets, Caine."

Caine didn't respond. He only eyed a panel behind the bar that hid a stash of strong liquor reserved for him.

~different day~

Gangle and Pomni were getting ready for bed in their shared dressing room. Before putting her day's performance clothes in the laundry, Pomni took a long sniff of her coat. Sometimes, after her rendezvous with Caine, she could still smell his cologne.

Gangle saw Pomni so that while she was washing her face at her vanity. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Pomni quickly dropped the jester into the laundry and started anxiously brushing out her hair. "No real reason. Just uh, checking for any bad smells. Don't want to stink up the room." She forces a laugh.

Gangle narrowed her eyes in the mirror. "You must really enjoy bad smells. You had such an... interesting look on your face."

"It's nothing, really!" Pomni brushed faster. "Sorry, for being weird. It's just something I do." She really thought she was being subtle about it.

Gangle dropped it for now. She waited until after lights out and she heard Pomni breathing low and deep to get back up and sneak to the laundry basket. She lifted out Pomni's coat and sniffed the collar. She almost gasped out loud.

She dropped the coat and went back to bed with a mischievous smile on her face.

~different day~

Jax groaned as the joystick control over him released for the day. "Ugh, my aching back." He stretched. "Stupid kids and their stupid motor skills. They jerked me around like a ragdoll." He spotted Ragatha locking up the day care center for the night. He grinned. "Speaking of..."

Ragatha turned and bumped right into Jax. "Pardon- oh, hello Jax." She gave him a polite smile.

Jax wrapped an arm over Ragatha's shoulders and walked with her. "What's up, dollface. You throw any nasty kids out the window today?"

Ragatha gasped. "Absolutely not! I would never!" She looked around, hoping no guests were still around the circus to overhear.

Jax chuckled, speaking louder. "Of course you would! Anyone dealing with those snot-nosed brats would in a heartbeat!"

"Jax!" Ragatha stopped and was about to start lecturing him when a door opening at the end of the hallway got her attention. It was Pomni, straightening her jester coat and then walking away down another hallway that T-ed at the far end.

Once alone again to start her rant, Ragatha took a breath only to be interrupted again by the same door opening. Caine came out with an unusually bright smile on his face, and he went the other way at the T junction.

Jax smiled broader than he had in ages. "Holy [%$!$]." He didn't care if BUBLE got on to him about it later. This was a moment worth swearing for.

"Now, Jax, don't. We don't know what's in that room."

"Pretty sure that's an empty party room." Jax's smile was as strong as ever. "I gotta hand it to the old timer, scoring Pomni couldn't have been easy."

"Old- WE DON'T AGE!" Ragatha blustered. "And we don't know what we just saw. It doesn't mean anything."

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, dollface. This is too good." Jax rubbed his hands together.

Ragatha frowned. "Don't be mean. We're all just looking for a bit of happiness. Let them have theirs."

~different day~

Gangle and Ragatha met up after work. "I know something!" They said at the same time.

"You do? What do you know?" Ragatha asked.

"Wait, you know something?" Gangle asked back.

"Yeah, but is it the thing that you know?"

"I don't know? It might be."

"Jester Dentures?"

"Jeater Dentures!!" The girls squealed and giggled with each other.

Pomni started to notice the others looking at her differently, like they wanted to say something but would turn away or have something sudden to do if she even looked at them.

Anytime Pomni spoke to Caine in front of the others, they got weird. The stares got more intense, yet they backed off like she needed space to give her performance report to the ringmaster.

Caine noticed too. Not just from the odd behavior but Kinger and Jax both getting on his case about Pomni and how he wasn't being as subtle as he thought. It made cast meetings awkward. He could actually feel his face heat up if the others watched Pomni smile at him in meetings.

~different day~

Caine FINALLY got Pomni truly alone again after asking her to meet him in the piano room backstage in the middle of the night. He could play one key at a time without the strings trying to break his fingers, so that's what he did as he waited.

Pomni sat next to Caine on the bench seat and touched her shoulder to his. "Everyone knows."

"Yep." Caine dinged a C note.

"I thought we were careful."

"Apparently not careful enough."

Pomni watched him slowly play moonlight sonata one note at a time. "Does this mean you don't want to see me anymore?"

Caine stopped. "No. It means we need to be even more careful. Our behavior has disrupted the cast. Not so much as to affect their jobs, but BUBLE has taken notice and...given me a warning." He flexed his sore hand.

Pomni put her hand over his on the piano keys. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're worth whatever that thing puts me through."

"Now it's my turn to say I'm not worth that." Pomni cringed thinking of what BUBLE would do if things escalated.

"I've done a lot of stupid things in my time, Pomni. Seen a lot of places. Met a lot of people. I think I have a pretty good grasp on what holds value in this world." Caine turned his head to look at her.

Pomni met his gaze expectantly.

Caine continued. "To exist is to suffer. To find meaning in the suffering is to live. You are a part of that meaning to me. I've found so much more than camaraderie or friendship in you. I found..." The word caught in his throat. The red string around his neck tightening.

"You don't have to say it." Pomni leaned in. "I found it too. In you."

Caine leaned his top jaw to her forehead and closed his eyes. Pomni interlaced her fingers with his on the piano and closed her eyes too.

[ryuichirou]

You get asked a lot of dark stuff, and we're all here for it, but what's your favourite wholesome ship/headcanon? Just a change of pace!

Funny enough, Anon, we do have one wholesome hc post! But it’s been a while since I wrote it, and there isn’t much there, so I’ll give one more for some of the ships. Not every single one though, so if you wanted something specific, please let me know.

It’s surprisingly difficult for me to come up with something purely wholesome without any kind of cursed undertone, but I’ll do my best...

1. Out of every possible ship option for Azul (well, there isn’t much for him but), I think Idia is the best for him in terms of potential personal growth. It wouldn’t be easy, but Idia is surprisingly emotionally mature, and I genuinely think he could handle Azul’s issues. Even though both of them are very defensive and tend to see the worst in people and argue with them, they are weirdly comfortable around each other, and it seems like Azul trusts Idia enough not to expect any backstabbing from him. I think they could make each other feel genuinely loved.

2. Lilia and Idia sometimes talk through the night. Of course, they love playing together, but sometimes they just start chatting, and then chat away until it’s 6 AM. Both of them try to keep their distance on the internet, but whenever Idia’s cool internet friend complains about his irl stuff (without details, of course) to him, he feels very happy. Like Muscle Crimson could rely on him, and he could rely on him too. It’s very weird and unusual for Idia to have this kind of connection with anyone who isn’t Ortho.

3. Kalim tried to make breakfast for Jamil one time. It didn’t turn out super well, and Jamil complained that all Kalim did was adding more work for him (even though he’s already overslept – how did that even happen?!), but... it wasn’t absolutely horrible either. For a second Jamil even thought that he could taste just how much Kalim did his best to make something good enough for him to eat. But he shooed that thought away immediately.

4. When Silver and Sebek were younger, there was a period of time during which Silver’s hair got too long. Lilia was away for a while, and Silver couldn’t cut it himself, he didn’t have anything to tie them up with either. After a short while it became obvious that Silver’s hair made it difficult for him to have a proper sparring with Sebek, so Sebek yelled at him, sat him down, and braided his hair for him – he saw his sister and his mother do it, and it wasn’t difficult to remember how it works. Sebek got mad at Silver because Silver thanked him and sounded so earnest and nice, he even said that now that he has Sebek to braid his hair, it shouldn’t be an issue. Lilia came back the next day and cut Silver’s hair short again though...

5. In a very weird way Vil is anxious about meeting Rook’s family. He doesn’t worry about Rook meeting his dad – Rook already knows anything there is to know about Eric Venue, and Vil knows that his dad will at least find Rook amusing. Plus, he talks to him about Rook a lot. But Rook’s family? Vil still doesn’t know a lot about them, and Rook is always super secretive: he just laughs and say that they’ll love Vil when they meet one day, which doesn’t sound reassuring, if anything, it sounds ominous. This man drives Vil nuts sometimes.

6. Ortho loves giving Vil flowers. Even if it’s just one flower, or even if it’s not even flowers but just some weed or berries that are useful for potionology, he’ll present it in a way as if he’s giving Vil flowers. It’s honestly Vil’s fault because he always acts charmed by this, but can you blame him? Ortho is such a little gentleman.

7. This is going to sound weird, but Ortho loves apologising to Idia. They don’t really fight that much, but they do get stubborn sometimes, and sometimes start arguing. Since Ortho is the younger brother and a cutie, he is used to Idia kind of giving up and allowing him to do things his way. But every now and then, when Ortho feels like he overdid it, he hugs Idia and says that he is sorry. And Idia is usually so quick to drown in guilt for making Ortho upset or disappointed that hearing “sorry” from him and getting a hug gets him very emotional.

8. Ace does nice things to Deuce sometimes, but he doesn’t want Deuce to see it. He doesn’t let their roommates enter their room when he knows Deuce is about to call his mom, he always runs first to the cafeteria to take a seat at one table that Deuce once said was the best one in there. He tries to make it look like he is just messing with others, or doing it for himself, but he... doesn’t really know why he does that, honestly. Maybe not to feel bad when he teases Deuce for getting another F.

9. One time Lilia got sick, and Malleus was very surprised to see him in his bed suffering from a fever. He teased him at first, saying that he must be getting old if a little cold got him this weak, but then ended up sitting by his side for two days. Lilia kept grumbling something about Malleus not having anything better to do, but having his company actually made him feel much better.

10. Fellow and Gidel always get each other birthday presents, even if they don’t have any money at the moment. Fellow just thinks that Gidel deserves to feel like he’s the king of the world every now and then, and he would love to treat him at least once a year, but unfortunately this isn’t always possible; a stolen dirty magazine would make Gidel just as happy though. Ironically, Fellow is always surprised when Gidel remembers about his birthday: Fellow himself forgets about it, or rather it makes him kind of depressed. But one time Gidel got (stole) a fat wallet filled with money and kept it hidden for weeks before gifting it to Fellow and having a little feast with him on Fellow’s birthday. What a nice day that was~