#the batch has arrived yes

[timethehobo]

Some extra goodies for the folks who preordered my BG3 charms. The card is a bonus for folks for bought Zevlors hehe.

We couldn’t have him in-game as a companion, so we’ll have him on-hand.

[magicandmundane]

Something something pouring rain and thunderstorm during that first standoff with Crosshair on Kamino in “Aftermath” and during that final standoff with Hemlock on Tantiss in “The Cavalry Has Arrived.”

Echoes of the past, of who we once were, but we can’t go back to the beginning, to the way things used to be.

[heyclickadee]

The more I think about The Bad Batch as a complete show but incomplete story, the more I think that if they’re doing what I think they could be doing, the more I think it could work really well from a storytelling perspective. So well that I’m actually annoyed about it.

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 when a younger recruit has a very obvious crush on you (not dating yet)

Oh, anon. I had fun with this one. Simply because it's a "we aren't dating yet so why are you jealous" scenario just waiting to happen. That's where my mind went with this. The boys have zero claim on you but they are possessive and territorial as fuck. omg. Do you hear that? It's me standing outside screaming because I need to get a fucking grip. Anyway! Enjoy!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (gn!reader except on Simon's)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): hidden feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, intimidation, crushes, suggestive themes, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is the superior here. He's the one in charge.

Yet he feels completely out of control.

This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening. He has spent months—months gently putting himself before you. Jealousy and possession are strange to him. They don’t come easy. And yet here they are, eating him from the inside out, chewing away at his resolve.

Anger and irritation are starting to seep in.

A new recruit with an obvious crush shouldn't make him this irate. There isn't any competition, but John can't help himself. All he sees is this wanker making eyes at you, speaking softly and with such tenderness that it's driving John up the fucking wall.

Which is insane. Stupid. You do not belong to him. The two of you are not dating—not anything—but somehow that doesn't matter.

His feet are moving before he even realizes it. The recruit turns in John's direction and instantly pales.

Good. Fucking good.

You turn too, brow furrowed.

"Captain?" asks the recruit, straightening his spine.

John shoves himself between, staring the recruit down, all venom. "You're wanted elsewhere."

"Y—yes. Sir."

The recruit salutes and takes off, the primal jealousy purring softly with contentment.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is going to grind his teeth into dust if he doesn’t unclench his jaw.

What the fuck is this bloke doing over on this side of the complex anyway? He’s a goddamn new recruit. Freshly arrived and still green.

Do you even realize he’s flirting? Kyle can tell just be the way he stands far too close, or the subtle way he touches your arm. His smile is stupidly large. The man is completely struck by you. You appear completely oblivious, having a conversation with him like there’s nothing amiss.

Nope. Kyle is pissed. Furious. Which is fucking ridiculous. The two of you are not a couple, even though Kyle wishes otherwise.

“You look right scunnered.” Soap appears at Kyle’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“That,” he growls.

Soap frowns, following Kyle’s line of sight. Soap’s frown turns to a knowing smirk. He turns it on Kyle with a mischievous glint. “Want Ghost to scare the shit out of him?”

The rest of the team knows how Kyle feels about you even if they don’t comment on it.

“That would be great,” says Kyle flatly.

Soap lightly pats Kyle’s shoulder. Turning around, he cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Lt!”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"I could rig an explosive. Put it under his bunk. That’d be fucking brilliant,” murmurs Johnny.

"We're looking to scare him. Not to maim everyone in his immediate radius,” replies Kyle.

"What about a firework? Poppers? Oh! A stink bomb?"

"That’s fucking childish, Johnny,” mutters Simon.

Johnny isn't jealous. Really, he's not.

He's just...protective. That's what he tells himself anyway.

Kyle, Johnny, and Simon observe you from across the communal gym. A new recruit from the latest batch is hanging on the ropes of the boxing ring. His stance is casual, skin glistening with sweat as he gives you his best smile while he chats you up.

The lad is putting it on thick, and Johnny is having none of it.

You are not Johnny’s spouse. You are not dating. You are not his…anything.

But that hardly matters.

Because Johnny has stolen plenty of kisses from you. He’s put his hands on your body. He’s been far too close for the comfort of a coworker or friend. In that, there is a claim. Johnny can draw the line somewhere.

He is so close to making you his.

No one is getting in his way. Not even a charming new recruit.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Female Reader)

"Don't do it, Simon. It's not worth it."

Johnny's words don't satiate the anger. Rage is boiling beneath Simon's skin. It is white hot—fierce. All of this emotion and yet Simon has no claim over you.

It still hurts. Still aches.

The two of you are not together—not dating. But it's Simon's name you scream with pleasure, and that counts for fucking something.

His fists clench, muscles coiled with wrought tension. Johnny places his hands on Simon's shoulders and shoves him back down in his seat. If Simon weren’t ready to flay his newest target alive, Johnny wouldn’t be so bold.

"Remove. Your. Hands," growls Simon, slowly.

Kyle grimaces, his gaze darting between Simon and Johnny. He looks ready to jump in if Johnny needs him.

"I'm doing this for you, Lt,” murmurs Johnny, even as his hands keep the pressure.

"She's mine."

"We know,” reply Johnny and Kyle in unison.

One of the new recruits is putting on his best performance, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Johnny is right. Simon can't go over there and knock the man to the ground, no matter how much he wants to.

"Take a deep breath, Lt."

"I'm trying."

taglist:

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[rooksunday]

thinking about fox getting his first poll card after the vode get citizenship. the guard scattered after sithsplosion day, but he and a score or so that were functionally useless without each other, like nervous space greyhounds with military training, all ended up bundled together on some planet in the mid rim.

he’s been working on a book about his years at the senate. no one knows about it aside from thorn, who has been checking his basic, and advising him where he needs to wind the reveals back a little because libel. the rest of the time he does payroll for a number of small businesses, picking and choosing his hours, and delighting in sending invoices for his business: the shiny security fund, he’s called it, to continue the tradition in a more official manner.

(when they’d been on triple zero, the fund had been for rations. blankets. bacta. they’d conned credits from tourists and stolen them from senators and turned those credits into hope for the poor bastards shipped to the city that ate shinies before they could ever earn paint. these days, the fund was for whatever his guard wanted. aside from a pony. fox couldn’t figure out where hound would keep the pony.)

the book had been born from two lists. one was the blackmail and gossip the guard had collected during their stint on coruscant; that was where thorn needed to check for dangers, but since most of those senators had died in sith-related incidents, or had been jailed when the media got hold of their dealings, all fox was doing was providing context.

the other part of the book was fox’s List. thire sometimes called it a manifesto, because he had been studying for his degree and liked to show off occasionally. the list was a suggestion of changes to the republic, some small, some large. it was a silly fancy of fox’s, as the whole book was, but if he couldn’t indulge himself in his own karkin’ book then they might as well have punted him off the high levels back on coruscant.

yet for all that he’d settled—and paid taxes, even—fox hadn’t felt part of the citizenship of the planet. then the poll card had arrived. and suddenly he mattered in a tangible way. just like the bothan baker next door did. just like the twi’lek downstairs, the one with the noisy kriffin’ speeder, did.

thorn found fox in the kitchen, still staring at the scrap of card. he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“you okay there, chief?” he asked. he’d been trying out alternatives to ‘sir’. “noise complaint again?”

fox shook his head. he didn’t look up. “voting thing. there’s an election.”

“oh! yeah, we got ours yesterday. are you— what’s that face you’re making. i don’t think i like it.”

fox raised his head and gleamed his smile at thorn, who backed away slightly, one hand drifting to where a blaster once hung. fox’s eyes felt very wide. he jabbed the poll card like a vibroknife.

“do you know what this means?”

“democracy comes in two postal batches?”

“no! well, yes, apparently, and that’s inefficient, but— no!” fox jabbed the card again. “this means i am a citizen and i am about to make that a senator’s problem. where’s my manifes— list, thorn? it’s time for an update.”

[keerysfreckles]

cookies — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x hephaestus fem!reader

summary: in which luke finds y/n, in order to tell her something he's been meaning to for the past two years

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, i think thats it ??? making out/kissing

a/n: I FINISHED TLT TODAY- idc if luke is evil (if evil why pookie)

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n l/n thought her life at camp half-blood would've felt like a fairy tale. two years later, she was deeply misguided.

the camp experience itself wasn't bad. she loved meeting the new campers, and bonding with her cabin mates, and seeing luke from time to time.

but even when she got claimed by her father, hephaestus, y/n still felt like a square trying to fit in a triangle hole. hephaestus was the god of forge. fire. craft. creation.

when y/n first arrived to camp, she met luke. he didn't know why, but out of all the campers in hermes cabin, he felt as though he needed to protect y/n the most.

two and a half weeks after meeting luke, y/n had been claimed by her father. the boy was sad to see her leave, but glad as well, due to her being claimed to a new cabin.

as soon as y/n and chiron entered the doors of hephaestus cabin, the duo was met with seven boys. five of them were around the same age as the girl, and the other two looked no older than ten.

this made y/n feel even more out of place. yes, they all made her feel at home, and they still do. y/n just can't help but feel isolated.

less than a week after y/n was claimed, she unfortunately found out forging wasn't the exact type of creation she was skilled at. she tried pottery, metalwork, jewelry making, and even knitting. the girl was crushed when none of the activies suited her.

until one afternoon, she was in the kitchen after helping bring in dirty dishes from lunch. a few ingredients caught her eye, and she instantly started bringing them together and made something delicious. chiron soon came inside, and was both surprised and pleased y/n had found her activity. cooking.

this leads y/n to where she is right now. the camp kitchen. ever since the fateful day she discovered her gift, she rarely ever left the kitchen. y/n was considered the new cook of camp, and she enjoyed everything about it.

recently, the girl has taken baking into her small circle of talents. which explains why all day y/n has been baking cookies for tomorrow. it was percy's birthday, and annabeth asked her to make blue chocolate chip cookies for him, one of percy's favorite foods. she had to make enough for the whole camp. almost one hundred cookies were already baked and cooled, and she had one hundred more to go.

annabeth kept checking on y/n every so often, to see her progress (and to make sure she took breaks and to not overwork herself). two times the younger girl came in the kitchen, her and y/n talked for a bit. y/n kept teasing annabeth at all the staring she'd been doing towards percy lately. to be fair, it was annabeth's idea to have the cookies for percy's birthday, so y/n knew something had to be going on between the two tweens.

y/n doesn't notice the person who had entered the kitchen. she heard footsteps, so she guessed it was annabeth.

luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen. he took a moment to admire the girl in front of him. y/n stood behind the kitchen island, with a metal bowl, a baking sheet, and other multiple baking utensils layed out over the countertop. luke could smell a batch of cookies in the oven at the right of the kitchen, along with the fresh ones all placed on the counters behind y/n.

luke finally knocks on the door, making y/n look up from rolling balls of cookie dough. a smile was quick to fill her features, "hi luke."

luke walked over towards her, leaning on the island, standing across from her.

"how are percy's birthday cookies coming along?" he asks, seeing the girl still at work.

y/n nods, "they're going," she laughs, "that's for sure."

"i was looking for you earlier," luke admits, as he continues to watch y/n at work.

looking up from her blue stained hands, y/n sees a small blush covering luke's cheeks. "oh yeah?"

it's luke's turn to nod, "yeah, but the hephaestus boys said you'd be in here."

y/n chuckles, before the two sit in a comfortable silence for no less than a minute.

"did you need me for something?" y/n asks, as she takes two baking sheets to the oven. luke only laughs while watching y/n open the oven with her foot, as her hands were full.

"i just wanted to come check on you," luke moves to side of the kitchen island y/n was previously on. "you have made quite the mess in here."

both luke and y/n look at the batches of cookies, the reminants of cookie dough on the counters, empty bowls in both of the sinks, and flour on the kitchen island and floor.

"what's the real reason you wanted to see me luke?" y/n asks the boy, knowing that he had a tell when he was nervous. he always licked his lips before speaking.

"what? i can't just want to see a dear friend of mine?" he jokes.

"oh you can," y/n responds, "except, whenever you visited me you always wanted seconds, or an extra dessert."

luke doesn't repsond right away, knowing y/n had a point.

the boy licks his lips, nervous from what he's about to tell y/n.

"do you ever wonder why i might've been more protective of you over the other campers? when you first joined hermes cabin?" luke asks, catching y/n off guard.

y/n shakes her head, "no, i never really thought about it before."

luke takes a deep breath, "you seemed more special to me."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, only making luke continue.

"you just seemed so different from the other campers i've met. special. i just had to protect you. i still feel like i have to."

"luke, i don't get what you're trying to say," y/n admits. luke's confession is only making her confused.

"then i don't have to say it," luke's voice is soft.

y/n's confusion returns, but only for mere seconds before she feels luke's lips on hers. she pulls away from the him, out of shock at what he had just done.

his eyes instantly met hers. his filled with worry as if he messed everything up the two had between them.

before luke could start to overthink everything, y/n leaned up to kiss him. his eyes closed, and his hand went to both sides of her face.

y/n's lips tasted like sugar, with a hint of salt. luke guessed it was from tasting her cookies to get them as perfect as she can for percy's birthday.

luke's lips tasted like a campfire. y/n could only assume it was from the smores hermes cabin had after winning capture the flag that day.

y/n's hands were still blue, and in order to not stain luke or his clothing, she opted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. she felt luke's hands on her waist, only pulling her closer to him.

soon enough luke's tongue pushed through y/n's lips, which caused her to giggle. luke loved her reaction.

before anything could get more heated, a timer goes off in the small kitchen. the loud shrill made luke and y/n stop their movements. y/n only looked at luke sheepishly. the girl leaned in once more and pecked the boy's lips, before retrieving the cookies out of the oven.

"do you want any help?" luke asks, watching y/n again as she started rolling out more balls of cookie dough.

she nods, "if you don't mind your hands getting blue."

luke laughs, "i'm willing to take that chance."

[sayruq]

Four things to note about this:

Israel is importing food

This is such an inefficient way to move things esp fresh food as it takes about 2-3 to go from Saudi to Israel

Israeli farmlands are largely unattended as Gazan workers were forced back into the Strip (after getting imprisoned and tortured) and immigrant workers have returned home. This is why Israel is importing food from Saudi and workers from Africa

Yes, this is a sign of support from Saudi and UAE. UAE has actually gone further than providing Israel with a route that bypasses the Red Sea. In Oct, Gazans reported seeing UAE planes dropping bombs on them. As for Saudi Arabia, the US and Israel seem to believe that the country is some sort of leader of the Muslim world so if they normalise relations with Israel, every other Muslim country except Iran will follow suit. It obviously won't happen. The war on Gaza has done too much damage to Israel-Arab relations.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[insomniumstella]

spice & honey

bucky x baker!reader

summary: cinnamon buns and wickedly strong coffee must be the only reasons James Buchanan Barnes visits your bakery daily, despite the inconvenience of driving to a small town on the outskirts of Upstate New York. right?

warnings: first dates and crushes (absolutely classified as warnings), mead consumption, a curse word or two, soft!bucky

word count: 4,565

author's note: i've been watching Gilmore Girls a little too much lately (hence the little easter egg). on another note, autumn is my favourite season, so prepared to be sick of James attending harvest festivals and drinking apple cider 🍂🥧🎃

all the stories i've written

September 21st marks the official arrival of Autumn. Though the weather has been rather cheerful lately, today’s air is much crisper and heavier with the promise of looming rain. The streets of Eldermont remain far too green to your dismay, but Spice & Honey—the bakery you’ve owned for the past five years—is rich in shades of marigold and copper. A wide assortment of mugs, mostly in various shapes of pumpkins, and spiced teas, line the shelves, while the fresh jars of apple butter are neatly stacked alongside the register. Besides the usual treats, the glass display teems with seasonal favourite pumpkin tarts and apple cider donuts. 

The everlasting chatter of customers and soft sounds of a vintage record you scored at a neighbour’s garage sale just last month saturate the space as you place the second batch of cinnamon rolls on the counter. The clock reads 10:57 AM, and though you’ve been attempting to conceal your excitement, Vivienne could sense it the second you stepped through the door, teasing you about the very special visitor who’s always in need of sugary buns and black coffee at exactly five past eleven. 

James Buchanan Barnes is a regular customer, you often argue. The nervous babble, flustered movements, and beaming smiles convey otherwise. And so yes, you might have a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on the freakishly tall, muscular brunette who brings in the latest editions of The Culinary Canvas magazine each Monday and notices the smallest of changes in your recipes. Just maybe, you reluctantly ponder when your thoughts inadvertently wander to that charming grin and baby blue eyes every time you knead the dough for his adored treat — a dessert once reserved for Autumn suddenly available year around. 

“Staring at the entrance won’t make time pass quicker,” Vivienne whispers, arranging butterscotch cupcakes by the pumpkin tarts. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper back, covering the pans with aluminum foil. 

Perhaps hiding the pastries, a favourite amongst Spice & Honey shoppers, is not the best business decision, but Eldermont is merely a small town in Upstate New York. If it wasn’t located a thirty minute drive south of the Avengers compound, most people wouldn’t be aware of its presence in the first place. And besides, everybody in Eldermont is connected to everybody — the town holds no secrets, including the pastries you keep warm and frost fresh. 

“The tall, dark, and handsome man,” she points out, “still has a few minutes. Perchance the preparations of Eldermont’s Annual Harvest Festival made it trickier to find parking.” Vivienne turns to you with a mirthful grin, the cupcakes resting perfectly positioned in the glass case. “You should invite him. Heard Brad brewed an incredible batch of apple cider mead this year.”

You sigh, snatching the golden tray out of her grasp. “I’m not asking Bucky out.” 

“Ah! Bucky!” The woman’s grin widens. “Forgot his name for a second.” Shades of mischief dance in her tone as she marks Elijah’s, the eccentric owner of Marigold Meadows flower shop across the street, special order of fifty maple bacon BLTs as completed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Only that you mention Bucky at least seven times a day.” 

“Seven’s oddly specific,” you note and swiftly, “also I do not,” disagree.

“Bucky smelled great today,” Vivienne mocks your voice, the grin you’ve come to love—and hate—remaining on her features. “Should I add apple to the cinnamon rolls? I wonder if Bucky would enjoy apple cinnamon rolls with brown butter and maple icing unless he’s a creature of habit. Maybe I should suggest a sprinkle of nutmeg in his coffee to test the waters first—“

“Vivienne,” you groan, yet she persists.

“What’s the worst that could happen? Bucky could say no. Bucky could also choose The Sugared Whisk. Bucky wouldn’t. I adore their croissants, but the coffee is terribly weak, and even their tea selection is mediocre. Indigo should include spiced teas. And sure, Luke's doesn't offer spiced teas, but Luke’s sells great coffee and danishes, except the danishes are only available on Wednesdays.” She recites a recent monologue of yours, and if you weren’t mortified, you’d actually be quite surprised at Vivienne’s ability to remember conversations as if they happened minutes ago. 

The doorbell chimes before she has the chance to finish, and you’re highly unsure of whether it’s a saved by the bell kind of situation or if you’d rather the floor magically swallow you whole. 

“Good morning.” James smiles, and it’s then that you decide you’d rather the floor split open because you’re awfully flustered by his entrance despite secretly anticipating the moment since the sun arose. 

“Hiya, Bucky,” she returns the favour, secretly nudging your side. “Have you ever been to the annual Eldermont’s Harvest Festival?” 

“Cannot say I have,” he chuckles, breaking eye contact between the two for just a second to glance at her. 

Though you’d never admit it aloud, those eyes, baby blue on sunny days and resembling the ocean on the ones of rain, cross your mind more than a pair of eyes should. This infatuation borders on obsessive, you often contemplate. James Buchanan Barnes is an Avenger for heaven’s sake, and you’re almost sure a man of his maturity and composure wouldn’t agree to a date with a baker, a clutz one at that. It’s not that you’d want to, nevertheless. The two of you have a great thing together — you serve coffee, he survives on coffee, and if time allows, the lighthearted conversations you have bring colours to otherwise monotone days. 

“The decorations, the food, the people are phenomenal.” You might have to assign the redhead to kneading duty if she’s heading to that territory. “This beauty right here could take you on a real good tour. Eldermont is gorgeous this time of year.” Enjoy kneading bread, Vivi. 

“Is it?” James grins, his stare flicking between you and Vivienne.

“Drop dead,” she reiterates, “much like the women.” 

“Vivienne,” you suddenly cut in, “the coffee station is out of paper cups. Could you bring some from the back?” 

She gives you another grin, less mischievous and more understanding, nodding at Bucky before she disappears into the kitchen. The heavy wooden doors create a boisterous sound once they close, and you couldn’t be happier for a distraction because you cannot look at the brunette just yet. The bakery is sweltering, and your hands are sweaty, and, if it wasn’t evident you’ve been nurturing a crush on James, Vivienne practically plastered a HEAD BAKER IN LOVE WITH SERGEANT BARNES sign out front. 

“The station’s out of cups?”

“Yes!” You glimpse behind the shoulder, deciding to keep the lie alive. “Spice & Honey gets busy during the afternoons, and we run out quickly.” The words leave your mouth rushed and a bit muttered, but the effort is there. “Black coffee and a cinnamon bun?”

“It’s a habit,” his smile is as charming as always. James hesitates for a beat, observing you locate the plastic to-go containers. “The festival Vivienne touched on, have you ever been?”

The atmosphere stills for an awkward second as you gawk at him. “Oh, sure,” you answer at last, praying her babbling wasn’t too obvious because you couldn’t fathom Bucky choosing The Sugared Whisk. “Every year since I was four. The festival’s great. Brad brews the best mead, and Johnny, the mayor, is comically strict about the decorations, so it’s all pumpkins, and string lights, and festive garlands,” you mumble, scrambling for the pan and cream cheese frosting. “I’ve even heard whispers of fireworks this year. It’s next Saturday if you want to drop by. Cassie bakes the best apple pies.” 

“Better than yours?”

“I don’t serve apple pies,” averting your eyes to study the grinder seems like the best decision to avoid his piercing gaze. 

“I’m sure they’d be the best if you did.” Bucky beams, leaning against the counter as he observes you make coffee. 

“Thank you,” the expression of gratitude melts into somewhat of a question despite your best attempts at keeping your voice level, “but the pies I bake often turn out horribly wrong. The apples were overcooked, and the dough raw last time I tried.” 

“How undercooked?” 

“The trash can enjoyed most of it.”

James laughs at that, the sound of it hearty and endearing. “I’m sure it found the pie delicious.” If he’s flirting with you, you can’t tell, and you don’t exactly want to, for expectations are the fool’s hope. “If you’re not terribly busy during the festival,” he speaks after a protracted moment of doubt, “I’d love to take you up on that tour Vivienne mentioned.”

“Tour?” The man in front of you must almost all but hear your heart pounding rapidly inside your chest.

“The tour of mead, pies, and decorations.” 

“Oh?” You tinker with a couple napkins, peering at him. “I’m not sure I could give you a real good tour, I’m barely a guide, believe me. I got lost in that new Target on Cedar Lane, and I cannot understand maps, and—“

“I’m asking you out on a date.” Bucky chuckles at your flustered visage, baby blues never once breaking the eye contact. 

“Shit,” the curse word leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you silently reprimand yourself for the rash impulse of colourful words. “Alright.” 

The sergeant titters at your sudden reaction, a shy smile dancing on his lips. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable. I just thought we might have something between us, chemistry of sorts, and that it might’ve been fun,” he briefly pauses, eyes wild and roaming around your face. “It’s just that Vivienne mentioned Eldermont being gorgeous in the fall, and it got me thinking that I’ve never truly experienced it, because the only thing I visit in this town is your bakery, not that it’s the only place worth visiting—“

“Bucky—“

“There are many stores I should probably check out, and Samuel’s birthday is in a couple of days, which is convenient. I wouldn’t describe Sam and I as the best of pals, but Steve likes him, so I should probably get him a gift.” 

“Who’s Samuel?” You ask puzzled, but the flustered soldier standing before you continues to ramble.

“Something small to indicate I remembered but not necessarily care. Something that screams I’m not a total jerk, but you are for reminding the whole compound that your birthday’s on the twenty third. A wooden statue of a bird. Sam likes birds, particularly Redwing, though Redwing’s not technically a bird. A wooden bird statue would certainly insult him, so it’s settled — the plan is to visit Artists & Wood on Land.” 

“The shop’s name is Woodland Artistry,” you correct with a gentle smile. 

“Right!” James clicks his tongue, studying your softly amused features. “We should probably forget this conversation happened. It was a stupid idea too—“

“Yes,” you interject. “I mean no.” Surely, this scenario is a strange dream that wicked mind of yours created to punish you for the sins you assumably committed in every single one of your previous lives. It’s the only possible explanation for the sergeant’s flustered behaviour. “I would absolutely love to go on a date,” you say and pinch the flesh of your thigh for reassurance, but the scene remains as it was, “with you.”

Gently placing a twenty on the counter, James gleams at you. “I’ve never actually given you my number, have I?” 

"No," you shake your head to indicate disagreement, pinching the flesh of your thighs once more. “Only the pleasure of our little chats,” the response makes you wince. The pleasure of our little chats? Something’s definitely wrong with me.

Chuckling, James grasps one of the pens you keep by the cash register and scribbles down a series of numbers on his receipt. "If I don't reply, Steve must be holding me hostage.”

"Duly noted," you grin, folding the piece of paper to tuck it into the back pocket of your denim shorts.

He stands there for a second as if absorbing the situation. “Good. It’s a date, then.” he smiles in the end, taking the coffee and the plastic box, and peeks at you behind his shoulder. “And keep the change, please. These treats of yours are more than worth it.”

A timid smile spreads across your lips at the compliment before you sink your teeth into the soft of your bottom lip, observing the soldier scramble out of the bakery, the phone in his flannel jacket ringing for attention.

“Next time,” the redhead appears beside you once James disappears out of sight with a final wave goodbye, “you should give the man coffee and buns on the house," Vivienne nudges you, "both of them." 

A surge of warmth rushes to your cheeks at her innuendo. “It’s great you suddenly possessed the ability to teleport and all, but the dough back there won’t knead itself.” 

“No,” she gasps, and you only laugh at her realisation, turning to help the next customer. 

It’s a date.

The evening of Eldermont’s harvest festival is pleasant, neither too blazing nor cold, but despite the temperature and the appropriate sundress you’ve chosen for it, you’re on the verge of fainting. I cannot faint on our first date, you think and decide it’s the man next to you’s fault, really. The smell of his cologne is too addicting, the hints of pine and cinnamon in his aftershave too intoxicating. James is a gentleman, which you expected and appreciate, but it’s overwhelming, the way he holds your hand to lead you through crowds and attentively listens to your overdrawn stories about the origins of pumpkin carving. Heavens help me.

“Have you checked out the corn maze yet?” Brad asks cheerfully. He’s surrounded by large beverage urns and stacks of disposable drinkware. “Mary mentioned Elijah’s still in there,” he chuckles, pouring two paper cups full of steaming apple cider mead. “The fool must’ve gotten lost or something.” 

“Must’ve,” you glance at him, the corner of your mouth quirking up into a half smile. “Happens every year.”

“The two of you should go,” Brad speaks once again before smiling at Bucky. “It’s a great first date activity.”

James chuckles, and you wonder if he regrets asking you on a date. The small town you call home is ludicrously close, and if Vivienne didn’t spill the beans to Mary as she promised, Mary must’ve spread the ‘rumours’ around herself. The town’s beloved bookshop owner is an incredible woman, but she loves to gossip, and you should’ve expected the second person after Vivienne to consistently insert themselves into your dating life to jump to conclusions. Though the situation isn’t precisely comfortable for you, it must be worse for James. Whilst he has never outright mentioned, the soldier has important reasons to stay under the radar. Bucky has witnessed a lot, horrors you’ve even heard about on the TV, and currently, every resident of Eldermont is aware that James Buchanan Barnes is on a date. With a local baker, nonetheless. Participating in acorn tossing and harvest bingo and conversing with Brad Monty about all kinds of sneaky activities couples get up to in the corn maze. You're certain that James is bound to vanish without a trace due to the town's antics if your diffident and often rather awkward behavior hasn't already scared him away. The anxious parts of your brain have even compiled a mental list of today's disasters: 

Johnny wiped his sweaty hands on Bucky’s jacket, realising the blunder only to mumble “I love this jacket, Sergeant Barnes”, and pretending he wanted to initiate a hug before he disappeared.

Cassie offered you a sample of pecan pie, which you eagerly tasted due to Bucky’s “If I had to choose the second best pie after apple, it would be pecan” comment, and completely choked on. 

Vivienne located you in the farmer’s market to say “hello”, and persuaded James to purchase a pair of beaded bracelets, the two of you had ridiculed moments earlier, for “every first date needs a souvenir to remember it by”. 

James guided you to Mary’s bookstore because you conferred a series of rare hardbacks Mary hides in the back for special customers, and the older woman steered you towards a selection of intimacy guides. 

Indigo, The Sugared Whisk owner, pleaded with James for Captain America’s number in the middle of a busy intersection and discussed his “timeless looks” for the next couple of minutes until a car almost struck the three of you. 

Elijah phoned you in distress, panicking about “having to live out his best years in a smelly corn maze”, which disturbed the sergeant and resulted in an “Elijah will find the exit eventually” monologue on your side. 

You accepted to take a photo of a tourist couple, accidentally dropping the wife’s phone and shattering the screen because James stood so close, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Thanks, Brad,” you fumble with your wallet, hastily placing a ten on the stand. “See you around.”

“Doll,” Bucky doesn’t move once you attempt to remove him from the nightmare that is the situation the two of you found yourselves in. It gives you a second to evaluate his expression, and much to your surprise, his features are as soft as ever. James is blushing, too. “I wanted to pay for that.”

“You paid for the apple pie,” the words slip past your lips mumbled because the only thing you can truly concentrate on is the fact James is blushing. Blushing as a result of Brad’s stories about couples so in love they simply cannot be bothered to locate the labyrinth’s exit before proving their emotions to the world. Couples that could be the two of you. Possibly. A sane person shouldn’t rush to assumptions unless they earned the sweetest nickname from a dream of a man. You’ve never paid much thought to whether you would enjoy being called a ‘doll’—you do, but you would probably adore every label he’d choose. The notion steers your head toward unexpected and dirty waters, and you couldn’t be happier for Brad’s decision to chime in.

“Cassie outdid herself this year,” he nods. “I’m most definitely going to dream about that blackberry pie tonight.” 

“Yes,” James agrees never once breaking the eye contact with you. “The pies were delicious, and it was my pleasure to pay. It was me who demanded a tour.”

“You may pay for the maze then,” you smile at him, “but leave the ten — I’m not that great of a tour guide, and I’m afraid of the dark.”

“Dates should be fun,” James suddenly speaks. “We could’ve skipped the labyrinth.”

The corn maze is high and intimidating, but Bucky’s presence and the soft glow of an orange sunset manage to silence your fears a bit. The passages are almost entirely empty except for the two of you, and each corner you take makes your heart jump at the possibility of encountering spooky surprises. 

“This is fun,” you reassure, taking a sip of mead. James shoots you a look you cannot truly decipher, but you decide the meaning is somewhere between worried and teasing. “It is,” you hesitate for a beat. “I just keep remembering the haunted corn maze in Greenwood. They have scare actors there, who jump out of the bushes when you least expect it and completely startle you. Vivienne took me there last year, and I cannot shake the memories.” 

The expression on his face melts into sympathy. “If it’s any consolation, I would protect you against all the zombies and monsters this maze might throw at us,” he speaks before, “not that it has any,” adding. 

“If theme’s anything to go by, I think we’re OK,” you chuckle at his offer, referring to the cutesy signs and charmingly painted pumpkins scattered throughout the labyrinth, “unless Johnny decided to include a couple gory scenes at the end, though it’d end worse for him than it would for me.”

“Johnny The Mayor?” 

“Johnny The Mayor,” you take yet another sip, nodding. The beverage is barely warm twenty minutes into the attraction, providing only the comfort of a soft alcohol tipsiness. 

“He’s a charming little fella,” Bucky notes, and you don’t have it in yourself to deny the statement. “I’ve never experienced someone initiating a hug by wiping their hands on my jacket.” 

“Sorry,” you offer sheepishly because what could you say after an occurrence so bizarre. Everyone in this town is strange? James must’ve caught on to the fact by this time. 

“It’s alright, and besides, I now have a humorous story to recount at parties, which is a first,” he gleams at you. “It may come as a surprise, but I’m not usually the life of it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” You shift to gaze at him before emptying the cup of mead to steady your nerves. 

“I don’t promise to answer,” James grins, fiddling with the beaded bracelet, “but yes.” 

“Who’s Samuel?” 

“That’s your question?” He laughs as his flesh arm slithers to rest upon your waist. At least you think it’s his flesh arm. The man wears gloves whether the sun shines or the rain pours. You’ve seen pictures, though, and read stories of The Winter Soldier in possession of a metal arm. Neither raise concern, not for the reason you’re smitten with Bucky. Rather, because James was manipulated and stripped of free will, and if heaven would descend, perhaps because that metal arm is sinfully attractive. It’s a thought forbidden to be mentioned aloud, for the gloves are a large indicator he’d enjoy staying silent about the matter. “Who’s Samuel?” 

“Yes,” you sputter. The butterflies his simple action caused you don’t mention. “I want to hear about this Samuel. I’ve been informed he likes birds, especially Redwing, who’s not technically a bird?”

“The Samuel I was babbling about is Sam Wilson. The Falcon, if you’re a fan of CNN,” James teases, steering you into the left pathway of the maze. Despite your instinct to choose right, you stay silent. “Redwing’s a drone of sorts Sam uses on missions, and, this is a direct quote, for surveillance. I despise the thing.”

“If we get lost, forget the second date,” you playfully threaten. Though the coziness of his body pressed to yours is intoxicating, it does nothing to ease the goosebumps painted on your skin, and as the sky bleeds in shades of crimson and purple, the sun melts into the horizon, teasing you for forgetting a sweater. “I would’ve categorised holding a grudge against an object as below you.” 

“If the shoe fits,” he chortles, leading you down a long passage before abruptly stopping. Hesitating for a beat, he drapes the flannel jacket you’ve come to love on the man around your body. The garment is red and weighty, and it smells of James. The gesture makes your heart swell with admiration, but you ignore it. Dates should be approached with a blank slate because expectations are easily shattered. “I shouldn’t deliver Steve that woman’s phone number, should I?” Bucky’s arm finds your waist again. 

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “on the bright side, Indigo is quite a pleasant woman,” you verbalise the thought. James observes your expression, baby blues studying the same features he cannot resist thinking about at nightfall. Blood rushes to his cheeks at the notice of your fingers on his lower back, the heat of your skin piercing through his charcoal henley. “She’d certainly treat Captain America right. On the downside,” you pause, “Indigo is the exact opposite of Steve as the media portrays him. Come to think about it, both of us are.”

“How so?”

“The media portrays supersoldiers as courageous, but Indigo and I once had to call Luke to get rid of a teeny spider. Steve’s active in politics, whilst we often skip the town’s meetings—“

“Eldermont holds town meetings?” James chuckles, subconsciously drawing you in closer.

“Once a month, always on the first Tuesday,” you gleam at him before drawing in a deep breath to calm your violently beating heart. “Last time, we discussed the very pressing issue of Halloween decorations. Johnny insists every business on the main street must participate in the festivities. Indigo and I escaped out the back before the mayor could finish his speech. At the least, Steve would’ve stayed in that meeting, and at the most, he would’ve managed it.”  

“People do say opposites attract.” 

“Heard that before,” you agree. The loose strand of Bucky’s auburn hair tempts you to tuck it behind his ear, but you halt the impulse of committing such a ludicrous decision. “It must be true because you drink coffee black, and I prefer lattes. You have cinnamon buns for breakfast, and I, if time would be gracious enough for breakfast, would choose danishes.” 

“The jury’s decided, then.” The corners of his mouth quirk up into a lazy and wickedly attractive smile, and, you almost wonder if Bucky’s aware of the effect he has on your body because if he isn't, your buckling knees must’ve given it away. “Opposites do attract.” His wildly confident attitude is a new discovery, but you decide you like it. “It would be a shame to ignore matters of the universe.” Confidence is a good shade on him. 

“Is this your way of asking me on a second date?” You tease the man, memorising the pink hues veiling his cheekbones. 

James guides you around the corner, observing the corn maze’s exit, and halts his movements. “Only if the lady agrees,” he shifts to stand before you, catching your forearms in his gloved hands, “which I’m sincerely hoping she does.” 

Resting your arms on his shoulders, you gift yourself a quick moment to explore his features — the stubble gently lining his sharp jaw, the little scar above his eyebrow, and the red lips you, despite hiding it, wanted to kiss since he first visited Spice & Honey. “The lady would love to go on a second date.” 

“Good,” an emotion you cannot comprehend waltzes in his eyes, but, for the sake of your composure, you abstain from thinking it could possibly be lust. “The gentleman is looking forward to it.” There's an argument happening inside him, you can sense it by the way he keeps drawing you closer until the space between your bodies is virtually erased, but retains his posture straight and almost rigid. The weight of should he or should he not lingers in the air around you before James catches your stare and smiles timidly, shattering the flicker of hope you have for him to kiss you. You don’t exactly yearn for him to kiss you. In theory, kiss-less first dates are a great idea, paving the way for deeper conversations and a closer bond. They build anticipation. Anticipation is good, you ponder for a second, but all you can truly focus on is whether James would taste like apple cider mead or the sugary desserts you two savoured earlier. “The night is still young," he speaks, the tone of his voice light and reticent. "It would be a shame to end the date this early." 

“Luke’s open if you want to grab a quick dinner,” you say with a grin, stepping away from him. “Though we should probably exit the maze first.” 

“Yes,” Bucky laughs and extends his arm towards the light at the end of the passage. “Lead the way, pretty lady.” 

[ventismacchiato]

37 behind the lens — co-op irl! that’s called hanging out !

scaramouche x g!n reader

warning; slightly suggestive

“Sorry, these are the only aprons we own,” Kuni frowns as he holds up two ‘Kiss the Cook!’ aprons.

“It’s cute,” you smile as he stares at them with a great disdain.

“Childe bought them,” he mumbles, tying it around his waist with ease, but the same can’t be said for you. He watches you struggle for a minute before making his way behind you.

“Like this,” he murmurs as he brings the strings around your waist and ties them in a bow. His arms are nearly around your hips as he does so, his breath in your ear before he pulls back.

“Where’s my kiss?” you joke as Kuni adjusts the camera in front of you both to let the stream countdown begin. He rolls his eyes as he comes back beside you, making sure you guys have the set amount of ingredients before turning to you.

“Where’s mine?” he counters.

You hold back a smile and fail. You step closer and cradle Kuni’s skull, leaning in one time for a peck.

“Like this?” you ask coyly as Kuni hums.

You surge in once again, this time to lick Kuni’s mouth open, tasting his breath. You both are the same amount of assertive and the same amount of submissive. Kuni catches your bottom lip between his teeth and swells them prettier.

You both pull back with a dazed look in your eyes before realizing the stream had started. Minutes ago.

For the first few minutes the chat was flooded with comments on you both kissing. And being the professionals, or flustered idiots, you both were you quickly jump into an introduction as more viewers arrive.

Kuni snaps out of it and gets into his Balladeer mode, matching your energy and instructing you on what to do.

“I know I titled the stream cooking, but we’re actually baking cupcakes because this one,” he gestures to you, “doesn’t know how to do shit in the kitchen.”

“Hey!” you huff as he busies himself with the mixer, a small smirk on his face as you rush to defend yourself to the chat.

tartnom donated $5

are you guys at the fatui house?

“Yes,” you answer, gesturing behind you, “This is where Kuni lives,” you say as you whisk a batch of frosting in front of you, “But I’ve been sleeping over a lot and have been streaming here a bit, which is why my stream backgrounds may have looked different.”

Kuni reaches over to drop some food dye into the bowl in front of you so it swirls into a pretty lavender. You reach down to scrape a bit onto your spoon and bring it to your lips, the frosting dissolving on your tongue.

“Pretty good,” you nod.

Kuni looks over at your compliment and eyes your mouth for a good second. And as if it was second nature Kuni reaches over and swipes the frosting on the corner of your mouth with his thumb and licks it off clean.

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking the spoon from you and putting the frosting to the side.

This time it was your turn to stand there flustered as your chat went insane.

“You alright?” Kuni has the audacity to ask as he adorned a knowing smile.

“Yes,” you said, stammering so much this time you scarcely convinced yourself.

soobasaur donated $20

SINCE WHEN DID SCARA HAVE SO MUCH RIZZ?!

As the stream goes on you both fall into a rhythm of getting things done, which mainly includes you thinking you did pretty well and Kuni critiquing it and going in to make it perfect.

There were times you were sure he was just putting on a show for the camera, but the more he did certain gestures the more you realized it was just the way he was around you.

“Do it like this, it’s faster,” Kuni says after watching you struggle to whisk the batter by hand. You think he’s just going to grab the whisk from you and demonstrate for you but instead he comes up behind you and reaches over to grab your wrist. His other hand is on your waist as he controls your hand for a minute. You can barely focus on what he was saying with his weight pressed up against your back.

sakkuur donated $10

i feel like im intruding LMFAO

By some miracle, you both manage to finish the cupcakes. You each divide them by half to decorate but your poor wrist was dying by then so Kuni took over.

“Taste test,” you say, picking out a finished cupcake for yourself as Kuni did the same.

“Kuni isn’t a fan of sweets,” you laugh as you watch Kuni grimace at the intense flavor.

A few crumbs flake off the freshly baked dessert and fall down Kuni’s shirt as he's leaning forward, which had caused the fabric to hang low. He grumbles and sets down the cupcake and reaches up to unbutton his shirt. Your cupcake was long forgotten as you watched his bare chest become exposed, his milky white skin on display for you and the other millions of people watching.

ventismacchiato donated $69

PLS LEAVE THE SHIRT UNBUTTONED OMG

“You should listen to the comments,” you swallow, averting your eyes as soon as Kuni catches you staring.

“No, but I’ll listen if you tell me to,” he counters, a sly smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head at you as he makes a move to button up his shirt once again, “Tell me to stop.”

“You’re so aggravating,” you mutter, reaching over to move his hands out of the way and doing his buttons up for him, “I’ll undo it myself later.”

primviq donated $5

EXCUSE ME WHAT

cartierfiles donated $5

DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT??

cindywasneverhere donated $10

SOMEBODY PLS CLIP THAT

Kuni stares at you with a half-lidded stare, tongue pressed against his cheek as he eyes you.

“Okay,” is all he says before nodding to the camera, “End the stream then.”

You just barely shut the stream off before his hands are all over on you.

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

i cant rmbr if i already used that neck photo but oh well idc, you can ignore the lipstick stains if you’re not comfortable with that and just pretend it’s hickeys cus that what i’m trying to imply

i didnt specify what language scara was learning on duolingo but i think it would be cute if he was learning what the reader’s mother tongue/native language is. and if you only speak english then maybe he’s touching up on french to take you back to paris

lmk if it’s hard to read anything in an ask and i’ll zoom in for you

jungkook in the edit that i slayed

author’s notes — hope the grammar isn’t ass it’s 5am

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

[thefallennightmare]

Unveiled Hearts-Matt Dierkes One Shot

*all pictures for cover found on pinterest. gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x OFC

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, smut

Summary: Matt and Faye still can’t confess their feelings for each other. Crossing the line from friends to lovers could change the dynamics of the tour of the Concrete Jungle. An accidental kiss reveals the truth hidden behind small smiles and laughter. They both know that the smart thing would be to forget it ever happened. But some kisses are so spectacular that they change everything.

Authors Notes: When I tell you guys, this has been MONTHS in the making. I'm so glad I can finally say it's finished! Buckle up, it's a long one! Hopefully, all of your questions will be answered.

Tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit

If I missed anyone on the tag list, I apologize!

FAYE

I sat in my car, drumming my fingers against my steering wheel and trying to keep my breathing even. Every few seconds, my eyes would dart to the clock on the dashboard, painley waiting for it to read 6:00 so I could get this meeting over with. 

“Five minutes,” I muttered to myself followed by a pep talk. 

This is a job interview, one I’ve been to countless times before. I knew what I was doing and also was confident enough in my abilities that they’d love my work. Lana even reassured me. 

“They’re a great batch of guys to work with, Faye! It’s like we’re a big family, we take care of each other,” her words echoed in my mind. 

I watched as these guys worked in a frenzied state packing the two vans with various equipment but somehow made it seem like they flowed together naturally. The effort conversations and laughter that carried between them showed how tight knit they were so I couldn’t help but feel like I was a stranger that was about to disrupt their lives. 

You are. They don’t know you. 

Grumbling at the voice in my mind, I reached for my portfolio and camera, slinging it over my neck; I never went anywhere without it. 

The laughter from the large group carried over to the other end of the parking lot where I was slowly walking up. I had to meet two of these guys at this large warehouse while they spent the afternoon packing up their things. My hands shook as I clutched my photo portfolio to my chest and as I approached them, unable to hide behind the invisible vortex I hope shielded me, I came to a stop a few feet away. 

My hazel eyes tracked each person's movement as they went from the large garage opening of the warehouse over to the two trucks and large tour bus parked on the opposite side of the lot. My mouth ran dry as I tried to find my voice to call over to them, announce my arrival, but it was difficult due to the racing of my heart. 

Suddenly a soft buzz in my back pocket was my saving grace and I pulled it out, smiling at the name on the screen. 

Tay: Okay, we need a girls night out tonight. I broke up with loser face so I need to forget about it. Find someone new. Preferably one that has a head full of curls. You know those are my weaknesses.

I giggled while quickly typing out my response. 

Me: Well, you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. 

Tay: Fuck yes. I’ll pick you up at eight!

“Are you Faye?” 

My eyes snapped up from my phone to the tall figure in front of me, the sunlight catching the intricate and somewhat colorful tattoos on both of his arms. A lone finger scratched at his cheek, showcasing a small heart tattoo. I knew who he was, Lana already giving me the full run down on everyone in the band. 

While he was gorgeous, I also knew he wasn’t available. But not like it mattered, I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here to work. 

“Uh,” my hands shook again as I pocketed my phone, clutching the portfolio to my chest. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

The man raised a brow with a soft smile. “There’s no need to apologize. Were you standing there long?” 

I shook my head. “No, no. I just walked up a minute ago but didn’t want to bother you guys. You seem a little busy.”

“You’re fine,” he stuck out his hand. “I’m Noah.” 

I desperately wished I could have wiped the sweat off of my palm as I grasped his; it engulfing mine. 

“Faye. But I guess you already know that,” I chuckled lightly. 

“Yeah, Lana mentioned you’d be stopping by to talk with us,” Noah turned to look over his shoulder, running a hand through his dark waves. “Uh, Matt!” 

I watched silently as another man stepped down the ramp of one of the trucks, head snapped over towards Noah and I. He removed the hat from his head to shake out the long strands of his hair and my breath caught in my throat. The tattoos that covered his left arm were hard to read from this distance but the bright color of the one on his leg immediately stood out. 

Dragon Ball Z. 

I’d never been a fan of it but my younger brother watched it all the time growing up. 

Suddenly realizing what Noah called him, I remembered Lana’s warning from earlier. 

“Everyone is chill. Well, except Matt. As long as you stay on his good side you should be fine.”

My palms began to sweat even more now and I rubbed one of them on the side of my thigh, hoping to dry it before needing to shake Matt’s hand. As he walked closer to where Noah and I were standing, a soft breeze blew through the strands of his golden hair and I marveled at the confidence that radiated off of him. Those dark eyes tracked over me; from my scuffed converse up over my long legs and I knew he was assessing my tattoos like I did his. When his lips twitched with a sly smile, I knew Matt had taken in the sight of my teal hair. 

“Hi,” I said once he came to a stop next to Noah. 

The height difference between them was immediately recognizable. 

“This is Faye; Lana’s cousin,” Noah said towards Matt. 

He nodded. “The fill in.” 

The way Matt said those words didn’t quite sit well with me but not wanting to ruin this potential job, I gave a forced smile instead. 

“She mentioned you guys wanted to see my portfolio,” I said while handing it over to Noah, who took it with a smile.

“How long have you been in this business?” Noah asked, slowly flipping through my portfolio. 

I adjusted the strap of my camera on my shoulder. “I started taking pictures when I was ten. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I made it my profession. I’ve photographed a handful of local bands.” 

Matt raised a brow. “So Bad Omens would be the first big name band you’ve photographed?” 

There was still that underlying tone in his voice, one I couldn’t quite decipher. 

“As a job, yes. I’ve taken a few pictures when I went to shows. But I can assure you, I know what I’m doing,” I said with slightly narrowed eyes. 

Noah froze on one photograph, a loving smile pulling at his lips. His eyes lingered on it for a long moment before showing it to Matt, who let out a small chuckle. 

“What are the odds,” he muttered under his breath. 

“So you’re used to working in fast paced environments?” Noah asked while handing back my portfolio.

I nodded, clutching it to my chest yet again. “Yeah. It’s nothing new for me.”

“This will be your first time touring though, right?” 

“Yeah,” I nodded again at Noah. “Might take some getting used to but I can assure you, I’ll be fine.” 

“Cool,” he smiled. “I know it’s kind of last minute but we leave tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be ready,” I gave a curt nod.

Underneath the rim of his hat, Matt’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent. Assessing me with the darkness of them but never once parting his lips to say what was on his mind. Which irritated me, the feeling burning low in my gut because I absolutely hated when people didn’t say what was on their mind. If they couldn’t tell me how they truly felt about a situation, how could I trust them later on? 

“Is that fine with you, Matthew?” I asked with a raised brow. 

His jaw ticked when I uttered his full name and briefly, I saw a tiny smile play at his lips. 

“Be here at six a.m,” was all he said before turning on his heels and walking back towards the large trucks. 

I pursed my lips, doing my best to keep my comment to myself; something Noah noticed. 

“Don’t let Matt get under your skin. He’s not too fond of change. But he’ll get over it. Lana couldn’t stop raving about you. Bryan is actually excited to work with you,” Noah said. 

Their other photographer. 

“I’m actually a huge fan of Bryan. I have a few of his prints hung up in my apartment,” I said while looking up at Noah. 

He chuckled while running a hand through his hair. “Did you want to stay? We’re almost done packing up the trucks and have plans for a little BBQ at my girlfriend's place. She’d love it if you joined.”

I thought about it for a long moment. It would probably be a good thing to do in a way to get to know everyone before being stuck on the road with them for the next few weeks. But then I remembered my plans with Tay and knew if I backed out on her much needed girls night, she’d be upset. 

“Thank you for the invite but I already have plans with my friend tonight. I’m sorry,” I said. 

Noah waved me off. “No need to apologize, Faye. We’re about to be stuck together for the next couple of weeks so take all the alone time you need.”

Just then, someone ran up to Noah with a breathless smile and I couldn’t stop staring at the mounds of curls on top of his head. 

“Hey, man. Sorry I’m late.” 

Noah gave the man a somber smile. “How’d it go?” 

“She stood me up.”

My eyes darted between the two and when Noah took in my confused state, he motioned to the man with curls. 

“Faye, meet Jesse. Jesse, meet the new photographer, Faye.” 

Jesse gave me a bright smile, the one that eased away all of your worries, and he adjusted the round glasses perched on his nose before extending a hand to me. 

“Oh, Lana’s cousin! She mentioned you’d be filling in for her while she was gone,” Jesse said. 

“Yep,” I shook his hand. “Seems like she talked about me to everyone.” 

Suddenly another man came up on the side of Jesse, slapping his back. “How’d the date go?” 

This man I instantly recognized. 

Bryan Kirks. 

Jesse snorted. “She stood me up. I waited at the restaurant for thirty minutes. Tried calling and texting her; got left on read.” 

“No fucking way,” Bryan shook his head. “I never had a good feeling about her. Who spells their name with two X’s like that?”

“That’s bullshit,” Noah grumbled under his breath. 

Although I wasn’t sure what happened, it was clear this relationship that Jesse was talking about ended in a way that made Bryan and Noah upset for their friend. Seeing the slight confusion on my face, Jesse gave me a weak smile. 

“My girlfriend stood me up tonight.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I frowned while shifting on my feet. 

He shrugged while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s alright. I’ll get over it.” 

“Well you know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else,” Bryan smirked. 

“I just told my best friend the same thing,” I laughed while tucking a piece of teal hair behind my ears. 

The ease that fell over me as I stood with the three men, talking as if I’d known them for years, made the fear of what the next few weeks held almost non-existent. 

“Is that the D5000?” Bryan asked while pointing to the Nikon hanging off my shoulder. 

I beamed while holding it up. “Yeah. My dad gifted it to me when I decided to make this a career. I have a few other models but I take this one everywhere with me for work.”

Bryan motioned towards Noah and Jesse, who all stood together, which prompted me to snap a few pictures of them; all three of them having goofy smiles then a few serious ones. 

I clicked through the pictures while all three of them glanced over my shoulder and felt Jesse snicker towards Noah. 

“Your girl is going to love that pouty look.”

“Shut up,” Noah grumbled but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“HEY! Assholes! Are we still taking a break or actually here to work?!” 

All of our eyes snapped up to Matt, who was pushing a large crate towards one of the trucks. Even from this distance, I could see the slits of his eyes staring directly at me. Something about him irritated me all while causing my stomach to flip as those narrowed eyes grazed up my long legs. 

“This will be a fun few weeks,” Bryan said. 

Jesse bid us all a goodbye with a nod. “Have fun with that. I’ve got plans at a certain cafe.”

As he rambled off which cafe he was going to visit tonight, I couldn’t help but smile. 

“The one downtown? Next to the therapist's office?” 

Jesse smiled. “Yeah. It’s Jolly’s favorite, for obvious reasons. We all go there at least once a week. We should all go once you guys get back.” 

“Sure,” I smiled. 

Noah gave me one final smile. “Believe it or not, we’re all stoked you’re joining us.” 

“Lana has said all good things about you guys. I’m excited. And thank you for giving me this opportunity, given my lack of experience.” 

Something twinkled in his almond eyes as he took a few steps towards the rest of the group of people. 

“It was one of the pictures I saw in your portfolio that sold me.” 

With a small wave, I turned and was ready to head back to my car when a loud voice halted me momentarily. 

“6 A.M! DON’T BE LATE!” 

Matt. 

Throwing a hand over my shoulder, I made my way over towards my car and quickly typed up a message to Tay.

Me: How does coffee and a nice book in a cafe sound?

She replied while I was buckling my seat belt. 

Tay: You know I’m always down for that. 

MATT

Carefully, I watched as Faye smiled at Noah before she retreated back to her car. My eyes never left her form even when Noah stepped in front of me, blocking my view. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that I looked over to him.

“What?” 

He shook his head with a playful smile. “I’ve seen that look before. I’ve actually had that look in my own eyes a few times. It’s a familiar feeling.” 

Rolling my eyes, I went back to loading up the trucks. It was already well past six and with plans for the BBQ in less than an hour, we needed to haul ass to finish packing everything. Something I made known to Noah, who continued watching me with a smile. 

“Keep staring, lover boy,” I joked while pushing the crate up the ramp into one of the trucks. 

Noah stood at the bottom of his, hands buried deep in the pockets of his Bad Omens joggers. 

“I invited her tonight.” 

My head snapped over at him. “Why did you do that?” 

“Because we’re going to be with each other for the next three weeks. I thought it would be a good ice breaker before having her jump right into everything tomorrow morning.” 

There was no reason for me to have a guard up when it came to Faye but we’d been burned so many times before with new people joining the Bad Omens crew. Anytime we thought about having someone join our team, I was always the one that voiced my concerns. 

Since Faye was cousins with Lana, I couldn’t do that. Lana gave us her word that we could trust Faye. Although, I knew deep down that wasn’t the sole reason why I’d been closed off. 

I couldn’t allow myself to get close to anyone else, afraid of getting hurt again. I’d seen all of my friends around me find love while I stood on the outside, wondering if I’d ever find that. I told myself that work was the only thing I needed right now. But the moment I took in the sight of Faye and felt my heart stutter in my chest, I knew that it would be hard for me to abide by my own rules. 

I’d become transfixed the moment my eyes landed on her, standing in the middle of the parking lot looking almost like a little sheep that found their way into the den of wolves. How bright her eyes were as they locked with mine. The way her lips moved as she talked to Noah. How they twitched when she spoke my name. 

Matthew. 

My body shivered when I remembered how sweet it sounded falling from her pink lips. 

“Is she coming?” I asked while loading up the last of the crates. 

Noah still wore that annoying smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, she already had plans with a friend.” 

All I did was hum as I shut the door of the truck, doing my best to ignore the way my heart sunk in my stomach. 

“Well, let’s hope she’ll be here on time tomorrow because I’m not waiting for her even if she’s two minutes late,” I adjusted my hat. 

Noah squeezed my shoulder. “Have some faith, Matthew.” 

He quickly scurried away before I could do anything in retaliation for using my full name. A familiar car pulled up which made Noah sprint towards it and wrap his arms around the figure that stepped out from behind the steering wheel. My heart ached while watching the love they shared, like it always did. I wasn’t jealous of either of them. I was jealous of what they had. 

“Matt!” Her voice called over from where Noah had her in his arms. “Are you riding with us?” 

Putting on my best fake smile, I gave her a thumbs up. “Just promise no dessert nicknames the entire drive, please?”

FAYE

Stifling a yawn behind my hand, I let my shoes scuff along the pavement as I walked up the familiar drive, the rising sun casting me in an everglow of orange and golden hues. The birds sang their morning songs and the grass was still wet with the morning dew as I came to a stop in the somewhat empty parking lot. I’d expected everyone to be here, ready to load up, but then again I was ten minutes early. Not wanting to leave my car here for three weeks, I had Tay drop me off. My plan for running into a certain someone failed when we got too caught up watching a crime documentary on her television. 

“You’re early.” 

Whirling around at the voice, I saw Matt leaning against the door of the tour bus drowning in a hoodie and joggers. He gave off a comfortable vibe that nearly matched my own. Knowing we had a long drive to the first city, I opted to wear biker shorts and an oversized shirt; one that caught Matt’s eyes immediately but never saying anything about it.

Adjusting my backpack, I gripped the handle of my suitcase a little tighter. 

“I’m an early bird,” I shrugged. “Figured it was better to be early rather than late.”

Matt hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest, and I felt his burning gaze all over me. We were standing close to each other and I could feel his body heat radiate off of him, encasing me. The sunrise caught the darkness of his eyes causing them to sparkle and I drank in the sight of the faint stubble that peppered his chin. The sharpness of his cheekbones and the way they could cut my finger if I dragged it across it had me halting doing so. The way my skin ignited as his gaze lingered on my face made my heart skip a beat. It was as if he was taking his own mental pictures but never once making a sound or moving. Simply leaning against the bus while I squirmed on my feet. Teal strands of hair fell into my eyes and I gently brushed them away. I could have sworn I had the softest intake of breath from Matt but it was so quiet, I wasn’t sure. 

He nodded towards my suitcase. “Can I?” 

With a nod, I let him take it to put it in the undercarriage part of the bus, the calloused skin of his fingers brushing along my knuckles and instantaneously, I felt something spark inside of me. If Matt felt it, he made no indication and set my suitcase alongside all of the others.  Then with a swift nod towards the door, he motioned for me to follow him up the stairs. 

“Everyone is awake so no need to be quiet,” Matt said. 

When we stepped into the main area of the bus, I felt myself freeze when a few different sets of eyes landed on me. Bryan gave me a wave and a smile while I looked at the four other men that were scattered throughout. I recognized them from not only knowing who Bad Omens were but also Lana’s rundown texts. 

“You must be Faye,” Jolly wiped a hand on a towel as he was stocking the fridge. 

“Nice to meet you,” I shook his hand.

Then after meeting Nicholas, I noticed Nick sitting in the far corner booth of the small kitchen area, a somber smile on his face. 

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Nicholas sighed. “Relationship trouble.”

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “What’s in the California water? That’s the third relationship trouble I’ve heard of in the last twenty four hours.” 

When Nicholas raised a brow, I explained not only were Nick and Jesse going through something but so was my friend, Tay. 

“Jolly, you better watch out. You could be next,” Steven teased after we exchanged greetings. 

Jolly was silent, muttering something to himself in Sweden before retreating to the back of the bus. From what Lana told me, Jolly was in a relationship but it had been hard for him and his girlfriend. Almost everyone in this friend group had a significant other. Besides Matt and Bryan. 

At the thought of Matt, I quickly peeked through the strands of hair that fell into my face yet again to see that he had sat on one of the couches and kept his attention on his phone. 

“Or Noah’s relationship could be next,” Bryan chuckled. “Him and-.”

“We are perfectly fine, thank you. No need to worry,” Noah’s voice echoed throughout the bus as he stepped into the main area. 

They all gave him a quick wave in greeting and when he saw me standing there, clutching my things, he raised a brow. 

“Did anyone show you to your bunk?” 

I shook my head. “No. I mean, I could find it myself but I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m imposing where I shouldn’t be.” 

My hands shook with nerves and I could practically feel my heart pounding in my throat and ears. It felt like everyone was staring at me, even though I knew it wasn't the case. Noah glanced over to Matt, who still couldn’t be bothered to look away from his phone, and then let out a long sigh. 

“Come on. If my girlfriend found out that I didn’t give you the proper welcoming tour, she’d kick my ass,” Noah smiled before leading me towards the back area of the bus that housed the bunks. 

“Not that you would complain,” Bryan chuckled from behind us. 

“Some of us snore; me included. So I hope you brought some headphones,” Noah joked. 

All I could do was give a small smile and set my backpack down on the empty bunk he pointed too. It was the last one available on the top left, closer to the back lounge. 

It was still early morning and the lack of sleep from last night was beginning to creep deep in my bones. Noah let out a small laugh when he saw me try to hide a yawn behind my hand. 

“You should get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive to the next city,” he suggested.

I waved him off. “I’ll be alright. I feel like maybe I should sit and chat with you guys. Get to know you.” 

“After you,” Noah extended a tattooed arm back to the front of the bus. 

There was only one spot left to sit; right next to Matt. Noah opted to help Jolly set up a little breakfast while I slowly sat down on the couch, purposely leaving a few feet between Matt and I. 

“So, Faye. Lana is your cousin?” Nicholas wondered while sitting across from me. 

I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying to find a comfortable position that would help ease my nerves. “Yeah. Our mom’s are sisters.” 

“Photography runs in the family, huh?” Bryan now asked as he was messing around with his camera. 

“Yeah,” I smiled. “My dad did it as a hobby while I was growing up but I was always interested. When I was old enough and wanted to start myself, he gave me one of his older ones. I don’t use that one as much, only for really special occasions.”

“Lana said you two are pretty close,” Jolly said. 

I nodded before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I grew up with four brothers; three older and one younger. So I spent as much time as I could at Lana’s house.”

We all continued to chat for a while, long after the bus finally began moving and the sun rose to its full heightened glory. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to all of them. Well, almost all of them. 

Matt didn’t say one word the entire time, simply kept to himself while typing away on his phone. Never once did I bother to glance over at him with the looming curiosity as to what he was doing on his phone for the last two hours. While everyone made me feel welcome and comfortable, I couldn’t ignore the weird vibe I was getting from Matt. It was as if I was a pest infiltrating a home that was designed to keep me away. But I somehow managed to sneak in through the smallest of cracks. 

Yet I also couldn't ignore the way my heart raced as I sat next to him. Or the way my blood pulsated inside of my veins when he shifted in his spot and our knees bumped against each other. I definitely couldn’t ignore the way Matt’s fingers twitched when I rested my hand between us on the couch. Ever so softly, I felt the calloused pad of this thumb brush along my wrist; so quick I nearly missed it. 

Bryan and I were having a deep conversation on different ways we could work together on this tour that I didn’t realize Matt had retreated to the back of the bus. It wasn’t until I dismissed myself from the group with the muttering of wanting to take a nap that I found Matt standing in the narrow hallway between the bunks. 

I knew I would need to squeeze past him to reach my bunk but it was then I realized he was also climbing down from his bunk; across from mine. 

“Scuse me,” I mumbled while brushing past him, his chest nearly touching mine. 

Silence must have been Matt’s strong suit because yet again, he said nothing. Standing toe to toe with him, I saw those dark eyes stare down at me underneath his hat. His pupils dilated causing his eyes to darken even more when his gaze rested on my lips as I spoke. 

“I need to get up in my bunk,” I breathed, afraid to raise my voice above a whisper. 

Agitation began to weigh heavy within me when Matt still said nothing, simply continued to stare at me. I knew I should keep it in check, not snap at him since he was technically my boss, but if this is how he was going to act the entire three weeks, there would be no possible way I’d be able to keep myself calm. 

“Do you have a problem, Matthew?” I asked while crossing my arms over my chest. 

His lips twitched. “It’s Matt.” 

“That seems like something I’d call you if we were friends. You’ve been giving me the silent treatment since I met you yesterday. So it’s Matthew,” I shrugged. 

Due to the tight space between us, I could feel his warm breath as it brushed over my lips when he cocked his head to the side. Every single fiber of my being felt like it had been set ablaze with that look alone and even though my hands were tucked away, I could still feel them shaking. My heart was beating hard against the cage in my chest and I knew Matt was able to hear it.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and I smelled the briefest scent of mint. The feeling of skin on skin had my eyes casting down to my leg where Matt’s fingers gently grazed over exposed skin of my thigh. I shivered underneath the touch, letting him know how much of an effect he had on me. It shouldn’t be like this, I didn’t know more than a few things Lana told me about him. But somehow he managed to sink his way inside of my mind. 

Last night while I was trying to sleep, I’d been plagued with images of Matt. It didn’t help that our meeting earlier in the evening was short so once I was home and settled, I looked him up on social media. Not much gave him away on Twitter besides the occasional snarky remark that had me shaking my head and videos of racoons that had me smiling. On Instagram, I spent a few minutes scrolling through and mentally liking his pictures. 

Until I actually liked one of his pictures. 

From six months ago. 

It was of him holding a kiwi guava flavored Celisus while standing in front of a cardboard cut out of one. I hadn’t noticed I accidentally liked it until I was scrolling back up a few minutes later and nearly fell out of my bed when I saw the red heart underneath the picture. I knew un liking the picture would do no good. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Matt had seen the notification. 

Maybe he didn’t since he made no mention of it. Or maybe he had seen it. It would explain the sly smirk playing on his lips at the moment. 

“Consider yourself lucky. I don’t let anyone call me Matthew,” he hummed before slipping past me, back to the front of the bus. 

I stood there for a moment, eyes unblinking, as the scent of him lingered in the air. It filled my senses and brought an oddly calm feeling over me. But that’s not what gave me pause. It was his words.

With a groan, I ran a hand down my face and climbed up into my bunk with the hope that a nap would cool down my heated skin. It wasn’t until I was comfortable in the bunk, wrapped underneath the blanket with my phone, I saw the notification from Instagram that came in over an hour ago; while I was sitting next to him and talking with Bryan. 

Mattxdierkes followed you. 

Mattxdierkes liked your photo. 

“Shit,” I muttered while clicking on the notification. 

It was a picture of me standing in front of the ocean during a gloomy morning, wearing a white cable knit sweater. You could barely see my face due to my teal hair covering it. The caption was a simple wave emoji. It was also posted last year meaning Matt had also done his own stalking. Although, a little voice in the back of my mind told me that this was not an accidental like. Matt meant it, which meant he knew about my own stalking.

Grumbling a slew of curses to myself, I buried my phone underneath the pillow and let the thought of sleep take me away. 

MATT

Running a hand through my long and unruly hair, I did my best to comb out the knots before sliding a hat over it. I twisted and turned my neck to each side, breathing out a soft groan when the necessary bones cracked and popped. Years of touring with my old band and Bad Omens did a number on my back and neck but I tried not to complain too much. I love what I do and the people I do it with. But that didn’t mean I had to love the bunks I slept in. 

The first three days of the tour flew by and with today’s off day, every single one of us was desperate for a relaxing day filled with brunch and touring the city. 

With a quick flick of my eyes over to the bunk across from mine, I noticed that Faye’s was empty with the blanket and pillow fixed neatly. My heart began to race at the thought of her teal hair spread out against the silk pillowcase while she slept. Unlike all of us, she kept the curtain of her bunk open because of this irrational fear that she would suffocate. 

“I hate feeling like I’m enclosed in a tight space,” she shrugged while Bryan jokingly teased her for it. 

Faye almost immediately fit in with all of us, like she’d been working on the crew for years. Night one, her and Bryan found the perfect rhythm together; never once stepping on each other's toes. She understood Bryan was the main photographer so she opted in getting pictures of things he didn’t. Some that involved the sound deck. 

More importantly, me. 

I had every intention of keeping my guard up around her but the more her bright eyes shined at me and the way her melodic laugh reached my ears, I felt those walls slowly starting to chip away. Faye was there from set up to tear down helping all of us, never once complaining. Even after some long days, she always went to bed with a smile on her face; one that I couldn’t stop thinking about. 

When Lana first told us that her cousin would be filling in for her, I immediately did my own research. I found her photography Instagram along with her personal one; it wasn’t until recently that I decided to follow both of them. But from the first moment I saw her most recent picture, Faye took my breath away. 

It wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple selfie in front of a large mirror. She was wearing a golden sundress, showcasing off her long legs and the tattoo on her left arm of six fairies, surrounded by different flowers. Her teal hair cascaded down her back in waves, giving her an even more ethereal aura and it made my heart stutter in my chest. 

I told myself not to get in over my head with these feelings. It was a simple crush that would lead to nothing. She was only joining us for a few weeks and once we returned back to Los Angeles, we would all part ways. No use in getting my heart broken; again. 

But when I received the notification from Instagram about her liking an older picture of mine, I couldn’t stop the smile that came to my face. It was evident I had been on her mind as well. Again, I told myself not to think too much of it because it could have been an honest mistake. 

Was it an honest mistake when she brushed her hand against yours? Or when she stood a little too close to you in the sound deck last night?

Groaning at the voice in my mind, I remembered the scent of Faye as she took a few minute breather during Miracle last night. She’d taken some videos from my spot in the sound deck and decided to hang back for a long moment, watching the set with a look of awe in those bright eyes. I did my best to focus on my work but the scent of her peach shampoo grazed my nose causing me to sigh in content. All of the blood rushed through my body with heat and I felt my cock twitch underneath my sweats when her shoulder brushed against my arm.

“Everything alright?” She asked. 

I nodded, hitting the necessary buttons to cue up the next song. “Yep. Totally fine.”

Everything was not fine. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the small smile that played on her lips while she watched the guys perform their set. I couldn’t forget the way she smelled or the way my body ignited with just her simple touch. 

What started off as a closed off relationship slowly began to blossom into a growing friendship. I was no longer giving her the cold shoulder, actually conversing with her when we were in the same room. Faye began to warm up to me as well, learning quickly that this “hater mode” people thought I had was only ever directed to people outside of my family. 

She still called me Matthew though and I wasn’t about to admit to anyone how much I liked it when it fell from her pink lips; the ones that were always shiny from the gloss. 

With a groan, I dragged a hand over my face before pulling out my phone to send a text to Noah. 

Me: I’ll be there soon. Woke up late. 

Almost immediately he texted back. 

Noah Seb: Cool. We just got here. Faye should be waiting for you.

“What?” I muttered as I came into view of the front area of the bus, my eyes immediately connecting with those bright hazel ones that began plaguing my every thought. 

Fay was sitting crossed legged on one of the couches with a book in her lap, teal waves falling over her face. I noticed how content she was reading, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. There were a few flowers placed behind her head, intertwined within her hair, and when she finally glanced up from her book due to me walking into view, she gave me a small smile. 

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she pulled out one of the flowers from her hair to use it as a bookmark and then she closed the book, setting it on the seat next to her. 

The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien. 

It felt as if my soul had been intertwined with hers, connecting on such a level that I could feel something inside of me pulsating; bringing me closer to Faye. 

This is that bullshit Noah was always jabbering about.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I rubbed a hand over the tattoo on my left arm; the one dedicated to The Lord of The Rings. Anytime I was around her, I always wore long sleeves so she never saw it but now that I wore shorter sleeves thanks to the warmer weather, Faye’s eyes quickly tracked my movement and I heard her suck in a breath. 

“Elvish?” She rose to her feet and motioned towards the script writing along my wrist. 

“Y-yeah. It’s one of my favorite movies,” I rubbed at the back of my neck, suddenly nervous under her gaze. 

Those hazel eyes sparkled as they tracked over every line of ink on my arm and eventually she sighed. “I never thought I’d be jealous of you, Matthew.”

I snorted. “I’ll take that as a win.”

We stood there for a long beat, both just staring at each other, and that magnetic pull I felt earlier was stronger now. It vibrated against my body, almost like it was forcing its way out so it could connect with Faye. 

“We should have a marathon one day. Watch all six movies; The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings,” she spoke while still looking at the tattoo on my arm. 

My mouth ran dry, trying to figure out what the best way to respond without sounding desperate because that’s all I wanted to do. Maybe we could skip out on brunch and hang back on the bus, just the two of us, and watch them.

Instead, no words came out of my mouth. They were tangled on my tongue and I looked like an idiot standing in front of her with moving lips that said nothing. 

I could feel her starting to pull away from me and desperate to feel some kind of contact again, I let my fingers reach for her hand to link our fingers together until she cleared her throat and motioned towards the outside. 

“We should probably go. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” 

“Sure,” I nodded. 

The walk to the restaurant was quiet as she walked a few paces ahead of me, holding the camera close to her chest. She wore a flowy white sundress, highlighting her skin even more and the soles of her sandals smacked against the concrete making it look like she was floating in the air as she skipped. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I typed out a message to Noah. 

Me: Dude, she was reading The Hobbit. She’s a fan of LOTR.

Noah Seb: Have you guys left yet? I’m starving. 

Rolling my eyes, I replied. 

Me: Did you not see what I said? She was reading The Hobbit! What are the odds she’d be reading that book?

Me: Also, yes we're on our way. 

I glanced up from my phone in time to catch Faye taking a picture of me. 

“Whoever you were texting, must have been serious because of the look on your face,” she informed me in regards to my raised brow. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” I muttered under my breath before texting Noah again, who had yet to respond. 

Me: She saw my LOTR tattoo and made a comment of maybe watching the movies together. I was an idiot and didn’t know what to say so I said nothing. She probably thinks I don’t want to. But I do.

Me: She probably doesn't feel the same. There’s no use getting my hopes up for something that won’t happen. I need to focus on work. 

Noah Seb: Is this how I was? In the beginning?

I snorted. 

Me: No, you two were worse.

Pocketing my phone, I followed step in step with Faye as we turned the corner, the restaurant coming into view. Her aura radiated like wings fluttering, making my heart do the same when she glanced up at me. 

She gave me a smile of thanks as I opened the door for her, her scent was all consuming when she walked past me. The restaurant was busy for a late Saturday morning which made the front waiting area packed causing me to slide up behind Faye. People were brushing past us to find their way out and nearly stumbling into her, I grasped both hands on her hips to keep myself steady. 

“Sorry,” I breathed against the shell of her ear. “Some asshole nearly knocked me over.” 

She giggled, the sound making my stomach flutter. I wasn’t sure what shifted between us from our first meeting, maybe it was the fact that I was starting to open up to her more that I was seeing a different side of Faye; a softer side. 

“It’s alright, Matthew,” she glanced over her shoulder to me. 

She still called me Matthew but I wasn’t about to correct her or tell her how much I loved it.

“Oh, look!” Faye pointed towards the large table in the far corner of the restaurant where everyone had been waiting for us. 

The immense cold I felt when she slipped through my grasp made me shudder and reluctantly, I followed behind her; my eyes never leaving her back. 

Something Nicholas caught but said nothing as I sat next to him. The only other open spot was next to me which is where Faye was, already talking with Jolly. Eyes grazed over the menu, trying to figure out what to get when soft fingers grazed over my arm, causing me to shiver under her touch. 

“What are you going to get?” Faye wondered. 

“Not sure. What about you?” 

She pursed those plump lips and my eyes locked in on them, desperately wanting to know what they tasted like. 

“I can’t decide. The eggs benedict sounds good but the french toast is calling my name,” she sighed dreamily at the pictures of the food. 

For the next while as the waitress came to take our orders, I busied myself on my phone to make sure everything was set up for the show tomorrow. Everyones conversations were hushed around me doing my best to focus on my phone and not the person beside me. The way her voice sounded so magical or the way she looked intently at Noah across the table as he divulged about his relationship. 

Now that he was finally where he wanted to be with her, Noah wouldn’t stop talking about her any chance he could. 

“She was actually the one who suggested I add the woo in The Death of Peace of Mind,” Noah chuckled while taking a long drink of his water. 

“I was wondering where that came from,” Faye said. 

Finally finished with the work on my phone, I set it down just as our food came and the waitress placed the eggs benedict in front of me. Immediately I took half of it and set it on an extra plate, sliding it over to Faye. 

“Matthew,” she smiled. “You don’t need to share your food with me.” 

I shrugged while licking off the sauce from my finger. “This way you get what you wanted.” 

Her eyes were fixated on my thumb gliding over my bottom lip before she seemed to snap out of it and cut her french toast in half to set it on my plate. 

“Wow, sharing food? Matt doesn’t share food with anyone,” Bryan said. “I actually don’t think any of these guys share their food with their girlfriends.” 

Noah snorted. “Excuse me? I’ll remind you I always share with-.” 

Once again their conversations fell away as I ate quietly, every so often glancing over to Faye who was already watching me. There was the smallest bit of powdered sugar on the corner of her lips, almost teasing me to lick it clean. But before I could give in to the urge, she wiped it away with a finger after she caught me staring. 

With the plates cleared from the table and the bill in front of me, I started to grab my wallet the same time Faye began to reach for her purse. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nick waved her off. “Matthew pays.” 

My eyes sliced into him. “It’s Matt.” 

“Matt pays. Or should I say, the business always pays,” Nick corrected himself. 

“Oh,” Faye’s eyes sparked over at me and she bumped her shoulder with mine. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”

On the walk back to the bus, I hung back with Noah and Jolly while Faye and Bryan talked about all the different shots and videos they could get tomorrow night. She’d been wanting to try out the video aspect of her camera and Bryan mentioned that he’d be more than happy to show her how. 

“You’re staring,” Jolly’s voice broke through my trance on Faye’s side profile. 

Pushing his shoulder, I shook my head and focused my attention straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why you’re trying to hide how you feel about it. It’s clear there’s some kind of feeling there.” 

“The last thing I need right now is a relationship. Especially with someone who works for me. It’s bound to get messy,” I said. 

“You don’t know that, Matt,” Jolly adjusted his sunglasses. “You deserve to be happy too.” 

I shrugged. “She’s twenty five. I’m almost thirty.” 

Noah pulled me to a stop and removed his sunglasses momentarily. “Is that what's stopping you?” 

Sighing, I scuffed my shoe against a rock. “It wouldn’t work out. I’m trying to save us both from heartbreak when it comes eventually.” 

Not wanting to explain my reasoning any further, I gave them a weak smile before walking the last little distance to the bus. But my footsteps faltered when I noticed a small stand set up right next to where our bus was parked. 

Fresh Flowers. 

I lingered on one set of flowers, the vivid color reminding me of someone sweet. While the rest of the guys ascended the bus, I held back to wait in line. Five minutes later, I stepped into the main area of the bus where Faye was sitting back in her previous spot from earlier, The Hobbit perched in her lap again. Those hazel eyes glimmered when she glanced up at me and I swore all of the breath was stolen from my lungs. 

“What’s this?” She motioned to the single flower in my grasp. 

“Uh, Tulips. It reminded me of you,” my voice shook with nerves as I hastily handed the teal flower to her. 

She twirled it in her fingers while bringing it to her nose to smell it. 

“Thank you, Matthew. This was very sweet of you.” 

The smile that played on her lips was one of the most genuine ones I’d ever seen and it made that invisible string inside me vibrate with such a force, I nearly stumbled on my feet. 

“You’re welcome,” I gave her a small smile before making my way to the bunk area of the bus. 

Jolly had been leaning against the kitchen counter with a sly smile on his lips causing me to roll my eyes at him and grumble a few curses under my breath. I could continue to lie to myself and say that I didn’t think of Faye like that. But it was all a lie, everyone knew it. In the short amount of time she’d been a part of our crew, she managed to also become a part of me in a way that had me wondering how the hell that happened.

I thought Noah was crazy for spewing all that shit about soulmates but every time I watched Faye, I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was right. Because the feeling that stirred inside of me every time Faye and I were close to each other was unexplainable. 

Faye was her own mythological being in the sense that she captivated my interests the moment my eyes caught sight of her. The desperation to find out everything I could about her was heavy on my heart. I tried to tell myself that I would never work between us yet every passing moment in her presence told me otherwise. Her spirit was unlike any other. It held so much light, wonder, and magic.

Her name gave way to who she was as a person. 

Faye. 

My little fairy.

FAYE

“Faye, where are you?” 

Cursing at the voice that crackled through the radio, I adjusted the box of merch on my hip so I could answer Steven. 

“I’m grabbing the last box of shirts. Is the back door still propped open?” 

“Yep. But heads up, fans are starting to be let in so it’s already crowded at the merch table.”

“Great,” I grumbled under my breath before carrying the box from the truck back into the venue. 

It had been a very long day and the show hadn’t even started yet. I woke up late after not being able to sleep due to a rough drive from city to city. There had been some confusion on when we’d be allowed into the venue which caused Matt to go full thot blaster mode but even so, we weren’t allowed in until three this afternoon. The guys had to rush through a soundcheck while Steven had trouble setting up the merch table so I spent the last two hours helping him. We were rushing to get things set up in time before doors opened but it proved to be futile when I saw the crowds rushing inside. 

My mind had been held up by one recurring moment that happened earlier today; one that continued to make me blush. 

“Does this sound funky to you?” Folio asked while messing with his drum kit. 

Kooter shrugged. “I think it sounds fine, man. You might just be overthinking it.”

I was walking past the stage when Folio stopped me. “Faye, do the kick pedals sound off?”

With my urging, he messed around with the kick pedals of his drum set which in turn made me shrug. 

“I’m no professional like Kooter but it does sound fine to me.” 

A warm presence was felt behind me before a can dripping with condensation was held in front of my face. 

I peered a glance over my shoulder towards Matt, who shook the Celsius can in front of my face. 

“I figured you’d need this today,” he said. 

A large smile broke out on my face as I took the can, immediately popping it open. “Arctic Vibe? I’ve never had this flavor.” 

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “It reminded me of your hair.”

We stood like that, him behind me with me turning half of my body towards him. We were so close, I could feel the warmth radiate off of him in droves and when he reached a hand up towards my hair his actions were halted by Folio calling for him. 

“Matt! I need your opinion!”

He left my side with a soft brush of fingers against my hand.

I’d been hurriedly trying to get back inside with my mind full of Matt, I didn’t see the large curb causing me to stumble and drop the box of shirts all over the parking lot. I hissed when the stinging pain burned in my knee and noticed I ripped a large hole in my leggings. Blood oozed from the wound on and I pressed a hand to it trying to stop it. 

“Fuck,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep the tears from falling. 

“Faye?” 

Through the tears, I watched as Matt walked out of the venue, worry evident on his face. 

“What happened?” 

“I’m a fucking klutz and tripped,” I mumbled. 

He was quick to kneel in front of me, gently removing my hand to check out the damage to my knee and winced. 

“Come on,” his voice was gentle as his arms lifted me from the ground, carrying me bridal style over towards the tour bus on the other end of the lot. 

“The shirts!” I peered over his shoulder to the scattered pile of Bad Omens merch. 

Matt sighed before motioning to the radio strung over my chest so I pressed down the button. 

“Faye took a nasty fall in the parking lot while carrying the box of shirts. Can anyone scoop them up before someone finds them to sell them on Ebay?” 

I snickered at the distaste in Matt’s voice. 

“I’ve got it,” Noah’s voice came through the radio. “Does anyone need to scoop Faye up?” 

“Already handled,” I replied. 

A round of teasing ‘ooooo’s’ prompted Matt to shut off the radio as we reached the tour bus. All of the blood that wasn’t rushing to the hole in my knee was found warming my cheeks when I noticed how close our faces were to one another. I observed the lines next to his eyes, showing how exhausted he was. It was only one week into the tour and we still had two more to go. There were freckles lining the bridge of his nose that were really prominent when the sunlight casted over his face. He wore his hat backwards, allowing me to gaze into those dark eyes that seemed to go deeper than the ocean with their depths. 

“What?” He questioned, carrying me up the stairs of the bus. 

“No-nothing,” I breathed. 

For the last week I’d been telling myself not to fall for him. I wasn’t here for a relationship. I was here for work. I didn’t need to get distracted with the first pair of eyes that looked at me. 

Even if those eyes seemed to emit light whenever I caught them watching me; which was pretty often. 

Given the small space in the back area of the bus, Matt had to maneuver us so he was able to carry me into the bathroom. 

“I can walk,” I reminded him as he kicked open the bathroom door. 

Matt made a noise that sounded like I offended him while setting me down on the edge of the bathroom counter. The bathroom was the smallest part of the bus and with me sitting on the counter, Matt had to stand between my legs. Due to the slight height difference, I was the one staring down at him for once, only by an inch or two. 

My eyes tracked as his throat bobbed when he took a deep breath, spreading his hands on either side of me to rest on the edge of the counter. Our shared body heat wrapped around us in a makeshift cocoon, locking us in. 

“Does it hurt?” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“A bit, yeah,” I admitted with an even quieter voice than his. 

His eyes flicked down to my lips before slowly he kneeled in front of my injured knee to get a better look at it. 

“Well, I don’t think you need stitches but I should clean it to get a better look at it,” his gaze swept up to me. 

When I nodded, he rummaged underneath the sink between my legs to pull out the first aid kit. 

“How connected to these leggings are you?” 

My brows furrowed at his question. “Huh?” 

The round of fabric ripped echoed in the small confines of the bathroom and I gaped at Matt who managed to rip the leggings away from me, knee down. The entire action made something burn inside of me. The way the muscles in his arms flexed as he pulled the last bit of the material away from my leg. 

Fuck, why was that so hot? 

Maybe because you want him to do that to the rest of your clothes. 

“Please don’t kick me,” Matt said. 

“What-Fuck!” I bellowed when the sting of hydrogen peroxide seeped into my open wound. 

Out of a normal reaction, I jerked my leg only for Matt to wrap his strong arm around it, keeping locked against him. 

“I said please,” he exasperated while keeping his eyes on mine. 

“It fucking hurt!” I yelled. 

His jaw ticked. “I didn’t realize how much of a baby you were.” 

I scoffed in disbelief. “Has anyone told you how much of an ass you are sometimes?” 

The arm that wasn't holding onto my leg shrugged. “Yes, but not to the ones I care about.” 

I sat on his words for a moment, trying to understand if I heard him right. 

“Does that mean you care about me?” I finally voiced my curiosity. 

Matt tenderly brushed a cotton ball across the cut on my knee before his warm breath fanned across it causing me to shiver. 

“I’m squished in this small ass bathroom to take care of your knee, what do you think?” 

He gave his infamous Matt Dierkes smirk and I rolled my eyes playfully before watching him clean the wound on my knee then placing a small bandage over it. 

“Am I going to live, doctor?” I teased. 

Matt hummed deep, the sound vibrating in his chest as his fingers grazed up and down my exposed leg, the sensation sending shockwaves through my veins. He slowly rose to full height again, face now meters from mine, and I sucked in a breath when I felt his warm breath fan over my lips. 

“I think,” his hand ghosted over my hip. “I think you might need another check up later. Just to make sure.”

My cheeks burned and I cast my eyes down to my hands that were in my lap, unable to meet his intense gaze. 

“Fairy.”

Calloused fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to lock eyes with him, and I scrunched up my nose when I realized what he had called me. 

“What did you say?” My voice croaked out. 

Matt’s cheeks were warm to the touch as my finger grazed over those defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered shut with every tender stroke against his smooth skin and he let out a content sigh. 

“Fairy,” he repeated and it made my stomach flip three times over. 

He traced over the fairy tattoos on my arm, following the intricate designs of the flowers, and I leaned in closer to his touch. It managed to awake something inside of me that I never knew lay dormant. It was as if a flame slowly ignited with each passing touch or stolen glance and now that Matt’s lips were so close to mine, an outburst of something I wasn’t quite ready to understand was moments away from happening. 

“No one’s ever called me that before,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“Do you like it?”

I swallowed thickly while tracing my nail over the slight pout of his bottom lip. “I do.”

The noise that erupted from Matt’s throat was almost sinful and I felt something twinge inside of me. 

“Good, because it stays. Fairy.”

Dark eyes weighed heavy on my awaiting lips as hands held onto my thighs, spreading my legs further apart for Matt to step into. I hesitantly reached for his shirt, the material clinging to my fingertips. The magnetic pull that was always felt between us was stronger now. My soul was practically reaching for his, desperate for a connection it had been looking for ever since I was born. 

I never was one to believe in soulmates growing up but my father was certain that mine was out there because he had found his in my mother. Yet with the way my soul felt alive inside of me, I couldn’t help but think that maybe my father was right. 

“Matthew,” I gasped when his lips ever so gently brushed along mine. 

“Fairy, I-.” 

“HOLY SHIT!” 

Both of us pushed away from each other at the shrill voice that seemed to bounce off the walls of the bathroom and when my eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a shocked look on her face. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Matt snapped while standing in front of me in a way to block me. 

The young female blinked a few times as her mouth mimicked a fish out of water. “I thought I’d catch Noah.” 

I could see the muscles in Matt’s back constricted as the rage began to build inside of him. Some fan had managed to get onto the bus with hopes of catching Noah doing something. 

Fucking unbelievable.

“Ash, we’ve got an issue on the tour bus. We could use you over here,” I spoke into my radio after turning it back on. 

“Everything alright?” Ash’s voice came through. 

Matt ripped the radio from my hand. “We have a strangler on the bus.” 

“What the fuck? How did that happen?” 

Noah’s voice was filled with his own anger and agitation because he felt as if all of our personal space was tainted by some fan that couldn’t respect our boundaries. 

A look of guilt crossed Matt’s features which gave me pause on why he felt that way. We weren't doing anything wrong. It wasn’t our fault a fan snuck up on the bus. 

Soon, thunderous steps echoed in the bus and I quickly hopped off the counter and shield myself behind Matt even more. The fan’s head whipped wildly from us to now Ash who arrived with another security guard and Noah in tow. 

“I just wanted a picture with Noah!” She bellowed while throwing her hands up. “I didn’t expect to see these two kissing!” 

All the blood drained from my face when I realized that she must have been standing there for longer than we thought. 

“We weren’t kissing, I was bandaging up her knee,” Matt said while clenching his fists at his side. 

My eyes snapped up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and quietly scoffed at his words. Technically we didn’t kiss but for him to act like it almost didn’t happen made my stomach drop. 

While Ash and the other guard escorted the girl off of the bus and most likely off the grounds in general, Noah’s eyes narrowed at us. 

“How long was she in here for?” He asked with his hands on his hips. 

Matt ran a hand over his face. “Man, I don’t know. I was in here helping Faye when that chick popped up out of nowhere.” 

“Faye?” Noah’s voice softened when he took one glance at the way my lips turned down in a low scowl. “Everything alright?” 

“Fine,” I blew out a shaky breath and brushed past Matt out of the bathroom. 

“Fairy.”

Stopping momentarily in the tight space of the hallway, I glanced back at Matt and gave him my best forced smile “I’m good. I’m going to change my pants and then I’ll meet you guys inside.” 

NOAH

I followed Matt closely as we stepped off the bus to give Faye some privacy and when we were out of earshot, I pulled him to a stop. 

“You kissed her?” I asked. 

He sighed while taking off his hat to shake out his hair. “No, well almost. I probably would have if that fan hadn’t snuck up on the bus. Which, I don’t even know how they did. If I wasn’t so distracted with Faye maybe-.” 

I cut him off by grabbing his shoulders. “Matt, that wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, this shit happens.” 

“This could have been much worse,” he said, anger still heavy in his voice. “I should go help Ash deal with that. Be a manager and not some dude distracted by some crush.”

“Why do you keep trying to tell yourself that this is only some crush? It’s clear both of you have feelings for each other. Just admit it to each other.” I said. 

Matt hesitated for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I can’t admit something knowing that in the end, it won’t work out. I’m her boss. That’s all I can be.” 

I furrowed my brows. “You don’t know that things won’t work out.” 

Before Matt could respond, Faye stepped out of the bus with her camera clutched around her neck and paid no mind to either of us as she scurried inside the venue; his eyes never leaving her. 

“Is this because of your own fears that you’re keeping yourself from something that could potentially make you happy?” I wondered. 

He snorted before placing his hat back on. “You see a shrink once a week and now you think you’re some great philosopher.” 

Playfully pushing him, we began to walk back towards the venue step in step. “She knows a thing or two about relationships. Why do you think mine is flourishing right now?” 

Once inside, we took the back hallway towards the greenroom where everyone had been hanging out. Matt’s eyes immediately found Faye who was sitting on the couch setting up her camera for tonight. The way he watched her so intently brought a small smile to my face because it was something I would do. He could tell himself a thousand times over that this relationship wouldn't work because he’s her boss but with that gillmer of light that shined in his eyes whenever he watched Faye, we all knew those words meant nothing. 

“Don’t rid yourself of happiness, Matt,” I squeezed my best friend's shoulder. “You deserve it.” 

All he did was hum, still keeping his eyes trained on Faye. 

FAYE

The crowd was electric tonight, feeding off the energy Bad Omens radiated from the stage. It put a big pep in my step as I found myself bobbing my head along to the music while snapping countless pictures of them. It helped keep my mind off of the almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom but now that I had decided to let Byran work the main stage and saunter over towards the sound deck, all I could think about was Matt. 

How close he was to me in the small space. 

How warm his body felt against mine and the way he grasped onto me like I would slip through his fingers. 

I wanted to know how he tasted, how his lips felt as they moved against mine. 

At first, I was upset when he brushed off the almost kiss but the more I thought about it, I realized that maybe it was better he did. We both got lost in the haze that we nearly cost Bad Omens a lot with that fan sneaking up on the bus. So I told myself that I needed to focus on my job which is what I originally was here for. 

The second I stepped into the sound desk, Matt’s eyes quickly found mine from underneath the rim of his hat. It was the intermission part of the show so Matt had been typing away on his phone but when he saw me, quickly he pocketed it. 

“Hi,” he said over the music and noise from the crowd. 

I swallowed thickly. “Hi.”

He shifted in his spot. “How’s your knee?” 

“Hurts like a bitch but I’ll live,” I shrugged while holding onto my camera.

Silence for a long beat before Matt motioned to the stage. 

“How’s it going up there?” 

“Good,” I nodded while taking a step towards him. “Everything sounds great. But I wanted to get a look at the visuals from here if that’s alright?

He extended a hand next to him. “You don’t have to ask, Faye.”

Slinking up next to him, I sucked in a breath when the familiar feeling of Matt encased around me. It pulled me further and further down the abyss that was him and no matter how hard I tried to crawl my way out, I knew it was futile. My heart desperately wanted to be here. 

Neither of us said anything, Matt clicking away on his laptop and me quickly checking my emails. I’d been waiting on an important one the last few days and the anxiety of not knowing if I got the job or not was making it hard to focus on other things. 

Besides Matt. 

I knew this job with Bad Omens was temporary but being on the road with them made me realize that I thrived in this life and I wanted more of it. 

“Everything alright?” Matt asked when he saw my shoulders fall. 

Shoving my pocket into the back pocket of my jeans, I gave a half shrug. “I applied to be a full time photographer for a band but haven’t heard anything yet.” 

“What band?” 

“Hollow Souls. I saw them for the first time on tour with nothing,nowhere and knew I wanted to work with them. Y/N’s energy on stage is insane. I got great shots of her I wish she could have seen,” I said with a sigh. 

The smile that spread out on Matt’s face made my heart flutter but he said nothing, simply moved around me to click a few things on the sound board when he realized it was the end of the intermission.

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

“Do you want to start the intro for Bad Decisions?” He smirked. 

My eyes doubled. “What? I don’t know how.” 

Matt pointed to something on his laptop then I felt his warm breath against my ear when he moved closer to me. 

“Click it in three,” his fingers trailed down my spine

My own fingers shook as it hovered over the buttons. 

“Two,” he now slipped behind me. 

His broad chest pressed right up against my back and I could feel his cock against the swell of my ass. I bit my lip when one of his hands slipped underneath my sweater, grazing over my heated skin. 

“One,” his hands now rested on both sides of me, gripping the ends of his sound desk to lock me in.

With a gleeful smile, I clicked on Bad Decisions, the intro starting along with the visuals on the screens. 

“Good job,” he mused in the crook of my neck. “If photography doesn't work out, you could always be my assistant.” 

Ignoring the way my stomach flipped at his praise, I slowly turned in his embrace and smiled up at him while taking his hat, and putting it on. “In your dreams.” 

With a fit of giggles, I slipped out from underneath his arms and only for him to wrap an arm around my midsection, pulling me back into his chest. 

“I need my hat, fairy,” he breathed against my neck. 

Turning my head towards him, I let my words linger over his lips before sneaking away from the sound desk, still wearing his hat. 

“You’ll have to catch me, first.”

Y/N(Angel)

Taking a sip from my coffee, I clicked away at my laptop while the hustle and bustle of the cafe behind me fell acted as a white noise while I worked. I’d been busy searching through a list of potential candidates for Hollow Souls new photographer. After Lana did our new promo shots, I still felt guilty for taking her away from her main job with the guys, so Malcolm, Chase, and I decided that we would need our own full time photographer. 

“How’s it going?” Astrid asked while setting a plate of chocolate mochis in front of me. 

I groaned. “Not that great. I thought they’d be at least one but so far, a whole lot of nothing.” 

Giving me a somber smile, she went back to working the register as my phone buzzed on the counter next to me. 

Matt: I need to ask you something. 

Raising a brow, I put my work on hold for a moment to respond to him. 

Me: I am at your service. 

Me: Also, isn’t BO on stage right now? Shouldn’t you be working?

Matt: Intermission.

Matt: How did you know Noah was the one you wanted?

“That’s a loaded question,” I muttered to myself before replying. 

Me: It wasn't really a moment. More so a feeling. It’s when my heart felt empty when he was gone but when he was around, it felt full. Cliche, I know. But that’s the only way to describe it. 

Me: Does this have something to do with a certain blue haired photographer?

Matt: Noah told you? 🙄

I giggled at his choice of emoji.

Me: Mochi tells me everything.

Me: Don’t tell him I said his nickname to you. He still likes to pretend no one knows. 

Matt: I’m going to get back at him, I swear. He thinks he’s some sort of philosopher now talking about how I shouldn’t rid myself of happiness because of my own fears.

“That does sound like him,” I smiled while taking a sip of my now cold coffee. 

Me: He’s right, you know. You do deserve happiness, Matt. I haven’t seen you two together but from what I hear, it seems like both of you are smitten for each other. 

Matt: She was reading The Hobbit, Y/N! Out of all the books she could be reading, why that one? 

Matt: And her smile? Fuck, it pierces my heart every time. 

Matt: Don’t even get me started on her laugh. The way the skin next to her eyes crinkle when she laughs. I want to be the one that gets to hear that every day.

I smiled at how he was talking about her, knowing the exact feeling he was going through. I’d felt it with Noah many times before. 

Me: Tell her that. Don’t let Boss Matt get in the way of the happiness you deserve. 

Matt: That’s the thing, I am her boss. I don’t think it’s a good idea if I get involved with her. We still have two weeks left on tour. What if something goes sour and it doesn’t work out? I can’t risk that.  

Matt: Fuck, she’s here. I have to

I waited for another text to come through after the unfinished one but after a moment, I realized he must have got caught up with something so switching from his texting thread to Noah’s, I typed out a message I knew he would see later when he was off stage. Yet I paused at the unread text from Noah that I must have missed earlier. 

Mochi 🍡: 10 more days and you’re finally going to be sleeping next to me. I miss you so much angel. I’m never going to let you go. 

With heat creeping to my cheeks, I broke out in a huge smile knowing that soon I’d be joining them for the rest of their tour. 

Me: Matt is sooooo smitten with Faye.

Me: Also, facetime me later when you’re back on the bus. I want to see your mochi face. 🍡🍡

About twenty minutes later, after Malcolm and Chase joined me at Fika, we were about to give up on our search for a photographer when Matt’s new text changed our minds. 

Matt: Answer Faye’s email. She sent in her application and resume. 

I raised a brow before telling Chase to search up Faye’s name in my inbox. 

“It went to spam,” he said while showing me the email that had a pretty lengthy resume attached. 

Malcolm read it over my shoulder. “Is this the girl filling in for Lana right now?” 

“Yeah. She seems to have Matt pretty smitten,” I said while working out a reply email. 

“Matt Dierkes? Smitten?” Chase chuckled while leaning farther back into his chair. “I find that hard to believe.”

After hitting send on the email, I quickly sent a text to Matt. 

Me: I hope you know that your input had nothing to do with this.

Matt: She deserves this more than anyone.

FAYE

I sat on the edge of the stage, legs swinging in the air, as I clicked through all of the photos I took tonight. I paused on one that made my heart beat unevenly in my chest. 

Matt in the sound deck after I’d taken his hat. His hair was unruly but his eyes were transfixed on his equipment as he worked. There was a sense of peace on the soft features of his face as he did something that he loved. 

Ruckus voices carried from the open side door of the venue where everyone had been loading up the trucks but I paid them no mind, still clicking through my pictures. 

“I like it when I tickle the cervix,” Jolly chuckled. 

My eyes snapped up from underneath the hat and glanced over to the group of guys intime to see Noah eat a tomato whole causing me to grimace. 

Matt snickered. “I’d like to nut in her hard.” 

I titled my head at the guys as they continued to laugh at their obvious talks about sex. But when those dark eyes landed on me, Matt’s shoulders stiffened. 

“Shit,” Nicholas cursed. “Sorry Faye. We sometimes forget that it’s not just a big group of guys working.”

I waved them off, knowing that their sex talk didn’t bother me. Although, Matt’s statement made my face grow a deep crimson. 

“I’m more so stuck on the fact that Noah just raw dogged a tomato like that,” I admitted with a shiver. 

He shrugged. “I fucking love tomatoes.” 

While the rest of them finished taking out the last bit of equipment, Matt came to sit next to me at the end of the stage. Both of our legs swayed together, every so often our feet would knock into each other. 

“Have you checked your email recently?” He asked. 

“No,” I sighed while setting my camera off to the side. “I’m starting to think that they might have passed on me.” 

Matt bumped his shoulder with mine before throwing his hair into a low bun. “Maybe you should check it again.” 

“Why? So my heart can break even more?” I semi-joked while pulling out my phone but froze when I read the new email. 

Dear Faye, 

First off I’d like to apologize for how long it took us to respond. For some reason your application went to our spam folder. Chase, Malcolm, and I would love it for you to officially join our team! If you accept, we’ll send over the necessary documents for you to sign and we can get you started as soon as you return from your contract with Bad Omens. 

Talk soon! 

Hollow Souls

“Oh shit!” I exclaimed while nearly dropping my phone. “I got the job!” 

Before I could register exactly what happened, I found myself jumping onto Matt who fell back against the old wood of the stage. His hands rested on my hips keeping me in place while I gazed down at him, my legs locking him in on both sides. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as those eyes drank in the sight of me straddling him. 

“Fairy,” he lifted his chin up towards me. 

Thoughts of our almost kiss in the tour bus bathroom crept into the forefront of my mind and all I wanted was to finally feel those lips on mine. Days of constant flirting and stolen glances led up to this moment yet I hesitated with fear of making the first move. His eyes flicked down to my awaiting lips; a silent question. 

“Please,” I whimpered. 

Strong hands gripped the back of my head, knocking off his hat that I still wore, and forced me to those lips I’d been craving and when we finally collided it was as if the stars exploded in the sky. Goosebumps rose to my skin and when Matt’s tongue glided over my bottom lip, wanting entrance into my mouth, I accepted with a moan. Our lips molded together perfectly, almost as if we were made for one another. Our souls connected in a tangle of webs, our desire growing stronger and stronger as our tongues fought for dominance. I linked my hands with Matt’s, locking them above his head and I rutted my hips deeper into his, brushing my clit against the hardness of his cock. He groaned into my mouth while trying to free his hands from my grip. I nipped at his bottom lip before devouring them again, reveling in the lingering taste of his drink from earlier. 

“Matthew,” I keened against his lips.

Finally he was able to break free from my grasp on his wrists and he slid up a hand underneath my shirt. Fingers grazing at the bottom of my bralette, playing with the lacey material. 

A clearing of a throat caused me to scramble off of his lap, fixing my shirt in the process. Matt swiftly sat up while not so discreetly fixing himself and when our eyes locked in on the promoter of the venue, I heard Matt mutter something under his breath before rising to his feet, placing the hat back on his head. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Jason, the prompter, asked with a clear look of annoyance on his face. 

“No. I apologize for that,” Matt didn’t bother to look in my direction.

Jason made a noise in the back of his throat. “Well, if you’re finished with that. I’m ready to close out the final bill.” 

“I'll meet you in your office,” Matt said with a thick voice, hands resting in his pockets. 

Jason flicked his eyes over towards me as I sat on the edge of the stage yet again, hiding my burning embarrassment behind my hair. His footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the venue and when he was gone, Matt let out a long groan while running a hand over his face. 

“Faye,” his voice was stern. “That was completely unprofessional.” 

My head snapped over towards him, rage consuming me. “You’re equally to blame, Matthew. You didn’t stop it. All day you’ve been teasing me so don’t act like this was my fault.” 

Even though his eyes softened, the tone in his voice didn’t. “I know I’m also to blame. But that can’t happen again. I’m your boss.” 

Doing my best to keep the burning tears at bay, I snatched my camera and jumped off the stage. “Whatever you say, boss.”

The rage was still all consuming as I stepped outside, the chilly night air brushing against my heated skin, and when Noah took in sight of my agitated state, he gently stopped me from stomping into the bus. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

I let out a staggered breath, feeling those damn tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Noah’s brows furrowed from underneath the hood of his Hereditary sweater. “Are you sure? You came barreling out of that door like you were on a mission to chew someone's head off.”

For a moment, I stood silent as I tried to gather my thoughts on everything that happened the last ten minutes. Me checking my email on Matt’s request, to find out I got the job with Hollow Souls, and then our kiss that was abruptly interrupted by the promoter. But something stood out among the rest, causing me to purse my lips. 

“How did Hollow Souls know I’m on tour with you? I never made it public knowledge,” I asked Noah. 

He blinked, almost taken aback by my words. “What about Hollow Souls?” 

I then divulged on how I applied to be their full time photographer and how I ended up getting the job. 

“Oh,” Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Y/N’s my girlfriend.”

My jaw went slack at the sudden revelation, all of the pieces slowly clicking into place. 

“Did you make her give me the job?” I asked. 

“I promise you, Faye, I haven’t talked to her about it. I didn’t even know you were applying to be their photographer,” Noah assured me with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder. 

“Who else would have told them,” I muttered to myself. 

Suddenly the back door of the venue opened and Matt walked out with furry eyes. 

“That stunt nearly lost us the contract here for future gigs,” he sneered. 

I blinked at him, taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor. He was even angrier than before. 

“That stunt?” I scoffed. “You mean our kiss?” 

Noah’s head whipped between us and Jolly, who had been loading up the production truck, froze at my words. 

“What we did was completely unprofessional, Faye. I had to talk down the prompter not to black list us from here,” Matt threw a hand back towards the venue. 

“Did you tell Hollow Souls to give me the job?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

He blinked as his lips parted to speak, only to be met with silence; the silence that gave me my answer. Every high I felt from not only getting my dream job but the kiss we shared evaporated to the concrete beneath my feet. But I refused to let anyone see how defeated I was so I held my head up high with slits for eyes as I zoned in on Matt. 

“I sincerely apologize for my unprofessional actions that involved you. I can assure you that it won’t happen again.” 

Not bothering to hear another word from him, I brushed past Matt onto the bus.

MATT

A slew of grumbled curses fell from my lips as I clicked away at my laptop with an aggressive finger. Exhaustion had been weighing heavy on my shoulders causing dark circles under my eyes which made my friends worry. I assured them with a grunt that I was fine but everyone knew that was bullshit. Today, however, no one dared speak to me because they knew I was minutes away from saying something I knew I shouldn’t. 

It had been a day of constant fuck ups. First, we were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, nearly missing our call time at the venue. Then while setting up our equipment, one of the techs nearly dropped Jolly’s guitar to the ground, almost breaking it. I’d never seen Jolly that shade of crimson as he did it best not to snap at the poor tech. More recently, I’d spent the last ten minutes trying to find the mix for Nowhere To Go on my system but it was as if it was wiped clean from my hard drive. 

Yet the worst part of this shitty day? Faye hadn’t spoken one word to me in over forty eight hours. Guilt ate away at me for how I acted in regards to the kiss. It was one of the best ones I had and I couldn’t stop thinking about how her body felt on top of mine, those lips nipping and pulling at mine. She tasted sweet like honey and I found myself becoming addicted to Faye, desperate for another hit. 

But it was unprofessional where we did it. It should have been in the private confines of a secluded room or our bus. We nearly lost a big contract with the previous promoter and with a lot of sweet talking for next time we played there, I was able to smooth things over. 

Which is why I meant what I told Faye. I was her boss and we needed to remain professional. We couldn’t allow our growing desires for each other cloud what was right. 

So you’re saying your feelings for her aren't right? 

Muttering away the thoughts, I leaned farther back into my chair in the green room with my laptop still perched on my lap desperately trying to find where the fuck that track went. The room was filled with crew members who were taking their breaks from setting up. We should have been sound checking but because of the missing track, we were hours behind schedule. The constant chatter from everyone in the room however sounded like nails on a chalkboard so with a snap of my laptop, I tucked it under my arm and stormed out of the green room. I needed to find somewhere quiet to work. 

Stepping out into the bright sun, I tucked my hat farther over my eyes but halted when a strained laugh caught my attention. I set down my laptop on one of the tables in the outdoor catering area just in time to see Faye talking with the guitar players of the opening band that had been supporting Bad Omens. 

Tyler.

“So tomorrow is an off day,” Tyler mentioned while taking a small step towards Faye. “Do you have any plans?” 

I watched as Faye shifted on her feet, playing with the ends of her teal hair. She had it down this afternoon, it blowing with the tender breeze that brought a chill to my bones even though I was dressed in a hoodie and joggers. 

That or the fact that Tyler was standing too close to her. 

Those bright eyes I found myself drowning in began to roam around her surroundings, as if she was looking for something. Or someone. When they landed on me, I would have missed the way she took a small intake of breath if I hadn’t already been watching her. 

“Yeah, I do,” she said, never taking her eyes off of me. “I still have to work.”

Tyler took a step towards Faye, reaching for the hand that was gripping her hair. 

“Cancel them. I’ve got this great thing planned for both of us.” 

Suddenly forgetting the issues with the set, I stalked towards them head-on. My eyes narrowed at Tyler, anger festering low in my gut when I noticed he still hadn’t removed his fingers from her wrist. 

“I’m not going to cancel my plans. That would be rude of me,” Faye’s soft voice eased away the anger slightly within me. 

When she tried to step away from Tyler, his grip around her wrist tightened causing her to squirm in his grasp. 

“Just make up an excuse. You’re sick. I’m sure whoever you have plans with would understand.”  

Faye’s eyes dropped to the grip around her just as I reached them, hands balled up to fists at my side. 

“Tyler, you’re nice-,” she started. 

Tyler rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Come on, Faye. Just one night. We can fuck then go our separate ways.” 

The shocked and disgusted expression that covered her beautiful features when Tyler pressed a kiss to her cheek was the tipping point. It was a list of things the last few days since we kissed. Faye ignoring me, not being able to find the missing track, not having my daily Celsius drink, and now seeing this asshole pressuring Faye; I was ready to combust. 

“Faye,” my voice was tight, along with the grip around the wire of my radio as it hung around me. “Are you alright?” 

Tyler’s gaze bounced between the both of us as I stood next to her. “We were talking, Matt.” 

I threw my shoulders back, puffing my chest. “Really? Because it sounded like you were forcing her into something she didn’t want.” 

Faye finally removed herself from Tyler’s grasp and slipped behind me. “We’re done here.” 

Tyler’s eyes bounced between Faye and me, assessing the situation until a smug smile curled his lips. 

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?” 

My heart damn near jumped in my throat when I heard Faye’s soft intake of breath.

FAYE

“Oh so that’s it, you two are fucking?” 

Tyler pointed between Matt and I, causing my breath to get caught in my throat as my head snapped over towards Matt, who continued to stand toe to toe with Tyler. I nearly stumbled when my heart dropped to my stomach while I awaited Matt’s answer. 

There had been a crowd gathering and when I took sight of Noah’s face as he stepped down from the bus, I knew that whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good.

Shit.

“Faye is a coworker of mine. I saw she was uncomfortable because of you so I stepped in. That’s all,” Matt shrugged. 

I swallowed the burn of tears as I cast my head down at the camera in my hands. There were plans tonight to live stream Bad Omens concert and since it was a special occasion, I brought out my special camera for this; my fathers old one.

Tyler’s next words made the air shift around us as I glanced up in time to see Matt’s jaw tick. 

“Damn, her pussy is that bad, huh?”

Everything happened all too quickly, almost like a blur of shouted curses and flying fists. Noah and Bryan stepped forward as Matt shoved Tyler causing me to stumble over my feet, dropping my camera to the concrete with me. I landed on my ass, scrapping my palms as I threw my hands down to support my fall. 

Matt’s fist landed on Tyler’s jaw right before Jolly yanked him away but that didn’t stop him from yelling at Tyler. 

“I didn’t start this but I damn sure finished it, fucker!” He bellowed. 

Jolly gave Matt his own shove before running a hand through his hair. “Fucking stop! Look what you did!” 

Following Jolly’s finger, Matt gasped when he saw me lying on the ground, holding a broken camera in my bloody and shaking hands. Bryan was kneeling next to me, slowly helping me to my feet as the tears I fought so hard to keep back began flowing down my cheeks. My fathers old camera sat in crumbled pieces within my hands, irreplaceable and unfixable. 

“Fairy,” Matt’s voice was soft as he reached for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I seethed while yanking my arm away from him. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think of me.”

“Faye,” his voice was louder now as he called after me, watching me scurry into the bus to hide from all those pitiful gazes that lingered. 

BRYAN

With a frown, I watched as Faye nearly stumbled up into the bus due to the tears clouding her eyes and I swiftly turned on my feet towards Matt, who was being held back from Tyler by Noah and Jolly. Both of the Nicks were trying to deescalate the situation with the promoter of the venue that was threatening to cancel the show tonight due to the unnecessary violence. Everything had become so fucked in a matter of seconds with Tyler’s words and now, the anger Matt felt for the situation was directed back onto him. 

“Dude, stop!” I snapped while stepping between Matt and Tyler but keeping my eyes directly on the former. “Did you not realize what you just did?” 

Matt’s jaw was rigid with his anger but he eventually looked my way. 

“You two caused Faye to fall down to the fucking ground. Her hands are cut up pretty good but that doesn't matter because something that’s irreplaceable broke. All because of you two fucking idiots.” 

I wasn’t the one to curse this much but the second I saw the camera fall to the ground, immediately I felt the pain that stabbed Faye in the chest. 

Matt opened his mouth to protest but I held up a hand to stop him. “You claim you need to be the manager, well fucking act like it. You created a scene, fix it!”

Not bothering to stick around for a rebuttal, I ran over to the bus and bounded up the steps just in time to see Faye dotting her blotchy cheeks with a tissue. 

“Faye?” I said quietly. “Do you need anything?” 

She choked on a sob while forcing a shaking hand towards the mess of broken camera pieces on the table. 

“I need my fathers camera back! Do you know how old it is? What I had to do to make sure it was usable? Everything, all the pictures and memories gone because of-of,” she choked on another sob so I pulled her into my embrace.

“I know,” I hushed her with a soothing circle against her back. “Matt never meant for it to go that far. He feels like shit, although he might not show it right now. But he cares.” 

“Right,” she scoffed while pulling from my embrace. “He has a funny way of showing it.” 

I gave her a small smile. “Matt is closed off with a lot of people which makes them get the wrong impression of him. But with the people he cares about, he’d protect them. Which is what he was trying to do with Tyler but I think his feelings for you blinded him on what was the correct way to approach that.”

Faye stayed silent for a moment, letting my words digest, before she gave a small nod. I knew it wouldn’t change the issues plaguing them. That was something they needed to work out themselves but even if my words helped a bit, that’s all I could do. 

“Come on,” I motioned towards the broken camera. “Let’s see what we can do.”

MATT

My soul was calling out into the void, searching for the connection it once had and desperate to have it again. It felt like everything had been drained from me the last couple of days no matter how hard I tried to fix things. I spent countless hours looking for that specific camera to replace it for Faye. I knew it wouldn’t replace the sentimental value and all the memories it held but maybe it could ease the pain that swam in her heart. 

The fight with Tyler happened days ago and after we both apologized to Faye, she seemed to slip into herself. That usual brightness of her soul dimmed as she went about working, never once interacting with any of us. We had four days left of tour and she mentioned to Bryan in passing that she couldn’t wait for the last day because that meant new opportunities. 

With Hollow Souls. 

Y/N had reached out to assure Faye that they hired her because of her resume not because we all knew each other. That seemed to ease away some of her worries and I could tell she was excited to start working for them. 

But my heart and soul weren’t ready to let her go quite yet. 

After closing down the sound deck, another successful show in the books, I racked my brain with ideas on how to make things up to Faye when an airy giggle reached my ears. 

“We should definitely meet up once the tour ends,” Faye smiled warmly at Greg, the drum tech for Before We Fall. “It will be good for us.”

Greg agreed with a side hug, wrapping his arms around Faye. “I’ll text you once things slow down and we can meet up.” 

“Can’t wait!” She beamed that smile I found myself falling deeper and deeper for. 

When Greg and Faye went their separate ways, the familiar jealousy rage I felt when I saw her talking with Tyler festered inside of me, spreading through my veins, yet this time I took a different approach than violence. I followed on Faye’s heels as she exited the venue and ascended up the dark bus. Everyone else was still inside helping with the tear down. 

“Faye,” I breathed her name, causing her to turn swiftly on her heels. 

In the lowlight of the lamp posts outside that casted into the bus, she looked mythological. Her white sundress shimmered and the waves of her teal hair cascaded down her back. The last few days I’ve spent any alone time I could find locked in the bathroom with my hand wrapped around my cock, the image of her on top of me playing like a loop in my brain. 

My little fairy.

“Did you need something, Mathew?” She asked with a business-like edge to her voice. 

The vision of her in that light with her hands perched on her hips while she cocked one out, full of attitude, made my cock twitch and not bother to think of the repercussions, I pressed her up against the door of the bathroom. 

“What are you-?” 

I captured her lips in a kiss that was fueled by so much fervor, it made my head spin. It was only our second kiss but just like the first, our souls danced together in perfect harmony when the magnetic pull between us vibrated. Faye’s body went stiff in my embrace but soon with a rush of air, her hands sneaked up underneath my shirt to scratch at the skin of my back undoubtedly leaving half crescent shaped moons as she dug into me. 

Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against my own. I could feel the velvet tickle of her breath beneath my nose when my fingers threaded through those vibrant strands of hair. 

An unfamiliar feeling blossomed in my chest, taking over every part of me, as my tongue left kitten kisses along her bottom lip. She began to pull away from me slightly only for me to yank her back in by my teeth. I wanted to plummet in everything that was Faye, letting her consume all of me every day. I could feel the thunderous beats of our hearts together as I pressed her harder against the door, my cock brushing ever so softly against her clit. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my shorts, doing whatever she could to pull me closer. It was a mess of a kiss, both of us dry humping against each other to grasp that euphoric high we were craving. 

Her palm pressed lightly over my cock causing me to yank on her hair, exposing more of her neck to me. My teeth grazed over the sensitive skin behind her ear and she shivered in my grip when my calloused hands lifted up the bottom of her dress, letting the material bunch up against her stomach. 

“My fairy,” I proclaimed into the crook of her neck, a single finger slipping underneath underneath the cotton fabric of her panties.  

Almost like magic, there was a wide space between us as she pushed me away, those perky breasts rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her lips were swollen, bruised from the force of our kiss, and I groaned at the sight of a faint red mark on her neck. One that I left. 

“This can’t happen!” Faye yelled while adjusting the bottom of her dress. “You’ve made it clear that you’re my boss and this-.”

She pointed between us. “Is unprofessional.”

“Fuck that,” I spat. “I don’t care about that anymore.” 

Faye wiped away the spit from her lips and sneered her distaste. “Why? Because you saw me talking with Greg and wanted to stake your claim on something that’s not yours?”

The words spewed from my mouth like vomit.

“Well, it seemed clear to me that you like it when anyone shows you attention. Does it give you a sick thrill? Turn you on?”

Faye blinked slowly while her lips parted. “Excuse me?”

“You were going to go out with that guy!” I threw a hand over my shoulder back towards the venue. “I bet you do get some sort of sick thrill from it. You string me along, fucking with my feelings, and now that I turned you down, you’re doing the same thing to other guys? You’re just like the rest of them, I don’t know why I thought you were different.”

Something glistened in her eyes and the breath she let out sounded so broken. But I was enraged with everything that’s happened the last week, all I saw was red. 

“That’s not fair. You don’t know anything,” she shook her head. 

“I don’t need to, Faye. I’ve seen enough and I’m glad I got out from under you when I did,” I roughly brushed past her, nearly turning back when I heard a broken sob fall from her lips.

Keep going. Don’t falter. That’s what she wants. 

Thunderous footsteps echoed behind me, slapping against the pavement as we stepped outside. Faye’s bright eyes filled with her own rage stared up at me as she stepped in front of me. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart? Greg is dating a friend of mine from back home. We were talking about meeting up all together,” she poked a finger in my chest. 

Yet I couldn’t apologize because she shoved another finger in my chest. “You’re an asshole! You think you’re mature because you’re older than me? You’re a manchild who can’t accept someone who cares for you. You’re one of the most self deprecated people I’ve ever met and this act you’ve got going isn’t working.”

Another poke to my chest and this one caused me to stumble slightly.

“You don’t get to push me away, call me unprofessional for something we both did, but then try to crawl your way back to me after what you did! Your jealousy broke something that I cannot replace. I’ll never forgive you for that.” 

I grasped her wrist when she went to poke my chest again and held it flush against me. “I’m sorry.”

Her face flinched, not expecting my apology, yet she continued on with her wrath. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix things! We have four days left of this tour, let's just ignore each other like we have been and we can finally forget everything that happened the second we part ways,” Faye ripped her hand from mine and stomped back towards the bus. 

I stood there in the middle of the alley behind the venue, trying to gather my bearings from our argument. Like everything with Faye, our shared moments together were a whirlwind and I never knew what to focus on first. 

The way her body molded into mine when we kissed. 

How pretty her moans sounded when I pressed my cock against her. 

How wet she was when I brushed my finger along her folds. 

How kissed fucked she looked after breaking us apart.

Or the way her fury vibrated off of her when she poked those pretty nails into my chest. 

Once again, I let the negativity of what could possibly be something so good for me ruin it before it had the chance to begin. Faye was all encompassing, she was what my soul had been missing since creation. It scoured the earth for hers and now that it was in my grasp, I refused to let her go.

NOAH

I’d been leaning against the old brick of the venue, getting ready to facetime Y/N when heated voices made me pocket my phone in time to see Faye storm after Matt, poking her finger in his chest. When Matt dragged his feet back to the bus in clear defeat, I knew that I needed to do something to fix whatever was broken between them.

“Mochi!” Y/N’s bright smile greeted me when she answered my facetime call. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too, angel,” I slowly paced the alley. 

“What’s going on? Why are you outside?” She asked while cuddling her couch pillow closer to her chest. 

I could see the luminescence of the television casting a glow of colors against the wall behind her. She’d been watching a movie when I called, the words echoing through my phone. 

"People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead."

“Are you watching The Crow again?” I teased with a playful smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes before telling Jesse to pause the movie which made my brows pull together. “Wait, are you at my house?” 

“Yeah. Jesse texted me earlier asking if I could come hang out. I guess Maxxine stood him up. Again,” she sighed. 

“I never liked her,” I grumbled with agitation. 

“She was my friend! How do you think I feel?” But then Y/N shifted on the couch. “Do you care that I’m here without you?” 

“Not at all, angel. You know you’re always welcome there even if I’m not. I’m glad you’re there for Jesse.” 

Just then a head full of curls appeared on the screen. “She’s making me watch this movie. I had no choice in the matter.”

“It’s a great fucking movie,” she ruffled his curls before playfully pushing him away. “Why the sour face, Mochi?” 

Sighing I sat on the bench in front of the venue now, gazing up at the stars. It was nearing midnight and thankfully all the fans from tonight's show had left, leaving me out here alone with my thoughts. 

“It’s Matt and Faye. They’re still fighting and all I want to do is help them,” I ran a hand over my tired face. 

Something Y/N noticed. 

“Noah,” her voice was as soft as her skin. “I know you love your friends and want to help them but sometimes, they need to be the ones to do it.”

I shrugged while playing with the string of my joggers with my free hand. “Maybe I can do something that pushes them in the right direction. Force them in a locked closet at the next venue to talk it out.”

Y/N snorted her laughter. “That never works. But I know what will work.”

With a pulled brow, I listened intently to her plan as she told me what I needed to do. 

“You’re sure this will work?” I asked while slowly walking towards the bus, exhaustion digging its claws into me. 

“Everyone loves a good “there was only one bed” trope. It’ll work,” she assured me with that smile I missed so much. 

“I can’t believe I’ll see you in two days, angel,” I said with a bit more excitement in my voice than before. 

Y/N cuddled the pillow closer to her chest. “I’m counting down the hours, mochi.”

FAYE

After leaving Noah in the hotel lobby while he waited for Y/N to arrive, I spun the keycard to my room between my fingers, ready for a full night's sleep in an actual bed. We arrived at the final stop on the tour and with tomorrow night being the last show, we were staying in a hotel for the next couple of nights. 

72 hours. 

That’s how long it had been since Matt and I spoken to each other. Since our blow up argument a few nights ago, I had chosen to sleep on the couch in the back room of the bus, not wanting to be anywhere near him. Even though my heart was hurting with the space between us. Ultimately I knew I needed this space from him because in two nights, I’d be flying back home alone and forgetting everything that happened. 

Well, trying to anyway.

With an yawn, I slipped the keycard into the slot of the door, the light flashing green. I took all of two steps inside before coming to a sudden halt at the sight before me. Two suitcases opened and scattered throughout and a long body stretched out wide on the bed in the room. 

The only bed in the room. 

Matt removed the pillow from his face to see me standing in the doorway, clutching the handle of my suitcase with white knuckles and he rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he grumbled while sitting up in bed. 

“What are you doing in my room?” I demanded. 

Matt scoffed. “Your room? I’ve been here for the last hour. You’re the one in my room.”

Neither of us broke eye contact, not wanting to lose, and I motioned to the keycard on the table next to him. 

“Who gave you your card?” 

“Noah,” he answered. 

Son of a bitch. 

“He set this up,” I muttered before turning on my heels, ready to march back down to the lobby to ask for another room when Matt’s voice made me freeze. 

“The hotel is booked. There’s no other rooms available.”

I threw my head back with an audible groan before slamming the door shut and forcing my suitcase into the closet of the room. I would have been fine with this rooming situation if there had been a couch but besides the bed, the only other place to sleep was an old, worn out chair in the corner of the room. 

It was almost nine in the evening and after the long day of travel, the only thing I wanted to do was shower and go to sleep. Noah mentioned plans about possibly going out for some food but the moment I saw Matt lounging on my bed, I wanted to take the pillow and suffocate him; mingling with others be damned. 

I didn’t even make it more than a single step towards the bathroom before my head snapped over to Matt when he spoke again. 

“I took all the hot water. Might want to wait a bit.”

It was then that I noticed he was shirtless in bed, wet strands of hair clinging to his chest; clearly fresh out of the shower. His shorts hung low on his hips and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the light colored happy trail underneath his belly button. This was the first time I’d seen him shirtless and I felt all the heat rush to between my legs. 

Focus!

“I’m sure you can bunk with Bryan or Nicholas. Although, they talk a lot and I know how much that irritates you,” Matt winked while propping an arm behind his head. 

“I fucking hate you,” I seethed before stomping over to the bed and ripping the part of the covers he wasn’t laying on back so I could slide into bed. 

Matt continued to wear that smug smile which made me glare at him. “What the fuck are you so smug about? Happy that I’m miserable and stuck in this room with you?”

“You’re so upset that you didn’t even realize you got into bed still wearing your shoes and jeans.” 

Grumbling every name under the sun at him, I scrambled out of bed to kick off my shoes and nearly ripped the skinny jeans away from my legs, leaving it a pile on the floor. I now stood in front of Matt in nothing but an oversized band tee that I hadn’t been wearing a bra under. It’s what I usually go to sleep in anyway. It reached about mid thigh now that my jeans were off. 

“Is this better, Matthew?” 

Those dark eyes trailed up my long legs, lingering on the swell of my ass before he nodded. 

“I’d be fine if you came to bed with nothing,” he shrugged. 

I squealed before wrenching a pillow off the bed and smacking him in the head with it. 

Not one. 

Not two times. 

But four times. 

Matt finally realized he’d been under attack so his arms reached out to wrap around my hips, dragging me to the bed with him. It was a fight for who would end up on top as I tried to continue with my onslaught of pillow attacks but his strength won in the end. Throwing the pillow across the room, he managed to pin me to the bed with his hips and used one large hand to pin both of mine above my head. 

His hair was a mess covering his face as those dark eyes stared daggers into me but I raised my chin up at him in defiance. 

“Are you finished with your tantrum?” His chest rumbled. 

“Fuck off!” I shot back while wiggling underneath him. 

My shirt had ridden up in our fight, resting just below my breasts and my bright yellow thong was on full display for Matt to drink in. But his eyes continued to rest on my face. 

More so, my lips. 

My pussy kept pressing against his clear erection causing him to bite back a moan and tighten his grip on my hands. 

“Stop it,” he bit out through gritted teeth. 

I didn’t. 

In fact, I pressed myself up closer to him, rubbing my clit against his cock. “Stop what? This? I thought you wanted this?” 

The teasing tone of my voice was thick which only angered Matt even more. 

“You look pathetic, trying so hard not to-.” 

My words were cut off by his mouth devouring mine in such a heated kiss, it nearly rendered me useless. I lay under him, motionless for a moment, as his mouth moved against mine. The feeling of his tongue against mine made me moan into his mouth, trying to get more of him; desperate for it. 

“YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE!” I kneed him in the gut once I realized what was going on and he fell to the other side of the bed, clutching his side. 

“REALLY? LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU LOVED IT WHEN MY LIPS WERE ON YOURS!” He shot back before reaching for me again, crashing our lips together. 

This had been weeks worth of build up, the sexual tension between us a tight rubber band ready to snap with any added extra weight. My brain kept screaming at me to push him off and smack him for what he did to me, breaking my fathers camera. 

Yet my soul was thriving. It never felt more alive knowing that Matt was once again staking his claim with his lips, nipping and sucking at the sensitive parts of my body; down my neck and over my collar bone after he yanked down the collar of my shirt. 

Calloused fingers brushed along the thin elastic of my panties, teasing me with his silent question. 

“Take them off,” I demand against his lips, raising my hips off the bed. 

Our clothes gathered together in a heap on the floor and while I lay bare for Matt’s hungry eyes, he remained kneeling on the bed. His cock was red with agitation, desperate for not only some sort of contact but release as well. 

“You’re beautiful, Fairy,” Matt mused while kissing from my navel, up between the valley of my breasts, and left small indentations with his teeth against my neck. 

I left angry red marks down the length of his spine while spreading my legs for him. His fingers gathered my wetness between my folds, pressing small circles against my clit and I sucked in a breath. 

“Already so wet for me? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he chuckled darkly before nipping at my bottom lip. 

I was not about to give Matt the satisfaction in knowing our little play fighting and making out turned me on beyond measure. My body was already on the brink of collapse from our weeks of constant teasing and bickering. I reveled in the way Matt came off rude and brooding, sometimes to me, but also found myself loving how caring and thoughtful he’d been in the beginning.

A finger slipped inside of me and I arched myself off the bed, my breasts brushing against Matt’s chest. 

“You like that?” He cocked his head to the side. “Use your words, fairy. I need to hear what you want.” 

I sunk my nails into his arm, trying to bring him closer. “You, Matthew. Please. I just want you.”

Begging? Really? There goes your dignity.

I didn’t have time to chastise the voice in my mind because Matt let out a growl before rolling me to my stomach and hiking my ass up in the air. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the small hotel room and a breathy moan fell from my lips. 

Matt cursed before leaning over the bed to reach for his suitcase. 

“What are you doing?” I almost whined. 

“Condom,” he muttered while rifling through his bag. “Shit! Of course the one time I don’t pack fucking condoms.”

I saw his eyes flick up to the wall in front of me, most likely to the room next door, and knew he was contemplating asking whoever was rooming next to us for a condom. 

“I have an implant,” I finally said while looking over my shoulder. “And I’m clean.” 

Those eyes shimmered as they rested on my face. “So am I.”

With his cock gripped tight in his hand, Matt lined up at my entrance before slowly pushing himself inside. My head went to fall to the pillows but his hand gathered the teal strands in his palm, yanking my head up. 

“Oh, god,” I moaned when he was fully inside. 

I’d never felt so full before. 

My walls clenched around him, a silent beg for him to move, but Matt remained still. His chest constricted with the breath he’d been holding so I slowly started fucking myself on his cock. 

“Matthew,” I panted. “Please, I need you to move.” 

With one tight grip on my hair and the other on my hip, he let out a strangled breath finally. 

“I won’t last long, fairy. I don’t-.” 

You assured him with a gentle smile. “I won't either. I’m already so close.” 

Knowing that I wouldn’t last long either, Matt let go of the grip on my hair to slide over to my clit, pressing fast circles against the swollen bundle of nerves. His pace was ruthless, fucking in and out of me with such force, the headboard began slamming against the wall. 

I was dizzy with my arousal, it clouding my judgment because I knew that this was only going to be a quick fuck and then we’d go back to bickering. Not accepting what both of us wanted. We could try to ignore how we felt about one another but there was no way I could ignore how perfect he felt inside of me. It was as if we clicked together like a perfect puzzle piece. 

Cliche. But it was true. 

Matt’s broad chest pressed against my back so he could drag his teeth against my spine. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck.” 

All I could do was nod, too blissed out on the way his fingers danced against my clit. My orgasm was so close, teetering on the edge of the cliff, and my body stilled for a moment as I tried to grasp that release. 

“No!” 

I whined when Matt pulled all the way out of me only for him to throw me onto my back and wrap a leg around his back, slipping back inside of me. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” he grunted while thrusting inside of me. 

I dared a peak down to where I bodies connected as he pulled himself almost all the way out and choked on a moan when I saw his cock glisten in the low light of the room because of our shared arousal. 

“Look at me, Faye.”

My eyes snapped up to his, blown wide with his euphoria and with one final snap of his hips, I cried out my orgasm; eyes never leaving his. 

I writhed underneath him but his fingers never stopped their onslaught on my clit, working me through the violent aftershocks. Matt threw his head back in a silent scream as his cock throbbed inside of me seconds before spilling his release.

His body fell to the bed next to me in a gruff of exhaustion and I lay there for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling; tracing the patterns of the cracks instead of the realization that I should get up to clean myself so I can find someone else to bunk with. 

As I began to slip out from underneath Matt, he threw his tattooed leg over my hips, blocking me from leaving the bed. 

“Where are you going?” He asked, pulling my back to his chest. 

Our skin was sticky with sweat and I felt our cum between my legs but with his grip on me, it was clear Matt didn’t want me to leave. 

“I just thought-,” I pointed to the door. 

He buried his face in my neck, leaving a tender kiss. “I’m not letting you go, Faye. This was never a quick fuck for me. I think this was weeks worth of pent up sexual frustration that turned into something we both wanted; even if we weren’t ready to admit it.” 

I traced over the tattoos on his arm as it lay lazily over my stomach. 

“Sounds like you’ve got a great therapist,” I hummed. 

Matt snorted. “More like a philosopher of a friend.”

We lay together in a mess of tangled limbs for a long moment, basking in the silence. Matt’s breathing became slow and steady, indicating he was seconds away from falling into a deep slumber, one I was desperate to chase. But I couldn’t stop the nagging thought in my mind. 

“So what does this mean for us?” I forced myself to ask. 

“This is a really shitty way of asking you out considering I broke your camera. But what do you say we go out on an official date once we're back home and settled?”

I linked my fingers with Matt’s, bringing his hand to my lips to leave a tender kiss across his knuckles. “I’d love that.”

The tight grip that had been crushing my heart and soul since we started fighting suddenly evaporated into nothing. All I could feel was growing adoration for the man behind me. 

Deep sleep was seconds away from clutching both of us to drag us into the dark depths but before I could succumb, my tired voice called out into the vastness of the room. 

“You owe me a camera, by the way.” 

Matt chuckled while laying a kiss to the side of my head. “Already taken care of, fairy.”

FAYE

“So, how’re things going with Jesse and Tay?” I called over to Matt, who stood in the kitchen in front of his stove. 

“Good!” He called back. “Although, I’m sure you already knew that since she’s your friend.” 

I shrugged, knowing he was right, but then gave him a smile of thanks when he returned into the living room with my cup of tea. 

“We were talking about getting together for a double date this weekend,” I said. 

Matt pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before settling back into the couch next to me. “Whatever you want, fairy.”

We’d been home for a few weeks now from tour and found ourselves settling in pretty quickly to this new relationship. Our first official date was the aquarium with everyone else but I didn’t mind it. I got to know Hollow Souls more and working for them had been an absolute dream. 

I was able to photograph Chase and Malcolms wedding. With the exact make and model of camera that mirrored the one my dad gave me. While it wasn't the exact one, I knew Matt had scoured the internet for days trying to find one so I was extremely grateful for it. 

We’d spent the entire day on Matt’s couch cuddled together under a pile of blankets, more specifically his Greys Anatomy blanket, with all three of his dogs either laying on top of us or next to us. The television had been on a constant rerun of Grey's Anatomy, him finally talking me into watching it with him. My fingers played with the ends of his hair, him opting out on wearing a hat today. I’d been wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of boyshort panites. It had been a pretty hot day in California so Matt decided on wearing just a pair of joggers. We would have been three episodes ahead in our marathon if we hadn’t continuously paused it for our extra activities.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. How is Y/N’s and Noah’s redo date going?” I set my empty cup down on the table in front of me. 

Matt snickered while reaching for his phone. “I haven’t heard anything yet. I’m starting to wonder if he backed out on asking-.” 

His voice trailed off as his eyes never left the bright screen of his phone. The words on the current text thread he had open drained all the color from his face. 

“Matthew,” I said tentatively, sitting up on the couch and running a hand over his back. “What is it?” 

He swallowed thickly before running a hand over his face and those broken eyes found mine. “Y/N’s dad died. Her and Noah are flying to Japan tomorrow night.”

[magicandmundane]

Me, doing a short hike: Man, this kinda sucks. I don’t really enjoy hik—you know what? If Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair can go running up Mount Tantiss in full armor, I can walk up a spicy hill with a water bottle.

*’Lockdown’ (from the soundtrack) intensifies*

[hugmekenobi]

Something New

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: You have a surprise that'll help you and Hunter take a break from the stress of planning your wedding

Warnings: No use of (Y/N), references to past poisoning, little bit of teasing, some self-doubt/self-consciousness, light swearing, Smut (lingerie wearing, kissing, marking/biting, non-explicit descriptions of slightly rougher sex with unprotected P in V, kissing, reader can be lifted), we have some light fluff and feelings too

<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)

Masterlist for S1,S2 and S3

Word Count: 2K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: We're back! Sorry it's been so long!! I have no excuse for this. It was just a little thing that my Hunter addled brain felt the need to include before the wedding oneshot and @decembermidnight very nicely encouraged me to do this so it happened. No pressure to read! Just needed to get it out my system before the next one lol

“Remind me again why I just spent 2 and a half hours listening to all the bands Pabu has to offer and you weren’t there?” Hunter called out tiredly but merrily enough by way of announcing his arrival back home. He loved the people here but some of them were not as talented as they thought they were, and his ears were not thanking him for his patient listening.

“Because we agreed that me reading all the wedding tradition research Tech and Omega keep sending me as well as spending a minimum of 3 hours a day getting poked and prodded by Lyra was equal to you handling the music, food and flowers.” You replied as you peeked your head round the refresher door.

“Hey, I read it too!” Hunter protested. He liked being involved in the process. It was new territory for both of you

“You read the summarised versions I put together, it’s the same as me helping you pick whatever band or flowers you’ve narrowed it down to.” You reminded him with a grin. “All about the teamwork, Sergeant.”

“Uh huh.” Hunter said with a fond roll of his eyes before he changed the subject. “Is there a reason you’re standing in there?” He asked as he casually passed by en-route to the bedroom.

“Don’t come in!” You yelped as you dashed behind the door.

“Why not?” Hunter asked but he obeyed your request and instead carried on to the bedroom.

“I have a surprise for you but now I’m chickening out.”

“Haven’t we had enough of those recently?” Hunter responded nervously. The horrible emotions and memories of your poisoning still lingered in his mind.

“This is a good surprise…” I hope. You added mentally as you stared at your reflection and worked on bringing back the confidence you’d felt ten minutes ago. “But I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh.” You requested, your voice loud enough so he could hear you.

“Why would I laugh?” He asked back, voice equally loud.

“I’m trying something new. We have been through a lot and I’m obviously not just talking about wedding planning stress, and I can only imagine the range of talent you heard today. So, I figured we need to unwind, wipe the slate clean. Hence, this surprise. But again, you cannot laugh, or I swear I’m walking outta here and all this wedding stuff comes to an end. You can marry Shep for all I care.” You threatened, obviously not meaning it but you needed him to understand that this was far out your comfort zone.

Hunter ignored your melodramatics, “What’s wrong with Shep?”

“Hunter!” You cried out through an exasperated laugh. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“I understand but I do think a surprise is ruined by an explanation.” He quipped back as he took off his light layer, draped it over the dresser chair, and rolled up his sleeves as he waited for whatever it is you were talking about.

“When you’re done being a smartass, will you just promise me that you’re not going to laugh?”

“Yes, of course I promise but would you just get out here? You’re not making any se-” You appeared and suddenly he forgot how to speak. He couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t process the gorgeous image in front of him, so he was left just standing there, gawping in pure awe.

You shifted awkwardly under his intense stare and brought your arms to cover yourself self-consciously. “I can take it off if-”

“Don’t you dare.” His voice was hoarse with longing. The dark red lace lingerie set that left little to the imagination suited you and your body perfectly, emphasising ever part of you in a way that drove him crazy with need. The fact that the colour matched that of his bandana did not escape him either.

You glanced up and that was when you sensed the want flowing through him. It was reflected carnally in his eyes. You lowered your arms to your sides. “You like it then?”

All the words he wanted to say required more articulation than what his brain was currently allowing him to do so all Hunter could manage to do was nod dumbly. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides as he fought with himself to stay in control of his faculties. He was waiting to see how you wanted to play this.

You’d talked yourself out of doing this countless time up until this point and even tonight that feeling had still lingered but now, hearing and feeling the impact this was having on him, you began to believe it again. The growing confidence allowed you to move forward and dictate what you wanted here. Your simmering arousal grew more as you stepped towards him. “Want to show me how much?” You whispered as you placed a teasing and seductive kiss to his neck and trailed your hand down his chest, undoing a few of his shirt buttons as you did so. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, and you mouthed along the tan skin that was now available to you, smiling as you heard his breaths grow more rapid and uneven. You brought your eyes back to his and waited expectantly.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped to his knees and placed slow, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of your thighs, sucking marks into your skin as he moved closer to where you were absorbing the softness of the material, teeth grazing the edges of the fabric.

“Hunter?” You murmured with a sensual sigh as you brought your head back from where it had fallen towards your shoulder blades and peered down at him. You caressed the side of his face with your left hand, your engagement ring proudly standing out as you moved your fingers with a tenderness that didn’t quite match the intentions you had tonight.

Hunter kissed your palm and relished in the feeling of the cool metal band against your skin as he stared up at you. He was enraptured by the sight of you and completely at your mercy.

You moved your hand to rake your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends and you smirked at the low groan he ground out at that, before you uttered a simple command without so much as opening your mouth. Fuck me.

The change in him was instantaneous. With a breath that sounded akin to a growl, he got to his feet and kissed you with an intensity to match what you were asking of him before he backed you into the wall. He didn’t miss a beat as he carried on kissing you and picked you up by the back of your thighs.

You matched the passionate strokes of his mouth with yours as you wrapped your legs around him and tangled your fingers in his shirt with a moan you felt him tight against you.  

Hunter didn’t know where to start. He wanted to worship you in the way you deserved to be but the need he had for you was overpowering and he couldn’t stop touching your lace covered skin as he kissed you with utter desperation and need.

You knew what he was holding back for but this time, you didn’t want it gentle.

You wanted it rough.

You wanted to feel him.

Your body was yearning for him, and you couldn’t wait.

You snaked your hands down between you to reach for the waistband of his trousers. I need you. I need you now, Hunter. You said as you had to pull away to draw a much inconvenient but needed breath.

That was all he needed for his lingering doubt and restraint to officially vanish. Hunter didn’t bother removing the flimsy piece of fabric, nor did he particularly want to. So, he merely moved your underwear to the side without breaking the kiss. A low, eager groan rumbled from his chest as he moved into you.

Any pain quickly morphed into pleasure, and you welcomed the sensation of feeling him in this way as he moved against you. Harder. You instructed as you kissed him and took his lip between your teeth in encouragement.

Hunter was only too happy to obey. He relished the loud, breathy groan that emitted from you as he gave you what you wanted and the way your grip on his shoulders tightened, only heightened his own desire for you.

The two of you were to wound up for this to last as long as you usually did, and you could tell by the way his movements started to stutter that he was reaching that point of ecstasy that you were careening towards too.

Hunter could feel you tightening around him, and his words left him in a frantic and breathless manner, “I’m not going to- I can’t- you need to- fuck, you feel so good.” He couldn’t even finish his train of thought. He was that caught up in the feel of you and knew he wasn’t going to last for much longer, but he refused to let you go unsatisfied.

You knew what he was requesting and brought your own hand down between you and a cry left your lips as you went tumbling towards your climax.

Hunter swallowed the precious sound from you and pressed his mouth to yours in a final, hard and fervid kiss as he allowed himself to go with you. You both fell apart together with a shared groan and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the two of you working on getting your breath back.

Hunter pressed his forehead against yours. “Did I ever actually tell you how stunning you look in this?” He asked as he got his bearings back.

“I think the focus lied elsewhere.” You kidded through a tired laugh. “But I got the message without it.”

“Well, you do. I mean you always do but this, yeah, this was a nice surprise.” He said gratefully. He kissed the hollow of your throat. “I love you. You took my breath away and you look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You uttered quietly as you stroked through the ends of his hair. “I love you too.”

“Is this what you had in mind before Skara Nal?” He asked, his voice far raspier than it typically was as he lowered you down but continued to toy with you and the fabric.

His shirt was half-buttoned and wrinkled, his bandana askew and he was panting heavily. And you knew you were in just as equal a dishevelled state. “Might’ve been.” You said coyly as you ran your fingers through the shorter hairs of his fringe. “Lyra thought it was pretty important to re-create.”

“Remind me to thank her.” Hunter mumbled against your neck.

“And I have two more.” You said through a gratified and happy sigh as you cradled the back of his head as he lightly and dotingly kissed across your collarbone. “Next time I’ll wear one of the different colours.” You promised.

Hunter rested his forehead on your chest with a low moan. “I don’t know how you expect me to focus on wedding planning when I know this is something that I’ll be returning too. We’re going to have the most bizarre mix of wedding accompaniments cause I’ll just be looking for the quickest way out.”

You chuckled softly and on slightly shaky legs, you made to step past him to freshen up but Hunter’s hand around yours stopped you in your tracks.

“Hold on, what makes you think I’m done with this one?” Hunter said, his eyes gleaming with both mischief and desire.

“Aren’t you?” You replied with a smirk, but your heart was already racing in anticipation once more.

“There were a lot of really terrible bands.” He said by way of answer before he led you towards the bed.

Next Oneshot (to be posted)>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @moonychicky, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906 , @nightmonkeysstuff @allthingsimagines , @thegreymarveljedi , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld , @ooostarwarsfandom501st

[underacalicosky]

Anyone else obsessed with Obikin freckles? Thanks to @paracosm-draw and Obikin Promptober 2024, I was thinking about freckles all day.

And yes, I realize freckles was supposed to be a NSFW prompt, but I did this in a rush and didn't have the time to write something smutty. Sowwy.

Obi-Wan’s determined, brisk footsteps announce his arrival in the medbay before he appears in the doorway to the exam room where Anakin is being evaluated.

Kix has Anakin’s chin gripped firmly in one hand while the other gingerly presses a batch patch to his forehead, right above the vertical scar that clips his eyebrow. Without turning his head, Anakin glances from the corner of his eye and sees Obi-Wan exhale evenly as his shoulders relax ever so slightly.

Relief.

Had it been a sharp exhale while his posture straightened, it would’ve been frustration.

A slow exhale followed by a drop of his shoulders would’ve meant disappointment.

“General,” Kix greets Obi-Wan. “Almost done here.” He secures the patch with another layer of adhesive bandage.

Anakin remains silent as Obi-Wan approaches the exam table he’s perched on, legs dangling off one side.

“Concussion,” Kix states and shifts back. He nods at Obi-Wan before giving Anakin a tight smile. “Not your first, unfortunately.”

“Hmm, no,” Obi-Wan mutters.

Another long exhale of breath.

Resignation. With a hint of amusement.

After a quick calculation, Anakin thinks the chances of getting lectured by Obi-Wan have diminished significantly.

“So your discharge instructions should be familiar. Lots of rest. Including cognitive rest. Don’t be going over battle plans and overusing your brain,” Kix says and gestures to Anakin’s head. He rattles off a list of things that Anakin should avoid and symptoms to look out for. “And I will send all of this to General Kenobi’s datapad,” Kix concludes.

Anakin is about to protest when Kix speaks up again.

“Because you should limit datapad usage for the next three to four rotations.”

“So I can’t write the mission report?” Anakin asks carefully.

“Afraid not, General.” Kix confirms. “Comm me if you start experiencing any of the symptoms I mentioned earlier,” he says. He looks between them and nods. “You’re free to go.”

Once Kix leaves, Obi-Wan steps closer, a crease between his brows.

Worry.

“I’m fine, Master,” Anakin says.

Obi-Wan lifts his hand to brush a stray curl off his forehead, holding it back as he leans in to peer at the bandage under the stark white lights of the medbay. His lips purse, the furrow in his brow deepening.

Displeasure.

“Really, I’m fine,” Anakin insists.

Obi-Wan hums, unconvinced, and withdraws his hand. Unexpectedly, his thumb swipes across Anakin’s cheekbone. A gentle and light touch.

Anakin’s lips part in response, the breath stuttering in his lungs, eyes blinking rapidly.

Obi-Wan repeats the motion, slower, while his eyes narrow and the corners of his mouth dip.

“What— why…” Anakin breathes.

Once more, he caresses Anakin’s face, the pad of his thumb tracing a deliberate path. His expression remains the same.

Confusion.

Anakin watches as Obi-Wan studies him. His skin flushes at the contact, the scrutiny. His heart begins to pound behind his sternum.

“I… I never noticed…” Obi-Wan says softly. His gaze is locked onto Anakin’s cheek. “You have freckles.” He shakes his head. “How is it that I never noticed them before?” he wonders.

“They’re very faint,” Anakin says quietly, as though it was a confession, still staring into Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Yes, but… it’s you… and they're so... I would’ve certainly noticed…” Obi-Wan trails off, leaving his thought incomplete, a deep pink spreading down his neck.

Something in Anakin’s stomach flutters.

Obi-Wan notices things about him.

Maybe not the way Anakin notices things about Obi-Wan. Not like knowing what Obi-Wan's thinking based on the set of his eyebrows. Or sensing when how tired his former Master is based on the slope of his shoulders. Or understanding that when he gives short, clipped answers in a high-pitched voice, it's because Obi-Wan's either really hungry or has to pee.

Maybe not to that degree.

But enough to feel off-balance when he's faced with something he hasn't noticed before about Anakin that he thinks he should've known.

Swallowing, Anakin reaches up and wraps his gloved hand around Obi-Wan’s wrist. Under the fingertips of his mechno-arm, Obi-Wan’s pulse races.

“Maybe they were just waiting for the right moment to be noticed,” Anakin says.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Iced Coffee & Scary Movies

>It seems you saved my life 💋 can I take you out for a drink to say thank you?🪳

Staring down at your phone you read the message again. This had to be Simon’s friend that you kissed before they all left for a job. He had been fun to talk to, a little shell-shocked when you layered on lipstick and proceeded to cover him with it before sending him out the door, but still fun.

< I'm still not calling you that. There is a cute early morning cafe I've been wanting to try if you're down.

The reply takes a while to come in. They must have just gotten back from their secretive jobs that take them out of the country. That thought brought on another one. Simon would be coming home and you hadn’t bought a single item of food since he left. He would notice but you prayed that he wouldn’t comment on it.

Your late-night coffee shop hadn’t been doing well. Either word had not gotten out to people that a place existed that wasn’t a bar to hang out late into the night or the universe was out to get you. Maybe you should print flyers to pass out at AA meetings. Now there was a thought.

Your coffee date met you at the cafe you suggested. You'd been wanting to try for months now, but most of your mornings were consumed by sleep since your shop stayed open to customers until 2 AM this was your first chance. Standing in the single beam of sunlight outside of the shop you waited.

When someone stepped close to you and stopped you opened your eyes and smiled.

Hi, ready to go in?

He still wore sunglasses and a surgical mask.

You nodded and turned to catch the door handle. Halfway open he caught the handle from behind you and opened it the rest of the way. He walks by your side as you move close enough to see the menu. A latte could tell you a lot about a coffee shop. Decided you turned to look at your date. His head shifted from side to side as he read the board. When he finally looked at you, he lifted a brow.

Smiling you signed your question.

Do you know what you want? I can order for us.

Iced caramel macchiato, large.

Your date waited with you; hands shoved in his pockets. You didn't take offense, bit hard to know where to go when you had assaulted him with kisses and sent him out the door.

Stepping to the counter you waited your turn. When your turn arrived, the barista called from the espresso machine.

"I'll be just a minute."

"Take your time." You knew how hard those rushes could be.

A few moments pass when the stressed but customer smile in place the barista is ready for your order.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Can I get a large iced macchiato and a medium lavender latte?"

"That everything?"

"Actually, I run After Dark a few streets into and I was wondering if you also get milk from one of the local farms."

The barista's brows shoot up, "I've been meaning to try your shop! Your open late right, like midnight?"

Que the awkward smile, "Two actually, but yeah."

"Oh man I love the idea of a late-night spot that isn't all about alcohol. To answer your question yes, has your milk been going bad really fast too?"

"Yes! I didn't want to stop ordering from them without asking another shop. I worried that I was just getting bad batches."

"Nope, not just you. Now I'll just be a moment to get these ready for you," he quoted the price, and you winced internally. You hadn't been paying yourself beyond rent for a couple months.

A card tapped to the POS from beside you. Your date pressed the 20% tip without hesitation, raising your opinion of him already. Stepping to the middle of the shop you waited for your drinks.

You signed as you spoke.

"Since I refuse to call you a bug, I'll just have to guess your name. Is Roman?"

His shoulders shook slightly in a laugh as he shook his head.

You tapped your chin with a finger.

“Hmm, must be Tilly then?”

You watch him laugh again, and shake his head.

“Ah, must be Galahad then!” You exclaim.

The smile the cracks under his mask can be seen in the way his cheeks pull to the side and the tips of his ears take on a splash of pink.

Gary. My name is Gary.

“Hi Gary, it’s nice to meet you.”

You would sign everything you could to him today. His ears must be on fire with how red they are.

Before he can reply your order is called out. Grabbing both, you hand him his drink before taking a sip of your own.

The warm flavors slide across the tongue and the lavender sits well in your nose.

“Good flavor, not overpowered by either the coffee or the lavender. How is yours?”

Gary shrugged. When he looked at your face you lifted a brow.

Watching the realization wash across him that you understood sign and even expected him to share his thoughts could be called magical.

Good, I like caramel.

“Did you want a sip of mine?” You tilt your cup to him.

He takes the cup, looks down at his hand full of drink and passes off his to you. He lifts the mask enough to try the warm drink. From his brows creeping above the sunglasses, you assume he is surprised but liked it.

Once his mask is settled back in place you trade drinks again.

Did you want to try some of mine?

“Sure,” you lean forward and sip the straw. The chill of the drink is interesting compared to the warmth of your still in your mouth.

“I like it. The weather is decent, did you want to walk?”

At his nod you head for the door. Again, he catches the door before you can hold it for him. Rolling your eyes with a smile you let him handle it.

“Do you like your job?”

Gary waggled his hand to and fro.

“Do you blow stuff up like Johnny?”

A croaking of a laugh has you smiling into your coffee. Taking that as a no.

Do you like having a coffee shop?

“I love it. I love the people who come through and making drinks and giving people a safe space to hang out that isn’t the bars.”

You can see the question in his shoulders.

“I don’t drink, for lots of reasons so going to bars has always been a bit boring for me.”

I would love to come by if you don’t mind.

“I would love if you came by, I even know your order now,” you bumped him with your shoulder.

Gary didn’t stand as tall as most of Simon’s men, but he had to be as solid as any of them. He didn’t move an inch.

What is your favorite science fact?

“Tough question.” You take a sip of your drink giving yourself time to think. “Flames don’t cast shadows.”

Gary stopped.

You made it two steps before you noticed.

Turning back, you can see him pushing up his sunglasses to send you a bewildered look. Biting your tongue you fight back a laugh.

“Do you need a moment?”

Shaking his head he settles his glasses back down on his nose as he falls back into step with you.

---- are more likely to get struck by lightning than people.

“What are?”

He signs the unfamiliar word again.

“Can you spell that for me?”

He pulls out his phone and after a few taps he shows you a giraffe.

“Oh! Is that what the sign is? Cool. Thanks for showing me. And that is an interesting fact.”

Conversation goes on like that until you see a small outdoor market. Gary doesn’t object when you drag him to every stall, showing him interesting art or magnets. You were taken by a pair of earrings, beautifully crafted, handmade and so out of your price range that putting them back didn’t hurt. Gary chatted with you about silly shirts and funny hats.

He warmed up to the date as it went on. Sharing jokes and observations that left you in stitches the day wore on. After you had looked at every booth, Gary took your hand, pulling you along this time. When he neared the movie theater he asked about a show.

Scary movie?

“I’m not a fan but I will make silly comments to you in the dark, so I don’t get too scared.”

Gary held your hand as he bought the tickets, and the popcorn. You visited the restroom before heading in for the movie. No use going into jump scares with an even semi-full bladder. He took your hand back up as you left the bathroom. The theater was empty when you looked around.

Top seats?  You signed to him.

Lifting your joined hands towards the stairs you take the lead. Settling below the projector you reach up at hand. A shadow large as life of your hand appears on the blank screen.

“Yes! I thought this theater might be the one,” turning to him with a grin you continue. “My brother and I would pick these seats when my mom would take us to the movies. We would have to stand on the seats to do it, but we would play shadow puppets while waiting for the show to start.”

You focus on contorting your fingers into a bunny. A dog appears and takes a shadow chomp of your bunny’s ears. Glancing over to Gary you caught sight of his smiling eyes. He had moved his sunglasses to hang off his shirt. The ten minutes until the previews started were filled with your giggles as Gary played shadow puppets with you.

When the movie starts you slide your hand into Gary’s and hold on for dear life as scare after scare tried to take you out. He typed out silly messages on his phone that he showed to you every time you jumped, leaving you laughing instead of cowering.

The walk to the flat you shared with Simon followed the pattern of laughter. When you got to the front door you turned.

“Did you want to come in? I have about an hour before I need to get at the shop.”

Gary shook his head. I have a few things to accomplish today.

“Okay, I can understand that,” you gave him a small smile. You truly didn’t mind; Simon often would be gone for long stretches even when he was home getting things done. “Thanks for the date Gary, I had fun.”

Me too. Hold out your hand.

You do, palm flat.

The pair of earrings that you had regretted not having the money to buy sat in your hand. When you could close your mouth and look up Gary had made it quite a distance.

“Gary!”

He turns enough to wave and keep walking.

Touched beyond words you watch him until he disappears. Looking back to your earrings you decide on an outfit to match them for work tonight.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist