#can you guess what was making it so heavy

[prokopetz]

I think a lot of folks in indie RPG spaces misunderstand what's going on when people who've only ever played Dungeons & Dragons claim that indie RPGs are categorically "too complicated". Yes, it's sometimes the case that they're making the unjustified assumption that all games are as complicated as Dungeons & Dragons and shying away from the possibility of having to brave a steep learning cure a second time, but that's not the whole picture.

A big part of it is that there's a substantial chunk of the D&D fandom – not a majority by any means, but certainly a very significant minority – who are into D&D because they like its vibes or they enjoy its default setting or whatever, but they have no interest in actually playing the kind of game that D&D is... so they don't.

Oh, they'll show up at your table, and if you're very lucky they might even provide their own character sheet (though whether it adheres to the character creation guidelines is anyone's guess!), but their actual engagement with the process of play consists of dicking around until the GM tells them to roll some dice, then reporting what number they rolled and letting the GM figure out what that means.

Basically, they're putting the GM in the position of acting as their personal assistant, onto whom they can offload any parts of the process of play that they're not interested in – and for some players, that's essentially everything except the physical act of rolling the dice, made possible by the fact most of D&D's mechanics are either GM-facing or amenable to being treated as such.*

Now, let's take this player and present them with a game whose design is informed by a culture of play where mechanics are strongly player facing, often to the extent that the GM doesn't need to familiarise themselves with the players' character sheets and never rolls any dice, and... well, you can see where the wires get crossed, right?

And the worst part is that it's not these players' fault – not really. Heck, it's not even a problem with D&D as a system. The problem is D&D's marketing-decreed position as a universal entry-level game means that neither the text nor the culture of play are ever allowed to admit that it might be a bad fit for any player, so total disengagement from the processes of play has to be framed as a personal preference and not a sign of basic incompatibility between the kind of game a player wants to be playing and the kind of game they're actually playing.

(Of course, from the GM's perspective, having even one player who expects you to do all the work represents a huge increase to the GM's workload, let alone a whole group full of them – but we can't admit that, either, so we're left with a culture of play whose received wisdom holds that it's just normal for GMs to be constantly riding the ragged edge of creative burnout. Fun!)

* Which, to be clear, is not a flaw in itself; a rules-heavy game ideally needs a mechanism for introducing its processes of play gradually.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #game design

[caitlinbueckers]

baby daddy.

paige bueckers x reader

3.2k

like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3

ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.

MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!

“babe.”

it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.

“dude, you’re kidding,”

“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”

to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.

which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.

‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.

‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”

you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.

truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.

“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.

it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.

in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, black, privacy sack swinging between her fingers.

“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.

you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.

no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.

not like paige was any better.

it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.

“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”

you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.

“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“

KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.

the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.

it makes you think.

it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”

it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.

“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.

“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.

surprisingly, she looks just as interested.

it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”

you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.

“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”

“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”

paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”

it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”

“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”

it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”

she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.

“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”

it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.

still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.

she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.

she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”

it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.

“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.

it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”

“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.

it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.

it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”

it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.

“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.

for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.

“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.

and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.

before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”

it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.

it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.

“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.

this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.

“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”

it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.

she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.

it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.

“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.

“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”

it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”

“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.

you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.

besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye im moving rooms’.

you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #writing asf #paige bueckers #smut #wlw #still feel like i could get even worse

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event Part 4

Philomela: Go change with these. *tosses some clothes to Silver, Floyd, Yuurin, Rook, and Sebek*

Sebek, Silver, and Floyd: *ended falling on their backs*

Floyd: *laughing*

Philomela: Whoops. I forgot that you were just teeny-tiny creatures.

Rook: *has grabbed onto Yuurin so he wouldn't fall because of the impact*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: The clothes weren't heavy.

Rook: *chuckles* Non. But it was the way she tossed them to us.

Yuurin: Oh.

Philomela: After you're done, Rook, Silver, Sebek, and Floyd, you'll be coming with me to discuss your preferred setup for the wrestling match.

Silver: Huh?

Sebek: Preferred setup?

Floyd: I heard from Jade that you've got some cool tech here~. Is it one of them~?

Philomela: YOU BET IT IS! *laughs*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I'll be chatting with the others while you do that.

Epel: Damn... We're seeing those abs again, Yuurin!

Yuurin: Hm.

Malleus: However, it appears ordinary in comparison to the others.

Yuurin: In ancient times, wrestlers from the Kingdom of Heroes used to fight naked.

Yuurin: With these clothes, this is the closest thing to that.

Malleus and Epel: O-Oh...

Yuurin: Oh. And it's also to ensure no cheating would happen.

Jade: Though, isn't it unfair to you?

Yuurin: ?

Jade: What I mean is, are you not afraid that others will cheat?

Yuurin: Would they?

Malleus: Sebek and Silver won't ever do that.

Epel: Yeah! Rook-senpai too! He's all about playing fair!

Jade: ...

Jade: *chuckles* I guess Floyd will try.

Jade: If he feels like it.

Malleus and Epel: ...

Ruggie: They sure taking their sweet time, huh?

Jack: Yuurin, why do they get to discuss their preferred setup while you're here, talking with us?

Yuurin: I'm guessing that I'll be fighting all of them.

Yuurin: That is, if I keep on winning.

Ruggie: Hmm. So in short, it's to make things difficult for you.

Yuurin: *nods*

Jack: ...

Jack: By the way, Ruggie-senpai, I noticed you were not answering Leona-senpai's calls.

Ruggie: I'll just video call him when the match starts.

Jack: ...

Ruggie: Don't worry. I know what I'm putting myself into.

Yuurin: What do you mean by that, Ruggie-senpai?

Ruggie: Oh, it's nothing.

Philomela: Here are the rules: You've got 30 minutes to beat your opponent! You win if you knock them out, they admit defeat, or time runs out!

Philomela: Do you understand?

Yuurin and the others: Yes.

Philomela: Great! Now let this match begin!

Philomela: Yuurin and Sebek! I'll be sending you now to the designated place!

Floyd: Good luck, damselfish~ Don't lose to Crocodile, okay~?

Silver: Do your best, Sebek. And you too, Yuurin.

Sebek: Hmph!

Rook: Monsieur Tranquille! Monsieur Crocodile! I'll be cheering on you two!

Yuurin: *gives them a nod*

Sebek: *smirks* I'll make this easy for you, Yuurin.

Epel, Malleus, Jack, Jade, and Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: THAT'S A FREAKING CLIFF!

Philomela: Haha! Yes!

Epel: O-Oh, I get it. It's for the scenery.

Philomela: No. It isn't.

Epel: *horrified expression*

Jade: There are spikes beneath the cliff, so if you fall...

Philomela: Those are just decorations, but if you did fall, you'd meet the pavement.

Jack: That feels reassuring...

Epel: Don't force yourself, Jack...

Sebek: If you choose to give up now, I won't hold it against you. *smirking*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *tilts her head in a relaxed manner*

Yuurin: Sebek, it seems you didn't think this through.

Sebek: Huh? What are you trying to say, human?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *feints a punch*

Sebek: !!!

Sebek: What the— What's wrong with you?!

Yuurin: *feints another punch*

Sebek: !!!

Yuurin: ...

Sebek: ...

Sebek: STOP TOYING WITH ME, HUMAN!

Yuurin: ...

Epel: I could feel Yuurin's urge to do a facepalm right now.

Jade: Honestly speaking, Sebek Zigvolt chose a great place.

Philomela: He could use it on his advantage.

Philomela: Only if he had understood its purpose.

Sebek: *has found the opportunity to apply a triangle choke on Yuurin*

Sebek: What can you say now, human?!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Not bad.

Sebek: N-Not bad? NOT BAD?!!

Sebek: YOU ARE AT MY MERCY!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *straightens her posture, pushing her shoulders back to create space, then begins to lift Sebek off the ground*

Sebek: Huh? HUH?

Yuurin: *once her trapped arm is free and she secures a stable position, she begins to transition into an armbar submission hold*

Sebek: This is... not enough... to defeat me...

Yuurin: Then escape. *tightens her grip*

Sebek: AHH!!! YOU BASTARD!!!

Malleus: *ended up laughing*

Epel: No— Malleus-senpai— *wheezes*

Ruggie: Shishishi... This is so good. *while recording the match*

Jack: ...

Jack: One question. Is this being broadcasted right now?

Philomela: Why, yes. The whole Kingdom of Heroes and the other schools who joined us are watching.

Jade: Oh, look, Yuurin has let go of Sebek.

Jack: But he hasn't tapped out—

*Yuurin started to carry Sebek and walked to the edge of the cliff*

Jack and Ruggie: ...

Epel: He's not going to do what I think he would... Is he?

*Yuurin jumped off the edge of the cliff with Sebek.*

Jade: He did.

Philomela: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH! YUURIN!!!!

Sebek: *after he received treatment*

Yuurin: ...

Sebek: I will get back at you. Remember that.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *starts tapping his back*

Sebek: DON'T CONSOLE ME!

Yuurin: You need it.

Sebek: YES! BUT NOT FROM YOU!

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst sebek #twst silver #twst rook #twst floyd #twst jade #twst malleus #twst epel #twst jack #twst ruggie #twst oc philomela #twst unveil event

[princessmaybank]

I Love You So Fucking Much

Pairings: Sweet!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Fluff, Pussy Whipped!JJ, Surprise Kiss, Mention of Heavy Petting, Oral (Fem. receiving, short lived), p in v, no protection, cliffhanger, not really edited, etc.

Summary: The guys have been teasing JJ about his crush all day.

Authors Note: My first fic in a while! It's a little short, let me know if you want a part 2! I hope you like it!

JJ's POV:

Pope and John B apparently woke up and chose to torture me today. All day we've been with the girls and they wouldn't stop crackin' jokes. Basically I like my best friend and the guys pressured me into telling them that information a few days ago. I haven't seen her since before I told them, and I guess the guys just got really excited and wanna be dicks. Can't say I wouldn't do the same to one of them.

We were hangin' out in front of the fire at the chateau. I was in a fold up chair in between Pope and Sarah. John B was obviously directly next to Sarah and Kie and Y/N were on the other side of the fire. I couldn't stop staring at Y/N. She is gorgeous, her eyes lit up in front of the fire. "Got a lil drool there." Pope teases and reaches for my face, causing me to back up and slap his hand. Everyone noticed me slap him and was staring. "Why'd you hit Pope?" Sarah asked.

"Because it's funny." Is the best I could come up with. Everyone went back to their conversations but I saw John B whispering to Sarah out of the corner of my eye. Next thing I know Sarah turned to me and gasped, of course he fuckin' told the blabbermouth. I glare at her and whisper 'don't' , hopefully she listens.

Pope noticed the events and giggled to himself. "I don't see why you're so scared." Once again I was the center of attention. Kie finally pipes up. "JJ Maybank is scared of something? Never." Everyone giggled, exchanging nods.

Even though the topic changed many times I was still the focus of the night. The guys, and now Sarah, have still been teasing the whole time.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer, anyone want one?" Y/N asked the group as she stood up. Everyone gave her a nod or a 'yes'. "Wasn't expecting everyone, can someone help me?" She smiled with that small laugh that makes her cheeks go pink. She looked so perfect, the fire made her eyes twinkle.

"JJ would love to help you Y/N." Pope said before anyone could offer. "Yeah JJ go help our dear friend Y/N." John B said with a smug look on his face. Y/N shook off JB's weird look as I got up and followed behind her.

She was bent over in the fridge handing beers to me, not looking back. My teeth involuntarily bit my bottom lip as I stared at her ass. She was wearing shorts but she might as well be naked with the way I'm gawking at her.

I didn't notice she had stood up and turned around until a hand waved in front of my face. "Hey there, anybody home?" She giggles. Fuck that laugh was gorgeous. "oh uhm yeah sorry-" I apologized. She giggled again. "What were you so fixated on?" "Uhm- nothing..it's not really important.." I said while grabbing the beers and heading to the door. She shrugged it off as we just went outside.

When we made it back, apparently Kie played musical chairs because she was in my seat now. Leaving the two across from everyone open. We passed out the beers and I begged Kie to give me my seat back but she only smirked at me and waved me off. So everyone knows now, fuckin' great.

"Just come sit with me Jay- I don't bite." She smiled, patting the chair next to her. "What if he wants you to..." Pope muttered almost too loud. "What?" She asked, looking confused. I shook my head telling her not to worry about it and I took my seat next to her.

Everyone on the other side of the fire is having a conversation- well Pope and Kie are, Sarah and JB are sucking each other's faces off. Y/N and I just kinda sat in uncomfortable silence for a little bit before she spoke up. "Why have the guys been teasing you all day?" I was not prepared for this question so the truth just kinda came out. "Oh- uh they found out I uh like this girl and now they won't leave me alone about it." I said not looking into her eyes. "Awe I wanna know!" She said, full of excitement. I shook my head 'no' very vigorously, not uttering a word. Everyone was looking at us again. "Oh please! I love love! I won't tell her Jayj!" She smiled and grabbed my hand for reassurance but I couldn't focus. "Yeah, c'mon Jayj! She won't tell her!" John B chimed in teasingly. My cheeks were heating up as everyone, including her, looked at me. Her hand was still on mine.

"I need to take a leak." I sprung up out of my seat and announced to the others. Everyone just shrugged as I walked towards the house. I headed to the bathroom and actually did have to piss when I got there, so I guess it wasn't a full blown lie.

When I was done I washed up and calmed down. I stared in the mirror at my bright red cheeks. How did she have this effect on me?

When my emotions were finally under control I went to walk out of the bathroom, but I was met face to face with the goddess herself. "Are you okay Jayj? You've been gone a little while." She sounded so concerned and the way she calls me that nickname makes me wanna bust in my pants right here and now.

"Uhm yeah, just a little overheated from the fire." I shrug trying not to let her fluster me. She crossed her arms like she didn't believe a word I said. "You're acting really weird tonight Jayj...did I do something wrong?" The look on her face made me upset, she looked sad. "Of course not.." I rush to say. "I told you the guys have been messing with me about my crush all day, it's upsetting me.." That also wasn't a full blown lie. I was upset over the things they were saying, but only because they were saying everything in front of said crush.

"Wanna talk about it?" She whispered softly, her eyes begged. I just nodded before motioning to the guest bedroom so I could talk about it with her privately. I sat down on the bed and when she got in the room, she shut and locked the door. I was instantly hard but I knew that's not where this was going. Y/N found her spot next to me and faced her body towards me. I stayed on the edge of the bed, not looking at her but I really really wanted to.

I felt a hand creep onto my thigh. "It's okay if you don't wan-" I cut her off by turning and kissing her. Surprisingly she kissed me back. I'm not sure where this confidence came from, but I'm running with it. Neither of us stopped this kiss until she needed some air. When our lips parted, her face was laced with shock.

"I-I'm sorry- I shouldn't ha-" I started tripping over my words before she cut me off. "I liked it." She said, still filled with shock, which made me happy inside but I wasn't sure where to go from here.

We sat in silence for about a minute before she straddled me and took my lips with hers again. She laid me down, deepening the kiss as she very carefully and slowly rocked her hips on mine. She was so scared to move her hips that I almost didn't feel it against me. I moved mine more harshly against hers to show her it was okay.

After about 30 seconds of heavy petting, I was tearing her clothes off. We had switched positions now and she looked perfect. I was standing in front of her only in my shorts and boxers while she laid there naked. I couldn't help my eyes from wandering all over her body, which unfortunately made her freeze and hide her body. I moved her arms away trying to slowly soothe her. "You're gorgeous.." I smile at her. Before she could say anything I massaged her perfect tits and then got on my knees in front of her.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. She gave a shy smile before eagerly nodding to me. "I wanna hear a 'yes', Y/N." It came out more stern than intended. "Ye-yes Jayj.." She stuttered. She fucking stuttered. Knowing that I'm the man getting her flustered and ready, is fueling my confidence. I just want to please her in this moment.

Her eyes followed my motions as I peppered kisses on the insides of her thighs. I couldn't stop staring into her beautiful, sparkling eyes. They had a hold on me and wouldn't let go. As I got closer to her heat, she made it quite clear that that is where she needed me most. I lightly placed kisses up and down, reaching from her dripping wet hole to her swollen clit. A moan escaped her lips as she stared into my eyes. I couldn't keep teasing I needed her now. I gave her a few good minutes of sucking and licking while reaching to fondle her tits. I would have continued but I heard a soft voice say-

"JJ please fuck me..."

That's all I needed to hear. I pulled my shorts and boxers down and gave myself a few slow strokes. Her eyes landed on my dick and went wide. Her jaw dropped and she kept staring. "It will fit." I chuckled knowing that's what she was worried about.

My hands reached for her cheeks to pull her closer into a soft, passionate kiss. I climbed on top of her, never breaking our kiss and lined myself up with her entrance. Y/N wrapped her arms around my neck as I pushed myself into her slowly which resulted in her pulling her mouth away from mine to let out a moan. I smirked and pulled her lips back to mine as I began to thrust inside her at an easy pace.

"Fuck Jay, you feel so good..." She said under her breath. I watched as her eyes and head rolled back with her pretty little mouth wide open, making the most beautiful sounds. "Keep your eyes on me pretty girl." I said pulling her gaze back to me by her chin with my first finger.

"D-don't call me that.. I'll cum" She said with a light laugh causing me to giggle a little. I hid my face in the nape of her neck because I felt embarrassed and also flustered. The way we were able to laugh and not feel pressured felt amazing. This felt natural. I started giving her neck small kisses before I found her sweet spot, I sucked on it until it was a deep red and purple. The moans I was responsible for slipping from her mouth were music to my ears.

When my eyes met hers again, I swear they were telling me that she felt the same way I did. That little sparkle from before seemed to only grow brighter. This is the most intimate I've ever been in my life, and I'm happy it's with her.

"I'm almost there Jayj..." She whined into my ear. My hips sped up and I pushed her knees to her chest so I'm able to pound deeper into her. "Fuck please don't stop, please." Her eyes were pleading with me. "I don't plan on it baby..." I rolled my eyes to the back of my head, half due to pleasure, the other half because I can't believe I just called her baby. But she smiled. She actually smiled.

I held myself back from kissing her anymore. I don't know if she liked me back or if this was a one time thing. I'm already beating myself up for doing this before taking her out first. But like I said before...it felt right, natural even.

My thrusts started getting faster and sloppier. The orgasm creeping up on me took all control of my body. Her legs fell to my sides as my hands held her waist and I pulled her close. Our eyes danced between each other's lips and gaze before we sealed the deal. My hips didn't stop their motions, and I knew she was about to bust by the way her sounds were getting muffled by our kiss. I nodded letting her know I was ready as well.

Next thing I knew, she pulled her lips away from mine to moan my name, then I felt her cum leaking out onto my dick. She was so beautifully undone beneath me. When it was my turn to release, I was a moaning mess. My load shot into her, the sounds we were making tangled together to make the most amazing music I've ever heard.

My head found its way to her ear as my arms wrapped around her torso. As I rode out our highs, I made one of the biggest mistakes you could make when having 'casual' sex. I didn't realize it until I pulled my head back and saw her eyes.

I can't believe I said it..

"I love you so fucking much..."

#outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: i slept so gosh dang heavy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You haul up the cask, one of the smaller but still heavy for your arms. The stairs are treacherous to the upper floors of the castle and you waddle down the corridors hugging the vessel with heavy steps. As you near the ivory room, you slow and face the wooden barrier. Should you knock? 

You look down. You can’t balance the cask with one arm. You lean and tap with your foot as best you can. You wait and hear only the draughts flowing in from the windows. Then at once, the hinges groan and the door swings inward, the king already in retreat. 

You enter, trying not to show your struggle, and carry it to the round table. You set it down with a loud clunk and your shoulders ache. You feel around your apron pockets for the spout. You sense the king’s mood clouding in the chamber. 

“If you knew it was to be heavy, you could have said so,” he grits as he sits across the table from you. 

“Your highness, it is not very much,” you lie. Your arms feel weak as you put the spout in place. You did not bring a stein. “I will fetch a cup--” 

“I don’t care about the ale,” he rests one hand against the handle. “If you are thirsty, there is a cup in my bedroll.” 

You back away, confused. You don’t protest or question him. Did you mishear him? He did request ale. 

“So I am wed,” he mulls and toys with a loose lace hanging from the open collar of his shirt. It is untucked from his breeches as his hair is tangled around his shoulders. 

“Good tidings for that, your highness,” you offer the expected courtesy. 

He looks at you and you wince, putting your head down as you back away.  

“Apologies, I speak out of turn,” you touch your chin. 

He huffs, “weddings are supposed to be happy, are they not?” 

You bow your head lower, “I believe so, your highness.” 

He hums and tabs his fingers on the armrest, “I am not very happy.” 

You stay as you are. He makes it hard to serve, he is cryptic to the point you can’t guess what he wants. You dare to peek up quickly but promptly retract your gaze as you meet his eyes. 

“Speak your thoughts, I see them written upon your brow,” he commands. 

You sway slightly and bend your arms behind you, “your highness--” 

“Look at me,” he demands. You obey. 

“Your highness,” you start cautiously, “you’ve been at war, perhaps you are sick for your home.” 

He scoffs and rubs the coarse stubble on his jaw, “my home? You would not think that if you knew it.” 

You slant your mouth. He raises his hand, gesturing with two fingers, “speak freely.” 

“You are correct, your highness, I would not know. I’ve never been further than a day’s ride from this castle. I only hear that the north is cold but anyone might guess that.” 

He snorts, “yes, it is cold. And dark. But the mountains, they are beautiful and when the snows fall, they glisten over the ground. So long as you have a fire to warm you, or a body near, it is not so bad.” He closes his eyes and leans his chin on his knuckles, “there are large elk with trees for antlers and the white wolves who blend into the snow but for their eyes, and the bears who sleep in the caves until the ground thaws in the springs.” He opens his eyes again and stares at you, “we have no summer there. The butterflies and flowers do not fare for long.” 

You imagine the place he describes. Or attempt to. It sounds frightening. No summer? 

“I’ve never seen snow,” you say at last. 

He sits up and his expression eases, “then you will to come see it.” 

You blink. Is he serious? Is that an order? 

“I serve the castle--” 

“You serve...” he swallows, “my wife and by rights I am her master. As she is yours, thus you serve me. She will need a familiar face once we are on to the Hinterlands. They are harrowing and she is weak. You will be her companion to see her through.” 

You don’t argue. You never do. He is right. All that is Lady Jazlene’s is now his. 

“Are you excited to come?” He asks. 

You think. You will do as you’re told thought it is an unexpected, almost undreamt of, opportunity. 

“I think I am, your highness. It is a far way and I’ve never been very far.” 

“Mm,” he puts his elbow on the table, almost amused as he watches you, “are you afraid?” 

“Why, yes, certainly,” you answer honestly. “You speak of bears and wolves. I’ve never seen those either, though I have seen deer.” 

“Do not fear, even the bears and the wolves bow to King Geralt,” he lets himself laugh, a bawdy rumbling like thunder. It surprises you, “but first we must ride south to tidy up the summer countries. I must meet my people, make sure they are not left to ruin.” 

You tilt your head but quickly fix it. He drones again, “speak.” 

“That is kind of you. No, as you said before, prudent. To make certain the people are not unhappy. War leaves scars.” 

“It leaves gaping wounds if one does stitch them up,” he counters, “a wise observation for a maid.” 

Your cheeks twitch. You think it’s a compliment. You lower your chin. 

“Ah,” he intones, “don’t. You don’t have to hide from me, little maid.” 

His last words drag over his tongue. His timbre is like smoke. You feel how it traps the air in your chest. You linger, uncertain, across from him. 

“Will you sit with me?” He asks and leans forward to pull out the chair nearest to him, “I rarely have pleasant company.” 

You hesitate. What about Jazlene? He has her. She is his wife now. You don’t dare ask that question. You move carefully around the chair and sit. He stays forward in his chair, his arm on the table. 

“I have told you of the Hinterlands, but what of you? I’ve seen some of your home but I expect this castle isn’t your real home,” he says. 

“It is the only home I remember,” you murmur, “I’ve been here since I was a girl.” 

His gold eyes flick down and he nods, “I didn’t...” he looks up again and leans back, a stitch in his brow, “would it make you unhappy to be away from home?” 

You purse your lips. You’ve never thought of leaving. You don’t feel any sort of way about the prospect, nothing more than ignorant. You don’t know what awaits you outside those walls. 

“I will go where I am bid,” you say evenly, “not many get to go so far from home. It would be nice to see more of the world.” 

He hums as he watches you, brushing his fingers through his white hair. You watch how his index catches in a wave and he tugs it free with agitation. He pauses, holding out his hand before dropping it to his lap. He inclines his head as if to say, ‘what are you looking at?’ 

“Are there many people like you there?” You ask, voice shaky. 

“Like me? There is only one king. I’ve made certain of that.” 

“No, I... never mind,” you curl one hand around the other, “your highness.” 

“Only me,” he affirms, “and what of you? I’ve yet to meet any like you.” 

You furrow your nose, “there are lots of maids, your highness.” 

He doesn’t respond and his shoulders drop. He once more runs his hand around his square jaw. He inhales and lets it out slowly. 

“You should leave now,” he utters softly, “before...” he pauses and his eyes wander to the window, “before the dawn.” 

You stand and bend your neck, “yes, your highness. I wish you a good sleep and a good marriage.” 

He returns only another thick grunt. You leave him without looking back. As you’re shut out in the dark corridor, a clatter comes from the other side. You turn back but do not go through. You smell something stringent and feel something wet seeping into the stitches of your shoes. You kneel and put your fingers in the liquid leaking under the door. It’s the ale. 

You stand and lean back on your heel. You never meant to anger the king. You will do well to stay out of the way. You don’t think you’ll be going to the Hinterlands after all. Merinda is much more fit for a royal court anyhow. 

⚔️

You sleep hardly an hour before you are on your feet again. The castle is in a flurry to get the horses and luggage on the road. You and Merinda help Lady Jazlene dress as her head threatens to droop this way and that. She’s tired and her yawns tickle your throat as you hold back a similar act. 

Lady Rezlyn enters, already dressed, her dark blue gown slashed with yellow in the sleeves. You and Merinda retreat to busy yourself with miniscule worries. The lady’s riding gloves and boots. A queen’s gloves and boots. 

“Oh, my daughter,” Rezlyn sweeps over to put her hands to Jazlene’s cheek, admiring her daughter as she ever does, “I see your wedding night has left you fatigued. I expected no less of a man like the king.” 

The lewd snicker from the duchess’ mouth makes your stomach churn. Jazlene trickles out a small chuckle and wriggles free of her mother’s grasp. She turns and sits to let you lace on her boots. 

“What is it, then?” Rezlyn challenges, folding her arms. “Did it hurt very much? I told you, daughter, it wouldn’t be very pleasant if you stay dry as parchment.” 

“Mother, please,” Jazlene begs, “I wasn’t...” she shakes her head and sniffs, “it was wonderful.” Her lie is told by the tremour in her void. She raises her head, “He is a true king and I am his queen now. These are matters between man and wife.” 

Rezlyn scowls and sneers, “very well then. How quickly your head swells.” 

“You will not mind so much when you see the advantage a queen’s mother reaps,” Jazlene’s bold tone returns. You see the same lady you’ve ever known. Haughty and stubborn. “I am off to meet my people, to ride through the kingdom. I will introduce my husband to my people and they will see they were wrong about me. Lady Theodora will choke on her stupid sapphire collar.” 

“Precious, I know they will,” Rezlyn smirks, “they will all see how wrong they were about our family. The will recall at last your father’s title and the history behind it.” 

Jazlene raises her chin and her nostrils flair, “is that why, mother? Is that why we’ve done this? To reclaim our glory?” 

“To find new glory. In a new kingdom. Darling, don’t you see, you will watch over a realm larger than any before. You and the greatest king the world has known.” 

You stand as Merinda hides her dry flutter of lashes. She is always much more amused by the flowery conversations between the duchess and her daughter. You can only think of the ale leaking under the door and the king’s declaration; ‘I am not very happy’. 

When Jazlene rises, you tie a cape around her shoulders, the shimmering silver with the blue and violet flowers sewn into it. She is sparkling in her new role. A queen with even a circlet of silver in her curls, though it was formerly a necklace.  

She emerges with her spine straight and her eyes set. She has readied all her life to be a wife though she just as easily acts a queen. Her shoulders are high and strong as she descends into the chaos of the castle. 

You and Merinda follow behind the two ladies. Lord Dustan blusters towards them, the toggle buttons of his riding jacket unaligned with the loops. He looks between his daughter and wife. 

“The horse will be ready shortly, are you ready to ride?” He sneers at Jazlene. 

“Father, I am the queen. You do not tell me--” 

“You are a queen and queen’s cannot be tardy. We must way to the capital to consolidate the kingdom. This is not a pageant,” he hisses. 

“Is the carriage ready?” Jazlene asks. 

“Carriage? You will ride abreast. All haste is required.” 

“Father,” Jazlene shifts on her feet with discomfort, “I’d be better on a cushion than a saddle--” 

“Argue it with the king then. His orders.” 

Dustan storms past without further discussion and disappears through the outer doors into the courtyard. Jazlene pouts into a grimace and looks at her mother. Rezlyn gives a wry shrug. 

“Well, your highness...” Rezlyn taunts. 

“Motherrrrr,” Jazlene growls before she spins and breezes away in her father’s stead. 

You trail the duchess into the dim hues of dawn. The yard is even more hectic than within. The king’s soldiers move like ants on a hill as their horses stand in patient rows, ready to be mounted. It is the Debray party that is in disarray. 

As Jazlene weaves through the crowd, several of the castle hands back away and show their deference for their new queen. The black and grey soldiers of the Hinter carry on in checking their saddle bags and weapons. The king is near the gate, head down as a steely haired soldier speaks to him. 

The duchess’ daughter, newly married, awoken a queen, approaches her husband without hesitation. 

“I am told I am not to have a carriage? I cannot sit a horse. It is unseemly--” 

King Geralt signals to his man with irritation. The soldier with eyes as grey as his hair quiets and backs away. You can tell by the pin on his mail that he must be important. 

“You will,” the king says evenly. “We must be quick. I cannot have a broken axle. We ride as if to battle. In itself, this is exactly what we face.” 

“But you have won--” 

“I won in blood, but there are other victories to be claimed,” the king interjects, “still your tongue and obey your husband and king. The world does not exist as your cloistered life in this castle.” 

“I am the queen and I want a carriage!” Jazlene squeals shrilly. Several heads turn as you keep your chin low. You know it isn’t the right response but Jazlene does not take orders easily. 

“You have not yet been coronated,” the king snarls, “do not forget so quickly on who’s back you rose.” 

Jazlene huffs and puts her hands to her hips. She steps closer to the king and he glares down at her. You peek up to find his eyes blazing. 

“I am your wife, not your servant,” she snaps, “and you will not speak to me as one.” 

He blinks and you retract your stare. You look over at Merinda as her face strains with horror. The tension of the confrontation quiets the courtyard. 

“If I need to have you strapped to the horse like a bedroll, then so be it,” King Geralt hisses. “I have done my duty to you so you will do yours or you should void our contract. Obey.” 

Jazlene stands defiantly close to the king. They stare at one another, the air thrumming between them. Lady Rezlyn reaches to touch her daughter’s sleeve. 

“You will look so pretty aback a horse, daughter. Imagine what the people will think when they see you resplendent as you ride into the capital, eh? You shouldn’t hide in a carriage, you will want to meet your people.” 

The daughter puffs out and steps back at her mother’s tugging. She retreats slowly as the king does not budge, his face twisted with anger. The duchess has tendered a fragile truce. 

“Come, I haven’t ridden in some time,” Rezlyn coaxes the younger woman. 

“And you will not,” King Geralt speaks at last, “my wife will ride. I see no need of her mother. She is no naive maiden.” 

Rezlyn flinches, “your highness?” 

The king raises his hand and gestures with his fingers. Two soldiers come forth in his colours, “I will leave some of my men to watch over your walls. The word will spread how Debray did assist in my victory. I have yet to assuage that animosity so you would be best to stay and hide behind your walls.” He drops his arm, gripping his pommel, “your husband has not yet given all he promised.” 

Rezlyn grips her daughter’s arm and staggers as if she’s been struck. What the king has said is clear. They are traitors, not only in the eyes of their fellow summer lords, but in his. He has not trust and the duchess will be kept in her castle as little more than a hostage. 

“Your highness,” Lady Rezlyn rasps, “I shall do as you bid. I will only say farewell to my daughter.” 

“Make it fast,” the king sneers. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #medieval au #series #winter's king #the witcher

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat : chapter 4

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache

Word count : 2131

Masterlist

He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.

The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.

You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”

It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.

Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.

You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.

With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.

You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.

A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.

‘Good morning :D’

You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.

‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’

You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.

‘I did indeed.’

‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’

Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.

Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.

You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.

“Hey, doll”

“Hi. You miss me already?”

You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”

“No! I think it’s really sweet.”

It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.

You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”

“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”

“I guess I’m just excited.”

“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”

He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.

“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”

“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.

“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”

You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.

He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.

The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.

You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.

He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.

“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”

“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”

He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

You gave him a little pout.

“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.

“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”

You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.

“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.

“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”

He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”

“Awe, already.”

“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”

“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.

You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.

By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.

You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.

“I’m fine, mom.”

She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I know.”

“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.

There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.

Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”

“Oh?”

She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.

"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’

“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.

“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”

“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”

“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”

“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”

“I-I'll be taken care of..."

“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”

You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.

“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.

She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”

It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”

“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”

She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.

“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.

It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.

“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”

You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.

“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.

You thought of Bucky.

“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.

“I…good, that’s good.”

You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.

“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”

“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”

“Thank you, mom.”

“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”

You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.

You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.

You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.

You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.

There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.

It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.

Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault

#fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #alpha bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #alpha bucky barnes #bucky x you #sebastian stan #bucky smut #alpha bucky x omega reader #with bucky #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #alpha bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #eventual smut #bucky barnes x you #buckybarnes #dark bucky #nothing is as it seems

[vodika-vibes]

Hello lovely! Could I please request Ruby for Dogma x female reader where they both have huge crushes on each other, but are too shy to say anything; one day after Dogma comes back from a long tour and she just decides to go for it and she glomps him, kissing him on the lips over and over again while his brother's are just standing there, jealously gawking lol. I hope this inspires you and I hope that what you're coming down with doesn't last long!🌼

Take A Chance

Summary: You’ve been crushing on Dogma for, what feels like, years. But you’ve always been too nervous to actually put your feelings into words. But, after your closest friend tells you that she’s going to invite Dogma into her bed when he returns from his deployment, you decide to take a chance.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x Reader

Word Count: 852

Warnings: Some angst at the beginning, but there's a happy ending. Also, reader has a toxic friend

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I didn't follow your prompt to the letter, but I think I'm happy with this, so I hope you are too!

Anxiety twists your stomach as you lean against the flowering tree on the base that the 501st call home when they’re not deployed. 

The Resolute docked about an hour ago. It’s only a matter of time before they actually come back to the base, and that’s the thing that is making you so anxious.

Not that they’re coming back, no. 

But the fact that you’re going to see Dogma.

Kind Dogma. Handsome Dogma.

Dogma, who you’ve been crushing on for months. Who you’ve been too shy to confess to, because he might not feel the same.

Dogma, who your best friend decided that she was going to try and bed, even though she knows about your crush on him. Her argument was that since you haven’t said anything yet, then he’s free game.

You warned her that if she did this, she would lose your friendship forever. And she just didn’t care.

So that definitely isn’t helping your anxiety. It’s not like you have so many friends that you can afford to lose any of them…even bad friends are better than no friends, right?

You lift your head when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots on the paved road, and a small smile crosses your lips when you see the 501st trekking back to their barracks.

Knowing them, most of them are going to change and hit up the bars or go and find their partners.

They deserve it.

And then there’s Dogma, talking to Tup, joking about something based on the wry grin on Tup’s face, and your heart lurches. You love him. You want to be his and him to be yours and…

And…

And you can’t do it.

Your hands curl into fists and you drop your gaze away from the man that you love so much.

He deserves…more. So much more.

You jump when a pair of boots stop in front of you, “Credit for your thoughts?”

“They’re hardly worth that much.” You reply automatically, before you lift your gaze. Dogma is standing in front of you, concern written clearly on his face, “Ah…welcome back, Dogma.”

“Thanks.” His dark eyes scan your face, “What’s wrong, you look upset.” His brow furrowed, “Did someone threaten you?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just…coming to a realization about myself, is all.”

“Wanna share?”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s important enough that it upset you.”

You hesitate, “Well…” You fold your arms, “There’s a guy-” Dogma’s expression twitches slightly, but he just motions for you to continue, “And I just realized that I’m never going to be good enough for him.”

“If he thinks that then he’s a karking idiot.” Dogma replies, “You’re amazing.”

“No, he didn’t…” You hesitate, “That was me coming to that realization, not…” You sigh, “Like I said, not important.”

Dogma is quiet for a moment, “Well,” He finally says, “Since you have this…guy,” His tone is odd, but he continues before you can question it, “I guess you’re not interested in getting a drink or something with me?”

“...what?”

“Like, caf. Or maybe something else, since you don’t drink caf.” Dogma adds, and then he flashes a wry smile, “Sorry, I had a plan, but now that I’m standing here, I can’t quite remember it.”

“A plan?”

“For asking you out. On a date.” He rubs the back of his neck, “But, you just said there’s a guy, so I guess you’re not interested-”

You stare at him, blankly for a moment. And then you step into his space and press your lips against his in an awkward kiss. You pull away quickly, and Dogma stares at you, as though his brain needs a moment to reboot.

He stares at you for long enough that you shift nervously, and avert your gaze, “U-um…I shouldn’t have-”

You’re not able to finish your sentence before Dogma’s lips are hot against yours, and he has you pressed against the tree behind you. Unlike your kiss, which was hesitant and very chaste, his kiss is sure and quickly becomes passionate.

And you’re helpless but to match his intensity, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck and he pins you against the tree.

There’s a loud whistle and a shout of, “Get it, Dogma!” Which causes him to break the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away, instead he presses his forehead against yours, and he raises his hand to flip off whichever brother that was.

There’s the sound of laughter, and then the audience disperses, not that you notice that, as your focus is locked on Dogma, who has all of his attention focused on you.

“So,” Dogma says as he leans in slightly, his lips hovering just over yours, “I’m the guy?”

“You’re the guy.” You agree.

Dogma exhales slowly, his breath fanning across your face, “Good.” He breathes out.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His gaze drops to your lips, “So…that date?”

“I’d like to go get some caf with you, Dogma.”

“Then I’ll go change and we can do that.” He murmurs, “But…first…” He trails off as his lips catch yours one more time. 

And, eagerly, you kiss him back.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #clone trooper dogma x reader #dogma x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[anatee]

Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut

Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Word count: 1.17K

Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; zero plot just smut, piv (unprotected), a bit sleepy I guess?, fainting mentioned

Author’s note: This is a 'hey, I'm alive' short shot (although I do have a cold). Next part of Insufferable in the works, meanwhile I hope you enjoy this one ;)

Y/N woke up in the middle of the night.

She didn't remember much. Last night, there was a fight, a scramble with the Resistance somewhere at the base, and she fainted amidst the chaos. It was Kylo who took her into his own arms and, after Y/N had been checked by the medics, brought her to his own chambers. She came to in his arms, and slept in them later on, feeling safer than ever before. It was their first time feeling each other's bodies up close, and despite the exhaustion of the battle, other things did come to their minds. After a day they both spent on exchanging tense glances, as if unsure if they should act on their desires, she fell asleep again… But not for long.

Kylo was sitting in the armchair next to the bed with his shirt open, reading something on his datapad despite the late hour. When he saw her stir, however, he immediately set it aside.

"Finally," he said with clear relief, setting the black, silky sheets aside. Y/N slowly rubbed her eyes, trying to make them work after the nap. She almost felt like she woke up in another dimension.

"Come here," he said quietly, then kissed her gently on the lips as if waking the Sleeping Beauty. Y/N smiled at that, but she knew it was barely scratching the surface. Such light kisses were not what Kylo was known for.

"Do you ever sleep?" she asked as she kept on rubbing her eyes. Kylo let out a short chuckle and soon enough, his hands were on her, unable to stay at his sides.

She suddenly felt him starting to unbutton her shirt. She didn't oppose, quite the contrary - she was grateful, because she felt like she was sweating excessively from the heat of the nap, and yet her pounding head remembered that she had absolutely nothing on under her shirt.

Kylo seemed to have noticed it at the same time. When she felt that nothing was covering her chest anymore, she heard his heavy breathing. It happened and she couldn't even hide behind her hair. Y/N almost jumped when she felt his icy cold hand between her breasts. He didn't even have his gloves on.

"Don't worry, you're safe… Can you breathe normally?" he asked with genuine concern, so different from his usual demeanour.

"Definitely not now," she replied, gasping for breath. He felt her heart beating beneath his hand and he couldn't explain why he couldn't take his hand away. He moved it slightly to the left breast, which had consequences for both of them.

The excitement surged through them with redoubled force. Y/N unconsciously tightened her grip on the sheets, lifting her legs just a little.

"Your heart is beating too fast," Kylo gasped, and then she finally managed to open her eyes. Kylo's huge frame was leaning over her, without his helmet, and he was piercing her with such eyes that made her feel small and completely exposed.

"If you keep on doing this… It will," she looked at his hand, still on her bare breast, "it will beat even faster."

Another shiver ran through her, and a strange, tingling sensation appeared in her lower abdomen. Kylo slowly, with little pressure, moved his hand from her breast, along her belly, to the waistband of her pants. He pulled it down and, although she couldn't see it from her position, it was too low for any decency.

The situation was clear to both of them: the tension that had been growing between them for a long time was finally going to explode. He froze in that position for a moment.

"Do you feel okay?" he whispered.

She looked at his hand, then back at him with a soft smile.

"I do… But you could make it better."

A new wave of excitement washed over both of them as Kylo climbed back onto the bed and hovered over her.

He used the Force to take her clothes off of her after she gave him an encouraging nod. Soon, there was no turning back. She lay before him, fully exposed, shackled by so many emotions she couldn't shake off. Something stirred in Kylo as he stared at her shamelessly, admiring what he had revealed. He had been thinking about this moment ever since he met her years ago.

He raised both of his hands to place them on either side of her, keeping himself comfortably above her. He could see that she liked it as she ogled him from underneath, trying to catch a glimpse of his partially exposed chest.

When Kylo lowered himself to kiss her once again, everything around them disappeared. Flesh began to rub against flesh, and their hearts began to beat in the same rhythm. Y/N buried her hands in his hair, and with one hand he lifted her by the waist, holding her as close to him as possible. When the frenzy subsided enough for her to regain some rational thought, after what felt like an eternity, she tore her mouth away from him and pulled his head towards her.

"I want you, Kylo," she whispered straight into his ear. She made Kylo feel things that he never thought were possible.

He moved closer to her ear, brushing his lips against it and whispered, "You'll get what you want."

He removed the hand that was supporting her waist and moved it to her right knee. He slowly moved one of her legs to the side, then did the same with the other. There was another burst of emotions, and she clutched the sheets again. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to move.

He used the Force again, this time to get rid of his own pants. Y/N knew he was ready and she couldn't wait. Everything else was forgotten, the only thing that mattered to them was the other person. Kylo moved his hand under her waist again to lift her a little, and placed his other hand on the headboard of the bed. He lowered himself, she moaned, and the clock struck midnight. He filled her up to the brim, much larger than she was, able to hold her like a doll. She didn't even expect him to feel half as good as he did.

Kylo waved a hand, putting out all the lights in the room. Their other senses went crazy. He couldn't believe the effect her moan had on him when he jerked forward for the first time. The lack of light captured the imagination of both of them, stirring the blood in their veins.

No one could hear those heavy breaths, moans and whispers, the rustle of the sheets, not even the moon was a witness to them, hidden somewhere behind the clouds from which white fluff was falling. It was just the two of them, darkness and pleasure like they had never experienced before.

And Y/N had a feeling it wasn't the last time she could wake up to this.

#kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo smut #kylo x reader #star wars #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo smut #Star Wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #smut #kylo ren fanfiction #one shot

[signed-sapphire]

The Fallen Star ✨ Wish Reimagined

Chapter 3 - The roses

Tw: nightmare, fire, small prick I guess? it's a thorn, swearing as always, it's Asha and by that I mean it's me

Chapter 2

Asha is burning.

She's screaming, she's being crushed. The crackling of fire echoes in her ears, drowning out her own cries.

Everything is bright, but there's a single pair of eyes staring at her from behind the flames.

(Imagine something like this shot from The Owl House)

The creature tilts its head, its expression unreadable. It emits a series of musical tones, like a melody woven from starlight and moonbeams. Asha feels a strange pull, as if the creature is trying to communicate with her through some arcane language she can't quite grasp.

The roof caves in and crashes down, obscuring Asha's view of the figure. The collapse pushes the rubble further into Asha, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Someone pulls the rubble off her. She wants to yell. Watch out! You'll get crushed too!

They say something. Asha can't hear them. She wants to reach out. Stay with me. The words are on the tip of her tongue. Her throat is parched.

Don't go back in! she wants to cry. Someone's in there!

Why are you leaving me—

She wakes with a gasp, something flat and wet catching the inside of her mouth.

Asha hacks. Valentino had accidentally licked her tongue.

She wipes her tongue and takes a moment so her eyes adjust to the darkness. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, she can make out the familiar details of her bedroom. But with it, she can also see the memories of the dream, crisp and fresh in her mind.

The feeling of panic, of helplessness... she won't be able to fall back asleep, not with the echoes of their screams still haunting her.

This was bullshit. She shouldn't be affected this much by a stupid book. It was just a light.

Asha gets up. She does not tremble.

She unties her hair scarf. Valentino raises his head, his cheek fluff smushed flat from the blanket.

Asha smiles softly and pets his velvety ear. Val bleats quietly, and Asha kisses his forehead.

"Stay here, baby," she whispers, grabbing her cloak. “I’m going for a walk. I'll be back in a bit. Go back to bed, okay?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The air is cold, but the crispness is a shock to her system that Asha desperately needs. She decides to head to the gardens.

She smiles softly as she remembers the gardens of her childhood. They had roses there, too. Asha used to paint the white ones red.

Red like fire.

Asha hurries on.

She tucks her hands inside her cloak pockets as she walks across the checkered-grass floor. Asha stops at a pocket of daffodils, walking between them and sitting down, careful not to disturb the petals.

Asha watches the flowers dance in the wind, effortless and elegant. She brushes her hand along a row of them.

Right before she reaches the end, she pricks her hand on a thorn. Asha swears under her breath, pushing back the flowers to see a single strewn white rose laying amongst the crowd.

Asha picks it up and stares at it in distain. At a glance one might gloss over it. Even now, a drop of crimson blood painting the petals, the rose blended in quite well with the daffodils.

But up close, it wasn't fooling anyone.

Asha plucks off the petals and tosses away the thorny stem, watching the wind carry the petals... and something else, too. A quiet conversation, approaching Asha's location.

“Baz, I told you, it’s fine, Dahlia just wanted us all there.”

“Argh, but what if we get caught?” came the responding whisper. “Safi, I– I–”

“Hey, breathe,” Safi whispered. “We’re al– a– ACHOO! Why are there so many flowers?”

“Hehe. We’re in a garden…”

“Heh. Made you laugh.”

Asha rolls her eyes and makes her way out of the flowers, making sure her footsteps are heavy enough to catch their attention.

“Eep! Your nose gives away your lies! Hide, Safi!”

“Oof!”

Asha rounds the corner, and Bazeema hides her face as the bush next to her sneezes.

"Ah. Bashful. What are you doing here?” Asha asks, entertaining the other girl’s silly fantasy.

Bazeema peeks open her eyes and lowers her hands. “H-hi, princess. I- I –”

“Speak properly.”

“I–” The girl swallows. “I like to come to the gardens to get inspiration for my designs,” Bazeema squeaks out. “I’m a weaver. My hijab this morning– I made it myself. I’m actually really proud of the design–”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t care,” Asha says. “What are you doing out at this time?”

Bazeema blinks. “I, um… couldn’t sleep. I was worried about Hal.”

“Pfft. Worried?” Asha smirks.

Bazeema looks firmly at the princess. “Yes," she whispers.

Asha frowns. “Right. Uh. Sorry... that your friend is now depressed.”

“Hal has been through a lot, and yet she still smiles. It’s… a trait I admire about her.” Bazeema’s face takes on a wistful look.

Asha is about to respond, but then the bush sneezes again.

“Welp! Time to go, oh I am rather exhausted! Maybe I need that spindle idea of yours!” Bazeema peeps, ushering Asha out of the gardens. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, princess! Sweet dreams!”

The gates slam in her face.

Asha blinks.

She entertains the idea of throwing Bazeema out the castle windows.

(Can't find the gif, but Bazeema is the old man that Emperor Asha would punish for throwing off her groove)

“So, you admire Hal, huh?”

“Oh, shush, Safi!”

The sound of footsteps retreat. Asha pushes open the gates.

“That was shady,” Asha says, pulling her cloak hood over her hair and shadowing the two teens.

She sneakily follows the two teens to the chicken coop. She peeks around the corner to see the seven teens holding candles and quietly catching Bazeema up to speed.

“I fell asleep in while cleaning my dad’s armour, and I heard something." Sleepy's voice.

“It nearly killed me!” Gabo huffs. “Abuela told me to go see what was causing a ruckus. That could've been the last she saw of me!”

“Baaaaa!”

Asha covers her mouth with her hand to silence her yelp as Valentino pops up beside her. “Jeez, baby! You scared me!” Asha whispers, pulling the goat close.

Dario signs something, not paying attention to the conversation.

“We trapped it inside the coop, but it’s scaring all the chickens,” Safi says worriedly.

I think they're performing an opera, Dario signs, grinning.

Gabo stares in disappointment at his friend, then moves on. “That’s why we sent you to get Bazeema. You’re worrying about the birds too much when you’re here,” he grumbles to Safi. “They’ll be fine.”

“The chickens probably think it’s a fun surprise,” Hal offers. “They sound like they’re having fun.”

“And why wake us all up for this?” Dahlia yawns. “Dario, put the soap down. Where did you even get that?”

It flew out of the coop! Dario grins. He signs with one hand, spelling out some words since the other hand is occupied with holding the bar of soap. I think the chickens laid it. It smells like apple. Hey, do you think this is related to the S-

"Dario, for the last time, spoons cannot be ingested," Dahlia says, massaging her temples while Safi takes the soap from a frowning Dario.

Simon looks nervous. “Well… my papa’s one of the bookkeepers for the castle. I think I know what’s in there—”

Suddenly, Valentino wriggles out of Asha's grasp.

"Valentino!" Asha whisper-shouts as the goat and runs towards the teens. Dario notices the blur of fluff heading towards him and stumbles back, dropping his candle and colliding with Simon, who's already snoring against the wall.

The impact shakes the wooden support beam, and a pile of baskets falls down on Dario’s head. Bazeema yelps and swats at the baskets, crashing into Safi behind her.

The two fall down, almost knocking over Dahlia, but Gabo pulls her out of the way and stomps out the fire Dario's candle lit.

"Okay, spy! Reveal yourself before I do something I won't regret!" Gabo snaps. Dahlia shushes him.

Asha rolls her eyes and pulls down her hood, stepping into the light. The teens' eyes widen, and they scramble up, quickly dropping into a bow.

All except Dario, that is. He was still peering into the chicken coop.

Hal pulls her friend into a bow.

(I can't find a picture but it's like that part in the movie where the seven teens bowed down to Queen Amaya)

"Threatening a royal, Grumpy?" Asha tuts. "Keep it up and I'll have your friend's precious chickens filleted."

Gabo snarls, but stays quiet.

"Now, care to tell me why you stole my goat?" Asha asks. "And what are you doing by the chicken coops when you should be sleeping?"

"None of your royal business," Gabo mutters.

Suddenly, a burst of sparkles poofs out from the crack under the coop's door.

Safi kicks over a pile of baskets. "Whoops! I am so- so-- ACHOO!" The baskets kicked up some hay in the air. "I am so clumsy!" he laughs awkwardly, sniffling.

"What are you hiding?" Asha demands.

"Nothing! And no one!" Safi says quickly.

"Well, we should all head to bed! You too, princess, your otousan would be very cross if he saw you out this late!" Dahlia smiles, moving to direct Asha away.

There's another poof, and a discord of musical instruments.

"Magnus?" Asha scoffs. "I can deal with my adopted father. Now out of the way."

Dahlia looks desperately at her friends. Asha storms past her, shoving away Hal when she tries to stop her.

The princess yanks open the wooden door. Inside the coop is a crazy sight.

Dario smirks, self-satisfied.

Chickens, dancing, doing ballet

Angry chickens in bisexual lighting

Chickens, shooting out eggs out of PG-hidden cloacas

Chickens, juggling their eggs

And in the center, conducting them all...

The thing was round, with eyes shaped like a sparkle and an oval respectively, five points sticking out of it like little limbs.

Exactly like the symbol on the spellbook in Magnifico’s study.

“Oh, fucking hell," Asha swears.

Author's Notes

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I hated writing this. I was just stuck, and then I was like, fuck it, I'm posting it because the next chapter I'm really excited to write. Because if I add more, then the cut-off would be... too harsh? I don't know. My phone is broken so I can't create gifs right now akjdkjajksjskjksaj fuck it. Post.

Btw, Star in The Fallen Star looks like this:

With a sparkle on the (our) left and a "regular" oval for the other eye on out right.

GET READY! THIS CHAPTER SUCKED BUT THE NEXT ONE SOMETHING BIG HAPPENS AND IT IS A LONG ONE!

Me to my own writing

#the fallen star au #asha x star #asha #star x asha #disney wish #wish 2023 #human star #princess asha #starsha #the fallen star fic

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Love all of your stories and prompt responses! I have one for you, if you're interested.

This are getting hot and heavy between Lucifer and his s/o when they suddenly need to call a time out. Nothing bad exactly has occured, but maybe things are escalating too quickly and they need it to slow down, or even "I'm not as ready for this as I thought I was..." How would your Luci react?

(I find writing/reading stuff with my comfort characters to be very cathartic. So while I'm sure we could guess Lucifer's response to this prompt, maybe someone needs to see it.)

Oh honey, I love this one! I can imagine this perfectly.

You and Lucifer are making out, and it's getting pretty intense. Neither of you are fully naked but a few pieces of clothing have already been tossed. But your heart is pounding out of your chest, your hands feel clammy, and you feel like you could pass out at any second. Your eyes shoot open, and you double tap Lucifer on the arm. He immediately pulls away from you.

"What's wrong, love, is everything alright?" he asks sweetly. You try to answer him, but you're having a hard time catching your breath. You're hyperventilating. It was too much. Lucifer's expression shifts to worried. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "Hey, hey, shh, it's alright, it's okay. Breathe for me, darling." Your breath slow as you sink into his embrace, trying to hide your choked sobs.

"I-I'm so sorry," you mumbled. "I thought I was ready, b-but...Lucifer, I'm so sorry..."

Lucifer doesn't let go of you. He begins to stroke your hair gently. "Oh, my sweet angel, you don't have to apologize. Please don't cry." He lefts your head away from his chest and wipes the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. "I'm sorry that I went too far. I never want to see you cry. We can stop now. We won't do this again until you say so, alright? I love you, please never doubt that."

You nod and lean back into Lucifer's chest, holding him tight against you. "Thank you," you whispered. "I love you more. I don't deserve you."

"Ahh, that couldn't be further from the truth, my dear," Lucifer spoke softly. "It is I that doesn't deserve you."

#ask #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #this is was a sweet ask i loved it!

[rainofthetwilight]

LEVI I WANNA GIVE YOU TRAMUA ABOUT ARIN

So, we all know that Arin is struggling to improve his spinjitzu and he feels useless and just wants his parents back.

…He feels jealous. And we know that he doesn’t have an elemental power according to Doc Wyatt.

And he will *probably* fight Sora if he finds out that Sora “helped” his Object Spinjitzu.

What I see from Arin is that he is slowly getting traumatized..

And I have multiple questions from where Arin’s arc is going.

My biggest question is, is the ninja holding Arin him back or his parents holding him back? I think it both.

Not to mention that there is so much foreshadowing to Arin’s arc.

And why do I imagine Arin is just trapped in like, a cage full of insecurities, or trauma? And I can imagine that he can’t get out of that cage.

Ras said that Arin is not improving since the first time they met, Egalt said that Arin is useless, Sora is improving and might be able to learn spinjitzu, and most importantly, Lloyd’s and Arin’s relationship is slowly falling apart like Wu and Morro.

My poor Arin is just having one HECK of a trauma here. And I swear to the Fsm if the writers gives Arin has even more trauma in season 2 part 2 than part 1 I will throw a chair.

But who knows…? Someone said that it was a cannon event that every sunshine character has an angst arc.

Sorry for making you insane, Levi I just wanted to share this idea with you just for fun.

And also, do you think that Arin is going through 5 stages of grief or..? Idk, I wanted to ask you and tell me what’s your thoughts on this.

AHDHAJDBJAJDJAJSNANA YEAH I'M. I'M NOT OKAY RN 👍👍👍

also absolutely do NOT apologize for making me insane I am literally loving these asks so much bro SHDJAJDJW 😭 I love analysing silly lil lego characters w/ you all <333

the thing about the foreshadowing is that it actually feels very intentional, like obv I know foreshadowing is pretty much always intentional but like..you get what I mean?

they are constantly reminding us how much of a great person arin is, in s1 especially. he's a good friend, he's kind, he trusts people quickly, always has that hope in him and so much more. something is definitely going to happen, even if the whole sora helping him thing didn't happen, he is going to be put through the wringer whether if he actually gets an evil arc or not

plus, he already is traumatized. loosing your parents and neighborhood all in one day while navigating an entire new world with so many new places and people on your own (at first) , while only being atleast 10 years old, is pretty traumatizing all in itself. but even after all of these years, he still had hope, he still had hope that his parents and heros could come back. and guess what? his heros did come back, and what did he exactly say again?

''if I loose hope the ninja could come back, then I loose hope that my parents could come back."

even after the ninja came back, his parents didn't. all these years he relied on his hope for the ninja to come back to bring his parents back aswell, but their whereabouts are still unknown. add that to the extreme pressure of saving the world from ending and the amount of self doubt he has, that's when the shell of his hope finally began to crack

in s1, the return of the ninja gave him even more hope than he had before. he was still excited and animated, and finally got his dreams to come true (becoming a ninja). the thought of his parents holding him back didn't plague him as much as now, because that hope in him was still there and it only grew stronger each adventure. but now, even after a long while since the ninja had came back, his parents were nowhere to be found. and that just hurts

dude the insecurities part AGHDJS...the weight of being a ninja was finally becoming heavy on his shoulder and that only added to his frustration and anger of not being good enough. he sees his friends around him improve, and be useful in a way, unlike how he had failed time and time again without achieving results. and with egalt calling him useless and ras constantly reminding him how he still hadn't improved, and he feels jealous even tho he doesn't want to, and it just made everything worse.

I'm also thinking abt how sora accidently reminded him of how he didn't imporve aswell, by saying "your spinjitzu is just as good as when I met you!". and even though she meant it in absolute good faith, that's just it to arin. that's it, he was still in the same level he was the first time, he didn't improve. and with how he got angry at her when she was only trying to cheer him up after what happened, I can't even imagine what would happen if the news of that spinjitzu throw help thing comes out

ALSO. ARIN GOING THROUGH THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF. DUDE NOW THAT I THINK ABT IT..

anon had also sent an ask abt this too!!!

so like, now that I actually think abt it, what if that hope was actually just a cover of his denial? the five stages as we all know are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance in that order. so like...what if that hope wasn't really hope, but instead a disguise for denial?

whenever the topic of his parents came up, especially in s1, he kept denying the fact they wouldn't come back. same with the ninja, he still believed they were out there

and now in s2, we see his self doubt and his trauma catch onto him. we saw how angry he was at himself, even to the point of shoving lloyd away when trying to comfort him and almost snapping at sora when she was trying to do the same. we don't see much of that 'hope' like in s1 anymore. it's much more..sadder, more angrier even

and with all this, he's most definitely going through them, now on the second stage. first in denial of his parents and the ninja not returning, and now anger at himself and the world for hating him like this

when I tell you I am so so excited to see what they do with arin's arc w/ all of this going on for his character I am not lying bro, I'm so insane AHDJSKDJJW 😭👍

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #dragons rising spoilers #ninjago arin #levi's asks #ty for the ask! #levi's analysis #also sorry it took a while to answer these asks!! school's been kicking my ass 👍 (and final exams r in like 2/3 weeks 😭)

[nkirukaj]

The Radio Demon & the Billboard Doe (14)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activity

Genre: Angst/Fluff & SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 8.1K

14. Look at Me

Voe wakes up bright and early at around 10 AM (progress okay?), she enjoys the time she spends doing her makeup, so she decided to add some small earrings to her new ears. Her makeup was light and casual, but just enough to feel in control of herself. She pranced down the stairs with delight and spotted everyone in the parlor conversing and having a grand old time. She spots Angel in the crowd and skips up to him, hugging him from behind.

He’s shocked and caught off guard by this display of affection.

“What the hell- Oh hey,” he turns around inside of her embrace

She looks up at him with bright eyes “Hi,” she says happily

“Uh, did ya need something?”

She nods “I needed to say ‘thank you,’”

He blushes slightly “Oh, no problem. You doing okay?” She nods again “Yes,”

“Good,” he rubs the back of his neck and smiles at her

“You’re such a good friend,”

“I was just, helping out..” he sounds nervous but flattered

“Yeah, that’s why you’re a good friend”

He ponders “Yeah, I guess so,”

She hugs him tighter, placing her head on his torso, and smiling, he hugs her back, placing his head on top of her head.

“Awww you guys!” Charlie spots them hugging “That is so sweet!”

They pull back “Whatever,” Angel flips down his shades “I’m going to work,”

“As am I darling,” Voe fakes a British accent “So long!” as they head out the door

Voe has to walk twice as fast to keep up with Angel. “So I have something to tell you,”

“Okay?”

“So..remember I was telling you about my rut?”

“Mhmm,”

“And then you said I should try and fuck somebody?”

“Mhmmm,” he raises an eyebrow

She takes a deep breath before saying “I had sex with Lucifer,”

He raises his shades to look down at her “First off, not really surprised, but look at you!”

“Yeah yeah yeah, but that’s not it,”

“Well, what else?”

“Afterwards, I wasn’t really…I don’t know how to say it…but I guess satisfied?”

“He didn’t make you cum? OH shit!”

She shakes her head “No, he did. Multiple times, actually. But…you know how sometimes, you get hungry and then you eat something, and it’s good, but then when you’re done, you know that’s not the thing you wanted to eat?”

“I guess?”

“Yeah, it felt like that.”

“Maybe you wanted to fuck someone else?”

She nods “I thought so too. So I had sex with Velvette.”

His eyes widen “Uhuh…?”

“Still the same thing.”

He tilts his head “Well that’s good, cuz you wouldn’t want to be with her like that anyway.”

She looks around “Yeah, but I don’t know what to do.”

“Keep fucking everyone until you find the right one?”

She rolls her head back “Yeah, but that’s exhausting!”

He shrugs “I don’t know, but I gotta go. Good luck with your sex journey.”

She purses her lips “Be safe,” 

“You too, love,” he salutes her jokingly and walks through the doors to Val’s studio. Voe takes a breath, watching him leave before heading up to Velvette’s. 

Alastor sat in his room caressing his cheek. Her handprint was gone, but he could still feel the heat of the flame from her palm. Alastor hadn’t felt anything as invigorating as that slap. The conversation came back to mind, the intensity, the yelling, Voe being able to stand her ground against him…

Alastor was a truly refined man, but the months of October through December always tested his resolve. Whenever he was closest to losing control, it was during those months. He was constantly warm, his muscles tense, his breathing heavy, skin sensitive, and his heart rate faster than it had ever been when he was alive. His face burned as thoughts of carnal desires raced through his mind. He felt ashamed and somewhat disgusted with himself, he found himself to be above such things that drive other sinners wild, above their frivolous desires and weaknesses, but every year this time got to him. He usually sequestered himself around this time to make sure he can control himself. Nowadays he couldn’t do that, he was always needed and every time he left his room there was a chance to run into…her.

She’d been a thorn in his side since the very beginning, but her smell was addicting, and every moment spent in her presence was a moment to watch her in action, doing things. It was hard for him to explain, but he felt drawn to her, it was involuntary, magnetic, a compulsion to watch everything she did. Whether it be standing, walking, dancing, or just talking; while watching her he felt…happy? Maybe excited? Something about the movement of her waist and, pardon his French, derrière drove him up the wall with joy. Though nothing could compare to her lips; as he told her they were quite plump and soft-looking, perfectly round, and two contrasting but perfectly complimentary colors. They looked perfectly sculpted by an expert artist. When he watched her he felt like he had walked into a living art museum, and she was her own exhibit. She brought him joy. Simply put, she was beautiful, gorgeous, stunning. 

Engaging with her was frustrating, she was strong-willed and would never back down from him, her smugness and cockiness infuriating but exciting. Her behavior was interesting and her thoughts showed that she may be worthy of equal footing to him. He wanted to know more, wanted to get closer. Perhaps physical? Maybe a pat or a holding of her arm? Her waist?

Being around her made this time much harder. Adding to the physical reactions and the inappropriate thoughts, were thoughts of her. Daydreams or simple imaginations. And sometimes…the thoughts would mix. Thoughts of her helping him out and providing him with her…company. Then he would see her in person and it would be quite difficult to keep those thoughts from resurfacing. Like he said, every year around this time he would seclude himself, but being around her made him not want to. 

Entering Velvette’s studio she saw Velvette of course, looking through papers on a clipboard. Sitting in the corner of the space was Vox; stewing on his chair as he looked her up and down with contempt then made a show of looking away from her. She darts her eyes away from the man to focus on her boss.

“Ah! There you are! Good morning darling!” Velvette embraces her and kisses her on the lips. Voe nervously glances toward Vox in the corner, who only glares at her more and more angrily. “Just the doe I wanted to see. I have big plans for you, love!”

“Uh Velvette? What’s with flat screen over there?”

She glances back at Vox “Oh, him? He’s just here to help me with advertising,”

“Advertising what?” “Well, that’s the news! I’m planning a runway show. Starring you! And I want you to help me plan it!”

She widens her eyes “Really? Why?”

“Well, I based it off of you, so who better to help plan it? We’re going to recruit some more models that look a bit like you for this, but of course, there’s no beating a fucking original!” She grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her

Vox scoffs from the corner of the room “I could think of people,”

“Oh hush Vox! We’re done talking, you can leave now!”

Vox stands to his full height and exits the studio, glaring at Voe all the way out.

“Uh, what’s his problem?” She asks her boss

She shrugs “Ever since the interview, he thinks you’ve been lying to him about the Alastor stuff. I won’t let him hurt you but, watch your back.” She puts her hand on Voe’s shoulder 

“Yikes,” Voe pulls at her collar

“Anyway!” she claps “We have so much work to do.”

They discussed the clothing designs and the sizes that should be offered, and Velvette allowed Voe to pick the model candidates while caressing her thigh.

“You know you could stay here,” Velvette whispered in her ear “Since we have so much work to do, and we’ll be spending so much time together. I thought maybe you’d consider just staying here with me. We could have a whole new room made for you….” she draws circles on her thigh “Or you could sleep in my room with me,”

Voe clears her throat, smiling “Thank you, I will consider it.”

Velvette seems quite offended at the lack of a ‘yes’ “Whatever,” she rolls her eyes “Oh! By the way, Vox also wanted to know if you had any more information on the Red Beast?”

“Umm? He brought me home after the disaster at the club,” she offers

Vox immediately kicks down the door “HE WHAT?!”

“My DOOR! DAMMIT VOX!” she rubs her forehead “She’s saying that Alastor brought her home from the club.”

Vox grins “Oh did he?”

“Very interesting isn’t it?”

She drops her hands to her sides and purses her lips “Yeah, when I woke up I was in my bed. He said that he carried me and tucked me in. He even gave me a glass of water.”

Vox and Velvette grin at each other devilishly. “Really? Is there anything that he said in particular? Anything you two talked about?”

“Like what?”

“Anything at all?”

She puts her finger on her chin “We talked, but about a lot of stuff.”

“What did you talk about? Tell us everything.”

“Well, he mostly kept asking why I licked him-“

Vox laughed out loud “H-HA HA HA. I’m sorry, You licked him? Why-Never mind I don’t care. Anything else, my dear?” He’s suddenly looking down on her with happy eyes 

“Uh, yeah. I…kinda slapped him..”

“Really?” Velvette asked. Voe nods “And you’re still alive?”

She looks down at herself “Alive as I can be.”

“Someone’s going soft,” Velvette glances at a grinning Vox “Anymore?”

“I… asked why he wanted to do radio.”

“Really?” Vox leans down, grin getting wider “What did he tell you?”

Vel scoffs “Better not be anything sentimental and boring,”

“Uh, then you’re gonna be disappointed,”

“Ugh,”

She takes some time to recall “He said, it was because, on the radio, your looks don’t matter, as long as you have the voice.” She smiles to herself thinking of his poignant words

The air is silent before Velvette and Vox break out into manic laughter, Vox especially. 

Vox wipes a digital tear from his eye “I’m sorry, is that all?” he straightens his tie

Voe is unsure of what was so funny, but she guessed it wasn’t a joke for her to get “Uh, yes. That’s all,”

“Alright,” Vox says, standing tall “Velvette?”

“I know what to do,” she says, typing into her phone “Okay, you’re dismissed.” She waves Voe away, and the doe gets up and leaves. She heard their cackling through the closing door.

____________________________________________________

“So, everyone is probably wondering why today’s activity is at night, and that is because my dad,” Charlie gestures toward Lucifer “Is so busy during the day and he wanted to join the activity. So let’s give my dad a round of applause,” the resident’s clap for their King, Voe especially

“Amazing parenting,’ she jokingly says toward Lucifer, who is sitting next to her, with his hand on her thigh

Charlie seems slightly put off by it but continues on anyway “Tonight’s activity is simple. We’re just going to say how our days were, and our favorite parts. And we’re gonna go popcorn style, so whoever wants to go can just go!”

“I’ll go,” Angel pipes up from the other side of Voe

“Oh wow, Angel! That is amazing! Go ahead!”

“Woo Angel!” Voe cheers for her friend

“Well, the good news is that I finished work early, and my favorite part was that I scored some heroin.”

Charlie’s eyes are wide “Not exactly the kind of news I was looking for, but great job! Seriously, amazing!”

“Where’d you score heroin? Where’d you get it from?” Voe whispers to the spider

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She nods “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” but he just ignores her

Lucifer clears his throat “I’d like to go next. My day was great because I got to spend it with my daughter and meet new incoming sinners. My favorite part was getting to know them and helping them find a place to stay,”

“Dad! That’s amazing!” The residents clap again

“He’s amazing! Best King I’ve ever seen,” Voe says smiling at him

“Who’s next?” Charlie asks

No one goes.

“C’mon! Don’t be shy!” She scans the crowd “Voe! Why don’t you go next?!”

“What the fuck?”

“Please?” She rolls her eyes “Um, I guess my day was cool. My boss wants me to help plan a runway show-“

“Aw, that’s amazing!”

Voe lightens up at the validation “And the clothing line is based on me and my body type,”

“Wow Voe! You’re really making a name for yourself in Pentagram City! I’m so proud of you!”

The residents clap for her

Angel scoffs “No one clapped for me,”

“Well, I’m just glad that I’m earning more of my boss’s favor, so I guess that’s my favorite part,”

“Yeah, much more,” Angel mumbles under his breath and Voe elbows him

“That’s all.” She smiles at Charlie

“Great job!”

Lucifer whispers in her ear “Great job Ducky, I should reward you later,”

She turns to him and they grin at each other, and she gives him a playful warning look.

Alastor stands a few feet behind the parlor couch where the two of them sit. He glares at their playful joy.

“Guys come on,” Vaggie pipes up “This is part of your redemption, just tell us how your day was. It could literally be one word.”

“I’d love to participate!” Alastor raises his cane

Charlie blinks “Really?”

“Yes of course! We’re all a community!” he shrugs “My day was quite splendid!”

“Okay?” Vaggie questioned, waiting for more

“You did say it could be one word,”

Vaggie’s lips form into a straight line “Okay, thank you Alastor. What an amazing example!” She says sarcastically

Lucifer, the pigeon, has a smug grin as he whispers something into Voe’s ear and she starts to giggle, hitting him playfully. Alastor’s rage grew every second he stared at the two of them, canoodling like they were close friends, or worse, something more.

“Hmm, discussing ways to fix that ‘depression’?”

The whole room grows silent.

“Wow,” Angel deadpans “Talk about douchebaggery,”

Even Husker is surprised at the level of assholery that came out of his boss’s mouth.

Voe turns around, giving Alastor a disgusted look “Alastor, mental health is not something to joke about. Depression is…serious.” She just looks disappointed in him. She turns and comforts Lucifer “I’m sorry Luci, I don’t even know why he would say that.” She kisses his forehead

Alastor looks around to see no comfort in anyone’s eyes “I have things to do,” he says before dissipating into the shadows

Voe wraps her arms around Lucifer’s shoulders

Later that night as Angel was walking back to his room, a familiar cloud of shadow appeared in front of him, they faded away to reveal Alastor, already looking annoyed at his presence. Angel does a double take, seeing no one else in the hallway.

“Holy shit, is this going where I think it’s going? Finally!” he puts his hands on Alastor’s shoulders “Well, I prefer missionary, but-“

“Get your hands off me,” Alastor speaks quietly and evenly, but with much anger behind it

“Okay, maybe it’s not.” Angel drops his hands

Alator stands his cane on the floor “Tell me what you know about Voe,”

Angel leans on one of his legs “What about her? There’s a lot to know,”

“What is happening between her and…Lucifer?” He grits his teeth just saying the King’s name “You agree they seemed awfully close during tonight’s activity, yes?”

Angel smirks “Why do you wanna know?”

“I just do.”

Angel’s amusement rises “Are you jealous Smiles? Is that why you said that tasteless joke back there?”

“I just believe that she can do better,”

“Like you?” he raises his brows

Alastor tilts his chin up “Looking at you, maybe there is a brain up there,” he taps Angel’s head with his cane

Angel swats the cane away “Look, you should really be asking her all this, why you coming to me?”

“Because I did. Now tell me what is going on between them.”

Angel leans against the wall “It’s not my information to tell-“

Niffty scurries up between the two men “Hi Angel, Hi sir! I heard you guys talking! Mommy and the Bad Boy have sexy times! I’ve heard them through the door! It sounded really dirty. I wanted to clean, but they wouldn’t let me in!”

“Oh,” Alastor responds in surprise “Thank you, sweetie,” he pats Niffty’s head “Have a good night Angel!” Alastor calls as he walks down the hall

The spider glances at Niffty “What?” she asks “I hear you in your room too!” she bounces excitedly

______________________________________________________________

A/N: There’s smut a coming!

I think he really wanted some attention today. he told some tasteless joke about depression

🤭😭😂

After texting her boss Voe plugs in her phone, leaving it on the nightstand face down, turning her lamp off, and closing her eyes. If not to sleep then to at least relax herself into peaceful imaginations. 

After barely two seconds of having her eyes closed she felt a cool-ish breeze in her room in the direction that her back was facing, which was odd since her room was usually kept warm. She turns to face her bedroom door, seeing only darkness, with her ears twitching all the while. She picks up one of her pillows and throws it at the darkness, where it reaches a certain point, and then explodes into feathers. She lets out a sigh mixed with a grunt.

“What?”

Alastor opens his crimson eyes and speaks “Hello, my doe”

She was annoyed but couldn’t help blushing at being referred to as his doe. Was he claiming her as his?

“What?” she repeats herself

He takes a step toward her bed “Well that isn’t a very polite way to speak to your…friend.” he says the word like it’s dripping from his teeth

“Yeah? Since when are you concerned with being polite?”

“Since right now, of course. Keep up.”

She rolls her eyes “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you,”

Voe’s breath gets caught in her throat. There is no way he just said that to her. He must’ve meant it in a sick twisted way “Like for dinner? Or a snack?”

He chuckles, clearly amused “Speaking of snacks, I went to look for you in the kitchen and you weren’t there,”

“Obviously, because I’m up here,”

“Yes. Why?”

She crosses her arms “I wasn’t hungry tonight,”

“Yes, I suppose you’ve gotten full off of… apples,”

She raises her eyebrow “What?”

 “Truly, my doe I simply thought you had better taste and better manners than that,”

She stands off the bed and walks over to him “What do you mean exactly?”

“Just that it’s rude to vie for the affection of one man while entertaining another,”

Voe stares up at him in disbelief “Are you calling me a slut?”

Alastor sounds playful “No, of course not! I’m simply saying that I was unaware that you were starving this much for attention. If I had known, I would have obliged much sooner.” He looks at his nails

She squints “Say what you want to say to me Alastor,” her tone turns serious

“There’s something about you. I can’t behave normally when you’re near. I am thrown off kilter and my mind scrambles when you are present.” He turns his head downward “And I can feel it even when you’re not,”

Her eyes pierce into his “And?”

“I smell you everywhere.” He speaks through his teeth

Voe rubs her eyes and stares up at him “What?”

“You are deliciously suffocating.”

“Oh yeah? What do I smell like?”

“Hot, wet, sweet, and…sticky”

“Oh,” she blushes shifting the orientation of her legs

“I hear you’re getting hot and sweaty with Lucifer. I cannot believe that you would do that to yourself. That absolute turkey doesn’t deserve you.” He steps closer to her

“Really? And who does?” She questions somewhat mockingly 

He grabs her waist and presses her against the door “Me.” He says, sounding full of rage and lust

Voe looks up at him, feeling a tingle in her chest “Um, to be honest, I’m really turned on right now..? I’m not sure if you’re doing that on purpose or…”

“Do you actually think that I can just exist normally, with you walking around, acting and…looking like that?

“Like what?”

“All…like that,” he gestures to her face and body 

“Like what?!”

He squeezes her waist “Gorgeous,” he growls down at her 

Her neck flushes, but she bites back “What about you, huh? Am I supposed to just go about my day after you growl in my ear and get all up in my face? “ she waves her hands in her face “Your 7ft tall ass, looking down at me with those sexy piercing eyes, touching me with those long fingers…” she slows down her words “and sharp claws I want you to scratch me with.”

He forcefully shoves her up against her door, the pain rattles through her and ignites a fire in her core.

“Your curvaceous body, begging to be cupped and seized by my hands.”

“Those teeth I want you to sink into my skin,”

“Those lips I crave to feel on me,” his voice lowers in pitch and volume

“Those antlers I dream of holding onto,” 

“You smell amazing,” they both breathe out

Alastor reorients himself, takes a breath, and continues “I should like to make a deal with you.” 

“I will own my soul for the rest of my existence Alastor,” she spoke assuredly and somewhat flatly

“Not for your soul,” he approaches her, cupping her chin, the tips of his long, slender fingers almost reaching the bottom of her eyes. This forces her to turn her neck up to see him “I need something from you.” His voice lowered in pitch and sounded more intimate. 

She raises an eyebrow “You. Need something from me?” She sounded quite incredulous “What?” She crosses her arms, and he drops his hand, her head still angled upwards. 

“I am…in a bit of a rut.” She looks slightly confused. He gestures towards his slightly bigger antlers “A rut.” 

Her eyes widen as she processes the meaning of his words. “Mhmm..”

"I need your company to help me through it. In exchange, I will owe you a favor on your terms," he said.

She snorted. "My company?"

"Yes," he said, dragging the word out and straining his smile as his eyes betrayed annoyance at her lack of understanding. It took her a minute or so to comprehend the truth behind his request.

"Oh! My company! You want me to..." She widened her eyes and grinned slyly, clearly aware that she held the power in the situation despite Alastor's attempts to portray otherwise. She was a bit embarrassed to admit that she didn’t think the Radio Demon would be affected by mating season. "Why me?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. Her smirk grew as she saw the impatience in his eyes and the way he tightened his fingers into a fist to avoid grabbing her immediately.

“You are just the least objectionable option within my vicinity, darling. Don’t think too much about it.” He went back to sounding as though he was performing in front of an audience.  

“Okay but, the ‘great’ Radio Demon never was one to settle for the ‘least objectionable’ option. No, Alastor has to have the best!” She leans into him “Am I the best?” She asks in a mocking tone. 

“Think what you want my dear. Besides, you are a doe. It just makes sense. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Okay…I will give you my company, but in addition to the favor,” she pauses, crossing her arms and placing a finger on her chin. “You have to let me touch you,”

“During..?”

“And after. Indefinitely.” She says, her tone confident and unwavering  “Do we have a deal?” She sticks her hand out to him. 

He squints at her, rolling his eyes, not exactly loving the terms, but considering that he was somewhat desperate and physically needed her at this point, he sighs, “Fine.” And takes her hand, the room lighting up with green as the deal is struck. 

They stand there in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something.

“So how shall we proceed?” Alastor asks, his cheeks the same shade as his eyes

Voe’s eyes widen “Oh you want it now!” she exclaims, Alastor giving a curt nod in response. She looks up at him “Do you not know what to do?” she takes a step toward him

“Well… I’m not exactly sure how to get started.” He says playing with his fingers

“You were around in the 1920s there’s no way you don’t know what sex is.”

“I know,” he hissed at her “what it is. I just haven’t…indulged in that kind of activity.” He looks away from her, and his hands grip his cane as though he doesn’t know what to do with them

Voe’s mouth dropped open, “Are you a virgin?” Alastor doesn’t answer, but turns fully away from her “You’re a virgin!” She whispers with a grin “Hey, turn around” he does “I’m not judging, I’m just flattered that I’ll be your first.” She bats her eyelashes at him

“Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is my dear.” 

Voe’s eyes turn from doe to siren in an instant “Let me hold your cane.” She asserts. 

Initially, Alastor rejects this but is soothed by her humming as she wraps her fingers around the part of it in his hand, and removes it from him, examining it, and carefully placing it against a wall. 

“Sit please.” He obliges, unaware of why he’s even obeying her in the first place. She carefully removes his coat, hanging it on a hanger, humming all the while. When she returns she places her hands on his shoulders.

“You’re so…” she runs through all his qualities “confident. So ruthless, and so powerful.” She faces him towards the mirror “I’m truly honored that you came to me for assistance.” Her hand slinks around his throat, her other hand removing his monocle. Alastor is tense at the touch, but since she is gentle and caring with her fingers, he easily settles and becomes comfortable. 

“To be able to manifest anything, or destroy anyone that comes your way,” she bites her lip and sucks in some air “Never in my life did I meet a man that powerful,” her grip slightly tightens around his throat, while her other hand is sliding down his chest. “It’s so sexy..”

She circles back around to the front of the chair and places both hands on the armrests, standing above him. 

“Can I sit on your lap, Bambi?” She smirks 

Alastor reaches out and pulls her on top of him. “Ooh,” she cooed, placing her hands on his chest “I’m going to take these off okay?” She pinches his vest and shirt. 

“Proceed,” he watches her carefully as she unbuttons and removes the vest, draping it across the back of the chair. When she reaches for the shirt, he grabs her wrist “It seems unfair that you haven’t removed any of your clothing, doesn’t it my dear?” His brows furrowed 

She snickers and pulls her wrist free “Okay,” she smiles flirtatiously and pulls her shirt up over her head, leaving a bralette “Is that better?”

“Much,” his voice bordering on a growl

She makes quick work of the buttons and Alastor tenses before she removes the garment. 

“Everything all right?”

“Everything is…fine.” He looks away from her and she turns him back by his chin

“We can stop if you’re feeling uncomfortable, remember that” he nods once and watches her pull off his shirt to reveal a torso covered in scars. On his chest, his stomach, and even his neck. The largest one from Adam, going from his left shoulder diagonally to the top of his stomach. Voe marvels at them, tracing her hands and fingers over them, eyes wide and lips hanging apart. Her nails were trailing behind her fingertips, leaving a slightly pleasant sting behind. She gets lost in his scars before she looks back up at him, her lower lip between her teeth. 

“Would you like me to take off my bralette?” She whispers

“Your…bra?”

She smiles as if he’s amusing “It’s a bralette” She chuckles

He holds onto her waist as if his life depended on it “Yes,” he stares at her chest intensely as she raises the fabric over her head, freeing her breasts from their caging. Alastor’s neck reddens slightly as his body grows warm, staring at her newly naked flesh. 

“Would you like to touch me here?” 

“Yes,”

She grabs his wrists, placing each hand on a breast gently. He instinctually massages them, feeling her hard nipples against his palms. She shuts her eyes as she pulls her lips in, chest vibrating from her moans. He gets rougher with his touches and her moans get louder. His cock jumps in his pants, against her clothed cunt. The jump opens her eyes and she touches his chest. 

“Stop.” She breathes out “Or I’m gonna cum early” she laughs

She presses her body against his, hugging him, both of them topless. “How does this feel?”

“Fine, my dear” he responds, grateful she cares about his comfort level, but also growing impatient at the slow pace. She can feel his heart racing, and he can feel hers. 

“Do you want to remove your own pants?” She asks, still holding his body against hers. 

“Yes,”

She removes herself allowing him to stand and remove his pants, unsheathing a thick and long beige-ish gray cock with a tuft of red pubic hair above it. 

Voe’s eyes are wide as can be and her eyebrows up to her hairline. 

Alastor starts to feel self-conscious and vulnerable as she stares, “What?” He snaps

Voe blinks “Where have you been hiding that?”

“Under my clothes?”

“Um no, there has to be some sorcery involved, because when you wear clothes you look flat as a board, now I find out you have a whole log between your legs!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, my dear,” he shrugs, his grin turning cocky

She grins “Oh now I’m super excited for this!” She claps, going to remove her pants when Alastor reaches out

“Wait,” And she does. “I would like to do it,”

She wears a wide grin “Okay,” her voice deep and melodic

Alastor bends over to pull her sweatpants down. 

“It’s easier with you on your knees,” her smirk never wavering. She lifts her leg, placing her foot on his shoulder to press him down into a kneeling position which he acquiesces to. Once on his knees he removes her pants and helps her step out of them. Once only her panties were left, he stared at the garment, placing her foot back on his shoulder to stuff his face into her clothed core, taking in the scent that had been taunting him for weeks.

“Ah!” She yelps at the suddenness of his actions. His nose unknowingly stimulates her erect clit “Oh! Mmmfuck…” she reflexively rolls her hips against his face, creating more friction and more drippage that he longs to sniff. “Oh my gosh, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum on your face!” she whispers

He inhales her scent once more before removing the lace garment, seeing trimmed red pubic hair adorning her light brown vulva. He looks up at her from on his knees and she extends a hand to him which he takes and stands to his full height. 

“Oh my gosh, you do have a tail! And hooves!” She announced in shock and delight 

“Tell this to no one,” he states sternly. He clears his throat “Please,”

“It’s cute,” she touches his face “I love your body,” she speaks sincerely at a low volume. She boops his nose and it twitches in response. 

“You can’t love it as much as I love yours,” he drags his thumb down her plump lips. She catches the digit inside her them, sucking on it to her heart’s content. His face turns a similar shade to his hair. For once he was speechless, the rest of his fingers under her chin. His cock twitches in the air, her eyes darting down to view it. With his thumb still between her teeth, she grins. She removes it from her mouth. 

“Wanna bet?”

“Honestly I am…frightened of taking that bet,”

Her grin turns evil “Smart man,” she winks

“So…what now?” He looks around 

She claps “If this is going to happen, you need to take off that radio filter. You’re talking to me, not a mic”

“Okay…” he says without it, squinting at her

“Ooh, that’s better,” she pushes him into a sitting position on her bed “Now, we need to discuss positions.”

“All right,”

“What position would you like to try?”

His face is full of confusion “My dear, I have no idea to what you are referring,”

She chuckles “How would you like our bodies to be while I give you my company?”

“I suppose I shall take the lead?”

“Of course, you will,” she turns her head “Just like a man too,” she jokes under her breath

“Hmm?” He tilts his head

“Nothing!” She claps again “Anyway! There are many positions where you can take the lead. Such as doggystyle/leapfrog, butterfly, lazy dog-“

“You have experience in..all of these?”

She grins “Yes,”

“What do you propose for a..novice like me?” He sounds annoyed and self-conscious at once, not being the one in control

She taps her chin “Hmm. Is there anything specific that you’d like to happen?”

He thinks “Well, I’d love to stare at your pretty face”

She nods “Alright perfect! We can do missionary!”

“Missionary?”

“Mhmm. One of the simplest and most common positions. You probably know of it, just not by its name. Great for a newbie like you!”

She climbs on the bed next to him, laying on her back. “Come.” She orders “You get on top of me,”

“Alright,” 

He crawls toward her, sliding into the space above her. He places his hands on either side of her, holding himself up while climbing on top. 

“Because you want to see my face?” she asks playfully, smiling up at him. “Do you think I’m pretty?” she teases. He doesn’t answer, so she runs her hand through his hair and scratches a spot behind his ear. His eyes widen and his ears stand up, but then relax, as does the rest of his face. His smile becomes less about dominance and more about joy. “Tell me I’m pretty,” she breathes out to him. Finally, he speaks, “You’re quite beautiful, darling.” before he sinks his teeth into the skin of her neck, drawing blood. He licks it up and she moans, liking the pain. 

The weight of him on top of her was comfortable and cold. A nice chill to offset her warmth. He was thin, but not enough to see his bones. She pulled him closer as he bit and licked on her skin, leaving marks all around her neck and collarbone. 

“You’re so cute without your monocle,” she giggles and tells him when he comes up from her neck, still running her hands through his hair, touching and caressing his ears, which were twitching in response. 

“Are you still hard?” She flutters her lashes

“Yes…” he’s looking down at her face, still flushing 

“Let’s be sure,” her eyes are lidded as she drags her tongue across her palm, reaches down and grips his cock, to which he makes a buck grunt. Her eyes light up “Ooh, Bambi likes,” as she starts pumping the shaft. 

Alastor is embarrassed by his animalistic instincts, but the pleasure is too overwhelming for him to care. He’s letting out elk bugle sounds as she pumps him faster and faster, his cock hardening in her hand.

Voe is impressed with herself “That’s better,” She rubs the tip of his dick against her wet folds, causing herself to whimper. She positions it right at the entrance of her cunt, him feeling her wetness leaking out, oh so ready for him. “When you’re ready, just thrust forward, okay?”

He enters her, following her advice. The wet warmth greets him like he is coming back home. His eyes flutter and roll back, Voe closes her eyes, processing the pleasure. 

“You still don’t like me?” She grins devilishly after seeing his reaction, bites her lip and moans. “Still don’t like my attitude?”

He ignores her taunting in favor of checking in with her. He could feel her all around him as he presses through her heat “Are you alright?” He grunts out

“Yes, I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she licks her teeth “Look who’s being gentlemanly.”

“I’m always gentlemanly.”

“Right. Is that in between being creepy and committing murders?” She smiles up at him. He flattens his brows and pushes himself deeper inside her at an agonizingly slow pace. She moans from the sensation, then groans from the pace. 

“Faster please,” she moans with her head back

He grips her thick thighs, his claws scratching against her soft flesh as he pushes himself deeper into her. She pulls his head down into her chest and bites his ear. Another bleat escapes his mouth “Look at me” she growls into the ear she had between her teeth, then lifts his head to leave kisses along his chin and throat.  Alastor grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, her face sprouting a smirk; as he thrusts into her forcefully. 

“Uh..yes. Keep doing that. Fuck…mmm…give it to me please,” She throws her head back exposing her neck. He grabs her chin and pulls her head back down.

“Look at me,” he purrs teasingly 

“I’d love to,” she pulls her arms free from him to wrap them around him and scratch into his back, noticing there were scars present there as well. She surveyed them quickly and decided that her mission was to add some more. She digs her sharp nails into his skin. 

The sensations build up inside them both. He fucks her hard as her eyes roll back into her head. Each thrust felt like it was digging inside, her sweet spot a punching bag for his cock. Once she opens them again, she is met with his face, oh so close and covered in sweat, his red hair sticking to his forehead. A close-lipped smile with closed eyes adorned his face as he was concentrating on doing a good job.

A good job at what exactly? Well, despite Alastor’s initial seeking her out for his own benefit, he’d developed an overwhelming need/desire, to please her. He hadn’t time to think about it, but he supposed he had a desire to maybe prove that he was worth something? That he could be of use to her in some capacity? She’d rejected his protection, as well as his guidance, so maybe she could keep him around for this?

What? No, that thought was dismissed from his head immediately. 

She pushes his hair back and meets her forehead with his, eyes open, drinking in the sight of her face, twisting and contorting with pleasure at every thrust and slap of her clit. She looks into his eyes, and he looks back into hers, visually devouring each other, each basking in the other’s scent, and lips so close they could almost taste each other. 

She snaked her hands through his hair once more, keeping him from being able to move his head or his eyes from her. His thrusts getting sloppier and less refined, both of their legs twitching, inching closer to their climax, him slightly losing control of himself while drowning in her eyes. 

“Don’t you dare stop,” She commands him, her lips brushing against his, while gripping a fistful of his hair. 

He grunts into her neck “I wasn’t planning to,” 

The sweat on their foreheads mixing, she looks him in his eyes “I need you to cum inside me Alastor.” She speaks with such authority, and unaware of why, he felt as though she was in charge. He, the great and feared Overlord, the Radio Demon, felt submissive to this doe that partially came out of nowhere, this common demon, this brat. He couldn’t help but follow the sound of her voice, and watch every movement of her face. The whines, the moans, the movement of her lips, the way her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Normally he was full of retorts, but now he had nothing to say. The feeling of the warm wetness inside her had stolen his words. 

“Alastor,” she whispered his name, snapping him back into focus “Cum inside me okay? Can you do that for me?” She spoke as though she was teaching him something and was making sure he was capable

“We can do that right?” She nods and he nods along with her “Yeah? Yeah, we can do that, right? Mhmm?” She bites her lip as her words turn into moans, and she throws back her head, exposing her neck. He takes the opportunity to drag his thick tongue across it, tasting her skin and the saltiness of her sweat. Her core twitches in response. She wraps her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper, as they both feel their climax edging closer and closer. She lifts her head back up and pulls the buck closer to her body. “I am so fucking close right now.” 

Alastor starts instinctively turning his head to hide the red on his cheeks but she’s having none of that. She grabs his chin and turns it back to face her. “No, you wanted to see my face right? Now look at my face. You think I’m so pretty right? I’m so pretty? Look at my pretty face while you fill me up with your seed. Look at me while you fill me with your cum. Fuck!” She lets out a low hungry groan “Fuck! I need it! Please…please…please cum in me Alastor, please” she begs him softly, her eyes bright and wide. The cognitive dissonance between her innocent appearance and the filth coming out of her mouth was at this point too much for him to handle. 

“My doe,” she looks at him “Guess who’s coming for you,” she raises a brow in confusion, as he grins. With one last thrust, he emptied inside her and her core clenched around him, twitching and holding him hostage, just in case he even thought about removing himself. All this while Voe stared directly into his crimson eyes, their foreheads connected. She then shuts her eyes, letting out a powerful satisfied scream, and grabs his lower lip with her teeth. 

He could feel their combined fluids leaking out into the towel she had placed down and they stayed there in that position staring at each other until the dripping stopped. Alastor was stunned, he had no idea what to do next, this was new territory, him feeling this way. Voe could see it too. She grins wildly at him and rubs her nose against his, which he reflexively reciprocates, his tail gently swishing back and forth. 

“You’re hot when you’re quiet. But you can get off me now.“ though her words were slightly aggressive, her tone was sickly sweet “Unless you wanna keep going, but you look like you’re tuckered out Bambi.” She spoke the last word with a teasing tone, snapping him back to his senses, seeing reality now. He removes himself from her, the air feeling cool compared to her warm insides. 

Alastor turns his head toward her “I assume based on your reactions that my performance was satisfactory, yes?”

Voe breathes heavily “What?”

“Was my performance satisfactory?”

“You want to know if you did a good job?”

“Yes,”

Voe starts giggling as she turns onto her stomach, putting her face into her pillow

Alastor seems slightly offended “I don’t exactly see what’s funny,”

“No one’s ever asked me to rate them before,”

“Just…give me a number off the top of your head,”

“Uh, I guess 7/10?”

“7??”

“A high 7! Almost 8!” She giggles

“Well that’s just unacceptable,” he rolls onto his back “I need a 10/10,” he smirks looking at the ceiling 

“You can try,” she draws circles in the bed with her nail

“I intend to,”

They lay in silence for a few beats, until Voe breaks it.

“Why don’t you sleep? Actually, never mind, you don’t need to answer that. I already know.”

“Oh please, you know nothing.”

“Yeah? You don’t sleep because it’s a vulnerable state to be in and you hate to appear vulnerable. You can’t stand the idea that somebody, anybody might take advantage of your vulnerable position and be able to…I don’t know, defeat you? Sound about right?” She asks turning to lie on her stomach

Alastor’s eyes remain wide open, as he he finally made speechless. The two stare at each other until Alastor says “I will confirm nothing, but if that were correct, I’d wonder how you managed to come to that conclusion.”

Voe snorts “I told you, my dad is a psychiatrist. It’s a skill. I was taught by an expert. So while you can read others, at least those easy to read, I can read you.” She rests her head on her hand

“Tell me something Vera,” he turns to her. She raises her brows in acknowledgment “Why do you not like to eat in front of others?”

She blushes, her eyes looking away “Um.. well I-“ she looks up at Alastor, who gives her his full attention “Sometimes I feel fat,” she mumbles 

“What’s that?”

“You know how I’m like, bigger in terms of my body? Well, sometimes I feel fat and disgusting. Like when I eat in front of people,”

“Are you joking?” He deadpans 

Her eyes dart around “No I’m not joking. Not that being fat is bad for anyone else, I just think it’s bad for me, if that makes any sense.”

“I suppose I understand,” he thought of himself, not in regards to weight, of course, he was quite slender. No, in regards to his ethnicity. He never desired to disrespect his wonderful mother, but throughout his life and even his death, he found it hard to admit to his Blackness. That somehow, made him less than others. But similar to Voe’s ideals, the Blackness in others- case in point, her- was not only acceptable but beautiful. 

She reaches out to touch his body, tracing scars on his chest, when she gets to the big one, he flinches in pain and she says

“That scar,” she points to his chest “You got that from Adam?” It’s a question, but the tone implies that it’s a statement

Alastor doesn’t respond, only staring at her with shame in his eyes, while his smile remained

“I know I wasn’t there when that happened, but I don’t think you’re any less strong,”

“I would like to stop talking about this,”

She stares at him “Okay,”

There is no sound in the room for a few moments. Voe just stares at Alastor as he examines his own chest and the scar on it. He pulls the cover over himself after a few minutes of looking at it. He blinks before saying “I do want to apologize for my…joke earlier. It was very tactless of me.”

“Yes, it was.”

Alastor clears his throat “I’d like to make something clear,” Voe turns to look at him, leaning on her arm “This will be happening again,” he says staring up, lying on his back

Voe turns his face to her “Rude, this is an intimate activity. If you want it again, you need to ask, and you can at least look at me.”

He sits up, clearing his throat again “May I have your company once more?”

She sits up as well “Once?” she smirks

He looks away sheepishly “Many more times,”

She turns his face again, making sure they are making eye contact, at least for a moment “Yes, you may.”

A/N: Ahhh!!! Thank you guys for coming this far with me into my fanfic! This chapter is really special to me because the last giant chunk is one of the first things that I wrote for this story and I am so excited that you all finally get to read it. Let me know what you guys think in the comments down below ⬇️

THANK YOU!!!!!

#headcanon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin angel dust #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel oc #original character #black oc #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel fanfiction #radio demon #alastor #black queer #original female character #oc fanfiction #eventual smut #black protagonist #black writers #hazbin the vees #hazbin lucifer #hazbin velvette #hazbin vox #I'm so happy to finally get to this part!!!

[laracrofted]

baby, i'm high octane (vii)

synopsis: over the course of the last month of the documentary, nora makes some decisions.

pairings: jake seresin x nora rogers (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, all of the usual warnings, swearing, existential dread, spoilers for ocean's eleven lol, smut (like a little bit, oral sex, allusions to sex) (wc: 12.7K)

note: y'all, it's been so long, i'm so sorry 😭 but i hope the ridiculously long chapter makes up for the wait. last chapter before the epilogue woo!

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TAGS: @theharddeck @mamachasesmayhem @bradshawsbitch @hangmanbrainrot @startrekfangirl2233 @kandierteveilchen @lostinwonderland314 @hangmanscoming @t-nd-rfoot @sometimesanalice @dempy @mlibbydp @bellaireland1981 @clancycucumber230 @kmc1989 @averagereader35 @eli2447 @filmflux @bethbunnyy @callsignspark @kajjaka @roosterbruiser @djs8891

Nora spends the whole weekend with Jake.

She doesn’t plan to spend the whole weekend with him. It’s one of those things that just kind of happens, like getting caught up in a good book and realizing it’s been hours and you haven’t moved an inch.

It’s not something she does. It’s more what she doesn’t do.

She doesn’t kick him out on Thursday night as soon as Jake has his pants on, doesn’t push him barefoot in the direction of the door with a Thanks for the sex, come back anytime. 

She doesn’t make up a half-hearted excuse, some reason that she needs to be up early in the morning to keep him from sleeping over.

It’s so simple, really.

She never asks him to leave, and so, Jake stays. 

On Friday morning, Jake brings her coffee in bed. 

She is still half-asleep, sheets all bunched up under her chin, hair fanned messily across the sun-warmed pillows, cheeks flushed. A wide cat-like yawn escapes her as Nora stretches her arms above her head and reaches for the coffee with a slightly hoarse thank you.

Holding the mug in one hand, she rubs the harsh sting of sunshine from her eyes, knuckles creating starbursts on her eyelids, while Jake sprawls across the bed.

He is shirtless, a gold shimmer of chest hair running down his abdomen and disappearing under the black waistband of his boxer shorts. A ripple passes over his ab muscles as Jake stretches out and gets comfortable, searching for her leg through the crumpled pile of sheets.

He strokes a comforting pattern across her calf, across the curve of her knee, and back down again, propped on his elbow to watch her face. 

“How’d I do?” Jake asks, nodding to the coffee. His voice is a low murmur, soft as the blueish morning light that filters in between the sheer curtains.

Holding his gaze, Nora raises the mug to her lips and takes a long, luxurious sip.

She almost sighs out loud. It’s perfect. 

A half-faded conversation from last night pulls at the edge of her mind, muddled by drowsiness and sleep, like a dream.

She was half-awake, already caught in the deep tide of sleep, almost pulled under from the head rush that washed over her in the late hours of the night after Jake kissed damn near every inch of her and got back in line for seconds. A fuzziness in her fingertips, like Nora was taking her first dizzied steps off of the Tilt-A-Whirl at Pacific Park on the Santa Monica Pier, finding her sea legs in the closeness of him; a kind of gravity in the warmth of his chest, pressed against her bare back. 

He wrung another orgasm from her minutes before, and in the afterglow, Nora melted into him like warmed butter, letting out a satisfied hum in the darkness.

Lips warm on her shoulder, Jake asked, “How d’you like your coffee?” 

Her lids were so heavy, and Nora let her eyes close.

“Hm,” Nora hummed. “Guess.” 

He chuckled, and Nora’s lips curved at the sound, at the warm puff of breath on her nape.

“Can’t ever make it easy on me, can you, Hollywood?” 

“Oh,” Nora yawned out. “Not a chance.” 

Jake shifted behind her, closer, and Nora sank further into the warm embrace of his muscular arms around her, so secure and solid. Comforting. Her own personal space heater in the form of a hot Naval aviator. 

Who would’ve thought a man called Hangman would be such a cuddle?

And more, who would’ve thought she’d like it so much?

His fingers tangled with hers as Jake seemed to consider his next words, his guess.

“‘Course not. Let’s see. It’s….” Jake’s lips found the hollow beneath her ear, and Nora breathed a shallow gasp. “What? Oat milk and vanilla?” 

All of the sudden, Nora felt very awake.

Her eyes flew open, and Nora startled, but Jake was too octopus-like around her for her to crane her neck around and look at him. 

“Wow,” Nora said, her raised brows audible in her voice. “Tracking me, Lieutenant?” 

“I’m observant.” Jake shifted again. “It’s part of what makes me a great pilot, sweetheart.” 

And was that a hint of self-consciousness in his sleep-slurred voice? Underneath all of that self-assured confidence and bottomless bravado?

She kind of wanted to see if Jake was blushing.

His fingers flexed around hers, and Nora lightly squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back. Kissed the now-familiar curve of her shoulder and said, “Also, you drink the same thing every day. I’d have a hard time not noticing.” 

“Yeah?” Nora smiled. “You must spend a lot of time looking at me.” 

“Ever since I saw you, I haven’t wanted to look away.” 

There in the dark, Jake’s words sounded like a confession, so open, so sincere.

She drifted off to sleep in his arms, a smile on her face, a pleasant and gnawing ache in her chest.

Now, vanilla and sugar on her tongue, Nora says, “Not bad, Lieutenant.” 

Another sip. Another blissful half-sigh. 

“It’s actually so good,” Nora concedes. “It’s perfect.” 

A smile pulls at the edge of his mouth, and Jake replies, softly, “Good.” 

A quick kiss glances against the side of her knee, and Jake sits up and brushes her hair from her pink cheeks.

She is flushed from sleep; warm from the sun and him. 

He’s sitting so close; looking at her with such open adoration that she feels like she’s burning.

“You’re staring,” Jake drawls with a slow smirk. You have a staring problem. His voice is like the low rumble of a distant summer storm and slightly hoarse, and Nora wants to wrap herself in it like a blanket and sleep the rest of the day away.

Instead, Nora carefully sets the coffee on the nightstand and cupping his face between her hands, kisses him.

For once, she catches him off guard. 

A deep, surprised sound punches out of him – half exhale, half groan. 

She loops her arms around his strong neck, pulling him in, needing to be closer to him. Her fingers brush over the shorter hairs at his nape, curl in the longer strands, damp from where Jake must’ve showered before Nora woke. Dark gold, like a bottle of maple syrup in the sunlight. 

Catching on, Jake bends a hand around the back of her neck and rolls her underneath him on the mattress, following her down, his mouth on hers the whole way down. He swipes his tongue across her bottom lip and into her mouth, and Nora opens for him with a sigh. 

It’s slow and natural. 

Would it always be like this? So easy? she wonders as Jake slides his hand up her side, fingers fanning across her ribcage and higher. Would it be as easy as falling asleep in his arms and waking up to the rich smell of coffee in the morning and kissing slowly like both of them know there will be other kisses, other mornings?

His hand cuts across her abdomen, and Jake covers her breast with his palm, and Nora lets the thought go, like the end of a balloon string, and arches into him. 

There are suddenly too many layers between them.

And impatient, Nora kicks the sheets away and, hooking her leg around his hip, pushes his boxers down and frees his cock. He groans against her mouth, a sweet and rough sound, a reverent sound. 

One hand comes down to hold her against him, rough palm sliding across the back of her thigh and up and up, and Nora shudders against him as Jake runs his fingers through the wetness that’s building between her legs. 

He still has his other hand on the back of her neck, pad of his thumb swiping across her thrumming pulse, and hell, Nora almost wants to reach up and pull his hand around, urge him to spread those broad fingers across her collarbone, across her throat and – 

Another time.

She breaks the kiss and breathes, “Turn over,” against his mouth. 

And Jake – damn him – does this thing with his fingers that makes her brain go blank for a solid five seconds. Like Nora’s been put on airplane mode.

A grin dimples his cheeks as Jake looks down at her, lids low, lips parted just enough to show his teeth. “Now, isn’t that my line, sweetheart?”

She bites down on her bottom lip, holding back something halfway between a laugh and a moan. “Just… get on your back.” 

It’s actually obscene how effortlessly Jake flips them.

He reaches for her again, moving to pull her forward and settle between her open legs, hand around his hard cock, but Nora plants her hands on his stupidly broad shoulders and pushes him back down. 

He could so easily resist her, but Jake lets her lead.

He looks up at her from the pillows with a familiar gleam in his eyes. “What’re you up to, sweetheart?” 

“You know…” Nora murmurs against his neck. “I had something I wanted to do last night.” 

She kisses down his neck, across his shoulders – his beautiful shoulders – and down the center of his chest, memorizing the golden skin and hard muscle in the blue morning. He really is so goddamn handsome. 

His gaze is molten, melted gemstones. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

She moves down his abdomen, admiring the way Jake’s muscles shudder under the soft press of her lips. She notices Jake is holding his breath, and Nora smirks. Good. She wants him a little uneven. 

She looks up at him from under her lashes. “You wouldn’t let me suck your cock.” 

“I was being a gentleman,” Jake argues.

“Well, in that case, allow me to thank you.” 

Nora runs her hand over his cock, stroking him once, twice, and puts her mouth around him, and Jake makes a choked sound, breathing in sudden and sharp, a fragile sound that quickly fades into a broken groan.

“Christ, Nora…” Jake groans, reaching down, his large hand settling on the back of her head, like Jake needs something to ground himself, fingers threading through her hair. 

She hums around him in response, and Jake lets out a breathless, “Fuck,” that’s as flattering as a compliment.

It’s all moans and groans and soft breaths and Nora sweetheart Nora Jesus Christ until Nora looks up at him and murmurs coyly, “Come for me, cowboy,” and half a breath later, Jake finishes in her mouth. 

She swallows with a smug grin, and Jake swears again, his cheeks darkening.

He drapes an arm over his face and lets out a string of breathless swears that make Nora laugh.

“Are you okay?” Nora asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She stretches out next to him as Jake catches his breath.

“I think I might be dead,” Jake mumbles from under his arm, voice muffled, “but good news, I’m definitely in heaven.” He lifts his arm slightly and looks at her sidelong, slanted green eyes full of suggestion. “You wanna be my plus one?” 

Her laugh splits into a gasp as Jake slips a hand between her legs.

The coffee is cold when Nora reaches for it again, finding her breath between sips, resting her head on his flushed, sweat-misted chest, but she can’t bring herself to care. She drinks every single drop.

Saturday comes in a blink, and Nora drags Jake to the farmers market in Little Italy.

Or rather, Nora gets dressed in the morning, trading his oversized button-down for a white shirt and a pair of overall shorts, and starts saying, “So I’m thinking about going to the farmers market if you want…” and Jake immediately grabs his keys, a horseshoe shaped bottle opener dangling from the keychain. 

She loves to visit the local markets of new cities as a way to get to know them.

In San Diego, Nora has made a habit of going to the Little Italy Mercato every other weekend to stock up on fresh produce and browse the local art that’s for sale, a whole spread of gorgeous art prints, ceramics, and glassware. 

A few weeks back, Nora found a handmade pitcher the color of blue bottle-glass and started filling it with fresh farm-grown flowers ever since. A bright spot of color on her bedroom sill. 

It should feel weird that Jake’s there – stepping into this Saturday morning ritual that’s only ever been hers – but it’s actually nice, really nice. 

He holds her hand as Nora walks around the street, wandering an aimless zig-zag between the stands, doubling back for the ones that catch her eye.

Her reusable bag grows heavier on her shoulder, slowly filling with fresh fruits and vegetables and even, a heart-shaped bottle of raspberry wine from a Temecula winery, and Nora’s shoulder begins to ache. She moves the bag to her hand and rolls out the minor discomfort in the muscle.

While Nora is distracted at the flower stand, Jake pulls the bag from her loose fingers and swings it over his opposite shoulder and links their hands again.

At first, Nora doesn’t even notice. She is busy sliding her credit card back into her wallet and clicking the no-receipt button on the iPad screen, but the older woman who is wrapping the flowers for her doesn’t miss a thing. She makes enough fuss for the both of them.

“What a nice young man.” 

Nora almost snorts. She really wants to laugh, but doesn’t want to accidentally offend the nice woman who has no idea of the effect those words will have on the man behind her. Jake nudges Nora’s hip, biting back a grin, and collects the expertly-wrapped bouquet from the vendor. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jake drawls with a dimpled smile so sugar-sweet that Nora could spoon it into a bottle and use it to sweeten her coffee in the morning. Asshole. 

She looks at him sideways, and Jake is already looking at her, a victorious lift to his mouth, like You see? See the sweet old lady who thinks I’m nice?

As Nora wades back into the crowd, a little flushed, Jake leans down and says, “Hear that? I’m a nice young man,” right against her ear.

Now, Nora does laugh.

“Debatable,” she says.

He laughs. His breath is warm on the side of her neck, and Nora feels his lips brush against her skin, against her hair, for the briefest moment. Shorter even, barely even a blink.

It’s a cloudless morning, but Nora holds back a shiver.

I could kiss him, she absently realizes. She wouldn’t have to do anything more than turn her head, maybe raise her chin, and she would be kissing him. She can just do that now. 

She slows at the realization, but Jake is smiling, sun-bright, and asks, “You hungry?” 

She feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the summer breeze, the late morning sun on her freckling shoulders and cheeks. She basks in the feeling, in the buzz of a beautiful Saturday morning that’s brought half of San Diego out into the sunshine. 

Her stomach grumbles, and Nora nods.

“Come on, I know just the place,” Jake says. 

His hand slips out of hers to find the small of her back as Jake leads her out of the crowd.

Back on Coronado Island, Jake drives along Orange Ave for a while before pulling into the parking lot of a cute diner called Starboard Side. 

This must be the place Jake mentioned on the Fourth, Nora realizes, where he wanted to take her on a date. 

She is smiling to herself when Jake opens the blue door for her. 

It’s the very definition of charming. Sun-soaked and eclectic with deep blue wallpaper on one end of the diner – covered in a nautical pattern of anchors, ships, and ocean waves – and wood paneling on the other, painted a bright sunflower yellow. 

She steps around a cluster of people who are waiting around the made-to-order coffee counter, either waiting for their order or waiting for one of the blue stools along the counter to be available, and Jake leads her to a booth in the corner.

“This is the best booth in here. It’s got the best window,” Jake says firmly and also in a way that makes her feel like he is waiting for her to agree with him, like a puppy waiting to be patted on the head. Like Jake picked out the best booth in the diner to impress her.

It’s equal parts endearing and ridiculous, which somehow makes it all the more endearing. 

Smiling, Nora slides in across from him, the sun-bleached vinyl under her legs warm against her bare skin. “It’s beautiful. Do you come here a lot?”  

“I’ve been coming here for years,” Jake answers, “since I was first at Top Gun. It’s the perfect amount of miles from the base for a morning run so I’d run here and back and carb load in between. Do you like pancakes or waffles?” 

“Who do you think I am? Pancakes, of course,” Nora says, and Jake’s smile crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“They’ve got really good pancakes.” 

He slides a laminated menu across the checkered table and points to one of the dishes in the Starboard Combos section, and as Nora follows along with his recommendation, walking her through his go-to orders, her hair slips into her face.

It’s been everywhere all morning, a little wild from the warmth of the day, a little windswept from the sea salt breeze coming off the ocean, frizzing and curling around her shoulders. She almost got fed up and braided it on the drive here, but all morning, Jake has been playing with the loose strands of blonde hair, absentmindedly reaching over and running it between his fingers on the Coronado Bridge, brushing it back from her face in the market check-out line when Nora’s hands were too full to do it herself. 

He’d been doing it in bed too, curling a strand around his finger and complimenting the smell of her shampoo.

Every easy and casual touch sends a little thrill dancing through her stomach so Nora left it down.

She sweeps it over her shoulder and studies the menu.

A smiling waitress comes by to grab their orders and flits over to collect a stack of dirty dishes from the next table over, a spiral notepad tucked into the band of her brightly colored apron. She returns a few minutes later to set down their coffees and is gone again.

It’s just them now. Just them again. 

She stirs the coffee with a metal spoon, oversized ice cubes clinking gently against the sides of the wide-mouth jar. She licks the sugar from the spoon and sets it back down on a paper napkin and watches him.

He rests his cheek on his open palm, curving his other hand around the chipped handle of the baby blue diner mug and watches her back. 

He ordered his coffee with cream and sugar and his eggs sunny side up, and Nora snatches up those little shining details like a magpie. She adds them to the picture of him in her mind.

He likes his coffee a little sweet. He likes pancakes. He likes her.

A golden beam of sunlight slants through the large window at their side, the best window in the whole diner. It’s almost noon, and in the afternoon light, Jake looks relaxed and thoughtful, edges softened, all dimples and laugh lines.

She notices a small hole in the collar of his shirt – barely even noticeable – and Nora latches onto that small imperfection like a lifeline, proof that Jake isn’t something Nora dreamed up. He’s real, heart-achingly so.

“So…” Nora says.

“So…” Jake echoes.

So…

So, what does this mean?

So, what do people talk about on first dates that feel like fifth, sixth, seventh dates?

So so so.

“So,” Nora says again. A complete sentence. She rests her chin on her interlaced fingers, mimicking his posture, half leaned forward, shoulders relaxed. “I have a question for you, Texas.” 

His lips quirk. “Yeah? What kind of question?” 

She dips her chin, lips pursed against a smile. “A very important one.” 

A dimple springs up in his cheek as Jake drawls, “Hit me, Hollywood,” in a voice full of Texas.

“What is…” Nora reaches for her coffee. Draws out the suspense. “…your favorite movie?” 

The corner of his mouth kicks up, and Nora narrows her eyes.

“Careful now. There are wrong answers here.”

“I’m not worried, sweetheart,” Jake replies with a casual sip of coffee, sprawling posture matching his words. “That’s an easy one. It’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Robert Redford and Paul Newman. Got anything harder for me?” 

Asshole, Nora thinks with affection.

A cowboy movie for a cowboy. Of course.

And Nora lets out an approving, “Good movie,” instead of damn. 

Because maybe, just maybe if Jake had god awful taste in movies – like, I respect you less as a person now bad – Nora could pour sand over the sparks that kick to life in her chest whenever Jake’s arm so much as brushes against hers. Damn damn damn.

And Jake’s smile is a little smug, a little knowing. “You like that I like good movies, don’t you? It kinda turns you on.” 

“I’m not answering that,” Nora says, which might as well be an answer, and Jake’s grin sharpens.

She pointedly ignores him, cheeks warm, and sips her coffee. “Is there a story there? Or are you really that much of a cowboy?” 

He makes a noncommittal sound, not ignoring the question, not answering either.

This is a date, not an interview, Nora reminds herself. She doesn’t push.

He brings the mug to his lips and asks, “What about you? What’s yours?” 

“Oh, I – ” Nora makes a face. “I don’t know if I have one.” 

Shaking his head, Jake shoots her a disbelieving look. “You’re not getting out of this one, Hollywood, not a chance. You have to have one.” 

Nora laughs. “I don’t know. It’s all just so subjective. I like a lot of movies for a lot of different reasons.” She gestures to him. “I mean, don’t you? Doesn’t everyone?” 

“Sure,” Jake says slowly, “but you must have a favorite.” 

“That’s what I’m saying. A movie can be a favorite for any number of reasons, like, if you see a movie at the exact right time or maybe, with the exact right person or both, and it’s almost like the movie found you and not the other way around.” 

A half-smile forms on his face as Jake listens to her.

“It’s hard to pick one favorite. How do you compare that – that raw emotional experience – with a movie that’s objectively very good from a craft perspective?” 

“You tell me, sweetheart,” and Jake chuckles when Nora gives him a look. “Alright, what about two movies?” 

“Two?” 

“Yeah.” He holds up two fingers. “Pick two favorites.” 

Two favorites. She can probably do two.

Thinking for a moment, Nora says, “When Harry Met Sally. One, because it’s amazing movie and the best rom-com of our time, obviously.”

She waits expectantly until Jake echoes, obviously, with a smile.

“Two, because I watched it in high school with my mom. I was supposed to go to this pool party that a girl in my grade was throwing for her birthday, but I got super sick, and I was so upset. It was like, all I’d been looking forward to that week. My mom canceled her plans and stayed in with me.” She smiles at the memory. “We spent the whole night on the couch, eating pizza and watching a Meg Ryan marathon on cable. It’s been a favorite of mine ever since.” 

Gaze warm, Jake absorbs this with a nod. “What’s your second favorite?” 

“Ocean’s Eleven,” Nora answers without hesitation. “I was obsessed with George Clooney when I was a kid. I once wrote him a letter and asked him to be my step-dad. He never got back to me, unfortunately.” 

His laugh lights up his whole face. “God, of course you did. How’d your mom feel about that?” 

“She would’ve gotten on board. It’s George Clooney,” Nora says simply, like it’s obvious. 

His foot brushes against hers underneath the table, his ankle slotting into the space between hers, and something about it feels so intimate that Nora almost shivers.

After a moment, Jake offers, “I saw Butch and Sundance with my dad.” 

An answer to a question Nora didn’t ask out loud. 

Surprised, Nora pauses. “Your dad?” 

A nod as Jake runs his hand over his nape. “Austin had this retro movie theater that used to play old movies on Saturday and Sunday mornings for real cheap, like five bucks, maybe even less back then. My football practice got rained out one weekend, and for once, my dad wasn’t working so we went to see Butch and Sundance. It’s probably the best afternoon I ever had with him.” A fraction of the  seriousness washes from his face as Jake winks and adds, “And I’m that much of a cowboy, sweetheart. You should see my Stetson collection back home.” 

A charmed smile pulls at her mouth, and Nora chooses her words carefully. “You’ve never mentioned your dad before.” 

One of his shoulders rises and falls. “We’re not close. He was kind of an asshole even then, always on me about every little mistake I’d make during games, every A-minus that should’ve been an A. He only got meaner as I got older.” He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “My parents split up when I was in high school. He was a real dick to my mom during the divorce, so I don’t see him unless I have to now.” 

“My dad’s an asshole too,” Nora says. “George Clooney would’ve been much better.” 

Jake laughs, and Nora smiles, kind of proud of herself.

The waitress comes back with their food, and Nora slides the plate of blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs in front of her. She carefully unrolls her knife and fork and sets the napkin across her lap. She doesn’t want any crushed blueberry stains on these overalls. 

An unladylike sound almost escapes her mouth at her first bite, and Nora closes her mouth around the sound. 

“You were right about the pancakes.” 

“Of course I was.” 

Nora rolls her eyes, and Jake chuckles.

Washing it down with a sip of coffee, Nora says, “You never told me your second favorite movie.” 

Jake breaks off a piece of whole-wheat toast and dips it in yellow egg yolk. He pops it in his mouth and grinning around the bite, replies, “You already know my second favorite.” 

“I do?” She sets her fork down, already sticky with maple syrup.

He nods, not giving her any hints, waiting for her to catch up with him, to keep up. 

She wracks her brain for any movie Nora had ever heard Jake mention. She can’t think of a single one. She's about to fold her cards and ask him to tell her until – 

“Oh my god. You’re full of shit.” 

“I’m not,” Jake says, amused.

She stares at him, mouth open slightly. “You can’t be serious. Your favorite movies are Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, one of the best Westerns of all time, which has been preserved by the Library of Congress for being culturally significant, and – ”  

“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” Jake finishes with a grin. He cocks his head. “What can I say? I love McConaughey.” 

His smile splits wide open when Nora bursts out laughing.

After, when Nora is leaving the diner, full of good food, Jake walks ahead of her to check the parking meter, and watching him, Nora has the most disorienting urge to walk over and wrap her arms around him. Press her cheek into the wrinkle of soft heather gray fabric between his shoulder blades. Inhale the smell of his cologne like Nora’s done it a million times before.

This is new, Nora reminds herself. It’s so new.

Except when Jake glances over his shoulder and looks for her, green eyes darting down to run over her bare legs, and smiles, wide and affectionate like he didn’t just spend almost two hours across from her, like he could spend all day looking at her and never get sick of it; nothing about it feels new.

It feels like Nora’s already waist deep, right in the middle of something vast and all-consuming, something bottomless. 

And when Jake extends a hand behind him, reaching for her, eyes as green as dew-covered grass, Nora steps into the daylight and links her fingers with his, filling in the gaps, somehow it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Two more weeks pass, and Nora’s with Jake more than she’s not.

He sleeps over so often that Nora clears a spot on the bathroom counter for him to leave a spare toothbrush, and likewise, Jake starts to keep her favorite brands of cold brew and creamer in his fridge. 

Coffee in bed becomes something of a weekend routine.

Once, in his apartment, Jake brings her coffee in a Lone Star State mug, which looks like one of those souvenir mugs you might find in an airport. It’s covered in a patchwork of orange and light blue doodles: a cowboy hat, a horse, a Sheriff’s star.

“Beth bought it for me when I left for my first deployment,” Jake explains when Nora asks him about the mug, running her fingers over the delicate outlines. “So I’d have something to remind me of home.” 

They go on a second date. A third. A fourth. 

He finds a dine-in movie theater in La Jolla that’s doing a 90’s Rom Com series all summer and takes her to a 35mm showing of Clueless, listening attentively as Nora explains the difference between digital and film projection in excruciating detail on the drive there, a smile on his face.

On the mornings that Jake doesn’t stay the night, Nora orders an extra coffee – with cream and sugar – from her favorite coffee shops and meets him on the base a half hour earlier than the rest of the Daggers. She kisses him in the quiet of the Ready Room until 8:00 AM rolls around. 

It’s all meaningful looks and stolen kisses; late night drives with the windows down, the wind in her hair, his hand on her thigh; rolls of film, not yet developed. It’s something for them, something good. 

They keep it under the radar in front of the Daggers.

She’s not worried about them finding out, but Captain Mitchell is an extension of the Daggers, and Nora would really like to keep Aunt Charlie’s ex-boyfriend in the dark about her sex life for as long as possible. Forever, even. 

Also, she still has a month left in her contract, and while she’s pretty sure the Naval magazine wouldn’t fire her for sleeping with one of the film subjects in a documentary like this one, she’s not so sure that she wants to put it to the test.

So, for now, under the radar it is. 

After the Fourth of July, Javy officially gets his orders to report to Maverick's squadron. He goes back to Lemoore to wrap up some loose ends with his old C.O., and Jake meets him there the next weekend to drive a U-Haul back down.

And Nora emails the magazine and lets them know that the documentary will have one more Dagger. 

Nora has more than enough time to weave him into the narrative of the film, and anyway, Javy is an official member of the squadron now. He is as much part of the story of the squadron as the other Daggers. 

Plus, Nora hasn’t forgotten how excited Javy was about the film. It’ll be seamless, her version of rolling out the red carpet for him.

On his second day, Nora pulls him aside between drills and sits him down in front of the camera.

It’s a good interview, which doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. He’s a lot like Jake in that way, effortlessly funny and charismatic with a glowing movie star smile. Her cheeks hurt from smiling by the end of the interview, completely and thoroughly charmed. 

After, Nora walks back to the Ready Room with him, and Javy asks, “How was that?” 

“Super good,” she tells him. He holds the door open for her, like a gentleman, and with a smile, Nora crosses the threshold ahead of him, looking at him over her shoulder. “No, but really, it was great. You’re a natural.” 

On the couch, Jake grumbles, “I thought I was a natural,” and Nora swats at him on her way past.

Everyone gathers at the Jake’s apartment later that night to eat some pizza and watch a movie.

Nora is curled up on the opposite end of the couch as Jake with an unsuspecting Bob between them. At one point, Jake looks around the room and stretches his arm casually over the back of the couch, and Nora feels him fiddling with the end of her braid.

She hides her smile in her next sip of white wine.

She is peacefully watching the movie, drinking the wine and sharing a bowl of extra-butter popcorn with Bob when Natasha comes back from the bathroom and plops down on the carpet again with a smirk on her face.

“Hangman.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s nice of you to host and all, but next time, if you’re going to leave your bedroom door open, can you tell your girlfriend not to leave her underwear on the floor?” 

Nora chokes.

A popcorn kernel shoots into her airway, and Nora coughs into her wine.

Jake subtly drops his arm behind the couch, letting go of her hair.

Looking down at Natasha, Jake raises his brows, like oh, who, me?, and smiles a familiar cat-like smile, unbothered and calm. “Sure, Phoenix. I’ll pass along the message.” 

It’s immediately obvious that Natasha expected him to say anything but that.

She gapes at him, and meanwhile, Nora wishes it was possible to elbow Jake through Bob.

She curls further into the armrest and swallows a mouthful of wine that’s almost too much, wine dribbling out of the side of her mouth and onto her shirt. 

What happened to under the radar?

And when did Nora leave his apartment without her underwear? 

Is she wearing underwear now?

She pats her hip under the guise of smoothing out a wrinkle in her sweat shorts. All clear.

Natasha spends the last 30 minutes of Ocean’s Eleven grilling him – and when Jake smiles that infuriating plastic smile and doesn’t reveal anything, pivoting to Javy – about whether Jake does, in fact, have a girlfriend while Nora pretends to be engrossed in the movie and not eavesdropping. 

“Wow, so Danny gets the money and the girl in the end. Good for him,” Nora says.

Bob gives her an odd look. “Haven’t you seen this movie before?” 

She reaches for her wine again as a diversion, only to find the glass empty. Goddammit. 

When Natasha is still in interrogation mode during the credits, Nora gathers the plates from the living room and escapes to the kitchen, hoping to hide in there until Natasha has even given up or gotten bored.

And knowing her, the latter is far more likely than the former.

Her peace ends about 30 seconds later when Bradley follows her.

He leans against the counter and unrolls the bag of cheese balls that Nora just clipped shut. Tosses one into his mouth. He grins at her knowingly, and Nora narrows her eyes at him in warning.

Don’t say a damn word. 

Still, Bradley observes, “You followed my advice, Rogers.” 

He’s not loud, but Bradley’s not exactly quiet by nature.

She sends a nervous glance into the other room and hisses, “We’re not doing this right now.” 

She dumps the crumbs and uneaten pizza crusts into the garbage and stacks the dishes next to the sink. Turns on the sink to give them a little more privacy because if Nora knows him, Bradley has never left well enough alone in his life.

“Fine.” He knocks back a handful of cheese balls like a shot of vodka and dusts his hands off in a shower of orange crumbs. Nora looks between him and the roll of paper towels at his elbow with a scrunched brow. He doesn’t seem to notice and barrels on, “But listen, as a friend, can I ask you for something?” 

“What?” Nora deadpans.

“Can I have like a 10 minute warning before you tell Hangman we slept together? I’d like to protect the goods.” 

He gestures to his face, but Nora has a feeling Bradley also wants to protect something else.

She stifles a laugh. “He’s not gonna punch you for something that happened five years ago.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Except I do know that because I already told him.” She points to the counter behind him. “Can you hand me that bowl?” 

He pauses mid-crunch and doesn’t move. “You told him?” 

She sighs and reaches around him for the chip bowl herself. “Yes, Bradshaw, I told him.” 

“And Hangman didn’t punch me?” 

“Guess not.” 

“I feel like I should be offended.” 

She stares at him, incredulous. “Did you want him to punch you?” 

“That’s not the point, Nora,” Bradley says, exasperated, like Nora is the one who’s being ridiculous here. “I can’t believe you told him without telling me. How’d he take it?” 

“He didn’t care,” Nora says. She squirts dish soap onto a sponge and scrubs the potato chip grease from the bowl. “He actually thought it was funny.” 

She suspected that Javy might’ve said something to his best friend about their conversation at the roller rink, and Nora didn’t want any lingering suspicions to turn into something bigger than the truth, something that might affect Jake or Bradley in their already high-risk jobs. 

So Nora told him.

He seemed surprised at first.

And then, Jake laughed.

He laughed so hard that Nora hit him with a pillow to get him to stop.

“You and Bradshaw?” Jake chuckled. “You’re so out of his league, sweetheart. Jesus.” 

“We were both drunk, okay?” Nora exclaimed. She felt a certain amount of protectiveness over her 24-year-old self and her weakness for men with big arms and sad eyes. Really, who could blame her? “He was older and hot and sad and – Would you stop laughing at me?” 

“Funny,” Bradley repeats flatly. 

Her lips twitch. “He asked if I’d always been passionate about volunteering with the elderly.” 

A cheese ball rolls down his chest and under the fridge, and Nora bites the inside of her cheek.

Bradley purses his lips. “Now I feel like I should punch him.” 

Eventually, Natasha decides that Jake must be messing with her – “Hangman couldn’t possibly be dating someone. He can never shut up. We’d all know about her.” – and Nora manages to make it out of the night unscathed with the rest of the Daggers none-the-wiser.

(Except Javy, who gives her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder on his way out.)

A week later, Nora is working late in the Ready Room. 

She is leaning on her elbow with god-awful computer posture – one knee pulled up on the chair, a mist of sweat on her brow from the heat – and Jake pops in to the room to let her know that the Daggers are headed to the Hard Deck for an after-work drink.

“You gonna be much longer?” Jake asks. “Want me to wait for you?” 

He sets his chin on her shoulder, watching her fingers move across the keyboard, kissing a spot underneath her ear that usually makes her brain go back, usually makes her sigh and melt into him, but Nora stays strong.

It’s just this one last thing. 

She blows out a grounding several-seconds-long breath to keep herself focused. 

“I’m almost done,” Nora replies evenly, impressively evenly, actually, “so don’t distract me.” 

His lips pull into a grin against the side of her neck.

For his part, Jake doesn’t say anything else. He gives her space, leaning against the window, and watches her in silence. 

She saves one last file, and once the external hard drive is properly ejected, Nora slams the laptop shut. She spins around to look at him, her elbows on the back of the chair, and Jake has his arms folded across his chest, looking effortless and handsome and effortlessly handsome in his black shirt.

Her lip catches between her teeth.

“Hi,” Nora breathes.

Expression soft, Jake says back, “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“How was your day? Good?” 

He nods. “You?” 

She does the same, a dip of her chin.

Evening sun pierces through the open blinds, drenching the room in a copper hue and making it at least five degrees warmer, if not more, and Nora looks him over in the glow. Drinks him in like an Old Fashioned. Her favorite drink.

They’ve been talking a lot about those lately. Favorites. 

Favorite movie. Favorite song. Favorite time of day.

When Harry Met Sally. Gold Dust Woman by Fleetwood Mac. That moment right before sunset when the whole sky and ocean turns pink.

She’s starting to realize Jake might be one of her favorites too.

She motions him closer, crooking her finger, and Jake bends indulgently, eyes bright.

She reaches for him. Coasts her palm along the slope of his chin, the cut-glass curve of his cheek, the prickle of stubble on his strong jawline. 

She kisses him on the cheek and rests her lips there. Mumbles against his skin, “You could use a shave, cowboy.” 

She feels him smile, feels the muscles in his face stretching and working.

“You don’t like the stubble, sweetheart?” 

Nora actually does like the stubble. He looks a little more rugged, a little more like a cowboy. She can imagine him on a ranch in Texas, a sunburn on his broad shoulders, riding horses in his real-leather cowboy boots and his real-denim jeans, tipping his Stetson at her with a wink and a broad grin on his ride. She might like it a little too much.

“Well,” Nora drawls, “I didn’t say that.” 

As Nora pulls back with a grin of her own, Jake catches her chin between his index and thumb and kisses her.

It’s such a good kiss that for a moment, Nora lets herself forget everything else.

She lets herself forget their surroundings; let herself forget the afternoon she spent making a list of gaps in the footage because she has less than fourteen days to fill them in, less than fourteen days left here.

She lets herself forget the rising number of unanswered emails in her inbox and her one-way plane ticket back to New York at the end of the month. 

She lets herself forget anything that isn’t Jake’s hands on her hips, urging her to her feet and pushing her back against the table, hands sneaking under the hem of her shirt, and Nora’s hands in his hair, tousled from the wind and a little damp from his post-flight shower, smelling like soap and jet fuel. 

She loses herself in him, in this.

A door creaks open, and she doesn’t even notice.

“Are you still here, Nora? Phoenix wanted me to ask if…” 

All of the air rushes out of Bob mid-sentence. 

He makes a noise like a punctured balloon – a kind of stunned Oh! sound – and quickly shuts the door again.

Nora breaks away from the kiss, but Bob’s long gone now, picture frames rattling in his wake. 

“Oh… Oh my god.” Nora puts her hands over her face and lets out a panicked laugh into her palms. “What are the odds I could ask him not to tell anyone?” 

“Slim to none,” Jake replies helpfully. “He’s probably already told Phoenix by now.” 

“No way. It’s been like 30 seconds. How….” She grabs her phone, and not four seconds later, an incoming call from Natasha pops up on the screen. She presses decline with a startled sound and drops her phone back on the desk, like it’s a snake that bit her.

What the hell? Are Bob and Natasha telepathically linked?

Jake laughs. He looks far too smug for Nora’s liking.

She squints up at him. “And what exactly are you smiling about? I could get fired.” 

She’s not really going to get fired, but she is feeling dramatic enough to say it anyway.

“You’re not gonna get fired,” Jake fires back without missing a beat. He hooks a finger in her belt loop and pulls her closer. “And I’m smiling because as much as I’ve liked having you all to myself these past few weeks…” A deliberate kiss against the column of her throat as Jake slides his palm up the same path. A breathy sigh. “... I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be happy to not have to sneak around anymore. Now, I’ll be able to kiss you anytime I want.” 

“Is that a Sweet Home Alabama refer– oh?” 

He cuts her off with another kiss, leg sliding between hers and up, his hand around the front of her throat.

It’s a long while before Nora packs up.

She’s only been at the Hard Deck for a few minutes when Bob comes over, looking sheepish, and apologizes with an Old Fashioned in hand.

“I’m sorry, Nora, I should’ve knocked,” Bob says, his shoulders rounded, contrite. “And I’m sorry I immediately told Phoenix.” A pause, and Bob’s cheeks redden a little. “And Fanboy and Payback and also, Rooster and Coyote, but both of them already knew.” 

Nora laughs. “Jesus, Bob, I didn’t realize you were such a gossip.” 

His blush deepens. “I’m sorry. I really thought everyone knew but me, but I guess Rooster and Coyote were the only ones.” 

“It’s okay. We weren’t being very discreet,” Nora admits. She accepts the Old Fashioned with a forgiving squeeze of his arm. “Is Natasha mad? Like on a scale of 1 to Witness Protection?” 

He pulls a face. “I think, more than anything, Phoenix is more mad she wasn’t the first one to figure it out. She’s also pissed Rooster knew and didn’t tell her.” 

“I’ll let him take the heat for this one,” Nora says conspiratorially. 

Bob smiles. “Probably a smart move.” 

She kills the next half-hour and change at the pool table with Jake.

He’s apparently taken not sneaking around anymore to mean have his hands on her at all times. He stands too close and slips a hand into the back pocket of her jeans while Nora is trying to take her turn. Cheater.

Natasha comes over in the middle of a game, nursing a Blue Moon.

She stands at Nora’s side and looks down at the game. “I guess I should’ve known,” she says in the matter-of-fact tone of someone who has processed their surprise. “He’s always staring at you lately. You were either hooking up or in desperate need of a restraining order.” 

“Jury’s still out on the restraining order,” Nora replies dryly and smiles when an eavesdropping Jake looks up sharply. He meets her gaze and shakes his head, a smirk hanging from the corner of his mouth. 

A wrinkle between her brows, Natasha asks, “Is it pretty casual? Or are you guys like, dating now?” 

“No,” Nora answers while at the exact same time, Jake calls, “Yes.” 

A swooping feeling fills her stomach.

They haven’t used that word yet. Dating.

Dating has weight. Implications that Nora isn’t prepared to deal with right now.

Like, if they’re dating, what happens when she leaves? 

And yet, foolishly, Nora really likes the sound of it.

She wrinkles her nose but doesn’t correct him, and Jake grins, like he’s won something.

Natasha observes this interaction with vague fascination.

“I’ll let you two figure that one out.” Natasha hoists herself onto a barstool, legs dangling, and nods to Jake. “I’ve got the next game with you, Nora. Hangman’s been hogging you over here.” 

She and Natasha play a couple of games – first alone and then, against an overconfident pair of ensigns fresh from the Naval academy who wander over to hit on them. They win 40 bucks each off of them and send them packing.

And when Jake wraps his arms around her shoulders from behind, grinning lips pressed against her cheek, Nora spins around and kisses him on the mouth and doesn’t give a damn who sees. 

On the last Friday of the month, Nora sends off the last few files and pieces of footage and organizes a wrap party for the documentary. 

She loves this part of the filmmaking process – after weeks, months of work, a moment of pause and celebration and achievement. It’s such a singular and special experience to create something from start to finish, and Nora wants the Naval aviators have the chance to share in that moment with her. See what the last eight weeks have been for. 

Captain Mitchell ends the day a few hours early and gathers the Naval aviators in the room where Nora first introduced herself to them all of those weeks ago.

A sharp sense of deja vu washes over her as Nora finds herself at the front of the room once again, eight weeks older. She’s not looking out on a group of half-acquaintances, practical strangers, watching her with caution and curiosity. These are her friends. She sees nothing but excitement and anticipation in their eyes.

It’s always a bittersweet feeling, and Nora pushes down the overwhelm that rises in her chest, sticking to the sides of her throat. She swallows hard.

Bradley cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” 

She exhales a laugh, relaxing. “I do have a little speech. More of an introduction, actually.” She links her fingers and holds them in front of her stomach to give herself something to do with her hands. “Making something like this is never easy. It’s almost always disruptive, but I felt so welcome here. You made it feel easy.” 

She continues, “I’m only contracted as the filmmaker so I’m not doing the final edit of the film, but I didn’t want to send it off into post-production without showing you something that represents your hard work and dedication. You’ve volunteered a lot of your time to this project. It’s as much your achievement as mine.” She plugs in her laptop and pulls up the video and smiles. “I have a few minutes of footage for you.” 

A chorus of whoops and cheers, and Nora presses the play button. 

Text appears on the black screen as Nora quietly sits down.

On March 3, 1969, the UNITED STATES NAVY established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the LOST ART OF AERIAL COMBAT and to ensure that the handful of men (and now women) who graduated were the BEST FIGHTER PILOTS IN THE WORLD. They succeeded.

The Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School. You might know it better as TOP GUN.

A video of Captain Mitchell fades in, and Bradley claps loudly and shouts, “Let’s go, Mav!” 

Natasha shushes him – and maybe punches him in the shoulder because Bradley lets out a pained groan.

“These men and women,” Captain Mitchell says on the screen. “This squadron. There’s never been a squadron like this one in the history of the Naval aviation.” He fades to voice-over over a rapid-fire reel of in-air footage: Jets cut through the blue skies at impossible speeds, perform incredible high-speed maneuvers, again and again and again. A black screen as Captain Mitchell declares, “These are the best fighter pilots on the planet.” 

A small smile dances on Nora’s lips, anticipating.

What follows is a straight-forward but effective pattern.

Each Dagger appears on the screen and says their call sign, and Nora clipped something from their interview – a good anecdote, a particularly memorable quote – with footage of them in the air or b-roll of them on the base.

On the screen, Jake – Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, reads the lower-third – flashes a 1000-watt smile to the side of the camera, and Nora smiles despite herself. He was looking at her. She remembers it so vividly, sitting there, pretending not to be charmed by him, pretending not to want him.

Next to her, Jake leans over and whispers, “You remember when you told me you didn’t like me after this?” 

“Shut up,” Nora whispers back, smiling.

He grows closer, lips brushing her ear. “Now, why would I? We both know how much you love to shut me up, sweetheart.” 

A rose pink blush spreads across her cheeks, and Jake chuckles.

Behind him, Natasha kicks his chair. “Zip it, Hangman. Stop flirting during my big moment.” 

And Natasha’s JUST loud enough that Captain Mitchell hears.

He looks over with a frown. His gaze snags on where Hangman’s arm hangs ever-so-casually over the side of his chair, his pinky finger brushing against the side of Nora’s hand. 

Pete Mitchell huffs out an amused exhale and shakes his head and thinks about all of the improbably and impossible ways that history seems to repeat itself. He looks over his shoulder and spots a familiar figure, slipping into the back of the room unnoticed. He nods to them and directs his attention back to the screen. 

A short round of applause breaks out at the end of the video, and Nora beams.

She does a little half-bow at Natasha’s insistence. 

“Thank you. You can stop now,” Nora laughs. She collects her laptop from the podium and holds it against her chest. “A military base isn’t the best place for a real wrap party, but Penny’s been kind enough to host us at her house tonight so I’ll see you all there, but while I’m here and still on the clock, any last questions?” 

A beat of silence. 

A familiar voice rings out from the back of the room.

“Can I ask one?” 

Shock burns down the length of her spine, a sparked fuse of a stick of dynamite, and Nora straightens. 

“What the fuck?” spills out of her mouth. She gapes. “Charlie?” 

Standing in front of the red-and-blue Fighter Weapons School emblem, a leather bomber around her shoulders, a pair of aviator sunglasses in her graying curls, Charlie looks like one of her old photo albums come to life. A wide smile stretches across her face, making her look three decades younger. 

What? How? And again, what?

“Last I checked,” Charlie says with a smooth smile. She nods to Captain Mitchell. “Maverick.” 

“Charlie.” He doesn’t sound surprised. “Good to see you again.” 

Nora is mostly definitely surprised. Stunned. “But… Charlie, what’re you doing here?” 

Charlie leans against the back wall, arms crossed, effortlessly cool.

“Pete here was kind enough to let me know about the wrap party, and I thought, what the hell? Maybe I should take one of those vacation days the Pentagon is always on me about.” Her expression softens as Charlie takes her in. “It’s good to see you, sweetie.” 

Charlie’s here. She’s here.

Nora blinks rapidly.

And promptly bursts into tears. 

Half an hour later, Nora is sitting at a high top in a secluded corner of the hotel bar where Charlie is staying. 

She orders an Old Fashioned from the waiter, and Charlie orders a glass of Pinot Noir and swirls the maroon wine around in her glass like a seasoned professional. Nora’s never really understood the point of doing that – something about letting the wine breathe – but it does make Charlie look pretty sophisticated.

Then again, with her red lips and her Grace Kelly curls, Charlie always looks pretty sophisticated. 

She sips her wine, lipstick un-smudged, and studies Nora over the glass. 

Nora prepares herself for the inevitable barrage of questions.

Something along the lines of, So what happened? Did you lose your phone? or maybe, Why did you start crying in the middle of the Naval base like a certified head case? Both of which are fair enough questions. 

Bob was the first one to recover from his alarm and procured a packet of Kleenex from one of the pockets of his flight suit. He offered her one with a sympathetic smile, and Nora blew her nose with a grateful nod. 

To his credit, Captain Mitchell snapped into action and quickly ushered the rest of the Daggers out of the room.

“Let’s give them some privacy,” Nora heard Captain Mitchell say as Charlie wrapped her in a hug. His voice grew a little sterner, a little harder. “You too, Hangman. Let’s go.” 

She opened her wet eyes, and Captain Mitchell had his hand on Jake’s shoulder, but Jake was looking at her, concern plain on his face, his lips downturned. 

She gave him a watery smile, and Jake’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

He was still the last one out of the room. 

Now, Charlie looks her over and comments brightly, “You’ve got some color in your cheeks. Are you spending a lot of time on the beach?” 

She blinks. That’s… not a question Nora was expecting.

“They put me up in an apartment right on the beach, and the Daggers like to go down to North Beach and play volleyball and football, so I hang out with them sometimes.” 

“You play football?” Charlie asks, skeptical and amused.

“I read.” 

“Ah. Of course. Anything good?” 

What is happening right now? “Yeah, sure, I guess.” 

“Good.” 

Charlie drinks her wine and doesn’t ask anything else.

Nora stares at her. “Charlie?”

“Hm?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask?” 

“No.” 

She almost laughs. “No?” 

“No,” Charlie repeats simply. She flags down the waiter and points to the appetizers on the Happy Hour menu. “Excuse me. Could we get an order of the whipped ricotta and then, the truffle parmesan fries? You can charge it to my room. Thanks, hon.”  

Nora stares at her aunt like she’s been body snatched, and Charlie sighs. 

“Listen,” Charlie starts. “You haven’t called me in weeks so clearly, whatever you’ve got going on is something you’re not ready to share with me right away, and if I know you at all – and I like to think I do – I know I’ll get absolutely nowhere if I push you.” She picks up her glass and swirls it again. “So, we’ll get a couple of drinks and split some appetizers, and when you’re ready, you can tell me what’s going on.” 

They do exactly that.

Nora orders a second drink and spreads honey-drizzled ricotta across pieces of baguette and fills Charlie in on the last eight weeks, every minuscule and probably uninteresting detail about the documentary and the squadron. She does, however, gloss over a few crucial details about Jake, as is her right as guaranteed by the Fifth amendment. She’s also not quite sure how to explain it herself. 

And eventually, when her drink is down to ice and the bread down to crumbs, Nora tells her aunt what’s going on. 

And Charlie listens.

She listens to everything.

Every doubt and fear. Every uncertainty that’s been weighing Nora down for the past year and a half, making her feel like she’s caught in a bear trap, like she can’t move, like she can’t breathe. 

Admitting all of these big and all-consuming feelings to Charlie is scary and freeing in equal measures, but in the end, where there was once a pit in her stomach, she feels relief. She feels one breath closer to the surface. 

When Nora is done, her mouth is dried out. She chugs half a glass of water.

And almost spits it all back out when Charlie’s first words are: “So why don’t you quit?” 

“What?” Nora asks, more of a stunned syllable than a question.

“If you don’t want to do it anymore,” Charlie says plainly, “don’t.” 

Her brows are high on her forehead as Nora asks, bewildered, “So what? Give up?” 

“I didn’t say give up,” Charlie sighs, and it brings Nora back to her teen years when Charlie would accuse her of being difficult on purpose. “I said quit.” 

“They feel like the same thing.” 

“They’re not.” 

She bites her lip and looks over Charlie’s shoulder and out of the window. 

“Isn’t it like…” Nora blows out a breath. “If I quit now, isn’t it like I’m flushing six years of my life down the drain?” 

Charlie shrugs. “You still did a lot in those six years. Changing your mind doesn’t take away from any of those accomplishments, but now, maybe it’s time for you to do something else, something you like more. Start over.” 

Nora sits back. “You say it like it’s simple. Easy.” 

“It might not be easy. It most likely won’t be, but it is that simple, yes.” 

Words catch in her throat, and when Nora says it out loud, her voice sounds small. “I’m scared.” 

Her aunt’s face softens. She reaches across the table and cups Nora’s hand.

“You’re allowed to be scared. Everyone’s scared.” 

She blows out a shaky breath to keep herself from crying again, but a slight crack in her voice gives her away. Damn. “Yeah? When’s the last time you were scared you couldn’t do something?” 

God. She regrets the words almost immediately. 

She sounds childish, petulant, but right now, Nora feels like the 16-year-old who snuck Charlie’s red lipstick from her make-up pouch and got busted because she accidentally put it back uncapped and ruined the inside of the bag. Or like the 21-year-old who ordered an Old Fashioned for her first legal drink because Charlie used to drink them at home and hated it so much that Nora wouldn’t drink another for four more years. 

Like all Nora ever wants to be is someone that Charlie can be proud of.

All of the sudden, Charlie looks very far away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared than when your mom died. She made being a parent look so easy, and I got to be the cool Aunt Charlie on the sidelines, and then, she was gone, and I was so scared I’d fuck up and undo everything.” 

Nora’s eyes burn. “Charlie, I never… You never said anything.” 

“Of course not,” Charlie dismisses with a shake of her head, curls bouncing. “You were still a kid. You were grieving. You needed stability, and I knew I had to do my best because sometimes, you’re scared and you do it anyway.” 

“Fail with your whole heart,” Nora quotes softly, and Charlie squeezes her hand.

“See I could’ve never come up with something like that, but god, your mom…” Charlie wipes at her eyes with a cloth napkin and smiles. “She was born to be writer. When I got my first interview with the Pentagon, I had less than 24-hours notice. I was living in New York at the time, and I’d need to hop on a train and hope I could find a hotel for the night when I got down there."

"Honestly, I thought about not going, but your mom sat me down and said, ‘Charlotte,’” and Charlie straightens her spine and does her best impression of her sister, “‘You get your bony ass to Grand Central, and I’ll call every damn hotel in DC and find you a room. You got the interview, and now, all you have to do is follow through and take the leap.” 

“And you did,” Nora finishes. “You did the interview, got the job, and the rest is history.” 

“I did. I followed her advice. I decided that if I was going to fail, I should do it bravely.” Charlie squeezes her hand once more and lets it go. “It’s your turn now, sweetie.” 

Nora goes to the bathroom to clean up her mascara and when she comes back, Charlie is signing the check.

She checks her watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. Do you want to head over to Penny’s?” 

“Give me one second.” Nora reaches for her purse and pulls out her phone. “I have to call someone back.” 

Penny Benjamin lives in a beautiful house in La Jolla that looks like something out of Architectural Digest magazine. 

A classic California bungalow with off-white siding and wide blue-trim windows and a garden wrapping around the side, summer green dotted with pinks and yellows and reds; on an elegant cliffside, overlooking the Pacific. 

It’s a good half hour from San Diego so when Nora and Charlie arrive, the street is lined with cars.

Last week, Nora asked Admiral Simpson for a full list of everyone who’d been on the base during the making of the documentary and forwarded the names to Penny for the wrap party. When Admiral Simpson asked her why she needed them and she explained – she wanted anyone who’d so much as stood on the tarmac while she’d been filming to be included in the celebration – she could’ve sworn he looked a little impressed. 

Still, Nora is surprised to see him in the garden, chatting with Admiral Bates with a beer in his hand, a pretty woman next to him who must be his wife. 

“I’m gonna go say hi to Warlock and Cyclone,” Charlie says, patting Nora’s shoulder, and Nora nods and watches her go.

She doesn’t see Penny anywhere so Nora goes into the house and finds her in the kitchen. She gives her a quick hug and hands over a bottle of Prosecco – which Charlie had insisted on stopping for on the drive because Charlie couldn’t possibly show up to her ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s house without an expensive bottle of something. 

“What am I?” Charlie asked. “Some kind of asshole?

“Oh, Nora,” Penny gasps, hand fluttering over her heart. “This is your party. You didn’t need to bring me something.” 

“Oh please. Charlie’s outside. It’s from both of us,” Nora waves her off as Penny admires the bottle. It was the prettiest one in the store. “Thank you so much for doing this by the way. Your house is so beautiful.” 

Now, Penny’s the one to wave her off. “No, no, I was happy to do it. We’ll all miss having you around, even Pete. He probably won’t say it himself, but I’ll say it for him.” Nora smiles widely, and Penny shoos her out of the kitchen. “I’ll open this up and bring it out, but you get your butt outside and enjoy the party.” 

Obliging, Nora makes her way back outside. 

A makeshift bar is in the middle of the garden, and Nora finds her aunt pouring herself a glass of wine.

“Come on,” Nora nudges. “You can meet some of my friends.” 

They make the rounds around the garden. She introduces Charlie to Natasha, who looks as starstruck as Nora has ever seen her. 

Shaking her hand firmly, Natasha asks, excited, “You were Maverick’s instruction at Top Gun, right?” 

“One of them,” Charlie answers coolly.

“You knew Viper then? And Iceman?” 

“I did.” 

“So cool,” Natasha breathes, and Bob nudges her with a small, side smile.

“Charlie,” Bradley calls out and rushes over to give her a big hug, lifting her kitten heels off the ground. It’s been a few years since Bradley last saw Charlie so Nora’s not surprised that Bradley and Charlie have a lot of catching up to do. She’s happy to listen and chime in every so often. 

Awhile later, Bradley leaves to grab another plate of food, and gaze sweeping across the garden, Charlie turns to Nora and asks, unexpectedly, “Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?” 

Nora manages not to blush. She raises her brows. “I would if I had one.” 

“Really?” Charlie asks, like, Is that the story you’re going with? “Then, who’s that handsome man over there making moon eyes at you?”

Shit.

Nora looks over, and sure enough, even in the middle of a conversation with Javy, Mickey, and Reuben, Jake doesn’t seem to be paying one damn bit of attention to anything coming out of their mouths. His eyes are on her. Always on her. 

She bites back a smile. And beckons him over.

He crosses the garden in a few long strides and after Nora introduces him (“This is my aunt, Charlie Blackwood.”), Jake greets her with a nod and an extended hand. “Jake Seresin, ma’am.” 

“Jake,” Charlie repeats with recognition. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Finally? Nora frowns slightly. She’s never mentioned him before this afternoon.

His lips part in a wide, charming smile. “Likewise, ma’am.” 

Charlie looks amused. “You don’t have to keep calling me ma’am.” 

“He’s from Texas,” Nora offers like an explanation, a little too quickly, and Charlie’s arched brow makes her cheeks grow warm. She avoids her eyes, squinting at the horizon and pretending to be fascinated by the gulls over the beach. 

Charlie’s not fooled. She smirks and asks, “Texas, huh? What part?” 

“Austin,” Jake replies. It’s a visible effort not to add ma’am at the end. 

“You don’t say. Did Nora ever tell you that my husband John went to UT Austin?” 

A spark lights up his eyes, and Jake seems to be doing fine on his own so Nora leaves him alone to grab another drink in the midst of an in-depth discussion of the Texas Longhorns. She spots Ethan and Chris on her way back and gets pulled into a conversation with them, saying goodbye and wishing them luck in their next projects in case Nora misses them later.

When Nora returns, Jake and Charlie are still talking. She must like him.

Jake smiles at Nora and in his brown sugar voice, says, “I’ll let you enjoy the rest of the evening with your niece, ma’am. She’s pretty spectacular.” 

She could kick him. Or kiss him. Or both. 

“She is,” Charlie agrees. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.” 

She could kick both of them. 

When Jake is out of earshot, Charlie comments, “He’s very charming.” 

Nora almost laughs. “I know.” 

“He likes you.” 

She does laugh now. “Believe me, I know.” 

“He’s the one who called me,” Charlie adds casually, and Nora whirls on her.

“What? You said Captain Mitchell called you.” 

Charlie shakes her head, smiling, a knowing smile. “Pete was the one who forwarded me the invite, but Jake called me.” A chuckle. “He called me ma’am on the phone too.” 

She smiles despite herself because of course.

“What’d Jake say? What made you come?” Nora asks.

“He said that you needed me and you probably wouldn’t call me and tell me that outright, but you were having a hard time.” Charlie looks at her sidelong, lips curled at the ends, a dimple in her cheek. “He knows you pretty well, your not-boyfriend.” 

Nora looks for him again. 

She finds him on the other side of the garden, laughing at something Bradley is saying, hair a golden halo in the summer evening sun. He called Charlie. She never asked, never needed to ask. He just… knew.

And Nora falls a little bit in love with him right then and there; in the same way a little bit of rain falls on your window at the beginning of a mid-August storm. 

A preview before an inevitable downpour. 

Evening begins to blend into night, and Nora sits on the steps of the porch to watch the sunset.

It’s a good vantage point. She can see everyone and everything.

Bob brought a deck of cards and now, the Daggers are playing a game of Bullshit on a massive picnic blanket that Penny brought outside for them, and Penny’s daughter Amelia sits with them, giggling when Bradley loses and pretends to stomp off. 

Nora watches as Charlie goes over to Captain Mitchell and gently puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry about Ice. He was a good man.” 

Captain Mitchell nods, his mouth a line, emotion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, Charlie.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Nora looks away.

He gave her privacy earlier. She’ll return the favor.

A step creaks behind her, and Nora dips her head back to see Jake.

“Hi cowboy,” Nora greets, and Jake grins down at her.

He drops onto the step next to her, arm stretched behind her. 

“How’d it go with Charlie?” Jake asks.

“Good,” Nora says. She rests her chin on her palm, her elbow on her knee, and studies him closely. “She told me that you called her. How’d you even get her number?” 

“Bradshaw,” Jake replies. He meets her gaze and holds it, green on blue, sparkling like the ocean. “Seemed like, maybe you needed her.” 

Her chest aches, and Nora says softly, “Thank you.” 

His wide palm spreads across her leg, fingertips dangling to brush against the inside of her thigh. “How long’s she staying?” 

“A week. She changed her flight. She’s flying back to New York with me, instead of D.C.” 

Silence falls like an anchor, plummeting to the ocean floor. A muscle works in his jaw, like Jake’s chewing on his next words. “What happens now?”

For her? For them?

She doesn’t have all the answers, but Nora at least has this.

“How do you feel about long distance?” Nora asks, watching him carefully.

A smile flickers on his face as Jake realizes what Nora is asking. 

“California to New York? I can probably swing a few flights, cash in some miles.” 

She sets her hand over his, fiddling with his fingers. “That’s sweet, but I was actually thinking more like, North Island to here.” 

“Here?” He looks confused, adorably so, and Nora holds back a smile.

“Turns out that Charlie has some empty-nester friends here from her Top Gun days. They’re looking to rent out their guest house for the rest of the year. It’s not far from here actually, within walking distance of the beach.” She can feel her heart pounding like Nora’s running a marathon as Jake slowly start to understand. “I turned down the offer, Jake. I’m moving back to California.” 

She called Jenna from the hotel bar. She was a little bit annoyed with Nora, understandably.

Her first words were, “Are you kidding me? You waited until now to tell me this?” 

But after a few minutes of Nora’s apologetic I know, I’m sorry, I know, Jenna was ultimately supportive.

“Damn, Nora. This is a real loss for our industry, but I’m happy for you. If you never need a connection in Hollywood, call me. I know people who know people.” 

And one day, Nora might take her up on that, but right now, Nora needs a break. A real one. And California feels like the right place for her to take one. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it  here until she came back.

“You’re staying,” Jake repeats slowly, like Jake’s afraid to believe her.

She reassures him with a nod. “I still have a storage unit back in New York so I have to go back, and I have a few things left at Charlie’s, but Charlie’s coming to help me clean it out and move what I need. And…” Nora drifts off and for once, the uncertainty doesn’t seem so scary. It’s wide open and hopeful. 

Jake wipes his hand down his face and sets his hand on his chest, right above his pounding heart, looking utterly relieved. “You’re… god, Hollywood, you’re gonna give a man a heart attack someday.” 

“You love it,” Nora teases.

He lifts his chin with his knuckle, holding her gaze. “I really, really do.” 

And when Jake kisses her, it feels like maybe he means something else.

Cheeks warm, Nora looks out at the horizon, and it’s that perfect time between day and night when the whole ocean is a watercolor of pale pink and purple. She kisses the carved dimple in his cheek and leans into his strong shoulder, and Jake tucks her under his chin, rubbing his thumb across her palm, over her heart line.

Breathing in the smell of the ocean and him, Nora closes her eyes and catches her breath.

end note: charlie, my beloved. i didn't mean for this to be so long, but i hope you enjoyed 🩵 likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all.

want to be tagged in the epilogue? fill out this form!

#about to be crying through the epilogue goodbye #fic: baby i'm high octane #laracrofted writes #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x nora rogers #hangman x oc #hangman fic #hangman smut #jake seresin smut

[rosenallies]

May I propose to you the idea of either Jane getting jealous over Mirage being all over Nymphia/or Mirage and Nymphia as exes who are strangely good friends afterwards?

Idk if it'd work in any of the Planymphia AUs you currently have, but I was inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/biblewaterzzz/748398423015915520

Idk if you wanted to just discuss or a prompt but I wanna write this as a prompt so thank u for the idea <3 sorry I made this kinda h/c and soft I’m just sad today <3

——

Jane watched them from across the bar with a deep ache in her stomach. Nymphia’s hips swayed to the music in tandem with Mirage, who pressed into her, whispering in her ear every now and then and laughing.

Realistically, they looked like a pair of close friends, nothing more, but watching them made Jane start to spiral. She wasn’t sure if whatever she was feeling could be classified as jealousy, but whatever it was, she hated it. She hated the way her stomach turned and tears pricked at her eyes as she imagined Nymphia coming up to her and explaining that she’d be much happier with someone like Mirage. And really, who could blame her? Nymphia deserved someone as positive and lighthearted as she is. Deep down inside, since she and Nymphia started dating, Jane wondered how long it would take for Nymphia to get sick of her pessimism and leave her for someone else.

The downward spiral continued into the night, even after they’d said goodbye to their friends and were walking hand in hand back to Nymphia’s apartment. Jane’s mood had sobered her up while Nymphia swayed happily as they walked, wistfully chatting about how much fun she’d had all night.

“Janey, I wish you would’ve danced with us, we were having so much fun!”

Jane laughed to herself, shaking her head. “Looks like you had plenty of fun with Mirage.”

She hadn’t meant it to come across the way it did, but Jane was never one to come across very softly. Nymphia looked up at her, brows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”

Huffing, Jane shook her head. “Nothing.”

“No,” Nymphia stopped them, grabbing ahold of both of Jane’s hands, “it’s not nothing. What’s the matter?”

Jane felt as if she was about to cry, Nymphia looking up at her so tenderly. “C-can we just get back to the apartment, please?”

“Okay, baby,” Nymphia said with a soft smile, lacing their fingers together as they walked the last block back home.

Once they got back, Nymphia kicked her heels off, Jane following suit, the pit still sitting heavy in her stomach. Nymphia turned to her, grabbing both of her hands and kissing the back of them. Jane felt she didn’t deserve her. “Do you want to talk now or get comfy first?”

Jane shrugged. “I guess now would be okay.”

Nymphia nodded and led her to the couch, curling into her side and resting her head on her shoulder. “Tell me what’s on your mind. What’s making my PJ sad?”

“You were having a lot of fun with Mirage,” Jane said plainly, afraid of letting too much spill out, all her secret insecurities she hid with jokes and jabs and a deluded sense of self confidence.

“I would’ve had more fun of you joined us on the dance floor. Is that what you’re upset about? Are you jealous?”

Feeling her cheeks burn, Jane shrugged again. “I don’t know, I guess?”

If Jane were in a better mood about it, Nymphia might’ve teased her, but Nymphia could tell this wasn’t a playful jealousy, it was one laced with uncertainty and insecurity. “Jane, Mirage is just a friend. You have nothing to worry about with her.”

“Maybe not with her,” Jane whispered under her breath.

“What do you mean? Who else would you have to worry about?”

“Just-just forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jane should’ve known Nymphia wouldn’t allow her to shut her away, but she was taken off guard when Nymphia gently turned Jane’s face toward hers. “We really should though.”

Sighing, Jane nodded, Nymphia was right. “I worry you’re going to leave me for someone like Mirage. I know you two are just close friends but I watching the way she was touching you and was all over you made me start thinking about how you deserve someone better than me.”

“Better than you? I don’t think there’s anything better than you, though. I want to be with you, no one else.”

“You don’t think I’m a bad person or that I come across too abrasive?”

“I don’t think that at all, I wouldn’t be with you if I thought that and trust me, I want to be with you. I want to be with you all the time.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm,” Nymphia hummed, nuzzling into Jane once more, “all the time.”

If Jane had thought about it some more, she would’ve chosen her next words more carefully but as she laced her fingers with Nymphia’s, she let her heart speak for her. “I love you.”

It was the first time either of them had said it, even though Jane had been thinking it for weeks. For a moment, Nymphia looked taken aback and then her face softened. She leaned over and gently kissed Jane before whispering quietly, “I love you too.”

#planymphia office au #prompt request

[thesunhatesme]

A missing tooth

Wc:1,1 k Chapter: 2 Chapter one

Phantom and Swiss woke up early the next morning, it was still dark outside. They got up and started getting dressed. Aether knocked on the door and came in with some pain meds for Phantom, who gladly took them. Then he wanted to take his blood pressure before letting him go.

They made their way back to the den for some breakfast and met up with Copia. Breakfast was proven very difficult when missing a tooth, biting in a sandwich was not easy and anything coming in contact with it hurt, so he ended up eating some dry cereal with a glass of chocolate milk.

Breakfast was finished and Swiss helped him brush his teeth which was proven to be just as painful as the night before. But they were very careful and took brakes when needed to make it as comfortable as possible. After ten minutes they were done and Swiss helped tame his hair.

“Will you come with me?” Phantom asked as Swiss brushed his hair. He didn't really want to go alone, especially not to the dentist.

“I'm sorry Bug, but I have to help in the infirmary today” Swiss answered as he looked at Phantom in the mirror.

“Oh” Phantom mumbled and looked down.

“But Copia will go with you, that's okay, right”

Phantom shrugged “I guess”. It wasn't Swiss but he loved Copia and trusted him too. It would be fine, he told himself.

Swiss hugged Phantom goodbye and gave him a kiss between the horns before they left. Phantom didn't want to go but Copia led him to the car and let him decide the music and Swiss waved them goodbye as they drove off. 

Copia told him about what the dentist would do on the way there, he knew that just knowing what was going to happen would calm Phantom down very much. He also promised him a McDonalds chicken nugget meal as a treat after.

They arrived at the dentist and Copia parked the car. Phantom had fallen asleep on the way so Copia woke him up and they started walking towards the entrance. Copia noticed how tense his ghoul was and grabbed his hand, and they continued walking hand in hand.

When they entered Copia checked Phantom in before sitting down in the waiting room, Phantom resting his head on Copias shoulder and Copia holding his hand and trying to comfort him. It was hard but he didn't run away and Copia took that as a win.

Soon enough someone called them in and led them to a room. Copia sat down in a chair by the wall and Phantom sat down in the chair in the middle of the room. Everything was white, the walls, the floor and the sealing, everything except for the chair, that was blue.The dentist introduced himself and explained what they would do.

The dentist started by putting a heavy thing around Phantom's neck and upper chest, he explained how it would protect him from the x-ray. Then he put something in his mouth and asked him to bite down on it. It hurt a bit and was very tricky, but he managed. The dentist and Copia left the room so that Phantom could be x-rayed.

The dentist sat down by his desk and looked over the results. He then turned around and held them up to show Copia and Phantom. “You can see here” he said as he pointed, “that there's a crack hiding under the gum and if you look closely” he continued as he took a red marker and circled around a spot, “You can see that the jaw bone is chipped”

“Will you be able to fix it?” Copia asked, concern painting his face. 

“Not today, he will need a surgery, but we can fix the tooth temporarily”

The dentist started preparing everything he would need to fix the tooth and prepared the anesthetic syringes, explaining that they would numb his mouth and he wouldn't feel a thing. He told them about how he would take away the nerves that were exposed and then try to glue the peaces of tooth back together. 

The dentist tipped back the blue chair and draped something blue over Phantom's upper body. Copia held his hand when it was time for the numbing. It didn't hurt, it just felt cold, it was a very weird sensation.

The dentist attached something to his lips, he couldn't feel it but he could see it in the mirror above him. Then he put some blue medical wrap on the things and cut a hole for his tooth. He explained how it was important that the chemicals only came in contact with the tooth because they could harm the body.

When all the preparation was done, the dentist took out something that he said would take away the exposed nerves. He held the thing up to his tooth and as soon as he started, Phantom's whole body tensed, back bowing off the bed as the pain rushed through his body.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Copia yelled as he rushed over to Phantom's side, taking his hand again. “Can you give him anything more?” He asked, he hated seeing his ghouls in pain, it made him sick to the stomach. 

“Of course I can, it's not supposed to hurt this much” The dentist answered as he started preparing one more anesthetic syringe. Copia held Phantom's hand and stroked his thigh to comfort him. It had scared Phantom, it felt like his tooth was on fire and it sent shock waves through his whole body.

The dentist injected the anesthesia and continued to put the tooth together. It didn't hurt at all this time, but Phantom was still tense and the muscles in his body started getting shaky from how tense they were. Copia of course noticed and put his hands on his shaky muscles to try to get him to relax. He knew Phantom would be exhausted after this, and he didn't want him to be sore too.

The dentist was done and started taking away all the clips and medical wrap. It was finally done. He tipped the chair up again and gave Phantom a glass of water to wash his mouth out with.

“I want you to be very careful the next two weeks, no biting with your front teeth, especially no hard things like apples or carrots” The dentist told them. He kept on telling Copia what Phantom would be able to do and not. Phantom tried to listen, but he was so exhausted. But Copia listened carefully and asked questions, wanting the best for Phantom.

#phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #nameless ghouls #papa copia #copia #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #tshm writing

[spookyspecterino]

Back to You Again

Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Injury, mention of blood, mention of death/fear of death, arguing/bickering, swearing. Serious idiots in love who have a little trouble expressing their feelings and choose the wrong time to do it.

You've been gone a little while. A few months to be specific. Why? Tangerine can only guess, but he's not happy about it.

Requested by @nocturnest. I'm so sorry this took so long. I started it thinking it was going to be short and then 7K words flew out. 😬Anyway, thanks for your request. It's been a long time since I wrote anything seriously and this was really good for me. Hope you enjoy!

“Laser cutter. Three auto-rifles. Two handguns. Three boxes of ammo each.”

Check.

The binoculars are heavy duty, and the metal texture grates your fingers as you pull them up to peer through the lenses into the next building over. A high-rise that had at least 30 floors. All windowed at least, which made this a little easier on you.

“In through the fifth-floor service area. Through the employee hallway to the service elevator.”

A map of the building laid next to you on the gravel roof. It hadn’t been easy to get your hands on it, but it was worth it for a building as secure as this. No security measure had been overlooked by this man and as paranoid as he seemed it went a long way to his credibility.

“In and out through the service elevator. 20 mins tops. Oh, the jammer.”

A handheld device that you’d paid top dollar for. Yes, it has duct tape holding pieces of it together, and the screen was a repurposed old Gameboy front, but it is the best your back-channel dealer could provide.

How did anyone do anything without a handler these days?

The jammer would save you the trouble (if things turned sideways) of dealing with reinforcements. It flickers to life by flipping a switch smoldered to its side. The thing really does look like a piece of garbage. And, despite what the dealer said, the duct tape and flimsy-ness of it

Several frequencies and networks flashed across the screen, all of them belonging to the building you were surveying. Scrolling through, only a few needed to be shut down, too many and it would raise alarms.

Wifi was the last to be turned off and then you would really need to book it inside.

Everything planned out to a T. Entrance and exits mapped. Back-up plans (and back-up plans to those back-up plans) in place. Extra weapons and ammo in case you had to go out guns blazing. This should be no problem.

“Office-penthouse on the top floor. Computer terminal on the desk, west side.”

Get to the computer, get the files, destroy everything. If you happened to kill the son of a bitch, well, that was a bonus.

You sigh and rub your face, trying to work out the stress lines that seemed to make a permanent home between your brows. “Now I just need to stop talking to myself.”

It was an unfortunate habit you’d picked up in the last few months of working alone. Usually, you had… no. This was no time to think of them, or of him. You have to focus. After this is done, you can go back and apologize, even grovel if you have to.

But now is the time for focus.

In the middle of repeating this mantra, one you’ve been repeating for the last month, you happen to look up at the street. Not for any real reason, nothing had drawn your attention. Nothing was amiss in your perfect plan.

Except two very familiar faces walking down the sidewalk.

Lemon and Tangerine.

Clad in their typical attire. Snazzy suits, dress shoes, and ties.

Your stomach does several things. First it flips at the sight of Tangerine as he saunters with his hands in his pockets, then it sinks and twists into painful knots.

“No, no, no!”

They can’t be here! Anywhere but here!

The two walked casually down the sidewalk, as if they were taking a nice midday stroll. No rifles, no car, nothing. Either they were ballsy as hell…or wildly misinformed about this building and the man inside.

Something in you hoped, prayed, they would pass the building. That they were going somewhere else.

They took a sharp turn to cross the street—toward the building entrance—and your breath turned ragged, your blood chilled. At the same time, your mind was churning with practicality, cold and calculated ideas. Some nasty part of you that had gotten you this far in such a dangerous career, that had nestled in you a long time ago and only now resurfaced in the months of being alone.

You could just walk away; they have their job, and they’re professionals. They can handle themselves.

You could go in after and clean up without ever being seen. Easy. The plan you made could still work, Tangerine and Lemon would be a perfect distraction.

But you were already moving. Lega working on their own and putting you into motion. Fingers tapping off the Wi-Fi signal on the jammer while you slung your duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was not the plan, you argued with yourself as you flew down the back stairs. You’ll get yourself killed being this reckless and impulsive. What happened to in and out in 20 mins?

With every point you made the other side of your mind made a counterpoint.

They’re underprepared. They’re misinformed. They don’t have the firepower to walk in the front door, hell, they don’t have enough bullets to make it to the second floor.

“God damn it!” You yelled, taking the stairs down two at a time. Your voice echoed off the walls in the cramped stairwell. The rifles in your duffle bag clattered and banged together.

They’d be killed. Tangerine and Lemon would be killed. You couldn’t let that happen.

. . .

“I say we take a hostage and negotiate our way up.”

“Yeah, sure, Lemon.”

“This guy’s what, a tech billionaire, or something?”

“Probably.”

“Ok, so he’s a nerd. Easy job.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lemon shoots his brother a less than happy look. Tangerine is staring off into space with a slight frown, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he hunches over a little. Which wasn’t new, he’d been doing that a lot lately. A reflection of his dour mood.

Lemon rolls his eyes. “Oh, mate. Come on. We’re on a job.”

Tangerine shrugs, frowning harder. “I’m fuckin’ aware of that, Lemon.”

“Then stop with your sulking! What have I told you?”

“No—” Tangerine waves a hand, “—you don’t need to say it again—”

“Just send her a letter or something. She’d love it.”

Tangerine groans, he’s starting to get a headache now as they near the target building. “As I’ve said before, I attached letters on the flowers I sent.”

Lemon opens his mouth, but Tangerine cuts him off. “And I sent more than one bouquet. For fuck’s sake, her house probably looks like a tropical rainforest by now.”

“What about—”

“I’ve sent her presents. Jewelry. Perfume. A new phone in case hers was broken. Fuckin’ hell I even had her porch repainted.”

“And she didn’t say anything?”

“Nothing.”

Lemon hesitates. “Did you say you’re sorry?”

Now Tangerine was about to lose it. His eye twitched, not that his brother could see it. “Sorry for what? She’s the one that up and disappeared without a word.”

“I still think you should say it. Just to cover your bases.”

“I’m not apologizing. We were all perfect and you know that. She was happy as a clam and if something was wrong, she would have told me.”

“Then why’d she—”

“You’re really getting on my fucking nerves, Lemon.”

They were across the street from the main entrance now. Two glass doors with golden handles reflected the brothers. In sync they both took a sharp turn toward them. Through the glass they didn’t see anyone else in the lobby and there was a long, chest high counter with a clerk along the far back wall.

Neither of them blinked at how empty the lobby was. Their client had said this target was some kind of informant, but that was about it. They’d paid half up front and sent them on their merry way.

Tangerine yanked open the glass door, holding it for Lemon. He was beyond pissed and just wanted this to be over with. Despite his complaints he was still mulling over what his brother said. Should he apologize, even though he had done nothing wrong? He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and he had thought back on all the times you’d been with them, working a job or not.

He’d been happy, he thought you were happy too.

The white floor tiles of the lobby were so shiny they could check their reflections in them. The whole place was upstanding and flaunted wealth. On both sides of the spacious lobby were two silver elevators. The clerk, a lady in her mid-thirties, looked up at them as they walked in. She picked up a phone and turned away as she spoke.

It took them 10 seconds to reach the desk, and, in that time, Lemon had pulled out his gun.

He pointed it at her now. “Hang up the phone.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Not the usual response someone has when a gun is pointed at them, but she slowly hangs up.

“Come out from behind the desk, slowly.”

There’s a moment when she does nothing. Then, “No.”

Tangerine blinks, then pulls out his own gun. “Did you really just say no? Listen lady—”

She leans forward over the desk, leering. “Turn around and get the fuck out.”

Lemon shoots into the wall slightly to her left. She doesn’t even flinch at the sound. “I will fucking shoot you. Get out. From behind. The desk.”

She leans back. “Cute gun.”

Tangerine starts to get a sinking feeling. He turns to Lemon, about to say they should take a walk (maybe find a back entrance to this place instead) when the woman pulls out .22 Uzi from somewhere in the desk. They only catch a glimpse of the muzzle before they start shooting wildly and ducking.

Lemon takes a shot to the chest with a grunt. Tangerine hears the bullets whizzing past him and shattering glass.

The desk clerk turns disappearing behind an employee door seamlessly built into the wall.

They crouch down next to the desk. Tangerine’s head pounds, as it usually does when a job gets out of control.

“You alright?” He reloads his gun, watching his brother carefully.

Lemon checks himself over, patting his chest and stomach. “Yeah, all good, the vest caught it. This is fucked what do we do—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish as both elevators open and squads of heavily armored men pour out. They all have automatic rifles and black Kevlar vests.

“Behind the desk!” Tangerine shouts, pulling Lemon up.

They jump over just as the bullets start flying. Glass shatters, wood splinters, tiles crack. It’s utter chaos and Tangerine and Lemon can only sit behind cover.

“I think we might be fucked!” Lemon shouts, checking his gun.

Tangerine grits his teeth, mind racing. “The client didn’t mention this level of security! I’m going to wring their fucking neck!”

“We’re outmatched!”

“No question, Lemon! Thanks for pointing that out!” Tangerine can feel his brother’s rising anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

 “What do we do?!”

“We hope to God this is all of them and try our best to make it out of here!”

“You’re saying—”

Tangerine fires blindly from behind the desk. “Yes, we bail on this job and break our client’s fucking legs!”

The onslaught never seems to end. These assholes are top security and they’re trained well. Their shots chip away at the desk piece by piece, Tangerine and Lemon can feel the bullets violently embed themselves in the wood against their backs.

Tangerine glances at the employee door, there’s no handle and no way to pry it open. He figures there’s a remote control that opens it somewhere from behind. He tries to remain calm, think of a way out that isn’t behind at least 10 guys with rifles.

What would you do in this situation? His heart feels like it’s been pierced with a lance as he thinks of you. Obviously, you would never be caught in a situation like this. You were careful, practical, methodical in the way you planned out jobs.

He wished you were here with him.

Instinctually, his hand reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone. Lemon watches him with something close to sympathy on his face.

Your number is on speed dial. Tangerine presses a button and holds it up to his ear.

It goes straight to voicemail.

The automated answering machine has become very familiar to him these last few months. Were you checking his voicemails? He’d left you enough to fill up your mailbox, he was sure of it.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

He hopes you can hear him over the sound of gunshots.

“Yeah, look. Lemon and I, we’re in a bit of a pickle. I was really hoping you would answer this time ‘cause we need help. Since you didn’t, I just wanted to say that you’re a real prick for leaving us the way you did. And you haven’t said a single thank you or anything for all the gifts I’ve sent. Poor Lemon has been wondering where you went off to.” He pauses. This wasn’t the way he wanted to start this message, but every other attempt at getting your attention has failed.

“You know how I feel, I’ve made that pretty clear. But right now, I’m just pissed. Nothing has worked, so I’m going to break into your house and wait for you to come home.”

Lemon gives him a startled look, shakes his head from side to side.

Tangerine frowns. “Don’t take that the wrong—Alright, I won’t break into your house, but I will wait on your doorstep. Every day, I’ll be there until I see you.”

Lemon is still frowning, but Tangerine ignores him.

“This is all because…Well, I…” He struggles, throat turning dry and closing around the words he wants to say. Instead of continuing, he hangs up.

Sitting back against the desk he exhales. The gunfire has stopped to an occasional patter here and there.

Lemon runs a hand through his hair. “Bruv, what the fuck was that?”

“A last-ditch effort at getting some backup.”

They fell into silence; the lobby was eerily quiet. They knew the security team was just waiting for them to come out from behind the desk. The air crackled with energy.

Lemon checked his pockets. “I’ve got two clips left, you?”

“One and a half.”

The look they share conveys their doubts, their dread. An unspoken conversation passes between them.

Tangerine puts it in the back of his mind. “I’ll run out first, then you go a few seconds later.”

“No way, we go at the same time.”

He shakes his head but arguing only puts off the inevitable.

“Go to the opposite side of the desk.”

They split, crouching behind opposite corners. There was no way either of them would be able to make it two steps without taking 10 rounds to the chest. The image of you stays in Tangerine’s mind. He just wished he could see you again. Whatever comes next, afterlife or not, he hoped you—or some form of you—would be in it.

Tangerine gives Lemon one last look, finds that his brother is watching him, and gives him a somber nod. He holds his gun up, takes a deep breath, gets ready to run…

He’s out from behind the desk, gritting his teeth and firing in a flash.

He hits one, another to his left falls from Lemon’s bullets. His legs are shaky, he can feel them trembling.

Rifles take aim.

Tangerine opens his mouth to urge Lemon on.

And a grenade goes off.

The loud bang startles him, his ears ring and a second later he’s shrouded in white, smokey fog. Tangerine stops, confused, looking around to try and find Lemon. But a strong hand yanks him and drags him back. He stumbles, scattering empty bullet shells along the ground, and falls onto the tile.

He’s back behind the desk. Lemon falls next to him.

A pair of legs stands between the brothers. Next to them lies a green duffle bag. Empty rifle shells fall to the ground. Tangerine didn’t even realize guns were firing. He followed the legs up in one long sweep of his eyes.

. . .

A million and one things were going through your mind as you fired an automatic rifle at the security team in the lobby. The biggest thing was holding back every fiber of your damn being from screaming at Tangerine and Lemon for being so foolish.

If you had been a breath later, a second too late, these idiots would be laying in a pile of their own blood on the floor. That thought definitely won’t haunt you for a few months.

The other thing you were concentrating on was ignoring the way Tangerine was staring at you right now. He’s not hurt—you kept repeating, over and over again. He’s ok.

The security team was scattering for cover, but finding little, making your job easy as the last of the smoke cleared. They hadn’t been expecting someone to come in from behind and you’d shot a few in the back before throwing the smoke grenade. Only a few were left now.

They seemed to get over their surprise and began firing back, opening the elevators, and using the inside cabins for cover. Keeping the doors open would stop them from being sent back up for more goons to come through. That was good.

You duck down behind the desk. They were still staring at you.

“Yes! Hello!” You stubbornly gritted out while staring into the wood.

Tangerine’s mouth opened and closed many times, but no words came out. That didn’t mean Lemon wasn’t able to say anything.

“Did you get his message?” He was grinning like some kind of fool.

“Message? Which one?”

Was he talking about the hundreds of messages—texts, voicemails, and letters—Tangerine had been sending on a weekly basis? Yes, you’d gotten them. Read every single one. It had been hard enough sleeping normally, after all that you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. The guilt was overwhelming.

Lemon’s eyes dart to his brother. You did the same and regretted it immediately.

Tangerine’s eyes were practically bulging from his head. His mustache twitched.

Oh, he’s pissed.

You quickly look away and clear your throat. “Are you on a job?”

“Yeah, a shit one. We were just trying to bail.”

“Can’t blame you. What happened, bad intel?”

Tangerine’s voice resembled a growl, it grated against your ear, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “Understatement of the century, love.”

Love. Love. Love.

Lemon wipes his forehead. “What’re you doing here?”

“I have my own problems with your target.” You turn to Lemon but feel Tangerine’s eyes burning a hole in your back. “I was about to sneak in when I saw you two walking down the street.” You check your gun, then rummage through the duffle bag for another clip.

“A massive coincidence then?” Lemon was holding back a smile, eyes darting to Tangerine occasionally. It was as if they weren’t just about to die only five minutes ago.

“If you two still want to bail, that’s fine with me. I’ll give you a window after taking the rest out. I’m going to push on.”

Tangerine spins you around by the shoulder to face him. “Are you fucking mental?”

You’re very close together. The determination it takes not to just lean in and…

Speaking slow, you’re focusing your words and hoping it gets through to him. “Your target has info on me that could get people hurt and ruin my reputation. I need to wipe his computer.”

For all his credit, Tangerine takes you seriously in that moment, even as he looks like he might commit murder. He looks to Lemon—they do that ‘sibling conversation’ without words that they’re so good at.

“We’ll stick around to help.”

“You sure?”

Something in him ignites. There’s a fire behind his eyes. “Fuck yes, we’re sure.”

He’s giving mixed signals now. Is he angry? Probably. But apparently not angry enough to leave you on a job alone.

“Alright…” You say, slowly backing away.

You search through the duffle bag, cold objects graze your fingers, you can identify them each by touch. The laser cutter has a rubber handle. “Lemon—" You toss it to him. “—Cut a hole in the employee door. Tangerine—” You grab another rifle, placing it into his hands. “—Help me take out the last of the guys.”

He takes the rifle and for a moment your hands touch. You expect him to flinch away, or recoil, but he lingers there for a moment. His golden rings gleam—of course he wore them, he never leaves them behind—and catch your eyes until he takes the gun from you.

Fucking confusing.

It had been months, but the three of you worked together like no time had passed at all. Tangerine falling in sync with you, watching your back. Working in tandem, the few remaining riflemen dropped like flies.

“Doors open!” Lemon shouted tapping you and Tangerine’s shoulder.

The three of you waste no time dashing into the small service hallway. Tangerine grabbed the duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. You were just about to pick it up, but he gave you a look.

There wasn’t as much polish to this part of the building, the lighting was dimmer, and it lacked the white tiles, replaced by a steely gray metal flooring instead. The hallway was long and narrow, its walls matched the floor in color.

“This should lead to an employee elevator. That will take us to the top office.” You panted, oddly exhilarated.

Lemon was looking down the hallway as he crouched. “Watch out for the desk clerk, she went this way.”

“Still can’t believe you both just walked in the front door…”

“We don’t all have your sense of planning, darling.” Tangerine huffed, hiking the bag higher on his shoulder.

“Did you have any sense of planning?”

“Lemon had a plan.”

You turn halfway back to face him. “You—Tangerine!”

He fixes you with an odd look. “What?”

“Lemon doesn’t even read the briefs! And you let him make the plan?” You shoot an apologetic look to Lemon. “No offense, you’re really great in every other area.”

He gives you a half smile. “I appreciate that.”

Tangerine grinds his teeth. “In my defense, the intel in the brief was already bad.” He steps closer, into your personal space. “And you always come up with the plans.”

You don’t shy away from him, in fact, you inch closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make them, but you should know better—”

Lemon sighs, long and loud. “Can you two please focus? We’re in the middle of a dangerous situation here.”

It took a moment for you and Tangerine to resume, the closeness was intimate. Electricity crackles in the air between you.

You both say ‘Fine’ at the same time, like stubborn teenagers. The tension hadn’t settled one bit.

If Tangerine needed to be ignored for the remainder of this mission, then ok. That’s fine. No problem. That doesn’t bother you one bit. Nope.

The three of you empty the duffle bag of its contents, splitting the ammo and giving Lemon the pump action shotgun. That shotgun was your Hail Mary in case shit hit the fan—which, by your definition, it had.

You three were your own personal attack squad now, armed to the teeth.

The employee lift was at the end of the twisting hallway, metallic doors shining like a beacon. The panel to call it only had the arrow pointing up, a one-way lift. You’d poured over the maps late into the night leading up to your personal mission, often with a glass of wine, and it had struck you as odd that it only offered a one way up.

You jab at the button, and the little golden light is stark against the greys around it. Tangerine stands just behind you; you can hear his breath over your shoulder.

“Why’s it only one way?” he asks, hushed and tense.

“I asked the same question.” You responded turning a little to look at him. “I thought it might be security measures.”

“Doesn’t really make sense though, does it? It lets people like us up.” Tangerine zeroes in on your frown. “What is it?”

“There might be internal controls from the top office. This guy doesn’t fuck around with security.”

“Who is this guy anyway?” Lemon sniffs, casting a look back down the hallway.

“An asshole that likes snooping into people’s personal business.”

The brothers trade looks.

“He also works in satellite tech, undercover ops, information gathering.”

There’s a gentle bump into your shoulder. “He’s been snooping into your business, has he?”

How long is this elevator going to take?

“He has.”

“Did he try to blackmail you?”

“Yes.”

“What did he find?”

The elevator dings and the sleek metal doors slide open. The inside is full of ominous red and gold hues. The luxuriousness of it gives you the impression that the boss of the building takes it regularly.

Instead of answering, you step inside and forcefully hit the button for the top floor. Tangerine watches you carefully, studying you. Somehow, he looks like a kicked puppy, yet holding the rifle he takes on a much more sinister tone. He still looks dashing as hell in his suit though. You can see the little gold chain of his necklace around his broad neck.

Focus, focus, focus!

His mustache twitches a bit as he catches you staring. And to top that off, he stands in front of you, very closely in front. Either trying to shield you or irritate you. Possibly both.

He’s wearing the cologne you got him as a present almost a year ago.

“If there’s in house security for this lift, we should be prepared.” You shift a little to see Lemon over Tangerine’s shoulder.

“What do you suggest?”

“They know we’re coming, so we have to be fast. Their access to elevators has been blocked. All remaining security teams will need to take the stairs. This elevator opens to another employee hallway that we’ll have to exit in order to reach the office. That’s assuming—”

The elevator stutters, something above you screeches in the elevator shaft, and the panel lights flicker. All three of you stumble as it comes to an abrupt stop and the dim emergency lights switch on. They coat the interior in a faint red light, turning it into a nightmare scenario.

 You groan. “That’s assuming they don’t just turn the elevator off. Fuck.”

Lemon places the shotgun on the floor and motions to Tangerine. Together they pry the paneling off to reveal the switchboard underneath. Lemon fusses with the wiring, using a knife to cut through some and connect it to others.

Sparks fly, flashing in the dim light. Your anxiety ramps. Trapped in an elevator was not on your list of things you wanted to deal with today.

While Lemon fussed with wires, Tangerine turned back to you. “Relax.”

“Excuse me?”

“Try to stay calm, we’ll be out in a second or two.”

Your blood boiled hot. “Don’t tell me to be calm.”

Tangerine smiles at you. “I know you hate elevators.”

“They’re fine, I just particularly hate being trapped in them.”

“Just relax, I’ve got you.”

“That doesn’t help at all!”

More sparks and flickering lights and the elevator doors open an inch. Tangerine has the audacity to smirk in that moment and he touches your chin briefly. His eyes gleam in the dim light.

If you all lived, you were going to kill him.

The twins work wordlessly to pry the elevator doors open. It takes a tremendous effort and both of them are sweaty and breathing hard at the end, but there’s enough space for a person to climb through. Except, you’re going to have to jump down into the office below. Half the elevator is blocked.

“Well, good news is…” Lemon says, scratching his head, “we can get out. And if the elevator can only fall downward.”

“The elevator only goes up, Lemon.” You choke out.

“Oh. Right…well, best get a move on then.”

“I’ll go first.” Tangerine volunteers.

On instinct you reach for him. He sees the slight movement before you hold yourself back.

As if it was easy, he’s crouching down, squeezing through the doors, and jumping into the office below. All with his gun in his hand. Meanwhile, your heart is doing summersaults in your throat.

He holds his hands up, beckoning you. “Come on. You’ve done harder things than this.”

You force yourself to move, crouching down and inching toward the opening. You toss him your rifle. “Like when?”

“Like when you jumped between rooftops in Venezuela.”

“I wasn’t thinking when I did that! And in hindsight, it was fucking stupid of me.”

He laughs. “I’ve got you. Come on.”

You squeeze through the doors, imagining the elevator crashing down, the doors snapping shut, something—anything drastic, and then throw yourself at Tangerine. He catches you with practiced ease and holds you close to him.

He says something you don’t catch over the sound of your trembling breaths. There’s a pat on your shoulder, Lemon is out.

Regaining yourself, you move away from Tangerine and straighten your clothes. His brow furrows, mustache tilts down. Maybe it was your imagination, but did his fingers grip your clothes? A silent plea for you to stay?

You do your best to ignore it. “Let’s go. Did anyone catch what floor we stopped on?”

“37th.” Lemon says, handing over your gun.

“Two floors short.”

“You think they’re waiting for us?”

“I’d bet money on it. Be careful, both of you. I don’t want to see any heroics.”

Tangerine’s eyes follow you as you move to the front and lead them through the hallway at a jogging pace. The single door at the end is much like the one you entered on the first-floor lobby. There’s a control panel for it to the side. As you run up to it, you press your ear to the other side.

No noise.

Your hand hovers over the button. With one last look behind you at the twins you give them a nod, then press it. The door clicks open a fraction, and everything goes to shit.

They were waiting for you on the other side of the door and the gunfire started up immediately. Your vision was blocked immediately, and you were pushed and tugged out by a strong hand—the world was a blur of loud shots, ringing ears, and scrambling. Grey cubicles shoulder-height tall were set up along the floor, which made spotting the enemy incredibly hard. All the fighting was done in the tight walkways between the office spaces.

Your shirt had blood on it, but you had no bullet wounds. Tangerine sat beside you, holding an arm. He’d been shot in his right arm.

“I said no heroics!” You practically shrieked.

Lemon was firing between cubicles, and from the sound of it, he was holding his own.

“What was I supposed to do, love?” Tangerine pants through the pain.

“You’re supposed to let me handle it!” You’re shouting as you pull out some gauze. The bullet went straight through his upper arm. He’d need stitches but, overall, he would be ok. You poke and prod gently as he hisses with each touch.

His teeth are gritted as he grunts out, “You wanted to get shot?”

“I’d take a bullet for you, happily. You know that.”

“I feel the same way, which is what I was doing.”

“I still don’t want you to!”

“I don’t want you to, either!”

Something bounces off your back. It’s a stapler. Both you and Tangerine stare at it for a moment, confused.

“Oi! You two! Get over yourselves and actually talk about your feelings for once!”

You whip around to stare daggers at Lemon. “Did you just throw a stapler at me?!”

He’s taking cover behind a grey cubicle not too far away. “Yeah, I did! I’m sick of you two avoiding an actual conversation. Talk—it—out!”

Tangerine sits up, pushing against your hands on his chest in your weak attempt to keep him down. “You’ve lost your mind, mate!”

“Thomas would say to express your feelings, that bottling them up is bad for you! So, express them!”

“Is it really necessary—” You pick up your rifle and fire blindly down the walkway, “—to do this now? We’re a little busy!”

“It’s now or never, I know you two! Once all this stops, you’ll avoid it!”

Tangerine looks perplexed, like he’s really considering it, and you try not to look at him again. “Fuck this job!” You shout, before rolling into the walkway and opening fire.

The two or three men that hadn’t been behind cover are caught by surprise and the bullets chew through the walls of the cubicles. A deadly silence permeates the office floor, only the ringing in your ears remains.

Another shot rings out and you feel like your shoulder’s been ripped from the socket.

You’re thrown back onto the ground. It must have been a heavy round, your left arm is completely numb, do you even have an arm left?

There’s shouting and more gunshots, the grey office walls and floor merge into one as the room spins. You’re getting pulled off the ground, someone is prodding your arm. Absentmindedly, you swat at whoever is doing it.

“Listen, hey, open your eyes!”

Tangerine…

You obey. He’s inches in front of your face, brows furrowed, a vein in his forehead sticks out.

“I’m fine.” You cough out. “Just fell down, is all.”

“You’ve been shot!”

“Oh.”

He struggles, he looks like he has more to say, but stays silent. You swat at Lemon who’s wrapping your arm—or shoulder, more accurately. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”

“You’re not fine.” Lemon grunts, pushing your hand away. “It was a .308 round. You’ll be lucky if you have any bones left in your shoulder.”

“Why’d you do that?!” Tangerine is shouting, running his hand through his hair. You both match now, he’s bandaged up on his left arm too.

“Do what?” You ask through gritted teeth as Lemon tightens the bandage.

“Run out like an absolute lunatic?”

“I told you I’d take a bullet for you.”

His eyes bug out. “You threw yourself into the line of fire!”

“All in a day’s work. Now, can we get back to it?” You don’t wait for a response, instead pushing yourself to your feet. Your left arm hangs to the side, limp and numb. A dull throb pulses through your side.

Tangerine watches you. “We need to have a serious discussion when this is over, love.”

You huff out a breath, swaying slightly. “Noted.”

The three of you push on in tense silence. Tangerine makes sure you’re behind him while the rest of the floors leading to the main penthouse office are cleared. He’s acting so stubborn, blocking you at every turn, holding you back with a gentle, yet unyielding hand. The vein in his forehead never goes away.

Finally, the double doors leading to the office are before you. Platinum gold, of course, with carved handles. This guy’s style was beginning to get obnoxious.

Lemon kicks open the doors with as much anger and prejudice as you feel (yet can’t muster at the moment). Instead of what you were expecting, the target stands alone behind his desk. He smirks, giving off a Wall Street investor impression with his pressed suit and perfectly cut hair.

He spreads his arms wide. “I really should have known you three would be together for this.”

“Shut up, wanker.” Tangerine shouts, pointing his gun.

The target opens his mouth to say more, but Tangerine doesn’t let him. He empties the clip into the man’s chest.

The target dies with a startled look on his face, falling back over his desk.

You move past Tangerine, fighting his hands that grip at your clothing. “Thank God for that.”

The computer is easily hacked, the files you’re after are on the desktop. Maybe the dead man was looking to bargain—or gloat. You glance at his dead, glazed over eyes.

Bastard.

Tangerine paces, looking at you often. His job is done, the confirmation is sent to the client through Lemon’s phone.

Your files are downloaded onto an encrypted flash drive, and you rip the wiring out of the computer’s back, smashing the server tower. Mission accomplished.

“I guess now that you have what you need, you’ll disappear again.” Tangerine is glaring at you, chewing his lip. His bandage is bloody.

The flood gates open.

“I needed these files!” You shout, worsening the headache you already have.

Tangerine shouts back, taking a step closer. “I would have understood if you had just told me!”

“I couldn’t have told you!”

“Why not?”

“Because—well—I didn’t—It doesn’t matter now!”

“So, you disappear for months, without a word, for something you won’t even tell me about?!”

“I didn’t want to involve you! I wanted to get this done myself!”

“I’m involved now!”

“It was a shitty coincidence you showed up here today, and I’m sorry you got hurt because of this job!”

“I’m not concerned about me!”

“Well, you should be! I care about your safety!”

“And I care about yours!”

In the corner, Lemon shakes his head.

You hold your arm, trying to work some feeling back into it. It throbs and you wish you hadn’t. “I would have come back after this was done.”

“Oh, really?” Tangerine laughs dryly. “How was I to know?”

You groan, throat turning dry. “You’re so impatient! I just needed a little time!”

“You know how often I tried to reach you—?”

“Yes! I heard every message, got every bouquet of flowers—and thank you for my porch, that was really nice.”

Tangerine flounders a little, he still wants to argue, but some of the steam has been let out. “A thank you would have been nice.”

“I’m thanking you now!”

“A whole good that did when I thought you were done with me—” He shoots a look at his brother, “—and Lemon!”

“I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand more times, Tangerine! Is that what you want?”

He turns his back to you, grumbling something.

“I don’t understand why it was such a big deal to you, we’re contractors! We kill people for a living, and you’re freaking out—”

He spins back around. “It’s a big deal because I thought you were hurt.” He stalks closer, you notice his hair has come undone from the neat gel, curls flair out around his neck. “I thought something happened to you!” He’s within arm’s distance now. “It’s a big deal because I love you!”

And then he stops. His eyes go wide, as if he’s just spilled a secret.

Fuck, he did just spill a secret. Maybe you had known, but he’s never said anything. It was always just little guesses here and there, a thought—a feeling—and inclination. Late nights, especially recently, that you spent thinking about it, wondering.

Your mouth falls open in the silence. “I—I…love…” but damned if your mouth just wasn’t getting it out.

Arguing and bickering was so much easier.

But he knows, he can see it in the way your eyes soften, in the way you swallow with a dry throat. In the way your hand reaches to him, and your body leans forward.

“You know…” Lemon says, looking up from his phone, “Most people would kiss at this point. Just a suggestion.”

A quip, a very fitting one, comes to mind and you’re about to tell Lemon just how you’re not normal people, when Tangerine pulls you to him. Your chest presses to his and his lips are on yours in an instant.

Hungry, needy. It’s desperate, an urgent need be close, to be touching. Burning with desire and hot with passion. You give into it.

His mustache scratches at your lips and you pull him into you, threading your fingers through his curly hair, mussing it up even more. His hands grip at your back, pull at your clothes.

Closer. You need to be closer.

Fuck air, the feeling of his lips moving against yours is the only thing you’ll ever need again.

Your arm throbs and the dull pulse shoots up to your chest. You sigh, half in pain and half in pleasure. Unfortunately, Tangerine pulls back. There’s blood on his lips and he looks concerned.

“Wait…” You mumble, trying to pull him back to you. He’s your lifeline now.

“You need a doctor, love.”

“Just a little longer.”

Tangerine chuckles, wrapping an arm around your back. “After you’re patched up. I promise.”

…Bonus…

“You’re going to ‘break into my house and wait for me to come home’?”

Tangerine groans, throwing his head back as you walk into the small office. Private clinics with ‘respectable’ doctors. Gotta love ‘em.

“Love, I didn’t mean it, I was in a life-or-death situation—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

You give a good-natured laugh, sitting next to him. You’d been patched up first, Tangerine was just waiting for some blood work to come back.

Tangling your fingers in his you give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m just teasing, Tan. I know.”

“Ok.” He sighs, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Good.”

You ruffle through your pockets to pull out your phone, your arm stings, but the pain medication the doc gave you does wonders. “I thought about it, I think you deserve to know why I was after your target.”

He looks at you with new interest now.

You tilt your screen to show him.

It had pictures of you and Tangerine. Pictures of you sitting together at lunch, laughing. Pictures of you walking down the street together, arm in arm. Pictures of you looking like a couple.

“Oh,” he breathes out, “I see.”

“I was worried you’d be put in danger if these…well, if they got into the wrong hands.”

“Didn’t want our clients to think we were softies either, huh?”

“That too.”

He presses his face into your hair. He hasn’t expressed his feelings for you again, but you’re starting to realize he always had—just through actions instead. A gentle hand on the small of your back. Wrapping an arm around your waist. Leaning down to speak softly into your ear.

These were just as much of an expression as words.

“Will we have to do this every time?” he asks, voice muffled slightly.

“Every time what?”

“It’s only a matter of time before more pictures of us make it into someone’s hands.”

“Oh. That’s a good point.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I’ll be dammed if I have to stop taking you out over that.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to kill whoever tries something like that again.”

“We’ll do it together next time, yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

#Tangerine x Reader #Fem!Reader #Tangerine Bullet Train #Bullet Train