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#thank you sky for the link!!! <3
namchyoon · 1 year
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RM_BOTTEGAVENETA.zip
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wayfayrr · 9 months
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The cannibros debut <3
This was written as a collaboration between me and my beautiful wife @angry-trashcan <3 We've been talking about some of the chain in hhau getting closer to Sage, mostly Sky and Twilight and about how this would happen. It started daily wholesome but now every time we talk it always loops back to one topic. But this is one of the best things I've ever written and definitely, the most fun thing to have written so everyone go and say thank you to my wife for making this so incredible to write <3
this is 2.5k words and a warning for vague cannibalism and for sky being "drunk" 💖
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“Is this supposed to taste like this?”
“What do you mean, this? There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I don’t know, It’s just bitter and ehhhh…”
“You fools wouldn’t know good if it hit you with it’s car. It tastes just fine.” Sage takes another drink.
“Well it’s a good thing you can’t drive isn’t it?” 
If looks could kill, Sky and Twilight would be six feet under by now. “It’s just an acquired taste. Better than… that shit.” He nudged his hand towards Sky.
“Alright, look you can take your old man's drink. I’m going to have fun with mine.” Sage’s glare can only barely be rivalled by Sky’s side-eye at that moment, with the knight's more playful aggression compared to the outright murderous look in Sage’s eyes. 
Twilight laughed at the two, taking a sip of his own drink. “No ‘fensse to ya, but I just think it tastes like hammered dog piss.” He shrugged.
“Rancher I’m fairly convinced you’ve killed your mouth to the point where you can’t taste anything. So you don’t really have an argument here.”
“You ain’t gotta clue what goes on with my mouth, thank ya very much.” The rancher finished his drink quickly.
Finishing his own Sky managed to slur out a few words, seemingly struggling with the alcohol far more than his companions. “Come on twi, we’re just havin’ some funnn…” 
Twilight gave the man a sideeye, “Yeah, buddy. We sure are.”
“I thought you said you game him something non-alcoholic this time?” with a nudge from Sage to get the ranchers' attention, it’s pretty clear there was a miscommunication somewhere, or Sky really is that light.
“I did.” He smiled, glancing over to the blonde. “It’s rootbeer. There ain’t nothin’ in it. I know we got things to do tonigh’.”
“THEN WHY IS HE ACTING SO DRUNK???” 
“..... whos acting drunk?”
“... don't worry about it Sky,”
“I can’t tell ya! I didn’t do nothin’!” Twilight looked between Sky falling into a chair and Sage. “It was just rootbeer. Unless… Wind.”
“Be careful what you accuse my son of rancher.”
“All I was gonna say was he may have switched the rootbeer out! Sounds like somethin’ he’d do.”
While this was going on Sage was trying to keep Sky from falling anywhere, or from getting too touchy for the moment. Seemingly it was working and should continue to work as long as he doesn’t get distracted. “Why would he make it Stronger?? If anything he’d steal the stronger drinks. Not that my son would do that.”
Suddenly that focus was lost as Sky slumped against sages side.
“Is he…alright?” Twilight’s question was answered with a snore. Sage looked up to Twilight with fire in his eyes.
“Not only did you accuse my son of spiking drinks. But now you’ve put Sky to sleep by doing it yourself.”
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!!” Twilight rose to his feet as another snore came from Sky.
“We have business tonight. How are we supposed to do that now?”
“I don’t know?! Leave him here? Let him think ‘bout what he’s done?!”
“WHAT HE’S DONE??? YOU MEAN WHAT YOU’VE DONE, WHAT ARE YOU JEALOUS OF SKY OR SOMETHING?”
“No, no not jealous.”
“THEN WHY DID YOU GIVE HIM ALCOHOL!?”
Meanwhile sky was laying limp against sage, the argument seeming to somewhat wake him up, but barely. Not enough for anything beyond a small whine as he tries to bury himself more into sages side, drawing a grimace and another murderous glare directed at Twi.
“I. Didn’t. Give. Him. Alcohol. What are you not gettin’ through ya head righ’ now?!”
“Well, I DIDN’T DO IT?!”
Meanwhile, deep inside the house (just inside the door) Warriors listened to their conversation. “I finally get it.” He whispered to himself before leaving the door, the curtains rustling behind him.
“... Twilight? Did you hear that? It looked like someone was watching us from inside…”
Sage’s suspicions were peaked from the fluttering curtains barely noticeable from where he was standing, but just enough for him to be concerned. Was someone watching him? Listening in on them? If so he might need to deal with them sooner rather than later. For now though… He’s got more present issues,  like how to deal with the drunken knight asleep on him.
Sage looked back to Sky, half awake and mumbling to himself. “Lets get you up and somewhat sober. We need to get going soon.” He shot another glare to Twilight before pushing Sky into a chair. “Watch him. I’m going to get water.”
Twilight watched the door close behind Sage before getting in Sky’s face, searching for any hint of alchol on his breath. Which there was none. “This fucker-”
Sage opened the door to find Twilight in Sky’s face and paused in the door way, glass of water in hand.
“I leave you alone for a minute… and you're already trying to make out with him when he’s blackout drunk?”
Sage gave no room for Twilight to defend himself, walking over glass in hand to push him away from Sky. Thankfully none of the water spilt, although he wouldn’t have been bothered to have gotten Twi wet. It saves the risk of leaving Twilight alone with Sky again.
“He can’t even consent to it!? Is this what you had planned from the start!?”
Twilight put his hands up “I was-”
Sage cut him off “Don’t even try. I saw what you were doing. All up in his face. You pervert.”
Twilight scoffed. “If you’d let me fin-”
Sage pushed him back, “I said I’m not having it.” He handed Sky the glass as carefully as he could manage, almost dropping it.
“Oh! More… ta drink!” Sky stumbled out.
“Yeah, bud. Thats what it is. Better hurry up and drink it!” Twilight couldn’t help but just stare at the duo.
“Come on sky, look the faster you sober up the faster we can get back to business.”
After a moment of battling with the drunken knight to get him to drink it was only a matter of minutes for him to come back to his senses. Without even the slightest trace of the hangover that should have followed had he been drunk. 
“Yeah, alright. Sorry about that guys I didn’t mean to get so drunk…”
Twilight watched this with a bitter expression like he knows something that in reality should have been as clear as day to them all. But for whatever reason wasn’t even considered in the panic.
He bit his tongue. “Should we be goin’ or no.” The way he said it was more of a statement than a question.
“You should be lucky I don’t tell Sky what you were trying to do to him before.” Sage hissed out, standing next to him. “Don’t let your hangry ass start complaing now.”
Sky looked between the two of them, “What was he-”
“Nothin’. Let’s get goin’.”
“Twilight was trying to kiss you before. Not like I’d let him before I could.”
“What are you two talking about??”
With Sky’s question staying unanswered, the trio of them retreated back into the main room, muttering their final ideas for the evening's business. Not quite expecting who was waiting for them in the room, looking like he knew so much more than he should. When he didn’t really know anything.
“Where are you three going then?”
Sage’s eyes narrowed on Warriors. “To the store. Do you need something while we are out?”
“I do, I’d rather just come along if that’s alright.”
“Rather ya didn’t.” Twilight spoke. Sky coughed next to him.
“Yeah, maybe some other time. But I’ll be sure to grab you some more hair gel while we are there.” Sage waved his hand in his direction as he turned to the door, reaching for his shoes.
“It wasn’t really a question.” Warriors smug look stayed planted on his face.
“Well, it’s a no.” Sage called as he walked out the door.
After slamming the door in Wars’ face they headed down to the garage in order to get to Sky’s car, knowing or in this case thinking that it wouldn’t be possible for Wars to follow them from here. 
“So can you remember who we’re going after today? Was it that coffee shop worker or the person from our love’s office again?”
“Coffee shop, He’s been pushing the limits again.”
“How long should it take then, I’d rather keep it short. And you need to get some hair gel now so we best be quick.”
As they all piled into the car their silence was tense, like something else was waiting to happen.
“Um… Hey guys.” A voice came from the backseat and all eyes slowly moved to it.
“Where the fuck did you come from.” Sage breathed out.
“Uh, inside the house?” Warriors laughed, scared.
“You probably should have stayed there.”
“I, I thought I would tag along-”
“I said NO.”
The air in the car was thick as everyone tried to steady their own breathing. Warrior’s eyes never leaving Sage’s.
“How much did you hear?” Sage’s voice was low, trying to keep the words steady.
“That - that you best be quick because you need hair gel as well?”
“Look… You should try to sound more confident when you lie captain.”
“I - I’m not lying. Why would I be lying to you?”
“Because you’re scared Wars. You’re scared of me.”
The air in the car chilled at this very moment, the weight of their combined words crushing Wars’ chest and leaving him gasping for air. He should be able to manage this. He’s the commander of the Hylian royal army… or he was. When he was in Hyrule. Twilight's stare only seemed to make things worse, the usual warm rancher now stone cold and judging him. 
“You have one more chance to tell us what you have heard. One.”
“You… are going to run some errands it seems.” He breathed out.
“Uh huh, what kind of… errands?” 
Warriors looked around the car for the first time, seeing the way Sky was looking at him through the mirror, the way Twilight’s eyes seemed to eat him alive, and Sage’s own stone cold gaze. “Something is going on with a coffee shop worker. ANd possibly an office employee?”
Sage nodded slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in right now, captian?”
“A lot?”
“A lot. More than you would have ever been in. You don’t have any soldiers to call for aid here.”
“... Alri-ight.”
The stares from people who were once his closest friends seemed to be getting to him now, gradually wearing down his mental state. Why did they go to Sage rather than stay by his side? What’s so much better about Sage?
“Wars. I don’t want to hurt you, you’re my friend. But you can’t just listen in on us like that.”
“Sky’s right. You can’t do that. And I suggest you don’t if you care for your safety.” “I- I won’t say a word.”
“See, that’s not what I’m worried about. Because I know that if you get out of this car, go inside and act like nothing happened tonight, you will eventually crack. There’s no doubt about it.”
Warriors took a deep breath, trying to push himself further into the seat of the car.
“But, if you come with us, and I show you what there is to be afraid of if you do crack? You won’t.”
Sky looked to Sage, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Sage shook his head, “Our options are kill him or take him. What do you say?”
“I say take me…”
“...Please don’t say it with that tone. It’s not a romantic thing. What are you assuming?”
“Well, twilight was trying to kiss you earlier no?”
For the first time since Wars was found within the car, the eyes were off of him as Sky turned back to twilight, mildly confused now.
“Yeah… about that…”
“Now isn’t the time sky.”
“Sorry.”
“But no. This isn’t romantic. It’s just business.”
Warriors nodded, sitting back in his seat when Sky put the car into reverse. The car pulled out of the garage and onto the empty street. Quickly picking up speed once it was out of view of the house.
“I ain’t gotta clue where ya learned to drive like this. But it’s damn fun I gotta say.”
Sky laughed a bit, turning onto the wider road. “I’ve watched a few of those Fast and Furious movies.”
Sage just hummed, his eyes watching Wars in the mirror. Warriors kept his gaze out the window the whole drive, noticing only when they pulled up to a small coffee shop.
“Twi did you remember the garlic powder today?”
“... Uhhh…”
With an overdramatic sigh and a look to Sky for some reassurance that not everyone is so hopeless at the moment Sage reached into the glove box for his emergency reserves. Pulling out a few small bottles of assorted spices, some more common and others that were harder to come by.
“I can’t stand to see you waste what could be a fantastic meal. Please Twi. Just use them.”
“Why would you need spices going into a coffee shop, I thought [name] said the food in there was all precooked and prepared for you?”
“You’ll see.”
Warriors swallowed as Twilight took a few of the spices from Sage, shoving them into his pocket. The car sat parked with the lights off for some time. Waiting for something it seemed. Sky broke the silence after nearly an hour. “There he is.” He sat up in his seat, pointing to a worker walking out.
“Well, you know the drill. Keep up with him until we get an opening. Lets go.” Sage opened his car door. Stepping out as the rest did the same. Warriors took a moment before he followed suit.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
They got onto the side walk, following a bit of a ways behind the man as he turned down a smaller road. Sage nodded and Sky slipped into an alley. A few groans and a muffled shriek was heard from around the corner before the caught up to the man. Turning into a connecting alleyway, they found them.
“Now twilight, you can have it fresh before the ‘stiffness’ sets in if you use the spices I gave you, or you can wait.”
Twilight’s stunned face at Sage’s blatant blackmail was enough to throw wars off, Fresh? No that doesn’t mean… But the corpse on the pavement proved otherwise. 
“You mean you’re actually- “
“Fine. I’ll salt it a little.”
Sky’s arms held him in place, not letting him look away, not that he would've been able to at this point. Morbid curiosity held him firmly in place. Twilight's movements were reminiscent of a rabid beast, one that hadn’t eaten in days as the body lost more features that could be used to determine its identity at a terrifying rate. Although true to his promise, He did salt it first.
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ariadne-mouse · 1 year
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“It is time.” With effort, Essek focused on the imposing figure of the Dusk Captain, flanked by two soldiers.  She had come to get him personally — how considerate. The meaning of her words took a few seconds to fully register.
Part 23/23 (complete) - Shadowgast - Rated T
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arecaceae175 · 1 year
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For the prompt game: salamander
“What is that?” Sky asked.
Wild held out the small creature cradled in his hands. “It’s a salamander!”
“But what is it?” Sky asked again. His hand was hovering near the creature as it squirmed in Wild’s hold.
“It’s kind of like a small, slimy lizard? They live mostly in water,” Wild explained. Sky nodded and continued to watch the creature with wide eyes.
Showing Sky new plants or animals from his Hyrule was on of Wild’s favorite things. Sky was always so entranced and he never lost an ounce of enthusiasm.
“Here, hold out your hands,” Wild said. Sky quickly complied, putting his hands flat with his pinkies touching.
“Are you sure I won’t hurt it?” Sky asked.
“You won’t hurt it. It’ll get away before you do. Cup your hands a little more- there, perfect. Ready?” Wild asked.
“Yes!” Sky answered without a second of hesitation.
Wild gently tilted his hands into Sky’s and the salamander scuttled into Sky’s hands. Sky gasped and smiled widely as he cupped his hands further around the salamander.
“You’re right, it’s so slimy!” Sky said with a laugh. Wild giggled along with him.
The salamander tried to crawl onto Sky’s arm and Sky jerked his hands to try to keep hold of it. The salamander got spooked and squirmed madly, and Sky lost his grip. The creature landed on the ground and very quickly ran back under the rocks in the stream.
“Oops,” Sky said. He was still smiling widely.
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Cast Off - part 1
Edit: I fixed the quality issue but it comes at the cost of having to physically write out the text and draw each text bubble. A small price to pay to be comprehensible.
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Next>
Transcript in case you can't read something:
Sky: Another one? Legend: How many could there possibly be? Twilight: I'm... here for the Wind Waker? Am I in the right place? Hyrule: Yep! Right place! (Ooo, nice tattoos) Wild: Alright, spill it! What's your role and name? Twilight: Well, I'm the new quartermaster, Twilight: And my name is Link. ... Four: ...Link? Twilight: Yes? Legend: How does this even happen?! Twilight: ...Someone please explain? Wild: Well... Hi, Link, I'm Link! I'm the assigned cook! That's Link! He's the navigation! This is also Link! He's the medic. Then we have Link, the lookout. And finally, Link! He's the cooper. Twilight: ... Are we all named Link?! Four: Unfortunately.
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lazuliquetzal · 2 years
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Bro I have a genuine question about dotf, but do you have like a full backstory for the Link that was executed? I’m being dead serious, I’d love to learn more of his backstory, if it exists. Simply because I think it’s very interesting.
OHOHO
okay, obligatory "I subscribe to Death of the Author, this is all up to interpretation, not canon to DotF, blah blah blah et cetera"
ANYWAYS,
In my head, Dead!Link was pretty boring, tbh. Good kid, handy with a knife, worked as a guard at Hylia's Temple, very devout.
I guess I don't really have a whole detailed backstory: it's more of a vibe? Like, imagine being a loyal follower of Hylia and suddenly people are witnessing you doing dark magic and attacking people. The only person who believes you is your sister, and she's trying desperately to find proof and also figure out what's going on but you can't find any evidence in your favor. Is someone you know and trust framing you? Did Hylia forsake you? Are you possessed? The stress of that.
Dead!Aryll's story has a bit more meat. She's able to figure out the Dark World/mirror thing -- she just figures it out too late. There's a whole adventure I'm never going to write where she puts it all together, shatters every mirror she sees, fights through the entire temple-turned-cursed-dungeon/clears the maze/finds the secret execution chamber -- only to fail because she can't handle the sound of her brother's agonized screams when she's trying to smash the mirror. But that's already implied in-text so.
Oh!! New behind-the-scenes detail that I could NOT get to work: the reason why the area is cursed into becoming a salt flat?
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I was inspired by photos of Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia. Originally I was gonna have that final fight on the salt-mirror, but you can't smash a salt flat haha. I loved the setting so much that I ended up keeping it anyway.
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tired-sky-lian · 2 years
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When you kill a God, what do you become?
Hello everyone!! After a bit of a break, I’m back to writing kind-of a longfic for the LU now that I’m back in the groove of things. And soon, I’ll be adding it to the Sky-centric Fic recommendations list as a little bit of horn-tooting lmao. I’ll post each individual chapter both on here and on AO3 by the same name, and here on Tumblr, I’ll be using the tag #What Do You Become Fic And now, the main event<3
Summary
The presence felt suffocating, like an otherworldly creature was smothering him with their existence alone. His companions choked on the air, falling to their knees as he just barely managed to kneel. Something within the light reached out, if his sight was not a blur, he could almost make out the shape of a hand. The ringing, like a screaming choir in his head, raised to a deafening song. A heated, heavy pressure laid against his head, erasing the existence of thought, as his mind was blanketed in white. Then, like a slice in the air, everything went black. ----- Sky killed a God, locked him away forever. What does he get out of that? A reoccurring headache and another unwanted journey.
Language: English Words: 3,864 Chapters: 1/?
-----
Chapter 1
The Beginning, The Family
An ancient young man sat upon the hardwood roof of the Lon Lon Ranch barn, holding a dozing cuccoo between his arms. He tasked himself with the thoughtless task of watching over his fellow travelers as they playfully sparred in the fields below. It was easier to focus on their movements when the air was easier to breathe. Currently, Four and Warriors were going at it, both having ditched their tunics in the early morning for light undershirts. The shorter of the two had no qualms with fighting dirtier than the knight. Barely coming up to his opponent’s waist was a benefit, giving Four ample room to dive under his legs, delivering a punctual kick behind the knight’s kneecaps. Flailing about like a ragdoll, Warriors tumbled over forwards with a shout of “ That’s not tournament legal! ”
Everyone laughed below as Warriors dusted the dirt from his pants, ignoring the cheeky look Four plastered on. Wind, who was coated in enough dirt that he looked like the second coming of Wild, turned from the group up to his predecessor on the roof.
“Hey, Sky! Come play with us!” The child shouted.
“We aren’t playing.” Warriors said, slicking a hand through his dirt ridden hair. “We’re sparring.”
Wind turned to stare Warriors in the eyes, and whipping his head back up to Sky, he shouted, “We’re playing!”
Sky chuckled, bringing his feet under him and cradling the cuccoo to his chest. The roof wasn’t too far off of the ground, and much shorter than thousands of feet.
“There’s a ladder to the left,” Twilight, ever helpful and only wearing one sleeve, walked from his place in the circle of heroes to a wall of the barn.
Leaning over the edge, Sky could see his sailcloth bundled on the ground, along with his other two tunics and chainmail, all a layer of cloth between Fi and the dirt. So, he didn’t have as many layers on as usual, he’ll be fine. Much to the, very vocal, shock of the others, he tipped over the edge headfirst.
Curling into a roll as he hit the ground, the forward momentum helped in the efficiency of springing back onto his feet. The ball of feathers in his arms chirped in displeasure, and suddenly everyone else was either frozen with horror on their face, or slowly backing up. He still doesn’t understand why they’re all afraid of the lovely little birds, something all of the rest of them share.
“Oh, relax.” He said to the rest of the group. With one hand, he smoothed the ruffled feathers of the cuccoo. He placed the poor thing back into it’s fenced-in coop, and a few of the other birds came to meet him. He lent over the wooden fence to graze his hands through their feathers.
Turning back to the others, he pressed a knuckle to his lips to prevent any laughter from spilling out. There they stood, the Heroes of Courage, looked dead terrified of a couple of small avians.
"Alright boys," His light, white shirt rustled in the soft breeze as he took a place within the circle. "I'm going to need a sword."
Time was the first to scoop his jaw from the floor.
"I think I have something you can use, one of Malon’s." The eldest stepped into the house for a brief second where Malon and Wild were both working to make a meal for ten.
In the corner of his eye, he could see Twilight walking his way back to the group to stand next to him. It wasn't hard to tell the rancher wanted to say something, his feet kicked up dirt as he shuffled and he was practically drilling a hole into the side of his head.
As conversation arose in the field, the house door reopened.
The thin blade Time returned with piqued Sky's interest.
"Here," He tossed the sword over once he was back in the circle.
The blade was much lighter than the Master Sword. With a flick, the air whistled as it parted by a swipe of the blade. He twisted the handle in his palm, fingers just brushing underneath the ornate knuckle guard.
Turning his head back up to Time, he was greeted with a soft smile.
"Thank you, Time. "
Sky stepped forward into the ring, stepping onto the edge of a dirt circle. Quickly, Four scrambled out of the circle, Warriors two steps behind.
"Any takers?"
Legend, sitting on a log he had dragged from the nearby woods, scoffed. “And get my shit wrecked? I’ll pass, thanks.”
Both Wars and Time tried to get a word in, maybe say something about ‘Being a team player’ or ‘ Don’t be an ass’ . However, Twilight stepped up to the ring before either could speak with a “I’m down.”
Wind, the boundless ball of energy he is, decided to be Twilight’s hype-man, dragging him to the otherside of the circle. The youngest practically ripped the practice sword used in previous rounds from Wars’s grasp and threw it hilt-first into Twilight.
“Now I wanna see good work out there, rancher!”
Wind started circling Twilight like a vulture, or an eager coach with too much on the line to lose. “We have money on the line for your victory!”
Twilight turned to stare at Wind with nothing less than shock on his face.
“You- You do?”
“Of course not, dumbass, we just started.”
Hyrule walked to the center of the circle, elected top play referee. “Are you two ready?”
Sky nodded, Twi slowly doing the same as the two walked into the ring. The circle itself couldn’t be called large, but there was more than enough room to fit two opponents. He could stuff eight other fighters in the ring, swing, and miss by a longshot. With the thin sword at his side, he stood little more than two steps away from the center, with Twilight an imperfect mirror.
“Okay,” Hyrule started. “Do I need to go over the rules, Sky?”
“No need, I could hear Wars scream the rules from the roof.” Twilight and Hyrule both laughed from that. Warriors, heel in the dirt, let out an indignant shriek.
“Then, let’s get ready.” Hyrule stepped backwards outside the ring. And, without further instruction, Sky lifted his blade to cross in air with Twilight’s own broadsword.
“I’m not goin’ easy on you.” Twilight smirked, they both took two steps further back.
“Fine by me.” Sky lowered his sword. The twitching of Twilight’s fingers against his blade caught his eye. The other was getting impatient The air was thicker, smothering from the dying light of the sun as it straddled the horizon line. As all his incarnations watched every slight move he made, breathing the air became a weighted task on his lungs.
“Begin!”
The first rule to sword fighting is one everyone has heard of. You circle your opponent like prey. Be patient, and soon they’ll make the first move. Whether out of recklessness or impatience, your opponent will come running in. So, Sky put his age-old lessons to test. The first step he took to begin his stalk, Twilight followed in parallel. He took another, and Twilight followed. Perfect.
With deft footing, he continued to walk around in the circular pathing, schooling his face to a mere smile. It didn’t take much longer for Twilight to start showing brief, fleeting signs of restlessness. Though he would never admit it, Twilight has yet to perfect a poker face. It was much too easy to predict the first swing
Twilight dashed in once his impatience had reached his limit, going in for a few, brief strikes with his strength following through each swing. Each was more difficult to dodge than the last, blocking with the blade was out of the question. He wasn’t sure if the thin silver would shatter under the force of Twilight’s swing.
Defensive it was.
With a duck, the broadsword swung over his head, leaving a wide opening on the rancher’s side. It was easy to rush in and flick the light blade right against his ear. However, Twilight managed to stumble across the uneven dirt backwards.
Sky lifted his head, settling back on his heels, giving the other a few seconds to readjust his footing. From the sidelines, the audience cheered and murmured amongst themselves. Some trying to be ' helpful ' and throwing well-known advice into the ring.
"Knock him down while he's unsteady!" Thanks for the advice, Warriors, but Sky wasn't going for cheap shots.
Twilight rushed in again, whipping the blade to slice near Sky's abdomen. With only a second to spare, Sky bent backwards to press his free hand into the dirt, and with a fluid motion, managed to give a kick to Twilight’s jaw as he pulled off a back handspring.
This time, Twilight was quicker to recover. Then came the onslaught of strikes. Sky had to dodge each with backwards steps or full-body movements. His heel passed the dirt-drawn line and he tensed, awaiting the call from Hyrule for a penalty, or to declare a winner.
When nothing came from the traveler, and with a quick glance to ensure nothing would, Sky took another step out of the ring. He was backing up towards the forest, gaining towards the trees with every swing from the rancher.
He went for a jab with the sole goal of possibly gaining more ground. The parry that followed almost knocked the blade from his hands.
Twilight stopped, too kind for his own good, and asked "You alright?"
In all honesty, no. He was tired, the air was far too dense to breathe, and he was starting to get hungry. Even so, he grinned something fierce with his teeth on display. The slight heaving of his chest did little to help the appearance of power.
"Better than you'll be." With nothing more than his speed and blade, he rushed back in. It took Twilight too long to bring his blade back up, leaving him mostly defenseless. Sky managed a strike, resulting in a shallow nick just below the eye in a laughable mimicry to Time’s markings.
At that moment, the flat of a blade threw him off balance. Right, Twilight must have taken advantage of the opening during his strike. In a real fight, he'd most likely be bleeding out on the ground for that lapse in thinking.
Twilight approached, and Sky almost rolled his ankle on a tree root as he stepped backwards. With his back against a tree, he waited. The rancher came running, sword arm reared back as if he was hoisting a javelin.
The sword hit with a thunk , Twilight’s hand frozen on the handle as cold metal rested on the forehead. Sky stood above him, smiling with bared teeth as he held the attenuate blade. He stood atop the broadsword struck into the tree.
"Sky wins!" Hyrule called.
"How did you-?" Twilight let go of the sword, and Sky had to jump off before he slid off.
"It's easy, with a strike to the center, your options to get out of the way are limited. So, I chose up."
"Huh," Twilight yanked the broadsword from the tree following behind as they walked back to the circle of heroes. Hyrule meets the rancher halfway with glowing hands, already set on healing the small gash on his cheekbone.
Wind, the wondrous child he is, bounded to Sky's side with a million questions falling from his lips.
"What kind of sword is that anyway?" Made him pause. He didn't really know. The only type of sword ever created on Skyloft were broadswords. There wasn't exactly a forge on small islands in the sky to make more. Even his woodcarving knives had to be specially ordered from Gondo's scrap shop.
"I don't know, but Time might. He did say-"
"He said it was Malon’s favorite!" Wind gasped, and stepped in front of him with a look in his eye. The kind of look that spelled mischief. "We should go ask her!"
"Whoa, hey-" Without a care, Wind practically hauled Sky through the field until they were bursting through the door to Time and Malon’s cozy ranch house. The large noise startled the two cooks inside, Wild ducking to catch a falling glass jar.
"Sorry about that," Sky gently closed the door behind him.
"Wind, the pies won't be done for another twenty minutes-"
"That's not what I came in here for! Miss Malon!" Wind turned on his heel, holding his hand out. Sky dropped the blade's handle into his palm. With a turn, Wind walked into the kitchen area with the blade pointed to the floor, Sky walking a few steps behind.
"What kinda sword is this?"
"First off," Malon placed her hand on the hilt, and Wind let go. "It's my sword, and not very well made at that." She walked into the living area, reaching to place the sword back in the small holders atop the fireplace. "For what it lacks in strength, it makes up well for in speed. They say the quicker draw always wins."
"Easier to get more hits in, too." Wild said from where he sat himself on top of the counter next to the sink.
"If you wouldn't mind getting skewered, lad." Malon laughed.
"Sounds eventful." Wild picked a loose apple from the decorative basket on the counter and tossed it over to Sky. And, because Sky was watching Malon at the time, got an apple tossed at his temple.
"Shit, Sky, I'm sorry-"
"No no, it's all good."
While Wind decided to berate Malon with more questions, none of which she looked sure on the answers for, a few of the others walked in, with Time and Warriors at the lead. Time went straight for his wife, while nestling a hand in Wind's absolutely wild hair. Meanwhile, Warriors sprawled against the sofa, trying to trip Legend with an outstretched heel as he walked by.
Picking the apple from the floor, Sky stood up to the sink and dunked it under the running faucet. Wild, still sat cross-legged on the counter stared down to him.
"Really though, I think you should sit down for a bit."
"If this is about my health again, really. I'm alright." Being one of the less… well built members of the group brought out frequent concerns. He was tired of hearing them, but on the other hand, it was pleasant to know they cared enough to mention it.
"Well, yes but no. Hold up, it's easier if you-" Wild turned, taking the odd slate from his hip and pressing his fingers against the surface. When he turned the screen over, Sky could see a perfect mirrored copy of himself.
"You have some gray hairs, just about here." Wild leaned over and tugged a few strands of hair from where they rested beside his face. Sure enough, they were discolored from the rest. Though, the strands weren't gray. From what he could tell in the lighting, the strands were white.
The apple dropped into the sink, rolling around the metal basin. A piercing throb built in his brain, an unseeable dagger slowly chipping away at his skull. It grew to rolling thunder in his mind, a pressure stormed behind the sockets of his eyes.
A hand was on his shoulder. He had to tear his white knuckles from the edges of the basin.
“Are you alright, Sky?” The worry on Wild’s face made something in his stomach drop. His throat tightened, and his already terrible breathing suddenly became unbreakable to attempt. Sky pressed his eyes shut, he needed to calm down.
The laugh he gave was more akin to a breath. He coughed, then cleared out his uncooperative throat. "I think I'll sit down."
He waved off the concern of Malon as she walked back around. Instead, his eyes slipped shut as he focused on the growing conversations; listening to the voices themselves and not bothering to pay attention to the words. He hesitated to ask for something cold to press against his forehead, to ask Hyrule if there was anything he could heal in his head.
A small bump to the side brought his attention to the rancher. Frankly, he looked sheepish, but his arms were full of Sky's gear with Fi nestled on top.
He could punch himself- he left her outside.
"Hey, I didn't know if you'd be coming back outside to get all this or not." Twilight maneuvered his way into the seat beside him.
"I'm sorry, I can't believe I-"
"Hey, no worries about it. Nothing happened to the sword." Twilight lifted the Master Sword from the pile and Sky laid her across his lap, one hand on the hilt and the other on the middle of the scabbard. If she could speak, if she wasn't eternally asleep within the blade, she'd probably run the calculations of the possibility of being taken right from under the nose of nine well-fought heroes. Then she'd tell him not to worry, she was never at risk.
He rested the sword against his knees, keeping one hand wrapped around the blade, as dinner was placed around him bit by bit. The others took their seats and chatted around the table. The drums playing relentlessly against his brain made it difficult to follow any of the conversations.
After the bountiful dinner, of which he picked at, Sky declined an offer to sleep in a crowded guest bedroom. There was a perfectly free cucco coop with a heap of hay in the barn.
The layers were easy to throw back on. The chainmail might be stiff, but the weight it brought made putting it on worth it.
As he laid on the scratchy pile, a few of the more curious and adventurous cucco decided to make him their new bed. One of the more comfortable birds made his hair into a nest. The small, heavy breathing of the fat birds lulled him into a blissful moment of nothingness.
He didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of a night by hissing cuccos and hushed, frantic whispers. As his muddled mind began to work, the ache in his head had decreased to a slow thrum in his rest, he slipped an eye open.
Both WIld and Twilight stood in the small clearing in the barn, with Wild hiding partly behind a very apprehensive Twilight. The two heroes looked ready to dart at any slight movement, even if they were fully armed with their swords strapped to their backs. It was hilarious how afraid all his companions were over the birds. Frankly, they’re harmless.
The cucco on his head had latched onto his hair with its beak as he sat up.
“Hey Sky!” Wild peaked from behind Twilight, hood pulled over his hair.
“Wild, Twilight, what’s-” Another one of the cuccos, the one resting on his hip, began hissing, feathers puffed to make itself look bigger than it already is. With a few strokes, the bird was already calming. "Sorry, what did you…"
Twilight had backed up a fair amount, Wild was outside peeking through the barn door. Sky had to stifle a laugh as Wild asked "Is it all clear?"
"They're not going to harm you, they're just birds."
Twilight chucked, Wild walking back in with a serious facade with a finger pointing to Sky's nose.
"That's what they want you to think. Second you turn your back, they pick off your skin with their teeth!"
"Cub," Twilight looked exhausted, pulling Wild back with a hand to his shoulder. "We've talked about this. Cuccos don't have teeth."
"And that's weird, right!"
The rancher, choosing to bypass that conversation, turned his attention back to the chosen hero.
"We wanted to know how you were doing. It looked like you were a little rattled today, so we wanted to check in."
"I still think he's stressed. You see the white hairs?" Wild walked over to sit beside his knee, dragging Twilight along. Having to brush a few of the birds away first, the two drew in closer. Wild, tactless as ever, dug his fingers into Sky's hair to bring out the white strands. The cucco in his hair looked mildly offended at the intrusion.
"You might be right. The old man doesn't even have white hair yet." With knitted brows, Twilight then cocked his head like a dog.
Dropping his hand from Sky's hair, Wild not-so-subtly, leaned over to whisper to Twilight, "You'd think it'd be Time or Legend who would go gray first."
Twilight bent at the waist trying to hold in his laughter, a snort bypassing his hands.
Sky chuckled through his words. "Thank you both for coming. I'll admit, there's been a pain in my head, along with my other issues. However, I do want to know why you two are up at this hour. I'd thought you'd be dead to the world in your beds." Sky watched on, Twilight scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish look, trying to give Wild a nondescript nudge to explain. The cook gave him an unimpressed stare before taking a second to think.
"I didn't manage to fall asleep in the first place. I guess Twilight hadn't either, only because he caught me sneaking out of the room." He nudged the rancher with an elbow, and Twilight responded in kind.
"If there was anyone else in our room, you would've woken them. It didn't seem like you were too worried on being quiet to me. And yeah, I was already skimping on sleep, so don't worry too much on it." Twilight stood, brushing the clinging hay from his pants as he went. "We won't disturb your sleep any more, I reckon we woke you, didn't we?"
"Don't worry too much about it, I believe I've gotten more than the both of you combined. Thank you both for your company.”
“I’ll see if Roolie has anything for headaches in the morning. He’s like, a whole walking clinic, he’s gotta have something .” Wild stretched, and in a swift movement, was standing next to Twilight.
The first step the two made towards the door was interrupted by a distant, familiar chiming noise. And then the pull.
A blinding, searing light grew from the space between the three, nothing like the dark portals the heroes had been traversing through. The wind picked up in the dusty barn, flinging dust and hay around the three. Sky stumbled to his feet, discharging the squealing birds from his person as the light grew to reach out into the air.
The presence felt suffocating, like an otherworldly creature was smothering him with their existence alone. His companions choked on the air, falling to their knees as he just barely managed to kneel.
Something within the light reached out, if his sight was not a blur, he could almost make out the shape of a hand. The ringing, like a screaming choir in his head, raised to a deafening song. A heated, heavy pressure laid against his head, erasing the existence of thought, as his mind was blanketed in white.
Then, like a slice in the air, everything went black.
17 notes · View notes
jaylaxies · 9 months
Text
ROMAN HOLIDAY
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PAIRING: jake x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.
WC: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.
PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3
Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile. 
It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school. 
Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month. 
And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home? 
It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.  
You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years. 
You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile. 
It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard. 
Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid. 
“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in. 
A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey. 
She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child. 
It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way. 
Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars. 
However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there. 
Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything. 
“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice. 
“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely. 
The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for. 
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You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her. 
It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug. 
She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment. 
“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area. 
“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be. 
Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you. 
It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations. 
Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts. 
“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile. 
“Yes, Gigi?” 
“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked. 
You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son. 
You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue. 
Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty. 
“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy. 
“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim. 
She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same. 
“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked. 
“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.” 
“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse. 
It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother. 
This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party. 
“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen. 
“Of course,” you smiled. 
It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up. 
With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance. 
The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether. 
A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk. 
“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up. 
You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.” 
His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake. 
“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating. 
“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 
“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs. 
Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt. 
What even made him think about you being a good girl?
Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily. 
You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door. 
“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun. 
The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness. 
“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table. 
He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to. 
You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner. 
He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work. 
Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly. 
“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son. 
Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent. 
So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”
“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing. 
Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed. 
Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady. 
You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question. 
“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly. 
Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone. 
Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all. 
“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave. 
“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you. 
“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated. 
You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.
Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face. 
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You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself. 
Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard. 
Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it. 
The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug. 
You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed. 
“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around. 
Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view. 
“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question. 
He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”
His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it. 
“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini. 
Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.  
Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock. 
Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response. 
“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain. 
“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again. 
You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.  
That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips. 
Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile. 
He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier. 
Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer. 
He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?” 
“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong. 
He didn’t let it happen. 
Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette. 
“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired. 
He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake. 
Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 
Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress. 
“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. 
You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar. 
Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed. 
Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again. 
Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow. 
Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth. 
You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again. 
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In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner. 
You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment. 
“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed. 
You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go. 
“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him. 
Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile. 
You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all. 
Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless. 
It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.
What exactly was Jake up to? 
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In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home. 
Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.  
You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance. 
It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him. 
“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness. 
It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses. 
This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature. 
“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more. 
It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening. 
“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back. 
You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies. 
“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile. 
Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call. 
It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics. 
The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into. 
You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord. 
“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question. 
“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored. 
A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked. 
“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place. 
Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked. 
He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again. 
“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension. 
“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded. 
“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly. 
You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself. 
Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?
Another sigh left your lips. 
You shouldn’t get involved in his matters. 
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You got yourself involved in his matters. 
Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake. 
It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble. 
For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in. 
Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate. 
You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly. 
“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you. 
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 
“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to. 
Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade. 
“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched. 
You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall. 
The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess. 
“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head. 
“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it 
He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down. 
Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door. 
Silence. 
Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further. 
“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall. 
You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way. 
“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you. 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say. 
He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you. 
He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes. 
“W—why?” You asked. 
“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size. 
Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him. 
“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip. 
“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”
You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances. 
“So, why were you out there?” 
“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room. 
“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store. 
“So what?” He uttered, pissed. 
“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down. 
“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained. 
The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib. 
Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered. 
“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy. 
“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger. 
It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself. 
He sighed, “let’s get you home.”
“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk. 
“We’re driving back home.”
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You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly. 
“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you. 
It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate 
You had no idea where he learned that from. 
“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames. 
He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere. 
“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work. 
You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt. 
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream. 
“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat. 
Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes. 
“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt. 
“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere. 
You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all. 
“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable. 
His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road. 
“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place. 
It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night. 
You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you. 
“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand. 
All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something. 
“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged. 
“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours. 
Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you. 
“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide. 
“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. 
“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice. 
“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him. 
“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone. 
You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed. 
It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room? 
He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you. 
“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room. 
“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face. 
“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.
“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked. 
You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night. 
Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him. 
Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun. 
“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined. 
He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”
“That’s not it—”
“So? Is it the boyfriend?”
“I don’t have any—”
“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”
“He’s a friend—”
“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped. 
You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes. 
“Right?” He repeated. 
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly. 
“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”
“I’m not!” You argued. 
“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused. 
His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips. 
“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise. 
You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you. 
“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious. 
“What?” You were surprised by his question. 
He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly. 
“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps. 
“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed. 
“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed. 
“Jake—”
“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in. 
His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. 
You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response. 
“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours. 
“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss. 
“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap. 
There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes. 
“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes. 
“That’s a good girl.” 
He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it. 
His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him. 
Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him. 
You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips. 
You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation. 
“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit. 
He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure. 
Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you. 
The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers. 
Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?” 
You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss. 
The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you. 
It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen. 
“Undress,” he ordered. 
“What—”
“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly. 
His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further. 
“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath. 
His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations. 
He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth. 
“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep. 
“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit. 
There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body. 
“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open. 
Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances. 
“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked. 
Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure. 
Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm. 
Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt. 
Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed. 
“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you. 
His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock. 
“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock,  princess,” he demanded. 
Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge. 
“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face. 
You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration. 
“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”
You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face. 
“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush. 
Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 
You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”
You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger. 
He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him. 
He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him. 
His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot. 
Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions. 
“Daddy—please!”
Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss. 
You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard. 
He was perfect. 
Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face. 
“Good night, princess.”
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Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on. 
And he was sure to make your desires come true. 
You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least. 
He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him. 
Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?
His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy. 
His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned. 
His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck. 
You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through. 
You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time. 
“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness. 
That’s one good way to wake up in the morning. 
“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room. 
You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.  
You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing. 
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The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim. 
More importantly, Jake. 
It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake. 
Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place. 
He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds. 
Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence. 
He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.
However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running. 
“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms. 
“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes. 
“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering. 
“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter. 
You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you. 
“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone. 
“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit. 
“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after. 
“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over. 
“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again. 
This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that. 
He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted. 
“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy. 
He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy. 
“I’ll always want my princess.”
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3
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summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻
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“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”
Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.
No answer. 
What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    
“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 
They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 
The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.
A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 
“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”
He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!
“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 
“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”
“...Quaritch?” 
Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?
“In the flesh.” 
Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”
“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”
“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”
The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 
This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—
“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”
Silence again. 
“What do you want?”
“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”
Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”
“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”
“Fucking bastard—”
With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 
You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 
“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”
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“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 
Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?
Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”
“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 
“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”
“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”
“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 
“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”
“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”
“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”
He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 
“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”
“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”
“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 
He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  
“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”
That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 
“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”
“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”
“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”
“Guys, what’s going on…”
Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.
“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”
“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”
“I didn’t, you—”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did n—”
“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”
Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”
“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”
“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”
His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 
“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”
“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”
“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”
“Bro, you’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 
He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”
The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”
And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”
“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”
“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”
It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”
It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 
“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”
“You’re asking me?—”
The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”
Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”
Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”
“Great title for your autobiography.”
Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 
Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.
It wasn’t Tuk. 
Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 
The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  
He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”
All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”
The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 
The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”
“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.��
“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”
“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”
Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.
She nodded. “I know dad.”
He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 
Just what was happening? What had you done? 
Eywa, it had to be sky people. 
Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 
Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.
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You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 
(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”
Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.
And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.
“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.
What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)
You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 
Think, think! How could you get out of this?
Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 
It was mom. 
Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 
Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.
But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.
All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 
You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 
How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up
All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.
“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 
You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.
Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”
“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.
In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 
“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”
You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 
Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 
Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 
At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  
Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  
His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 
“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”
You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’
But you were tired. 
Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 
Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”
He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 
Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 
Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 
Got an ikran for nothing. 
Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?
But no words were exchanged about it. 
Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 
A ticking time bomb. 
Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 
And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 
Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 
Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 
Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.
Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”
He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.
The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    
And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 
“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”
“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”
Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 
“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 
Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”
You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”
“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 
You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 
A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 
Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”
When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 
Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 
“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 
“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”
Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.
A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 
“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”
“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”
But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”
The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.
“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”
Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!
Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”
The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 
Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    
And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   
It was over.
Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”
“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”
Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 
Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.
“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 
And you fulfilled his wish. 
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dumbseee · 9 months
Text
stalker. pt.2.
masterlist.
charles leclerc x reader. / ? x reader.
fc: lalisa manoban.
note: thanks you guys for 1k!!! i love seeing everyone’s reactions to my aus it really warms my heart <3 i love youuuuuuu <333
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie, francisca.cgomes and 1 007 819 others.
y/n: thanks again @.apmmonaco for inviting me again! raising money for charity is something really important for me, and i’ll continue to do it till the end. you can donate too right here: www.donateforcharity.com
_
fan1: a fucking goddess
fan2: charles fumbled HARD
fan3: men really can’t handle bad bitches
isahernaez: stunning!
fan4: the fact that they were ALL there lmao
fan5: apparently they were sitting near each other…
fan6: where is deuxmoi when you need them.
fan7: how to be a fly in that room tbh
fan8: can we STOP talking about musty charles and appreciate y/n’s beauty and work for charity??
fan9: y/n can do better than him anyway, her family literally owns half of monaco
view all 30 738 comments.
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liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestie, maxfewtrell and 886 628 others.
y/n: enjoying some sun with friends :)
_
fan1: "friends" hm? then why is your fucking bestie still in monaco, y/n???
fan2: and who tf is that?
fan3: GUYS CHILL let the girl catch some dicks omg
fan4: i hope charles is crying rn
fan5: nah but charles must be regretting all his life choices
fan6: i wonder who that friend is
fan7: she looks so good tho
fan8: let’s stop talking about HER love life she’s a grown ass adult
fan9: my girl is thriving we love to see it <3
view all 12 792 comments.
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you did your best to ignore the look in people’s eyes when they saw you in the paddock. after all, what was a driver’s ex girlfriend doing here? to be fair, you didn’t even know yourself, but he asked you to come and for a reason that is still foreign to you, you said yes. because who could say no to him?
it felt weird tho, coming here alone and supporting someone else, it was weird to you. especially because your ex boyfriend was here with the girl he cheated on you with. no wonder everyone was looking at you. but you didn’t care, you knew why you were here, and charles wasn’t going to ruin this moment.
"y/n!" a familiar voice made you sigh in relief, it was your friend, lily. she greeted you with her signature smile and hugged you tightly. "i haven’t seen you in such a long time." she took a step back and you smiled at her. you loved this tiny woman so much, she was a huge support for you during the breakup and even now. "i missed you too! where is alex?" you asked, your friend’s boyfriend not in sight which was weird because these two were tied at the hip. "doing interviews with logan. but let’s not talk about boys, how are you?" you two linked arms and walked through the paddock. "i’m fine actually, it’s weird but i think i’m moving on." you smiled and looked at the sky, knowing exactly why you were moving on so quickly. "i’m happy then." she smiled back but it dropped away from her face quickly, when she saw something in your way. when you followed her gaze you chest tightened when you saw charles and his girlfriend. when she saw you she immediately jumped in charles’s arms to kiss him, which caught him off guard and annoyed him.
an arm on your shoulder finally snapped you out of it, when you looked on your right to see who suddenly appeared next to you, you saw him. and all your sorrow immediately disappeared like rain when the sun is shining.
"hi, beautiful." he said, and you couldn’t help but smile.
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liked by y/n, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 729 099 others.
carlossainz55: red is still your color by the way.
_
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taglist: @sassyheroneckgiant @ssararuffoni @myescapefromthislife @idkiwantchocolatee @motorsp0rt @leclercdream @janeholt3 @ivegotparticulartaste @shessthunderstoms @doromoni @judespoision @ariagonzalezsstuff @angelayse @notleclerc @sm3156 @rainerax @shinrjj @ferrariloverr
(i couldn’t tag everyone :( so i just wrote the @)
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ship bingo thing: sky/yang? velvet/pyrrha?
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Sky/Yang the benefits for both of them are a lover who sews chaos with you, goes to parties/bars, and can carry you on your shoulders <3 (Alright, who was in my brain with this dawn ask?)
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Velvet/Pyrrha two human weapons(human armory?), both of their own design, yes please
ship bingo
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delusionisaplace · 4 months
Note
Quotes for the opposites attract kind of pairing ? Maybe like the upbeat, energetic and spontaneous character x the moody, serious, do things by the book and likes quiet character ?
i kinda already did smth like this (link here) butttttt i had a couple of ideas for the first one that i didn’t use, so im gonna do this again :)
𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩: 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙙𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙥𝙩.2
have fun with these :) | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask nd ill respond as soon as possible | tag me if you use any bc i love seeing what you guys write :))
“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to wonder why it was so peaceful.”
“Isn’t it so beautiful today?” “…it’s raining?”
“Let’s go do something, anything!” “It’s 3 in the morning…”
“I like being alone, but everything feels so lonely whenever you’re not around.”
“If you like it, then I like it.”
“Why do you keep smiling at me?” “Because you look like you need it.”
“You never seem to worry about anything.” “Well, there’s no point in worrying if you’re here, right?”
“You’re the brightest star in my night sky." “I'm just being myself."
“I bought you this little plant; it reminded me of you." “Thanks. I'll try not to kill it.”
“Did you see that dog? It was so adorable!” “I guess it was cute, in an ugly type of way."
“I saw this new ice cream place just down the block—we have to try it!” “I don't really like sweets... but sure, I guess.”
“I made us breakfast!” “You didn't have to do that, but... thank you.”
“I love your playlists. They're so unexpected, if that makes sense.” “They're just songs, nothing special.”
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” “I didn’t really have any plans so if you want to, we can.”
“You're always so helpful.” “It's not a big deal, I just…do whatever I can to make you happy.”
“I saw your favorite book on sale and thought of you.” “You remembered... thank you.”
“God, somehow you always know the right thing to say to make me smile.”
“We might not have anything common, but still…I’m lucky to have you.”
and sorry it took me like 2 months to get to this 😭 that’s my bad
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honkytonk-hangman · 2 months
Text
How It's Done – Oneshot Version
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader
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Originally posted by unicornships
Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD
Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3
Words: 11.6k!
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“Well, I’ll be damned…”
You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.
It makes your teeth grind.
It makes your face hot.
“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.
You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.
You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…
You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.
“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.
“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.
Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.
You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.
You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.
“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.
Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.
“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.
“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.
“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.
“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.
“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.
“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.
“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.
Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.
Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.
You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.
Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.
You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.
Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.
“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.
“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 
“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.
“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.
“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.
“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.
“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.
You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.
“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.
“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.
“Huh. Figures.”
-
Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.
And yet.
When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.
As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.
You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.
“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.
“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.
You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.
You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.
In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.
-
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.
Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.
Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.
You blink at each other.
“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.
“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.
“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”
Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.
Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.
Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.
“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.
“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.
“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.
Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.
“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”
“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.
And besides, you weren’t blind.
Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.
He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.
Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.
You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.
Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.
He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.
You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.
“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.
“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”
“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.
“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.
“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.
“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.
“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.
“Jake.” he corrects you.
You pause.
Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.
“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.
“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.
“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.
“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”
“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.
“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.
“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.
For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.
You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.
“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.
“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.
“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.
“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.
You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.
And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.
“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.
“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.
“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”
“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.
You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.
Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.
You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.
“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.
“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.
-
“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.
Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.
“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.
“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.
“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.
“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.
“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.
“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.
“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.
You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.
“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.
“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.
You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.
“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”
“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.
“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.
Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.
“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.
“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.
“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.
It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.
You turn away from him, shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”
Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.
“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.
“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”
By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.
When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.
Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.
“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.
Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.
“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”
-
You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.
“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.
“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.
Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.
“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”
“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.
You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.
“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.
“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.
“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.
She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.
You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.
“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.
“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”
Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.
You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.
It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.
“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.
“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.
“Huh?”
Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.
“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”
You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.
She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.
You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.
“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”
You quickly cut her off.
“I’m not saying anything to him!”
At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.
“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”
You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.
-
You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.
Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.
“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers
Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.
“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.
You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.
In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.
It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.
“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.
“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.
This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.
You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow
Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.
“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.
You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.
“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.
“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.
Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.
“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.
“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.
“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.
“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.
“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”
The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.
“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.
You let out a little sigh.
“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”
“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”
He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.
After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.
He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.
“What do you want to do, honey?”
You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.
“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.
“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.
“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.
“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.
“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”
You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.
“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”
“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”
“But…?” Jake prompts.
“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.
“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.
“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”
“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.
“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.
“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.
“Yeah…”
“And you just want me to keep you company?”
You nod, and clear your throat.
“Yeah.”
Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.
“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.
Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.
“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.
“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.
You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.
His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.
You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.
“Can I?”
You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.
“Make yourself comfortable!”
You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.
Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.
“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.
“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.
“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.
It rings less than once before it connects.
“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.
“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”
You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.
Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.
The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.
“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.
“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.
“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.
Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.
“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.
“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.
“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.
“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”
At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.
When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.
He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.
The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.
Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.
“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.
“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.
Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.
“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.
“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.
“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.
“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.
Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.
“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Let’s get you home baby.”
You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.
His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.
“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.
“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”
You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.
He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.
One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.
One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.
Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.
“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.
“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.
“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.
“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.
After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.
“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.
“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.
“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.
The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.
“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.
Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.
“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.
You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.
“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.
Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”
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turtletaubwrites · 3 months
Text
A Good Catch ~ Part 1
✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨
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I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!
Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4367
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)
Ao3 Link
Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.
Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅
A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”
The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you. 
Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket. 
You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way. 
Not that it matters. They’re pirates. 
It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by. 
A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky. 
“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you. 
“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands. 
“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”
His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming. 
He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…
“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”
“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”
His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you. 
“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”
It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.
Fuck.
“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms. 
“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”
“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”
“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy. 
You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.
You barely heard his shouts  as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you. 
“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”
“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”
You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited. 
~
“Welcome aboard!”
Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt. 
Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye… 
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 
“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”
“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile. 
His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…
His eyes were way too close to you. 
“Are you alright?”
Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water. 
Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes. 
The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you. 
“Is there anything else you need, miss…”
Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.
“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”
His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you. 
“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”
He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction. 
You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.
“How long until we’re at the village?”
The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out. 
“It should be about three days from now.”
“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.
“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.
He just smirked, tilting his head.
“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”
For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.
“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”
His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net. 
“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”
Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.
“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”
The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.
“Why’s that one special?”
The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain. 
“It was a good catch.”
He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that. 
Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass. 
“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”
Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.
“What’s your name?”
“You don’t need to know it.”
He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.
“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”
You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.
But it was too late.
Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.
The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide. 
“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.
“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”
A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves. 
Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like. 
“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”
He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question. 
“Y/N.”
He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.
“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”
You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck. 
Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.
But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in. 
How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine? 
Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him. 
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you.”
Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.
He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first. 
The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.
“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.
“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”
Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.
Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it. 
“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”
“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”
“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”
Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.
“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”
“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”
“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.
He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”
A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him. 
But you were exhausted. 
“You’ll sit in front of the door?”
He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.
“I will.”
“Will you wear a blindfold?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.
“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”
Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.
But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm. 
Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out. 
“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”
~
This is really nice soap.
Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin. 
But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door. 
“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”
That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin. 
The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”
How did he hear that over the shower?
~
“What the hell is this?”
“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”
You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off. 
The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.
“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.
The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.
“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.
His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.
“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”
“Fuck you.”
His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.
“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”
Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.
“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”
Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little. 
You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.
“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”
You kicked the pirate for being such a dick. 
“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it. 
“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”
Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew. 
“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.
Of course. We’re getting his clothes. 
It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air. 
The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.
“Here, love, how about these?”
“Do you have a belt?”
~
Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.
Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does. 
“You almost finished? The party’s star…”
Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.
“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”
He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment. 
Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.
“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”
“I…”
“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”
He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway. 
Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions. 
Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it. 
Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him. 
“Just let me know if that ever changes.”
He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit. 
“You comin’? I’m hungry.”
Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.
He really is some sort of seduction demon.
~
“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”
“This is how you talk about your captain?”
The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.
“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.
“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”
He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire. 
“Come on, the food’s almost done.”
The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol. 
Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.
What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?
The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over. 
“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”
The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork. 
It smelled good.
“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”
The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.
“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”
Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.
He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips. 
It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.
It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.
Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.
“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”
Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.
“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.
Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips. 
“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”
“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.
“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin. 
“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low. 
“I could do without the latter.”
“You wound me, sweet damsel.”
He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.
“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.
Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.
“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”
“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”
He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.
“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”
Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like. 
“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.
“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”
Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough. 
“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”
Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing. 
“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.
“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”
Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand. 
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice. 
When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand. 
“The ocean makes me feel better too.”
His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you. 
Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.
Ignoring him did not make him go away. 
“What do you want?”
“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”
“Take me home.”
“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”
Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.
His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.
“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”
Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. 
“Of course, let me take you now.”
The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island. 
Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters. 
“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”
He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.
“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”
This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours. 
“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”
The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek. 
“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 2
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
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saberlight1 · 5 months
Text
oaths & songbirds — coriolanus snow
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pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of violence and ptsd, trauma, slight toxic and possessive snow, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.
authors note: hiii!! i’m glad you all enjoyed part 1 to this story, it is linked here, and part 3 is here. i loved the ballad and coriolanus & lucy gray’s chemistry and relationship was so beautifully displayed, i had to write about it. also, the song Y/N sings is linked here, the girl singing is how i imagine her to sound. anyways, i hope you enjoy!
masterlist
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The bright blue sky had faded into orange and pink, you and the Covey all now scattered around the land. Maude and Lucy Gray sat on the dock, feet in the water as they sang random melodies they came up with, Issac sitting behind them drumming along with a beat.
That left you and Coryo, who were laid together on a blanket under a tree, in each other’s arms. You laid in his lap, his arms wrapped around you, a warm feeling in the both of you chest’s. You softly sang a song to him— one you had recently came up with.
In the time of the harvest, the leaves fallin’ down.
I held what my true love could reap from the ground.
But the bounty of a garden can all rot away,
Without love and protection and a hard will to stay.
I’ll never have a garden again.
Where I fall to my knees and work with the land.
Now I’m just prayin’ with two dirty hands.
I’ll never, no, never have a garden again.
You finished the song with a breath, your hands going to nervously fidget.
“Your singing is beautiful.” Coryo whispered. “Did you write that?”
“Yeah, I did.” You softly smiled. “It’s not done, but I came up with it the other night.” You looked up, hearing the mockingjay’s repeat the melody you had sang.
Coryo followed your gaze. “I’ve never seen those type of birds before.”
“Mockingjays, as we call ‘em, or as Lucy Gray does.” You explained, smiling at the thought of your beloved cousin.
“Well, I like it so far. Your songs are always beautiful.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss your nose.
You giggled, your hand going up to grab him to connect your lips. You exchanged a passionate kiss, the boy always kissing you like you were his air. He slowly broke apart, leaving small pecks on your lips before he pulled you closer.
“I wish it could be like this all the time,” You sighed.
“Me too, baby.” He brushed some hair out of your eyes, studying you for a moment. “It could be… if you came to the Capitol—”
“No, Coryo.” You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “I mean out here. In nature, away from it all. I don’t want to go back to the Capitol ever again. I don’t belong there.”
He deflated, shaking his head. “Y/N, you know I have to go back eventually..”
A breath of air left your lips, his words leaving you frowning. “I know,” your eyes casted downwards, away from his.
He bent down slightly, leaving a kiss on your lips. “I’m not gone yet, my songbird. I’m still here,”
His actions brought a small smile to your face, as your hands came up to grip his lovingly. “I.. I’m sorry I make things difficult. I’m torn, Coryo. I don’t want to be without you, but I refuse to live that life in the Capitol.”
“You don’t make things difficult, my love. I understand. You were brought up out here, it‘s your home.” He muttered, staring into your eyes with a loving gaze. “I will figure it out— We will. Don’t worry, baby.” He left another kiss on your lips, this one longer and washing all of your worries away. When you pulled back for air, the boy turned to dig in his bag, turning back to you with an orange shawl in his hand.
“What’s this?” You asked, sitting up and turning to him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, passing it to you. “It was my mother’s, and I’d like for you to have it.”
“Oh, Coryo,” You smiled, clutching it. “Thank you, really.” You brought up to your nose, inhaling deeply. “Mm, still smells like roses.”
He smiled down at you with adoration.
“I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Thank you, sweetheart.” You said, your accent showing. “You must miss your family so much out here.”
“I do.” He answered. “I worry about them all the time.”
“…Would you really go back, though?” You met his eye again. “If you could,”
“I have to, it’s where I belong. Like how you belong out here.”
You nodded, breaking your eye contact. “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.” Your gaze turned back to the water in front of you.
“Hey..” He scooted closer to you.
You shook your head. “What if this was our life, Coriolanus?” You asked, and his attention was immediately on you with the use of his actual name. “Out here, waking up whenever. Catching our own food, living out by the lake— I mean, would you still feel the need for the Capitol even then?” You further went on, urging him to listen to you.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Lucy Gray called with a giggle, causing the pair of you to break apart. “C’mere! CeCe and Issac caught dinner!” She waved, as Issac held up some fish they had caught.
You sighed, shaking your head once again at Coryo before you stood up to join them, Coriolanus on your tail.
As the night went on, the previous worries were now in the back of your mind as you sang a song with Lucy Gray, a smile on your face.
However, as Coriolanus watched you, the same worries were front and present in his mind. In fact, he couldn’t think of anything else. He knew somehow, someway he had to convince you to come with him. He couldn’t leave you behind, not again.
He didn’t know if you’d still be here when he got back.
‘What if this was our life, Coriolanus? Would you still feel the need for the Capitol, even then?’ Your past words ringing in his ears as his smile dropped. If he didn’t lure you in soon, you’d fly away with the mockingjays into the wind, never to be his again.
He couldn’t have that.
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takavasen · 1 month
Text
Tumblr dashboard in Night Vale simulator
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🧪homo-genius
Today's science fact:
Spiders have an open blood circulation system, which means they do not have veins and their blood is different from the blood of mammals. Unfortunately many healthcare professionals do not know this, which can lead to improper methods in...
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🎙️voice_of_night_vale
Spiders are a valuable part of our community and deserve good healthcare.
But more importantly, I want everyone to know that Carlos the Scientist made this post, he is my husband and I love him very much! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
🪬a-thousand-fingernails Follow
Cecil everyone knows you and Carlos are married and most of us are happy for you but you don't need to tell this in every post you make
🎙️voice_of_night_vale
Wait have I mentioned it before?
809 notes
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⭐sheriffofallarts
Hah saw some loser (@ marble-eyes) bring the same girl (@ mountainbeliever343 I think, couldn't see her face clearly from the cameras) home for the third time this week lol
cmon just say you are girlfriends already dont be shy
💎marble-eyes Follow
Hey you can't just share private information like that!! And besides that is not true, I haven't brought anyone home for a long time, I don't have time for that anymore!!!
🟡secretly-in-your-home
No. I can confirm that what Sam said is true. I was there. I am always there. Also, I put the rest of your cereal to your washing machine. They have been in the cupboard for a while now, I thought they were getting quite dusty and needed cleaning.
31 notes
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🏀basketballpalmer Follow
We had an another great season with @nvwheelchairbasketball team again! Thank you everyone, it's an honor to be the captain of the team! See you guys next season <3
👍wallabyyy Follow
Aaaaa congratulations! I miss you guyssss
43 notes
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☀️prophet-of-smiling-god
I just had the most delightful date with the most gorgeous theologist in Desert Bluffs Too!!! We had a lovely dinner at my house (some eyeball salad, mushed tarantulas and fried human fingers), watched some movies and of course made sure to serve our great Smiling God by making each other as happy as possible!! Unfortunately Charles said that it would make him unhappy if I shared the details, but I can confidently say that I have never been more joyful!!
🦷smiling-mayor Follow
Kevin, you missed a service in the Temple of Joy because of this. Surely you would remember doing that for an old friend, wouldn't you? 😊
☀️prophet-of-smiling-god
Oh, Lauren, of course I wouldn't ignore anything like that on purpose, you know how much I love tolerating you!!
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🪽not-an-angel Follow
Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?
You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link
🌟erikaaaaaaa Follow
Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?
You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link
💵ex-vanston Follow
Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?
You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link
💡erika-the-black-one Follow
Does anyone happen to have 10 bucks?
You can send them here: absolutely-not-a-scam-link
3 notes
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😎violentfootstool-deactivated20230416
Hey guys, so I just spoke to the new scientist lady and found out I don't actually have three pairs of arms. The lower two were just robot limbs that I tried out when I was seven years old and forgot to take them off. So hows your day ://
🔬janet-lubelle
I am always happy to help with explaining your problems away.
🎀tinfoilforteeth
Hey bitch how is it going under the cow
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🎙️voice-of-night-vale
Alright, I'm going to say it. Steve Carlsberg does NOT know how to be a basketball coach. He knows nothing about any game structures, and he only allows one ball per game!! He talks too loud, except when you can't hear him. It will be ALL HIS FAULT if we end up losing this season!!!!!
🌠lines-in-the-sky Follow
:(
🎙️voice-of-night-vale
For everyone who finds this post now: I made this many years ago. Things have changed a lot. I'm very sorry, Steve. I couldn't hope for a better brother-in-law. You are my best friend, and I was the irrational one in this situation.
I have changed the way I look at people. I will not treat them the same way I used to treat Steve anymore.
1,642 notes
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🎙️voice-of-night-vale
Alright, who let Susan Willman be in charge of anything? She is the absolute worst at making desicions, like, who asks an obelisk its NAME? She had an oppoturnity to ask almost anything, and that's what she chose?? She better stay away from our way for at least seven decades, and keep her "Huntokar"-nonsense with herself!!!
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254 notes · View notes