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gffa · 4 months

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I have been drifting back to STAR WARS fandom lately and I have been greatly rewarded for it, especially in the gen fic veins, because there have been some banger fics authors have been putting out! And the thing that really gets me in the fannish heart is that there's more and more fics about the Jedi, both for exploring the characters and the culture. I have been able to find multiple fics that have been kind to Mace Windu! I have been able to find multiple fics that explain what attachment actually is to the Jedi and to Star Wars! I have been able to find multiple fics that lift my spirit up or punch me in the feelings in exactly the right way, both for the usual disaster lineage faves, but also for the Jedi as a whole. I'm serious, that means the world to me in this fandom, and I desperately want to share that with you all. LET ME SHOVE FIC AT YOU THAT LOVES THESE CHARACTERS AND THIS WORLD AS MUCH AS I DO!!

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ wayfinding by night by wrennette, obi-wan & luke & cast, time travel, 10.2k Before him stood a fellow Jedi, worn and weary with loss. Obi-Wan finds himself on Ahch-To and helps Luke find a path through his grief. ✦ may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories, leia & bail & anakin & cast, 2.5k When your father dies, say the Coruscanti, you are left clutching a star map for a different galaxy. In this, as in many things, Leia is her fathers' daughter. ✦ No Freedom From the Storm (But Peace In Its Midst) by Be_Right_Back, mace & cast, ~1k Mace is freefalling. On his way down, he meets Hatred, and reaches for Serenity. ✦ "...if you remain his student" by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & ahsoka & cast, 3.9k Ahsoka doesn't leave the Jedi Order. This does not save Anakin. This was never going to save Anakin. Nor stop him. ✦ a distant fire is burning by e_va, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cal, time travel, 47.4k wip Cal Kestis can move backwards in time (kinda-sorta-not really), and his confrontation with Darth Vader in the Fortress Inquisitorius plays out a lot differently. Fixing the timeline while stuck in his 10-year-old body will be quite the task, but Cal is up to it. He has to be. (Obi-Wan, Anakin, and the clone troopers have no idea what to make of Kenobi's weird new padawan. At least the kid fits in, though.) ✦ No Death, Only the Force by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & depa & shmi, 2.8k Anakin Skywalker is just about to to free his mother from the Tuskens when the Force rudely yanks him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant – and into Mace Windu's body. Mace, on the other hand, gets tossed into Anakin's body on Tatooine. ✦ Well Met by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme (unconsumated) & corde & anakin, 19k "Here and then gone again," Padmé said. "It must be lonely." "Sometimes," Obi-Wan said. "But a Jedi is never truly alone."

THIS FANDOM HAS A HAMMER AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF NAILS AND A REALLY GOOD STAPLE GUN, WE'RE FIXING WHAT CANON BROKE AND NOBODY CAN STOP US NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ Begin again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 78.9k Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. ✦ Repetition by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & obi-wan, time loop, 3k Cody wakes up from a nightmare on the way to Utapau, again and again.

CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE: ✦ it's like i can feel time moving by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 5.4k “Hi,” Anakin says. It's after midnight. “Is everything alright?” “Can’t a man stop by his old master’s room?” Obi-Wan stares at him blankly. “Are you out of food?” ✦ yes, I will take you / I will love you, again by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 2.5k "So you have tried, Padawan." Qui-Gon takes a moment, and his expression is steely but not unkind--the one Obi-Wan remembers from particularly grueling training sessions. "Would you try again, if you had the chance?" OWK!Obi-Wan gets another chance, with a child he once left behind. ✦ No Good Deed Goes Unpunished by kittona, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.1k Anakin gets a bit overprotective when his loved ones are sick. Luckily, he has the best home remedy for a cold. ✦ nothing a cup of tea can't fix by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.5k when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former padawan and grand padawan are. or Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit. ✦ Stick Figures by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 2k war is hard. war is draining. to make it more bearable, little mementos* are routinely given. *mementos: encouraging notes, funny little drawings, little gifts, fun snacks, and poems which might get Anakin in trouble. ✦ When the Ground Breaks by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.7k An earthquake causes devastation on the planet of Berchest. Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka work together to help save civilians until disaster pulls them apart. ✦ never fear, young one by marverse, obi-wan & ahsoka & cast, 6.2k Ever since her first day of being a padawan, Ahsoka Tano remembers the words that Master Skywalker had once told her. And every time, she wonders, wonders, and wonders. ✦ the street's a little kinder when you're home by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin, 5.2k "So catch me up," Anakin says. "What did I miss?” Nothing. Nothing happens when you’re gone. “Oh, the usual.” [or: anakin goes missing. obi-wan doesn't handle it well.] ✦ holding anchor by foreverstudent, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 3.2k At the landing of Point Rain, an injured Obi-Wan allows himself to be sentimental over his former padawan, and Anakin patches up his old master. ✦ Nothing to Say by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & satine, 3.2k (or: Anakin and Satine don’t know how to talk to each other. Until they remember the very important thing they have in common.) ✦ Aggressive Negotiations by SkyBlue1309, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 2.2k People forget that Anakin was raised by the Negotiator. He was bound to pick up on a thing or two. ✦ At The Window by Peppermint_Shamrock, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k In the early days of Anakin's apprenticeship, Obi-Wan searches for him in the Temple. ✦ The Words by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin, 3.9k Obi-Wan Kenobi has never said I love you in his life. He can say a lot of other things, though.

JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION: ✦ Refractions of Light by Independence1776, ezra & kanan, 1.3k Kanan celebrates a Jedi holiday with Ezra. ✦ The grand outing by Ingata, dooku & sifo-dyas & obi-wan & bant & garen & reeft & yoda & cast, 4.5k Eight younglings and two Jedi masters on a field trip. What could possibly go wrong? ✦ into the statue that breathes by spoonks, obi-wan & feemor & cast, 8.5k The night watch in the garden was supposed to be the calmest of them all. No mischievous Padawans “sneaking” in or out, or ne’er-do-well civilians conducting “business” around the lower-level entrances that they didn’t know existed. No the gardens was still, and it was like time was frozen in ice that slowly melted away with the rising of the sun. A slow drip, drip— Drip. Immediately Feemor turned towards the central waterfall. Someone was standing there. Whoever they were, they were small and moved through katas with their hands open like a greeting. ✦ The Temple vs. Order 66 by LauraBWrites, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cody & jedi & jedi temple, 3.9k The Temple cannot defy the Will of the Force. But it can, it will prepare for the possible outcomes. It can damn well fight back. ✦ We Three Runaways. by Aethir, obi-wan & depa & komari, 2.7k In which Depa and Obi-Wan bond, and a new sister is found. ✦ A Short Break by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & yoda, ~1k Luke complains about his training, and asks about Jedi training of old. ✦ we are made of our longest days by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 4.4k Two years after the events of The Phantom Menace, Obi-Wan and his new apprentice are called to a remote moon to fetch a baby who’s showing signs of a rare, unique power. On their journey home, Obi-Wan reflects on the last child he brought to the Temple and catches a faint glimpse of three possibly entwining futures.

I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I'M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM: ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin & mace, 1.5k wip Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ Saving People Counts as Revenge, Right? by ImperialKatwala, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, time travel, 4.3k wip Count Dooku of Serenno is an intelligent man. His methods may be a bit severe, and he may not be allowed true freedom to plan campaigns in the war he helped create, but he has always had an eye for strategy. Moving the pieces around the board and plotting out where they will need to be next. So, when he opens his eyes after Anakin Skywalker cut his head off, he knows to take a moment to assess what’s going on. ✦ if I could find solid ground again by maragny, anakin & depa, 1.5k “You never told me what we’re doing today,” Anakin says, a little hesitant. “I…I don’t know much about Jedi things yet.” "Good thing we’re not doing Jedi things, then,” Depa replies. “We’re cooking!” Or, Anakin and Depa, finding their places in their family. ✦ Birds Fly in Different Directions by Triscribe, jedi & clones, time travel, 14.6k In the corridor beyond her quarters, other Jedi were emerging from their own doors, most of them wide-eyed with shock. A few merely looked blearily concerned, and Aayla heard snatches of questions as she darted past, queries as to whether everyone experienced the same distressing vision. But those who clutched at their chests or throats, their weak points- those Jedi bore a muted horror in their eyes, and Aayla didn’t doubt they’d just suffered their own betrayals from trusted men.

✦ The Master, The Padawan, and The Force by Pandora151, padme & ahsoka, 1.9k Padmé Naberrie was never one to procrastinate. More than that, she maintained a steady, consistent schedule — something that she’d managed to keep ever since she was a Padawan. She was always on top of everything, from her responsibilities with the war to training her own Padawan, Ahsoka. She was well-known throughout the Order for being steady, reliable. And most notably, no matter what, she didn’t just forget things. Which made her current situation all the more…ridiculous. ✦ Off-by-one Error by Jessepinwheel, obi-wan & cast, 12.2k A stranger appears in the Jedi Temple. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from. Nobody knows what has happened to him except that it must have been something truly terrible. The stranger's name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. ✦ splinters of light by wrennette, dooku & jocasta & sifo-dyas & yoda & jaster & jango & cast, time travel, 22.5k When Dooku's dying consciousness was sent back into his younger body, at first he remembered only that something important would happen on Korda VI, and soon. His investigations brought both clarity and confusion, and a conviction that he must atone for evils not yet enacted. ✦ The Road that Reaches by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & yoda & depa & shmi, 11.5k As the Council sits down on Naboo to consider the newly-knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi's request to take young Anakin Skywalker as his padawan, they're informed of what transpired on Tatooine – and that Anakin used to be a slave. Mace Windu goes to interview the young child to confirm this, and gets rather more than he signed up for. ✦ the salle at dawn by maragny, anakin &/ mace, 5.1k Master Windu is the best duellist in the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker is seventeen, he duels Mace for the first time, and it ruins both of them for anyone else. ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, kanan/cal & quinlan, 5.3k A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Resilience by TemporaryUniverse, obi-wan & mace, 3.3k Twelve years after his defeat at the Battle of Naboo, Obi-Wan's greatest enemy has returned from the dead. Obi-Wan has faced Maul and lost. Now it is time to face himself. ✦ The Buried Truth is Your Favorite Lie by Peppermint_Shamrock, dooku & yoda, ~1k Dooku tries and fails to leave the past behind. ✦ Hanging On by the Last Threads of Our Hope by IllyanaA, ahsoka & rex, 5.2k Ahsoka and Rex have endured too much. After the Fall, they stay together until they can't, but the Force has a way of bringing them back together. It's a fact for which both of them are immeasurably grateful.

MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS: ✦ Future Tense by CeruleanTactician, obi-wan & anakin & luke, time travel, 1.4k Obi-Wan and Anakin find themselves twenty years in the future, where they meet a young man by the name of Luke Skywalker. ✦ Keepsakes by Coalmine301, obi-wan & leia, 2k “You were the one who gave me my bantha, weren’t you?” “Yes,” Obi-wan nodded with a small smile. “Your father told me they were your favorite animal. At least then it was.” ✦ Why the Sith Don't Have Class Reunions by Peppermint_Shamrock, anakin & palpatine & maul & dooku & ventress, time travel, 1.9k Sith apprentices rarely agree with one another (there’s a reason for the Rule of Two, after all), but Darth Sidious is starting to think that it’s worse when they do. ✦ My Dear Padawan by Tulak_Hord, luke & yoda & palpatine, time travel, 3.2k In which a time-travelling Luke Skywalker successfully saves the Galaxy in perhaps the most horrifying manner imaginable. ✦ The Return by Pandora151, obi-wan & leia & haja, 1.4k Haja wonders about the others. He wonders about the people he’s sent to the Path from Daiyu — not just Kenobi and the Princess, but that Force-sensitive boy and his mother, the Nautolan teenager from a few weeks ago, the young Kel Dor child and his even younger siblings. Did they all make it home? Are they safe? Was all of this worth it? ✦ Message From Guiding Light by Batsutousai, obi-wan & leia & mace, time travel, 2.2k Ben and Leia never make it to Mapuzo on the borrowed supply shuttle, instead finding themselves in the middle of the Clone Wars.

FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW: ✦ Not A Moment Too Soon by Triscribe, depa & kanan & cast, 2k The first time she stumbled, her padawan said nothing, simply offering his shoulder for her to lean on. ✦ Parallel Lines by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin, time travel, time loop, 10.7k Darth Vader leans back in his chair, allowing a small smile to form on his lips, hidden by his helmet. “There is no escape from this, Obi-Wan,” he utters. He looks down at the neat line of text, and the Force echoes his words. “No escape from the past.” ✦ through the dark (like two flames) by treescape, ca/kanan & quinlan, 5.3k A Jedi found him on Bracca. Or, in the weeks after Order 66, Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume are reunited on Jabiim. Five years late, on the run from Inquisitors, they have a decision to make. ✦ Loth-Cats and Loth-Rats by TessaDoesThings, mace & depa & kanan & ezra, 19k All Mace Windu wanted out of the Post-Clone Wars world was a simple trip with his lineage to the long-forgotten Jedi Temples of the Outer Rim. However, on Lothal, the three might have bitten off more than they expected. The Republic may have triumphed, but the roots of what could have become the empire are gripped in the corners of the galaxy, and it might be time for some aggressive space weeding. Or a coup d'etat. That would work too. ✦ a princess, a farmer, a teacher by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & luke & leia & bail, 1.4k Early in the morning, a girl and few men knock on a door. They don't wear anything resembling a soldier, but Obi-Wan has been a soldier long enough to notice the tense shoulders and wary looks beneath civilian clothing. She doesn't wear anything resembling a princess, but Obi-Wan knows these fierce eyes and grace coming from a righteous cause. or A New Hope AU where Vader doesn't attack Leia's ship and Leia herself delivers the news to Obi-Wan and consequently Obi-Wan doesn't die. ✦ What I Wouldn't Give To See Your Ghost by Triscribe , depa & kanan & cast, time travel, 1.2k “Who are you?” Depa demanded, externally calm but internally frantic. “What is this place? And where is my padawan?” ✦ when that day comes by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & maul, modern au/reincarnation au, 44.8k [or: the alternate universe where anakin skywalker has the chance at some new life…but only if he saves the life of a reincarnated obi-wan kenobi. the catch: neither of them know who the other was in the galaxy far, far away…but that might very well change.]

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #depa billaba #count dooku #luke skywalker #leia organa #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post

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writeroutoftime · 2 months

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pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground.

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body.

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard.

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out.

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred.

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him.

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #actoar cassian x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

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yukipri · 5 months

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Clone File: Morbs (YukiPri OC)

Basic info:

Name: Morbs Number Designation: CC-4413 Generation: 1 (0.9) Rank/Title: Chief Mortician of the GAR, Kamino Chief Mortuary Trainer (former) GAR Affiliation: Entire GAR, primarily stationed with the 212th Attack Battalion Character status: YukiPri Original Character

Disclaimer: Morbs' story will likely make more sense if you've read The Prime Override, as he's introduced with context in this fic. He will also make more sense if you've read about the other 2 clone medics mentioned in this file, Ashe and Stabber.

Backstory beneath cut!

Overview:

Clone morticians are specialists even among medics. Every clone medic knows the basics of how to care for the deceased, but in war, priority must always go to the living. As such, it is common to find only one clone mortician per star destroyer or permanent GAR base, with greater numbers stationed in Tipoca City or various Republic medical centers.

Morbs, or CC-4413, is considered the Chief of this group of medical specialists. He is the originator of the division, and was assigned to develop both the position and the training curriculum of clone morticians in tandem with Ashe’s primary medical training.

Prior to the start of the Clone Wars and through the early war period, Morbs oversaw the Tipoca City Primary Clone Morgue, which processed all clone bodies. There, he managed biopsies, distribution of cadavers, and the care and processing of all of the bodies of his deceased brothers. He also trained other clone morticians who had completed general medical training prerequisites and were approved by Ashe, as well as future Chief Medical Officers who were required to have completed hands-on training time in the morgue to earn their certifications.

Morbs would have been content to remain in this morgue for life, but as the main body of the GAR prepared for deployment, it became clear that the number of bodies being processed on Kamino would plummet. Morbs was reassigned to the front lines, where his expertise would see more active use, leaving his morgue behind in the hands of his assistants. He primarily travels with the 212th Attack Battalion, but frequently visits medical centers and goes where he is needed.

Background:

Morbs was one of five Generation 0.9 CCs selected by Nala Se to begin the development of the clone medical track. While all subsequent medics are CTs, the Generation 0.9 CCs underwent manual age acceleration, putting them physically ahead of their Generation 1 peers in chronological age. Morbs and his fellow CCs were test subjects used to establish the start of the medical specialization path before their younger brothers were of age to begin that training.

As CCs, they are overqualified for the general medical training that Nala Se is building, and Nala Se quickly turns to using them for other experiments as well. Their unique position as the first experimental medical clones gives Nala Se more oversight over them than any other clones, with far less supervision as well. They are “her” clones to test as she pleases.

In the depths of her labs, Nala Se conducts experiments that she had been banned from conducting on standard troopers by the contract with the Prime Clone, Jango Fett. Morbs later learns that these tests would be considered “torture,” and are illegal in the Republic. He and his brothers are tested for the physical limits that clones can reach, including tolerance for exposure to various stimulants such as heat or chemicals, as well as sensory limits such as their maximum threshold for pain. She also experiments with the potential for building up tolerance and even immunity to various drugs and poisons. She takes all of the data she gains and incorporates them into the medical training for the clones—thus, ensuring that her tests still fall under the scope of “developing medical training.”

Two of the five CCs perish as a result of these experiments. Ashe is ordered to decommission the third when he fails to meet Nala Se’s standards. This leaves Morbs and Ashe as the only survivors of their initial group. They cannot speak of their experiences to anyone else, as Nala Se is the only other witness. Not even Kote knows what they experienced. Between the two of them though, they can never forget that their senior medical positions were earned with blood.

Morbs has always been a quiet but keen observer, and knew from early on that Ashe has reasons for wanting to be in the medical track, and that this is a path that he’s chosen and is motivated to push through. Morbs is brought into the Ghosts’ plans relatively early, and having had the most first-hand experience seeing just what Ashe’s position entails, he wishes he could do more to help his brother. However, Morbs is also realistic, and knows that he doesn’t have the same passion and dedication driving him. He does what he can, but he can’t see himself being the medics’ leader that Ashe is. He feels guilty for not being able to offer to take Ashe’s place, when he’s the only one in a position who could. He tries to make up for it by loyally following him, and doing what he can as a supporter.

In addition to not having the drive, Morbs also feels he is cursed with misfortune. While he excels as a medic and not even Nala Se can find anything lacking in his record, most of the patients that Morbs touches seem to end up dead for reasons unrelated to his skills as a medic.

He’s assigned to oversee a group of cadets, who end up having a fatal genetic mutation that gives them all heart attacks while he’s on observation. The wing with patients that he oversees collapses due to an architectural problem, and they all die. He’s conducting a surgery, when the power goes out, and he’s unable to save his patient with the tools he has available. He tends to some brothers, who leave his exam room fine, but are killed in a training accident a few hours later. He’s assigned to take over a simple check up, and finds his patient already dead before he enters the room.

Every additional incident makes him increasingly uncomfortable with working with living patients. He knows he has the skills, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because most of his patients end up dead anyway. Statistically, it’s not impossible, but after a certain point it’s certainly improbable, and yet it continues to happen. Clones are rarely superstitious, as they have no cultural basis for it, but Morbs feels that there’s something absurdly wrong with the amount of death that seems to follow him everywhere.

He only feels that he’s safe for his brothers when working with those already dead. He can’t kill them if they’re dead before they’re even assigned to him. When Nala Se announces that a new mortuary sub-track will be added to the primary medical track, Morbs dives for it because he can’t think of a better position for himself. If death follows him, he might as well embrace it.

As he and Ashe are given more access to resources including those from outside of Kamino to help them develop their respective training curriculums, Morbs finds himself increasingly interested in not just the practical aspects of death, but also the more cultural and spiritual elements as well. It’s sparked by his own unluckiness and wondering if others have experienced the same, but is fed by his curiosity when he realizes that most nat-born cultures have different ways of processing death and grief that are deeply engrained in how they handle their dead. Nat-born lives are for the most part extremely foreign and utterly irrelevant to anything clones will likely ever experience, but death is almost universal. Morbs finds this fascinating.

The clones are brusquely told that they “march on,” when they die, as Mandalorians do. But why? Where do they march to, with whom? What is waiting there? If that is the inevitable eventual fate of all of them, regardless of Ashe’s or Kote’s efforts, shouldn’t it perhaps be Morbs’ job as the Chief Mortician to at least consider what happens after?

While Morbs has no answers for the afterlife, he certainly has many thoughts, which he shares with the silent cadavers who he works with. It seems like they can hear him, he thinks, for all that none of his words are spoken out loud.

While sitting in on a Ghosts meeting as they develop code words for their growing underground organization, Morbs mentions off-hand that their brothers who are dead, but aren’t, are, “Marching on to join Kote.”

It’s not his fault that their overseers failed to really explain what “marching on” means, nor really instill any true understanding of “glory” either. So if they choose to define it for themselves, with “marching on” meaning to join their other brothers (who may or may not be dead), and “glory” as fighting for their brothers, something tangible that they actually understand and care for…well. They are, after all, supposed to die for the glory of the Republic anyway. No one will question the language.

While most of Morbs’ brothers are exceedingly practical, and must be, Morbs finds his niche in thinking about the not practical. If having ways of respecting and mourning the dead helps all other sentients, why shouldn’t it help them too? Morbs experiments with how he thinks their dead should be treated, and the bodies in his morgue are, as always, his silent audience.

He grows to consider the dead bodies in the morgue “his men” in “his army.” After all, those who are also marked dead, but are actually just with the Ghosts, are also allowed to “consider serving” despite being equally dead on record. And are not the bodies that he repurposes to hide the missing bodies, the dead whose organs and limbs save the lives of their living brothers, not also serving their brothers? Just because they were unlucky, like Morbs, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still being helpful, aren’t still actively saving their brothers. Because that’s all what any of them want to do: help each other.

Morbs assigns himself their Commander, as he is in charge of them, cares for them, and directs their “campaigns.” The rows of cold lockers that house their bodies are “barracks.” He talks to them, praises their missions, and grieves for them when they finally march on to their second deaths via cremation, only after which they are truly gone.

While none of Morbs’ students go to quite the same level as Morbs himself in humanizing their deceased brothers, he makes sure that all of them leave his morgue with a firm understanding that even when dead, their brothers are still their brothers. Pieces of his ideology and treatment of bodies linger in all of the medics who handle their dead.

Morbs treats the dead as his men because he wants them to be able to live on just a bit longer, but admittedly that’s not all. It’s something that also helps with his guilt over not being able to assist Ashe in his decommissionings. He can’t stop those deaths any more than Ashe can, and he can’t even share in the pain of murdering them. But he can promise them, and can promise Ashe, that once their bodies leave Ashe’s blood-stained hands, that Morbs will welcome them gently to his morgue. That they’ll be treated tenderly, with humanity, and that their existences won’t mean nothing. That if they’re capable of it, Morbs will do whatever he can to ensure that they too can serve Kote before their bodies are gone.

Morbs likes to think it offers Ashe some comfort.

General Info:

Most clones have only ever heard of Morbs, who is extremely elusive. Even after deployment, he rarely leaves the morgue wing attached to medical. Whereas Ashe feels a complicated mixture of self-loathing and knowing that he’s unwelcome in other spaces because all other clones loathe him too, Morbs is simple. He likes being with his men, they’re his favorite group of clones. The living get plenty of attention amongst each other. He just is happier with his own men, and prioritizes giving them his own attention.

He’s eccentric and more than a little creepy, but his reputation means that many of his brothers are very curious about him. He has a strict “no one alive past this line” rule at the entrance of the morgue, with very few exceptions, so not even those who try to catch a glimpse of him while visiting medical have much luck. Spotting him outside the morgue is both like an exciting cryptid sighting, but also potentially a bad luck omen. Morbs is oblivious to the excitement his presence causes, as he’s usually just in a rush to get back to the morgue.

Morbs is so mysterious that only a very limited handful of his brothers knows how truly odd his habits are. He has an assigned bunk, but ignores it and sleeps in a specially padded cold locker so that he can “sleep in the barracks with his men.” He calls it his favorite bunk, and tells the other medics he wants to rest there when he one day inevitably dies. He will sometimes forget to take care of himself, ignoring his own living needs to eat, drink, exercise, hygiene, etc. until a medic, usually Stabber, drags him out of the morgue to handle it. Stabber thinks Morbs is an example of how truly unfair their genetic enhancements are, because Morbs somehow maintains his solid CC-class physique with essentially zero effort on his part.

Unlike Ashe, who wants to be out in the field, Morbs never wants to leave his morgue for anything. Once he has been relocated into the morgue on the Negotiator, he only steps out when absolutely necessary. He doesn’t want to see the sights of the outside galaxy, doesn’t want to see the people or try the foods. He thinks all air outside of the morgue that is not optimized for the preservation of clone bodies is distasteful. He especially hates heat, sunlight, and humidity, insisting that it will “cause us to decay faster.”

The one exception to this is if there is a morgue, funeral, cemetery, or something else death-related going on. He learned about other cultures’ death practices, and he’s admittedly still curious about them too, mostly in the context of whether there’s anything else he can do to improve the experience for his men. If the ship is planetside and there’s supposed to be a famous cemetery, he might be seen quickly slinking outside, face completely veiled to avoid exposure to the elements.

Relationships:

Morbs maintains a close relationship with Ashe, though it’s one he’ll rarely show in front of others, always maintaining a professional distance if they have company. But Ashe is the only living person that Morbs will seek out for company, always while Ashe is alone. Morbs is the only one who knows the extent of what Ashe suffered during his early training, and had experienced much of it with him. He is concerned about Ashe, but doesn’t offer medical help, as he feels Stabber does that enough, and he doesn’t trust himself to think of Ashe as a patient; that never ends well. He will instead offer Ashe silent company.

Morbs claims to despise Stabber, especially since he’s the one responsible for taking him away from his morgue on Tipoca City and forcing him onto a star destroyer. Because Stabber is the CMO of the 212th, prior to Ashe joining them, Morbs is forced to interact with him the most. Morbs doesn’t like Stabber because he considers the other medic, “far too alive.” Stabber’s high energy, movement, and noise levels all grate on Morbs’ preference for stillness and darkness. Still, he reluctantly respects Ashe’s former assistant’s skills as a medic, and will follow his orders.

He also won’t admit it, but Stabber was the one who gave him his name. Stabber had a habit of announcing that Ashe’s work buddy “has the morbs,” a phrase he’d picked up from one of Ashe’s training resources that he claims means “has emo vibes.” Stabber liked the sound of the word so much that he began shouting it every time he encountered Morbs, and it ended up sticking. Morbs pretends he doesn’t care, but secretly thinks it’s fitting.

On the other hand, Morbs has a surprisingly amicable relationship with the Jedi he interacts with most frequently, Obi-Wan. He was very leery of letting Obi-Wan come anywhere near the morgue, not trusting an outsider with his delicate men who are unable to defend themselves. However, Obi-Wan found Morbs’ ruminations and philosophies fascinating, and was easily able to bait him into a conversation by expressing interest. Despite being surrounded by war, Morbs often seems strangely detached from it, preferring to speak less about the realities of war and the gears that move it, and more about why various cultures frame death and the afterlife in certain ways. While the conversations are often melancholy in nature, Obi-Wan appreciates the strange normalcy of it, knowing that Morbs would likely have these same questions regardless of whether there was a war. Morbs likewise is invested in hearing about death traditions from an outside perspective.

While the other clones aboard the Negotiator were at first both morbidly fascinated by Morbs, they were discouraged from actually interacting with him because he says things like, “You should not be in here, unless you are dead. Unless you would like to be dead, in which case I can help you,” or, “Oh, well you don’t look like you’re dying. How unfortunate.” However, they gradually realize that Morbs is not as aloof as he first appears.

He isn’t opposed to speaking, as long as it’s about his men. They realize that while Morbs refuses to let any curious bystanders or unqualified personel enter the morgue for no reason, he’s always eager to learn more about those in his care. Clones who have lost brothers can always count on him wanting to hear about the deceased, and if they’re present in his morgue, Morbs may even allow them to visit. When the first clone brings Morbs some flowers, because he saw that some nat-borns planet-side were laying flowers by the graves of their lost loved ones, Morbs is tickled by the action. Clones are not granted proper graves, and those in Morbs’ morgue are still “on duty.” But Morbs creates a little sterilized shrine in a corner of medical close to the morgue, where he collects these offerings and allows his brothers to visit. If the tablet Morbs laid there is turned a certain way, Morbs knows that one of his brothers wishes to speak to him about someone deceased, and he slinks out of the morgue to listen to them.

Because Morbs is the Chief Mortician, he not only processes the bodies that pass in front of his own hands, but he obsessively goes over the reports sent to him by all other clone morticians and standard clone medics, who are in charge of marking all final fatalities. As such, he has the most comprehensive knowledge of all deceased clones. On the rare occasions that they are able to conduct larger, collective remembrances, if Morbs is available, he will often be called to lead them.

Obi-Wan observes that Morbs is acting almost like a priest or other religious leader, but Morbs scoffs at the idea. He has no intention of leading a religion; he just cares about his men.

And all of the clones will join his army, one day.

Appearance:

Morbs wears a modified version of the clone mortician uniform, a black version of the standard softshell white medic uniform. As the Chief Mortician, Morbs wears a longer knee-length version of the uniform, along with a black kama over it to signify his CC status. He also has a rank bar, and red shoulder pieces to show his personal training from Nala Se, like Ashe and Omega. He technically has armor, but he’s never worn most of it since his fitting, and he doesn’t plan on wearing it either. His men serve without wearing armor, so why should he? If the ship is ever boarded, he intends on going down with his men in the morgue, a plan that no one will allow him to follow through on.

The one piece of armor he does occasionally wear is his helmet, which is a black version of Ashe’s. He must occasionally process bodies that have been exposed to hazardous conditions, and in these cases, he’ll don his helmet for its filtration and advanced sensors. He is so utterly uninterested in his own armor that it was left unpainted, and Ashe decided to paint it black for him, so it can match Morbs’ aesthetic preferences. While Morbs never acknowledged the gesture, he shows his appreciation by not protesting when he’s told to wear it.

After leaving Kamino, he grows his hair long and wears it loosely tied back, because as a non-combatant, he isn’t limited to practical hair styles. The exact length changes constantly as he uses his own hair to create wigs and patches for any of his men who may have had their own hair damaged. He refuses to share his hair with anyone who isn’t dead.

He also gets tattooed, two dark lines dripping down his cheeks from his eyes. He saw nat-borns with the look in some funerary documentaries he watched as a cadet. He doesn’t know that what he saw was nat-borns with running makeup, but he likes the look because it looks like a trail of permanent black tears on his face. He takes it to be a metaphor that he is always thinking of his men.

Morbs also has deep permanent bags under his eyes. This is due to a mix of him constantly forgetting that he needs sleep, along with him not wanting to sleep because he has so many thoughts to ponder.

While he usually just wears his uniform, he has a veil that he throws over his head whenever he has to step outside of the ship or Republic medical facility for any length of time. He also has an ornamental headdress he’s fashioned for special occasions, such as when he has to welcome an exceptionally large number of men to his army, is conducting a field cremation, or is leading a remembrance. The headdress is created from shards of plastoid armor he’s had to pull from his men.

Note:

Morbs’ designation, CC-4413, was chosen because the number 4 means “death” in many Asian cultures, due to how it sounds similar to “death” in many Asian languages, including but not limited to my own Japanese/Chinese cultures. Tetraphobia, or the fear of the number 4, is a thing! The number Thirteen is an unlucky number in other cultures. The number “4413” felt fitting for this character who is so immersed in death and bad luck!

Related links:

Clone File on Ashe

Clone File on Stabber

Read them all on AO3

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

#YukiPri art #Morbs CC-4413 #Ashe CC-2222 #clone trooper #YukiPri OC #clone OC #OC #the clone wars #thePrimeOverride #Artist comment: Here he is months after I posted him on Patreon ^ ^;#I thought it would be hilarious and ironic to post him on Life Day #His story will make a LOT more sense if you've read the Prime Override!#what the Ghosts are and how they work is all explained in there #and yup he also gets a Plague Doctor bucket #He and Ashe are the only ones who do #Ashe is the Doctor of Life (but feared to be death)#and Morbs is the literal Doctor of Death (post-mortem)

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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The Spear and the Sword

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 3,807

This is the final fic for the year, a wonderful prompt given by an anon months ago. Thank you to @since-im-already-here for beta reading and correcting grammar. If there's any issue, know my sister is to blame, folks.

@gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @vespidphoenix happy new year!

Warning: blood, gore, flirtatious dialogue, mutual pining, playfulness in battle, enemies to lovers, warlord reader, fluff, Mihawk x female!reader.

I said I'd get it done before the new year. Happy New Years Eve to my fellow Aussies!

This was too much. This was far too much. This was far too much for lord Dracule Mihawk to fend off alone. His great sword Yoru was spattered with the blood of several foes, each impact meeting his blade creating more lethargy in the broody sword master of the seas. His title of “worlds greatest” was hanging in the balance as more enemies approached him with more fervour than ever before.

“Garp,” Mihawk growled into his den-den-mushi earpiece, “you said there would be a few hundred. This is in the upwards of a couple thousand. What is going on back there?” Static and groans of battle were met within the earpiece in return, huffs of gruff breath and thumps of fists coinciding within the ferocious melody.

“It was all I was aware of, Mihawk,” Garp growled once the battle was silenced in the background of the call, “my marines are barely holding up on this end. The other warlords are occupied, I’ve got none to spare you.” Mihawk almost met with a single shot from a bullet, weaving away with a dance-like twirl to dodge the metallic, circular object. He swiped his lengthy blade within the air and kicked back the individual who shot at him, his torso falling to impale themselves against a fence post as a result of the blow.

The town he was tasked to protect, a marine base home to several prominent family members within the world government; alongside the sick, weak, young, and elderly, were currently engaged in a war-like battle with pillagers and pirates from the four corners of the north, east, south and west blues. This army was accumulated under a foreign flag, their jolly roger unfamiliar to both marines and warlords alike. Mihawk had been fighting at the front line alone, his ship destroyed under the destruction of war: his traveling vintages of fine wines claimed by the seas.

As another made his approach, Mihawk huffed out an exhausted and frustrated breath while continuing to swipe to relinquish the foes and meet them with the sharpened edge of his blade.

“Mihawk,” Garp interrupted his flow of battle with his voice cutting through the air within his snail earpiece, “we might have someone available. You’ve worked with her before, a warlord like you. She’s on her way.”

“Boa?” Mihawk asked while placing his fingertip to the shell of the earpiece, “I thought you said she’s on the other side of the north blue right now.” Garp growled at one of his underlings, directing them in some nonsensical way that Mihawk couldn’t quite register.

“No, not Boa,” Garp replied, panting into the earpiece with exhaustion overcoming himself. More clangs, clashes and thumps were heard within the earpiece, Mihawk turning to continue forcing the pillagers back to the shore of the beach.

“No,” Mihawk uttered firmly into the earpiece, “anyone but her. Give me cadets, give me your least valuable soldiers, give me prisoners. Literally anyone else-.”

“I don’t have anyone else!” Garp roared into the earpiece, prompting Mihawk to flinch away from it while furrowing his brows in anger. Both men managed to calm themselves down, Mihawk taking a moment to silence his rage by taking a few deep breaths.

“Put your former grievances and your ego aside, warlord,” Garp ordered within the earpiece, “she’s what we have, and she’s perfect. World’s greatest weapons-master, in fact.”

“I’m aware of that,” Mihawk murmured through his clenched teeth, his teeth grinding as he bit back his lackluster words, “she’s violent, impulsive, ferocious, messy. She’s feral and she’s the bane of my existence.”

“Have you even spoken to her?” Garp questioned, a small humorless laugh falling through his widened grimace, “she’s exactly what we need, Mihawk. You do this, and I’ll let you off the tether to tend your farms, sharpen your sword – or even sheathe it for an entire year.” Mihawk narrowed his eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath and brandishing his sword out to the side in preparation for another recuperated attack from the approaching armada.

“How soon will she be here?” Mihawk asked, his beard protruding while snarling with his upper lip drawing back.

“She’s already on the other side of the war line,” Garp confirmed with him, a final slam of iron-barred doors echoing within the background of the ship, “I’ll patch her through now.”

You tilted your head down, looking up at the coastline full of ships approaching the marine-base through your lengthy eyelashes. You drew back your playful smirk, allowing the elevation of your heartbeat to begin to work itself to frenzy within your ribcage. You were known far and wide for your battle-ready ferocity; allowing your rage to take over your emotions within the thralls of battle to relinquish many a foe.

Combat mastery began at a young age; bare knuckle boxing in gladiator cage-matches being one of the first types of combat you overtook the championship of in your youth. After boxing and grappling, you moved on to wielding large hammers and battle axes, enjoying the weight within your fists as you crushed skulls and decapitated limbs. After heftier weapons, you opted to train under the mentorship of a superior fighter. They taught you to throw the spear and reclaim it swiftly, giving you pointers to always meet your target with the piercing tip of the bladed end.

You were nothing, coming from nothing. No family to speak of, you traveled the continents, claiming title after title of world's greatest weapon-master with ease. The only one you were yet to best was the current reigning lord of Kuraigana, his title of World’s Greatest Swordsman continuing to badge itself against his bare chest with pride. Arrogant prick was the first thought that sprung to mind regarding the nature of his aura. You had seen posters, articles and even catalogs regarding his training history and weapons mastery.

As your status was elevated to warlord, the world government approached you for protection against several foes and to take on contracts they would rather not involve themselves with, you accepted under two conditions: they allow you to handle matters in your own way, being the first. Your own way, being: “I will get this done, regardless of the mess, and you will clean it up after I’m done with it.”

The other condition is you were to be given absolutely all the information available to you regarding the contracts: no children, no women: no innocents. Those were your rules. You didn’t care how feral the children were, nor how arrogant and uptight the women were. If they were innocent, you refused to do harm to them, or unleash your wrath onto the world government themselves. There were absolutely no qualms to your requests, printed in bold atop your profile.

Vice-Admiral Garp had no quarry with your methods, usually placing a den-den-mushi somewhere about within the battlefield to watch your barbaric tirades on the field in awe at your ferocity.

That was how Mihawk knew of your battle prowess, your pictures almost always covered in some form of dirt, mud and blood within the heat of battle. He absolutely despised mess, but was always held captive to your almost beckoning and sultry gaze as you removed your spearhead from another foe. And you knew him in a similar likeness, his images always clean-cut with not a splash of battle worn on him. Given the call you just received from Garp, you were quivering in anticipation to remedy such a plight from him.

“I’m going to patch you through now, Weaponsmaster,” Garp’s lilted brogue uttered into the den-den-mushi within your ear. His voice almost was quivering itself in anticipation of witnessing the carnage you were about to unleash against the armada as far as the naked eye could see.

“Thank you, Vice-Admiral,” you sang in an almost sultry tone within the earpiece, “I know you’ll be watching closely.”

“Aye, I will be lass,” Garp’s voice laughed into the earpiece. You were very well aware of how fond the older gentleman was of watching you work, not minding in the slightest at the attention and preference you got from him.

“Mihawk, you there?” Garp’s voice echoed within the earpiece, prompting you to wince away from his growl slightly.

“I am, Vice-Admiral.” A moment of pause occurred before Mihawk spoke again, “Weapons-master.”

“Sword-master,” you smirked, your voice almost purring at him, “a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“That I’m sure of,” Mihawk replied in a bored tone. You were slightly taken aback by his standoffish mannerism, your brows furrowing low. He absolutely knew who you were, holding a title as warlord and world’s greatest weapons-master. You rotated your shoulders and clicked your neck to rid yourself of annoyance and prepare yourself for battle.

“Conceited Cunt,” you spat, unaware that the contact was still drawn between the three of you – only becoming aware once Mihawk’s voice relayed back to you, “Feral Filiform.”

“Easy now,” Garp’s voice called over the linked den-den-mushi, “Complete this feat first, then get to your flirting.”

“If you think that’s what flirting looks like,” Mihawk winced into the shell, touching his index finger to the outer shell of the den-den-mushi, “I pity your wife.” You chuckled at his crude comment, almost tangibly feeling the rage pouring off Garp in waves through the den-den-mushi attached to your inner ear.

“Save your insults for the enemy, pirate,” Garp spat into the earpiece. You heard Mihawk hum, prompting you to roll your eyes at the interaction. The ships over the shore began to fall closer to your small vessel - the rise of the tide ushering you into the new thralls of battle. You noticed there were a few hundred ships, all carrying an amassment of crew of various sizes. You once again rolled your shoulders back and pursed your lips.

Placing your fingertip to secure the shell deeper within your ear, you smirked out a final taunt to the warlord.

“This is what was bothering you? Couldn't you handle the troop all by yourself, swordsman?” You cooed into the voice responder. Silence and static was met within the drum of your ear, a stifled growl also accompanying it. You decided to get in a final jab to taunt him, “I could dispatch the armada by myself. Why don’t you take a break, old man? Sit your pretty little ass down on the beach and sit back to watch the show.”

“I’d like to see you try, barbarian,” Mihawk growled in return. Your ship brushed against the hull of the first ship to the rear of the fleet; your presence immediately making itself known as you housed yourself effortlessly over the railing. You laughed into the earpiece, feeling the rapidity of your heartbeat rising in elevation to frenzy yourself before first contact is made with your many foes.

Your spear was flung through your hands to indent itself against the top mast at the middle of the vessel, skewering several members of the mighty crew onto its pole as meat would dangle from a kebab. You grappled, kicked, flung yourself at the crew; using your hands and their own weapons against them to relinquish them from their life. Once they all fell victim to your battle mastery, you again reached your hand up to the shell-responder.

“I bet my left breastplate I will get to the middle before you, Swordsman,” you taunted him, your legs carrying themselves with haste towards the railing of the ship. You jumped high, the air lifting you and drawing your body down against the next vessel.

“I bet my waist-belt you absolutely won’t, Wild-Woman,” the swordsman snarled into the earpiece, Yoru circling around and pushing the troops back with one fell swipe. Mihawk’s teeth drew themselves back, enraged at his taunt being met with a small melodic giggle.

“Oh, this is how we’re playing, is it?” You whispered breathily into the earpiece, your spear clutched within the fist of your dominant hand as you stabbed at the next approaching foe. You giggled again, feeling at home on the battlefield. The life drained from the eyes of the enemy under the tip of your spear; another shipful of foes falling on their knees at your expert ministrations.

“Fine,” you smiled into the earpiece, singsong and humor dripping from your tongue, “I’ll see your belt and raise you my entire breastplate.” Mihawk growled in response. You held your ground, immediately flinging yourself at the next ship.

Rather than to take on several members of this crew, you shrugged your shoulders and thrust your spear downwards - sinking the vessel below your feet. You sprinted against the ship’s deck as it began to be claimed by the sea water below, ushering you on to the next ship. You threw your spear to the next vessel, embedding the tip into a lit cannon and witnessed the beautiful implosion it made; launching the spear back into your awaiting palm as you jumped onto the next one. The blast sunk the ship it was fired from, the cannonball flinging itself to sink the one laying perpendicular to the vessel.

Mihawk was not paying attention to your battle mastery, assuming you were still undertaking the first vessel you had docked your ship against and fighting like some untrained and feral marine. He snickered at the thought, himself already aboard his second vessel after pushing back the troop from their approach of the shore.

“I’m looking forward to claiming your breastplate,” Mihawk’s voice audibly smirked into the earpiece, “to add to the winning pool, I’ll claim that spear too.” A shiver of anticipation shuddered against his spine at the audible growl he managed to pull from your parted lips. Holding your spear more firmly within your hand, you growled back at him.

“There are several things I doubt you’d be able to do correctly, swordsman. Wielding my spear is the first that springs to mind,” you smirked, watching the bubbling of water rise as another ship sank against your skill, “pleasing a woman is the other.”

In order to remain silent while listening to your quips back and forward to each other, Vice-Admiral Garp clapped his wide palm over his lips to stifle an outrageous and unbridled laugh rising in his chest. Bogard smirked, hearing the commotion from the speaker molded into the desktop den-den-mushi, placing his hat over his eyes to hide his joy.

“I’ll gladly show you I can on both counts, woman.”

“You can certainly try, warlord”

“I will absolutely succeed, fellow warlord.”

Garp and Bogard were held on the edge of their seats, watching through binoculars the battle mastery balanced between you both while your quippy dialogue read as commentary to your mighty feats.

“Fine,” you again smirked into your earpiece, clothes and armor littered with the spilt blood of your enemies while your hair stuck to your face under the salty sea-spray, “If I am to give up my weapon to the cause, I will have something of equal value offered in return.”

“Yoru is not something I would ever part with for something as childish as a-,” Mihawk began, his words halting as you offered your trade.

“-If I win this little coo, you pretentious prick, your pride is coming with me,” you called into the shell attached to your ear. Feeling all the pent up rage and frustration of the respect of your skill not being met in return for your affection, you offered the best solution you could find.

“If I get to these exact coordinates, all foes falling before me,” you relayed the coordinates, Garp, Bogard and Mihawk hanging on your every utterance, “you will report back to Vice-Admiral Garp donning nothing but your stupid cross-blade, your stupid Yoru and your feathered hat.” The battle paused, the enemies halting their approach with their brows furrowing in almost disgust and awe. You held up a halting hand at them, awaiting a vocal response from Mihawk to your taunt.

Mihawk’s brows themselves were lowered, his eyes narrowed as he sought you out in the field. He couldn’t find you, couldn’t see a trail of destruction in your wake. He continued to search for you within the crowd, but was still unable.

“In that complete and utter unlikelihood,” Mihawk began, still craning his neck to seek out your form, “I accept the terms. Prepare to have your spear, your breastplate and my own satisfaction in claiming some semblance of femininity from you while I wield your body effortlessly.”

“And you prepare yourself to be absolutely humbled in response, your pride and ego removed because-,” you smirked, your eyes finally meeting with the yellow hue of the feathered warlord only a few hundred feet away from you, “-I’m nearly there.”

Mihawk’s eyes widened as he witnessed you jump to the next vessel, twirling within the air to throw a small axe into the base of the ship and sinking it by placing a wide hole within its bow. You were, indeed, very close to the coordinates. His widened gaze looked harder, noticing the absence of over half of the wide armada sinking to the bottom of the sea. How had he not noticed it before? Why, in all his stupidity, would he ever agree to this without looking properly first? Clearly, he had underestimated you. Or overestimated his ability to easily outmatch you.

The elements had changed along with the tide. Your battle-ready ferocity was overcast by an aura of calm playfulness; you giggling into the earpiece as you continued falling foe after foe beneath your spear, fist and axes. In turn, Mihawk was the one to begin to shower himself desperately in the blood of his enemies; curling up his lip at the mess alongside his stupidity at undertaking such a bet.

“C’mon Hawk, keep up. You’re nearly there. Flap your wings harder,” you’d giggle into the earpiece, uncaring whether blood, sinew or bone showered your body in the baptism of battle.

“Stop your stupid teeth from gnashing, Hyena. Your taunts mean very little to me,” Mihawk panted, his feet carrying him with more haste as he continued to unblinkingly search for you.

You giggled again in response, your feet almost carrying themselves closer to the finish line. Your enemies within the armada were fleeing from the utter horror you created, your wolfy grin and playful eyes not matching the energy of the gore befalling your form. Many simply dove overboard, ran to the next ship away from you in their cowardly retreat - only to be met with another approaching warlord with his mighty sword clutched in his dominant hand.

As Mihawk panted for breath, his adrenaline propelling him to the finish line leaving a trail of destruction in his wake; his steps quivered in his tracks as his gaze met with yours.

You were sitting on a barrel, twirling the twine around your spearhead nonchalantly with a litter of bodies laying at your feet. Your left brow was arched upwards, the knowing smirk plastered against your plush lips as you hummed a tune of victory through your nose.

“Looks like I’ll get to see what your other sword looks like,” you cooed in a melodic tune, not meeting his gaze and remaining aloof, “you can leave your boots at my feet. I think I might wear your coat home with me, Swordsman.”

“You are disgusting,” Mihawk spat at you, his breath finally catching up with him. He was now left breathless at witnessing your ferocity, the wild shape of your battle-worn eyes holding him hostage with tense emotion.

“You agreed to the terms, Mihawk. Now it’s time to pay up-,” you uttered darkly, snapping your head over to his form with your eyes narrowed at him.

“-I meant your appearance. So wild, so feral, so-,” his next words caught in his throat as you drew yourself down from your sat position atop the barrel, “-unladylike.” You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes in your approach. Wiping your forehead with the back of your arm, you rid your face of the bone, blood and sinew blocking your view of him. He was a very pretty man, the most beautiful you had seen in a long time. Although slightly taken aback by his clean and uptight appearance, you stood your ground.

“What would you have me wear then? Silks and satins while I dance amongst the chaos? I think not, lord Dracule Mihawk,” you spat at him, laughing dryly at your own comment. Mihawk sucked in a small breath through his nostrils, wincing at your comment with his lips curled into a snarl. You overemphasized a sigh, placing your spear against your back and stretched your arms to cool down your body.

“I’ll make you another deal then, Mihawk,” you smirked again up at his towering form, “I’ll go and get cleaned up and don some pretty little dress for you,” you prodded his bare chest with your index finger and traced a pattern against his pectorals, “and you can go and relay the play by play to Vice-Admiral Garp completely starkers, okay?”

Mihawk growled, eyes looking to your tender touch against his chest and almost again finding himself falling to his knees under your radiant ferocity. He rolled his neck, arched his soldiers back and leaned into your touch.

“Fine,” he spat in response, gripping your bloodied wrist beneath his palm and curled fingertips, “but it better be something tight and preferably black.” You giggled at his comment, raising your other hand up to his cheek and patting it affectionately with a small utterance.

“What a good boy you are,” you praised him with another cooing taunt, scrunching up your nose and smiling with your feral eyes, “now take off your boots, coat and pants and run along now. I’ll be all dolled up for you and ready for you at the waterfront tavern. I might even see that your clothes are cleaned, pressed and waiting once you arrive.”

Your comment finally broke him, a warm laugh cracking through his tough exterior and rumbling within his chest to pour from his mustached lips.

“It’s a shame I lost,” he leant his cheek into your touch, prompting you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He stooped his form lower to you, tickling your face with his playful and breathy whisper, “I would’ve liked to have shown you how well I can please a woman.”

BONUS

Eyes were either focussed exclusively on the ceiling or marines would simply turn around as the darkened and well seasoned lord of Kuraigana entered the military office building. Holding true to his word, and the promise of good company after his humiliation, he sauntered confidently into Vice-Admiral Garp’s office donning nothing but Yoru strapped to his back, his cross-blade hanging loosely from his neck, and his feathered hat atop his sea-sprayed, curled, dark locks.

#Mihawk #one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x warlord!reader #dracule mihawk

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hischierswhore · 10 months

Text

mr perfectly fine

part 2 of this fic

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

"Rise & shine, sleepy head” Kika said as you slowly opened our eyes, only to be met with the blinding lights from outside. After grabbing the pillow and burying your face in it to conceal you from the harsh lights, you noticed the room got darker, meaning Kika had closed the curtains.

“How did you even get in?” You rubbed your eyes.

“Spare key”

“30 more minutes? Please?” You begged your friend to give you a bit of extra time.

“If I give you 30 minutes, you’ll ask me for another 45 after so no. Get up” She pulled the sheets from you and dragged you out of bed.

“Why am I going to this thing anyways?”

“Because I have an extra ticket for this event, and you promised me that you would come”

“Just take Pierre or something” You said, still half asleep

“He’s already going with the rest of the grid. Obligations” Her words immediately snapped you awake.

“The rest of the grid?” Kika nodded.

“You might not even see Lan- sorry. He who shall not be named. You’ll be with me the entire night” She gently rubbed your arm in attempt to reassure you that all would be fine.

Kika was the first person you told about the breakup. You ghosted everyone for a few days after Lando had left you, ignoring all calls and messages from the outside world. Kika, your best friend, was beyond concerned with your sudden disappearance and decided to pay you a visit. Using her spare key, that she also seemed to use for non-emergency reasons, she walked right into your home and found you sitting on the couch with the bags under your eyes heavier than ever before.

"What if he tries to talk to me?" You threw yourself on your bed dramatically, watching as Kika browsed through your wardrobe. Following the breakup, you had stalked Lando's social media and he didn’t seem to be fazed by the breakup, and if he had, he didn't show it.

He returned to his life of traveling and nonstop adventures with his fellow drivers. Attending all sorts of parties and festivals, which he was free to do, but what wasn’t right to you was how he didn’t seem hurt in the slightest.

It’d been a month since that night. You still remember the stove illuminating the “1:58am” across your living room as you watched Lando leave.

“What about this one?” Kika pulled out a sparkling red dress and showed it to you.

“I don’t know-“

"Think of this as revenge. You can show him what he's missing. And if you do run in to him, so what? You know I won’t hesitate to give him a good ole’ karate chop in the head" She karate chopped the air, and you burst out in laughter at her movement.

If you wanted revenge, like Kika suggested, you needed to show up looking my best and not let your emotions take over.

After you & Kika had finished getting ready, you called an Uber to take you from your flat over to the event you were attending.

You both entered the banquet hall with all eyes on you. Or maybe their attention was on Kika and her stunning (per usual) dress. Either way, you rarely ever got attention like this, and to say it scared you was an understatement.

You both approached the trio of Pierre, Carlos and Charles, joining in on their conversation.

“We missed having you around, Y/n” Charles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. The group hadn’t seen you in a while due to your breakup with their friend.

“I missed seeing you guys” You said as a figure joined the group. You head turned to greet the person but you immediately jumped back, shocked at the sight: It was Lando, with some new blonde by his side.

Your plans of getting revenge went flying out the window, and right now you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and never leave. The group was just as shocked as you were, glancing between Lando and the blonde.

You leaned into Carlos’ ear and excused yourself, to which he nodded and promised to relay the message to the rest of the group.

As you bolted to the nearest bathroom, you wanted to burst into tears. You locked yourself in the stall and tried your hardest not to cry, instead trying to think happy thoughts.

Back at the group, Kika noticed the moment you left and turned to Lando. The blonde had also excused herself to go speak to some of her friends.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Norris” She sounded completely disgusted with Lando.

“What did I do?” Lando asked as he looked around, watching as Charles smacked a hand onto his face in disappointment.

“What didn’t you do, Lando? You broke up with Y/n only a week after your podium in Silverstone because you “had to” for the sake of your relationship? In what fucking world does that make sense?” Kika said before Carlos spoke up

“You claimed to love her, but then you show up here, only a month after you left her, with a new girl on your arm? Guess you really did love Y/n enough to replace her like nothing”

“And then you acted like you did nothing wrong. You didn’t show the slightest bit of remorse for leaving her, with that shit excuse by the way” Charles added.

“Have you even apologized at all?” Pierre asked, watching Lando’s gaze fall down to his feet.

“No” He mumbled.

“You really think he would apologize? He left her hopes high, insinuating that he would come back for her, when in reality it was just an excuse to find someone new” Kika was nearly shouting at this point, and Pierre signaled for her to go find you to ensure you were okay.

- later on -

You were sat at your table with Pierre, Kika, Charles and Carlos. You were all talking when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned your head to see who was trying to get your attention and it was none other than Lando himself.

“Can I help you?” You asked as you turned your attention back to the rest of the table, not wanting to speak to him right now, or at all for that matter.

“Can we talk? Alone?” You sigh as you nod your head, unsure as to why you’re even agreeing to this. You excuse yourself from the table and all eyes are on you as you walk away with Lando right behind you.

You turn to face him once you’re out of sight from everyone at the event.

“What did you want?” You folded your arms across your chest. Lando inhaled deeply and he seemed nervous.

“I want to apologize. For everything. I wanted to focus on racing and winning and I just couldn’t see myself doing that with you in my life”

“So… you lied to me and made it seem like you were doing this for me? You made it seem like you were going to come back for me, Lando. But really you just wanted to leave and never return”

“I shouldn’t have made it seem like that. I’m so sorry” You stayed silent, contemplating what to say next.

“Who’s the blonde?” You questioned, watching the lump in Lando’s throat.

“Oh she’s uhm… my date” He refused to make eye contact with you as you scoffed at his answer.

“Interesting how you said you loved me and that you always would, yet you replaced me like nothing happened at all and moved on after a month. Somehow you’re “Mr Perfectly Fine” after all this, so clearly you didn’t love me half as much as you said you did ” Lando could only mutter apologies yet still refused to make any sort of eye contact with you.

“Well this was lovely, but I’m going to go back to my table” You said nothing else as you made your way back to the table, shoulder checking him as you passed. You walked back into the dining hall to see everyone quickly turning their heads back around to seem as if they weren’t waiting for you to come back.

As you sat down, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders; you were finally free and you would be alright someday.

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

taglist

@chelseagirl98 @firehazardxx @judesgfirl @celestialams @xjval

#✎ natalie writes #lando norris #lando norris angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine

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discordantwritings · 1 day

Text

Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex

WC: 3.3k

Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.

The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional

Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.

Tagging: @keiva1000

Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.

Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.

Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.

“Doctor-“

“How bad.”

“It’s Mihawk.”

That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”

“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.

You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.

“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.

You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”

“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.

There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”

You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.

“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.

You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”

“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.

“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”

You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.

All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.

“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.

“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“

He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”

Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“

“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.

“You have my word.”

“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”

It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”

His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.

“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”

Oh.

That would certainly explain a few things.

You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…

“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“What else.”

“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.

“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”

“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”

You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”

That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.

“I would help you.”

You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?

Beyond wildly inappropriate.

“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.

“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.

Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.

Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”

“Last chance.”

The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“

The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.

The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.

You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.

“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.

“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.

The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.

Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.

“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”

You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.

“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.

“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.

Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.

“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.

Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.

You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.

“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.

You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.

Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.

“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”

There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”

When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.

“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.

“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.

“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.

“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.

Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.

“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.

“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”

He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.

“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.

There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.

“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“

Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.

“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.

When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”

“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”

The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.

“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.

“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #discordantwritings

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whiskersz · 2 months

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hiya, sos idk if you do platonic fics but if you do can you do a platonic husk x younger reader? maybe they knew each other when they were alive and meet again and husk is protective over them? thank u! :)

Hello! I sure do write platonic relationships :3 I hope this is good enough, in this I imagine Reader to be a young adult, around 20. Hope that's okay, thanks for requesting!

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Hell is…well. You wouldn’t really know how else to describe it, other than with its name. And deep inside you know you’re a sinner, there’s no denying that if you ended up here...but you feel like you could never get used to living like this.

Even in life, you’ve never been a fan of gory scenarios, robberies, violence and whatnot, and if anything you could say that the reason why you ended up here is because of a stupid mistake you made, but Heaven couldn’t take you in because of that, so now you find yourself here...in front of the Hazbin Hotel, hoping for a last chance at redemption.

Before you can even knock on the door tough, you’re welcomed by an eerie shadow quickly taking the form of an individual right before your very eyes;

“Greetings fellow Sinner!” He welcomes you with a wide smile, extending his hand for you to take, which you reluctantly do; “And welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! It’s a pleasure to be meeting you, I’m Alastor, and I will gladly be your host!”

His handshake is so firm it nearly makes you lose your balance; you compose yourself though, and nod, taking in all the information that’s been given to you – Alastor, the host...alright, that means you’re probably going to be safe with him especially once you’re inside.

“Thank you sir, I was just looking for someone willing to do that!” the nervousness is palpable in your voice, but you still try to match his energy by flashing him a smile. Alastor nods and opens the door for you like a true gentleman, which you thank him for.

The interior design of the place looks quite lovely in your opinion, the walls a deep red and pavements covered by gorgeous patterned rugs; various decorations make the main room more hospitable, and although you’re mesmerized by the place you carefully listen as Alastor explains that it would technically be a bit too early for newcomers to be welcomed, which is why nobody else other than him is around – you looked quite lost though, his word, so he decided to take it upon himself to at least bring you inside.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, I had no idea- I can always come back later, it’s not a-“

“Eh, what’s all the commotion about?”

A rough voice interrupts the exchange of words between you and Alastor; your gaze travels all the way towards the flight of stairs leading to the top floor, where a demon in the form of a winged anthropomorphic cat is standing.

His voice sounds curiously familiar.

“Ah, Husker! How goes it! Why don’t we start the introductions with you!” Alastor points at him with the staff he’s been using mostly to sustain his weight until now; “This is the bartender, dear.”

Husker? Now, that name sounds more than familiar.

“Husk?” you ask tentatively, studying his appearance.

His ears, formerly back, now stand up right, and his tail sways from side to side in what you can only assume is excitement.

“What...yes? Wait, it’s you?” He whispers your name, still unbelieving.

You quickly leave Alastor’s side, running straight into Husk’s embrace instead; he immediately drapes a wing over you protectively, and you can’t really see it from where you’re positioned, but the glare he shoots the host is one of anger before his gaze softens looking at you once again.

“I’ve missed you...” you admit, before realization hits you; “Wait, you’re in Hell? Why?”

“I should be asking the same thing, kid. Let’s leave explanations for later, yeah? Always told you I wasn’t a good person.”

His wing pulls you closer, and you savour the embrace for as long as you can before you reluctantly have to separate from him.

“Well, I suppose that is my cue to leave!” says Alastor, clasping his hands together before eerily disappearing back into the shadows.

Shortly after, the rest of the residents of the Hotel sleepily make their own appearance. This time, it’s Husk’s job to introduce you to everyone, never leaving your side all the while. Charlie is especially excited to have one more patient who is also one of Husk’s old friends, as he doesn’t seem to have many after all.

Husk immediately makes sure to shelter you from Angel Dust’s dirty jokes; as much as he and Angel get along, he finds it uncomfortable to hear him flirting with you. The spider demon initially calls him ‘not fun’, but he understands where he’s coming from and actually agrees with him as you’re much younger.

Once you and Husk have the time to catch up, you both explain the reason why you’ve ended up here to each other. Yes, you were close in life, but he’s always preferred keeping his life quite private and so have you, both keeping your sins to yourselves. You’re both glad you’re here though, on the right path for redemption...in one way or another.

You distinctly remember how he used to amaze you with his magic tricks back when you were alive; he’d host little shows just for you, your smile contagious as he showed you all that he was capable of.

You also remember the sadness you felt when the time to get separated came, but he had promised you that one day you would meet again. And now here you are, indeed. Though your reunion was unexpected, you’re still glad it happened.

Husk is happy to see that you get along with all of his friends, too. He tries to encourage you to stay away from Alastor and you gladly do so, as you don’t really want to engage with the owner of who you consider your best friend, but still put on a smile every time he talks to you to remain on his good side. Everyone else though, you’re on good terms with, and he couldn’t be happier that you found a safe place to stay at even though you unfairly ended up in Hell.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #husk and reader #husk hazbin hotel #husk hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husker #platonic relationship #reader insert #husk x reader #husk x reader platonic

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j-u-u-z-o · 1 month

Text

“Wherever you will go; I will go.” (Atsumu Miya x F. Reader NSFW‼️ 18+)

AN: Hey guys! Here’s another atsumu fic that I came up with while I was on mid winter break in February! So, we all know that he’s a popular volleyball ball player and he travels a lot because of his career. So, why not make use of that fact? ❤️ As always, I can’t get enough of him. Plus, I was listening to “wherever you will go” by The Calling that motivated me to write this scenario 🙃

Synopsis: The MSBY team is on tour in Japan and their coach allows them to bring a guest with them for the first time so that they can get an immersive experience of the team’s volleyball career. Atsumu couldn’t pass up the opportunity to bring you along with him instead of Osamu. You’re his antidote — the love of his life! 💞

Link to the dress that reader wears in the story! (So cute) 💕

WARNING: NSFW, 18+, extremely cuddly fox boyfriend lol, he’s clingy af, he’s so in love, making out, foreplay, smut, squirting, GRAMMAR.

Please take your time and dive into the story, and I hope you enjoy reading! 😇💗

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21:39PM

“Make your first step faster next time!” A teammate said, sitting on the other side of the bus.

“Yeah! Cause’ if you get into a solid attacking position faster, ” The spiky grey haired teammate quickly got up from his seat. “Then the SETTER can make it easier for YOU to get a better set, you understand?” He said.

“Oooohhh” Hinata nodded quickly as he looked up at him.

“Well duh!” Atsumu randomly blurted out, sitting behind Hinata. “I’ve seen shortie on the big court making a BIG ass presence every time he jumps in the air — like a god damn a ninja CAT!” He added, resting his arms above Hinata’s headrest on the seat.

“Y-yeah! It gives us more options on attacking the opposing team too!” Hinata said, his eyes shining with pure joy in the dim lit vehicle. Bokuto, who sat next to the short man, hummed deeply as the rest of the team agreed and laughed together with their close friends. Atsumu grinned at the two men and patted the orange haired fellow’s head and turned his head back to you — to check on you.

“Be right back.” He announced, smiling at your small figure all the way in the back as he stood up from the seat. He patted Bokuto’s shoulder and walked in the narrow aisle to where you were sitting. The moving bus was filled with laughter and joy as the team were headed to their next tour spot in Tokyo. Fortunately, their coach had announced that they could bring their friends or relatives with them for the next couple of days. Atsumu couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. So, he brought his high school sweetheart. You.

You looked up and saw his figure when he got back to his original seat. You smiled softly at the blonde and took off your right earphone. “Hey there, beautiful.” He grinned, still standing in the aisle as he looked down at you wearing the beautiful dress he bought for the 5th anniversary of being together. An off shoulder ruffled dress. Revealing your beautiful collarbone and shoulders. He admired your beautiful body. “Come here you perv!” You giggled softly, patting on the empty seat next to you. “Don’t mind if I do~” he smirked and sat down next to you. “You’re so silly, Tsumu.” You spoke softly, still giggling at him. “Hm. M’ jus’ happy that ya get to come with me.” He puckered his lips for a kiss, playfully . “I’m glad you chose wisely.” You giggled and leaned foward to kiss him. He hummed when both lips met and smacked against each other, playfully. Soft and slowly. He could’ve brought his twin along but he didn’t want to miss the “perfect” opportunity to be with YOU for a few days. He chose wisely, indeed.

“Mmmm.” He broke the kiss and licked his bottom lip. “Whatcha watchin’?” He turned his head to the small screen in front of you. “Watching Howls Moving Castle.” You turned to look at the screen too. “Again?” He said sarcastically. You pouted. He chuckled at your expression. He knows that you watched the movie way too many times. Whether you watch it as his place or at your dorm, or on a road trip, he lost count. “Ya’ a hardcore ghibili fan.” He mumbled. Which earned him a light smack on his shoulder. “I’m Jus’ playin’ with ya~” He gave a throaty laugh and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. You looked up at him with another pout and puckered your lips. “Don’t stop. You’re too cute.” He kissed your forehead gently.

—————-

22:01 PM

As the coach bus moved, the mixes of laughter and commotion still flowed in the air. “Yeah. We’re going to “Aman Tokyo” Hotel. a’ heard that it’s a very luxurious hotel. We’re gonna be stayin’ for a week or something….” You hummed as you rested your head on his shoulder and listened to him. He looked so excited about this trip that it made you feel warm inside. “Yeah….That means more US time.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Yeah. I know, babe.” You giggled, resting your hand on his thigh. He hummed again and continued talking about the team’s game schedule, practices and off days and more. You were intrigued by his excitement. And, you were so grateful to be there to spend it with him. “Oh! There’s also some places I wanna take ya’ too.” “Hm? “ Like what?” “ it’s a’surprise.” He whispered. “Tell me!” You whined at him playfully, listening to his chuckles. “Nu-uh!” He motioned his finger and tapped your cute scrunched nose.

————-

After a while, atsumu was quietly watching the movie with you. The other earphone was in his right ear and the other was in your left ear. He then ripped his eyes away from the small screen and looked out in the aisle. Most of his teammates were still chatting about previous matches they won and the others were sleeping in their seats — scattered around in the bus. Luckily for the two of you, it was very quiet in the back of the bus. With no one around. He leaned back and then looked down at you. Your eyes shined with interest as the movie played. “Babe.” He whispered, leaning down to get your attention. “Hm?” You turned to him and looking into his dark brown eyes. “Come here.” He tapped on his lap. You blinked at the man. “I wanna be closer to ya, baby.” He looked at your dowey eyes. You nodded and he smiled as he moved over to your seat. “Ow!” He jolted, moving the seat buckle away from his ass. You giggled as he made it to your seat and held on to your waist. He gently pulled you down to his lap and wrapped his arms around you. “That’s better.” He kissed your temple. You hummed softly, leaning back against his chest with your legs hooked over his own, feeling even more comfortable in his warm embrace. Safe in his arms, you noted.

A few minutes into the movie, he was getting bored. He brushed your inner thighs with feather light strokes with his fingertips, slowly. you squirmed. He smirked and did it again and you giggled in his hold. “Stooop~” you drawled lowly, trying to keep his hands away from your ticklish spots while you were trying to watch the movie. He chuckled. “Tsu-!” He began tickling your sides. “Ah!” You tried to hold your laughter, attempting to escape from his childish antics. He pulled you back to his chest and tickled you more. “Ts-mu-wah!” You squeaked in between your giggles. “Ya so ticklish~!” He looked at you lovingly and chuckled. “Oh my -ah!” Your head fell back on his shoulder while you were trying to evade his ticklish attacks. “ ah-I’m misSING the g-good parts!” You squeaked again, your cheeks were aching from your relentless laughter. “Hm? Can’ hear ya~!” He nuzzled his face in your neck and kept going. Your giggles and failed attempts to stop him from being so childish were just so cute. Your muffled laughters are music to his ears; it warms his heart. “Stoooppp~!” You giggled, “Tehee!” You squeaked when he peppered your neck with kisses as he tickled your tummy. You’re the cutest person in his world. “Say please!” He teased, chuckling while he increases his pace tickling you. “I’m gonna p-pee~!” You whined, your eyes were getting watery with your sweet giggles. Your boyfriend is so sweet but you might actually pee on him if he doesn’t stop. He stops and rests his face in your neck while you breathed heavily. “You’re too much, Tsumu.” You sniffed, feeling putty in his lap as you looked out the window, lazily. “‘S my middle name, baby.” You chuckled and rewarded him with a few gentle head scratches on his undercut.

“ ’m so lucky ta’ have ya’ in my life.” He mumbled in your neck. You turned your head to look at him and he lifts up his head too. You smiled softly at him and he did the same before leaned forward to kiss you. Your lips happily wrapped around his. Both lips smacking in tandem, lovingly. “Me too.” You whispered softly, giving a few more gentle scratches on the back of his head before kissing him again. Deeply and slowly. The kisses were so distracting that you were missing some good parts in the movie. His tongue circled around yours and he kissed you passionately. “Mmm.” Atsumu’s hand slid up to your breast and kneaded it. “Mm.” You moaned in the heated kisses, his hand massaging the flesh gently in his warm palm. You broke the kiss and looked down at his ministrations. He brought the other hand up and did the same to your other breast and looked at you. Your cheeks felt warm as he did. A satisfied sigh left your lips when he squished them together and his fingers brushed your covered nipples softly; earning a moan from you. “Here?” He used his middle fingers to brush them slowly. “Mm.” You hummed, relishing the soft strokes on your nipples. He stroked them lovingly as he started leaving soft kisses on your cheek. “Unh.” You moaned softly, the feathery strokes were making you squirm in his lap.

Your head fell back on his left shoulder and his lips trailed down to your neck. You looked at the reflection of the two of you in the dim lit vehicle. You oversee the way his fingers strokes your covered nipples slowly and his head slowly moving in tandem with his lips attached to your soft skin. You closed your eyes to relish the pure pleasure that you were feeling in his embrace. Soon after, he pulled down the top of ruffled dress slowly. You felt the fabric brush your skin as he did; even your nipples until he let it rest under your plump breasts. Your breath hitched when he slowly worked his hands to your breasts and cupped them. They were so hot yet so soft on your skin that you twitched. “Unh.” You breathed out, His dark brown orbs stared at your beautiful globes as he kneaded them gently. “Tsumu.” You whispered to him as he massages them together. “Hm?” He said, his eyes not ripping away from your soft plump breasts. His eyes flickered to your hands as it rested above his own. “Ya okay?” He mumbled, his fingers caressing around your breasts feathery but not close to your nipples. Your breath stammered as he did and he smirked. “Wanna watch another movie?” He whispered close to your ear. You whimpered when he started circling your nipples dangerously slow. “Ah.” You sighed, the feathery sensations felt so good that your pussy started throbbing. They were getting harder every second as he did. He chuckled. “Is that a ye-“

Suddenly quick footsteps were coming down the aisle and he quickly pulled the top of your dress up. You quickly sat up and looked closely at the screen — Hiding your flushed face and tapping on anything on the screen to look like you were busy looking for another movie to watch. his hands remained on your waist and sucked his teeth in annoyance, while he watched what you were doing. A teammate was looking for something in his gym bag which was two rows away from the two of you. Atsumu pretended to be interested in whatever you were clicking on the screen, in annoyance. “Oh!” Atsumu ripped his eyes away from the screen and looked up at the man who shouted, “I got them!” He raised his arm. Atsumu raised an eyebrow and noticed something in his hand. A pack of UNO cards.

Really? Atsumu looked at him with a blank expression — as he held the deck of cards up.

He ran back to the front of the bus to sit with the rest of the group. “Can’ they go ta’ sleep early like kids do? Pas’ midnight.” He grumbled. “You’re one to talk, Tsumu.” Yo rolled your eyes. Your cheeks were still hot too. He smirked at you and bit his bottom lip. He chuckled. “I know, baby.” He pulled you back to his chest and another movie started playing.

————-

1:01AM

As the bus drove in the empty highway, The commotions from the other teammates had lessened. Most of them were sleeping in their seats and a few were watching a movie with their earphones on. And you? You were watching another ghibli movie, of course. Whereas atsumu was scrolling through TikTok.

Thump!

Your body shifted from the sudden bump that he gasped from the feeling he felt from your ass. He wrapped an arm around your form and pulled your form closer to his. Your back close to his chest, he started leaving soft kisses on your neck. Slowly and steadily. It made you feel warm inside. You brought your hand up and rested it on the back of his head — to keep him there. He’s so clingy, you noted as you watched the movie. Eventually, he broke away and looked up — Checking to see if his teammates were still quiet or asleep. He grinned as if the “coast was clear” as he looked down the rows of the bus’s headrests. You noticed that he had not continued his cuddles with you and you looked up at him. “What’s wrong?” You said softly, checking to see if he was okay. He looked down at you and smiled. “Let’s get comfy.” He whispered and kissed your temple. You hummed in agreement and he pushed the seat back. He leaned back and pulled you close to his chest and spreads his legs more comfortably. He wrapped an arm around you and rested his free hand on your right thigh underneath your dress. “I feel like a koala.” You giggled, you looked up at him and rubbed the other hand that was resting on your tummy. He snorted. “My baby koala, in fact.” He chuckled softly and kissed your soft lips. “Mmm.” You hummed and turned back to the screen.

After a while, you started to stretch your back. You sat up and pressed your ass on his member. Atsumu slid his hand and digged his fingers into your side at the sensation. His right hand moved up to your inner thigh and caressed your warm skin. You paid no mind to it. He’s clingy, after all. However, he rolled his hips up to your ass and you whimpered. He did it again and you shivered when he slid his hand up to your panties and applied some brushed his finger against your covered pussy. “Mm.” You mewled, twitching at the feathery sensation. He then slid his finger up and down the fabric slowly; brushing it with soft strokes as you watched the film. The digit felt so good on your clothed pussy that you grounded your hips; applying pressure on his covered cock, earning a guttural moan from him. “Mm. Tsumu...” You called softly, relishing the smooth sensation of his fingertip circling your pussy against the fabric. He knows. “Hm?” He said, circling your clit softly. You turned to look at him and he leaned over to kiss your lips. Slowly, his soft lips enveloped yours and smacked against it, passionately. He cupped your pussy in the midst of the deep kisses and then brushed your clit with his middle finger with enough pressure. You moaned in the middle of the kisses and arched your back; relishing the gentle strokes on your clit. Atsumu moaned as he had already felt the imprint of your clit against his fingertip. You squirmed in his arm as he did. Circling your clit, dangerously slow and then sliding it down to your cunt. Teasing it with feather light strokes. “Mmrh!” You quivered, kissing him deeply at the sensation.

As the movie illuminated your faces and his fingertips circling your clothed pussy lovingly, your soft moans echoed in his ears while you circled your hips against the crafty digit for more friction than you were already receiving. Rewarding him with the same amount of friction his clothed member was getting. Atsumu kissed you deeply with his eyes shut as he did his task. “Mmmm.” You wrapped your arm around the back of his neck while you started bucking your hips up against his fingers a bit quickly. Soon after, he rubbed your clit quickly and followed. Humping his fingers feverishly to your release. “U-unh!” You whispered breathlessly, twitching as you rolled your hips against the digits to cool off your throbbing pussy. “Mmmm.” He moaned, rubbing it enough pressure to aid you, while hip lips enveloped. You broke away from the kiss to breathe. Your pussy was still pulsating with excitement. Begging for more of that familiar feeling it knows too well. Atsumu nuzzled his face in your neck and kissed it softly, as you did. Still gently brushing your pussy against the wet patch of your panties. Slipping against his calloused fingers, easily. “You’re so wet, baby.” He mumbled in your neck, feeling your arousal on his fingertips. “Oh…wow.” You breathed heavily, gripping his MSBY jacket while you were still cooling off.

He pulled your panties to the side and dipped his finger in between your folds. He slid it up and down and pulled it out. “Wow.” He raised his hand to see it glistening in the air. You watched him rub it between his finger and thumb. The thin line of your arousal stretching before you in the dim lit bus. You blushed and tucked your lips in as he did. “Let’s get this off.” You shyly lifted up yourself up as he puts his hands on the waistline of your panties and pulled it down. You pulled your left leg out from one of the holes and he lets the other rest on your ankle. He pulled you back to his chest gently and pushed your legs back. You shivered. Feeling too exposed when you felt his hands slide down and in between to your inner thighs. “Mm.” You whimpered, shyly looking at his fingers brush your puffy slick lips. “Look at that.” He whispered, looking at his fingers glistening as he rubbed your pussy. You choked on your breath whenever it brushed your throbbing clit. “Ahh.” You sighed, shutting your eyes in response to his fingers flicking your clit, softly. “Relax baby.” He whispered, moving your head back to rest on his shoulder as he brushed your pussy slowly, up and down. Stroking the fires in the pit of your stomach as you it pulsates. You whined. Feeling another wave of relief coming. “Just like that baby.” He whispered, rubbing it slowly. “Relax and let it out.” His eyes followed his fingers circling your sensitive clit and the other hand teasing your cunt with feather light caresses. “Uuunnh.” You drawled lowly, looking out the window, relishing the slow motions of his digits stroking your throbbing pussy. “Mmmm. You’re doing so good, baby.” He whispered. “Yeah…you look so pretty like that.” His passionate whispers of encouragement and praises fluttered all over your body. Making you throb with each brush of his fingers. Like soft feathers brushing against your skin and down to your clit. “Ugh.” your legs started trembling. you were feeling a rush of pure relief flow through your body. “U-ungh.” You hiccuped, your body starting to tense up. Soon after, you squirted. “Ahhh” he breathed out close to your ear, praising you for being a such a good girl. Slow yet gentle spurts of fluid came out while he continued brushing your clit very softly. “Ooo.”He hissed. You were choking on your breath as he did — spurting out some more in gentle squirts. “Good girl.” He whispered close to your ear, grinning at you lovingly. He lowered his head and kissed your neck while he still circled your throbbing clit once more; rewarding you before cupping your pussy.

“Mrm.” You hiccuped, twitching as he kissed your neck slowly, whispering how good you did. Atsumu really enjoys pleasing you with his love for you; making melt in his arms. “Look at me.” He said, brushing your thighs slowly. You turned to him. Your dowey eyes looking into his lustrous dark brown eyes in murky lit bus. “I wanna feel ya…more.” He whispered close to your lips before he started nibbling it softly. You lips were like a magnet to his. You both started Licking each other’s lips softly and then kissing it softly. He broke away from you and waited for your answer. You looked up at him. All you could hear was the white noise between you two. Nothing but the sounds of the bus still moving in the empty highway and the light commotions of the other teammates in the front still playing another game of cards in the front row. You nodded slowly and kissed him softly. “Thank you, baby.” He whispered and went back to kissing you. He pulled his sweat pants down along with his boxers just a bit as both lips smacked each other, passionately.

————-

“Put them in here baby.” He pointed at the cup holders. One that was on your right the other one was next to you. He’s quite innovative, you thought. Quietly, you rested the heels of your feet in each of them. He pulled the top of your dress down and brushed your nipples against his soft calloused fingers. A gratified sigh left your lips and he grinned. He dipped his fingers in his mouth and brought them down to your nipples and began rubbing them against your perky nipples. Another sighed left your lips as he circled them softly. He dipped a finger in your mouth and you sucked it gently. “Ahh.” He sighed, his cock throbbed in his pants. You sucked it gently and swiped your tongue around the digit. “Yeah.” He watched you, mesmerized. “Like that, baby.” He whispered before pulling it out and rubbing it on your nipples. You felt his cock twitching underneath your ass.

He then rests his hands on your waist. You lifted your self a bit and aligned his cock to your entrance. Anchoring you, his fingers digged into your skin as you began sinking on his length slowly. “Ah-ahhh.” He choked on his breath, quivering at the sensation of your soft warm walls welcoming him. He dropped his head back on the headrest as you did until you were fully seated.

“Oh fuck.” He’s already in heaven.

You shyly looked down at his hands on your waist. “Come here~.” He whispered, pulling you back to his chest, chuckling at your shyness. “It’s just us.” He added, spreading his legs further apart. Your legs mimicked the motion and clenched around the length. “Ugh.” His eyes widened at the sudden sensation. “I didn’ even move yet baby, hehe.” He chuckled, teasing you. You giggled softly. “Relax baby.” He whispered, pushing your head back on his shoulder. He slid his hand down to your clit and rested it there as he began rolling his hips up, slowly.

————-

You were bouncing on his cock as he thrusted into your cunt feverishly in the moving bus. Your breast bounced around in tandem from his controlled thrusts. Your whimpers and choked breathes never go amiss in the midst of his cock stroking your plush walls. He stopped at random times to help you catch your breath and quickly went back to fucking you restlessly. “Ugh-uuunh.” He moaned, hissing at the sensation of your tight cunt stroking his length. “Ah-unh.” He choked up moans made you clench his cock lovingly. You don’t see it but he’s in pure bliss. His eyes shut and his mouth ajar; his shaken pants was the only thing that made you wetter. “Mmmm.” He bit his bottom lip and slowed down. Relishing the deep long strokes entering your tight cunt. You feel so warm and soft around his cock as he did. “Ooo. Fuck yeah.” He took his time to stroke your walls his cock knows all too well. You rolled your hips up whenever he thrusts deeply in your heat. Like ocean waves pulling him in — never failing to rub your g-spot. “Awh. Yeah.” He whispered, rubbing his fingers on your puffy clit, your warm arousal glazing his length.

He rolled his hips up in tandem with good measure. “Fuck.” He groaned, flicking your clit as his other hand digs into your side. You gasped at the sensation and pulsated. “Unh yeah.” He hissed, the wet skin slapping sounds rang between you two. Each stroke rewarded you with a soft brush on your clit. “Mrrm.” You moaned, rolling your hips around at the sensation. Atsumu brought his other hand up to gropeyour breast as he thrusted deeply in your sobbing cunt. “You feel so good, baby.” He praised you breathlessly, kneading your breast the same way you’re hugging his cock. It all felt too good. You turned your head to him and his lips met yours. He kissed you deeply in the midst of the deep controlled thrusts. “Mmmm.” His big soft hands caressed your breasts and gently tugged your nipples.

One particular thrust made you whimper and clench his length tightly. He deepened the kiss and began fucking your cunt feverishly. Your thighs jiggling above his, your breasts bouncing in his hands made you flutter. Making you even more wetter as he thrusts in your sobbing tight hole. “Mmmm.” You whimpered in the kiss, he slid his hands down to your thighs and brushed it, making your shiver as the filthy wet slapping sounds echoed from you two. You choked on your breath when he kept hitting that perfect spot. “O-oh.” You stammered, your pussy was pulsating at the sensation. You arched your back and his strokes were making you flutter so much at the new angle — slamming into you easily. “Unh.” You sighed softly, the tip kept poking your g- spot relentlessly. “Uuuunh.” He drawled, feeling your walls trembling around him lovingly. He then gripped your hips with an iron grip to pull you down — keeping you there. He thrusted uncontrollably into your sobbing heat. His pants quickened as he did; trying to control himself from your tight cunt as he’s aware of his surroundings. “Mrm!” You whimpered, feeling your release coming sooner than you think. You raised your feet from the cup holders — your panty dangling from your ankle in the air. He wrapped his arms around legs from underneath and pushed youthem back. You squeaked at the new angle. “Ts-s-mu!” You stammered lowly, feeling your release coming closer as he bucked into your throbbing core. He hissed in your ear and tightened his grip around your legs. You grabbed the armrests to hold on for dear life. The squelching sounds grew louder as he slams in your sobbing cunt.

“Ah..fuck!” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, your cunt was squeezing him crazily. You spreads your legs further apart and you looked down. It’s coming. You know you’re about to fall apart in sec—

You hips pushed up and sudden fierce rush of pure relief flows through your body. Quick spurts of your fluids shoots out and you kept twitching as more came out. “Ungh!” You moaned heavily, heeding the sloppy sounds as he thrusts quickly in your cunt. “Agh..agh.” He groaned heavily, relishing the vice grip around his cock as he pushed deeply in your soaked cunt. He started squirming uncontrollably. “Ugh!” He grunted, his hips gyrating as he starts cumming. “Tsu!” You whispered, your body rocking crazily from his ministrations, getting overstimulated. One…two…three hard thrusts and he froze. “Ah!” You squeaked, you twitched up and you squirted again.

————-

You both breathed heavily. Trying to cool off from the intense sex. You felt his chest heaving on your back. Your eyes were so watery that you kept blinking.

After a while, you finally sat up. You noticed a few wet patches on the back of the seat in front of you — as the light from the screen illuminated your faces. You then looked down in between a noticed small puddle of your fluids on the floor. “Come’re.” Atsumu pulled you back to his chest. “Don’ worry, I’ll clean it up.” He muttered next to your ear, caressing your tummy underneath your dress. He noticed your legs were still in the air. “Put your legs down, baby.” He smiled faintly, giving a throaty chuckle. “They’ll see us.” He said purpose. You turned back and glared at him. Your eyes pointing daggers at him. He read your mind. “We c’n watch another movie. If ya want.” He shrugged, smirking like a fox. You still glared at him.

“I love you~” He whispered, squeezing your sides playfully. hoping that you’d forgive him. You still didn’t give in. He leaned over to kiss your cheek to cheer you up. “What~?”He knows you loved it; still not wiping that smirk off his face.

“I’m booking my own room once we get to the hotel.” You stated, hiding the fact that you did. But you didn’t imagine it to be in a public space. His face immediately turned to a sad puppy face. “Wha-“ he gasped. “nOoo~” he whined, looking into your eyes for forgiveness.

He hugged you tightly. You sighed.

He’s so damn clingy.

“Let go of me! I-I need to pee!” You said, as he whined in your neck. “But you did, though. ” he stopped and looked up at you questionably.

“T-that’s different!” You pouted, your cheeks started feeling hot. You pulled the top of your dress up, got up and pulled your dress down.

“Don’t forget your panties, babe. They’ll see.” He smirked, looking down at the pink material around your ankle as you got out of your “seat“. “Shut up Tsumu!” You blushed and opened the restroom door. “G-go clean up!” You whispered before shutting the door in front of him.

He grinned cheekily as took out his dirty sweat towel and started wiping the floor.

“Too late to change rooms now, baby.”

End.

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bg3ficreviews · 1 month

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Thunder reforged: Rolan x Dammon - #BG3 FanFic Review

Review by Aivu (@aivuthedragon)

Happy timezone, dear readers! Today I'm happy to bring you this incredible series of works by velocitross on AO3. What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.

A note from the BG3FicReviews team: The entire BG3 community was been rocked by the recent controversy surrounding Dammon's VA, including the various fanwork creators who've fallen in love with Dammon, included him in their work, and are part of the LGBTQAI+ community themselves. We want to express our support and love to Dammon fans, Dammon fan work creators, the LGBTQAI+ community generally and all those adversely affected by what's happened. As such, we have decided to feature such works in our reviews this week. Make your love louder than the hate. 💜

As always, mind the tags! Our review is continued below the fold due to the NSFW nature of the content in these works.

This incredible artwork by @arczism was inspired by velocitross's Rolan x Dammon fic Working Steel, which is included in today's review.

Working Steel, the first of velocitross’ three works that include this rare pair, is a masterwork in character portrayal. The author adeptly captures the at-a-glance somewhat incompatible personalities of the two tiefling refugees who fled Elturel together and now reside in Baldur’s Gate. In this work, the relationship between Rolan, the ever-surly wizard and the newly ‘appointed’ master of Ramazith Tower, and Dammon, the gentle yet infernally talented blacksmith of the Forge of the Nine, has grown far beyond mere friendship.

Rolan, frustrated by his attempts to catalogue the mindless chaos remaining after the untimely death of the tower’s former owner, approaches Dammon to ask for his help and visits him at his forge. But what could a blacksmith possibly offer a wizard? Well, a good fuck, for one thing. Rolan is pent-up, impatient, and needs a good lay. And, it turns out, so does Dammon. The smut that ensues is not only blazingly hot but also beautifully captures the tender affection between the two tieflings through not only their words, but small, unique gestures of love and care. (Mind the tails. I mean, tags. No, tails.)

In Up in the Tower, it’s Dammon’s turn to visit the wizard’s domain. But the blacksmith receives a less-than-warm welcome, as the ever-grumpy Rolan becomes highly annoyed at having his work interrupted. But considering Rolan is dressed in little more than his underwear and an open robe, I’m more than willing to forgive him for his surliness. Dammon, however, being the sweet, gentle soul that he is, insists on taking care of Rolan beyond his carnal needs alone. In this work, the relationship between the pair deepens, and the author has wonderfully captured the intimacy of the pair. Lastly, we have Within the Storm. This work takes us back to the Shadow-Cursed Lands as the tiefling refugees attempt to cross its desolate lands on their way to Baldur’s Gate. When the Absolute’s forces ambush the group, Rolan expertly wields his magic to stave them off. But when something happens to Zevlor, the battle takes a turn for the worse. In the chaos, Rolan’s siblings, Cal and Lia, are kidnapped and several of his friends and co-travellers are brutally murdered.

Once at Last Light Inn, Rolan is a fucking mess, devastated by his siblings’ capture. Lost in the depths of his despair and way too much drink, the tiefling wizard finds comfort in the arms of a fellow refugee he’d known since childhood - Dammon. And thus the gentlest embers of affection between the pair begin to spark to life. This lovely one-shot serves as a prelude to the author’s much-anticipated long fic about the pair, their growing affection for one another and what looks to be a truly beautiful love story. If you would like to follow velocitross’ incredible work about the love between a tiefling wizard and blacksmith, please be sure to subscribe to the author on AO3 and follow their work and the pending long fic. We have included a snippet of Working Steel below for your enjoyment. As always, please support the writers of our incredible fandom by leaving kudos and comments on their work. 🫶

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Working Steel

By velocitross on AO3

The ring of his hammer fills Dammon’s ears and his attention as he works. A soft frown of focus curves his lips. It’s a simple enough repair—restoring a blade for the halfling woman standing outside the forge watching him work. Still, there’s a satisfaction to it: the rhythm of his strikes, the heat of the day in Baldur’s Gate warming him beneath his layers of apron and clothing. The ordinary busy noise of the city goes on just outside his focus, a subtle, stabilizing comfort even months after the Netherbrain’s defeat.

When he glances up from his work, a distinct figure catches his eye amongst the passersby. Rolan, with his proud bearing and his regal blue and red robes, coming toward the smithy with a tense, bothered scowl and his tail lashing behind him. A smile touches Dammon’s lips. He knows that look.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as Rolan comes to a stop an awkward few feet from the halfling waiting on her sword.

“Well, don’t take too long,” Rolan snaps, and then reddens further when Dammon raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I’ll just—I’ll wait.”

Dammon lifts the blade off his anvil to study it. He smiles at the halfling as he passes her the sword.

“Give that a try. Come back if you need anything else.”

She moves off to the side to examine the blade, allowing Rolan to step up to the forge. He stands, arms crossed, his face flushed as he fixes Dammon with his bright yellow stare.

“Anything I can help you with, Rolan?” the blacksmith prompts.

Rolan sighs. He places his hands carefully on the edge of the anvil, glances again toward the halfling woman, and leans in toward Dammon.

“I need . . . Steel.”

Dammon breathes a good-natured chuckle.

“Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder toward the building. “I could use a break, anyway.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic reviews #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

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Peace Offering

Yandere Male Orc x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Dub-con/Non-con, smut, cock warming, orc, general yandere behavior, escape attempt, all a big misunderstanding) Word Count: 3.4k (I think I dropped the ball a bit on the smut scene, if it seems a bit disjointed that is because I wrote the last 1/3 of the fic over the course of 3-5 nights and I apologize, I still think it is good enough to post and the rest of the story makes up for it in my opinion, I hope you all enjoy.) For as long as you could remember the people of your medium sized town had been caught in a fierce and bloody feud with the woodland orcs that had come from the mountains and settled the forest across the river from your home. The bad blood between your peoples had gone on for so long that no one even remembered what had originally sparked the conflict. Almost all of your fellow townsfolk were content with their bloodlust and thirst for revenge, but not you. You had always been interested in other cultures and the orcs were no exception, you knew if you could meet with their leader you could broker a truce! Whenever you spoke out your wishes for peace and diplomacy most of your fellow townspeople just rolled their eyes at you, thinking you were hopeless. Orcs, to them, were ruthless barbarians that had to be put down. But you were not to be deterred! You would do your best to put an end to the attacks on one another and you’d learn about their culture in the process! You studied every piece of information available to you on orc customs and culture, it was mostly stuff you had already known, but it still gave you more confidence in your self appointed task. You spent weeks making the preparations for your diplomatic trek into orc territory. Everything had to be absolutely perfect. You painstakingly made the proper robe. Not only did the style need to be specific but the color had to be lavender, which was the color for cooperation according to your research. Finally the day came when you were ready, you set off in your attire, gaining many odd looks as you left the safety of your town. You crossed the bridge that lead from one side of the river to the other. Soon you came to the edge of the sprawling forest that the orcs called home. Despite your resolve you were still extremely nervous. Not just about meeting the orcs, but also of wild animals, and you did not even have a weapon on you as if the orcs caught you with one they might assume that you had malicious intent. With a deep breath to center yourself you entered the orc’s land. You called out loudly and clearly the orc term for peace, they spoke very little of your language and you had to make sure they knew your trespassing into their home was because you were on a mission of peace. You held your hands up in the universal way to show that you had no weapons and were no threat to them. You traveled for several minutes, seeing no signs of any orcs, but they saw you almost immediately upon entering their land. Nrybul, the orc leader, gasped when he saw you. A soft squishy little human walking right into his forest dawning the ceremonial courtship robes and calling out the orc term for “gift”. Your intent was abundantly clear to him. You were offering yourself, or being offered by your people, as a gift/mate to him for peace. He was intrigued and decided to watch you warily for a few minutes to determine if this was a new human ploy. When the orc man had decided that you were probably safe he and the guards he was on patrol with made themselves known to you. You almost fainted from fright as three large orcs, weapons in hand, slammed down from the trees and landed a mere few feet in front of you. They each had to be 7 feet tall. At least. One of the orcs approached you. He wore a full set of dark plate armor. Rough and rugged, it had clearly seen many battles. The visor of his helmet was up revealing his red eyes and two large, almost tusk like, bottom teeth. This could only be the infamous orc leader that instilled fear into humans on the battlefield. You could see why, that armor made his already intimidating size that much scarier. You were shaking and sweating nervously. The orc said something you could not understand, but it seemed neither angry nor hostile. He took you by the hand and gently pulled you close before picking you up bridal style. You yelped a bit in fear from so suddenly being literally swept off your feet. Nrybul could see you shake and sweating. Poor thing, humans were softer than orcs, but you were clearly far more fragile than most humans. It must have tired you out so much to make the long track here. It was no wonder to him that you were offering yourself or being offered as a peace tribute to a strong orc. You were so soft and delicate. Clearly no mere human could keep you safe. You were even shaky and exhausted from just a little walk. He was kind of angry that your fellow humans did not give you an escort, clearly you had a weak constitution. But no matter, you were with him now, and he would gladly take up the task of being your mate. You had no idea why their leader had decided to pick you up, but he did it very gently. Orcs were known for many things, but their tenderness was notably absent from that list, so you took it as a good sign. If they had been taking you as a prisoner you would probably be marched to their town at sword point so you forced yourself to try and relax in his hold. Though you were by no means able to speak fluent orc you managed to get across your name to Nrybul on the way to their home and you also managed to discern Nrybul’s name. Nrybul quite liked your name, as even your very name sounded soft and delicate in comparison to orc names. He said your name several times over the course of your journey, almost as if he was savoring it or trying to embed it in his brain. You of course took this as a positive sign you must have made a good impression! At long last you came within view of their town, strong wooden walls were erected all around the perimeter with a small guard tower near the main gate. The other two orcs that had patrolled with their leader left and returned to patrol. As Nrybul approached with you the guard on duty motioned for the gate to be opened and Nrybul entered. His choice to hold a human in this manner, and your attire, granted you two many quizzical looks, though no one said anything other than a curt nod or awkward greeting to their leader. Your own personal orc escort noticed you were no longer shaking or sweating so he figured you might like to walk a bit and stretch your legs. Nrybul put you down gently and allowed you to walk beside him. He took you with him into a well lit mine where a few human prisoners were supervised as they toiled for ore. You did not know their names but you recognized them as people from your town, they had been captured during a mission into orc territory and presumed dead. While Nrybul had a discussion with the orc guarding the humans you told the prisoners that you were trying to establish peace. They ignored you and laughed, assuming you would soon add to their ranks. They were stunned in silence when they were lead out of the orc settlement and set free. He released the prisoners! You had done it, this was a sure sign that your attempt at peace was solidified. You took a few steps intending to go with the released prisoners back home but Nrybul grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you back into town before the gate shut with a resounding thud. Nrybul knew you just wanted to escort your friends back home, but he really could not go with you and he absolutely would not have you going without him. What if you became fatigued again? You should never be without him attending to you if you are going to be outside the walls. And, preferably, that would not be a thing that happened too often. He really wanted you to get a meal and rest, as tomorrow you would need to officially consummate the union of yourselves and the peace between your people. You were extremely confused as Nrybul guided you gently into a large building that you could tell by the amazing smell inside was clearly a dining hall of some type. Maybe he wanted to share a meal with you to commemorate an end to hostilities? Or maybe this was more a part of making peace than it was a celebration of it, like a tradition that must be respected to make it official. Either way, you had no intention of offending him and ruining all of your hard work so you let him lead you into the building and sit you down at a table as he left for a few good minutes. When he returned he had removed his armor, his attire was sleaveless, showing off his large biceps. You could now see his long red hair. He was quite handsome and you blushed and looked down quickly, hoping he had not caught you staring at him. He set down a plate of food for each of you and then sat himself down a bit uncomfortably close to you. You did not notice because you were looking away in embarrassment, but Nrybul was smirking as he had certainly caught you checking out his muscles and looks in general. He was very pleased, he was glad his soon to be mate was so impressed with him. You started eating when you felt his left arm wrap around your waist and pull you a bit closer. You were unsure what this gesture meant to their kind, but it made you a bit nervous. But of course you could not offend him for fear of the consequences so you allowed him to keep you close while you just looked down and focused on continuing your meal of roast boar and vegetables. Nrybul thought you were just so cute, acting all shy as he pulled you close. It really endeared him to you how you had been so determined to offer yourself to him despite being as feeble as you were. And now you were all shy and blushing. You were such a perfect mate for him. When you finished your food you had expected to be allowed to leave. There was still enough daylight to make it home in time before dark. But Nrybul had a different idea of where your home was. Nrybul held your hand and guided you once more. He lead you towards what was clearly his personal house. This was where you thought something may be wrong, from all the reading you had done you knew orcs did not allow strangers into their homes. Could it have been possible that all of your gestures and behaviors had been indicative of a desire for courtship? He did seem to hold your hand a lot… But orc sex was rough and you were rather small, Nrybul was handsome, but you did not really intend to leave your friends, family, and home. You noticed that a hunting party was coming back into the town and the gates where wide open. Screw peace, you did not want to upheave your entire life for it! You slipped out of his loose hold on your hand and bolted across the town and through the gates. You left the trail so you would not be spotted so easily and headed in the direction that would take you home. You did not spare the second that it would take to look back, but you heard him call out your name in the distance. You ducked low and made your way slowly through the bushes and weeds and crept away, hoping that they would pass you by on the trail and not bother to search off of it. Or at least not until you were gone. Your heart was pounding, your legs were shaky, and you were sweating profusely both from the effort of getting away and from the anxiety that flooded you. You had not heard anything in a while so you started running as fast as your burning legs could carry you. It looked like you were actually going to escape, the bridge would be in view soon and from there it would not be a long way to your home. Suddenly though you were yanked back from behind, you screamed and kicked but Nrybul hardly noticed as he carefully put you over his shoulder and began the walk back to his town. You continued struggling for a minute or two, but soon gave up due to sheer exhaustion and the fact that he was clearly much stronger than you could ever hope to be. He was not even panting from the chase or from holding you. Nrybul had actually been thrilled you had ran, as it is an old orc tradition that one mate must chase the other and capture them before their union is consummated. Not many still practice it, but it made him more than happy that you were so invested in immersing yourself in his culture. In fact, because of your efforts he was now sure that he absolutely loved you. In truth though he was worried, you had demonstrated such a frail constitution earlier and were just so small and weak compared to a big orc man such as himself. He had actually been close to you the entire time, but he did not want to catch you too soon and make you feel like you were weak or unworthy of a proper chase. You had put so much effort into respecting his traditions, he did not need to show off and catch you immediately. Nrybul decided he would wait a bit and when you seemed too tired he would snatch you up and then once he had you he would take you back to his bed for a nice, deep, well deserved fucking. Soon enough you were already being carried back through the gates and into his town and shortly after you were entering his home. He wasted no time in rushing you to his bedroom and laying you stomach side down on his bed. You dreaded what would certainly be a very rough and traumatic sexual encounter with a large orc. That isn’t exactly what happened though. Nrybul had taken note of the fact that you were so delicate and would never risk hurting you. You were his little human mate, it would be dishonorable and cruel to hurt you. He gingerly removed your garments and appreciated your naked form from behind. He disrobed then traced his strong hands along your sides down to your ass which he then groped. Nrybul began massaging your ass cheeks. He figured the day had been very eventful for you and he was sure that you were eager to mate with him and make everything official, but he could tell you were very tense. The orc pulled some special oil, a secret orc recipe, from a drawer and coated his hands before applying some to your shoulders, back, ass, and legs. It smelled strongly of spice with a hint of citrus. He firmly massaged your shoulders and neck first. The massage was very relaxing, but you were still extremely nervous. He proceeded to massage down your body thoroughly. Leaving no inch of your back, butt, legs, or feet untouched by his loving ministrations. You realized that there must have been something in that oil he used because now you were very relaxed. At least physically. Despite your anxiety and fear your body remained at ease. Seeing that you were feeling better from the treatment he had provided Nrybul decided it was time to start readying your hole so he could mate with his beloved (Y/N). He applied more of the special oil to your entrance, liberally applying it until you were dripping. He took one of his large thumbs and kneaded it into your hole as carefully as he could until he could slide in a few fingers into you easily. The oil must have also enhanced sexual sensations because even just his fingers felt amazing inside of you. Nrybul massaged your insides until you were almost ready to come from his fingers alone, but before he did he stopped and lubed his fully erect cock. Earlier you had your head buried in a pillow but when he stopped using his fingers in you you looked over and saw his dick for the first time. It stood, almost proudly, at a bit over 10 inches. But you were so eager and stretched now from him fingering your hole that you were now a little less nervous and a little more eager to have it inside you. You would not have to wait long at all. Nrybul climbed on the bed with you so small and vulnerable below him. He lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance and prodded you before exceedingly slowly sliding into you. Despite the prior loosening it taking him fully still hurt a bit. Mercifully he kept the pace slow as he thrust in and out of your depths. Quickly the small twinge of pain was replaced by waves of pleasure. You heard Nrybul whispering your name gruffly over and over as he pumped into you. The orc was still going at a snail’s pace, afraid to hurt his tiny human, but it was agonizingly slow for you at this point. You moved yourself back against his thrusts until he got the message. Seeing how you were handling him so well and how eager you were for his dick he began plunging into you in earnest. He still was far gentler with you than he would be with an orc partner of course, just a bit harder and faster than he had been with you previously. You whined in an exhilarating mix of pain and pleasure as you felt your stomach bulge out a bit from his sheer size penetrating you fully. Disappointingly he pulled out, but it was only to flip you over on your back so he could see your face as he mated with you. Nrybul drove his cock back fully into you easily and continued at a steady pace, his large nuts smacking you loudly as you were fucked. He started speeding up a little more as he stroked a strand of your hair out of the way and pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then, as he thrust deeply and filled you thoroughly with copious amounts of warm orc cum, he slammed his lips roughly into yours and kissing you in a manner more in line with how you think orcs typically kiss. You came hard while he kissed you as his still throbbing cock continued pumping cum into you. Nrybul kept you on his cock as he laid down and repositioned the both of you to be laying down. He laid behind you, holding you closely. As he started to fall asleep with his stiff cock still firmly inside of you Nrybul could not be more content with the peace offering he had been given. He would have settled the costly feud between your town for much less than what he had received, but he would gladly accept and keep this perfect mate that had been offered to him. You tried to squirm free from his strong arms and cock, but he did not even notice your resistance, leaving you to pout and accept your place as his cock warmer as he began snoring peacefully behind you. The former prisoners would tell everyone you had them released and lasting peace would be cemented between your people, and all it took was accidentally giving yourself to a large orc warrior who wanted nothing more than to own you, baby you, keep you safe, and fuck you constantly.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere monster x reader #yandere orc #Male yandere x gender neutral reader #orc husband #yandere orc x gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #my oc #my oc Nrybul

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katiexpunk · 6 months

Text

Reporting for Duty | Pairing AirMarshal!Javier Peña & Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a flight attendant. You need to be fucked, and that much becomes all the more obvious when a hot, flirty Air Marshal named Javier shows up to fly your leg with you. That's it. That's the fic.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.2K Warnings: Airplanes, reference to a gun/badge/uniformed authority, pet names, unprotected p in v sex, pining/flirting, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), bathroom sex, airplane sex, size kink, creampie, references to the "bend and snap" from Legally Blonde lol, some fluff at the end. Also image above of the flight attendant is for graphic purposes only, there are no physical descriptions of reader apart from clothing. Authors Note: This is a purely self-indulgent fic that I wrote ON A PLANE. Literally, full brightness down on my screen, hoping to god people weren't reading this filth as they walked past me. And to the woman next to me catching glances at my screen, reading your little romance novel, this one is you. Also, the seat I assigned Javier was the seat I was in. As @sydneyinacoma put it ~ when life imitates art ~ ya know? Enjoy.x

Horny airplane sex below the cut.

There wasn’t always an Air Marshal on your flight, but when there was, you knew the routine like the back of your hand.

It was drilled into your head in training, to always know where the armed passengers are in the event of an emergency.

They would be brought down the gateway by a gate agent before the flight in order to show their badge to the crew and share their seat number.

They would introduce themselves, share the necessary information, and then get back off the plane to join the other passengers in the general boarding process.

After your last leg, while the plane is being cleaned, and there is still plenty of time before the next flight, you keep yourself busy in the front of the plane, waiting patiently to meet the Marshal you had heard from the pilot who would be joining on this leg.

You didn’t expect to lose your breath as the man stepped onto the plane.

He’s tall, tan, and well-built with dark brown hair dusting his forehead and a well-trimmed mustache. He dressed casually, unassuming like they were all supposed to be, but you nearly feel your knees buckle as you study his simple t-shirt, his tight jeans; and the black jacket that’s pulled taught over his shoulders.

He had to conceal his weapon, but God, you want to pull his jacket off to see where he’s stashed it. You suspect it might be in the waistband of his jeans on his back.

As your eyes travel down his form, your mouth goes dry and you stare – probably less than discreetly – at the front of his jeans.

Oh.

It was only when he walked past you that you realized you hadn’t blinked since he stepped onto the plane.

He went into the cockpit to meet with the pilots doing their pre-flight paperwork.

You shake your head slightly, taking yourself out of your daze. What was that?

You try to ignore the fluttery feelings in your stomach as you wait for him to come back out. Why are you so flustered, you think to yourself, hoping that you appear normal to the rest of the flight crew.

You spend the next few minutes anxious, chewing your lip, playing with your hair, attempting to look like you’re taking inventory of the soft drinks. But you’re not, you’re too busy internally chastising yourself for acting like an idiot, for not even greeting him, just eye fucking him.

You walk to the back of the plane, trying to conjure up more time to compose yourself before he comes out to make his additional rounds of introduction.

He finally comes out of the cockpit and starts to say hello to the rest of the crew, shaking hands and engaging in light conversation with your fellow attendants up ahead.

He walks down the aisle of the plane, his frame so broad he has to slightly angle his body to make himself fit. You feel your palms get sweaty as you watch him near closer.

You wipe your hand on your uniform as he extends his out to you.

“Javier Peña,” he says gruffly, giving you a firm handshake. His hands are so much bigger than yours and his dark eyes seem to bore right into you.

“I suspect this flight will be business as normal, but let me know if you see anything unusual.”

Besides a ridiculously hot Air Marshal?

You realize you’re still holding onto his hand, and you awkwardly drop it, cringing as you try to laugh it off.

“Oh! Of course! Yeah, sure – no problem! I will definitely let you know if someone catches my eye. Uh – something, I mean,” you say.

He looks at you curiously and you wonder if he can hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

“Right. Thank you,” he says, finishing the statement off with your name.

Hearing your name come out of his mouth nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Wait, how did you…?” you question, realizing you never gave him your name.

He raises a brow and glances down at your jacket before making eye contact. “It’s on your name tag.”

“Oh!” You flush as you look down at the small, golden rectangle pinned to her lapel that has your first name engraved clearly in black, uppercase lettering. Name tag. Obviously. “Right…”

He places both hands on his hips and looks at you with amusement. “Well, thanks again. I’ll be in 37D,” he says, giving you a little wink that you barely register before he’s turned around and heading back down the aisle.

You feel lightheaded as he moves on, the musky scent of his cologne lingers around you.

One of your co-workers walks up behind you and shakes her head with a big smile, obviously noticing your fluster from the interaction.

“Hey, don’t worry about him,” she says.

“What?” you respond, her voice snapping you out of your stupor.

“I’ve flown with this guy a few times – he can be a bit intense, but pretty fun once you get him to loosen up. No need to be nervous,” she says.

“Oh, um, I’m not…uh, thank you,” you say, not very convincingly.

You give her a weak smile and head up to the front of the plane to welcome the passengers beginning to file into their seats.

When you first started this job, the thought of anyone on board having a firearm did frighten you a bit, but you’ve been doing this job for a while now and it doesn’t bother you anymore.

X X X X

Everything moves like clockwork, but you feel antsy as the passengers board the plane. You put on your biggest smile and welcome them aboard like you normally do, but you’re waiting for Javier to board. You know it’s lame, but you really just want to see him again. Stupid considering you’ll have six hours in the air with him.

Of course, he would board when his section when called, just like everyone else, so he’ll be among the final few to file in.

You greet each passenger with the other flight attendants, a fake smile plastered on your face. Usually, you love your job and your smiles are normally genuine, except for when you have a difficult passenger, but you’re growing impatient.

It was rare to get eye candy like this on a flight.

Sometimes there was a guy who you and the other flight attendants would giggle about and argue about whose turn it was to go down the aisle, but never one like this.

Javier has such intense eyes and strong shoulders and you imagine he would so easily be able to lift you against a wall and –

“Hi!” you say a bit too eager as he finally comes on board. You feel your entire body go warm as you attempt to silence your intrusive thoughts.

“Enjoy your flight, sir,” you say.

You almost missed it.

The corner of his lips lifts up in a small smile before he turns his head with a quick “thanks” and walks down the aisle.

You didn’t realize, but you bit your lip as you watched him walk away. You could’ve watched that for hours, but instead, you go through your routine as the stragglers make their way onto the plane. You do your final crosschecks and close the plane doors.

You begin to run through the safety instructions. People never pay attention; whether it was their first flight or their hundredth, most people just glare at their devices as you and your colleagues walk them through the procedures, clicking the unattached seatbelt above their head or pretending to fake blow into the flotation vest.

People rarely ever pay attention, but you feel a pair of dark eyes trained on you as you continue your demonstrations.

He has flown hundreds, if not thousands, of times – that’s his job. He was probably just trying to blend in and make it look like he was paying attention.

You catch his gaze and he gives you another half-smile, and you nearly forget the last step of the safety demo.

X X X X

Time creeps by. By the time the plane takes off, reaches elevation, and the seatbelt lights are turned off, you feel like you want to jump out of your skin. God, what is wrong with you?

You hadn’t felt this level of frustration in a long time.

Maybe it was his eyes or the way he smiled at you.

Maybe it was the fact he stretched his arms above his head as you wrapped up the demonstration, revealing a little skin on his tummy, and you practically forgot your own name.

Maybe it was the fact that it was going to be a long flight, and you would have to go down the aisle multiple times.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t been properly fucked in well over six months, since your last, rather disappointing, hook-up on a layover.

It’s probably everything.

You look at the thin watch on your wrist, and it’s time to offer the first round of drinks to the passengers. You try to remain calm as you walk down the aisle, politely addressing everyone and handing them their requested drinks.

Almost to Javier’s seat, you catch his gaze and see him scanning the aircraft until they land on you.

Did his face just soften or are you just imagining things?

You feel your pulse quicken as you approach him.

You turn to the row across from him first, feeling his eyes on your backside as you hand them their sodas.

When you turn back to him, you freeze, forgetting how to form proper sentences.

“Hey,” he says, voice cool and nonchalant, like he didn’t just send off a chorus of butterflies inside you.

“Thirsty?”

What the fuck. That’s definitely not what you’re supposed to say, nor what you had intended to.

“I’m okay, thank you,” the older woman next to him in a pink sweater responds before she puts her earbuds back in and turns her attention to a game of Merge Mansion on her iPad.

You close her eyes in total humiliation before gathering the courage to look back down at him.

“And – and you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm.

His mouth quirks up in a smile. Fuck.

“Am I what, sweetheart?” he says, a flash darting across his eyes, not really questioning, just wanting to fluster you some more.

He knows. He must know. It was his literal job to be observant and you’re about as transparent as fucking cling wrap.

“Are you thirsty, sir?” you ask, again.

“Maybe. What do you recommend?” he asks.

You feel your heart pounding against your ribs.

“I like water,” you blurt.

Stupid, so fucking stupid. Who says water?

He tries to conceal a laugh and says, “Water would be great, thanks.” You curse yourself for what feels like the millionth time this flight as you pour him a blue plastic cup of lukewarm water. He watches you with an amused grin on his face.

You could hand him his drink and awkwardly walk away, or you could get even.

You choose the latter. After handing him the drink, you pull your hand back and accidentally knock over a cup on your drink cart.

“Oops, clumsy me,” you say, and he glances at the cup on the ground before bringing his gaze back up to your face.

You give him your best five-star customer service smile before turning around to pick it up. You hold onto the cart and lean over, slowly reaching toward the floor.

Your uniform was modest and consisted of the same top for each attendant, but women could choose to wear either pants or a skirt.

You’re glad you decided on the skirt.

As you grab for the cup, you look back, and the way Javier is openly staring at your ass makes you think he agrees with the skirt verdict.

His eyes flicker to yours, and he immediately looks away, a clear blush spreading across his face as he stares at his interlaced hands.

Oh, so he is embarrassed now? Good.

You rise with the cup in hand. You smile at him once more before moving on to the rows behind him.

He turns around. As you’re grabbing the next set of drinks off the cart, you glance out of the corner of your eye. There’s no doubt in your mind – Mr. Impossibly Hot Air Marshal is definitely checking you out.

You feel giddy; his job literally involves stealth, but he seems to forget that as you turn your head the slightest bit to meet his eye. He quickly faces forward as if he wasn’t just obviously caught.

You make your way back down the aisle, walking past his aisle seat, and you feel something brush against your calf.

You turn around to see Javier pulling his hand back to himself.

His eyes meet yours. You feel goosebumps erupt over your entire body.

You give him a shy smile, not your over-the-top flight attendant one, and he returns it in full.

A while later, as you bring the food cart through the aisle, you’re still nervous, but slightly less so knowing you’re messing with him too.

And fuck if it’s not exciting.

You keep your friendly demeanor up until you get to his row.

You look at the woman next to him, she’s switched from her iPad to some thick romance novel with a toned and chiseled man on the cover, and you smile before asking if she wants some pretzels or anything for purchase. The woman shakes her head and quickly buries her face back into her pages.

You then look at Javier and he glances up at you curiously.

“Hungry?” you ask, lowering your voice in a flirty tone, the question laced with suggestion. With the engines of the plane, you feel safe knowing that only he could hear you.

“Starving,” he says, dropping his hand so his fingertips brush your leg discreetly.

X X X X

You don’t have a ton of opportunities to make your way back to his seat, but you take every chance you get. You even found yourself disappointed when another attendant offered to go out to collect the trash.

You stand at the divider between first and economy class and grin as you see his face. He’s far away, but you can tell he’s disappointed too.

The hours pass and each time you go to the back of the plane, you both seem to get more daring.

You were suddenly clumsier than usual, dropping things by him. You make sure not to crouch as you pick them up, emulating your best “bend and snap” from Legally Blonde.

Javier’s hand reaches higher, even gently squeezing your thigh at one point.

He’d hit the call light, and ask for tiny things, another cup of water, a pen, headphones even, although he already has his own.

Anytime you handed him something, your fingers brushed.

You can’t take it anymore – you feel like you’re going to explode, the irony is not lost on you it’s a result of the Air Marshal.

You look out the window of the plane, and the sky is turning orange from the setting sun and full of fluffy clouds. Naughty thoughts plague your brain.

His hands are so big. When he squeezed your thigh, you wished his hands were under your skirt.

You think about how badly you just want to rip off his jacket and feel the muscles you know are hiding under the sleeves.

If it were just you two on the plane, you’re sure you would already have your skirt hiked up on your waist, grinding him for all he’s worth.

But you’re at work.

He’s at work.

And though you’re in public, the thought of him leaves you positively soaked.

Utterly annoyed and beyond sexually frustrated, you excuse yourself to the bathroom in the back of the plane, close to his seat.

You try to fix the problem yourself, making quick circles on your clit in a desperate attempt to cum, but you don’t make any progress. You quickly give up and sigh, leaning your head against the wall.

The tiny bathroom is not doing anything to help you get off, no matter how turned on you are.

Unless…

An idea floods your brain.

Fuck, you’d be so fired if you were caught. He’d be fired. If he was even interested, that is.

But it’s worth a shot.

You quickly clean yourself up, straighten yourself out in the mirror, and go back out.

X X X X

The flight only had another two hours or so left, and the overhead light would soon be turned off. You and your fellow attendants are set to bring out the last round of water.

You casually stroll down the aisle, smiling and nodding, thinking of nothing other than getting to Javier.

When you make it to his row, the woman next to him is asleep; the spine of her book is cracked open, the pages facing down in her lap, fully revealing the cover title Dangerous Connections.

Without asking, you pour him a cup of water. As you hand it to him, you tilt the cup a tiny bit, and a few drops of water land on his lap.

It was only a tiny spill, but you make sure to give your most convincing fake gasp.

“I am so sorry – here!” you say, handing him the cup before grabbing a few cocktail napkins, pressing them to his thigh, dangerously close to his cock.

Javier freezes.

“How clumsy of me,” you continue, pretending like you didn’t notice the way his breath hitched at your touch, how his stomach tightened.

“I hope I didn’t get you too wet,” you say, pulling back, fingers gently brushing against his now-growing bulge.

Water splashes on the floor as Javier clenches the flimsy plastic cup in his fist, his eyes dark as he gazes up to your face.

You grin and bend over to clean the bit of water on the floor, and when you look back at him, he has his eyes shut. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is undeniably shallow.

“I’m very sorry about that, sir,” you say, bending closer to him.

Javier opens his eyes and tries to say something, but he stays silent.

“If there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to ask,” you say, the statement once again laced with suggestion.

He shifts in his seat, and you don’t miss the way he pulls on his jeans, trying to adjust the thick denim to accommodate for the growing lack of space.

You stand up and pour another glass, taking the moment to let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t sure where all of your boldness was coming from, but you’re proud of yourself.

You like making him sweat.

You lean down to him once more and hand him the cup, speaking into his ear,

“This airline strives to make sure that all of your needs are satisfied, sir.”

You hear him audibly gulp, and you stand back up, smiling as you walk away.

X X X X

The sky is now pitch-black, the overhead lights are off, and most of the passengers are asleep.

Now or never.

You psych yourself up to go back to him, but you’re dying.

You’re lightheaded as you bring out the last trash bag, you wonder if you might need an oxygen mask.

You look up as you make your way down and even in the dim light, you can see his face – his eyes are dark and hungry, and they follow your every movement.

No, you definitely just need him.

Since most people are asleep, you’re able to move through the aisle much quicker, and soon enough you are once again by Javier, smiling as you hold open the trash bag.

The screen of the sleeping woman was lit up with the map showing the plane’s progress across the country, and the colors light up Javier’s face as he throws out the napkins, one by one, prolonging your presence.

“I really am sorry about earlier,” you say, not actually sorry, and he damn well knows it.

He doesn’t throw out the last napkin, he simply sticks it in his pocket.

“You’ve been a really good passenger,” you say, suddenly nervous again, realizing what you’re about to offer.

“Have I now?” He looks unsure, but questioning, like he can’t tell what you’re about to say.

“I was wondering if…” you trail off.

He was looking at you in that way and you feel your stomach flip.

“Never mind, I’m sorry, you’re probably busy, so I’ll just – ”

You close the bag and turn to leave, but Javier grabs your wrist, his grab on you gentle but firm.

He whispers your name. It’s the first time he’d said it since the flight started, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse quicken under his grip.

He doesn’t say anything else, just raises a single brow in a signal to go on.

You sigh and he lets go of your wrist.

You bite your lip and play with the bag in your hands. “Since I got – um – accidentally spilled water on you earlier and just because you’ve been a wonderful passenger this evening…”, you look at him and give him a smile. “I was wondering if you would let me personally introduce you to the mile-high club.”

His smile grows throughout your confession and before you let nerves get the better of you and decide to ditch the whole idea, you lean down and whisper, “Bathroom; three minutes.”

Without letting him respond, you turn on your heels and walk back to the front of the plane. You excuse yourself to the bathroom again and take a deep breath, opening the curtain, and walking straight to the back of the plane.

The people in the rows behind Javier were luckily all asleep, and you keep your eyes on the bathroom door, not daring to look at him as you pass.

You quickly open the door and slip inside, leaning against the door as it shuts.

You have three minutes, if not less by now.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and adjust your hair. You pace around the small space, chewing your lip in anticipation.

What do you think you’re even doing? This is a bad idea, he’s probably not going to even come.

But before your mind can convince you to back out, the door slides open.

Javier steps inside the bathroom and closes the door quickly behind him.

The rush of the engines seems especially loud in this bathroom, but you’re glad for that. He seems even larger in the small confines of the room, and you realize you’re holding your breath as he engages the lock behind him.

You lean against the sink and he crosses the small space to you. His arms bracket your body, his hands gripping the counter on both sides behind you. You trail your hands up his chest, finally feeling the thickness of the muscle under his clothing.

Your knees buckle as he grabs your waist and pulls himself against you, your faces inches apart for seconds before he finally closes the distance as you revel in his solid form.

He tastes so good and almost immediately, you shove your tongue into his mouth – you’re needy and frustrated and very tired of waiting.

The kiss is sloppy and desperate, but so hot as you tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning as he bites your lip, his mustache tickling the delicate skin on your face.

You feel something hard bump into your thigh and grin.

“Is that a gun in your pants?” you ask, panting into his mouth, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Gun,” he torts.

“…oh, you say.

“But this,” Javier says as he positions his hips and pushes his quickly stiffening erection against your thigh, “is all you.”

You practically squeal in excitement and crash your lips back to his, sighing as his hands trail down your waist and he grabs your ass in a tight squeeze.

He kisses down your jaw and nips at her earlobe, all hot breath and lust, the sensation causes you to scratch your nails against his scalp, holding onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’ve been half-hard this entire fucking flight,” he grows into your ear, grinding his hips against yours.

You feel your entire body heat up as you shove him against the opposite wall and slide your hands under his jacket, pushing the garment off his shoulders.

It crumples to the floor and you grip his now free biceps, grinning before kissing him again, hot and heavy.

“Then let me take care of that for you,” you say against his lips and you hear him groan.

You give him one last kiss before pulling away and slowly dropping to your knees in the cramped space.

“Wait,” he says.

You pause, your brow furrowed, wondering if he was going to ask you to stop.

He reaches by his side, unholsters his gun, and sets on the little ledge next to the sink.

You didn’t want to admit it, but knowing he is the only person with any real authority on this plane turns you on.

“Sorry, go on sweetheart,” he asserts.

You go back to the job at hand, popping open the button on his jeans before dragging the zipper down, moving rather slowly, enjoying how fidgety Javier is.

You grab the waistband of his boxers and jeans, pulling them down all together in one movement.

You could tell he was big when you felt him pressed up against you, but holy fuck.

Your thighs clench in anticipation, your panties growing more soaked by the second. You can’t wait anymore. You take his length in your hand and slowly move your hands up and down.

Javier nearly slams his head back into the wall and you see him bite his lip, stifling a groan.

You bring one hand down to cup his balls and the other teases up the side of his shaft, thumb ghosting over the red and weeping head.

A bead of precum forms at the tip, and you dart your tongue out to lick it.

Even over the roaring engines, you hear his sighs, and a rough “fuck, baby.”

You trace your tongue under the underside of his cock, before giving the tip a kiss.

Javier’s fists intertwine with your hair, slightly tugging on it as he reflexively thrusts forward. You firmly grip his hips and hold them in place as you take him into your mouth. His hands remain fisted in your hair as you bob up and down on his cock, relaxing your jaw to take him as far as you could, bringing your hands back down to do the rest.

You suck and suck, and suck, working him through moans, until you decide to pull back with a satisfying pop. Seeing him rock-hard, and the taste of his skin has you soaking for him. You need him to fuck you.

You stand up and Javier cups the back of your head, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

“God, you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Do you have a thing for flight attendants, Marshal Peña?” You tease, already fighting with the material of your skirt so you can pull it up around your waist.

You know your job was a turn-on for a lot of guys, and the humor of an air marshal having a kink for it wasn’t lost on you.

“Do you have a thing for Air Marshals, Ms. “oops sorry about that,” he says, grabbing your skirt and hiking it up, before pushing you up against the sink and hiking your thigh up his side.

You angle your hips and feel his fingers curl around the cotton material of your underwear, and he drags them off in one swoop.

For a quick second, you wish you’d worn something sexier, but clearly, it doesn’t matter because they’re ruined anyway.

Javier’s mouth is at your throat, and his large fingers make their way to your core, where you need him the most before he drags them through the slick coating of your folds, one eventually slipping inside your wet and waiting hole.

You bite into his shoulder to muffle your moan and grind against his digits as he works to add a second finger, skillfully stroking and curling them inside you.

He pulls his fingers out and you whine at the loss, but then he brings them to his mouth, sucking your slick from his fingers.

“I told you I was hungry,” he says, both hands now massaging your thighs. “Think you can help me with that?”

You whimper as you nod, the back of your head hitting the mirror as he kneels into position, trailing soft kisses up your inner thigh.

“Javier, fuck, please,” you beg.

He slides one hand up your body and you take a few of his fingers into your mouth, stifling your loud moans as he licks a trail up your center, his tongue darting in and out of you, lapping at you like you’re his final meal.

Your hands card through his hair as you suck on his fingers, pulling hard with your teeth as his tongue works against you, his nose ghosting your clit.

He removes his fingers from your mouth and returns the length of them back inside you, and moves his tongue up to your throbbing clit.

You’re so close, but before you can come, he pulls back, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins up at you.

You grip his shoulders, trying to pull him up, but Javier stands up and suddenly tucks his hands under your thighs, picks you up, and pushes you back against the first wall.

You were right – he had no problem lifting you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, panting as you feel the tip of his hard cock teasing your slick entrance.

“Oh God – Javi-”

The rest of his name is cut off as he lowers you onto his length and you nearly cry out from the stretch of him, but you nuzzle into his neck to keep quiet.

Holy shit; he feels better than you imagined as you slide down fully on his wet thickness, taking him in fully, moaning as he nips at your throat.

“Javi – Javier,” you moan into his ear, begging him to move, to just take you.

He starts slowly as he positions you in his arms, then picks up his pace, grunting as he begins to pound into you.

“Gonna fucking wreck you,” he says through a moan, “ugh, so fucking tight, Cariño.”

The pet name causes your walls to clench harder around him.

You are both already so close to the edge, your crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a sprint as he fucks you against the wall.

You bite his neck, whimpering into his ear, and beg for him to fuck you harder; faster.

He obeys, your skirt and jacket riding up against the grainy surface of the wall as you try to find something to hold on to – his hair or shoulders – but all you can focus on is how hot he feels, how well he fills you, and how this is undoubtedly the best fuck you’ve ever had.

“fuck – sh-should I pull out?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“N-no – I’m on-” you gasp as he tilts his hips, continuing to thrust into you at a new, perfect angle. “The pill,” you finish, bringing a hand down to your center to touch yourself. You can tell Javier is nearly there, just holding back for you to come first.

“I’m-” He pants, bouncing you against him to let you finish first.

“Javier,” you moan, your head falling back against the wall as waves of pleasure course through you, your vision going white, hooking your ankles behind his back as you ride him out. Your orgasm builds in waves and continues to wash over you as Javier buries himself within you. His groans are soon to follow, and he lets hot ropes of cum fill you up, still with a bruising grip on your thighs.

You breathe together, your chests falling and rising rapidly as you look into each other’s relaxed, sedated eyes.

“What the hell was that?” Javier asks, that ridiculously attractive smile on his face.

You shrug lazily against the wall and grin down at him. “I don’t know – I guess I have a thing for air marshals,” you say, and wink at him.

Javier laughs as he gently pulls out and then places you back on the floor, your legs still shaking; he places a hand on your hip to steady you.

“You know, you make it impossible for a guy to do his job around here,” Javier says, grabbing his jacket off the floor and tucking himself back into his jeans. “You weren’t exactly making things easy for me, either,” you smile as you start to collect toilet paper in order to clean up the cum dripping down your thighs.

“What was I supposed to do? Not follow you? I’m pretty sure that would make me the biggest idiot on the planet,” he says. You can’t help but to kiss him again. It’s soft, and the warmth of it extends down to your feet.

You’re both silent as you finish cleaning yourselves up. Once you look like you hadn’t just fucked each other's brains out in the airplane bathroom.

“Okay,” you say, turning back around from adjusting yourself in the mirror. “I think I should go out first, then you wait a few minutes, then come out after me.”

“Good idea,” he confirms.

You’re about to unlock the door when he calls out to you.

“Wait...”

You turn around and his lips are on yours, giving you one last lingering kiss before you leave.

You smile as you slip out the door.

X X X X

The cabin looks just as you left it, and anyone who was awake was turned away from you.

You take a deep breath and make your way down the aisle, worried someone might be able to read your mind.

You feel better as you peek through the curtains and watch Javier sneak out of the bathroom.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your throat and you sighed as you stepped away from the curtain.

X X X X

Soon after, the pilot’s voice comes over the speaker to announce your descent. The overhead light comes back on as people wake up slowly and you and your fellow attendants walk down the aisles, instructing people to put on their seatbelts or push their tray tables up.

You avoid going to the back because you don’t know what to say. Now that it was over – would you talk again? Would you even see each other again? Not likely.

Would he just pass you on the way out without even saying goodbye?

No, that didn’t seem like something he would do.

Maybe it was only meant to be a one-time thing, but you don’t want it to be. As you and the other attendants buckle into your jump seats for landing, you chew on your lip and dread the next 20 minutes.

The plane lands and taxis to the assigned gate. The seatbelt sign clicks off with a chime, and eager passengers fill the aisle and grab their luggage, slowly beginning to make their way off the plane.

Like with boarding, you are distracted, spending most of your time trying to look over people’s heads to find Javier’s, but you can’t see anything.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the line began to thin and the last few people stepped off the plane.

Javier was last.

The other attendants make their way to the back of the plane to begin picking up a few things, but you stay behind, awkwardly looking around as Javier comes up to you.

“Uh…” he begins.

“Um...”

You both grin at each other, not sure what to say.

“I want to say goodbye,” Javier says.

“Goodbye,” you say quietly, realizing how sad you feel.

To your surprise, he leans over, gives you a kiss on the cheek, and slides something into your palm.

He steps off the plane, and you watch him turn down the jet bridge and disappear.

You look down at your hand and see a wrinkled, folded napkin.

You smile as you remember he saved one.

You open the napkin and see a phone number written in blocky letters.

Under the number was a message.

See you at the club next time, Cariño.

END

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thewulf · 11 months

Text

Just Keep Swimming || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Hi there! If it's not too much trouble can I ask for a hangman x fem!reader kinda enemy to lover fic? There's a new squadron coming to top gun and there is some tension between the two squadron... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another long one! Little bit of made of squadron stuff to make the story flow/work better. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 9.4k +

“Dory!” Your head snapped up from the manual you were staring at, hopelessly lost in thought, “Are you paying attention, Lieutenant?” Your captain, Kasper, stepped forward eyeing you. He knew you were gone, lost in your head. You didn’t garner your callsign from just any Dory. Too often you’d be lost in thought almost ignoring anything your leadership was trying to teach you. It drove them mad. But it was just you. It helped that you were a damn good pilot. A really good pilot, exceptional even. Best in your squadron. You’d worked hard to be in that position. Putting in more flight hours than anybody around you almost combined. If you wanted to be the best, you had to beat the best. You always knew that.

“Yes Cap.” Nodding your head with the smallest smile spread across your lips you waited for his reaction.

Shaking his head as he stepped forward, he stopped in front of you table, “What did I say about calling me that? Care to share what I was just saying?” He asked glaring right at you. Although he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that to his lips. You just drew that reaction out of him.

“The enemy will have fighter jets far superior to ours.” Ignoring his first question you paused flashing him the grin you always did when you won the little battle you were having with him, “Which begs the question, what’s our military spending all that money with?” Leaning back in the seat you watched for his reaction intently. This is what you loved to do, flip it around and put the heat on him.

You’d earned a few snickers from your fellow pilots. You’d always been the firecracker of the group. Sort of a loose cannon. You’d argued that it was because you were the only female in the squadron. You had to be a little tougher. A little snarkier. It worked for you though. When you’d finally landed in your squadron, you’d gelled with almost everybody

“That’s a good question. Take it up with the admiral next time you see him.” He sighed knowing better than to challenge you. Even when it didn’t look like you were paying attention you were always listening. You always had to be on. It wasn’t an option for you. If you weren’t on that’d be an excuse to remove you from the group. You’d never be the reason.

You nodded your head taking in what he said, “You know Kasper, I just might. That’s a really good idea.” You grinned seeing the slightly horrified expression. You really just might. You hadn’t a problem taking anything up with your captain. Why not try a little higher?

“Alright, onto the news. We’ll be traveling to Miramar for the next month.” He broke the news so casually it earned confused glances from everybody in the classroom. Miramar meant Top Gun. What in the absolute hell were you being called back to Top Gun for?

“Top Gun?” Cairo, another pilot, asked after registering what he really meant.

His smirk grew to a smile as he remembered his time there. He seemed equally as thrilled as the guys as soon as they realized, “We’re all getting called back to Top Gun. Joining the Dagger Squadron on a mission in Russia.”

Leaning back in the seat you decided to simply listen. Listening as the men erupted in both happiness and confusion. A few with annoyed looks knowing they’d be far away from family for a while. You didn’t know how to feel. It’s probably something dangerous. The last mission you went on being very short of successful it was hard to comprehend going in and doing something even harder.

The Navy employs four separate groups of elite pilots with the best rising pilots as the elder pilots aged out and promoted up. The squadrons consisted of the Dagger Squad stationed at Top Gun in Miramar. Your squad, the Red Rippers out of Virginia. The Wolves down in Texas and the Ace Squad in Nevada.

You’d been stationed in Virginia for the last four years. With the Rippers Squad for the last three. It had been a while since your Squadron flew something incredibly dangerous. The last mission just consisted of you and Red. They didn’t have the semi-fear that you felt hearing that statement.

You’d listened as all the men around you turned from confusion to cheering in glee. Most of them craved the danger. Danger made you nervous. You had to hide your fears as you feigned a smile. Playing into the cheers.

“A joint training for four weeks followed by a week-long deployment. Captain Mitchell, Maverick, will have more details when we arrive.”

You’d never been on a joint mission between two squads. You’d heard it happen before, but it wasn’t very common. Whatever the hell the mission was must’ve been serious though. Joint trainings were serious business that the Navy spent lots of money on. You knew you had to impress. You needed to redeem yourself. Fly a successful mission. Whatever the hell it took.

“Ten pilots. Five wizzo’s. Will be dropping ten successive bombs over a large intelligence base off the coast of Russia. It’s gone nearly undetected for almost five years. They don’t have a clue we’re onto them though. One pilot to one wingman with a wizzo. Each pair will drop two long range laser guided bomb over a designated part of the facility. The wizzo will guide both bombs in. We’ll be practicing heavily on the drop. There’s hardly any security and we’re planning a Tomahawk attack on the runway.” Mav paused making sure each student was listening. He didn’t know your squadron at all, but he sure had everybody’s attention. You looked around counting everybody. Twenty pilots and ten weapons systems officers gave Mav their full attention.

“You’re a shoe-in.” Jax, one of your very best friends leaned over while poking your side. He never let you forget just how good you actually were.

You shook your head, “You don’t know that. You don’t know how good they are. Didn’t they just like blow up a Uranium plant last year? Living legends.”

He rolled his eyes, “You beat Kasper yesterday Y/N.” It wasn’t often that he was beat, but it always seemed to be at your hands. Still, he got you a majority of the time. For every ten times he beat you, you beat him once in the midst.

“The place must be huge if it needs ten bombs to level it.” Steering the conversation away from topic of you and back onto the mission you didn’t love bragging about yourself. The confidence you exuded was entirely manufactured for visuals

“Five million square feet. Two bombs per million square feet. Rapid succession within twenty seconds of each other. We can’t give them enough time for their defense to scramble. The good news is they’ve never had to worry about any attacks. So, they’ll be a little rusty. We’re going to be testing that. We’ll be dealing with SAM’s. Potentially drones. Recon’s doing more research on the base and its defenses now to confirm. Any questions?” Maverick continued bulldozing through the small side conversations that erupted at each pair at a table.

You nodded your head. You liked him. To the point and simple. He reminded you a lot of your captain, Kasper. He continued as he answered other aviator’s questions. You went into your own head imagining the mission. It didn’t sound overly complicated. Get in, get out and get home.

“Alright, planes up in fifteen.” Mav ordered bringing you right back to the present, “We’ll have Hangman against Dory first. Coyote and Berlin after.”

“Oh, this oughta be easy.” The blonde one laughed patting his partner’s shoulder.

His comment piqued your interest more than you wanted to admit. You didn’t really want to start a fight this early, but he was the one that spoke out first, “Why do you say that?” You turned around asking the man in row in front of you. You really should’ve just walked away. You were sure your first impression of the cocky guy was about to reign true, an utter asshole.

“Honey, you’re walking onto our base. No offense.” He smirked seeing the anger grow slightly on your face. He just loved getting a rise out of anybody that he possibly could, “But if you really have to know sweetheart. We’re the best of the best. Each one of us is better than each one of you.”

You hummed a little amused by the whole situation. This man was cockier than ever. Even finishing his comment with a dazzling smile, you were sure always worked for him. God, you’ve dealt with hundreds of these dickheads too many times before.

Taking a peek behind you, you noticed almost the entirely of your squadron paused turning to this guy. You didn’t like the expression on any of their faces. It seemed like Hangman had already pissed half his squadron off already too, “I wasn’t aware the air is magically different here. We don’t believe in home field advantage.” You laughed softly looking over at Jax who was nodding his head in agreement. The entirety of the squad had your back. Making sure you were good before they went to go get changed.

“We’ll see about that. In the air.” He paused eyeing you. Giving you a once over. Seemingly not used to getting talked back to. It made you smile. You loved taking people out of their comfort zone. It’s how you got to where you were.

You nodded beginning to walk out, “We sure will Hangman. Can’t wait to see you up there.” You’d noticed his last name was Seresin from his name plate. Connecting the dots, you put two and two together. This guy was the one with the second most live air kills, behind Maverick. It was no wonder he was such an arrogant asshole. You wondered how you’d fair in a dogfight had you been given the chance to try. All the missions you flew on were long range missile drops. You hardly encountered any air-to-air combat in your time.

You got the last word as you made a beeline towards the locker room changing for the training session. This was the worst. When your anxiety got the best of you. Nerves so deep it felt like you were choking on them. Luckily your thoughts were interrupted as you heard footsteps come from the entrance of the locker room, “Ignore him. He’s an asshole.” She walked closer holding her hand out, “Natasha, Phoenix.”

Taking it in yours you smiled, “We’ve both dealt with hundreds of him by now, I’m sure. What’s another?”

Her soft snicker could have been taken as innocent, “Hangman is… a very special breed. One of a kind I’m afraid.”

You nodded zipping the front of the suit all the way up. Checking your hair repositioned a few bobby pins making sure no hairs were out of place, “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind. Y/N. Dory.”

“I’ve heard good things.”

You smiled, “Likewise. So, what’s his deal?”

She shrugged, “We call him Bagman for a reason. He’ll leave you high and dry for a shot any day. He’ll play by the rules though. Watch your back.”

You nodded along adjusting your helmet to better fit, “Noted. Watch out for the dickhead.”

That earned a laugh from your fellow pilot, “To say the very least. Good luck out there and please, kick his sorry ass. He needs a good humbling.”

You grinned, “You got it.” Walking out of the locker room you felt that surge of confidence you always felt when you walked to your plane. Man did you love your job.

Being in the air was like nothing else. It came so naturally to you. You flew closely behind Kasper while Hangman flew closely behind Maverick.

“Alright. No going below the hard deck. Hard deck is 2000 feet. No other rules. Fight how you see fit.” Maverick’s voice broke you from the daydream you were in. No rules and a hard deck that low? This was about to be so much fun.

“Mav and I will be in the air to monitor.” Kasper spoke quickly after Mav wrapped it up. You nodded along, easy enough. You’d done these training exercises hundreds of times with the guys in your squad. How much harder could it be with Hangman really?

“What’s the punishment for Dory when she loses?” Hangman chided in before Mav could give you the green light. All you could do was laugh. This fella sure was cocky.

“250 sit-ups for the loser.” You wouldn’t dare let him get the last word in. Plus, you knew how fucking hard sit-ups were for the men in your squadron. They always started crying at 150 while you flew through them, they were cake for you. Just another day of training really.

“That’s a hell of a punishment.” Kasper spoke up. You knew he was shaking his head in that cockpit. He was always shaking his head with a smile on his face. You never ceased to surprise him.

“I like it.” Mav agreed with you, “250 sit-ups for the first person to get shot down. It’s going to be a dogfight. On my command. Go.”

You dove immediately. Your plan was to lose him low in the mountains. They gave you a 20 square mile range to fly in, which wasn’t a lot. The closer you got to the hard deck the harder it would be for him to detect you. You didn’t have time to pay attention to what he was doing. That might’ve been a mistake as he found you easily and was on your tail immediately. You heard your radar beeping as he tried to lock onto to you.

Well shit, he might’ve been better than you were planning to give him credit for. Eyes narrowing you pushed it a little faster to get into the mountains. It was so much easier to dodge lock when you were constantly moving side to side.

“Darling, this is too easy.” He nearly locked on to your jet before you dove even further. He followed relentlessly as you dodged and swerved through the canyons and valleys of the mountain.

“Where are you off too?” He questioned as you pushed him to his limits. It’s a known fact that shorter women pilots were able to take the g-forces far better than their much taller counterparts. But he was handling this well. You just had to hit all those turns just a little bit harder.

You couldn’t seem to shake him as he kept pace with you. It wasn’t easy and you were making it absolutely impossible to get a lock on which was beginning to piss him off. Usually, it only took him a few minutes to take someone out. You were much, much smarter than the guys in his unit. He should’ve known as the only person that could beat him was Natasha. The women had the brains, and he knew it. And you seemed to be even more strategic than Phoenix as you kept diving and rising just to throw him off even further.

And those brains paid off. You knew you couldn’t do this forever. Kasper and Mav would come in and shoot the both of you down. It wasn’t supposed to be a game of cat and mouse but a dogfight instead. Checking out the map you found a straightaway that would let you go up and over without risk of hitting the mountain side.

Hangman was giddy when he saw where you were heading. This was his only literal shot he could get on you. What he certainly didn’t expect was for you begin pulling some Maverick moves. Moves that not even Kasper dared to try. Moves that made even Hangman a little leery to try. Kasper always claimed he loved his life too much to pull the ‘shit that you do’ off.

You pulled up. Before Hangman could follow, he watched as your wings turned down almost stopping you in mid-air nearly halting your speed down to zero knots. Hangman darted right past you. ‘Gotcha’ you whispered to yourself as you hit the stick forward beginning to chase him down.

“Easy my ass.” You giggled speeding right back up hightailing it behind him.

“Fucking serious?” Hangman grumbled as he realized he was now being chased, the mouse. This simply didn’t happen to him. He tried to think fast but you were faster.

“As a damn heart attack, sweetheart.” You locked on before shooting him down.

“Fuck.” Hangman sighed hitting his head against the stick.

“Damn. Good work Dory. That’s a kill.” Maverick chimed back in, “Go ahead and land. Jake, you got 250. Don’t short them.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be counting.” You chimed in. Hearing Kasper’s hearty laugh. You knew you made him oh so proud. He defended you until his face was blue. You had to repay him by backing up your mouth that often ran a too far. You hadn’t let him down though. You backed it right on up.

“There’s really no need for that.” Hangman grumbled as you followed him back down to the runway. Both Mav and Kasper were staying up so long as they had fuel guiding the next groups up.

“There really is.” You countered knowing you were slowly driving him up a wall.

“Has anybody ever told you that you were annoying?” You could hear the frustration dripping through his responses. The laugh that followed was sincere.

“All the damn time. In fact, Jax told me that I was this morning.”

“Christ.” He sighed descending down to the landing strip. Coyote and Berlin were lined up ready to take off once the two of you landed.

“Did I just hear a good old Christian country boy take the lords name in vain?” You gasped knowing exactly how to press his buttons. He sure was special but you knew exactly what to do to keep that bark back inside him.

“I’m not responding anymore.” He grumbled. Somehow you knew he had a stupid little smile on his face. You had a big ass smile on your face as you hopped out of the cockpit of your jet once you landed.

Hangman stood by his jet holding his helmet looking pissed at himself. You nearly skipped over thrilled you got the upper hand so easily against him.

“Good job up there.” He grumbled as you approached.

“Is that a compliment?”

He nodded, “One and only.”

You grinned, “I’m honored. Thanks Jake. Now get to it.”

The two of you chatted causally back and forth. The front that he had in front of the other guys nearly vanishing as you started talking. The conversation surprisingly coming very easily between the two of you. Something you hardly expected at the beginning of the day. You wished you knew how rare of an occurrence this was.

“You guys coming to the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked as he finished up the 250. Naturally he did it with ease and didn’t even complain to you once. You had to admit that Phoenix was right. There was something so different about this man.

“That depends. Are we allowed?” You smirked sensing the tension between the two groups of nearly all men early on in the day. You and Natasha got along easily enough the boys should’ve been able to do the same. Naturally, the Dagger Squad wasn’t too thrilled about your groups appearance, especially on their base. There was bound to be undeniable tension. You thought they’d get over it. But no, they could never. They were like dogs marking their territory everywhere.

“You graduated from Top Gun, right?” Jake was full of Jokes. Every class in Top Gun seemed to make their way to the Hard Deck. It was right around the corner from the base, and it was easy going, The two things pilots needed.

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “We’ll be there.”

“I’ll buy you a beer.”

You shook your head while standing up, “No need.”

“Why? Got yourself a man back home?” He smirked wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t. I can pay for my own drinks. Nothing good happens when a guy buys you a drink.” You hummed beginning your walk back to the locker room. He followed like a little golden retriever puppy right behind you.

“I’d disagree with that.”

“You have your opinions, I have mine.” You shrugged trying your best to keep him behind you. Unlucky for you his stride was much longer than yours, catching up to you like it was nothing.

“Come on sweetheart. Just one?”

“Why are you so adamant Hangman?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You kicked my ass up there. I think that deserves a drink.” Was he trying to make the peace with you?

“Will it shut you up if I give in?” You didn’t really want to give in, but man was he persistent. Sure, he would’ve kept pestering you all night if you kept the game going.

“You know it darling.” He stopped in front of the door that led to the women’s locker room smirking right down at you.

“Then you can buy me exactly one drink.” You hated giving in but you had a feeling the man you’d simply never stop.

He nodded, “That’s what I like to hear.” He stepped aside heading to change just like you. You took your time putting your regular military khakis back on. Not entirely eager to go sit in a room full of hyped-up men ready to go fly. That was the one downside of going first. Waiting for everybody else to go.

You walked back into the classroom taking a seat at the empty desk. Jax must’ve been coming up since you didn’t see him in the room. You didn’t really feel like listening to the radio, no matter how entertaining.

Hangman’s loud voice pulled you out of the manual you were going through. You suppressed the eye roll when you heard him tell the other guys about how lucky you got up there and that he had you the next time, no problem.

Again, you didn’t want to approach him, but he really didn’t leave you with a choice. You couldn’t let him just sit there and run his mouth.

“Luck?” You laughed behind him as he talked to the guys around him, “That’s not what you said twenty minutes ago, Hangman. Might I repeat what you said? Something about me kicking your ass?”

He turned with wide eyes completely unaware you stood behind him, arms crossed over your chest with an unimpressed look. He kept underestimating you. He needed to knock that off or his reputation would be as good as gone by the time the mission rolled around.

“Yeah,” The one with a mustache behind him agreed with you, “Didn’t sound like much luck on the radio Hangman.” He tipped his head at you as if to thank you. It seemed as though Hangman was a touchy subject even within his own squadron.

He sighed knowing you got the better of him, “Luck and skill.”

“Or just skill. Not all of us need luck to be successful.” You were officially annoyed with this version of Jake. Not the guy who you were chatting with thirty minutes prior. That guy had a personality that was somewhat redeeming. This guy was insufferable.

The one behind him started laughing, “We all get beat Hangman. It’s okay to admit defeat.” He egged him on. You officially liked the dark-haired moustache man. He seemed to find immense enjoyment out of antagonizing the guy. Almost as much as you.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see who’s the real winner after the next few weeks.” He couldn’t seem to back down. Not willing to admit defeat just yet.

“We sure will. Can’t wait to find out.” You walked away right back to your seat waiting for the rest of the class to go through their training for the day. Luckily the latest version of the F-18 manual had come out giving you something to scour through as you waited.

Walking into the Hard Deck with Jax had never felt so good. It’d been far too long. The two of you made it over to where the rest of the two squadrons were mingling. The tensions were still a little too high for comfort. Hopefully the alcohol would lower everybody’s hostility not heighten it.

You took a seat next to Berlin and Bob. You’d taken a quick liking to the gentle naturedness of Bob. He sat behind you in class asking you a few questions as the two of you scoured through the new manuals. The only two not actively listening to the radio comms. Quickly you spotted Jake sitting at the bar with Javy. Javy had been one of the few Dagger Squad members to introduce themselves to you. The rest seemingly put off by the extra squad at their base.

Who you didn’t spot was your old partner in the skies, Red, sitting right next to them. He sat next to them in his civilian clothes being as discreet as possible. It’s not that he wanted to hide from you. He just didn’t know what to say to you. It was difficult. The two of you thought you were untouchable in the skies. Until you weren’t.

“Lieutenants.” Red held his beer up to Jake and Javy. You’d turned back to conversation with both Bob and Berlin. The two biggest nerds keeping you enthralled with whatever they kept going on about. It’s not like you understood the physics they kept going on about.

Jake gave him the up and down, unable to figure out who and the hell was talking to them, “Lieutenant?” He questioned back as if to ask who he was.

He nodded, “I once was. Had to retire. My wingman and I took a few nasty hits on our mission months ago. I got stabbed in the eye on my decent down. My wingman almost bled to death. Needless to say, you can’t fly with one eye. Call sign’s Red. Just took a job as a Chief Warrant Officer though.” He held his beer up to the pilots.

“Cheers.” Jake held his beer up. The three of them drinking in silence until Jake couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re wingman. Does he still fly?” He didn’t know why he was so curious but he was.

Jake missed the quick glance he threw you through the crowd, “She does.”

Jake took a long sip of his beer contemplating his next move. Did he really want to know? He did, “What happened then?”

Red sighed leaning his back against the barstool, “Recon didn’t do their job. We got ambushed right in the middle of the mission. It was supposed to be a few long-range bomb drops. No big deal. We’d done it hundreds of times before. This was different though…” He paused looking down like he had failed you, “There were so many SAM’s that we couldn’t shake. She went down defending me. I didn’t last much longer. Got stabbed in the eye by a tree, I think. I don’t really remember. Doctor said I was lucky that’s all that happened. My wingman though. She took the brunt of it. Found her lying in the snow shivering half conscious. When I rolled her over there was a 10-inch cut running right next to her spine. Doctor was amazed she even survived. Said she should’ve died from the blood loss. She got lucky the cut didn’t hit anything crucial. Doc said whatever it was that cut her missed her spine by inches. Miracle really. She made a full recovery in a few months. She’s flying right now.”

“Is she good?” Javy asked, curious as ever.

“Good?” Red laughed thinking of all the stunts you’d pulled over the years, “She’s the best damn pilot I’ve ever gotten the privilege to fly with. She put her life on the line for me and would do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do anything to go fly with her again. But when you lose an entire eye it’s hard to convince the Navy.” The three of them chuckled at his joke around the subject. He was trying to lighten the drawn down mood.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked.

He shook his head, “She wouldn’t want me to say. It’s between the two of us and her squad. She’s not looking for any points.”

That’s when Jake heard your laugh. He turned towards you with a warm smile on his face, “Got it.” Jake failed to turn back towards Red as he collected another beer from Penny for you, “I’m sorry. Not be rude but I told Dory I’d buy her a drink.”

Red laughed unironically and nodded, “Go on. I’m sure she needs it.” The three of them laughed as Jake walked over to you. Javy kept the conversation going with the retired Pilot who was returning as a CWO. He’d gotten fast tracked with the aviation department after the unfortunate incident. That’s why he was here after all. Kasper invited him out to help out with the mission and he jumped at the opportunity. He just hadn’t had the courage to tell you just yet.

Red simply smiled as he watched your face scrunch up as the pilot walked over to you. That was the same damn face you’d make at him for years as the two of you trained together. As much as the two of you got on each other’s nerves you loved the other harder. Red finished the glass that Penny poured him and headed out. Tomorrow. That’s when he’d tell you he was back.

To say the next few weeks were anything but challenging would be a vast understatement. You’d put a target right on your back after handing Hangman that first defeat. Not only was he, but everybody in his damn squadron had it out for you. They had to beat Dory. But you didn’t let them. You had to hand it to everybody though, they were making you the best pilot you could be. Having to be so technically sound and anticipating in the air wasn’t an easy task.

Jake managed to beat you a few times in all the trainings. But you still had the edge. Every two times you beat him, he beat you once. Natasha was right, Hangman was a very special kind of guy. He made you so irate one moment and then had you giggling like a middle school girl with a fiery crush the next.

Just as much as he drove you mad you did the exact same to Jake. He’d never met anybody like you. You were nothing like Natasha but every bit as confident, if not more than the girl. You never seemed to let any comment bring you down only drive you further. He knew what to say to get under your skin. You knew what to say to get under his.

It all hit a breaking point when you and Hangman were against each other again in another dogfight training. Mav and Kasper just seemed to love to pair the two of you up. Neither one of you wanted to give it up in this training session which led to Maverick and Kasper yelling at the both of you on comms to let up, both of you ignoring him, you almost running into Jake and narrowly avoiding the side of the mountain and Jake completely fucking the frame up of his F-18, bending it so it was unflyable as he tried to shoot you down.

To say Maverick gave you an earful was the understatement of the year. Kasper simply stood there and watched as he berated the both of you. Threatening Court Martial and all. Truly, you’d never been so frightened by a leader in the military. Kasper must have noticed the expression on your face as he simply shook his head once Maverick was done tearing into the side of both of you. You felt lucky you weren’t having to go see the Vice Admiral on base, Cyclone. Now that was a terrifying man.

Both you and Jake stood there in silence. Both too afraid to speak or move. You’d surely done it now. Your chances of getting picked for the mission were slim to none now. It was so quiet you were sure that was Jake’s heart you could hear hammering in his chest, or yours.

“That could’ve gone better.” You whispered. It almost sounded like you were yelling it was so quiet in the hanger. The rest of the class was surely in the classroom waiting on you. They definitely heard everything on the radio. You were sure one of them heard the nice ass chewing that just commenced.

“Fuck.” He ran his hands across his face through his hair. You watched as the emotions crossed his face and ended in anger, directed right at you, “What the fuck was that?”

Was he really blaming you? “What was what? We were training.”

“You wouldn’t stop.” He frowned.

“Neither would you!” You mimicked him with a frown right on your face.

“Because you wouldn’t!” He could never be wrong, could he? It’d always be your fucking fault. He was so exhausting. You didn’t know how much more of him you could realistically take. While the highs were very high with the man, the lows were just as low. It was a roller coaster ride you suddenly wanted off of.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now?” Eyes wide you walked away from him, quickly.

He followed quickly, “What is that you say? As a heart attack.”

You stopped so quickly he almost ran right into you, “Has anybody every told you how insufferable you are?”

The smirk that crossed his face almost made you want to slap him. That’d give him far too much satisfaction though, “All the time.”

Your face saddened just enough to get to him for a second, “I didn’t really think you were Hangman. I thought that was just a front. That’s so… disappointing.” Walking away slowly this time he didn’t dare follow. You hit him right where it hurt. You really thought he was an asshole. All that work he did put in was shattered in an instant. He had to admit he was being a bit of a dick.

Once he made it back to the classroom you were already sitting with Jax. Not daring to take a single look in his direction. Jake saw the comforting squeeze Jax gave you. He knew it was because of him.

Mav went on and on about how we weren’t clicking as a team. You had a sneaking suspicion it was because of the tension between you and Jake. Almost everybody seemed fine besides the two of you. You could only look at your notebook in shame, not daring to look towards the front like you always did.

“Alright. Go to lunch. I don’t want you reporting here after. Get to the Hard Deck. We’ll be playing some good old fashioned dogfight football to get you all gelling just a little bit better.” Mav walked out of the room followed by Kasper.

“The hell is dogfight football?” You asked Jax who looked just as confused as you were.

Bob so kindly explained as best he could. You just knew you were in for a hell of time. After changing and riding to the beach with Jax you both made it out to where most of the squadron already stood. You looked over to Phoenix and Halo noticing they were both in just sports bras and shorts. The t-shirt was already clinging to the sweat on your skin. You really should’ve thought this one through. You pulled on Jax giving him the help me face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once the two of you were out of ear shot.

“Please tell me you have a tank in your car? I’m too hot in this t-shirt.” Your expression must not have given off how panicked you felt.

He shrugged, “Take it off then?”

You sighed, “What about the big ass scar down my back Jax?”

Scrunching his face, he thought for a second before responding, “Just take it off. Nobody will even notice. It’s a bunch of jacked up dudes ready to go.”

“Really?” You looked at him skeptically.

“Yes, Y/N. You’re fine.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid the shirt off. Back facing the rest of the group. Jax would’ve been right if Jake wasn’t already staring right at you. His eyes crinkled as he took in the sight before him. An almost footlong scar racing down your back had his eyes nearly bugging. That pilot at the bar wasn’t lying. It was you? You should’ve died before Jake was ever going to meet you? That realization just wasn’t okay with him.

His heart started racing as he watched you walk back down the beach towards them with Jax. It hit him that he absolutely loved training with you. There was a world where you probably didn’t make it out of that crash alive and he had to do this without you. That also wasn’t okay with him.

The whole situation wasn’t sitting quite right with him. He was beginning to realize how much he enjoyed having you entangled in his life. How much he loved riling you up. How much he adored seeing you smile at his expense. He loved that smart ass mouth that always seemed to put him in his place. He cherished your presence. You.

He knew he had a whole lot of work to do to change your mind. He was going to have to do the most un-Hangman like things to win you back over. He was going to be himself. That’s when you smiled the most around him. He could do it.

He lined up opposite you on the line, “Hey pretty lady.” He smiled warmly. It turned into a frown when he saw you roll your eyes.

“Really, Hangman?” You spoke his call sign with so much disdain it made the comment sting that much worse.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, “For earlier, for now. For everything I’ve put you through.” He spoke quickly before the ball was snapped. You gave him a funny look before running off for the play. Was he being serious?

When you lined back up with the next play, he just looked at you, waiting for you to respond, “You’re not joking?”

“No! I’m sorry, I… I have no excuse.” He sighed almost forgetting you were in the middle of a game before you took off again. You were loving this game right now. These runs gave you a chance to think. Not that you’d come up with a good response. You weren’t very good when it came to this stuff. Talking about feelings.

“Okay.” You nodded gaining the courage to look up at him.

His concentration on you broke as he smiled hearing that response. It wasn’t great but it certainly wasn’t bad. You weren’t all out rejecting him at this point, “Okay. Yeah?” He nodded hoping to get something else out of you.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Sure.” You weren’t sure why any words were coming to your brain.

He laughed at that, “What’s your favorite color?” He asked changing the subject.

You raised an eyebrow before darting off. This time you caught the football scoring one for your team. Jax was right, nobody seemed to give a shit about that red scar. Even if they did, they did a good job hiding it. That or your squad mates threatened them. It certainly wasn’t out of the question.

Both you and Jake were tapped out. He sat next to you again, waiting patiently for your answers, “Sometimes it’s blue, the color of the sky on a bright sunny summer day blue. Sometimes it’s green. Like when you find that perfect Christmas tree on a cool winter day. And sometimes it’s orange. The orange of the sunset when you’re at the beach on a crisp fall night. There’s nothing like it really.” You weren’t lying. Your favorite color rotated just like the seasons seemed too.

“Wow. I was just going to say green.” He coolly scratched the back of his head suddenly feeling terribly less than. How could he keep up with you if that’s how you thought? He knew you were smart not downright brilliant.

You smiled looking up to him, “Nothing wrong with that. You can like green. There doesn’t need to be a reason.”

He shook his head, “And here you are comforting me.” He was at a loss for words as he studied you expression. Suddenly he didn’t give a shit if Bradley or Javy walked over and watched. He didn’t seem to care. It was about you. How could he have been so damn blind not to see it?

You shrugged, “It’s the truth, so.” Playing it off as nothing more you tuned your head towards the setting sun outlining your squad and the dagger squad playing football.

He smiled seeing you so coy. He’d found a weakness. Something he wasn’t planning to exploit, “Do you have any siblings?”

You nodded thinking of your past life. A life so innocent compared to this one, “I do. A younger brother. What about you?”

“A couple of sisters. A few older and one younger.”

You grinned, “Lucky you. Sisters are a blessing.”

“So are brothers.” He countered knowing it’d get a rise out of you.

Raising your eyebrows you continued, “I didn’t say they weren’t.”

He sighed knowing he had to let the ego drop, “They are a blessing. Each one of them. They’d be horrified at how I’ve been treating ya sweetheart.” The term of endearment tumbled out so easily it almost slipped by you.

You prayed your foundation was heavy enough to hide the blush. Having a sneaking suspicion, it wasn’t you continued talking trying to distract him, “If you could only eat one type of cuisine for the rest of your life what would it be?”

He grinned, “I was supposed to be asking you the questions. But to answer yours, it’d have to be Tex-mex. I could eat it all day every day.”

You nodded smiling wide not saying a word.

“What?” His smile was unlike one you’d seen on him. It seemed so genuine and sincere. Like he was smiling at you for this first time.

“That’s the most Texas answer you could’ve given me.” Your grin only widened seeing his smile turn to shock then guffaw.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I tell you something?” He asked once his laughter died down. Nodding your head, you watched the game unfold before you. Smiling as you saw Berlin tackle Jax out of the corner of your eye. The boys were having a hell of time.

“Shoot.”

“I find you fascinating.” He stopped before he went on. He knew a big confession was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t yet. Not until you trusted him. He’d started to burn the bridge and he was desperately trying to put that fire out before the bridge snapped.

Shaking your head slightly in disbelief you had a hard time believing him, “What?”

“Absolutely fascinating. And incredibly beautiful. One of the best pilots I’ve flown with. The most unafraid person I’ve worked with… I could go on…”

You stopped him, “Don’t. Thank you.” You smiled to yourself gleefully. How this man could make you feel such things in such a short amount of time.

“Anytime sweetheart.” His goofy grin was noticed by almost everybody playing in front of them. Jax wanted to slap it right off his face. What was more concerning was your face. You looked utterly taken by him. A look he’d quite literally never seen on it before. He wanted so desperately to disapprove but he knew it was bound to happen. The way one moment you complained and the next you had nothing but good things to say gave him whiplash.

Eyes moving up to the handsome man you had to wonder where all of this was coming from? Did your words actually mean something to him? You’d only known him for three fucking weeks, but it felt like three years at this rate. The intensity between the two of you was bubbling up and hitting a head, “Where’s all this coming from Jake?” You had to ask. As fun as it was to play twenty questions with the man you needed to know.

Did he want to tell you he knew? How much your words from earlier already affected him and seeing that fresh scar running down the right side of your spine pushed him over the edge of realization. He liked you. Maybe even more than liked you. He’d never admit that out loud though. He’d never met a woman so sure of herself. It all made sense now. Why he wanted to be around you. Why he found enjoyment poking fun at you. How it hurt him when you were hurt from Mav’s words and his. He realized he never wanted to be the cause of your anguish. Only the root of all your happiness.

“I met a pilot friend of yours at the bar a few weeks ago, Red.” He stated so causally.

Giving him a quizzical look, you had to wonder how in the hell had he known Red? Your guy. Your partner in the sky, “He didn’t tell you…” You paused not sure what the hell you wanted to say. It was never easy admitting when you went down. Nonetheless shouldn’t have survived. It was awkward to talk about. Like you weren’t good enough at your job.

Jake shook his head quickly, “He didn’t say who, he just told Javy and I what happened.”

“How did you know…” Again, it suddenly clicked. The fucking scar that dragged along your back. Nobody noticed it except for Jake, “The scar.” You stated continuing to look ahead letting out the breath you had been holding in.

“He didn’t realize we’d be playing football when he told us the story.” Jake laughed trying to ease your discomfort. He wouldn’t lie about it. That was no way.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, “I don’t blame him. I’m just glad he’s back. He was talking about retiring for good.” He wasn’t here. He was with Hondo training a few new guys all the ins and outs of the F-18.

“And you?” Jake asked.

You hadn’t really been asked that in the six months since the accident. It was assumed that once the Doctor said you’d make a full recovery you’d be right back on track. That’s what you did. Not even sure if you’d properly processed all the trauma you went through just months prior, “It wasn’t even a thought.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Jake smiled down at you even though you were so intent on staring straight ahead, “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Are you?” You hadn’t a clue where that came from. It’s not like Jake was the worst person you’d come across, but he certainly had shown you a side you weren’t particularly fond of. Even if he had been complimenting you moments before. Finding some courage, you looked back up at him curiously.

He took a second to come up with the right words, “I’m so happy you’re here. You’ve made me a better pilot. A better person. I know how I’ve come off to you and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. When I saw that scar along your back, just like Red was describing I realized a few things. There was a chance that you could’ve never had made it here. You could’ve died before I even got the chance to meet you. It made me realize just how important you are to me. I… I can only apologize for the way I’ve treated you before, but I promise you I won’t do it again.”

Placing your palms behind you in the sand you leaned back taking in every word. Jake was a whole lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He continued smiling knowing you weren’t terribly good at words when it came to stuff like this. The dichotomy between your personality, a spit fire in the sky yet too shy to say a word when it came to emotions, “Would you be willing to give me a second shot? I won’t disappoint you this time.”

You nodded, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice and I’ll find somebody to kick your ass.”

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, “I’ll let you kick it, how does that sound darling?”

Grinning and nodding it felt good to talk to the man you’ve been harboring a crush on, “That sounds amazing. You better not mess it up again or I’m coming for it.”

“You know, I completely believe you.”

“Good.” You giggled feeling all the tension finally leave your body. It felt so damn good letting it all out in front of him.

He sighed. Looking at him fully you could see there was something bothering him. Like he wanted to keep going but was holding back his tongue.

“Spit it out Jake.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but he was trying. Having battles in his head on how to best handle the situation.

“Are you okay? He said you should’ve died. That… that can’t be easy.”

Were you okay? You still loved being up in the air. You loved everything about flying. In fact, the accident made you only want to become a better one. But were you okay personally? You thought you were. You’d been to a couple of military required therapy sessions that didn’t do a whole lot for you.

“I think so. Haven’t really thought about it much.” Admitting that to him was hard. You were a sure person. Think wasn’t in your vernacular, you knew. But you didn’t know if you were okay. You thought you were, but could you really be?

“Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, “Not anymore. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t remember much. I blacked out.” You took a moment before continuing, “I ejected to late. It’s my own fault but they were going to kill him. I should’ve pulled the handle sooner. I don’t know what happened. I was too close to the ground…” You paused not really wanting to think too much into it, “I think the cockpit cut me on the way out. I was spinning out. I don’t remember. It just hurt.” You blinked back a few tears that flooded your eyes just thinking about it. You were not okay. You weren’t a crier in the first place, so this was odd for you. Sitting back up you used the back of your hand to wipe away the few that fell. Fuck.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze, “Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I just want you to know that I think you’re insanely strong for being able to fly the way you do after going through that. I don’t think I could.”

Wiping away the remaining tears you shook your head, “Bull. You’d be right back up in the air. You’re too much like me. Can’t let it go. Not yet anyway.”

The two of you were so immersed in the conversation both of you missed Mav calling you back into the huddle. Your eyes were trained on him as his eyes were on you. It was only Jax’s whistle that tore you from the gaze.

“Come on.” He gave you a hand once he stood up, “Better go join the group or we’ll get another ass chewing from Mav.”

Placing your hand in his felt so right, so natural, “I’d rather not go through that again.” He pulled you up. Walking back over he broke towards his squad as you nestled yourself in between Berlin and Jax.

“I don’t like the way he keeps looking at you Dory.” Jax spoke far too loudly. Berlin, Cairo, and a few others snickered knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Shut up Jax.” Giving him the look your turned your attention back towards Mav.

Berlin decided he wanted in on the conversation, “Were you not just complaining about him, oh I don’t know… yesterday?”

You punched his arm playfully, “Yeah, so?”

“It means we don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” Cairo chimed in from in front of you.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at them all skeptically, “You’re all so nosy.”

“And I don’t like the way you’re looking at him!” Jax gave you a wide-eyed look like you’d failed to tell him something.

“Shut up.” You pushed him.

“Oh? Does Y/N have a crush?” Berlin quipped earning the laughs of everyone around you both. Including some of the Dagger Squad.

Rolling your eyes, you resigned to flipping him off instead not daring to disagree.

“Well boys we lost her. She’s not fighting back.” Jax started cracking up.

“If it’s any consolation, he won’t shut up about you. Pretty sure he feels the same way.” Rooster leaned in smirking with that damn mustache on his face.

You put your hand over your face avoiding everybody’s gaze. The random burst of Oh’s made Jake turn towards the group you were by with that same genuine smile. You’d deal with all the teasing in the world if it meant you got to see that smile again.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Jake’s voice broke your stride as you turned towards him.

Jax continued walking not waiting up on you, “Be good Y/N.” He snickered as he walked back towards his car.

“Let me give you a ride back to base?” He was practically begging for some more time alone with you. No matter how short of a ride it was.

“Sure.” You followed him to his truck. Jake being the newfound gentleman he really was rushed over to open the door and close it for you.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but to smile up at him as he slid into his seat.

Nodding his head he turned the key, “Anytime sweetheart. Really. Anytime.”

He pulled out driving back to base, “I heard what your friends said earlier.”

“You did?” The blush that coated your cheeks was probably immaculate. He was so forward with everything it made you want to scream. He put you right on the spot with that one. You’d normally dance around the emotions rather than full on confront them.

“Mhmm. I might have a crush on you too.” He said so nonchalantly it made you double take.

“Really?” You were sure your voice was three octaves higher as your eyes widened in realization. How could he be so cool about it?

He nodded taking his eyes off the road for just a second to reassure you, “What’s not to love? Beautiful, kind, tough, smart as hell, the whole package.”

“Wow. Are you sure?” You didn’t know

He chuckled taking your hand in his, “I’m so positive about this. I know we’re stationed across the country, but we can figure it out. Moves can be made. Promotions can be had. I want to try this with you. If you’d let me?”

The smile that burst onto your face felt incredible, “Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” You answered before you could really process it. But your brain knew before you did because you were thrilled.

He squeezed your hand tight as he parked the truck. Seemingly the last group to make it back. Surely the rest of the squadron was waiting on the two of you, “Yeah?”

You nodded looking so happily up at him, “Yes! Yeah, who knows what’ll happen? Plus, you know I have a whole squadron ready to hunt you down if you fuck it up.”

“Trust me, I’m not messing this one up.”

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