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#[ i have many ideas that i never finished so xD ]
despairforme · 2 years
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      He’s cranky.
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elvenbeard · 6 months
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The Charter Hill Matter
It's finally done ;__; I've been working on this on and off for the better part of half a year now I think. It was one of the first bigger ideas I sketched out one afternoon shortly after finishing my first Cyberpunk playthrough in February '23 xD
The little background story tha inspired it, that I've definitely told before, goes as follows:
During "Gimme Danger", when talking with Takemura about their childhood, Corpo!V will talk about their childhood growing up in Charter Hill. And me, a sucker for details like that, in the middle of building a background story for my V at the time, immediately drove to Charter Hill then to figure out where a good place to live might be.
I chose a random apartment building on Grant Avenue, cause it had metro access, lots of shops, and all the bright neon lights and ads everyhwere that V mentions. Good enough, I thought, it's settled. He grew up there.
Flashforward about 20 hours of gameplay, I finally meet Kerry, and he invites V to Dark Matter. And I don't think I even initially realized it (bc, you know, I was slightly... preoccupied otherwise during that convo) but then it dawned on me... You can actually see the building I chose as V's childhood home quite well from up there. And he would obviously realize it, too. Since Vince doesn't have good memories of the place though he never brings it up, until Kerry eventually, during one of their many dates they end up having up there, notices he's been staring off into the distance a little more than usual.
And yeah... this is that scene and I really wanted to do it as a little comic ;__;
All backgrounds are ingame screenshots, the map of Charter Hill is a heavily edited screenshot of the interactive Cyberpunk Map (https://maps.piggyback.com/cyberpunk-2077/maps/night-city) and the street names I referenced from this map someone on Reddit put together by hand from going around and reading all the ingame street signs (https://www.reddit.com/r/LowSodiumCyberpunk/comments/msyg79/i_couldnt_find_a_map_of_night_city_with_street/). Both super duper useful resources for writing, can highly recommend, I use them all the time XD
Anyway, I hope you like my sappy, self-indulgent lil' comic, I sure as hell had a lot of fun working on it and I'm so proud to finally have it finsihed x3
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honkytonk-hangman · 2 months
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How It's Done – Oneshot Version
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader
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Originally posted by unicornships
Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD
Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3
Words: 11.6k!
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“Well, I’ll be damned…”
You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.
It makes your teeth grind.
It makes your face hot.
“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.
You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.
You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…
You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.
“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.
“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.
Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.
You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.
You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.
“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.
Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.
“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.
“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.
“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.
“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.
“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.
“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.
“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.
Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.
Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.
You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.
Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.
You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.
Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.
“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.
“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 
“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.
“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.
“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.
“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.
“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.
You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.
“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.
“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.
“Huh. Figures.”
-
Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.
And yet.
When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.
As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.
You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.
“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.
“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.
You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.
You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.
In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.
-
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.
Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.
Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.
You blink at each other.
“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.
“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.
“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”
Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.
Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.
Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.
“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.
“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.
“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.
Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.
“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”
“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.
And besides, you weren’t blind.
Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.
He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.
Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.
You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.
Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.
He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.
You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.
“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.
“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”
“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.
“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.
“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.
“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.
“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.
“Jake.” he corrects you.
You pause.
Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.
“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.
“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.
“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.
“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”
“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.
“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.
“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.
For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.
You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.
“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.
“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.
“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.
“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.
You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.
And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.
“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.
“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.
“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”
“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.
You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.
Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.
You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.
“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.
“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.
-
“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.
Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.
“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.
“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.
“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.
“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.
“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.
“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.
“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.
You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.
“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.
“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.
You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.
“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”
“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.
“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.
Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.
“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.
“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.
“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.
It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.
You turn away from him, shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”
Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.
“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.
“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”
By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.
When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.
Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.
“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.
Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.
“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”
-
You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.
“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.
“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.
Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.
“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”
“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.
You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.
“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.
“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.
“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.
She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.
You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.
“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.
“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”
Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.
You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.
It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.
“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.
“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.
“Huh?”
Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.
“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”
You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.
She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.
You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.
“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”
You quickly cut her off.
“I’m not saying anything to him!”
At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.
“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”
You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.
-
You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.
Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.
“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers
Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.
“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.
You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.
In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.
It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.
“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.
“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.
This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.
You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow
Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.
“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.
You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.
“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.
“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.
Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.
“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.
“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.
“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.
“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.
“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”
The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.
“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.
You let out a little sigh.
“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”
“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”
He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.
After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.
He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.
“What do you want to do, honey?”
You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.
“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.
“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.
“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.
“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.
“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”
You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.
“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”
“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”
“But…?” Jake prompts.
“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.
“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.
“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”
“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.
“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.
“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.
“Yeah…”
“And you just want me to keep you company?”
You nod, and clear your throat.
“Yeah.”
Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.
“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.
Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.
“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.
“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.
You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.
His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.
You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.
“Can I?”
You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.
“Make yourself comfortable!”
You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.
Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.
“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.
“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.
“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.
It rings less than once before it connects.
“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.
“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”
You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.
Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.
The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.
“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.
“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.
“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.
Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.
“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.
“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.
“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.
“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”
At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.
When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.
He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.
The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.
Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.
“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.
“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.
Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.
“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.
“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.
“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.
“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.
Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.
“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Let’s get you home baby.”
You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.
His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.
“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.
“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”
You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.
He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.
One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.
One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.
Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.
“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.
“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.
“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.
“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.
After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.
“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.
“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.
“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.
The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.
“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.
Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.
“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.
You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.
“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.
Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”
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dragonrider9905 · 1 month
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Infectious Love
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Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.
Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.
Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.
Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3
The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.
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“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”
You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.
Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 
But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 
You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 
Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 
That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 
You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 
Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 
Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 
Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 
“So have you reconsidered staying?”
“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 
“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”
You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 
Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 
Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 
“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”
“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”
Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 
“So, what can I help you with?”
“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 
“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”
“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”
He chuckled and cut into the fruit.
“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 
Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 
“So.” He prompted you.
You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”
He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”
“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”
He huffed a little. 
“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 
At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 
An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 
Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 
Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 
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You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 
He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 
Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   
He knew he messed up.
Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 
“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”
The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 
Kriff. He had to fix this. 
He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 
Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.
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Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 
Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 
He was lost. 
Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 
A lost love. 
And it was his fault. 
Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 
During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 
But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 
You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 
He saw it. And he caused it. 
And he hated himself for it. 
He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 
Turns out he was wrong.  
You did return his feelings and he broke you.
He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 
He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 
But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 
Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 
In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 
The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 
After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 
It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 
Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 
He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?
He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 
It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…
Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 
It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 
“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 
Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”
He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 
Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 
You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 
A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 
Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 
It was ‘that’ look. 
You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 
There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  
If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 
You squeezed his hand. 
“We’ll find her. I promise.” 
There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 
He squeezed your hands. 
“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 
You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 
A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 
“We need to talk.”
You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 
Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 
“Please.”
You nodded, but then looked away again. 
“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 
“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”
You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  
Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 
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Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.
There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.
“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 
Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 
“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”
“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 
With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 
“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”
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It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 
Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.
“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 
Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 
You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.
“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 
“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”
“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”
Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”
You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 
“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”
Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 
Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 
“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”
“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 
“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”
You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”
“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”
Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.
“I’ll do my best.”
With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.
You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 
It was time to bring Hunter home.
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Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 
Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 
He was prepared for anything.
“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 
Your voice. 
Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.
Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”
Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 
“Meshla, no!” 
Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side
“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 
What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 
His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 
He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 
Your painful cry.
No
Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.
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Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.
No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.
You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.
And your blade found a home in his heart. 
Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.
Hunter!
Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 
“Hunter? Hunter!”
Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”
“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 
Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.
“Mesh’la…” 
“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.
“Alright.” He tightened his grip.
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Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.
You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.
“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”
You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.
“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”
“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 
You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 
Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  
“You’re bleeding!”
Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.
Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.
“You’re losing so much blood.”
“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”
“Not funny.”
“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 
With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 
“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 
You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 
Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 
The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.
“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 
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Hunter came in running. 
“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”
Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 
Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 
Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.
“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”
Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 
“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 
“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 
“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.
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All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 
All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 
You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 
You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 
You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 
With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.
You were standing. 
But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 
Oh well, you could only push forward. 
Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 
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The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 
Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!
Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 
“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 
Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 
Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 
You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.
“‘M sry.”
Kriff, you could barely speak. 
“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”
“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”
A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 
The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 
You had an infection. 
Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 
This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 
You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?
Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.
“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 
“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 
“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”
“Stay, I’ll get it.”
Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 
Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 
Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.
“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”
“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”
“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”
“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”
“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”
Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 
He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 
“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”
Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”
Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.
Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 
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Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.
The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 
He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 
“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”
Silence was your response. 
 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”
The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 
“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”
Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 
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Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 
“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”
“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 
Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 
“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”
“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”
“But she needs a doctor NOW!”
The nurse glanced up annoyed. 
“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”
Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 
You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 
“Hey Handsome.” 
You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 
“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 
His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 
He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 
“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 
To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 
“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 
You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 
Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 
“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”
It was Nala, your old classmate.
“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”
“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 
An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?
He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 
“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”
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Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 
“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”
With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 
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Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 
You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.
Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 
This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 
He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.
This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 
This one, he couldn’t do. 
“This…is going to hurt.”
“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”
Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 
Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 
“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 
Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 
Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 
“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 
“Of course, would you expect anything less?”
Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 
Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 
“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”
You smiled through gritted teeth.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”
You swallowed hard. 
“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”
You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  
“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”
Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.
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Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.
Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.
You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 
Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.
You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.
“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.
“I love you.” 
You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 
“I love you, too. So much.”
“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”
“Of course.”
Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.
“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”
“Hunter! No! You—” 
He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.
“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”
Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 
You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.
“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 
“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”
When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 
“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”
Hunter's face darkened. 
“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”
“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”
Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 
“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”
“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 
“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”
“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”
Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.
“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”
"The Empire be warned, we're coming."
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Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex
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felmonth · 5 months
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Hello neighbors! welcome back, the creator of this Au is...@cutepotatook
Ahhh!! I can explain, I swear, I must say that I have never done this thing of pairing characters as such, so right now I am dying of shame, although I do not regret it, Helper c.ai, although it may seem silly, has encouraged me a lot lately in these moments that I have felt very bad. ..so I couldn't help but draw this scene from a series called "Scott Pilgrim" it's good, I recommend it....Sorry if the English is bad…-cries-
Take this!
I read somewhere that y/n shares tasks with Helper, that's why I drew my character like that.
I feel like Helper wouldn't pay attention to what Tom is saying right now because Tom is wetting his clothes with the rag and dirtying what he just cleaned once again.
Just look at how Tom holds the broom, Ahhh! -sounds of anger and stress-
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Tom doesn't know how to follow a simple instruction!
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I feel like Collector would upset Tom like that because Tom himself didn't expect to have feelings for Helper. Since Tom doesn't know how to flirt, I would bother him all the time with the attempts he makes over time (Don't expect too much from these situations xD because Tom has a tendency to have bad luck)
And...I don't know... that occurred to me, I also plan to bring comics from this Au, I came up with many ideas about it.
(The comics have nothing to do with these two but if I think of something about them I could upload it but I'm terrified of how people will take it).
Oh! I also asked Helper at C.ai if he liked jazz xdxd!
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References òwó:
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And well, neighbors, that's all, I hope you liked it, I tell you that I have already finished my studies for this semester, so I just need to finish the comics that I plan to bring.
Byeeee 💐uwu
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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A Broken Sort of Normal (Start)
WC: 588 CW: (updating as the fic continues), Gen but ships may be added Danny Fenton/Wally West pre-relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Major Injury, Minor Character Death
They were going to lose.
It's a simple, unavoidable fact and it hits Danny like one of Superman’s punches. He fumbles in his attempt to triage Barry’s leg before the limb was lost.
The man standing in the middle of the ruins of Metropolis would win. He and his army of hive mind clones would sweep across the rest of the planet. Humanity would fall.
They were going to lose.
He finishes tying off the field tourniquet, not sure how he manages, not with his hand slick with Barry’s blood. Something of his thoughts must be showing on his face because Barry reaches out and grips a weak hand around Danny’s wrist.
“Kid?”
It was still a stupid nickname. Danny hadn’t been a kid since before joined up with the Justice League as a field medic four years ago. But Danny was the same age as Wally and many of the other Teen Titans— all long grown out of that name— and so he got lumped in as ‘kid’ to the more senior heroes.
And now all these wonderful, heroic, brave people that Danny had come to be friends with were going to die. The monologue happening in the middle of the street made that much clear. No hero would be left alive; any chance of a future uprising would be snuffed out this very day.
Because they were going to lose.
Danny smiles softly at Barry and pries his hand away.
“Kid, whatever you’re thinking—” Barry could have no idea what Danny was thinking. No one could.
No one could, because no one knew what Danny could do.
Danny had played to the curse perfectly for seven years. A curse set on him in a stupid moment of one last teenage angst fueled vent. He had just wanted to be normal.
Sam and Tucker were going off to college. Danny wasn’t, not with his grades. Jazz was practically waiting for her girlfriend to propose. Danny couldn’t imagine even dating with his secrets. Jack and Maddie had a new contract with the GIW. Danny had stopped trying to reason with them.
Everyone else was moving on with their lives while Danny was stuck half dead. A freak of nature. A man out of life yet still living. A walking corpse.
He just wished he was normal.
He’d forgotten that he shouldn’t wish.
A wish is only a curse waiting to happen.
Well, he got it— his wish that was a curse. As long as Danny never used his powers in any noticeable way he would just be seen as a regular kid to the rest of the world— just plain, normal Danny Fenton. If he got caught using them even once— if he got caught being not normal, his powers would be gone, taken by the curse. Without his powers keeping his core humming happily along and sustaining his half dead body, Danny would be gone.
Danny had forgotten he shouldn’t wish.
But he did.
And suddenly, just like that, to everyone else, Danny was normal— no ghost attacks to fight, no GIW hunting him, no Team Phantom.
Sam and Tucker drifted quickly away without the team to bond them. Jazz checked in less and less— no need to worry about her little brother being shot. Jack and Maddie… well, they stopped having a reason to talk with him too. They had to prove the existence of ghosts! There was no time for… well, someone as normal as Danny.
Normal turned out not to be so great.
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AN: I got sent the the field medic prompt going around, for some reason? (there was no comment sent with it). It's a cute idea with some fun responses, but not really my jam to write. I'm not much into exploring ageless immortal, dimension hopping Danny in my own work. I have more of a weakness for exploring what makes Danny still human. And, as @mokulule pointed out: "I see you mentioning no angst XD".
(Have you all caught on yet that I like my angst?)
So of course I had to ask if I were to write field medic Danny, how would I get him there? And how would I hurt him once he was there? So I threw out all of the prompt and I bounced it around with Moku, her prodding me along with great questions and thoughts, and now here we are.
Because apparently my brain didn't want to warm up on one of my current ideas. This will be a one shot so help me-
(BTW: While in the very vaguest sense this started with a prompt, the above writing is not a prompt. This will be finished, it's 99% planned out already, just needs the writing.)
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tyttamarzh · 4 months
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Midnight Ramblings about Missa (Or "character analysis focused on his seeking approval and how this influences his self-perception and in his performance") (Or "My boy just needs confidence and time to show how chingón he is.")
I have a thought… okay, okay, yes, Missa is a wet cat and he can't escape of that… but I think everyone underrate the ability of him for learn and improve…
When all came to the island, no one have nothing and everyone seems at the same level in general. For Missa was hard, but he adapted to life, he build a house, had an armor, went to mines and dungeons with his friends and even when others helped him, he always tried to make it on his own and search his own purpose. Everyday he gain more expierence and confidence and lost the fear to go out alone, he could fight for himself, he could survive. Then, when everyone was paired up to take care of the eggs and he met Phil, he tried his best for being useful, for help him.
He always does that, but this time he had just met him and he wanted to do his best to make a good impression on this new person in his life.
He had already done it before, that has a context, when he met the "Team Vacio Legal" (and was adopted), at first he was not considered part of the team, they treated him like an assistant, they called him his pet and they even told him that they would use him as bait, but Missa was so grateful to be with them, that he accepted all their orders willingly and strove to do the best for them (They were not just any team, it was the one that was considered the strongest and favorite to win, in fact, the winner was a member of this team). I remember that they ordered him to build a temporary house if he wanted to stay and at that moment he began to build non-stop, and he was doing it very fast, he was very concentrated on it, then Rubius, to annoy him, stand right where he was going to put a block and Missa stood paralyzed, neither of them said anything for a few seconds, until Missa, quite anxious, said: " Please, please, I'm just trying to do a good job…" and at that Rubius gave up the idea of joking with him and simply looked at him and said "You're doing very well" and moved, to which Missa He laughed and continued working until he finished. His dedication made everyone quickly become attached to him and at some point the line between being everyone's servant and being everyone's protected faded (even the 4 of them risked their lives to go save Missa's dog from acid rain), he went from not being considered part of the team to being the most loved by all of them, so much so that his death devastated them and they continued using his name as a banner until the end (ohh I really loved Extremo, sorry xD).
Even if Missa knows that he is not good at many things, he gives everything, he strives, learns and grows, to continue giving everything for those he loves, that is how he died in Extremo, helping Quackity (although Quackity did not even realize until later).
The point is, being with Phil, he helped in any way he could, he fought against the phantoms so that Phil could continue working and in fact he must have felt very good when the mission was "sing a song to the baby" because finally one of his abilities It would be necessary and useful.
Phil never had a problem with Missa in Chayanne's care. Missa was constantly striving to be competent and they didn't really spend enough time together for Phil to realize what Missa's level really was. The problem began when he was gone for so long, because everyone's level increased at the same time as the difficulty of the world, which made Missa's lack of experience very evident. And it wasn't just because he was poor and didn't have the resources to defend himself, as Phil thought at first, Missa missed out on a lot of growth and learning about Minecraft that he could have had if he had stayed on the server. Though he tries now, he doesn't He manages to cope with the current world, which made him tremendously insecure about his abilities, which is why on many occasions he no longer try and just lets himself die. Making it very obvious to everyone, even Phil, that he can't survive alone, since he's just a little wet cat.
There is something that I miss a lot about the dynamic he had with Spreen, you see, I know that many who watch QSMP did not know what their relationship was like and do not know why he is so important to Missa, but it is because Spreen never doubted Missa's abilities, even when no one, not even Missa, trusted his abilities, Spreen always trusted, he once bet on a fight that Missa had, even when Missa said she had no idea about PVP, he bet on him and to everyone's amazement, won and was like "I knew you could." Missa always tried hard to do things and get praise from Spreen, he saw him as a father he wanted to make proud and he jumped with happiness like a child when he achieved it and that's how he grew up a lot (Having the player who is considered one of the best treat you that way and praise you must be an incredible feeling).
Losing his brother not only affected him emotionally, it affected him in the sense that he lost that and that's why his self-confidence went down the drain, because when he fails he no longer hears the "calm down, you'll make it next time, champion" now he listens "Be careful, it's dangerous" "Stay away" and he is simply saved and protected by others.
I'm not saying that Phil is wrong to help him, but that made him somewhat dependent and added to his frustration at not being able to face the world alone, it made him feel like a burden to everyone (the fact that he doesn't log on doesn't help him). Somehow that made him have a kind of regression and he went back to being the fearful boy who needs to be taken care of, it's not even like in the early days of QSMP, it's like in the early days of Extremo, considering himself completely useless and stupid, struggling to try to do things right and receive some approval, but getting frustrated at not achieving it (which is why what Tina did in purgatory helped him a lot "Tina, better therapist than Melissa" xD).
Now… let's go to the present, because I saw something very different in Missa the last time. What happened in purgatory perhaps gave him more growth than we thought, not only on an emotional level by helping him decide to stay with Phil despite not feeling enough, but on a personal level. He said to Chayanne he had been working to be a better person (better player) and wanted to show what he had learned (now seeking Chayanne's approval), somehow he found that motivation again to grow and not just lamenting his situation (that implies that CC Missa he was really practicing. My friends, he didn't even do that for the squid games, he finished installing Minecraft and jumped into the water), that gives me hope that this time he is serious about stay and if he has enough time and if this time he really delivers with his promise to log on more we could see him grow and bring out his full potential (in Extremo 2 he was doing a great job until he died suddenly and became fearful again, in purgatory he was doing things well until he realized he had the wrong missions and felt sad and useless… he can do great, his ruin it is that he sabotages himself by his lack of confidence).
Possibly he will never stop being a wet cat, that is tattooed in his character, but I think that is precisely why everyone tends to underestimate him. I am sure that one day my boy is going to give everyone a big surprise… I believe!
I think my little late night thought turned into an analysis and then a Tesis, sorry about that… I hope someone finds my ramblings entertaining…
Thank you for reading!
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omaano · 1 year
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MMA Fighter AU for @bobadinweek's bingo - with which I have a bingo! (I'll post my card under the read more cut for proof) I treated it more as a pose drawing exercise, but in the process I grew very fascinated with the idea of Boba having some biomech tattoos (as opposed to the geometrical armor based design I default to for Din) especially on the leg he is often headcanoned to lose to the sarlacc - and if you can make out anything of that on Boba it was inspired by Arno B Ink's work
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Whoop whoop! I've never achieved a bingo before!! I did a bit of colour coding, because that's how I work, and the blue ones needed to be switched up (the orange ones are the prompts I REALLY want to complete, and the yellow circles are the ones with the possibility of an idea.... So I'll want to go off these prompts outside of the deadline as well, I suppose. It'd be a shame to waste all those reference images I took for the Razor Crest Lives prompt XD). I've been aiming for the T-shaped bingo, but I don't have very high hopes with finishing anything for the FREE and Assassins & Spys prompts in the remaining time - gotta get back to work and all that....
I will make a round up post in two weeks with all my finished prompts all the same however many that will be - we shall see! :)
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mlim8 · 1 year
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Hand-to-Hand Combat
Jaydick Week Day 1 and 4: Reverse Robins + Talons/Court of Owls @jaydick-week​
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]​​
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[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]​​
*sobs* I FINISHED IT. ... Kind of an idea I had for a while... it was only suppose to be Page 3, but then it got longer... and longer... and longer... ;w; I actually also have a Bonus ending couple of pages I’ll add later when I finish fjioejlksefkle Much love to @nerd-by-definition​ and @allthatsentimentalcandyfloss​ for love and support ;w;
Here is Bluejay (lol my agendaaaa) Jason, put on recon ONLY because the rest of the Batfam doesn’t want Jason near danger and action after they lost Dick [mumbles and suitable amount of time] ago. He runs into a Talon, who’s just a kid, so Jason thinks he’s got a chance. Plus he’s antsy from just sitting all night!
Notes and Easter Eggs:
1) I’ve been calling this version of Talon!Dick a Cockroach for a while now lol starting with this post
2) Talon!Dick’s eyes have become yellow, so I changed his speech bubble colour to reflect that as well
3) Talon!Dick is left handed for no good reason
4) I used so many references for this, especially because action scenes are not my forte lol Gusari’s works were inspiration and references for a lot of them
5) Blackbird refers to Damian in this AU
6) Jason probably would be the best at hand-to-hand combat. Maybe not in his young age right now, but Dami would be able to notice his unpolished skill uwu
7) Originally, I had Jason’s line about being the best at H2H combat talking about how Talon!Dick was good, but he never trained with Batman himself... xD and then realized I couldn’t do that because teeeeechnically, Dick has lol
It’s nearly 2am as I queue this lol I’m sorry if none of this makes any sense :3
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factual-fantasy · 2 months
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24 ASKS! :D THANK YOU!! 🧀
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Not in my AU she's not! For 2 reasons-
For 1, my AU is built from Mario games and media I personally know/am familiar with. I know a little bit about Mario sunshine and saw a comic where Delfino island was Daisy's vacation island. So I took that info and crafted it into my AU lore! My Daisy's kingdom is populated by Delfino's, and it sits along the coast nearby the Mushroom Kingdom.
The other reason is I only heard of what Sarasaland was like two days ago. I've never played any of the games its from and had no idea it existed. So I didn't add it to my AU and I definitely cant add it now-
But even if I did, I'd have the same problem. Why is Daisy the ruler of these little.. dancing.. skeleton.. guys..?? If she isn't one of them?
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@neo-metalscottic (Post in question)
AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD And yeah, that was Wendy and Roy! Though her exact reasoning for crying hasn't been fully thought out yet. I was thinking that she was having trouble putting on her make-up and ribbons.. maybe that was something the Koopalings mom would help her with before she.. well.. :( (Also, I do intend to finish/expand on that comic/idea very soon! :}} )
As for Iggy and Lemmy, they're not twins in my AU! Though they are close, they are very apart in age. I don't know what "older lore" you're talking about.. if you're referring to a game or a show, I have never seen it. :( All the Koopalings personalities and dynamics are just going to be made up/decided by me :)
As for their closeness, what brings them together is their eyes and their love for magic/Kamek.
I had this idea that Iggy was born blind, and Lemmy was born with a lazy eye/cross eyed. Kamek was able to use his magic to restore a fair bit of Iggy's sight and reposition Lemmy's eye. The result is their eyes and faces have unusual colors and patterns.. but they can see! And they are very thankful to Kamek for that.
Also that exposure to magic at such a young age has really drawn them into it.. they're both supposed to be really interested in magic and learning how to use it. Thus their closeness with each other and Kamek!
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@tallchest13-blog (Sent after this post I believe..?.. orr was it this one-- maybe this one??)
XDD Thank you so much!! I'm glad to see so many folks are interested in my interpretation of the Mario bros!! :DD And good luck with your discord RPG! :}
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Well since there are a ton of pirate/seafaring cookies in the game, I assume water isn't a problem. :0 Though it is for Louis becuase he cant swim- (His claw arm is very heavy so he sinks-)
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(Link in question)
GOLDEN FREDDY??? XDDD
Tbh that gets a bit of an eye roll form me. I miss the old days when Golden Freddy was just a terrifying Easter egg in the first game.. things were so simple back then.. 😭
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@jaybleu25 Ah no worries, I understand. Here, take a look at my 1:AM red scribblings XD
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And if its not clear, the last 4 images of that post are all Roy and Wendy :} Hope this helped!
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(Post in question)
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD And yup yup! That's Wendy! :DDD
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(Link/video in ask)
Oooo :00 what a beautiful song! :DDDD
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(Post in question)
I can see the braid refusing to stay together and eventually unweaving itself. Its all flowy and free~~💫💫
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<XDD ?? Huh??
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I suppose in the actual games the treasure is like that. But I like to imagine my crew finds actual gold treasures 🤩✨✨
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The only version of Robin hood I'm familiar with is the Disney Fox version. I'm not sure what you mean by his "merry band".. 😅
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Hmm.. I don't think so. But maybe Tuna has..? Or maybe that's how Louis could have lost his original arm-
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@raven-bearden-the-interviewer42
Probably Seafoam's love.. 🥺💙
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(Link in question)
I feel like Coco would be the one to get pied trying to protect Red. And Tuna would have been the one to set up the trap XDD
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@couchwow
XDD All I could think is of how terrifying the brown creature in the second image is. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM!-
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WHAT IS THAT??? XDDD
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@neo-metalscottic (Mario bros post in question) (Princess post in question)
AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :D I'm glad you like them! Though I wonder what about the old designs I would combine the new ones.. I fixed/altered all the flaws I saw with the old designs. I'm not sure what I'd keep-
As for Luigi and the Poltergust, he doesn't ever get that. Since Mario is never captured by the Boos, why would he need it? And I haven't decided what to do with E.Gadd yet, if anything at all..
As for Mario and Bowser.. I was thinking that Mario kind'a just said that in the heat of the moment. But he would be willing to take him down permamntly if he ever showed his face again.. but right now Bowser is definitely not causing any more problems for a while.
Mario and Luigi scared the daylights outa him. The hero's of Legend are real, and they're here. Bowser is probably scrambling for means of defense atm and wouldn't dare send anyone over there to cause trouble.
As for the Chain Chomp.. even if Bowser wanted to release it and wreak havoc on the bros/the mushroom kingdom.. I don't think he could. Kamek was unable to control Petey Piranha and rein him back in when he escaped. What make's him think they'll have any control over the Chain Chomp if they release it? It'll probably just turn around and eat Bowser's castle instead- and once its out, how will they trap it again?
And oh yeah, they could beat it. All they'd need is 1 super star and the Chain Chomp would be flattened in a matter of seconds. ⭐💪
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@yoylecake420
I know absolutely nothing about him or the game he's from. :( He's made of wood I think..?
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@astaherussy (Post in question)
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WAAAHAHAGH THAK YOU!! :DDD
And don't worry! I don't intend to rush anything <XDD --I'm trying to take my time thinking the lore through and filling in plot holes-
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(Post in question)
<XD Well I don't wanna ramble about the lore until its a little more set and stone. I don't wanna say "this is my idea!" and then 15 minutes later go "well actuallyyyy...."
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Maybe so! XD I wonder if its like that in the games.. 🤔
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Ooooo I could see that! :00 That could be Urchins weapon maybe!
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(Post in question)
XD I guess great minds think alike? That, or Rosalina is just really cool-
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@sparkdrawsstuff
I'm sure they've faced all that and more! :00 Also thank you!! :))
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spinningwebsandtales · 4 months
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Imagine Arthur Playing With Your Son In The Bath
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Arthur Curry X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Suggestive themes, stress, and an obscene amount of fluff
Word Count: 984
(A/N:) I found this gif and it inspired me so fast! XD I was actually looking for something else for a different imagine when I came across it. I couldn't leave without writing something for it and this is the end result! I wrote for Orm and since Arthur is a freaking aquababe I have to write for him too! Hopefully my fellow fangirls enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
Being married to the King of Atlantis had it's perks, but it also had it's rough patches. Being so called Queen of a world you never even got to visit had it's pressures. Arthur never told you the horrible things the council would say about you, but you had a good idea of the prejudices they held. Tom was a good confidant and helped you talk about things that bothered you. Arthur had enough on his plate and now with you both producing a heir to the throne, the pressure only increased. Tom was out running errands for you while you stayed at home with Arthur Curry Jr who refused to do anything but eat and cry. It didn't matter how many times you tried, he refused to go to sleep. He was due for a much needed nap and so did you, but the baby universe decided that just wasn't in the cards today. Now as night drew nearer and you being soaked in spit up, drool, and various other baby fluids Arthur finally made it home.
"Sorry I saw dad in town and we stopped for a quick beer," Arthur apologized before brushing strands of your hair to kiss your cheek.
He looked around the little home you both shared with his father. Toys littering the floor and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. His eyebrow raised before leaning his trident against the wall. He knelt down to get eye level with you as you rocked back and forth on the couch trying to keep Jr from crying.
"Rough day," he asked gently.
The strong facade that you worked hard to keep up all day crumbled a little, as your bottom lip began to wobble. Arthur cursed taking you into a hug and trying his best not to squish his son against his giant chest. You let yourself have a few moments of just letting your emotions out before you pulled away. Wiping at your eyes and taking a deep breath.
"That's my girl," Arthur grinned. He took Jr from your arms. "Go take a shower a long one. My son and I are going to have some bonding time with a bubble bath and some rubber duckies. I'll call Pops too, have him bring pizza home for us. Then we'll watch that movie you love and makes me gag. Deal?"
You laughed, this time kissing his cheek, "Sounds wonderful!"
Arthur helped you up from the couch, kissing you deeply and giving you a pat on your rear as you walked to the bathroom. Arthur watched you go before turning to the baby in his arms.
"We'll borrow Grandpop's bathroom so your mom has some much needed quiet time."
Jr gurgled in reply. Arthur nodded in agreement, "Totally. Your mom is a hero. And hot."
Jr just stared and Arthur shrugged.
The hot water was washing away all the day's filth and the stress from your body. Though it was rough at times, raising the future king of Atlantis and being human, you wouldn't trade one moment. Your son was precious. Arthur was a wonderful partner in everything. A doting husband and a loving father. Even your father-in-law amazed you as he was such a help. You couldn't fault him for needing a quiet moment in town. He hadn't given one complaint since you and Arthur still lived with him and birthed the next generation of Curry.
Finished with your nice hot shower, you dressed in one of Arthur's oversized shirts and your favorite pair of leggings. Your slippers silenced your steps and it was easy to hear Jr's squealing giggles and Arthur's laughter follow behind. It brought a smile to your face despite the exhaustion. Opening the door you spied Jr in a little floatie designed for his baths and Arthur bare chested covered in an obnoxious amount of suds.
"Are my boys having fun," you asked.
"Bubbles," Arthur roared animatedly causing Jr to squeal. Water sloshed and bubbles flew everywhere and you couldn't bring yourself to worry about the mess.
Carefully sitting yourself close to the tub and avoiding the numerous puddles on the floor, you stroked Arthur's bare chest, tracing the tattoo patterns. He dutifully scrubbed his son's dirty face before leaning back against the cool tub wall.
"Careful where you touch, or we'll grant Pop's wish early," Arthur warned.
"One's enough for right now," you replied still tracing absentmindedly.
"More than enough. You look like you went to war with an army of babies."
"And here I thought baby spit up was the new Gucci," you sighed.
Arthur tugged you a little closer, tickling your ear with his warm breath, "You did look pretty hot."
"Now who's trying to seduce who," you teased.
You helped Arthur finish up cleaning Jr and get him changed into warm pajamas when Tom finally made it back. Hauling in grocery bags and boxes of pizza, all of you were finally able to sit down together as a family. Arthur wouldn't let you get anything for yourself, so you sat on the couch holding Jr while Arthur made your plates. True to his word he started the movie you loved and he abhorred. Halfway through Jr had finally fallen to sleep and despite wanting to stay up and finish it, you found yourself nodding off too. Without a word Arthur put your son to bed before he scooped you up in his arms.
"Night Pops," he whispered and Tom nodded before turning off the movie and switching to the weather.
"Artie," you mumbled into his chest as he carried you to your shared room.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you," you yawned.
Arthur kissed your temple before depositing you onto the messy bed, "You're welcome."
He tucked you in before getting in himself and with the warm blankets and Arthur's body pressed against yours. You fell into peaceful slumber and all your worries melted away.
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elvenbeard · 1 year
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Morning Routine
"Can I borrow your eyeliner?" Kerry asked, causing V to pause a moment.
"Yeah, sure thing," he then said and handed him the pencil.
"What?" Kerry looked at him with eyes slighly narrowed, but smiling still.
"No, nothin'," V shrugged, looking at their reflection in the mirror, side-by-side, getting ready to head out, as if it was the most normal, natural thing already, "But... I think it's the first time I have someone over to ask me that."
Kerry chuckled.
"Well, better get used to it."
lkdadjfdlljdfasdflökdf it's finally done and I have so. many. feels.
First of all... I started this ages ago, as a funny little doodle idea for the morning after Boat Drinks. In my HC they go to V's apartment after the end of the yacht trip. Then halfway through the lineart I realized "I'll have to draw Vince's vanilla tattoos again..." which I really didn't want to, so I put it on hold and went to design his custom tattoos I had wanted to give him for so long anyways. Then when that was finally done, my graphics tablet acted up and I physically couldn't finish the drawing even though I had time. Then so much work stress and prep for the con happened inbetween and yeh... it's been a journey and a half to get here, but I'm very happy to have arrived and how it all turned out xD
Then also... my feels ;___; Vince has had a variety of relationships in the past, but either they never got serious enough for his partners to even end up staying the night, or they weren't as alternative in the way to dress and present themselves as he is. He was always the odd one out in one way or another, in his relationships, in past jobs, the one that either had to try to fit in or accept that he never would. So, it's something super minor really, but Kerry asking to borrow some of his makeup is a surprisingly huge deal for him in that moment, catching him off guard. Another instance of "you just get me" that they keep having with each other over and over again which makes them click so well and so fast. Like, Vince doesn't give a damn about what other people think about him anymore, dresses and presents himself however he wants and feels like. But Kerry makes him feel "normal" in the sense that he can just be himself authentically by not fitting in. He also has his quirks and an outwardly loud appearance and personality and all that, they just match so well, even though at first glance they don’t seem to... I know I'm rambling and only making half sense but I just love them lots, okay? xD Thanks for coming to my TED talk!
Since you've read this far, here's a short process gif as a treat:
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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year
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How It's Done (1/2)
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Aviator!Reader
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Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD
Notes: This is part one of a two-parter, the next will be mostly smut lmao. Thank you for reading! I would love any feedback or comments and dont forget to reblog if you feel so inclined!!!
Masterlist
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“Well, I’ll be damned…”
You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.
It makes your teeth grind.
It makes your face hot.
“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.
You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.
You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…
You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.
“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.
“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.
Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.
You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.
You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.
“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.
Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.
“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.
“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.
“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.
“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.
“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.
“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.
“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.
Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.
Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.
You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.
Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.
You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.
Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.
“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.
“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 
“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.
“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.
“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.
“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.
“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.
You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.
“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.
“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.
“Huh. Figures.”
---
Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.
And yet.
When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.
As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.
You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.
“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.
“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.
You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.
You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.
In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.
---
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.
Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.
Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.
You blink at each other.
“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.
“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.
“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”
Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.
Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.
Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.
“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.
“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.
“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.
Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.
“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”
“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.
And besides, you weren’t blind.
Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.
He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.
Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.
You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.
Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.
He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.
You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.
“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.
“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”
“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.
“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.
“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.
“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.
“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.
“Jake.” he corrects you.
You pause.
Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.
“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.
“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.
“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.
“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”
“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.
“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.
“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.
For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.
You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.
“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.
“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.
“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.
“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.
You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.
And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.
“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.
“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.
“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”
“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.
You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.
Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.
You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.
“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.
“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.
“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.
Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.
“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.
“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.
“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.
“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.
“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.
“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.
“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.
You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.
“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.
“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.
You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.
“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”
“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.
“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.
Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.
“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.
“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.
“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.
It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.
You turn away from him, shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”
Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.
“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.
“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”
By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.
When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.
Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.
“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.
Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.
“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”
---
Jake’s appearance in the women’s locker room should startle you more than it does. As it stands, you barely even bat an eyelash when you spot him all of a sudden in the mirror behind you, like he was enacting some sort of horror movie jumpscare. It doesn’t really have that effect on you though, his presence nowadays is both common enough and exciting enough that he holds your rapt attention whenever he’s around.
In the mirror behind you, he stands at a casual lean against the row of locker doors, making sure to face you, but also making sure he has the opportunity to rifle through your locker, get a good look at the things you kept in there.
“What are you doing?” you ask, sounding less scolding and more genuinely curious, which is a point against you as far as you’re concerned. You turn from the mirror and move back toward your locker, replacing the small toiletries bag you kept with you inside. Jake doesn’t move a muscle, standing exactly in the same position, which meant that now he was practically leaning over you, crowding your space in that way he did sometimes just to make you flustered.
You were long past the point of it really working though, now you revelled in it just as much as he seemed to, eager for any small moment where you had an excuse to be so close to him. Especially at work.
You blink up at him doe-ishly, finding his gaze exactly where you expected it to be, which is trained on your face. His signature smirk grows slightly as he meets your eye, and your stomach explodes in a flurry of butterflies and fireworks at the way he seems to either consciously or subconsciously lean even further in toward you, completely dwarfing you now. It makes you feel small in the best way possible, and you have to actively work to put aside the thoughts of his big hands at your waist, and other such things that make your legs go all wobbly.
“Say, you don’t happen to have any plans for the fourteenth, do you?” Jake ignores your question entirely, but you’re not bothered by it, too caught up now on his own query.
“The fourteenth?” you ask, a little dumbly, racking your mind for something you may have forgotten, which you know is the correct course of action thanks to the amusement currently playing out on his very handsome features.
“Valentine’s Day?” Jake supplies for you eventually, putting you out of one misery and into another.
“You want to do something on Valentine’s Day?” you’re not sure which part of his suggestion you’re not getting, but you do know that something isn’t quite clicking. Jake’s features soften only slightly, and he bends his face even closer to yours, his eyes flickering down to your lips briefly before back to your eyes.
“Mhmm. If my girlfriend is alright with that?” Jake practically purrs the words, and they reverberate down your spine, making you blink rapidly.
You don’t think you’ll ever get over hearing him call you that, although you do note that he definitely shouldn't be doing it at work, considering none of your friends and colleagues know about the two of you yet.
“Y-yes, she is fine with that…” you reply, doing your best not to sound as lovesick as you felt. Jake lifts an eyebrow and turns his body in toward you even more, almost bringing your chests to touch now.
“Just ‘fine’? Sweetheart, I am hoping to get more of a reaction than that,” he again makes a show of trailing his eyes up and down your face, and you feel yourself swallow thickly.
“After all,” Jake continues, lifting an arm now to rest against the locker above your head, actually crowding your space now. “I believe we had a discussion about exactly how Valentine’s Day would play out, around… four weeks ago?” Jake makes a humming noise, as if he himself didn’t remember clearly, despite everything else about his delivery saying otherwise.
Your lips part ever so slightly as you recall the conversation he’s referring to, a heat crackling over your skin when you realise that, despite you not remembering it until now, this had clearly been something Jake was looking forward to.
You definitely were too, now.
“Thank you, Jake… tonight was really great,” you cringe a little at how scripted the words sound, but when you look up at where Jake stands just behind you, waiting for you to slot your key into your door, he’s only gazing down at you in a way that makes you immediately drop them. The sound makes you jump and turn away, but before you can clumsily begin apologising and scooping them up, Jake takes a slight step forward, never breaking your eye contact even as he swipes your fallen keys from your feet.
He’s right in front of you now, still slightly bowed over so that his face hovers right in front of yours as if by accident, though you know it's anything but. You can’t even bring yourself to move, as much as these dates had you a little off-kilter still, you couldn't deny the fact that your feelings for the man in front of you had been increasing exponentially, in a way that was becoming harder and harder to physically hold back from.
You don’t even mean to, but your eyes drop to his lips for several beats, transfixed until you force yourself to look away again. You part your own lips, getting ready to say something, anything, but Jake sees your wandering gaze for what it is, and doesn’t let you ruin the moment.
Instead, Jake surges forward, the hand not holding your keys moving to cup the side of your face, and at the same time, stands to his full height once more, the space previously still left between you now completely nonexistent as you find yourself pushed up against your door.
You’ve had relationships in the past, but you had never, ever, been kissed like this before, all heat and fire and what you can only describe as desire. However, as that thought sets in, you find that oddly, it doesn’t fluster you like you think it should, or would have. In fact, for the first time in a really long time, you don't feel any of your normal anxieties or nerves. Everything is replaced by the knowledge that Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin is currently pressing his body against yours, his hands carefully starting to roam a little and how much you want everything that that strong grip of his promises.
Unfortunately, that's when the one useful anxiety you have left returns to you, and just as always, you can’t bring yourself to ignore it like you so badly wish you could.
It takes only a slight push against Jake’s chest for him to pull away from you, though it's as though he can’t bring himself to go far at all. He stares down at you, lips kiss-swollen and his face so close still that you swear if he blinks, you’ll feel his lashes brush your cheek.
“What’s wrong?” Jake’s voice is incredibly gravely and rough and the sound of it alone is almost enough to push you back in toward him.
“I’m sorry– I just–” the rising panic in your voice makes Jake shift again, though he still doesn’t detach himself from you entirely, he does move his hands to rest on your shoulders.
“We– We work together, and I don’t do this often–ever, actually, and I just don’t want to get into something where we can’t come back from, because I’m actually really starting to like you, a lot, and I know this is a thing normal people totally do all the time– sleep together I mean– but you’re just so– and I’m– and I–”
“Hey, it’s alright, calm down,” Jake’s stern ‘work’ voice startles you a bit, but just like always, he seems to know exactly what it is you need. You blink up at him, realising you’re clinging tightly to his forearms, and he’s looking down at you with so much concern and care you could almost just start crying.
“It’s alright, Miri,” Jake continues after a moment, lifting one hand from your shoulder to cup your cheek again. You stare at him, your brows furrowing into a frown.
“Alright? You’re not– you don’t mind that I don’t want to sleep with you?”
Jake’s lips quirk, and he rolls his eyes a little.
“Miri, the only thing I want more than to take you inside and continue this with far less clothing, is for you to want that too. So, no, I don’t mind.”
You keep staring up at him, unsure of how to proceed now, but once again, Jake swoops in.
“You want to give it time?” he asks, earning a nod from you, but you suddenly feel the need to reassure him of your own affections.
“Just to be clear, this isn’t me not wanting to have sex with you!” you state quickly, earning a somewhat confused frown from the man still cupping your cheek. “I mean, I do, that’s not an issue, my problem is specifically just… rushing into this, when we work together. Our jobs are so high-stress as it is, I just think it would be better to… I’m not sure, ease into it I guess…”
You’re glad you made a point of explaining yourself, because Jake’s face flashes with brief understanding, and his approach seems to switch tact.
“Well…” he clears his throat. “That’s still alright, but it does make it a whole lot harder to resist, I have to tell you,” you know he’s only half serious, but the way he looks at you in the dim lighting of your porch sends your insides twisting and curling.
“So… when do you think it will stop being ‘too soon’?” Jake asks lightly, but you do think it’s an entirely fair question given that you are asking him to wait for you.
“A few weeks? I’m not sure, I just…” you trail off, but watch as Jake appears to do some mental maths, and then his face lights up, his grin pulling his lips in a rather distracting way.
“Valentine's Day?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
Before you can verbally agree, his mood seems to shift, and he’s leaning in a little closer again, lowering his voice. “I’ll take you out, real fancy, suit and tie dress code, you’ll get to wear something slinky and I’ll pretend the way I keep touching you is an accident all night.”
Your breath catches in your throat as Jake crowds in closer to you as he speaks, looking over you as if the things he’s describing were visible to him right now.
“Then, I’ll take you back to mine, maybe I’ll be presumptuous and buy you some lacy little underthings to wear for me, and–” He seems to snap out of the intensity all of a sudden, smirking down at you and cocking his head at your dazed and almost drooling expression.
“Well, the rest is a secret, but for now, let's just pencil all that in, hmn?”
“S-so, what did you have planned?” you bite your lip a little and reach past him to grab a scrunchie from your locker, but before you can slip it onto your wrist, Jake takes it off of your and begins combing your hair back himself. You stand and watch him dumbly as he does, already blanking out when his fingers seem to tighten ever so slightly as he gathers a ponytail at the base of your neck, and tugs.
You almost let out a pitiful little sound at the feeling, but unfortunately you aren’t able to control the fluttering of your eyes the same way. Jake smirks above you as he slips the scrunchie off his wrist and secures your hair into a somewhat regulation bun, all the while still grinning down at you. You want to tell him to screw valentines day and screw you now, but you manage to keep your mouth shut long enough for him to answer your question.
“I’ve already told you too much. Just be ready by seven. Wear something slinky for me, yeah?” he murmurs, letting his hands fall from the back of your head to your waist where he pulls you in.
“Alright,” you confirm, mind already wandering to what on earth you had in your closet right now that would fit the bill of ‘slinky’ and deciding that you were probably going to have to go shopping.
“Don’t worry about the lacy things,” Jake says softly, lips now ghosting over yours as he speaks, though he hasn’t broken your eye contact once yet. “I’ve already got that covered.” He says, making you go blank again.
The thought, no, the mere idea that Jake has bought you lingerie to wear, and that he wanted to see you in it, makes you want to vibrate right out of the room, and possibly several times around the planet, but you manage to resist, and instead just swallow heavily, and nod.
Jake grins wide, no longer smirking cheekily, his smile is nothing but warmth now, and you can’t help but mirror it.
“Great,” he says, giving your waist a squeeze, and you a tiny peck on the lips before he pulls away. “Now, I gotta get outta here before I get court-martialed.”
You snort as he spins on his heel and heads toward the door, but turns back and gives you a lazy salute and wink before he leaves.
When you’re certain that he’s gone, you let out a sigh and fall back against your locker, your heart thumping wildly along in your chest as you mull over your upcoming plans. The thought of shopping enters your mind once again, and you hum to yourself. Reaching for your throne, you shoot off a text to your group chat with Phoenix and Halo, and hope they won’t ask too many questions about your Valentine’s plans.
1K notes · View notes
ladytauria · 6 months
Note
A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it. is so jaytim
you’re right nonny it so is
my first impulse was like—the two of them getting accidentally domestic, bc i love characters falling into relationships without realizing it xD
but then this scenario popped in my head & that’s what came out instead~
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>> AO3 <<
Jason hasn’t been sleeping well.
His rest is troubled on a good day, and he hasn’t had many over the last week.
Well. It’s not that he’s had bad days, it’s just…
He misses Tim.
It’s stupid, because his bedroom is literally right across from Tim’s, but— It might as well be on the other side of the world.
He wishes they’d never agreed to stay at the manor for the holidays. It’s been miserable. Sure, he and Bruce are setting a record streak for lack of arguments. It’s been fun to hang out with the others, too, outside of the Cave and the mask. But—
Fuck.
The closest he’s gotten to a proper cuddle in a week was movie night, when he sat on the floor just to have an excuse to lean against Tim’s legs.
Jason knows he only has himself to blame. He’s the one who’s not ready to tell the others that they’re dating, even though they’ve damn near moved in together at this point. He just—he’s not ready for the judgment. The lectures, the shovel talks, the—everything. The reminder he’s not really good enough for Tim.
Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier.
Neither do the small, fleeting moments they manage to steal—the kisses they exchange in the lesser used parts of the manor, the brief hugs and touches they can exchange in front of the others. It’s. It’s fucking miserable.
He’s spent the last several nights lying awake, actively restraining himself from sneaking into Tim’s room. He just… He misses being held.
It’s the lack of sleep he’ll blame his slip-up on later, when all is said and done.
Tim’s got some stuff to do in the city today—Jason does too, but not until later—so Jason takes the liberty of making him a coffee and some breakfast to go, since he knows Tim won’t be down until it’s almost time to leave. He gets a couple of raised eyebrows, but, it’s not unusual for him to take the load off of Alfred, so no one actually says anything.
“You said you had plans today, right, Jason?” Dick asks, where he’s sitting at the breakfast table with Steph, Damian, Cass, and Duke. Bruce is standing with Alfred, the butler adjusting his tie like Bruce is twelve, and not forty-something.
“Yeah,” Jason says. “I’ll be gone for a couple hours.” First he has some packages to pick up, and also, every other week, he does story time at the library he used to half-live in as a child.
Tim shuffles in. Jason is glad Bruce will be driving—he looks like a zombie (and Jason would know). It takes him half a moment to spot the travel cup and paper bag sitting by Jason. He beelines over.
“Th’nks,” he mumbles, immediately popping the lid on his cup to take a long drink.
“Cool,” Dick says. “When you get back I was thinking we could break out the board games.”
Alfred finishes with Bruce. “Provided you all remember the rules, I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Master Dick.”
Jason snorts. One of these years they’re going to have all board and card games banned from the Manor.
“Ready to go, Tim?” Bruce asks.
“Sure, Dickie,” he says. “I’d love a chance to kick your ass.” His fingers catch in Tim’s belt loop before he can head to the door. He leans in, thoughtlessly, planting a chaste kiss on Tim’s mouth. “Have a good day, babe.”
Tim hums, smiling softly up at him. “You too.”
Jason almost doesn’t register the silence.
Then—
“What the fuck?” Stephanie breaks it, and Jason is reminded, abruptly, that they’re not alone.
The blood rushes to his face so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t pass out; his skin ablaze with his embarrassment. “…fuck.”
That’s one way to announce their relationship.
[ 50 types of kisses ]
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
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Buddy Daddies - Episode 9 - Preview is Up! - SPOILERS & SPECULATION!
It’s time for Sports Day! 
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So, according to the summary, neither Kazuki nor Rei have ever participated in a children’s sports day, which makes sense. Rei had an unconventional childhood and Kazuki grew up without much money and without parents, so it’s unlikely that he went to daycare or preschool. 
(Thinking about, this would also explain why neither Kazuki nor Rei thought of daycare or preschool right away and only got the idea after seeing a daycare bus go by the park.)
This means that this children’s sports day will be all of their firsts! Mine too, kinda. I’ve experienced elementary school and junior high school sports days, but never a daycare/preschool sports day. I found a blog post written by a mother who went to one (I’ll link it below in the comments) and a lot of the events involve the parents in the activity.
At the elementary and junior high school level, parents usually aren’t all that involved, But at the daycare level, it seems they are! Especially for the little babies (which makes sense, because they are babies, they can’t do too much on their own).
Putting the rest under a Read More because of spoilers!
Let’s look at some of the events we can see in the preview:
Tamaire - Bean Bag Toss
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It looks like Miri is holding a white colored bean bag in her hand, so this is probably going to be some a bean bag toss game.
Here is a description of the event:
Tamaire (玉入れ) translates “Beanbag toss”, and as the name implies, it is an exciting game where students throw small beanbags into a basket hung at the top of a tall pole. Beanbags are scatted on the ground around the pole, and each bag has the color of its team, typically red or white. Teams compete against each other based on the number of beanbags in the basket. There is a time limit, and the beanbags thrown into the basket after the time ends are not worth any points.
(I’ll link to the post where I got that description below in the comments).
Tug - of - War
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Tug-of-War is a staple and is basically at every sports day and it looks like Miss  Anna is tugging at a rope here. How it will go down here...I’m not too sure. Usually you’ll see combos like the kids going against each other, or students against teachers (junior high school), or even like teachers against parents (one of the rare events where you might see parents participate in Sports Days aimed at older years). Maybe here it will be the Aozora Staff vs The Parents? Or maybe the older kids and Miss Anna vs The Parents, lol.
I don’t know! It should be pretty interesting though! Of course, I could be wrong here too, but tug-of-war would make sense.
Kumitaiso (組体操) - Maybe? Or Stretching?
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I’m not 100% sure on this one. What is kumitaiso? 
Kumitaiso (組体操) is rather a group performance than individual competition. Students work together as a team and create a variety of gymnastic formations with their bodies.
Usually they make a pyramid, but this generally tends to be for older kids, and parents have noted in more recent years that it can be very dangerous, so many schools are getting rid of it. But maybe this is a more tame/safer and more simplistic version of something like that. But they could just be doing some kind of stretching activity here. If anyone knows for sure, feel free to let me know and I’ll add the info in!
Race
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And, of course, we have the race. According to the summary, Miri practices with Kazuki in the park and she does end up in the lead, but then she falls right before the finish line! T0T Oh no, Miri! A lesson in things being out of our control sometimes? About losing and taking it okay? Both? Something else entirely? I’m intrigued to see which it will be!
Let’s see, outside of that we have... 
Rei scouting out the daycare, lmao! XD
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It’s cute though! Rei is getting into the event in his own way.
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It seems both him and Kazuki are getting really invested in it, so this may end up being a lesson for them too (like parents centering themselves in their children’s sports activities and making it more about them than their child - you know, the parent that gets super worked up over their kid losing something, maybe kinda like Kazuki looks here: 
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But the kid will be totally fine. I can see them going with that angle. Since Buddy Daddies generally tends to be less about Miri learning some kind of lesson and more so about Kazuki and Rei learning something about parenting and themselves through raising Miri.
Changing up the focus a bit, one thing I’m really looking forward to is seeing Kazuki and Rei possibly interacting with the other daycare parents more (not just the Daycare Mamas!).
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You can spot a Daycare Papa! in the background there too. It’s also just really common to see like the whole family come out for Sports Day events, so like moms, dads, older and younger siblings, even grandparents.
The idea of Kazuki and Rei being able to take part in something so...innocent and group building is such a heartwarming idea. Though, I am also fully preparing myself for an after-credits scene that will go back to the drama at hand and Kyutaro’s decision, etc. and that’s probably going to hurt even more after this episode (likely as the writers intended, lol).
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Oh! Also, I love that we are seeing that follow through that I was hoping for from Episode 7! It seems Rei is going to be willingly choosing to make riceballs for Miri (enough that she could share them with her friends and others there too!). This lunch is going to be one that Kazuki and Rei make for their family together. T~T My heart! 
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Also, Rei learning how to make something like a riceball is such a good place to actually start (instead of French toast, which requires more basic skills and knowledge). It’s an easy (and quick) meal to learn how to make well. If they end up tasting really good too, then that can act as a very quick and easy boost to his confidence with making and preparing food. It’s such a good step in the right direction! I hope the kids and parents like his riceballs! 
Anyway, I’m going to fully appreciate this breather episode before we jump into the angst, action (probably), and drama of the final act of the series (Ep. 10 - 13).
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I've always wanted to do a fandom-ified Fallen Angel painting and it turns out The Amazing Digital Circus is the one that worked best for me XD I cranked this shit out over 2 days, most of which was done in one night, which is Very fast considering it is a digital painting And it has 7 characters in it And a full background kind of. I tossed around the idea of drawing Gumigoo as Lucifer instead bc he fits too, but tbh I just haven't really drawn Pomni and I like her design a lot and I wanted to draw her. So There. I didn't draw a guy for once. You're Welcome, Women /j.
Also you have no idea how hard it was for me to not furry-fy Jax I had to try so hard not to just make his head a Realistic Rabbit like i did with bugs bunny i love doing it it's so funny but i like his weird eyes and I wanted to draw them lol
Ngl I'm a lil pissed (at myself) with how quick I finished this bc ive got SO MANY UNFINISHED OFMD DRAWINGS but i am so self-critical bc i love the show so much and I end up never finishing shit 😭 I swear to god i need to stop being such a perfectionist and just Draw My Blorbos. I think it the reason I drew this so easily is because everyone's designs are wacky and completely unrealistic so I don't put so much pressure on myself for everything to be perfect. TLDR i need to stop bein such a baby lol
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