#this was extremely last moment but i hope you like it :))) happy birthday!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honkytonk-hangman · 2 months

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How It's Done – Oneshot Version

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader

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!

“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!”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction

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wannab-urs · 4 months

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Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you.

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here.

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH.

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming.

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet.

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners.

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?”

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading.

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?”

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap.

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file.

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work.

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner.

“So what are your plans tonight?” he asks.

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe.

“Your plans? For your birthday?”

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet.

“Me and Murphy could take you out?”

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,” Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door.

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life.

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve?

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door.

“Peña? What are you doing here?”

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face.

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.”

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware.

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.”

“Fine… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you.

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better.

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you.

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little.

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip.

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty.

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue.

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips.

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.”

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?”

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt.

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Come for me, baby.”

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you.

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you.

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.”

He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?”

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you.

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.”

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you.

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter.

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly.

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

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luveline · 8 months

Note

kiss over the interweb with sirius! him and reader have been together for awhile maybe since they were like 18/19 and them and being still super in love foreva! cliche couple loveliness

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader, 1k

Sirius' hair looks blue-black in the light. His smile shines mega watt gorgeous and his laugh bounces between pint glasses and plates of half eaten dinner. He's at the head of a long, long table, his friends and friend's friends turned out for a celebration of him. You aren't half as loud nor confident, but when he insisted you sit squished beside him, you couldn't say no.

"Where the hell have you been?" he questions, grabbing your waist as soon as you walk close enough. Any conversation he led swiftly pauses. "This is the worst birthday ever, babe, you keep disappearing."

Sirius has kept you within arm's reach for the last five years and it doesn't matter, he yanks you into his lap and kisses your cheek, careful not to mess with your makeup. His hand slides down to your hand where he twists your engagement ring around your finger. You're happy to get married but you're not in any big rush. Sirius, on the other hand, is desperate to get you down the aisle. Has been for years.

"Can't believe you're twenty four," you say, unbothered by the weight of tens of eyes on you as you take his face into your hands. You could draw him from memory. You could do it with your eyes closed. "You're finally growing into your nose."

Sirius (who, for the record, has an extremely handsome nose), beams at you. "You love this nose."

"I do." Sorry to his friends, but you share a gross, amazing kiss right then and there.

"Is that legal?" James asks.

"No." Remus clinks his drink against James'. "Will you get me another lemonade and blackcurrant, please? My legs hurt."

Sirius laughs into your mouth as James says, "No they don't. You're just lazy today. I know the difference."

"Will you get me one anyways? Please, James, I love you."

"They're almost as in love as we are," Sirius says, encouraging you back gently. "And we're sick."

You ease off of his lap and back into your seat. You've already sectioned off the lettuce and tomatoes from your salad for his perusal, and laying on a napkin by your plate is the extra fork you asked for and they forgot to give you. "Where'd you get this?" you ask.

"That's how long you took! Finish your food, doll, before it's stone cold."

You eat your food but he keeps distracting you. Even when he's talking to people he's squeezing your thigh under the table or bringing the salt shaker closer to you. You shove your plate away when things get too cold to soldier on, dragged into a conversation with Mary sitting to your left and her girlfriend Emmeline.

Sirius has always had a good bunch of friends. He's never made you feel like an outsider when you're with them, and you think they might actually really like you. You'd hope it, after this long together.

"Sweetness," Sirius says, wrapping his arms over your shoulders heavily, "another drink? And dessert, too, what dessert do you want?" He kisses your cheek between questions, gets distracted, stops asking and just hugs you to his chest for a bit.

"This is nice, huh?" you ask quietly.

He squishes you. "I'm gonna go get you another drink and then it'll be perfect."

You check your watch covertly, and, a master of trickery, turn into his arms to blag a kiss. The funny breathless feeling of his embrace starts to bloom in your chest, alive and well despite the thousands of days spent within it. He's your other half, your found piece, and every minute with him carries a shine that refuses to waver. Things calm down, of course, but you don't doubt for a moment that Sirius is as in sickening love with you as you are with him. The honeymoon phase has lingered like the heat of a long kiss.

"Happy birthday," you say as you pull away.

"Thank you. You know, I feel very lucky. I hope you know that."

You do. And you're glad he wants to tell you but maybe not in front of so many people, which is why the restaurant staff's perfect timing saves the day. Two waitresses carry a white piece of solid plastic and atop it waits your big surprise; a birthday cake with twenty four candles, three tiers of his favorite flavours, coffee, lemon, and plain chocolate fudge. The frosting for each is real buttercream to compliment the sponge, because fondant is for losers and you know what your baby likes. The candles flicker bright as the waitresses begin to sing, and for a solid five seconds, while all his friends join in, celebrating him and him alone, he turns his head to smile at you.

His smile quickly turns to a glare. But, ever a good sport, Sirius pushes aside your plates for the cake to be bestowed and blows out the candles soundtracked by a raucous wave of cheers.

"Hip hip!" James shouts.

You wince at the sheet volume of the answering hurray, but Sirius is laughing, and that's all that matters.

"First slice for my gorgeous fiancé!" he declares. "I wouldn't be in such good spirits nor state if she weren't with me today. I love you, sweetheart."

Your cheeks flush with pride. "I love you," you say, receiving his quick kiss eagerly.

"Don't get spit on the cake, lovebirds! Bagsy the second slice."

"You can't bagsy the second slice, James, it's his birthday," Mathilde laughs.

"Look, if he wanted the second slice, he should've said. I gave him loads of time to jump in. What flavours did you get, Y/N? You know what, don't tell me. I trust your judgement."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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spooky-bunnys · 11 months

Note

another taiju request cause I just found out something and i had this idea. So it’s canon that taiju likes sharks so imagine the reader one day showing up to his house and says he bought something special for him and go to change real quick and taiju is probably thinking something else but when the the reader walks out he’s in this cute shark onesie and starts acting like a shark and says “but that’s not all look” and pulls out a shark onesie for taiju and maybe Hakkai and yuzuha come home to see the reader and taiju acting like sharks while wearing the shark onesie and taiju start playfully chasing Hakkai while the reader is playing the jaws theme in the background

Meanwhile yuzuha is secretly recording this beautiful moment

Sorry it's so short and not exactly what you wanted. I'm writing Draken's Brother part 5. Haitani Baby Brother part 3. I'm also writing the D.L x V.K. crossover. And I'm trying to write something special for having 200 followers. But i hope you Enjoy!

Shark Attack

Taiju x Male Reader

When (Name) texted Taiju he had a surprise waiting for him at home. Yhe Black Dragons could tell their boss was excited. He was constantly checking the time on his phone. Since (Name) had gone shopping with his younger siblings. So he was excited to see what (Name) had gotten him. He wasn't going to lie. He hopes it's something "special".

His phone buzzed and Taiju almost fell over trying to get his phone out of his pocket. The gang members all sweatdropped. This was their mighty leader? When he saw it was a text from (Name) informing him they were home. The members had never seen their boss run so fast. "He does remember we have a meeting in like an hour right?" Kokonoi asked looking at his best friend who shrugged.

"He left with a smile. (Name) probably has something to do with it." Inui replied looking back at him. Kokonoi cringed. "Hey that's my cousin! I don't want to know what they're up to like that." The look of disgust and the shiver Kokonoi had as enough to explain his answer. He'd walked in on them too many times.

I mean how else are you supposed to react when you find out your cousin is EXTREMELY flexible. By walking in on your boss blowing your cousins back out on his kitchen counter. Please Kokonoi never wanted to see something like that again. But did when he got invite to swim at (Name)'s house and found his cousin preaching Taiju's name like he was a Saint in the hot tub!

Back with Taiju who had just pulled into the drive way of his and (Name)'s house. He turned off his bike and made his way inside. Expecting an empty house for his surprise but only to see both of his younger siblings playing what he guessed was a new game (Name) probably got Hakki. "I'm home" He called out. The two siblings barely looked away from the TV answering with a quiet "Welcome home."

(Name) came out of the kitchen with a new apron on. Considering Taiju ripped the other one off him last week. Taiju cringed remembering the smack and lecture he got for destroying the apron which apparently was a birthday gift from his siblings. "Babe! I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon! Don't you have a meeting soon?"

Taiju shrugged. If it meant spending more time with his (Name) he didn't care about some meeting. Inui and Kokonoi can take care of it. "I got your message that you had a surprise for me?" (Name)'s face lit up and he squealed kissing Taiju's cheek before running upstairs. Taiju confused smiled loving how happy (Name) seems to be.

It didn't take long for (Name) to return. Taiju was expecting a revealing outfit. Like maybe a crop top and those shorts Taiju has been trying to convince (Name) to get. But no. (Name) came hopping down the stairs in a full suit. A full shark onesie. Taiju froze staring at him. (Name) giggled catching his attention. "That's not all~" (Name) pulled from behind his back an even bigger shark onesie. Taiju smirked widely. God does he love him.

Bouns:

(Name): *playing jaws music from his phone*

Hakki: *running away with tear filled eyes*

Taiju: *chasing after Hakki in the shark onesie* I'm gonna eat you!

Yuzuha: *recording to sent to Kokonoi and Mitsuya*

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #taiju x male reader #taiju shiba x male reader #taiju shiba

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chiki-chiki-ahh · 10 days

Text

April 17th member messages

I managed to get the post translated by a native speaker for better accuracy and less meaning getting lost by google translate being confused by idioms and such.

I believe that we, international fans, deserve to get the same closure.

RUKI

At the end, he said, "I want the GazettE to be eternal."

What did he mean by eternity?

I think he hopes that the view that Reita himself saw from the stage in 2023 will continue forever.

The view he saw with his fans.

The happy faces of his fans.

The view where we could all shout together.

That is a treasure that can't be replaced by anything else.

I think he wanted those moments to last forever.

I remember him saying he wanted to perform a concert as soon as possible.

Even now as an adult, he was a kind and passionate man who could honestly say, "Even when I'm having a bad day, I have the most fun when I get together with the band members like this and laugh."

He was a kind and passionate man who could honestly say that.

I loved that honesty.

We used to jokingly tell each other every birthday that we should take care of each other's health every year, and this year is no different.

The band will never be four people.

No matter what anyone says.

You're the only bass player in our band.

I believe that [your] spirit will always be right next to me.

You can feel it even if you can't see it.

The living proof that you've built up the GazettE up until now will never disappear and will always live on.

I believe that, and I want to make sure that the soul of the GazettE is right next to me.

I'll keep singing next to you so that your spirit can be right next to mine.

I will never become the GazettE that Reita hates.

I won't make you feel sad.

I believe that we all live in a finite world, but the soul is something that never disappears.

Reita's soul, the members' souls, mine.

And the fans.

I want to continue performing in such a way that everyone who loves me [/ us] like this will want to come to the stage forever, even if they become just souls.

Therefore, only with each and every one of our fans we can create the view that he wished would be eternal.

That's why I want things to remain unchanged and him to remain there.

Rather than people looking at him and being sad, I think he would want people to remember him as being great.

We are more determined than ever to protect this band.

We'll make the eternity Reita wished to come true.

So, Reita, come to our gigs from heaven every time without hesitation.

Your spot will always be there.

We're going to be extremely busy from now on.

I'll contact you again when the schedule is fixed.

URUHA

To all the fans who have supported Reita so far,

He has been a tremendous support for everyone and for me.

I myself have not been able to accept the fact that he is no longer with us and that we will not be able to stand on stage together.

There may be many things that I will gradually come to understand in the future.

I strongly feel that I need to have the strength to look forward and move forward now, because if I remain in sorrow, I will not be able to fulfill his wish for eternity.

And I believe that the path he has taken with everyone so far has been invaluable to him, and I think it will live on in everyone's and my heart for a long time to come.

He has given so much and has been with us for so long that he is and will forever remain our best friend.

Please keep all the words, memories and love he left behind in your hearts.

Reita will continue to exist and live on in everyone's hearts.

We would like to thank everyone who has supported the GazettE's Reita so far.

AOI

For a long time now, the members and a few staff have been doing a lot of different jobs, "this and that", but I wanted to do anything but write this.

There have been moments in the past when I felt like giving up on my dream.

Each time, we discussed it again and again, and sometimes we pushed our backs [and supported each other] so they wouldn't give up.

It was because we were such a band that the GazettE was able to keep going without stopping.

Reita, you are not the one who should wish for eternity, you are the one who is supposed to connect eternity.

I can't say to you, "I'll carry the burden [of connecting the eternity] for you", that's not a cool line.

I wanted to play more music with you, I wanted to see more of the world with you.

Any view is great when you see it with us five, surrounded by fans.

I don't know, there are so many things I want to say, but it's just too painful that none will be a reality.

Anyway, when I go over there, I'm going to start scolding you. I know you'll miss us since we're suddenly gone, but until then, just rest up.

I have a few more things to do over here.

Thank you for walking this long road together. Please rest in peace.

KAI

For me, Reita is an immeasurably big presence, I was saved by many of his words and sounds, he is the mood maker for the band, and all I can remember is how much fun he is, and above all, how he shined on stage.

He is our best and only rhythm partner.

That has never changed and will never change.

I will continue to carry his thoughts on my shoulders and continue the GazettE with even greater determination.

Finally, to all the fans and everyone involved who have supported us for 22 years.

Thank you very much.

And from now on, we would like to continue to run with the five of us without changing our thoughts and feelings.

Reita,

Thank you for your hard work.

I will continue to protect the GazettE with the same feelings and many friends… I promise.

I don't want those 22 years [with you] to be in vain, there are a lot of friends that are waiting for us.

You should definitely show up at the gigs too!

Let's have a good drink again.

#the gazette #reita #the meaning remains the same for the most part but there were parts that raised confusion or some speculations #with that i'm logging off again

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deathbxnny · 11 months

Note

hiiii !! thank you so much for doing my doctor s/o request, i liked it sm but i'm too anxious to thank you in comments, haha.. (´･ᴗ･ ` )

so !! do you mind if i make another request ?? okay so! an artist s/o with hsr characters who likes to draw them. i'm thinking of a little cute scenario, like y'know, it's some important date for character and s/o and s/o gives them their sketchbook which filled with drawings of them?? as a present? like s/o loved to sketch them every chance they get (´• ω •`) i don't know if i explained my request well...

AH. could you include sampo, haha...please? i love this silly man sm ~

don't forget to stay hydrated!! eat and sleep well !!!! thank you again for doing my last request! (⌒▽⌒)♡

-----♡

A/N: Hello again, Anon! Thank you for the request! I find your ideas so cute! Also thank you for the kind reminders!<33

Featured characters: Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan

Content: Artist reader, established relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread!))

-----♡

》Sampo Koski

He loves your art alot and supports you as much as he can. He likes watching you draw/paint too, mainly because he finds how focused and serious you look during it super cute. Is definitely the type to keep any drawing you give him, even a small doodle.

With that said, he notices whenever you draw him. He never tells you this however and just always conveniently stays in the same spot for you, even if that means that he can't move for a while. He doesn't mind though and finds it adorable that you want to draw him of all people.

It was Sampo's birthday, when he finally was able to catch a glimpse of the drawings you were making of him. He was grateful for your gift and promised to cherish it. It was the first time he ever looked so serious and vulnerable, which made you very happy.

He carries the notebook with him often now, so that whenever he misses you, he can just take a look at what your beautiful hands made for him and feel better.

-----♡

》Gepard Landau

He fully supports your Artist career and makes sure everyone in Belobog appreciates it too. He's just so unbelievably proud and always tells you how talented you are all the time. Definitely also spoils you with any art supplies you might need.

He never notices when you draw him, mainly because he's always busy with work during it or just very tired. Thankfully he doesn't move much when he's working on paperwork in his office or resting in the house, so that gives you plenty of opportunities to draw him in secret.

You gave him the little notebook full of drawings of himself on your anniversary as a couple. He was quite surprised at how full it was and even laughed lightly at how he just never noticed. He kisses you hands, thanking you deeply for this beautiful and meaningful gift.

He keeps the notebook with him whilst he's out on the front lines, mainly for when he misses you and to remind himself of what he can come home too soon.

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Supports your passion with everything he has and shows it off to absolutely everyone. People just have to know how talented and great the general's s/o is afterall! He'll take care of any art supplies or other needs you have, he just finds how excited you get over new paint or pencils so cute.

It's alot harder to hide it from him, that you're drawing him, because he just notices everything about you. He finds it adorable and amusing, when you hide your notebook from him and tell him that he can't see it yet.

He's still pleasantly surprised, when you give him the notebook to him as a gift for a gift giving festival. Jing Yuan is extremely thankful and makes sure you know it with sweet praise and endearings.

He keeps the notebook at his desk in his office, so that he can look at it and think of you during longer work days. He perhaps also uses it to justify slacking off for a couple moments.

-----♡

A/N: Thank you again for this Anon! I hope you liked it!<33

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr sampo #hsr sampo x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr gepard #hsr gepard x reader

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callsignspark · 4 months

Text

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5.2

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 3.6k

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note: happy Friday! I hope everyone had lovely holidays and 2024 is going well for you so far! I did have some issues tagging people so apologizes if you didn't notified! I really loved writing this chapter, especially since it's going to help set the stage for the rest of the story! (only 4 more parts to go! isn't that crazy??) please be safe if you have snow coming towards you this weekend, and enjoy these two pining and yearning for each other more than ever.

part 8.5.2 - rambling and rings

Friday, April 16, 2021

Mary waves at the obnoxiously large SUV as Slider honks and drives away. Leaning against the entryway table, she slips her heels off and wiggles her painted toes at the feeling of the soft runner beneath her feet. Shuffling over to the entertainment console, she hums as she connects her phone, choosing the song that was on in the car.

The dreamy guitar intro floats through the air, making her smile. And the last beams of golden sunshine disappear as she dances through the living room, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled in her chest and closing the blinds in between twirls.

Good things are happening at work, rumbles that there’s a promotion coming on the horizon. The monthly call back home to her parents hadn’t ended in tears for the first time in months. Most of her evenings are spent in the company of at least one Dagger family member, helping Kris and Dani with their kids or enjoying the adult-only life with Aaron and Flora. Bradley is messaging her as often as he can, every email making her heart flutter, increasing her joy with every sentence he types.

Everything is coming together in ways she had never even dared to dream about.

An early dinner with Ron, Mav, and Penny was the cherry on top of a great week. The four of them laughing and telling stories the entire time, taking advantage of the warm spring weather at the patio table Pete had reserved for Slider’s birthday. As stories and photos were traded across the table, Mary felt like her heart could burst learning about baby Bradley. The only quiet moment of the evening was when their waiter brought an unordered round of drinks to the table, prompting the men to venture inside and thank the old Navy buddy that had spotted them through the window.

“Thank you, Matt; it was getting just a tiny bit too windy for us.”

“No problem, ma’am.” The young man smiles over his shoulder as he finishes turning the outdoor heater on. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now, thank you,” Penny answers, glancing at Mary, softening at the sight of the younger woman lost in thought as she stares out at the ocean with a content smile.

She watches as brown eyes drift from the water to the table, gentle fingers tracing over a copy of a photo that’s older than the girl studying it. Penny stays quiet, letting the sound of waves crashing on the sand accompany the slight furrow that creases Mary’s brow as she brings the photo closer to her face.

“He looks just like his dad, doesn’t he?”

“He does; he acts a lot like him, too, more than he realizes.”

“You knew him?” It’s not a surprised reaction, just curious.

Penny hums, “We weren’t close, but I knew him enough to see how much Bradley has turned out like him. He’s a good blend of both his parents.”

“Did you know Carole very well?”

“More than Nick, by default, but for the most part, we were at different stages in life. She was older than me by a few years. I was in college and she was a widow raising a toddler. But, as you know, the aviator community is pretty small, so we were friendly. I would even babysit Bradley sometimes when the guys were deployed.”

“He was a cute baby,” Mary says softly, eyes back on the last photo taken of the whole Bradshaw family.

“He was… turned out to be a handsome man, didn’t he?” Penny asks, taking advantage of the moment.

She smirks as the younger woman looks up at her through her lashes, a shy smile stretching her pink cheeks. “He did.”

“Can I ask you something while they’re still inside?”

“We’re not together. But we are going on a date the week after he gets back.” Now it’s Mary’s turn to smirk at how Penny’s eyebrows rocket up to her hairline. “That is what you were going to ask me, right?”

“It’s close enough. Are you excited?”

“I am. I really like him.”

It’s the first time she admitted it out loud to anyone other than her best friend. She revels in the encouraging energy and words Penny gives back, both of them still giggling like school girls when Pete and Ron return.

“What are you two laughing about?” Slider asks as he slips Mary’s wrap over her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing.” When Penny winks, she has the overwhelming urge to cry. The knowing look accompanying those two words is more affectionate and maternal than anything her mother has done in years.

Their hug goodbye lasts a few seconds longer than expected, and the gentle hands that smooth some stray hairs back make her throat tighten. Slider is quiet on the ride home; familiar with the many moods of Mary, he lets her work through her thoughts with the radio on low.

“Y’okay, kid?” He doesn’t speak until he pulls into her neighborhood, giving himself a five-block buffer to determine if a pit stop to the closest ice cream shop is required.

“Yeah. Just-” Mary pauses, trying to figure out how to best explain. “Just still getting used to it.”

“To what?”

“To how easy it is to just be me out here. Surrounded by people who have just folded me into their lives with zero hesitation, like I’ve always been here.”

“Mary, were you happy in Florida?”

“I was content. Getting to know you helped with that a lot, but let’s face it; if I was happy, I wouldn’t have been so excited to leave.”

“And you’re happy now?”

“I am. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

It's a cheesy line, but true. She knew that when she said it, accepting the light teasing that followed with a smile. One that hadn’t left her face as she said goodbye to her mentor, one that grows as the song starts again. She can’t help how big her grin gets. This song always reminds her of Bradley.

“I'm in love, I'm alive. I belong to the stars and sky.”

Letting the song stay on repeat, Mary stops in the kitchen for some water on her way to the bedroom. It’s still early - not even eight yet - but a full night’s sleep is calling her name, eyelids feeling heavy.

She slips her clothes off, folding the jeans for tomorrow and tossing her shirt in the laundry. A small groan of relief accompanies the unclasping of her bra before she slings it into the hamper. Turning the bedroom speakers down slightly as she enters the bathroom, a grimace instantly creases her face when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

“Jesus…” Her disbelief echoes in the room as gentle fingers rub over the harsh red lines where her clothes dug into her skin. It’s evident where the waistband of her jeans sat all day. And the tender spots under her arms lets her know it’s time to look for better-fitting bras, again. Mary tugs the leg of her panties up, relieved to see at least one piece of clothing hasn’t left its mark.

She’s massaging the sore spots on her chest, letting her warm hands diminish the pain, when her phone rings. Her eyebrows furrow deeper at the unknown number flashing across the screen.

Usually, at this time of night, she’d ignore an unknown number and let the other person leave a voicemail, but something in her gut tells her to pick up before it’s too late.

“Hello?” There’s a muffled response, and she scrambles to disconnect her phone from the speakers. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Hello, ma’am. Can I speak to Mariella Vertucci?”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Lieutenant Corso in the communications bay on the USS Roosevelt. Can you confirm your identity with your full name, birthday, and the eight-digit code given to you by Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

Mary’s heart stops for a second. This is it. Bradley is calling. She’s going to get to talk to him after forty-eight days. Hear his voice. See his face.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Mariella Theresa Vertucci, born March 14, 1987. The code is 0125-2020.”

“Thank you, ma’am. One minute, please.” The soft clacking of a keyboard filters through the phone, the Lieutenant's tongue clicking as he types. “You’ve been verified. Does the phone you’re using have video chat capabilities.”

“It does, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Stay on the line, and in a few minutes, a video chat will come through with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. You have been allotted 30 minutes today. I am required to remind you that communication is not secure. This means, for security purposes, you cannot ask what time of day it is, what location, or how any missions have gone. Please confirm that you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you. I am also required to let you know that this video chat is conducted in a private area and will not be monitored. However, the audio will be recorded, so any lewd acts are discouraged but not forbidden.”

Mary can’t help the snort that escapes. “But not forbidden?”

“Uh- the uh-” She smothers a chuckle at how the kid trips over his words. “The Navy understands that loved ones are apart for long periods of time and can’t forbid any uh- urges that couples may wish to act upon during their chats. But we are legally required to inform everyone of the recording.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“No problem, ma’am. Please stay on the line, and your loved one will be joining shortly.” She giggles at how quickly the hold music starts, humming along to Anchors Aweigh as she clips her hair up, ready to take her makeup off. She’s about to wet a washcloth when the music cuts, and the video call comes through.

Taking a second to look herself over, Mary admires the tendrils that have escaped, perfectly framing her cheeks that are still flushed from the wine she had with dinner. The slightest bit still tipsy and a little frazzled about Bradley, she realizes just in time that she’s still only in her underwear, hitting the accept button and dropping the phone on the counter.

“One second! Just- oh, come on! Fuck!” She curses under her breath as she struggles to slip into her bathrobe. “Hang on, Bradley!”

Finally getting both arms in, she ties the robe, eyebrows raising in surprise at how it cinches her waist, before eagerly grabbing her phone.

“Hi, Mary.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

She greedily drinks him in. It’s been 48 days since she’s seen his handsome face or heard his warm voice - the longest since they met - and she’s missed him. Her heart clenches at how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever.

“Hi, honey.” The sweet name hits something deep inside, and she can’t help the tears that immediately form or the way her bottom lip wobbles. “Oh, shit, Mary. Please don’t cry, honey.”

The emotional reaction surprises even her; she was expecting to be a bit overwhelmed, but nothing like this. It makes her feel a little ridiculous, crying about a man she’s barely even kissed. But you love him, her brain chimes in, sending more heat to her face.

“This is your uncle’s fault!” She laughs, swiping tears away and propping her phone against the mirror.

“Mav?”

She can’t help but giggle at his disbelieving tone as she reaches for a tissue. “No, Slider. He’s in town this week, and he may or may not - but definitely did - get me tipsy at dinner, like he always does!”

She trills on about dinner, telling him about the childhood stories that were shared and the baby photos that now live on her phone, not noticing the look on his face until he interrupts.

“You getting in the shower, Mary?”

The husky tone immediately grabs all of her attention, a shiver running down her spine at the smoldering look on Bradley’s face. She follows his eyes down, surprised to see how much her robe has come undone. The valley between her breasts is completely visible, and the fabric is threatening to expose her belly button - and more - if it’s not fixed.

“Oops…” She mumbles to herself, tightening the robe so much it pushes her cleavage together.

Normally, this is where her insecurities would ruin the moment - flooding her brain with terrible things. Make her spend the rest of the call analyzing how she looks in the tiny corner box, agonizing how prominent her double chin is from this angle. But the soft fuck that crackles through the phone squashes the anxieties before they can take root, shifting her attention to admire the man looking back at her.

And god, he is a man.

Bradley Bradshaw has always been gorgeous: tall, strong, and deliciously tan. But mid-deployment Bradley Bradshaw is a vicious attack to the senses. And the hormones.

His broad shoulders have gotten broader, filling the little privacy cubicle in the communications room so much that he’s brushing both sides of the walls. His curls are more golden than usual, clear evidence of time spent flying in the Pacific tropics. His tan is deeper, too, glowing even in the harsh florescent lighting, the bridge of his nose slightly sunburnt. His neatly trimmed mustache moves with his lush pink lips, warmth building in her core as her thoughts drift to the memory of how they felt pressed against hers.

“Mary?” She hums, eyes focusing back into the present and away from her favorite post-deployment reunion fantasy. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

It's clear he wasn’t expecting that answer from the way he drags a hand over his mouth to muffle a cruse, his eyes scrunching shut.

She wasn’t expecting it either; the effects of the wine have mostly worn off, leaving her with flushed cheeks and apparently a slightly looser tongue. She can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about the overly honest answer. Communicating exclusively via email for the last month and a half has allowed Mary to gain confidence in Bradley’s feelings. It’s hard to wonder about his intentions when every email ends with him telling her how many days are left until he’s home.

“Your lips…” She continues, emboldened as the last remnants of wine soften the sharp edges of her insecurities and the pink working its way up his neck. She loves how easily Bradley blushes for her. Their few kisses have always ended with his cheeks a lovely, rosy shade. “How soft your hair is. Your mustache. How strong you are. How much I miss you…”

The words make them both pause. It’s not an uncommon phrase, every email containing some variation of the sentiment, but hearing the words out loud makes it real. Cementing the longing in their chests.

“I miss you, too.” The words are quiet, echoing against the tiled walls. She chuckles, throat thick with emotion, and Bradley can’t look away from her soft smile. His heart pounding at the emotion on her face, something he can’t quite place. He can’t stop staring as she picks the phone up and flicks the light off, “Where are we going?”

“Couch.”

He smiles as the familiar walls of her living room appear, grin going slack when she props him up on the side table, and the slit of her robe reveals a thigh that he’s dreamt about as she shuffles pillows. Bradley manages to pull his mind out of his post-deployment fantasy as she plops on her couch - that damn pink couch - and smiles at him over the arm, her eyes almost closing she grins so hard.

“I’m sorry I missed our call.”

“It’s okay, Bradley. I knew it was a possibility, and Mav let me know what was going on. I understand.”

“I want to hear about your birthday.”

“I told you about my birthday! We’ve discussed it extensively.”

“I still want to hear about it. I want to hear your voice.” He revels as she softly whines and smooshes her face into a pillow, thrilled to cause that reaction. “C’mon, please, Mary?”

“You’re not fighting fair.” The muffled complaint comes back, making him laugh, but she does as asked.

Bradley listens, humming along as she recounts her birthday for him and insisting for the hundredth time that it was his pleasure to give her presents. He lets her lead the conversation as it shifts to what’s happening in San Diego, content to watch her as she shares stories of what he’s missing at home. Happy to just admire her and occasionally ask questions.

It’s so easy to get lost looking at her. Dark hair swishing around her shoulders, just slightly shorter than it was in February. Her brown eyes look darker than usual, the low light in the room making them almost black instead of the warm brown he’s used to staring into. And despite resecuring the robe, it’s coming loose again, enough that the top curve of her breasts are visible; freckles dotted all over, disappearing beneath the baby blue fabric. Bradley thinks about what it would be like to connect the dots on her soft skin, tracing invisible lines with his fingers or lips. He imagines there’s more hiding behind the waffle material. He wonders if she’d let him find out.

The fantasy of how wonderful it would be to memorize every mark on her body is interrupted as red nail polish grabs his attention. He loves her hands, smaller than his but so strong when she’s working on a jet. Steady as she calls out instructions to her team, grease smeared up to her elbows and her nail color of the week shining through the black sludge. Mary insists that she doesn’t talk with her hands, that she managed to avoid that stereotypical Italian-American trait, but Bradley smirks as her hands swirl through the air. He’s about to interrupt the story she’s giggling through - something about the latest swear word that Danielle accidentally taught Annie - when something sparkly on her finger distracts him.

A ring.

A diamond ring.

A simple silver band lined with tiny diamonds.

On her ring finger.

On her left ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to study the never-before-seen piece of jewelry. Mary must notice his confusion because she cuts her story off and flashes her hand at the camera. “I bought this for myself when I got promoted for the first time. I went from EI to EII, which is entry-level engineer to associate engineer. It was $50 from this little shop that was on the same block as my first solo apartment in St. Louis.”

Relief sweeps through his body, thrilled that Mary hadn’t gotten engaged with him.

“That’s awesome. Have you done that every time you’ve moved up?”

“Kinda? I always buy myself some sort of gift - last time, I splurged and got that big blender we used at the Christmas party. But I’ve only done jewelry a few times. I think I’m going to get a necklace next time, something to match this.” She explains, wiggling her fingers so the gems shimmer in the camera.

“It’s very pretty.” Bradley compliments, feeling bold enough to go further. “You look good with a ring on that finger.”

“Jesus, Brad-”

She’s cut off by the two-minute alert popping up. They had been so distracted they weren’t paying attention to the countdown timer.

“Already?” Mary pouts, forehead crinkling as she frowns. “But I didn’t get to ask you about carrier food.

“It’s bad, honey. Yours is so much better.”

“Or how you’re sleeping.”

“Reuben’s snoring has somehow gotten even louder since last time we shared a bunkroom; Bob, Mickey, and I owe you for the extra earplugs you sent.”

“You’re sunburnt.”

“I’m wearing the sunscreen you gave me; the sun is just strong.”

“I knew I should have sent the SPF 75!” Bradley smiles as Mary throws her head back in faux despair. “Oh well, now I know for next time, I guess.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think I’d only send you a care package one time, did you? I gotta make sure you have everything you need. I know I missed some stuff this time, but I’ll get better in the future! I promise.”

I love you.

He just barely holds the words in.

“God, I fucking miss you.” He stares at the screen, watching the prettiest brown eyes in the world fill with tears at his words. “Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I’ll be home so soon.”

“But twenty-four days is such a long time, and I miss you so much.”

“I know, but we’ve already done 48 days. Twenty-four will be a breeze to get through.” The timer starts blinking, the last 60 seconds counting down. “I gotta get going, Mary. But you keep sending me flirty emails so I have something to read and think about.”

He chuckles at the little surprised noise she makes. “You noticed that?”

“Did I notice that? Mariella, in the kindest way, you are not subtle.”

“Well- I-” She splutters. “Neither are you!”

“I’m not trying to be, baby doll,” Bradley revels in her reaction to the pet name - mouth dropping open as she blinks at him, cheeks pinker than he’s ever seen - one he didn’t even mean to use.

The flustered hand she waves at the camera while yelling at him makes him laugh. “Bradley!”

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe. Only 24 days.”

“Only 24 days.”

“I miss you, handsome.”

Bradley's face feels hot, choked up at the look in her eyes, the softness of her words. “I miss you, too, baby doll.”

They don’t say goodbye, choosing to admire each other as the final seconds tick away.

5…

I can’t wait to see you in person.

4…

God, you’re so gorgeous.

3…

I don’t want to hang up.

2…

I miss you.

1…

I love you.

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #mar[r]y me fic #elle writes

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newtthetranswriter · 5 months

Text

Birthday Twins?

Word count: 1338

Paring: Gojo x reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a night out alone to celebrate your birthday, turns into meeting another soul alone on what is apparently also his birthday.

Warnings: Forgotten birthdays, mentions of bars, Gojo is probably a little ooc. let me know if i missed anything.

A/N: Happy birthday to the Beautiful Gojo. I feel like at this point this Fic event has turned into celebrating different anime character’s December birthdays, but you know what, that’s fine. Anyway, thanks to [ena] for the idea for this one, as well as the one coming out on Hawks’ birthday. I hope everyone enjoys and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

Birthdays suck, especially when you've spent every one alone. It doesn't help having your birthday so close to such a major holiday. Everyone thinks oh your birthday’s right before Christmas it must mean double the presents when in reality half the time people completely forget about your birthday. It's all about Christmas and the other winter holidays, birthdays come second.

This year though I decided it'd be different, I may not have anyone to celebrate with, but I can still have a good time. I planned a night out for myself, going to a nice dinner followed up by a couple drinks at the club. So to start my night of fun, I got dressed in my best outfit.

When I got to the restaurant, I got a few sad looks from bystanders, who I assume felt bad for me going out by myself. But I don't care, I’m going to spoil myself and have a good night.

Ignoring the pity glances, I enjoyed my meal. I had a small chat with the waiter before paying and heading out for the rest of my night.

Making it to the club, I was greeted by the loud and chaos filled environment which people expect when going out. I weaved my way through the crowd, finding an empty place at the bar, and politely waved down the bartender.

After I received my drink, the bartender decided to strike up a conversation. “So, what's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?” They asked. I just rolled my eyes before thanking them for a drink, walking to an empty booth, to just watch the crowd.

Settling into my seat, I looked at my drink, the bartenders words making me think about how truly alone I am at this moment. Sighing to my self, I raised my class in a mock toast, “Well, Happy Birthday to me.” As I was about to down my drink, I froze, having heard the exact same sentence in a more masculine tone from right behind me. I quickly turned around to see a white-haired man with dark sunglasses looking directly at me as well. Stunned, I couldn’t think of anything to say, the only thing coming to mind was ‘fuck he’s hot’.

Noticing my stunned state, the attractive stranger spoke first. “Seems like we’re both in the same situation, care to discuss over a drink” He said with a smirk. I jumped, not expecting him to offer company. I guess he took my surprise as an answer and moved from his spot to sit across from me in my booth. “The name's Satoru Gojo. Nice to meet you.” He introduced, while sitting down.

“Um Y/n Y/l/n, nice to meet you.” I said, still processing the events of the last few minutes. “So it’s also your birthday?” I asked the most logical question to start this conversation.

Gojo just smiled before responding. “Yup, figured I’d spend it watching people make poor choices.” He said, gesturing to the club full of drunk people. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you spending the day alone?” He questioned.

Figuring this was better than drinking my thoughts away, I responded. “I don’t have many friends, and even if I did, they would probably forget about my birthday anyway, everyone always does.” It was harsh, but the truth, forgotten birthdays were extremely common for me growing up. I watched as the man across from me frowned slightly. “So, Gojo, why are you spending the day alone? I’m sure someone as handsome as you, has at least one person to spend the day with.” I said in a slightly flirtatious manner, trying to lighten the mood.

I watched as he smirked slightly at the complement before responding. “Actually, with my line of work, I don’t have much time to get out. Plus, it’s too dangerous to drag someone into my lifestyle.” Now that piqued my interest, what did this guy do for work that was so dangerous.

“Well, then what do you do for work? What could be so bad that you don’t have a partner in life? Are you a criminal or something?” I asked, hoping to have not over stepped.

It was clear that he had to take a moment to decide whether to answer or not, but when he sighed, I knew he made his decision. Finishing off his drink, he started talking. “It’s difficult to explain, the most I can say is that my job is to keep people safe, and it’s agreed upon by everyone in this field that I’m the best. Trust me, I’m not trying to be cocky. It’s the truth, everyone looks to me for help when they can’t fix something.” He said, looking down at the table. I took a moment to process, this guy wants me to believe that his job is so dangerous he can’t tell me much other than the fact that he’s the best.

It is hard for me to believe, but the look on this man’s face told me he was being truthful. “Well, if people rely on you that much, you have to at least have some friends to talk to?” I asked, hoping to learn more.

I watched as a gentle smile took over his face. “Yeah, I do have a couple friends, but the ones I talk to most are my students. I’m teaching them how to do this job so they can take over when the older generation is gone, but sometimes it feels like they’re actually my kids.” He spoke about these students like they were his world. “I honestly don’t know where I would be without them.”

“So you’re the strongest and a teacher, what can’t you do?” I joked, earning a laugh from the man across from me. “But in all honesty, it’s amazing that you’re teaching the future generation. I may not know what it is your job entails, but it sounds like guidance is a good thing to offer to them.” I smiled, making eye contact with him over the edge of his glasses, taking in his bright blue eyes for just a moment.

He smirked, noticing that I was amazed by his beautiful eyes. “Thank you. Now, enough about me and what I do, What does the wonderful Y/n do for work?” He asked, shifting the conversation.

Snapping out of the trance his eyes put me in, I thought for a second. “I just work at the mall. Nothing amazing, just a simple customer service job.” I explained, looking off to the side. Here I am talking with this guy who teaches the next generation of what ever job he does, and all I do is try not to get yelled at by cranky people all day. It’s obvious that he’s way better off than I am.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed by that, I don’t think I could survive a day dealing with entitled karens and grumpy assholes.” He said with a laugh. “Plus, without people working in customer service, this world would crumble.” It was clear he was trying to make feel better about it.

I just smiled in response before thinking of another topic, as work was a boring on for me. “Ok, how about a change of topic, What is your favorite food?” I asked, hoping to smoothly change focus, but still keep talking.

From the smile on his face, I could tell he was fine with the change of topic, as he went on to explain that he’s a fan of anything sweet and began listing some of his favorites.

That’s how we spent the rest of the night, talking about anything from our favorite food, to what shows we were currently watching. Sure, I started today thinking it was going to be another lonely birthday, but fate was on my side and showed me someone to connect with. Hopefully if this goes well then on our next birthday neither of us will have to spend it alone.

#jjk x reader #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #Newt's Winter Fic Event #jjk x reader fluff

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sunlightwoo · 9 months

Text

feather

pairing: hueningkai x g.n reader

genre: comfort fic, almost bff2l, slight angst warnings: mentions of running someone w a car rating: 13+

wc: 654

a/n: originally this fic was supposed to be posted in july as a gift but happy late late (like literally 3 weeks late) birthday @fairybinie <3 i hope that your birthday was spent so so well and i feel like it's been such a pleasure to call you one of my close friends :(( i also wanted to say happy birthday to hyuka as well!! this fic is for both val and our favorite maknae so i hope you guys enjoy reading this!!

“I can't take another moment with him.” You groaned before tossing your phone into the backseat of the car and slumping down even further into your seat.

It was another one of your late night drives with your best friend, Kai, when you had been distracted with the sound of your buzzing for the past 2 hours. The individual that you had been texting, or at least trying to cut off, was someone that you thought would reciprocate your feelings but it ended like any other situationship that you found yourself into. The only thing coming from them was just the same three words that you weren’t looking for.

‘Send a pic.’

“Am I allowed to run him over with my car?” Kai asks but you sigh to yourself, shaking your head at his question.

“I think you should be, at this point.” But you always wondered why it was so hard these days to find someone genuine.

It had been over a year or so since your last relationship, and to say that you were still in your healing process was a bit more extreme said than done. You wanted to find your inner peace at some point, but it was hard when every other person was just like the last, making you want to rip your hair out and never be in another relationship again.

“Why can’t I find someone that actually wants to know more about me?” You mumbled to yourself quietly and stared at your fingers that were in your lap, but what you failed to notice was the latter’s glance that was focused towards you.

For the past three years that Kai has known you, he could’ve mistaken all of the supposed platonic dates and actions that you two have done together as purely platonic and just that. He never had thought of you in the light before where you had meant much more to him than a friend. But ever since the start of you looking for other guys to date and find love in, he realizes that he was stuck as the friend that comforts and heals your broken heart at the end of the night.

Even if it had meant running some of them over, hypothetically, with the car that you both were sitting in right now.

“I always like knowing more about you.” He speaks up with a small smile, making you turn your head to look at him as a playful scoff leaves your lips.

“You’re obligated to say that, you’re my best friend.”

Right, he was stuck in the friend zone.

Maybe someday he will tell you how much you mean to him, in terms of wanting to protect you against the world. The way that love should feel as though you’re a feather floating around in mid air, letting it take its course with ease from the moment that you have found that right person. Maybe that one day will be the day that he tells you about how he wants to be the soft summer breeze that helps keep you afloat in happiness, if you were a feather.

But that day isn’t going to be for today, as he knew that you needed him more now than any other day.

“Then as your best friend, let’s just go home and watch some Netflix, hm? No more being sad, and let’s just take our time debriefing ourselves at home.” He suggests while holding up a french fry as an offering, a silent one that definitely has more meaning than it should at this moment.

Another day, Kai tells himself, as he watches as you take the fry with a small smile and eat it, while nodding your head towards the direction out of the parking lot.

And when that day comes, he promises to himself that he’ll be there to keep you safe at all times; to be happy like a feather.

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#kvanity #k-labels #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt angst #txt drabbles #txt x reader #hueningkai #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai drabbles #hueningkai x reader

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padfootagain · 9 months

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Drummers

Hello lovelies ! Today we’re taking a look at an anonymous request: “Look, I have been watching videos on youtube of Ben's concert in December, and I immediately came with this idea for a fic and I have to share it you with. Imagine Ben being super excited and he wants you there, cause you're his girl and he loves you and he wants to share this moment with you. But you have to attend some family business outside LA a few days earlier the show and you're not sure you're gonna be able to make it. This makes him a little sad BUT it turns out you're able to make it. And you show up without telling him cause you want to surprise him, so you stay in a corner just watching him perform and at some point while he's singing a song he spots you and he's so happy like can't stop smiling the rest of the show 💗💗💗”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you like the fic I’ve written for you!

I hope you all enjoy this adorable little piece! Tell me what you think about it!

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: Extreme fluffiness. Rotten teeth guaranteed.

Summary: Ben is excited by his upcoming concert. Sadly, you can’t come to the show. Or well, he thinks you can’t come. After all, you wouldn’t miss this moment for the world…

Word Count: 2119

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You knew Ben was disappointed, although he wasn’t clearly showing it. It was written in the dulled glimmer in his eyes, in the tightness of his smile, in the sadness of his slight frown.

As you gave him yet another tender kiss, before you would climb in your car to drive home to your parents’, you made sure to show him how much you loved him. How much you cared. How much you wanted to stay.

“Be safe on the road,” he admonishes, voice tender and yet worried. “Call me once you’re home.”

“Of course. I’ll text you.”

“You can call…”

You chuckled at that.

“You just want an excuse to hear my voice?” you teased him, not realising how right you were.

“Exactly.”

He held you in a tight hug, one last embrace before you must leave for a whole week. It was your cousin’s birthday, you needed to be there. Meanwhile, Ben would be busy preparing his concert at the Troubadour.

You hated yourself for not being there, for coming home only the next day, but if Ben was disappointed, you knew he wasn’t bitter or angry. He had been the one to insist that family was more important than his concert. You needed to leave, be there for them. He would sing again, you could come to his next show. And you knew he was right, that he was rational about all this, and so you had packed your things the day before and now… now you were about to leave. It was the rational, logical thing to do. The right thing. It didn’t erase the sadness in his black eyes though…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one more time in his ear.

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“I won’t be here for the concert…”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. You wanted to come, that’s enough for me. As long as you’re proud of me, that’s all I need.”

“Of course, I’m proud of you, Ben. I’m so proud.”

You pulled away, just enough to stare at him, to tenderly hold his face in your palms.

“Don’t use your most ridiculous dance moves. And don’t be too charming, or I’ll have to be jealous over all these people fainting because of your extreme hotness.”

He laughed, bright and loud and earnest, fondly shaking his head.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to upset you,” he answered, mischief painted all over his features. “But then again, I can hardly help it…”

“You’re so cocky these days!”

“You’re the one flattering me!”

“I’m complimenting you. You’re very handsome. And you’ll do amazing for your concert, I know you will. So, no need to worry yourself too much, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

You stared at each other for a moment longer, stealing seconds, wrapping your embracing frames in silence in an attempt to slow down time. But there was nothing you could do…

“I need to go,” you whispered, at long last.

“Be careful.”

“I will be.”

“Have a nice time with your family.”

You nodded, feeling tears rising to your eyes, and you looked away to withhold them.

You tried to run away, but Ben held you tighter, quickly moved his hands to hold your face and bring it closer so he could lean down to your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you too, baby.”

“I’ll see you in a week. Or well, actually… I’ll see you in six hours, on the phone.”

You laughed, brushing away a tear before it would fall.

“I was supposed to text you, then call you… and now it’s a full on videocall you’re asking for!”

“What can I say? I can’t live without you.”

You exchanged one last tender smile before you climbed inside your car. You noticed that Ben watched as you left, standing still until your car was out of the parkin lot, out of the street, and at long last, out of sight.

And he missed you already…

Ben was nervous before going on stage. He was used to talking to crowds, and yet… yet this was totally different.

A mix of apprehension and excitement was turning his stomach into tight knots, nausea rising in his throat. And yet, he kept on smiling to his friends, to this wonderful crew of people who seemed crazy enough to believe in him. And beyond his nerves, Ben was unbelievably happy. Singing at the Troubadour, it wasn’t nothing. To a crowd that had come to see him… He couldn’t be more grateful.

The only saddening detail was that you were not here. He had called you this morning, you had wished him good luck, you had encouraged him, repeated over and over again how proud of him you were, and Ben used these words now as a mantra before going on stage. Still, he wished you could be here. He wished you could give him a hug and a kiss, and straighten the collar of his shirt with this proud glint shining in your eyes, the way you did whenever he went to premieres. He wished for one of your bright smiles, one last peck on his lips and a quick I love you whispered in his ear before letting him go. He longed for your reassurance, your love, your tenderness.

So, he summoned your voice in his mind, a few seconds before going on stage, painting your grinning face on the canvas of his closed eyelids.

One last deep breath. He wished you could be here, slipping away to join the crowd. He would have saved you a spot, so he could know where you were, so he could find you back in the crowd…

But you were hundreds of miles away, spending one last evening with your family before coming back to LA to join him. You weren’t here…

But all these people were here. And even if you couldn’t see him on stage tonight, he had to make you proud. He had to sing these songs as if he sang them to you. He could do that…

He opened his eyes, and stepped onto the stage.

It was so loud, he was quite blinded by the light but he grinned all the same. And he loved it. As he started singing, as he chatted a little with the crowd, he adored every second of it. Sharing his love for music, hearing people sing along the songs he had written, seeing them dancing and clapping along… it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

He was having a blast, but there was something strange on his right, second row. He couldn’t see clearly because of the lights and the moving crowd. But there was someone there, who looked very much like you.

It couldn’t be you, he knew that. It couldn’t be, and yet, every time he glanced in that direction he was certain to recognize your hair, to see this shirt of yours he liked so much…

Between two songs, he seized the opportunity to take a closer look, reaching for his bottle of water to take a short break. He focused, focused and… he almost chocked on his water.

Because it was you. You were there. Right there, second row, lost in the crowd on the right side of the room, with the brightest and proudest grin plastered on your face and… it was you. You were there. You had come.

Ben’s grin was unparalleled, you couldn’t remember ever seeing a smile so bright, so full of radiance, so full of love.

When he turned to his microphone again, he needed a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts. There were too many questions swirling in his head: when had you left your family? When had you arrived? What on earth were you doing here altogether?

The rest of the show went brilliantly, to him it was a blur of adrenaline, lights, music and happiness, and exhilarating feelings that made his heart beat too fast. It passed in a blur, over too soon, and yet, he was exhausted when he finished his last song. After he had spotted you, he couldn’t help but glance at you often, to turn towards you to sing the most romantic lyrics, to look for validation in your gaze. You offered him pride and love every time his eyes landed on your frame…

Despite his exhaustion, Ben was too excited to rest right after the show was over. He was congratulating his band, and enjoying a well-deserved drink, but he also kept on looking around, searching for you. And his friends laughed at him for it, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He was too excited to see you for that…

Because, for sure, you would come backstage, right? You wouldn’t go straight home… or was it all but a dream? A sort of hallucination caused by the excitement and all the adrenaline coursing through his veins?

No, it was real, indeed. Indeed, you were appearing again before him, wearing this shirt he adored, looking dishevelled after dancing all night long, the brightest grin on your lips. And it was a little rude for Ben to simply leave the group he was chatting with a second before, but he could hardly help it. As he bolted towards you, glass forgotten on a random box, no one held it against him either. The second he saw you standing there, he was sprinting down the corridor to catch you in his arms, lifting you up as you laughed.

“You’re here!” he whispered, voice made no more than a shaky breath out of emotion. “What are you doing here?!”

You tightened your hold on him, your cheek pressed to his.

“I left my parents’ place early. I couldn’t be away and miss this. You were amazing, baby! I’m so proud of you!”

You felt him grinning against your skin as he pressed kisses on your cheek and temple.

“You liked the show? Did you have fun?”

“I had so much fun. And the show was amazing. You did so good!”

At last, he gently put you down on the ground, pulling away just enough to stare at you, adoration painted all over his features. And you looked at him with the same love in your gaze and smile.

“Thank you so much for coming. It means so much to me…”

“I know. That’s why I had to come.”

“Wasn’t your family upset?”

“No, they weren’t. I simply came a day early. I left this morning, arrived in LA a couple of hours before your show.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“It was worth it. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

“I didn’t use any ridiculous dance move, I hope you’re proud of me for that.”

You exploded with laughter, and he soon joined you.

“I’ve noticed, and I’m very proud indeed. However, you didn’t tune down the hotness, I’m very upset.”

“Upset? Really?” he teased you, trying hard to hide his amusement but failing.

“Of course. Even more because I’m far from immune to it, so… I did find you very hot up there. I have to say, it was hard to handle a couple of times.”

He laughed, a mess of blushing cheeks, hiding behind his hand as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Well, that’s the advantage of being my girlfriend. All the fantasies you’ve imagined during my show can come true once we’re home.”

You couldn’t look at him as his voice dropped an octave, as the flirt was so heavy on his suave tone, as he stared at you with too much intensity despite the blush on his cheeks… the smooth, adorable bastard…

“Can’t wait to go home, then,” you whispered. “But first, I need to congratulate your band. They were all amazing.”

“They are brilliant,” he nodded, turning towards the band again.

“Especially the drummer, he’s very sexy. Do you think he’s single?”

“Since when do you have a thing for drummers?”

“Since forever.”

“How come I didn’t know that?”

But you raised a teasing eyebrow.

“Why do you think I’m dating you? Because you’re a drummer, obviously.”

He let out a bright laugh.

“I barely play these days!”

“Well, here is a complaint for you. I need more drumming content in my love life.”

“It sounds awfully naughty when you put it like that.”

“Well, you said that all my fantasies could come true… I’ll wait for this part.”

“How could I disappoint my lovely girlfriend? I guess I’ll have to find a way to play more often.”

When he offered you a glass of beer, you raised it to a cheer, a mischievous grin on your lips.

“To the drummers!”

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Taglist : @sergeantbuckybarnes @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes oneshot #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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honkytonk-hangman · 1 year

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How It's Done (1/2)

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Aviator!Reader

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!!!

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