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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up.

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em! 💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites.

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him.

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself.

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings.

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them. The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day.

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back.

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.”

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now.

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer.

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins.

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head.

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you.

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat.

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.”

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table.

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.”

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom.

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

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glassartpeasants · 8 months

Text

Deny Your Feelings

Trafalgar Law x Assassin!GN!Reader

Warnings: small angst, mostly fluff, blood, mentions of death Grammarly said it was fine so i say its fine

~~~

For a government that prides itself itself in getting the job done by killing pirates, they sucked at it behind the scenes. Which is where you come in.

You were a high-end assassin for the world government. They called you when they deemed the target too dangerous for basic marines and too unpredictable to send out admirals.

No matter the pirate, you always got the job done. The payout was great each time, but it did get boring. Same thing over and over again. Join the crew, gain their trust, kill the Captain, then the crew, take the treasure, go to an island, set the ship on fire and finally go back to the higher-ups. Every single ‘crew’ you joined was nothing but rude, rowdy pirates who stole from the weak and treated people like trash. So you never had any problems taking their lives. So when you got a call about a new job, you figured it’d be the same old same old, but as soon as the pirate's name was revealed, you knew you finally had a challenge.

Trafalgar Law, aka The Surgeon of Death.

You’ve heard many stories about him, mostly bad ones, but stories nonetheless. He was Captain to the Heart Pirates and has a bounty of 200,000,000 berri’s. His bounty was the highest you’ve ever been sent after. You’ve never had to deal with a million berri’s man, so to be hired for such a feat almost felt like a gift. It was thrilling to be sent on such a mission, finally something to spice up such a monotonous cycle.

You couldn’t wait for the job to start.

~~~

“Everyone, this is (Y/N). They’re a new member of the crew, so treat them like you would anyone else.” Waving to everyone, you smile brightly before speaking.

“Nice to meet you all!” Not even seconds later, a giant polar bear runs up to you. Its outfit is orange compared to the common grey ones.

“Wow! It’s been so long since we’ve had someone new! I’m Bepo! Where are you from?” You were taken aback by its complete ability to speak as you had never seen something like it.

“I’m from the North Blue. What about you, big guy?” Everyone started to gather around you and began to ask questions about you. You told them the truth for the most part while still sprinkling some lies in to avoid suspicion.

“I need you guys to show them around. I have to get back to my studies.” Law voices rang in your ears as you turned your sight to him. Even though you’ve seen multiple pirates, there was something about the surgeon of death. His eyes seemed so hypnotizing, and the way his tattoos looked against his skin had you struggling not to ogle. He was a handsome man, truly, but his bounty poster didn’t nearly do him enough justice. It was a shame he was a pirate. If he wasn’t, you would have totally made a move. But alas, the universe had other plans and made him a pirate.

A dangerous one at that. Killing him would be no easy task. His devil-fruit abilities were a force to be feared. No doubt he had haki, too. Truly a formidable opponent.

“No problem, Captain!”

“Thanks. Now, get ready to submerge.” Law’s last words had your stomach dropping.

“Submerge?...” A slight grin cracked his face.

“Yep, 450m under the surface.” A look of horror crossed your face, causing Law to stifle a laugh. You make a dash to the nearest window, and your heart sinks as you watch yourself descend to the deep. Being on a ship? Fine. You were above water. But below water? 450m down in Sea King waters? The thought of being in a metal-enclosed space had your blood freezing.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

~~~

Ever since entering the Polar Tang, you’ve done your best to distract yourself from how deep you were underwater. Cleaning, exercising, playing games with the crew, and getting to know their routines. Currently, you're making yourself a snack. Onigiri, to be exact. You’ve been cravigning it since joining the Heart Pirates and just now have the motivation to make it. You hummed a tune while dancing lazily as you finished the onigiri. The sound of footsteps approaching goes unnoticed as you are too enveloped in your own world to notice them.

“Having fun?” Law’s voice broke you from your trance, causing you to yelp and turn to face him. Your face felt as if it were on fire with how embarrassed you were.

“Jesus! You scared me! How long have you been standing there?” You fiddle with your fingers before turning around to try to finish the onigiri quickly so Law doesn’t see how flustered you are.

“Long enough.” You could feel his gaze burn from behind you. It made you unbelievably nervous. There was no doubt he was studying you. What if he knew who you were? He’d kill you for sure!

“What are you making?” Law’s monotone voice returns, and you feel yourself slightly calm down.

“Oh? Just some onigiri. Would you like some Captain?” Turning around, you see a small pink dust on his cheeks. Did you embarrass him or something?

“I…Just ate, but thank you.” You nod your head before sitting down at the table to eat.

“It’s my favorite, so I thought I should share something that makes me happy.” This was a true statement regardless of whether Law was a pirate or not. It did give you the idea to kill him via poison. If you made food and poisoned it and fed it to everyone, they’d all be dead without a fight. But you heard about all the powers Law’s devil fruit can do, so that plan was shut down before it could even come to fruition. Him also being a doctor makes things only 10x harder. The plan needed to be perfect for it to work. No room for mistakes.

~~~

If only you could use your governmental status right now. The Marines shooting you were pissing you off. While it’d make your job easier if they hit the crew members, you wouldn’t get all the pay if they shot Law. And that would not stand.

“Captain! More just arrived!” You and Law both turn your heads as you see more Marines approaching.

“There must be a base nearby if they keep coming like this. I don’t wanna deal with an admiral, so let’s go. Everyone to the sub!” Following Law’s orders, everyone makes a break for the Polar Tang.

“It’s like they're randomly spawning! They're coming out of nowhere!”

“Welcome to the pirate life newbie.” You can hear the smirk in Law’s voice as he runs right beside you. Despite trying to focus on running, your eyes move in Law’s direction. Even though he looked exhausted, he moved with such precision. The way a small bead of sweat rolled down his face made a slight burning feeling appear on your face.

‘No! He’s a pirate! Get your head in the game!’ Shaking your head, you return to making your running your top priority. You wouldn’t get money if you were dead.

Bullets whip past you and Law, making your heart jump in your chest. You’ve been shot before, but it felt different coming from your own team. Usually, the sound of Marines yelling didn’t bother you, but now it gave you an intense feeling of unease. You haven’t even been a ‘pirate’ for 3 months, and you're already starting to despise them!

Moving your head to the side, you catch a Marine aiming straight for Bepo. Your eyes widen as you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you run towards the bear. Dread filled your heart as you feared for the bear's safety.

“Bepo! Look out!” Without a second thought, you push the bear out of the way. The gunshots echoed in your ears before a stinging pain hit your shoulder. You could see the worst possible outcome if you weren’t there even seconds later.

“Fucking A! Damnit, whatever. Bepo, hurry, let’s go!” You grab the bear's paw and begin to drag him to the polar tang. The pain in your shoulder had you biting your lip until blood appeared from your bite's sheer force. While it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been shot, this one felt so much more painful. You can feel blood seep into your uniform as you try running faster.

“(Y/N) your bleeding! A lot!” Bepo’s voice rang in your ears as you finally looked down at your wound. He wasn’t kidding when he said a lot. Almost your entire shoulder was drenched in the red substance.

“Now’s not the time to worry about it! Our priority is getting back to the Polar Tang! I can see it from here, so don’t stop now, alright?!” Bepo’s worried face is replaced by a serious one as he continues to run. The yellow metal of the sub gives both of you determination to run faster.

Once getting on the dock, you have Bepo jump in first before yourself. An action you ask yourself for. In fact, you were questioning why you saved him in the first place? If he died, that’d be one less nuisance to kill later. That and you wouldn’t have been shot! You wouldn’t be currently bleeding out if you just left him to die. Yet, the thought of the bear getting hurt made your heart burn.

~~~

The event’s of earlier replayed in your mind as you sit in the infirmary. As soon as the Polar Tang went under the waves, you rushed yourself to the infirmary so you could fix your shoulder.

While yes, your ‘Captain’ is a doctor, the last thing you want is to owe him. Not to mention he was too busy setting course for the next destination. You didn’t have the time to wait. So you were gonna do it yourself, it’s not like people would come looking for you. That being said, you grab all the supplies you need and begin your own health care. It couldn’t be that hard.

“Damn bullet. Just get out already.” Putting your gloved finger in the wound, you try to fish out the bullet. A hand towel between yoru teeth as you bit down in pain. How can something be so difficult?! It’s a metal cylinder for chirsts sake! Why can’t you find it?! The lack of success made you aware of how much more blood you’ve lost. Your gloved hand is covered in it and ran down your arm. A weary feeling fills your body as you can feel yourself growing tired. Which even you know is not a good sign.

“Yeah, they're in here, Captain!” The sound of hurried footsteps catches your attention as the infirmary door opens. The figure of Law and Bepo enter your vision. You should have known Bepo would tell him.

“Jesus (Y/N)-ya! What are you thinking?!” The way his voice reprimanded you made you unintentionally lower your head.

“I just didn’t want to bother you since you were busy.”

“I’m your Captain, and as your Captain, it’s my job to make sure my crew stays okay! That means fixing them when their hurt! Never do this shit again, understand?” Looking away from him with a lowered head, you respond.

“Yes, Captain.”

~~~

You were currently sitting in the crew bunks reading a book, trying to ignore the pins and needles in your shoulder and your heavy heart. It shouldn’t affect you as much as it is, but when Law yelled at you, you felt ashamed. The fact a pirate could make you feel this way pissed you off. How can a simple pirate crew influence your emotions to where you took a bullet for one of them? No matter how hard you tried to focus on the book you were reading, your agonizing thoughts kept running rampant.

Yet just as you were about to put the book away, theres a knock at the door.

“Hello?” Waiting to see another crew member, you were shocked to see Law standing at the door frame staring at you.

“Do you need something, Captain?”

“Bepo told me you took the bullet for him. Is that true?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want him to get hurt after I saw a Marine aiming at him.” Law said nothing as he looked at your bandaged shoulder.

“How’s it feel?”

“Like a bullet wound.” A small chuckle left his lips as he stared at you before going silent.

“Sorry for not telling you about it. You were already busy, so I didn’t want to add more trouble to your plate.”

“I apologize for yelling; Bepo wanted to say thank you, but he felt too bad to say it in person.”

“I’ll have to tell him it’s no problem. But it’s sweet of you to help him.” Law looks away as he puts his hand on his neck. He couldn’t have you seeing how your words made his cheek show a slight pink.

“Also, I have a question. Or, well, a request, really.”

“What is it?”

“I was wondering when, or if you have the time, you could teach me some basic first aid and CPR? I just would like to help in case someone got hurt on the battlefield. Like a field medic who can take care of their own.” Law’s heart did a small flip as you looked at him. You’ve only been a Heart Pirate for 3 months, and you’ve already taken a bullet for a crewmate, made meals more than half the time, always cleaned, and now you're making an effort to try and help him and your crewmates even more?

How can someone be so caring to people they barely know?

The thought of being alone with you, having you watch him in awe made his fingers twitch. It annoyed him. Why did you have this ability to have him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in years? Was it your eyes? You voice? What was it about you that had Law’s heart skipping a beat? How could he feel this way about someone he’s only known for 3 months? If he was smart, he’d say that he was busy and that he didn’t have the time to teach you.

“I’m free now so get up and let’s go.”

~~~

The moonlight was just bright enough that you were able to read your notes late into the night while everyone else was sleeping. Ever since you asked Law to teach you about first aid and CPR, you’ve been taking notes on everything he teaches. You didn’t want to forget anything. Even if you’d never admit it, you caught yourself looking forward to the lessons.

Penguin told you thathe’s never spent this much time with a crewmate before. That you’ve been the only one to actually get him out of his office. Knowing that made your blood run faster. It was both good and bad. You were getting him to trust you, it’d be easier to kill him if he lowered his guard around you. But on the other hand, your heart started to constrict every time you thought about killing him. That you looked forward being next to him. You could feel yoru face burn each time you saw a smirk on his face.

His beautiful face.

Slapping both hands to your face, you try to get rid of the thoughts that dared to threaten your mission. He was a pirate, you were a assassin hired by the world government to kill him. The things you began to feel for him was simply unacceptable. You couldn’t fall for a pirate.

The urge to read your notes was now gone, making you put them under your bunk. You didn’t want to think about anything that involves the man poisoning your heart. Grabbing your covers, you pull them over your head, hoping that no one would see the conflicted look on your face as your plagued with thoughts about the man only two doors down.

~~~

The kitchen was nice and quiet this time of night. Perfect time to simmer in your thoughts and write down all the information you learned from Law. You even bought all sorts of notebooks, pencils, highlighters, and anything you could think of that would help you keep track of things. It does help keep your mind occupied so you forget that your underwater. Even though you were internally screaming at yourself for putting in so much effort to make Law proud, you try tto ration that learning things like this could help you in the long run.

Reaching out, you grab the onigiri that you had prepared earlier and take a bite. The flavors making you lose focus from your notes as you smile. Eating the food always made you happy not matter how shitty the day was. You even had some tea to keep you awake. A perfect combination. Favorite food, great drinks and drawing your Captain all over your notes.

Wait.

Your eyes widen as you coke on your food. Rubbing your watery eyes, you see your hand just above a drawing of Law. Your eyes scan the entire page and all you can see is drawings upon drawings of Law werre scattered anywhere there was free room. Speechless, you quickly put down yoru food and start searching for a big eraser. You needed to erase them right away before anyone saw. Erase them before you could continue to think about him.

Desperately trying to get rid of the drawings, you end up ripping the paper. Looking down, you could feel your heart slowing downseeing the crumpled up paper, no longer containing Law. His face comeptely erased from the notes. You drop the eraser before rubbing your face. Even when your not thinking about him, you are! How dare he make you feel this?!

You went to grab your unfinished onigiri but decided against it. Not wanting to taint your favorite food by thinking of a pirate.

“Damn pirate…”

“What are you doing awake?” Law’s voice had you jumping in your seat. You quickly turn the page of your notebook so he won’t see the sins you drew. Even if they were already erased.

“Could ask the same for you, Captain.” You joke with the man as he stifled a chuckle.

“Working. Came for coffee.”

“Ah. I’m working on notes for the things you’ve been teaching me. It’s just quieter at night to study. Also easier to make food and tea without worrying about it being stolen.” Law looks down and sees a perfectly made onigiri next to you.

“You can have one if you want. I don’t mind sharing…if it’s with you.” Law watches you move the plate closer to him. He could feel his heart skip a beat. Normally he’d not be one to eat food this late at night, but what could one hurt?

“Thanks.” Grabbing the food, Law takes a bite. His eyes widen upon the taste. Never in his entire life has he had onigiri this good.

“Is it bad?” Realizing he’s been quiet and seeing your saddened face, Law quickly swallows the food and begins to speak.

“No, not at all. I’ve just…this is really good.” He could see his words immediately lifting your mood. Whether he said it or not, your smile had him struggling not to smile back.

“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you like it, Captain.” Law looked down at the scattered notes. A small part of him was amazed at how serious you were about it. Another part told him that he needed to get back to work. Yet the voice telling him to stay was much louder, and thankfully, he had the perfect idea.

“I’m giving you a pop quiz.”

“What?! You never said anything about a quiz!”

“That’s why it's called a pop quiz. Now put your notes away." You can see the almost invisible smirk Law had. Grumbling, you stack your things neatly and place them far away. Your annoyance soon fizzled out when he sat right next to you.

“First question. What does ABC mean in first aid?”

“Easy. Airway, breathing, and circulation.” Law nods, and you can see him thinking of the next question.

“Injury caused by rubbing or scrapping of the skin?”

“Abrasion.”

“Correct.” You watch as Law grabs another onigiri. The sight of him wanting another one made your heart jump. He liked them enough to eat a second one? You had to keep yourself from gushing. He’s a pirate. No gushing over some dangerous pirate!

“A method of prioritizing treatment?”

“Triage.”

“Good job (Y/N)-ya.”

Maybe being in the company of a dangerous pirate wasn’t so bad.

~~~

Two arms wrap around your waist while you feel something bury in the crook of your neck. The smell of breakfast was easily over powered by the muck of the man holding you close. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair under his hat. A sigh came from teh man and you smile as it fans against your skin.

“What’s got you so loving? I thought you didn’t like PDA?”

“I don’t. Everyone's gone.” Short words, yet it’s all you need to know. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you had you feeling an overwhelming sense of safety engulf you. You intertwine his fingers with his before gently rocking side to side.

“I’m so happy that I get to see the most handsome man in the world every day. And that he’s all mine.” Your words cause Law to hide his face deeper in your neck, but you can still see his ears a light pink.

“I’m happy that you're with me, too.” He whispers against your skin. Turning your head, you place a kiss on the brim of his hat. You watch as Moves his head to look at you. His eyes travel to your lips before he moves closer to your face-

“Everyone up! Time to dock and grab supplies!” Your eyes shot open when Penguin's voice broke you from your slumber. All your crewmates grumble as they begin to change and get ready for the day, yet your stuck in bed. The dream replays in your mind like a broken record. Lifting your fingers to your face, you gently brush your fingertips against your lips. If Penguin didn’t wake you up, would he have kissed you?

Your heart has never beat more faster as you simply think about the dream. It felt so real. What’s worse is that you wished you finsihed the dream.

Frustration and anger fill your body as you feel tears slip down your skin. Clenching your teeth, you try to yell at yourself internally. Tell yourself that what you feel is wrong! That you’d rather die than fall in love with a pirate!

‘Stop! You can’t fall in love with him! Get your shit together (Y/N)!’ You yell at yourself as you groggily get ready to dock. Maybe if you breathe fresh air, you’ll realize that your thinking like a fool/ A change of scenery is what you need. It’ll help you realize what your really here for.

To kill the Surgeon of Death.

~~~

You follow Law and the rest of the crew in town to grab supplies and maybe rob a store or two. Whatever, it’s not like it matters. Not when this is the last stop that Law will ever see. There's a half-ass plan you came up with in your head when you got ready to leave the Polar Tang. It’s not perfect but it has to do. You couldn’t risk being next to him anymore. Simply being near him made your body crazy. Hearing his voice made your heart flip, and looking at his eyes made your legs weak. Without even knowing, Law had your heart in the palm of his hand.

“Okay, everyone. We’re splitting into groups.” You try to ignore his voice but still listen to where your group would be.

“Me and (Y/N)-ya will be going west of town. Everyone got it?” If you could, you’d disappear on the spot. The universe has to be screwing with you. Truly a cruel joke it was playing.

Everyone separates, leaving Law and you alone. You quickly try to hide all the negative emotions and put up a happy front. Walking closer to Law, his smell hits you like a sack of bricks. You desperately try to seem unfazed, but you can feel your legs weaken.

“Anywhere, in particular, Captain?”

“Bookstore.” You blink at him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Your getting textbooks.” You pout at his words. It’s a shame since they’d be useless after today.

“That and I overheard you talking to yourself, saying you like to read books to help with your insomnia.”

BA-DUM

“Y-Yeah, I do. Aren’t you gonna get something for yourself as well?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“So we're going just for me?” Law’s eyes widen as your face burns.

“Sleep is important. You need it to be healthy, and you already do a lot more than your fellow crewmates.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Law nods, and you both make your way to the bookstore. Despite your outer emotions, inside, you were screaming. How could he hit you with such an act? He’s acting like he cares about you. What if he did? He’s acting like you mean more to him than just a crewmate. But that can’t be possible. Pirates are ruthless. They don’t care about love and things like that.

Law was a pirate, nothing more to it.

~~~

“Did you choose the biggest textbooks cause you could?!” Your complaining as you carry the heavy textbooks only made him smirk. If you weren’t holding all your books, you’d jump him.

“Perhaps.” A gasp leaves your lips as you stop in your tracks.

“Your lying!”

“Who’s the one carrying the textbooks?” You were speechless at his audacity. He seemed to think your reaction was funny as the men let out a laugh. So quiet that you almost couldn’t hear.

BA-DUM

His laughter made your blood run hot as your heart beat against your ribs. How can laughter make you such an utter blubbering mess. The laughter of a pirate sounded more beautiful then any other laugh you’ve ever heard. It was something your heart wanted to listen to on repeat.

Suddenly, a drop of water falls from the sky and on your nose.

“Rain?”

“If it is, then we should get back to the Polar Tang. The textbooks could be ruined.” Nodding your head, you walk next to Law as you both hurry to get out of the rain.

~~~

Finally making it to the Polar Tang, you stop outside. The rain pelting against your skin did nothing to distract you from the scattered junk that's running through your mind. It was quiet on the way to the sub, and you hated it. It left you in your conflicted feelings. How would you finally get the opportunity to kill him? How your heart screamed that what you felt was real but you knew better. You were more strong-willed than that-

“I’m glad you joined.” A voice so soft and quiet broke the silence. It had your eyes widening and your heart freezing.

“What did you say?”

“You can see the pink appear on Law’s cheeks as he repeated himself.

“I’m glad you joined.” His final words made you bite your lips as tears began to form in your eyes.

BA-DUM

CRACK

You fall to your hands and knees as sobs begin to escape your lips, and you can no longer deny what you feel. No amount of lying to yourself could work anymore. You had failed your mission. A mission you gave a year of your life to. You had fallen in love with Trafalgar Law, and there's nothing you could do about it.

“You shouldn’t be…”

“(Y/N)-ya? What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t deserve to be called a Heart Pirate!”

“(Y/N)-ya, what's wrong?” The sound of worry and confusion in his voice only made it worse.

“Just kill me. I can’t handle these feelings! It’s not fair to you and the crew!”

“I’m not going to kill you (Y/N)-ya! Now what the hell is going on?!-”

“I’m an assassin sent by the world government to kill you!” Your head was touching the ground, and your soaked uniform clung to your skin. A sickly silence covered the two of you before you continued to confess.

“But I can’t! I can’t do it! The thought of anything bad happening to you makes me sick! It makes my heart burn to think about you in any pain!” Hiccups soon accompany your sobs as your hair starts sticking to your face.

“The thought of living in a world without you is hell! Ever since I’ve met you, my heart has beat faster than it ever has! Seeing you everyday and being near you everyday makes me so happy and i could never be happier!”

“I love sharing food with you! I love spending time with you! I love listening to your voice and laughter! I love you, Trafalgar Law! I love you so fucking much that I’d rather die than live without you!” Law’s still silent, and it only makes you ramble more.

“I know you don’t feel the same and I don’t deserve for you to feel the same! You deserve someone who wouldn’t lie to your face for a year! I deserve nothing! I don’t deserve to dream about you! I don’t deserve to imagine holding your hand or holding you close! I don’t deserve to dream about kissing you…” Sobs echo in your ears as your vision blurs. You could barely breathe as the tears kept flowing.

“Please, Captain…just kill me. I’m a traitor who deserves to die. I failed you and used your kindness selfishly. Now I can’t imagine a world without you and a world without you is a world where i’d rather die. So please, Law, stab me, poison me, just do something! I’ll take whatever punishment you give me with open arms as it’s all I deserve…” Hugging yourself, you can’t hear Law over the now thundering sounds coming from the sky. The rain only started pouring harder and hitting your back like hail. You wait for some sort of pain or the bittersweet embrace of death, yet it never comes.

You didn’t dare look up at Law’s face. You didn’t deserve to.

“(Y/N)-ya.” His voice made your heart split in two.

The tears and sobs distracted you from the sound of crunching grass coming up from in front of you. It’s only when you feel a hand grab your chin and lift it up.

“Get in the sub. We’ll talk about this later. You're going to get sick if you stay out in the rain longer.” Your tears still continue when you feel him grab your arm and pull you to your feet. The sudden action had your eyes widening and your legs shaking.

“B-But…Captain-” Before you could utter a word. A gentle pair of lips connect with yours before leaving. Lasting only a few seconds yet you could still feel the sensation on your lips. The tears still blur your vision, but you ignore them as you feel yourself being led to the Polar Tang.

“It’s Law.”

#one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

194 notes · View notes

joblrcensus · 8 months

Text

it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

#sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes:))#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jan peteh #jure maček #kris guštin #nace jordan

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infriga · 10 months

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Content I wish there was a bit more of in the dbh fandom:

More Content with Connor Markus AND Kara interacting and dealing with shit together, especially in post-game stories. For some reason Kara content is always separate from the other two mains, I wanna see more shenanigans with all 3 of them.

More Connor & Luther interactions. They have so much in common! They can bond over their guilt from being forced to harm other androids before eventually deviating out of empathy! Also they can bond over learning how to not throw themselves into the line of fire at a moment's notice all the time lol.

More Luther content in general. He mostly just gets paired as an accessory with Kara and I wanna see more of him.

More Markus/Josh content. I don't even actually ship them I just think the amount of Mosh content is disproportionately low compared to most other Markus ships. He deserves some ship action too!

More North/Josh content. I DO ship them and the fact that more people don't ship them baffles me considering how much tumblr loves to ship characters who bicker with each other and are treated as polar opposites. Even just some more friendship content with them would be nice.

More Josh content in General. He's an important member of Jericho too but he gets shafted a lot in fics and fanart compared to the other two.

Some ATLA AU content where Markus is the Avatar and Connor is the disgraced Fire Nation Prince hunting him down. C'MON PEOPLE IT'S RIGHT THERE HOW IS THIS NOT MORE OF A THING?! Simon can be the water tribe teacher, Josh can be the earth nation teacher, North can be the Fire Nation teacher, Hank can be Connor's older role model figure who tags along with him and helps him develop his moral compass, Nines can be the terrifying smarter faster stronger younger sibling who also goes after Markus when Connor fails too many times (aka when he lets Markus and other criminal benders escape too many times huehuehue), Amanda can be the Fire Lord (yes I know she's literally an ice queen but you can't tell me she doesn't also fit the sinister manipulative leader character who Connor would be desperate to make proud and live up to her expectations), Kamski can be a former Avatar who shows up to give cryptic advice occasionally. Gavin would be the commander character who constantly gives Connor shit similar to Zhao. IT WORKS SO WELL GUYS. Kara doesn't slot in as well as the others but we can fit her in there somehow, she can maybe be one of the people who moved into that one air temple and repurposed it. It's just kinda wild how well most of the characters/roles would fit the au scenarios so I'm surprised I haven't seen it before when I've seen at least one take on an Avatar AU for almost every other fandom I've been in.

I am aware that I can create more of this content myself but I am currently working on graduating university and getting a job so for now I'm just gonna make a wistful post about it.

#Detroit become human #detroit: become human #Dbh #dbh connor #dbh markus #Rk800 #dbh luther #dbh josh #Dbh kara #Random #This isn't wank or anything more like a Christmas list #Encouragement #Edit: also more Lucy content would be nice particularly Connor & Lucy content I just think they're neat

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albonoooo · 3 months

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Hello I would like to ask about the pirate and siren fic because that sounds interesting? Thank you!

aahhh thank you so much for asking!! out of all my ideas, this is probably the one i wish to be able to execute one day the most!

the idea here is that oscar is part of a pirate crew and they get stuck in nassau on their way to key west (the logistics here are an afterthought, if even that. you'll see in the snippet lmao). oscar seeks refuge on the beach to get away from the hustle and bustle and discovers a siren (lando) lounging on a sandbank. he's intrigued and a little worried cause, you know, sirens are dangerous etc. mAYBE unbeknownst to him, lando has been watching him since they arrived and decided "i want that one" the moment he first discovered him. or something, i'm not sure.

long story short, they eventually interact and, uh, beach shenanigans ensue. the idea fizzles out into very vague suggestions here. the snippet under the cut is sadly the only thing i have written so far. the first two paragraphs were just an attempt at kinda setting the scene and the vibe for future daydreaming. the third paragraph was an attempt at seeing if i'd like a dual pov moment and i think it could be nice?? idk idk idk. for now, this vividly lives in my head.

edit: i just wanted to add that their ship is called victoria because max is the captain and named it after his sister lol.

wip-title game

With each passing day that they are stuck in Nassau, Oscar's hope that their journey will continue as planned dwindles. The sun beats down mercilessly on the harbour and the unbearable heat slows down every movement, animal and human alike, to an unnerving, syrupy inertia. Oscar's body has surrendered to the sizzling midsummer as well, feeling heavy and lethargic, but his mind is racing, one thought more frantic than the next. With every miserably slow hour they waste here on fruitless negotiations, they lose valuable time; they should have left New Providence long ago to reach Key West in time for the meeting with Sargeant.

Oscar sighs, closes his eyes and leans back against the shed he has retreated behind. During their last stopover in Port-au-Prince, they had stocked up on food supplies and all the other necessities; the halt in Nassau was only supposed to last two days and serve as a short break for recuperation and some minimal repair work before they head further north. Instead, the Victoria has now been anchored for a week and Florida seems to be disappearing further and further behind the horizon.

—

The young man on the beach has been looking at him for a long time. Lando has yet to return the eye contact, keeping his head turned towards the sparkling sea despite the excitement buzzing in his veins. He usually enjoys basking in the attention of a handsome sailor, but this one’s heavy gaze is burning into his skin hotter than the blazing August sun. It’s so intense, the dark eyes focused on Lando. If he concentrates enough, it almost feels like a real touch.

#thank you anon!! i love talking about this one #ask games #tag games #emy writes <3 #<- lie. fraud. this is fraudulent activity!!!#landoscar #f1 rpf #f1 fanfiction

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aimeedaisies · 6 months

Text

HRH Princess Anne talks about her new Rustler 44 yacht and love of sailing in Scotland

Article from Yachting World, published 4th December 2014

Elaine Bunting asks Royal Princess Anne and her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence which are their favourite Scottish cruising grounds when they sail their Rustler 44 Ballochbuie.

Scotland is no easy cruising ground. The weather can change quickly. Reaching the more distant islands requires a certain toughness as well as skill, especially if sailing double-handed, as The Princess Royal Princess Anne and her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence usually do aboard their new Rustler 44 Ballochbuie. This is ‘black run’ cruising.

Their favourite places are the more remote islands and anchorages. “To be honest, if we get north of Ardnamurchan it suddenly feels different, and if you go north of Skye other boats almost disappear, and although there are some based up at Ullapool and Stornoway, they are rare,” says Princess Anne.

Asked about some of the places they like to visit, they first mention the island of Coll. “We’ve got some friends who live there,” says Sir Tim, adding: “though is not the most hospitable and the anchorages there are a little bit variable.”

“But it is pretty impressive at certain times of the year,” adds Princess Anne, “particularly up at the northern end, the Cairns of Coll. The northern end is rocky and the southern end is a bit more agricultural and there are lots of geese in the winter. Actually, winter is probably more entertaining – you get snipe and woodcock as well.”

At the mention of anchorages, Sir Tim gets up and goes below to Ballochbuie’s navigation table to retrieve a document that runs to several pages of A4 paper. This is a list of all the places he and Princess Anne have been to during their years of sailing the two Rustlers.

It is a very impressive and comprehensive list stretching from Rathlin Island off the north coast of Northern Ireland as far north as Cape Wrath at the north-western tip of Scotland. The scores of anchorages are carefully listed and account for some challenging pilotage and difficult nooks and crannies. But they seem to enjoy exploring new – and preferably out of the way – spots.

“We haven’t kept a record of how many miles we’ve sailed, but we have kept a record of the anchorages,” says Sir Tim, to which the Princess adds: “Every trip we added one anchorage we hadn’t been to before, at least, and usually two or three. Even if you are going over the same ground there are still places to be found, though fish farms are a bit of a menace. There are places we used to anchor in Bloodhound that you can’t get to now.”

The wildlife and sea life are something they both mention. “We see quite a lot of basking sharks, particularly between Coll and Tiree,” says Princess Anne. “Once I lost count at about 25. That was extraordinary.”

Princess Anne recalls: “We had a rough three days on the way from the Sound of Harris down to Lochboisdale [on South Uist] and saw a big pod of dolphins, which was just extraordinary. They were coming at you from the top of the waves. They didn’t quite jump over the top of the boat, but they looked like they were going to.”

Royal favourites

Lewis: the lochs on the east side are great. There are quite a few places to anchor in Loch Roag.

Shiant Islands: we’ve been there a couple of times in Blue Doublet and a couple of times on [the cruise ship] Hebridean Princess with The Queen.

Loch Ewe: we had an interesting time in fog as thick as I’ve ever known it. There is a wonderful garden to see here as well.

Hermitray: there are some nice anchorages in the Sound of Harris, but lots of fish farms around.

Rona: a favourite spot. One of the most sheltered anchorages on the west coast. A very nice man, Bill Cowie, is the warden.

Skye: we’ve been all round Skye. There are lots more places to visit. We’ve only been to 12 anchorages there!

Eriskay: there’s a fantastic little anchorage here. We went there for the first time in Ballochbuie.

Barra: a marvellous place and a wonderful escape from the world.

Vatersay: good shelter in the lee of a sandbar. We anchored near Vatersay in company with Britannia one year.

Canna, Rum, Eigg and Muck: we enjoy visiting all these islands.

Loch Nevis and Loch Awe: both are lovely places.

Loch Moidart: beautiful, but we’ve only been there once. It has quite a scary entrance, not easy in a long-keel boat and you’re always battling the wind to get out.

Mull: Loch Mingary, Bunessan, the Bull Hole and Ardlanish. A beautiful little spot with shelter on the south side of the Ross of Mull. Carsaig is a little notch you wouldn’t think you could get into or get any shelter at all, but there’s a little reef offshore you can tuck behind.

Lismore: the island in Loch Linnhe. Walking there you get the most beautiful views and you can see as far as Ben Nevis.

Loch Feochan: there is a little place right at the entrance that is great.

Garvellach Islands: lovely, but weather- dependent so it has to be very calm.

Loch Craignish: Goat Island is one of the safest anchorages on the west coast of Scotland, as long as you are able to wash off your anchor; it has the stickiest mud.

Jura: we have visited anchorages all round the coast.

Rathlin Island: fascinating, a bit shallow and we bounced off the bottom there.

#sharing this because it’s a favourite of mine 😍🥰#scotland is so magical #i would really like to visit someday #i loved reading about their favourite spots to visit 🥹#i could listen to their sailing stories all day 🥰#princess anne #princess royal #tim laurence #timothy laurence

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highfantasy-soul · 6 months

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Storylines NATLA Cut

While the 8 episodes of season 1 managed to weave together most of the plot lines (or at least themes from the episodes) from the animated show into the live action, there were a few notable storylines that were cut. I wanted to go over those plots and speculate as to why they might have been cut and whether we might see them in future seasons woven in (like how a couple things from future seasons were woven into this season).

Imprisoned

One of Katara's first big leadership moments was in episode 6 of the animated series when the Gaang stumbles upon an earth nation village taken over by the Fire Nation. All their benders had been rounded up and sent to a prison so that they couldn't fight back - the Gaang obviously get involved, plot ensues, and Katara gets herself arrested so that she can find the prison and free Haru (the earthbender she inadvertently gotten arrested). With the help of Aang and Sokka providing the earthbenders with some coal to bend, she inspires them to fight back and they free the prisoners.

I think this storyline actually naturally fits much better in book 2: Earth. The focus of season 1 of the live-action was water bending and the avatar state - I think a storyline focused on earth bender resistance fits perfectly in season 2 where we get to see even more of how oppressive Fire Nation rule is and how they're 1) seeking to take out all the other benders and 2) doing their whole imperialist thing with stealing natural resources from the populace they're colonizing.

Katara has her moment to speak on her mother with Jet in episode 3 of the live-action and I think it's a natural change to keep the rebellious side-character count manageable for now. Jet fills the role to show Katara's desire for rebellion and standing up to the fire benders and while I think the Imprisoned storyline is really important, I think they've got plenty of room to do that in season 2. A big part of that story was Katara leading people to stand up when they hadn't been before and I think there's a nice homage to that in the final episode of the live-action when she gets all the women in the North to stand up to Pakku and demand to fight.

So I don't think they've fully nixed this storyline, I think they'll include it in the Gaang's trek through the Earth Kingdom on their way to Ba Sing Se. To me, the live action is doing a better job at building the characters rather than starting out with them fully formed. Katara has learned through the first season of the live action about all different leadership styles and has grown emotionally to a point where she's not only confident in standing up against injustice, but also leading others in that fight against oppressors. I think moving her leadership skills from episode 6 of season 1 to season 2 will let us really see her journey to that point rather than just having her start there.

2. The Pirates

In the animated show, Katara doesn't get the Waterbending Scroll until episode 9 of season 1, everything she does with waterbending up until that point was just stuff she figured out herself. In the animated show, the Gaang stops and Katara starts training Aang in waterbending, he shows off and washes all their supplies away so they have to go into town to buy more. This is where Aang randomly buys a bison whistle (why a shopkeeper in the Earth Kingdom would have a bison whistle is not explored) and the group also is invited onto a pirate ship to brows their wares. Katara notices a waterbending scroll and it's far too expensive for them to buy, so Katara steals it from them (as they made it clear they stole it from its rightful owner). A main theme of this episode is showing how naturally gifted Aang is and Katara getting frustrated because she's had to work so hard for her little bit of waterbending and Aang just surpasses her immediately. Zuko and Iroh show up looking for a pai sho piece and shenanigans ensue with the Gaang fighting off both pirates and Zuko, but of course, they manage to escape.

So the two main things in this episode were 1) getting the waterbending scroll so Katara could learn more formal forms and 2) dealing with how the dynamic of the group changes as Aang easily surpasses Katara in waterbending power.

I like that the live action tied the waterbending scroll directly to Katara's family and them hiding their culture to keep it alive until the time came when they could revive it once more. I think it's a much more impactful way for her to get the scroll than just some random pirates. It also allows her to actually train from the beginning rather than just being naturally good - in the live-action, Katara really has to work at her waterbending and get help. While she's a naturally fast learner and super powerful, she needs at least some form of guidance whether that be how to get in the right spiritual mindspace for bending or the physical movements for different forms provided by the scroll. Animated Katara has already been doing very advanced moves (bending water out of Aang's lungs, lifting a fish, throwing water and freezing it, etc) and it doesn't really feel like the animated show continues to show the new stuff Katara learns from the waterbending scroll - it's just the water whip and then the scroll is forgotten (almost like this is an episodic kid's show where each story is largely self-contained and plot points rarely arc into other episodes).

As it's the episode were Aang really starts learning waterbending and they've held off on having that part of his journey in the live action for now, it makes sense that they nixed it. It's a fun character building episode, but in the grand scheme, everything accomplished here can be accomplished elsewhere (and possibly in season 2). Katara feeling a bit miffed that Aang picked everything up quickly while she had to work really hard at it can easily be moved to season 2 when they address Aang learning the new bending styles. I also like how they moved him getting the bison whistle at a random shop in this episode to Bumi having made it for Aang back when they were both kids.

Of course, they do give easter eggs for this plot as well as the great divide one in episode 6 of the live-action, so it's possible the Gaang did have similar adventures, just off-screen.

3. The Fortune Teller

I'm perfectly fine with them nixing the plot of this storyline and moving the themes of 'take destiny into your own hands, don't look to others to tell you what to do without examining their methods of determining your own destiny' and scattering it through the entire season. The hard plot sets up Kataang as a couple which I didn't particularly like, nor did I feel like it followed the actual theme of the episode. Katara is obsessed with believing everything the fortune teller predicted and for part of the story, the lesson is 'that's bull, make your own destiny, just because she said it doesn't make it true' but then when it comes to her marrying a powerful bender, suddenly that lesson is thrown out and she realizes that Aang is a powerful bender so maybe they will end up together? It felt like a lot of mixed messages with the goal of setting up a 12 year old with a 14 year old and like I've said before, I'm not a fan of child romances. Once they turn 15, ok, but 12? No.

4. Aang's part in Bato of the Water Tribe

I think it was a great beat in the animated show to have Aang so afraid that Sokka and Katara might leave him for their "real" family - then have them confirm to him that they're with him all the way. The storyline does hammer home how alone in the world Aang feels and his fear that everyone will leave him either because they have 'family' of their own or his path is just too difficult. While the character beat was good to include, I think it's too big of a character beat to be relegated to only a portion of an episode in the live-action. I think if they want to explore Aang's fear of abandonment, they'll need to spend a good deal of time on it not only because it's a big part of him but also because to this day, some fans haven't forgiven Aang for hiding that map - if they want to do it justice, we're going to need more than a quick blurb to understand Aang's motivations and give the audience time to forgive him.

I'm glad they took Sokka's part of that episode and gave him the spotlight - and the spotlight could remain on celebrating Water Tribe culture rather than having Aang in the background making throwing up faces at everything. I think that the live action can still add in the ideas around Aang's insecurity over Katara and Sokka leaving him to go back to their people, and if they add it into season 2, I think it'll hit even harder after already seeing Bato in that season 1 flashback.

5. Sokka's Strategies

20 episodes in the animated show gave Sokka a lot of opportunity to come up with unique strategies to win in unexpected ways such as using explosives to 'open' the door to Roku's temple, the ventilation shafts to get the coal to the earth benders in Imprisoned, and him tricking the pirates into fighting Zuko and co. While at first, I thought not having so much of that in the live-action was taking away from Sokka's character, on a re-watch, I realized that they didn't remove it, they actually gave the origin for it. Sokka's character journey in season 1 of the live-action was about him accepting that he could be more than 'just' a big strong warrior to help his people, he was allowed to explore his ingenuity too. It's only after he meets Sai the Mechanist that he starts to come up with plans to get them out of situations or form battle strategies. I think it was a great, subtle, way to show Sokka coming into his own and beginning to come up with great plans alongside his warrior skills.

I know some fans of the OG show absolutely love every side quest - and more screen time in plots that aren't all that important give a lot of space for character 'down time bonding' that a tighter story structure just doesn't have room for. I think that most of the animated show's character beats and lessons in each of their episodes was really good (with a few exceptions - one of which in The Great Divide I think the live action actually took and made much BETTER) but when making an adaptation in a completely different format, stuff is just going to have to be left on the cutting room floor.

I LOVE everything the live action added in it's place (expanding Aang and Zuko's conversation during the Blue Spirit section of episode 6, all the Fire Nation royal family stuff, everything about Gyatzo, and Sokka and Katara's spirit visions) so I'll forgive leaving out some beats from the OG. I still think that several of these storylines will make their way into season 2 in one way or another, so I'm holding off on fully declaring them 'nixed' from the live action.

#natla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #natla positivity #atla

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ryverbind · 7 months

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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gilly-moon · 9 months

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Also blackice 👁️👁️

when I started shipping it if I did:

Basically from the moment I first saw the movie in theaters lol.

my thoughts:

So??? Many?????? But hey I already wrote most of them out in a long-ass fanfic aka my love letter to this ship

What makes me happy about them:

That they see bits of themselves in each other. That they understand - really understand - what it means to be lonely and how deeply that can harm someone. That they're both angry in their own right about the situation they've been living in for centuries. That they've experienced love and have loved in return, only to have it cruelly torn away. That they find solace in each other over these things, and bring their own strengths to the table as they connect and heal together.

What makes me sad about them:

The idea that they're in a cycle that may never be broken. Fear and the Shadows will always have their claws in Pitch's back, and even if he tries to break free, he will always be haunted by them. Jack may have the Guardians and believers, but what if those believers fade before they can spread his story? Will he be all alone again, invisible and unable to connect to the children he holds so dear? Will the cycle repeat again?

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Generally just...mischaracterization I think? Sometimes people write Pitch to be way too nice and thoughtful, or Jack to be way too reserved/timid. To each their own, but...them aren't my boys.

things I look for in fanfic:

Possessive Pitch™. It's a requirement. But other than that, I'm generally in one of two moods: bad ending type fics where Pitch is still a Bad Guy and ropes Jack into a relationship willingly or unwillingly, OR mutual recovery fics where they're both trying to heal from the deep wounds isolation has inflicted on them. Bonus points for mention of Kozmotis/Emily.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Hm...I don't think I have any other romantic ships for Pitch. A friendship with Sandy or (a begrudging one) with North would be nice. As for Jack, even though I don't ship it myself and it's technically a crossover, the HiJack artists have successfully invaded my brain with cute af art of those two. Jack & Katherine is also pretty cute.

My happily ever after for them:

'Happily ever after' doesn't quite feel like their brand. They're immortal, after all, so I think they'd define things in simpler terms. But I like to think the point at which they've 'made it' or whatever, is when they're able to rely on each other without question - to be each other's constant in an ever-changing world.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Pitch is big spoon, but Jack probably sleeps in ridiculous positions or ends up laying on top of Pitch instead, so spooning is a rare occurrence.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Genuinely these two are so conversation- and touch-deprived that just spending time together is enough. Whether is chatting on the go while Jack spreads his icy magic across the globe, or just hanging out in Pitch's cave, Jack really likes to talk, and Pitch really likes to listen. I also love in fics when they play board games together ♡

#blackice #rotg #rise of the guardians

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st-just · 4 months

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hi I like your blog. I have a question that may be too personal so no hard feelings if you don't answer but could you talk a little bit about more about what you like/don't like about Halifax? im considering Dalhousie for grad school but have never been! and would like to have as much information about where I might spend the next 2 years of my life. thank you!

Oh sure! Though like, it depends on where you're coming from? Everything here is very relative. And also I'm absolutely certain I will forget numemrous vital things, do ask followup questions.

Most important thing is that the housing market is horrifying - the city's population started booming during COVID and the zoning and construction is only really starting to catch up now. Especially within walking distance of Dal getting a place to live at anything approaching affordable is going to be vicious. (This has unsurprisingly coincided with a large uptick in homelessness. Unremarkable to walk by a tent in a corner of some public park now).

Relatedly, the bus system is like - okay I'm not sure it's notably bad for a mid-sized-ish north american city, but it's damn sure not any better. You can get by bussing around on the peninsula, anywhere beyond 20 minute drives turn into 40-60 minute rides.

You will not have a family doctor, figure out the nearest walk-in clinic you can use for anything non-emergency.

The city's economy runs on some combination of students, tourists, sailors and soldiers. There are as many bars as you might expect (had the most per capita in the country for a while, don't know if we still do). Some of them are actually very good!

Relatedly, weed and liquor are both only legally sold by the crown corporation monopoly and a few weird specialty places.

None of them are massive, but there is a very nice amount of parkland and green space scattered throughout the city. The public (botanical) gardens are really beautiful in the spring-summer, and most are well-maintained (they just renovated and expanded the outdoor pool on the city Commons last year, even).

The waterfront has been thoroughly gentrified for the cruise ships over the course of my lifetime, but it's all still open to the public and grabbing one of the armchairs or hammocks to read in during the summer is lovely.

Provincially the government is the most thoroughly domesticated/red tory party in the country (they fairly literally ran to the left of the liberals). Full of corrupt backslapping, constantly getting into pissing matches with the municipal government, will probably govern for the next decade.

For reasons that I assume are downstream of all the students and having the closest thing to a regional theater scene east of Quebec, the whole city is IME very queer-friendly. For reasons I absolutely not understand, pride is in August here.

The public library system is basically the only part of the municipal government I think anyone involved should be unequivocally proud of, but it is great.

I don't really know the crime stats offhand but like, I left my apartment door unlocked probably 7 times in 10 through all of undergrad and it never bit me in the ass?

#hope any of that helps?#my beloved provincial backwater

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slexenskee · 1 year

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I'm just curious. Can I ask more about JJK/GOT? It’s just that as soon as I saw the Satoru/Robb couple I immediately became interested 😅

Sure haha I have a few plot points I could use feedback on

The backstory is where I'm??

Idk if I want Satoru to be reborn as Viserys and start his life just vibing as a pampered prince kinda ambivalent about his life / couldn't care less about the rebellion or his batshit father until he gets shipped off to Dragonstone and eventually Essos. Then he kinda realizes A) his little sister is literally relying on him to exist and they're situation is pretty rough and B) he has no more fucks to give and now he can really do whatever tf he wants. Kinda goes a bit wild, takes over one of the free cities (casually), gets worshipped by the Dothraki as a god (accidentally), ends up creating something of an empire in the Disputed Lands/takes over the Stepstones and now all the pirates and traders pay him for safe passing like sailors paying tribute to the altars of gods. Mostly he's just bemused by it, and doesn't care what they do so long as they don't bother him or his sister, who's raising her dragons (a gift from Illyrio) and just living a nice happy life.

OR he's not Viserys at all, he legit transmigrates adult body (and powers) and all and becomes a wandering god around Essos just sort of feeling his way through this random new world - definitely goes to Valyria just because he can, makes a fortune selling all the random junk he picks up there and becomes something of a master on the topic just bc he ends up learning so much about it as someone who regularly hangs out there, and one way or another ends up the accidental god of the Stepstones like he is the first scenario. Except this time he's cajoled to Pentos at the behest of Illyrio Mopatis, who wants to know more about the Valyrian freehold, and while he's there he meets Dany and Viserys. Immediately clocks Viserys as a nutjob and Dany as abused but honestly doesn't really care about either of them until he sees the dragon eggs + his Six Eyes see Dany has magic and it's reacting with the eggs. He pays Illyrio/Viserys a veritable king's treasure in exchange for Dany as his 'bride' and gets the eggs as her bridal gift... which he does not bc he wants a bride but bc dragons are, in his opinion, the only cool thing in this world and he wants to have one as a pet and Dany is his ticket to that.

EITHER way he's the god of the Stepstones and Westeros tries to push their weight around and fails regularly. Gojo eradicates probably like 3 Redwyne and Lannister fleets and lets them wash up to Dorne in pieces before Westeros finally gets the picture to leave him the hell alone. Robert Baratheon comes personally a few times mainly because he has a total hard-on for Gojo and frankly just loves the fighting (his adoration is not returned), Oberyn becomes one of his favorite drinking buddies. They probably fuck multiple times, let's be real.

He's not interested in taking over the world or anything - honestly if it wasn't for Dany he'd have like zero purpose for existing so he's lowkey happy to have her in his life, but it's definitely a brother and sister relationship no matter which way I go with his backstory. It's all very wholesome.

By the time we get to S1 Gojo is an undisputed world power that's also something of an eccentric recluse.

He doesn't get involved in the plot until one way or another he's notified of Shit Happening™ in the far north. Idk how yet - maybe he senses it himself, or one of the Red priests/priestesses tells him?

He goes to the wall, meets Jon Snow, learns some of the Northern history, feels bad for the Night's Watch - who are actually doing the lord's work up in this damn place, what is wrong with westeros, smh - and sends men and plenty of food/supplies as he can see the magic in the Wall and knows it's not just there to look pretty. Especially not when his Six Eyes can see that the Land of Always Winter has more magic and is more active than old Valyria. He jokingly propositions Jon Snow, who to his surprise is not actually gay, and then afterwards when he's summarily rejected casually propositions his 'sister' for him instead- who's going through a romance phase and wants a handsome man and Gojo, being a good brother and also a fucking troll, decides to help out. Whether Gojo is actually Viserys or not, at this point everyone assumes he's Valyrian and also related to Dany no matter what he says, so he just rolls with it. Jon still declines, because he's still all up in his duty and honor phase. (He notices Jon has magic, like Dany, but assumes that's just because of the Northern magic)

He becomes fast friends with Maester Aemon, deeply interested in his stories of the Far North. He's actually interested in the North, in general, bc its one of the few parts of the world he hasn't yet gone to, and also has a history that's almost as old as Valyria. The Free Folk are downright unfriendly to him, so he decides to try his luck with Winterfell.

Idk what the route is but basically from the Wall he ends up in The North and finally meets Robb smack in the middle of the War of the 5 Kings. Maybe he goes to Winterfell with a letter from Jon, and then from Winterfell to Robb? Or from Jon straight to Robb? Basically no matter which way he ends up going, he gets a warm intro from one of Robb's siblings (or both). He also gets tasked, by one or both of them, to look for the Stark sisters. Gojo's all like, 'LOL look for them? Bruh I could blast down the Red Keep and drag them out within the next hour, but sure ok I'll 'look' for them). It's especially easy because he realizes all the Starks have more magic than most, so his Six Eyes can pick them out easily.

So Robb and Gojo kind of have immediate chemistry. Robb has obviously heard a lot about him, most of it mysterious, all of it dangerous, so he's shocked when this stupidly good looking guy comes out of literally nowhere (teleports) and has some messages for him, and is also going to go fetch his sisters as a personal favor. That last one he's a bit cautious about, because he's heard plenty about this Valyrian god or devil or both, and he doesn't believe for a second such a powerful being would offer such a boon for free.

Gojo's only response is 'I've got a little sister too ya know, I understand how it feels to be an older brother that wants to see them safe and sound' and Robb's all like, blushy and flustered, but plays the hard line and sort of just dismisses him and denies his help. And Gojo's all like, 'damn this guy's hot' also 'if my gaydar isn't wrong, which it usually isn't, he'd totally be into me' and also 'he'd be even more into me if I really did rescue his sisters'. Which he was going to do anyway.

He obviously finds both of them. Arya gets a free assassination teacher that doesn't come with the price tag of her soul, Sansa doesn't have a tragic few years ahead of her.

Idk haven't figured much else out after that. Robb pines but refuses to act on his feelings, but Gojo is swapped in for Talisa so we all know how this ends. There'll be plenty of consequences for that though, but no Starks are going to be injured (aside from Bran lo siento) in the making of this fic.

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Red Lips, Green Eyes, You're Mine

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: You've been dating a Naval Aviator for a few months when a company shindig finally gives you the opportunity to show him off. It doesn't surprise you at all when a night out turns into a far steamier night in your sheets. What else is a girl to do with a bratty boyfriend?

Warnings: Slight BDSM elements, Dom/Sub agreement, Shibari, This is just PwP, Porn

Word Count: 4346

A/N: This is what happens when an author is on discord and thots are being had. I have no excuses. This is completely self indulgent.

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

You’ve been dating a Navy man for a little over three months. He’s sweet, and you have a lot of fun with him. Jake is a blind date turned into a happy relationship, and you adore being with him. You talk about him so much that your co-workers constantly ask to meet him. But you’ve never had the chance to have him drop by and take you out for lunch or any of the other things you’ve seen your co-workers' significant others do. It’s not like you do anything interesting, after all.

You work for a firm that acquires rare art pieces for your clients and often have to travel to their galleries worldwide, and Jake’s been very busy. Though you live in San Diego, your office is on the opposite end of the city from North Island Naval Base. He’s been exhausted as his official duties have him on base later and later into the day. You’d barely see him if you didn’t let yourself into his apartment off base and wait up for him. Those late nights curled up on his sofa are the most time you’ve spent with him in a long time. Early on in your relationship, too, you had to share him with the Navy and been apart for a month while he was on a ship in the middle of some classified ocean.

You finally get your chance to show Jake off when your company hosts its annual charity gala. It’s the biggest fundraising event of the year, and you’re so excited to share a slice of your world with Jake. Jake’s excited, too, especially since the gala will happen when he’s finally gotten a couple of weeks of leave. It’s been nice having him in your apartment, especially when you wake up in the morning to him in your bed. He’s also sporting a beard right now, the sting of which you still feel on your thighs as you get ready for the gala. You’re standing in just your lingerie and heels as you pull your dress out of the garment bag when Jake wraps his arms around your bare waist.

“You sure you have to wear that, beautiful?” His hands trail down the front of your thighs before rising to cup your lace covered breasts.

“Yup. I have to go. I have clients from Singapore flying in, Jake! I can’t miss it!” His answering grumble makes you giggle, especially when he zips your dress up for you. When you turn around, you can’t hide how wide your own eyes get. Jake looks delectable in the black tuxedo. It accentuates the curve of his slim waist and the bulk of his muscles.

“God, baby doll.” His voice is hushed as you tie his bow tie for him. “You look so beautiful in your dress. It’ll look even better when it’s on the floor later.”

Your voice is a sensual purr as you peck his smiling mouth and murmur in his ear, “Mmmm. Jake, that tuxedo will look just as good joining it on the floor. But, you have to be good, baby. No hanky-panky on the dance floor or overly possessive touches or flagrant PDA. This is still a work event for me. And if you’re a good boy, I promise you’ll like your reward.”

“And if I’m bad?” You can’t blame your rebellious boy for going there.

“Then I’ll make sure it’s a punishment worth remembering. Alright?” His eyes have been tracking your cherry red lips as you speak, his green eyes widening as arousal makes his pupils dilate.

“Yes, ma’am.” You kiss his jaw, careful to avoid lipstick prints on his skin, and collect your clutch. Jake follows along behind you, docile as a lamb, the allure of your reward and your punishment both equally tantalizing. He’s gotten control of himself by the time you get into the car the company has hired and is back to his charming self by the time you reach the venue in the middle of the Mojave Desert. As expected of your firm’s high profile clients, the venue is sparkling with wealth. All the women are dressed to the nines, dripping in diamonds.

It's a whirlwind of schmoozing. You've got your best client smile on as you and Jake work your way through your clients, chatting and laughing. Everyone you speak to is impressed by your Naval Aviator boyfriend, and Jake doesn't hide how proud he is of you, either. During dinner, his left hand is a steady presence on your upper thigh, caressing the bare skin just high enough to drive you wild.

When the party moves to the auction hall, he stands close enough to you that the bulge in his pants brushes against your ass every time you move. Your gown may be voluminous, but you can still feel every inch of how much he wants you. You ignore Jake, hoping the embarrassing boner will fade soon. Unluckily for you, it does not.

It gets so bad that, after the auction, you drag Jake out onto the dance floor, using the scant inches between you both to growl, "I can't believe you're hard right now. I told you to be good, baby. This isn't good. Get yourself under control. Only good boys get rewarded."

After the song ends, you both clap for the orchestra before Jake excuses himself to the bathrooms to take care of his problem. It takes about fifteen minutes for him to come back to you. There are minute droplets of water on his temples, and his face is cool and damp when he presses a kiss on your cheek. You allow the gentle press of lips against your cheek, smiling as you continue your conversation while ignoring how he clasps your hand in his. He squeezes your fingers, a press you return because you know that your baby's already fearing his punishment. In truth, you're not mad, really, just irritated. It takes way too much mental energy to keep socializing with clients. Forget having to deal with a horny man while doing so.

This isn’t even the first time you’ve had to take Jake firmly in hand. There’s a type when one thinks of a Naval Aviator: cocky, confident, arrogant, and in control. You’d found out early in your relationship that sometimes Jake liked to give up a bit of that control. So you’d done a ton of research into Dom/Sub dynamics, and the two of you were working on helping Jake relinquish control in a more formal context. Tonight, you can tell already by how bratty he’s being that he’d like nothing more than to be your baby.

Your suspicion is confirmed in the way he sticks close to you for the rest of the night with his big hand curled loosely in your own and how his smiles are a little more forced. Sadly for your aching baby boy, you can't pay him any attention until you're seated in the back of the car you'd hired for the evening. You give the chauffeur your address and press the button to pull up the divider. The first year you'd gone to the charity gala, you'd been completely blown away by the VIP treatment. But each year you've grown more and more comfortable.

This year, with Jake on your arm, you feel positively wicked. So much so that you crack open the complimentary bottle of Moët and pour out a glass, just one. Your voice is a sensual purr as you sip from the glass before murmuring, "Baby, you had an incident during the auction, didn't you?"

You can see how Jake's eyes contract at your words, his pupils eclipsing the green in his eyes until only a sliver is left as he tracks your tongue as you lick a stray bubble from your lips.

"Tch. Baby boys respond when they're asked a question." You unravel the bowtie, before grabbing it and using the strip of fabric to guide Jake onto his knees on the carpeted floor in front of you. "You had an incident during the auction, didn't you?"

You can see Jake's Adam's apple rise with each swallow as you tug a bit more on the tie.

"Y-yes, ma'am." His voice is strangled and hoarse already. You let the tie go, letting one manicured, red fingernail drag down his throat, tapping lightly on his Adam's Apple as you look appraisingly at him and sip on a bit more champagne.

"And, what, Baby Boy, do you think I should pick as your punishment?" Jake's eyes are blown completely wide now, and you can see him start to drop already. It's a trick question and a game you've played before, so you're glad that he doesn't answer. "How about we try something, hmm? You're going to stay right there on your knees and eat me out. Your goal is to make me cum before we get home without cumming yourself. I don't cum, you get punished. You cum, you get punished. Are we clear, baby?"

“Yes, ma’am!”

Jake's voice is strung out and there's already a faraway look in his eyes as you part the skirt of your gown and let your baby go to town between your legs. The first press of his mouth to your cunt is sloppy as he clumsily, eagerly, laps at you over the fabric of your lacy thong. He’s so ready to make you feel good that you have to pull the fabric away from your heat after a few minutes. Eventually, though, he gets into a filthy rhythm that has your toes nearly curling in your heels. It's obvious that Jake's feeling the heady rush of this encounter as much as you do, because you can see how his hips jerk against the leather seat as he brings you to the brink of your orgasm. Every once in a while he stops to see how you're doing and you have to fight everything to claw yourself back from the edge of your orgasm and look bored as you sip on the bubbly champagne.

As the drive back into San Diego winds down, Jake grows ever more desperate, crooking his fingers up into the spongy spot in you that makes you see stars and sucking on your clit until your juices drip down his chin. You give into your orgasm when the car carcareens over a particularly deep pothole, your thighs clenching tight around Jake's head as he continues to finger-fuck you through each pulsing wave of your orgasm. He finally pulls away and settles your skirts back down right as the car pulls up in front of your building.

You have no illusions that the driver hasn't seen much worse, so you tip the man and walk into your building in the late night air with all the dignity you can muster. Jake's walking carefully behind you, draping his jacket over your shoulders as you walk into the elevator. This late, there isn't another person there so you feel no shame in trailing your fingers over the crotch of Jake's trousers. He's still hard, yes, but there is a tell-tale wet spot on his pants. Your baby came without your permission.

You sneak a look at his face and you can see shame in the blush rising up his cheeks. You pull your hand away from him as the elevator opens on your floor and stride out without a word. There's a creeping tension settling over the pair of you as you unlock the door and step in, Jake following silently behind you. He's well into a submissive mindset already, his broad shoulders rounded and his eyes still blown wide as he stands in the center of your living room and waits.

"Baby, c'mere. Can you get the zipper on my dress, please?" Jake's so far down he just nods, hot hands sliding the zipper down until your dress is pooled around your feet. Keeping your heels on, you step out of the puddled fabric and lay it in your bedroom. When you come back out, your Baby Boy is on his knees in front of your sofa.

You settle into the plush white leather, watching how Jake's eyes track your every move as you part your legs. Thanks to his ministrations, you know your thong is transparent with your release and his saliva. The heat rising to his cheeks has you dipping forward, kissing his lips, licking into his slack mouth until you can taste the whiskey he’s been sipping on all night and your release still mingling on his tongue. He's breathing heavily when you pull away. Your fingers are gentle as you pull open the fly of his trousers. His boxers are wet and sticky, cum staining the fabric as you free his still-hard length.

"Oh, baby." Your voice is disappointed as you pull your fingers away glancing at the sticky spend on your fingertips. “What do we have here? Did you not hear my two rules when we were in the car?” You wait, watching Jake’s expressions as he tries to figure out what to say.

“You told me that I couldn’t cum. And that if you don’t cum, I get punished. Additionally, if I cum, I get punished.”

You quirk an eyebrow waiting to see whether your baby will actually finish by calling you ma’am as he’s agreed to when he’d dropped into his submissive mindset. When he doesn’t, you up the ante. It’s obvious your baby is feeling bratty and needy right now. You tap on his plush bottom lip, pressing the fingers you’d coated in his release into his mouth, letting him suckle on them for just a minute before pulling away. Your hands are gentle as you free him from his shirt. Jake’s chest is heaving as you do so, his hands trying to divest you of your lingerie with each button that slips free. You push them away each time until Jake’s in just his sticky damp boxers, the thin wet fabric rucked below his balls and his cock free to the cool air in your apartment.

“Baby…” Your voice is all growling sensuality as you beckon your baby forward. He shuffles forward until he can place his chin in the palm of one of your hands. You card the other through the honeyed strands, relishing in the soft moans spilling from his lips as you scratch lightly at his scalp. “What’s going on, hmm? My good boy doesn’t cum so fast without permission. D’you need ma’am to take care of you tonight? I know it’s been a bit since you dropped fully.”

“Yes, ma’am. Please.” Jake’s voice is all Texan drawl tonight, and you love it. Jake’s usually a man of perfect pronunciation and elocution. His Texan heritage and upbringing only come through when he’s aroused or in his submissive mindset. Hearing his voice like this is your first indication that he welcomes what is coming to him with open arms.

“Get undressed fully, baby, and lie on the bed. How do you feel about ropes tonight?” You catalog the bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he swallows, his eyes nearly black with arousal. At his eager nod, you kiss him, tugging him in until you’re so close that you can wrap your arms around him if you choose to do so. When you release him, his mouth is stained red from your lipstick. Seeing the gold of his skin marred by the crimson paint gives you a fantastic idea.

Jake staggers his way into the bedroom, lying on the bed as you’d told him to. He’s not fully on his back yet, staying braced on his elbows as his eyes track you as you grab three things from your closet: soft burgundy colored nylon ropes, a tube of lipstick and a cock ring. When you join Jake on the bed, you start his punishment with the cock ring. You dribble some lube down his length, slicking him up with the flat of your hand before working the ring down until it’s snug at the base.

Jake’s already blushing, his skin warming at the onslaught of sensations as you proceed to work the rope into knots criss crossing over his golden skin. You keep the ropes snug, tight enough that Jake will feel the pressure over his skin, but not tight enough to hurt. His arms and legs are tied to the headboard. You take breaks frequently, peppering kisses across his lips, cheeks, chest and abs until he’s finally as pretty as a picture. The ropes frame his muscles and the dribble of precum collecting near his belly button from his erect cock shines pearlescent in the low light.

You can’t help you coo as the ropes press lightly against his length, providing just enough friction that his hips jerk upwards in the search of additional friction that never comes. This is when you uncap the tube of lipstick. Standing at the vanity, you purse your lips, gliding the crimson substance over your lips to perfection. You blot once, then reapply, blotting one final time before turning back to Jake.

“Are you ready for me baby?” You straddle his waist, hovering over his aching cock before starting his punishment with one crimson print over his heart. Each kiss has Jake’s breath hitching. You dot his torso in crimson kisses, pausing only when the final print is barely visible. This time when you get up, Jake whimpers. You snap a few pictures on your phone before walking back to your vanity.

“Aww, baby.” Your voice is gentle, but with a mischievous tilt, as you reapply your lipstick. But before you blot and reapply, you hit the button on the remote you’d brought with you from the closet. In addition to the buzz of the cock ring as it begins to vibrate, you’re treated to Jake’s body bowing as he arches his back into a near perfect c-shape at the unexpected stimulation. He’s cumming before you can even get back onto the bed, so strung out that the orgasm steals the breath from his lungs. You turn the vibrations down, petting up and down his torso to soothe the tremors skating over his skin.

“Oh, you’re so pretty for me, my darling boy. Cumming like that, completely untouched. Did it feel good, baby?” Jake’s got a tear dripping down one cheek, and you can’t help kissing him for being so good for you. He’s never cum untouched before. You’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. You make out with your boyfriend for several long moments, feeling him relax into the bedsheets again. You check the ropes on his legs to make sure they aren’t chafing or dragging before loosening the bonds on his arms and settling yourself back into his lap. With his arms free, Jake sets his hands on your hips, gently trailing his thumbs under the thong you’re still wearing.

“Oh, you’re being so good for me, baby. D’you think you can give me two more orgasms, baby?” Your voice is gentle as you gaze down at Jake.

“Yes’m.” His voice is a slur as his eyes blearily follow your features.

“You can pick what we do next, lovely boy. D’you want to eat me out again while I randomize the tempo on the ring? Or do you want me to suck on that gorgeous thick cock while the ring does its thing?” Jake’s so deep into his submissive mindset that it takes him several minutes to string the words together to tell you what he wants. It doesn’t surprise you at all when Jake picks the second option. Blowjobs are his favorite thing when he’s not your subby baby so it makes perfect sense that he’ll want that comfort even now. You kiss him for telling you what he wants and pepper additional kisses over his hips and thighs, leaving red marks as you go, stopping after placing one kiss softly on the purpling mushroom head of his length.

The first light lick of your tongue over his length has Jake’s back arching again. You attack the hot flesh with gentle kitten licks, letting your saliva drip messily down his length until it’s collecting against the ring still securely clasped in place. It’s when you take his length into your mouth,sinking all the way down to the base that you flick the vibrations back on. He fights masterfully, trying not to buck up into your mouth, but that’s what you want. Your baby’s going to cum again, dry, and then you’re going to pull the ring off and ride him until he’s stuffing you full of his cum.

To aid him, when you pull away, you tell him, “Fuck my face, darling boy. It’s alright. You’re not going to get punished for that. You’ve been so good for me. I want you to come. Come for me, baby.”

You relax your jaw, allowing the punishing pace Jake sets as he chases his orgasm with everything he has. It’s only a few thrusts before he comes again. You pepper kisses across the muscles of his tense thighs and flick the vibrations off. His moan is strangled when you unclasp the ring, setting it on a paper towel on the bathroom counter. You undo the knots tying him to the bed and kiss him until he’s a little closer to Jake than your baby boy. Arousal is still singing through your veins as you cradle him close to your skin, and Jake’s still hard when you feel his hand against your back.

You grin when your bra falls away, and lose yourself looking into sage eyes glinting golden in the lamplight. Jake's mouth is soon on your breasts. The nipping, licks, and open-mouthed kisses have the fire burning under your skin banking even hotter.

It feels like forever before Jake finally presses into you. His hard length sinks into you in a smooth glide, easily lubricated by how wet you are. You can't help how you arch your back towards him, gasping as his length brushes up against every tender sensitive spot in you that makes your toes curl. You're so close to orgasming already that at the first thrust, you're digging your heels into the dimples above his ass and chanting his name.

The bedroom dissolves into a cacophony of slapping skin and your moans as you buck your hips to meet Jake's for each thrust. You reach the precipice of your orgasm easily, but no matter what you do, you can't cum. Jake's thrusts make you light up, each sending more heat coiling in your gut, but the band just doesn't snap. You're far beyond dominating him now, babbling his name and begging him to make you cum. Finally, Jake presses the pad of his thumb firmly against your swollen clit and envelopes a nipple with his mouth. The combined steady pressure and stinging bite of his teeth sends you careening into the most potent orgasm you think you've ever had.

You're not sure how much later it is when you come back to yourself. Jake's moved you to a bare section of the mattress and you can see him stripping the sheets.

"Jakey?" Your voice is soft, and you can't help your smile when his head swivels in your direction almost immediately. "C'mere." You crook your fingers beckoning him close.

Once he's at arms reach you begin to examine him to see if he's had enough aftercare after dropping so thoroughly like he had earlier. His hands fly to your hips like they're magnetized as you settle into his lap. When you kiss him, his response is slow. So you just tug him into your arms until his face is buried against your breasts. That's where you stay for several moments until he begins kissing you again. Those fervent sloppy kisses are how you know your Jake's come back to you. So you step into the kitchen for a few moments and return with a bowl of cut fruit and a bottle of Gatorade.

You feed Jake the fruit, seeing the color rise back into his cheeks and his awareness come back to the forefront of his mind more and more with each sip of electrolytes and each bite of fruit. You nuzzle at his temple, pressing a gentle kiss there and just hold him for several moments when you're done. It's after you've ushered him into the shower and you're cuddling that Jake finally talks to you again.

"God, that was…" Jake's voice is still a drawl as he traces abstract patterns across your skin. "God, that was something special, beautiful. I've never cum dry before. How'd you know that was what I needed?"

You purse your lips, pretending to think a bit. "I guess it was when I realized that even though you were on vacation you weren't actually relaxing. That was when I knew. You're needier and brattier too."

"I never knew I was so easy to read." His voice is hoarse and quiet as he sets you down on a settee and goes back to changing the sheets. He glares playfully at you for getting up to help him.

You smile at him, "I wouldn't say you're easy to read, Jake. Definitely not to others. But you agreed to drop into an easier mindset for me. I know you, I think, better than most because you trust that part of yourself to me, and only me."

Jake's resulting glance is so questioning that you smile. "And honestly, baby, I think you need to look at yourself in the mirror. Marked by my red lips, with your green eyes shining like that? I don't think there's any doubt that you're mine." You have the proof to show him, too. If you text him a picture every now and then to see his reaction, well, you're only human right? Haven't you heard the phrase, 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy'? Your Cowboy is the best of the best after all.

Taglist:

@cassiemitchell ♕ @mayhemmanaged ♕ @dakotakazansky ♕ @desert-fern ♕ @cherrycola27 ♕ @thedroneranger ♕ @sarahsmi13s ♕ @lovinglyeternal ♕ @bradleybeachbabe ♕

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman smut

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countrymusiclover · 6 months

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3 - The Feast pt 1

Part 4

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

Chezney and I followed Robb's heel's quickly through the winter castle. All our belongings were being brought in by some of their guards and the rooms being prepared by the maids. But none of that matters to me. The ends of my dress had begun being covered in thick mud. "So where are we going now, Robb?"

He glanced over his shoulder causing his curls to bounce as he walked ahead of us. "It's just a little further, my ladies. Don't you worry I won't keep you out long to catch frostbite."

"It's colder than I anticipated it to be, Haelesa." Chezney shivered under her one layer winter fur causing me to pause in my step and drape mine over her shoulders to which she protested. "You'll catch a cold for sure."

Shaking my head I kept walking forward. For most of the remaining trip I didn't notice the cold too bad until we stopped moving and ended up underneath a large red tree in the middle of a winter garden area. "She's right, Lady Haelesa. I would never hear the end of it if you froze to death on my watch." Robb came over sliding his light colored fur cloak off his shoulders.

"Robb, that's not necessary. You'll surely freeze too." I attempted to turn down his offer.

But the Stark boy was raised to be honorable and kind by his parents. He placed the cloak over my shoulders and it almost fell off since it was bigger on me than him. He moved his hands down, tying the laces so it stayed on. "I was born in the North, remember. I'll last longer without a cloak than you and your friend would have."

"Well thank you. So what is this place?" I lifted my head up slightly eyeing the tall red tree in front of the three of us.

He lifted his blue eyes upwards the tree. "This is the Godswoods of Winterfell. My parents were married underneath this tree and someday I shall be too. I thought I should show you since they probably don't have one like it in the south."

"I must say I've seen more of the North than the place I shall call home for the rest of my life." I sadly admit to him.

He apologized. "I'm sorry."

"Not you're doing. It is the fault of my new golden husband." Shrugging my shoulders.

He made a face at me. "You're the girl from the foreign fish house by Dragonstone. My father mentioned it once but I didn't think I would be meeting you during the king's ride here."

"Yes well, my father had legitimate son's. The one he has is only concerned with bedding girls instead of helping the family name. So it all hangs on my head." I explained to him.

Robb eyed me silently for a moment. He wasn't sure what had come over him but he knew he couldn't keep it to himself. "You don't want the marriage to the Kingslayer do you?"

"I told her he might be nice once she gets to know him." Chezney remains the hopeful one.

Turning my head slightly back and forth the wind managed to catch some of the baby hairs that couldn't fit into my braid. "I've heard some good and some bad. Rarely any good ones come from an arranged marriage in this life."

"My mother claims that hers ended well. Five Stark children and an honorable husband." He pointed it out to me.

Nodding my head I kept on. "Indeed it appears so. I dream of the day but it is not my only dream in life."

"An arranged marriage is not my dream either. But I was raised to be lord of Winterfell. I must do the duty of my house." He declared dropping his brown gaze onto me. "What is your dream, Haelesa?"

Throwing my arms away from my sides I raised them in the air feeling a rush of excitement at somebody finally asking me after all these years. "What I want is to see the world. I've lived my whole life in a castle surrounded by water. After the Targaryen reign ended my house fell into the shadows. I assumed I would die in that castle until my father declared I was to wed Jaime Lannister."

"But we are seeing the world, D." Chezney attempted to say.

Sending her a glare I wasn't finished. "Until we're shipped off to Casterly Rock surrounded by the ocean once more. Forgive me, Robb but what I want is something I shall never have."

"I understand, my lady." He replied softly. "You want love and adventure. Same as I."

I chuckled lightly at the eldest Stark boy. "Aren't we a pair."

Chezney turned her attention away from our conversation hearing the galloping of hooves coming our direction. Robb and I soon noticed it and turned our heads over our shoulders seeing a Stark knight. "My lord, my ladies. Lady Stark sent me to retrieve you for the feast tonight."

"Thank you, ser. We were just on our way back." Robb nodded at one of his father's men.

Chezney and I watched the knight remain there where she spoke up. "Was there something else, ser?"

"Ser Jaime wishes to see his betrothed before the feast tonight. I was informed to escort you to him." The knight said.

Tugging the cloak closer around me I huffed following Robb back on foot. Chezney was behind us and the knight followed from behind even though I didn't feel afraid in these woods. "And so it begins." Getting back to the castle I didn't bother with changing out of my muddy clothes if he wished to see me it would be like this. The Stark knight led me through some hallways until we reached the chambers we had been given by Lord Eddard for our time being here.

The Stark knight held open the door and I shooed him away where he shut the door before my betrothed ever uttered a word. "I was wondering if you were ever coming back or had you and your lady in waiting scampered off to the woods with that boy."

"The boy's name is Robb. Now what is it you wished to see me for?" I questioned him.

Jaime smirked, taking a step towards me. "Ah already on a first name basis are you. Tell me are you more intrigued by such danger of getting caught. Because I can gladly help you with your desire before the wedding in a few weeks."

"Hah. I have no desire to share your bed." I scoffed.

He shook his head. "But you'll have to at some point."

"Not by my choice." I sniped, closing Robb's cloak tightly around me. "If you called me here just to make flirty remarks I must be ready for the feast."

"I have something for you actually. If you're interested." Spinning on my heels I headed towards the door until he spoke up. He went over to a crate drawing out something long wrapped in a cloth sheet. He unwrapped it revealing a shiny new blade.

Tilting my head to the side I slowly moved away from the door admiring the newly forage sword that he had placed on the edge of the bed. "Did you have it made for me?"

"I did my best to get the balance right. If it's too heavy I can have the blacksmith change it." He said back to me.

Slowly wrapping my fingers around the handle I took a hold of it with both hands. Swinging it lightly around I could feel much better balance than the one I held at Kings Landing. "This is much better but I don't understand. Why do this for me?"

"It's very unlikely we will fall in love with this arrangement. So I thought I'd do something to make you happy. I saw that we are both in our true element when we were sword fighting. It's yours, Haelesa." Jaime explained resting his right hand on his hip.

Laying the sword down on the bed I sent him a tiny smile. "Thank you, Jaime."

"You're welcome. Now you best get ready for tonight. We can practice before we leave here in a few days." He says while I put the sword back in its holder and headed for the door.

Opening the door I halted in my tracks seeing his sister standing there where I quickly gave her my best curtsy. "Your grace."

"Little Velaryon." She greets me with a stern look walking past me and into her brother's chambers. Once the door was shut behind the young Velaryon Cersei changed her entire demeanor towards her brother. "What exactly do you hope to gain with her?"

Jaime sat down on the bed confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I am talking about. I have spies everywhere in the city. They told me about you sword fighting with her and her lady in waiting. Now you present her with her own sword. Father won't be happy with that."

He rolled his eyes. "Father has rarely ever been happy with anything we've done in our lives."

"Probably because you and our monster of a brother never did what he wanted. Like jumping off the side of the Rock when we were children." She grumbled to him.

Jaime rolled his eyes. "There was nothing wrong with what I did until you told him about it. Now is there something you want to tell me or did you just come to snoop on me?"

"I came to warn you of her. She won't love you. She's a child and she will never have what we have." Cersei stepped closer to him, throwing her bright red dress around as she went.

Jaime dropped his hands in his lap. "Don't tell me you're jealous of the Velaryon girl. She doesn't want this marriage. The only thing I can do is make it look like this can work between us. If I make it clear that I am with you both our heads will be on spikes."

"You let me worry about my drunk husband. And remember that father doesn't care if you make her slightly happy or not." The queen of the seven kingdoms eyed her brother.

He got to his feet snagging her wrist and bringing her to his embrace. "Lannisters don't act like fools. It's the family name that lives on. Nothing else matters."

"So give her a child and then be done with her. That's the plan." She nodded to him in agreement sepering from him and leaving him to prepare for the feast herself.

I wasn't familiar with the rules of many feasts where the royal family was present. Thankfully I wasn't the one hosting such an event. I simply had to represent my house to the best of my ability. Chezney and I made our way down the cold stone stairs that led into the large dining hall. "I can't believe we're here together, Hael."

The feast

"It's not that exciting." I told her where she huffed and I knew I needed to change my attitude about this. "I'm sorry, Chez. This just doesn't feel like me. All the formalities, gowns and accessories. I don't care for it all."

She squeezed my arm that was looped through hers. "Yeah. I suppose you'd rather be running through the woods like a wilding."

"I wouldn't say that - oh I'm sorry." I accidentally bumped into a young girl with dark brown hair and a messy dress. Tilting my head to the side I recognize her as the youngest Stark daughter. "You're Arya aren't you?"

She spun around on her feet. "You're the Velaryon girl. Come sit with me." She takes hold of my hand and drags me to her seat with Chezney trailing behind us and pulling up a chair for herself.

"So how boring are these things normally?" Chezney asked the young girl.

Arya sticks her tongue out. "Extremely. I don't like them. But I can't stand that either. I'm Arya, what's your name?"

"I'm Haelesa and this is Chezney." Following her gaze I saw that her older sister Sansa was gossiping with her friends. She kept aweing the blonde haired prince who was looking in her direction. I couldn't blame her for not liking it. Yes he was cute and had the title of Prince but that wasn't important if he was a brute. "I see that. I never had any sisters to relate to."

"She was stuck with me. I think I do a rather good job." Chezney throws an arm over my shoulder.

Arya smiled, grabbing her fork and getting some cake on the end of it. "Watch this, it'll be funny."

"Arya!" Sansa gasped shapely when the cake from the fork smashed on her cheek. Some of it fell and got on her dress which caused laughter to fill the hall. Covering my mouth with my hands I couldn't contain the laughter that fell from my lips. Chezney nearly fell backwards off her chair.

At that time Lady Stark sent her eldest son a look sending him over to the three of us. Robb began coming in our direction where I warned the girl. "Run Arya."

"Come on. Get some more." Chezney attempted to help her get some more cake on her fork to do it a second time.

Scrambling to my feet I moved around in the blue dress I wore hoping to block him from his sister. "Haelesa, what are you doing?" He chuckled moving but I got in front of him at every step.

"Keeping you from her, what does it look like?" I teased him with a grin.

Robb made a move but I jumped in front of him yet again. He kept his hands at a distance where if he had he could easily beat me here. He was much faster and stronger after all. "My mother wants me to put her to bed before she embarrasses us more tonight."

"Sorry Robb. But it's three against one." I chuckled seeing his eyes shift from me to my best friend and his sister then back to me. "What's the problem, Stark. Afraid to fight a girl?"

He answered my question. "I was raised not too."

"It's all in good fun." I responded.

Chezney nudged Arya who bent her spoon back and launched cake in his face. He ran toward her and he almost grabbed her until I jumped on his back and we went tumbling to the cold floor. "Haelesa!" He called out my name in a fit of laughter.

"Ha we beat you." Chezney teased him with Arya proudly at her side.

Robb rubbed the back of his head while I brushed the dirt off my dress. "Yes you did. Now off to bed you." He forced himself to his feet pushing his sister towards the hallway.

"At least you're not a sore loser, Stark." My best friend sticks her tongue out.

I pushed myself up to stand on my own feet not bothering with fixing my messy hair. I felt my chest rising up and down knowing I was enjoying myself at this moment. "Uh, I need some air." I told the pair sensing that someone was watching me. I was right to assume so because Jaime was leaning up against the wall watching the whole moment between us. I didn't feel comfortable being myself with him watching me.

"I'll come with you." Robb offered me his arm since I wasn't familiar with the grounds and it was nightfall now so it was easy for me to get lost.

Chezney waved bye to us. "See you later." She saw Robb and I walk away from the feast yet she wasn't the only one watching in the room.

Unknown to the young pair King Robert and his friend Lord Eddard were the ones watching them. "Ned, there's something we should talk about."

"Of course." He agreed to his friend leaving the feast.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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