#Plane of Mud

[justavulcan]

Airmark's Guide to Planar Vegetables: Oblivion Yam

These huge, black-skinned tubers are among the few edible vegetables native to the Elemental Plane of Mud, and have evolved defenses to account for this. Tall and wide as the average humanoid, oblivion yams have soft reddish flesh within that has a starchy taste. They are best cooked, as raw their flesh is quite hard.

Oblivion yams grow leafy stalks above ground level when sedentary, and tolerate waterlogged conditions well; however, when threatened, the tuber breaks off from these stalks to burrow away from would-be attackers. If they cannot escape, they fight by spraying a complex acid in precise bursts from the broken stump of their stalk. Left to escape, oblivion yam stalks grow back at a ferocious rate, growing taller than a standard humanoid within only a few days.

However, the most remarkable feature of the oblivion yam is its mud-armoring ability: tiny roots all over the tuber collect sediment and other harder elements of their surroundings when burrowing to form a tough shell to protect the tuber from damage. Despite their slow speed, oblivion yams being pursued have few reasons to stay still when under attack, so they can refresh this protective coat.

[callhimnowmarisamylove]

NICOLE KIDMAN and HUGH JACKMAN 'AUSTRALIA' (2008) dir. Baz Luhrmann

[mortysmith]

doubt ill ever finish this, but ghost and mosca yayyy

[hana-bobo-finch]

what a precious little guy. i hope nothing bad ever happens to him

[teraluceo]

"Ah well you see-"

Oh no special interest activated.

"There is an infinite amount of me and yet still only one here. The multiverse is infinite and ever expanding. Some look like me and talk like me, but families would be different. Some may be women, men, none of the above or more fluid. Some might not even be human, there might even be a Wooper me running around somewhere. There might even be me's in worlds where Pokemon don't exist. There could even be a me who doesn't like Wooper- no, no. I think that's the defining Rika Factor to be honest. I haven't tested it but let's be honest, am I really me without some muddy cute baby boi?

"But if you want Rika sense you just gotta work with enough dysfunctional people and put up with enough bullshit that You Just Know."

[lovely-bibically-accurate-angels]

if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog <3 (absolutely no pressure)

I like teeth and eyes, kinda covered in 'em

Deer and ram are my favorite animal

Im both too tall and not tall enough, a wiggly middle.

[justavulcan]

Airmark's Guide to Planar Vegetables: Sludgy Sundew

This small, low-growing plant rarely grows higher than a foot tall or across.  Midnight blue with dark veins running the length of the leaves, sludgy sundew is aptly named, as the leaves are coated with short hairs capped with a sticky black substance that serves as an excellent foundation for glue when dried.  Due to the poor quality of soil on its home plane, this plant is carnivorous, feeding on insects and other small creatures by snaring them in its sticky leaves, which then curl up and exude digestive juices to nourish the plant.  It can be a hazard to travelers, but mostly to their footwear- they stick to the feet of many larger creatures, which can cause a loss of traveling speed as they drag their root mass along with them.  Insufficiently treated leather can scar and suffer damage from their digestive juice if unattended, and travelers are advised to bring alcohol with them to dissolve the plant’s sticky sap.

[pellucid-constellations]

If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

Part 2

“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”

Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.” 

You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.” 

“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.” 

Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm. 

“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling. 

“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.” 

“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—” 

“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.” 

You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.” 

“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—” 

“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—” 

“He did what?” 

“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.” 

“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—” 

“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.” 

Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure. 

“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor. 

“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.” 

“I—I can’t remember you saying that.” 

“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”

Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words. 

But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—” 

“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off. 

Azriel froze. “What?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.

“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.” 

“Can’t do what?” 

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his. 

“I can’t do this with you.” 

Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.” 

Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.

You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off. 

“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family. 

“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.” 

Azriel's jaw quivered. 

“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.” 

Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut. 

“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.” 

“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than— 

Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.” 

You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms. 

“I need time to be alone.” 

Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—” 

“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.” 

A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?” 

You only shook your head. 

“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?” 

“How were you supposed to know before?” 

Part 2

[thewritetofreespeech]

Shower you with love

plot: Jinwoo comes home from a dungeon in desperate need for a shower. And you.

tags: f!reader, jinwoo x reader, shower sex, heterosexual sex, fingering, cute fluffy couple stuff

wc: 1.3K

-------------------------🔹----------------------------------

It was getting pretty late. You glance at your phone again to check the time, and sigh as you decided Jinwoo was probably not coming home. The life of a Hunter was like that sometimes. All you could do was hope that he was safe and ok.

Picking yourself up from the couch to put your mug in the sink for tomorrow’s wash and get ready for bed, when you hear the front door open. The only person it could be was Jinwoo, as Jinah was staying over at a friend’s place to study and work on a project, and raced for the door. Your enthusiasm is dampened, however, and smile falters as you take in your boyfriend’s appearance at the door. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I fell in a mud pit.”

You cover your mouth not to laugh directly in Jinwoo’s face, but also cover some of the smell. Not the freshest mud you had to assume; with Gods knew what else was in the pit before Jinwoo was added to it. “Well….take all that off then. I don’t want you tracking all this ick through the house. Luckily the washer is free. Just leave it there and I’ll take care of it.”

Jinwoo obediently pulled off his shoes and the rest of his clothes. His beautiful, sculpted body becoming more & more revealed as he stripped down to his boxers, fortunately spared from the muck. “Go take a shower and I’ll toss these in. Do you want anything to eat after?” He shook his head. Jinwoo seemed tired, but that might just be the long day or just the stress getting to him, so you decided to not push on the last time he ate. “Ok. Get cleaned up and we’ll get ready for bed.”

He made his way through the apartment to the bathroom, and you made quick work of the laundry. After you finished setting up a heavy wash cycle, you heard Jinwoo call your name from the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” You ask when you arrive. Expecting the worst somehow but just finding your boyfriend standing there with the shower running.

“Take a shower with me.”

You blush at Jinwoo’s request. He looked completely serious, yet somehow a little vulnerable as he reached out to pull you further into the bathroom. How could you say no?

Stripping out of your pjs, you wait for Jinwoo to get into the shower first. It was chilly in the bathroom, but you were willing to wait to have the initial layer of filth sluff off Jinwoo’s skin before you joined him. The water was warm as it hit your back, and you let out a little sigh. “It’s not too hot, is it?”

You turn around to face Jinwoo. His eyes fixed on you with a gaze as warm as the shower. Wet hair flopping down on his face. “No. It’s perfect.”

Jinwoo smiled, then leaned forward to give you a kiss. Slow, lazy, a signal on how tired he was, but apparently not that tired. “I missed you.” That was apparent by his erection brushing against your thigh.

You shutter but try to keep coy so Jinwoo didn’t completely have the upper hand. “You were only gone for a day.” You remind him.

He pouted in response with a frown. “Time is different in the dungeons.” You would have to take his word on that.

The Hunter pulled you in for another kiss. Bodies press fully together this time. You moan as your nipples brushed against the hard planes of his chest. Those calloused hands sliding over your body with ease thanks to the water. “Jinwoo…”

“I need you.” He told you when the two of you broke free. That serious yet vulnerable look on his face again.

“Ok.” You told him and pulled him back in. He could have all of you, he only needed to ask.

Kissing again, Jinwoo turned you both around, so you were out of the direct spray and your back was against the shower wall. His hands moved down between your legs to touch you and you moan as one of his fingers slid into you. Easy with the warm water. “Jin…” You whimper as he touched you. Pumping his fingers inside as his thumb brushed against your clit.

You manage to open your eyes and find Jinwoo staring at you. Transfixed. Taking in every express. In recent months he had become more observant like this in a variety of ways, but you never thought you would be the focus of it. Having him look at you that way, as if inside you, made your stomach quake as you held onto him.

“Jinwoo please…” You buck your hips into his hand and Jinwoo needed no further encouragement.

He pulled his hand from you and asked you to lift your leg. The shelf intended for small soaps & shampoo finding a whole new purpose in your shower set up. Jinwoo stepped further into your space and lined his cock up with your entrance. Pressing forward as you moan at being filled inside by him.

It felt amazing. Being close to him again (even if it was just a day). Apparently, however, missing you left Jinwoo with very little patience. Where he would usually slow up to start, he just went in full tilt with his thrusts inside you this time. Not that you were complaining. Your moans and screams echoing off the tile of the bathroom were evidence to that. “Oh God Jinwoo! Don’t stop!”

Your lover gave a low grunt in your ear, then suddenly your legs were up around Jinwoo’s waist with ease as he pounded into you. “Fuck!” You shriek as you cling onto him. When the hell did he get so strong?!

The change in position allowed Jinwoo to fuck deeper inside you. Hard and heavy. You could feel every thrust of his cock through your body. Pure, mind-numbing pleasure.

“Oh! Oh God Jin! So good! I-I’m gonna cum-!”

“Cum for me.” And it was like his words were a new activate command, meant only for you. You cum hard. Your whole body tightening around Jinwoo as you clung to him. Your pussy seizing around his cock as he came inside you.

The two of you hold there for a moment. Jinwoo holding you against the wall with him leaning against you, and you suspended in the air. When he let you down, he did so gently. Your legs were shaky, and you were still in a wet shower. 80% of household accidents happen in the bathroom, and you have to wonder now if great sex might also be the cause.

Jinwoo washed his hair quickly, then turned around to do the same to you. While he rinsed you cleaned the rest of your body to get the sweat and mess off you. Sex wasn’t dirty but it certainly wasn’t the most hygienic activity at times. Freshly showered, Jinwoo turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub. Offering you his hand.

“Do we have any puddings left?”

You turn to look over at Jinwoo as you dried off with your towel. Smirking a little, as he looked more like a little lost puppy now, rather than the beast that just fucked you. “I think so. Why? Are you hungry now?”

Jinwoo nodded and you leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Let me make you something then. You can’t live off pudding and protein bars Jin.”

“But I like pudding.” He insisted, but didn’t argue any further as he went to put on clothes and wait for you to make him something. Just a light snack. You couldn’t send the great Hunter to bed hungry, but he did need to get to bed.

As you watched him eat, cleaning up the crumbs from the counter as he happily munched, you thought it was good to have him home.

[yanderedrabbles]

Helloooo! I just loved the old west gang. Traumatized? Yes. Curious? Yes. But specifically the Lakota wrangler caught my attention, and oooh this part:

"""Don't be. You're my reward, my reparation." He brushed his knuckles across your cheek again.

"I've waited my whole life for you."

You wanted to ask why. What made you so special? Why did he want to keep you? ""

VAL, TELL ME WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? WHAT'S HIS STORY? WHAT'S HIS DEBT?

OH MY GOD HIS PART IS SO 💕💕💕💕

TELL US THEIR BACKGROUND PLEASE 🥹🥹🥹

Yandere Outlaws - The Wrangler's Past + the gang hearing about you for the first time

I think the wrangler probably has one of the most interesting backgrounds. We all know that the Wild West era was no fun at all for Native American tribes. Manifest Destiny and all the terrible things done in it's name saw Native tribes being confined to smaller and smaller reservations, with stricter and stricter rules. Bison were disappearing, the railroads were cutting across hunting lands, and permanent settlers were coming west in droves.

I think in the face of all that, the wrangler felt like he had to adapt or die. Set out on his own and try and make it in the white man's world.

I reckon he falls in with the boss after a nasty bar fight. Him against some cowboys who feel like a Lakota on "their" turf is blasphemy.

Things don't look good at all. He's a strong fighter but numbers almost always trumps skill. He's going to end up dead in the mud and no one will give a damn.

Well, until the boss arrives. Maybe the boss is an old quick draw and when the smoke settles the cowboys are down for good. Or maybe the boss just has that look to him, that keen eyed glare that makes dumb cowhands think better of their bravado.

Either way, he hauls the wrangler out of the mud and offers him a job.

"Need a man for my horses. I'll pay you good to stick with us for coupla weeks."

The wrangler agrees. Because hell, what else is there to do? And if the older man looks hard edged and hard eyed, how much does that really matter? This is the West. You either get tough or get buried.

I think one way or another, the boss earns his loyalty. He gives him a sense of belonging he hasn't felt since he set out on his own. Gives him a purpose. And well, robbing banks and derailing trains and sticking it to old Uncle Sam is about the best he can do to make up for what his tribe has been through. Just one more outlaw pricking Washington in the thumb.

And as for you, sweet thing that you are, oh, you're what he's waited for all his life.

A girl to call his own. Soft and kind, to keep the cold away. Looking in your eyes makes it so easy to forget all the shit he's been through, all the shit he's done. He's been through his share of trouble and then some. He deserves a place to rest his head, a person to call home.

So what if you aren't willing? The world has gone out of its way to take what should have been his by right. The bison, the land, the open sky and flowing water. All of it divvied up and fenced off. He's not letting anyone get in the way of the one good thing he can finally call his own.

I think the thing that initially attracts him to you is the story of you and the second in command. The second is Chinese and he hasn't had it easy either. He could either work the railroads or die in a ditch. Not the best options, but just about the only ones open to an immigrant's son.

If you were anyone else, you'd have screamed your head off when you found him bleeding in your barn.

You didn't. Instead, you put him back together and kept him safe from your pa.

When he first heard the story, it was a cold night out on the planes. They'd just pulled off a job and were sleeping rough, trying to throw the law dogs off their trail.

The second kept looking out to the west. Maybe he was keeping an eye out for pursuit, but they'd pulled their job off back east. Marshals would be coming from that direction, if at all.

Finally, he gave in to his curiosity and asked the man what the hell he was looking for.

"My girl," he said simply. "My girl stays out that way."

The outlaws grew quiet around the fire.

"I didn't know you had one," the boss said, elbows on his knees as he sharpened his boot knife. "Is that where you go off to when we're in town?"

"Mm-hmm. I like to check in on her."

The gunslingers leaned forward then, as in sync as coyotes.

"She must be one hell of a girl, if she can put up with your ugly mug."

"Is she pretty? Got those nice eyes that look up at you all sweet?"

He ignored them and went back to looking west, like he could somehow see over all those miles.

"Do you love her?" the wrangler asked suddenly. He didn't know why he asked that, just that it seemed important.

"More than I thought possible. Every time I see her it's like my heart is breaking. If I can't have her, I think I'll go mad."

The boss looked up for a second, blue eyes catching the firelight. "You gonna marry her then?"

The second laughed, uncharacteristically nervous. "She doesn't even know I exist."

The boss stopped sharpening his knife. "How do you know you love her, if you ain't never talked to her?"

"She saved my life. That's how I know."

The wrangler looked up at the sky and wondered who would go out of their way to save an outlaw.

The boss stuck his knife in his boot. "Tell us the story."

Maybe if anyone else asked, the second would have refused. You were his girl. He didn't want to share even the memory of you with other men.

But you don't say no to the boss.

When he was done telling it, the outlaws were quiet. Lost in their own thoughts. All of them thinking how sweet it would be to have a girl like that. Feeling for a second what he felt every time he thought of you.

It was the wrangler who broke the silence, only half aware he was speaking. "I'd do anything to have a girl like that. Someone so kind..."

The dark skinned outlaw leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "She sounds too good for either of you."

"And you're any better?"

He didn't get to answer. The green eyed gunslinger cut in, his voice low and mean.

"She sounds real innocent. Kind of girl who'll cry when you fuck her for the first time."

The second in command stood with a snarl, already reaching for his rifle.

"Don't."

The boss, quiet but no less dangerous for being so.

"We're all men here. We're all gonna think somethin' like that when you tell us 'bout a girl so...untouched."

The second sat back down stiffly, his jaw clenched tight.

The boss continued, "Ain't like we're gonna steal your girl from you. Let it go."

The wrangler didn't let it go though. Not even when they were back in their hideout, a whole lot richer than they were a week ago.

He stopped the second in command when he was saddling up his mustang.

"Take me with you. I want to see this girl of yours."

If it was anyone else, he'd have said no on the spot. But the wrangler had a quiet gentleness about him that made the second agree.

They watched you from a hill overlooking your father's ranch. Just two shadows against the setting sun.

One of your horses had taken sick and you were walking it around the corral. Stopping every little while to stroke its neck or rub its nose, whispering encouragement. You were patient, gentle. The hem of your skirt tucked into your belt and showing off a sliver of thigh as you moved.

The wrangler sighed and stroked his horse's neck.

"I understand now."

"Understand what?"

"Why you keep looking for her, even if you're a hundred miles away."

As they rode home, he found himself doing the same thing. Looking over his shoulder like he could somehow see you one last time.

And the first time he saw you up close? Backed up against the kitchen table, corned like a vixen at the hunt? That's when he realised exactly what you were.

You were his reward.

The one good thing he'd struggled all his life to find. You were going to be his peace. His home.

And the first time he had you? On your knees, kissing his cock, your eyelashes still wet with tears? That's when he decided he'd keep you, no matter how cruel it was. No matter that doing it would strip him of any claim to goodness. A good man wouldn't get hard seeing you cry. A good man wouldn't fuck you when all you wanted was to go home.

But then again, how could he stay a good man in a world that hated him? That wanted him dead and gone?

When he kissed you, he signed away his last bit of honour. It doesn't matter that he holds you so gently, that he touches you like a lover.

He'll never let you go. And ain't that just a bitch?

[hardlyinteresting]

Stop in the middle

Jake Seresin x reader

Two sides of the same coin; they were joined at the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”.

So much wine by Phoebe Bridgers  Somewhere else by Indians Abbey by  Mitski

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, (call sign Angel), with no physical description, crash landing, wilderness survival, major injuries (non-graphic description), discussions of death, happy ending though (I promise!), hurt/comfort, idiots in love, possible Navy inaccuracies, (please let me know if you'd like me to add anything else)

Word Count: 4.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

 Laying in the snow she watches the sun rise inch by inch over the tree line. The sky bathed in a soft orange glow that warms her skin for what she can only assume will be the last time. He’ll hate her for leaving him without saying goodbye, but her voice has already left her and her arms are too weak to shake him from his slumber. 

In the distance the cotton fluff clouds rest on the peaks of the mountains; tremendous contrast so perfectly balanced. She feels each of Hangman's breaths expanding the firm plane of his chest as her breathing grows slower. Two days ago she never would have imagined dying in the arms of Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin. 

---

They had taken off at the barest crack of dawn breaking. 0600 hours. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Take off from the carrier. Fly over. Survey the valley below—report anomalies. Continue the flight path, and land at a nearby ally airbase. Refuel. Return to the carrier. They'd been tasked with flying similar paths for the last two weeks as part of a larger peacekeeping and security effort. As far as deployments go, they were lucky to have been selected to be the joint task force; and more fortunate to not be engaged in active combat. 

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job. 

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying. 

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips. 

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley. 

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself. 

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”. 

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.” 

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case. 

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while. 

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be. 

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet. 

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival. 

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk. 

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained. 

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. 

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful. 

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface. 

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked. 

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him. 

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?” 

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?” 

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed. 

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right. 

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”. 

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance. 

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf. 

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods. 

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway. 

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate. 

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth. 

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship. 

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them. 

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer. 

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight. 

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”. 

She believed him. 

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever. 

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more. 

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind. 

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit. 

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence. 

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow. 

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand. 

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life. 

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands. 

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him. 

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.  

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before. 

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation. 

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it. 

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus. 

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him. 

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her. 

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love. 

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another. 

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”.  But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong. 

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

 “I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving. 

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep. 

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer. 

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting  the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent. 

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments. 

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey. 

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake. 

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows. 

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky. 

“Jake,” she manages. 

“Yeah, Angel”. 

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it, 

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken. 

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside. 

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario. 

“I'm in love with you,” he tells her too. 

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo Satoru likes his girls clingy. 

wc — 1k

tags — confident reader 

He lets you loop your arms around his neck and whine for kisses, gifts, everything he has. With an unlimited budget and the deep pockets of a man in love, he spoils you rotten. 

Here’s the problem with being the strongest: you will always be the strongest. From the day he was born, there was no competition. Gojo didn’t even have to begin to outstrip his peers. He was simply born better than them. 

But eventually, even that level of talent grew exponentially until he went from being simply unbeatable to untouchable. His growth was incomparable, leaving him a lonely god on his own plane of existence. 

That’s why he needs you: sweet and soft and demanding. Everyone else had it all wrong. 

The Gojo clan spoiled their young head rotten. Knowing that he would bear the burden of the world from the moment he was born and those blue eyes opened, his mother demanded her child grow up in peace. Nothing was asked of him, no demands, no pleas for help. 

The outside world relied on Gojo as their saviour, but within the Gojo compound, he was just a spoiled little boy whose mother adored him. 

The way he acts within the walls of the Gojo stronghold is a carefully kept secret. He’s as soft as a newborn kitten, hair carefully washed by his childhood nurses and left out to sun in a patch of light. He’s sleepy and warm and mellow, hardly the strongest anymore. Without knowing any of this, you somehow bring that back out in him years later. 

An auxiliary manager in training, you first met him when you were tagging along with Ijichi on one of Gojo’s missions. Ijichi was flustered, even more so than usual, at the thought of having to care for a mentee when he could hardly take care of himself.

It only made matters worse that your first mission would be with Gojo. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach, despairing at how he would inevitably fail to shield you from his barbed comments and wicked teasing. 

In the end, he needn’t have worried. The two of you turn the tables on him. 

Poor Ijichi. 

It started off as a way to bully him more, because Gojo could be such a little tyrant. 

“Come on, Ijichi. Let her tag along, what’s the harm!” 

“You heard him,” you had announced self-importantly, and thrown yourself promptly into the passenger seat. 

That was usually Gojo’s seat, but he was willing to give it up for some amusement. 

You hadn’t been given permission to go on this mission, but you had insisted. First you wheedled, then you whined, finally you outright demanded. You wanted see the powerful Satoru Gojo in action. 

He leans forward, arms draped over the back of your seat. He pokes your cheek playfully as he says, “Oh, are you a fan?” 

“As if!” You scoff. “I don’t care about you, I care about your cursed technique.” 

Gojo takes your bluntness in stride. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about his technique (he caught you demanding details on Hollow Purple from Ijichi once) or maybe it’s the way your cheeks puff out when you pout. He knows you’re lying. Part of your assignment to Ijichi is because you begged Masamichi to be placed where you could watch Gojo work. 

It’s easy work for him. The curse is vaporized in seconds. He makes it look so weak you wonder why they even bothered with it at all until you remember that this curse had been failed to be exorcised by a first grade sorcerer who had come back licking his wounds. It’s not that it’s weak, it’s that he’s too strong. 

“Anyone up for lunch? My treat,” Gojo says, still immaculate as ever. 

Ijichi, who had been standing so close he got covered in some strange muck, not even from the curse but from Hollow Purple cutting through the mud, looks at him suspiciously. Gojo is never this nice. 

You have no such reservations. Ijichi yelps and protests when Gojo brings you to a luxurious restaurant in the heart of Tokyo without a reservation, relying on the strength of his name alone. He doesn’t even eat much, content to watch you order whatever you like on his dime. It amuses him, the way you’re so confident about it, as if you know he won’t refuse you. 

He won’t. 

By the time you order dessert - for you and Gojo, telling him he’ll like whatever you choose for him - he can’t bear the burning question that’s been lurking in the back of his mind anymore. 

“Smoke break!” He demands cheerfully. 

“You don’t even smoke!” Ijichi says, terrified, as if Gojo is some high school bully dragging him out under another pretense to shake him down for cash. He might, just for fun. 

You smile and wave them off. You wouldn’t let Gojo do that seriously, but Ijichi is just so fun to tease. You’ll come rescue him later if it looks like he’s really miserable. 

“Alright, spill the beans,” Gojo says, leaning against the doorframe and blockading Ijichi from going back inside. “What’s her deal?” 

Ijichi just stares at him slack jawed, open mouthed, terrified, clearly still waiting for some kind of attack. 

“Oh, come on! I’m not that mean to you, am I?” Even Gojo can’t resist a twitchy smile at what he’s saying. “Who is she? Where’s she from?” 

Ijichi blinks. “She’s just some girl. Masamichi hired her.” 

“She’s a right little princess,” Gojo murmured. “What, is she the daughter of a clan head or something? Maybe even the Three Clans?” 

Ijichi sighs. “You would think so with that attitude, but she just comes from a normal non-sorcerer family.” 

“Her?” Gojo asks disbelievingly. “A girl like that? Impossible.” 

“It’s true,” Ijichi says. “I don’t even know where Masamichi picked her up.” 

Gojo returns to his seat with a overly sweet parfait waiting for him. You’re right, he does like it. Or maybe he likes it because you’re finally giving him your full attention, waiting with rapt delight to see if he’ll give it full stars. 

He thinks he might take you out to dinner more, if it gets you to look at him like that. You might not be a clan princess yet, but he can’t wait to make you one.

[cryptotheism]

I had a dream about a diner. You could order a dish called a "barnstormer" that was a bowl of oatmeal and a beer, served in a glass that looked like an airplane. You ate it by "crashing" the plane into the oatmeal mud flat, and then just eating the sloppy oat beer mix with a spoon.

[hardbeingcasual]

better off — lottie matthews. . . fem reader

warnings. plane crash, blood, losing a limb, typical yj stuff, angst, first fic in like 10 months so dont judge plssss, not proof read

summary. before the crash lottie shut you out, the only time she spoke to you was for soccer, until… you get hurt in the crash and she starts to regret her actions.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A few hours ago you were nervous for nationals, but now you were nervous for your own life.

You were perched up against a tree, Misty right in your face trying to convince you that you were going to be okay as you clutch your arm thats bleeding… badly.

But you didn’t believe her. Why would you believe Misty?

Your arm was soaked in blood, it was disgustingly unfixable.

You knew it had to be amputated, like Coach Ben’s leg moments ago. You suck in a deep breath, tears falling freely down your face as you look up to see that most of the team (the alive ones) were stood there looking at you sorrowfully.

Your eyes land on Lottie, and you don’t even fight the eye roll. Your eyes move to Misty, more tears falling down your cheeks from the pain you’re feeling.

“Do what you’ve got to do.” You tell her in utter defeat. You just wanted the wilderness to swallow you up whole right here. Misty nods at your words.

You scream so loud at the pain, your vocal cords straining as the pain in your arm increases as Misty begins to amputate your arm. The group can’t help but just watch as Misty hacks your arm off.

Lottie wanted to go over and hold your remaining hand but she was frozen. A frown on her face as she watches you squirm in pain.

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A few days had gone by, you still hadn’t been rescued, it was getting tougher and tougher to get used to having one arm.

You were currently sat on the grass away from everyone to get some peace just for a little bit, you liked to take breaks from the group, just sitting alone with your thoughts when the group got too much.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a twig snap behind you, whipping your head around you were face to face with Lottie.

You ask, “What do you want?” In a not so kind tone, but the tone was honestly deserved.

Lottie shrugs like she was a deer in the headlights, “Thought you would’ve wanted some company.”

You scoff at her. “Didn’t think you were talking to me.” You honestly felt offended, now that you had no arm she wanted to speak to you? Whatever.

She sits next to you on the grass, picking up with a stick and starts poking it in the mud anxiously. “How is your arm?”

“Still gone.” You say bluntly to which she nods awkwardly.

“Sorry.” She mutters, still digging holes into the ground as she never held eye contact. Your lip trembles, from the pain of your arm but also your heart.

“Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you shut me out?” You questioned, swallowing the lump in your throat as she finally lifted her eyes from the ground to look at you.

“I was ashamed.” She confesses.

Your eyebrows raise “Of me?”

“No, of me. Of what I was feeling. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship—”

You cut her off. “But you already did that, by shutting me out and ignoring me, Lottie.” Her name felt like venom on your tongue.

“When you kissed me, my parents saw us,” Your face falls at that, Lottie continues, “They told me not to see you again, so I listened, because I was scared on what was going to happen and I’m sorry, okay?” A few tears slip down Lottie’s cheeks as she tells you, tears pool in your eyes also.

“I thought I did something wrong.” You frown at her, as she holds your hand.

“You could never.”

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requests are open !

[sarebearcares]

[ID: a screenshot of a wikipedia page with three unopened toggle sections reading nests, food, and airplane incidents. End ID]

wikipedia on mud dauber wasps

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: just a little behind the scenes of Colby and reader keeping their relationship out of the spotlight. 

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, secret dating, secret texting, secret flirting, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, oral (both rec), use of 'good girl', unprotected sex, general filth

Word count: 3.7k | not edited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You feel your phone vibrate in your lap, glancing up at Colby and the smirk on his lips tells you exactly who the texts is from. 

You look over at your friend sitting next to you, who's clearly deep in conversation with Sam, before flipping your phone over, you look so sexy in those jeans. They make your ass look so good. 

You chew on the inside of your lip, fighting back a smirk as you type back, They'd look even better on the floor of one of our bedrooms. 

You flip your phone back over and look up, joining in on the conversation as Colby reads your text, "Oh yeah, I've been to Paris this time of year. It's beautiful." 

"Yeah?" Sam raises his brows, "Then I say.. we all buy a plane ticket, I'll book the hotel, and we take a trip to Paris." 

"I'm so down for that." You nod, phone vibrating in your lap. As you go to flip your phone over, your friend next to you leans over, "Is he serious?" 

You lay your phone back down quickly and look at her, "Who? Sam?"

She nods and you laugh, "Oh yes. Sam is very serious when it comes to planning trips. I bet he's already looking at hotels." 

"Ah. Found one." He says leaning over to show Colby. 

"Told ya." You smile and she nudges you with her elbow, "Why don't you go after Sam? You seem to know him pretty well." 

You sigh, "I don't feel that way towards him." You look at her, "You know that." 

She tilts her head, "Yeah, but I feel like you've been single forever, I think Paris would be the perfect time for you to find someone, you know? Get out there." 

You roll your eyes, "I'm content with how my life is. I promise." 

You've been secretly dating Colby for a few months. 

You both are actually surprised that you've managed to keep your relationship secret for this long, almost five months to be exact. 

You both agreed that you liked the privacy aspect of it, also because Colby doesn't want your name being drug through the mud for just being with him. He's saving you from that for as long as he can. 

You both also agreed to not tell your friends just yet, because It keeps things exciting between the two of you. Kinda giving you both an adrenaline rush every time you try and sneak in a kiss or two when you get a few seconds alone. 

The late night drives when it feels like just the two of you, is just absolutely perfection. 

No one bothers you. You can talk for hours on end and just enjoy each other without people intruding in anyway. 

Your friend goes back to talking to the group and you take the chance to see what Colby said. You turn your phone away slightly, smirking at his text, Your roommate won't be home tonight right? So that means I can use the front door .. like a normal person? 

You tap the screen, tilting your head, I don't know, Colby Brock coming through my window is actually kind of hot. 

Your friend looks back over and leans over as you lock your phone quickly before throwing it into your lap. 

"Ohh.. I see." She leans in, "Got some sort of-" she lowers her voice, "-sneaky link going on, do we?" 

You laugh, shaking your head, "No. there's no.. sneaky link.." 

"Mm. Okay." She shakes her head, reaching for her glass, "So there is someone?" 

You take a sip from your glass, eyes moving to a smirking Colby, "No." you set your glass down, looking back over at him, "Just.. trying to get a brand deal. I don't want anyone to know until it's official, you know?" 

She raises her brows, "Y/n. That's great!" She pretends to zip her lips and throws the invisible key, "Your secret is safe with me." 

She smiles and turns to jump in on the conversation. Your eyes meet Colby's and he shakes his head slowly as he stares at you with a small grin. 

You look down at your phone, taking in a quiet, deep breath as your eyes scan over Colby's text, You know what else is hot? 

You glance up at him, then over to the group before responding, Do tell. 

You rest your phone down, reaching up to get a drink as Colby responds back. He stops when Sam looks over, "Do you want to go out with Jake and Johnnie tonight?" 

Colby thinks for a second, searching for a valid excuse, "I have to edit that video, and I-"

"He's going." Sam says into the phone with a nod, to who you assume is Jake on the other end. You look at Colby and he gives you the it'll be fine, look. 

You feel your phone vibrate and you look down, Don't worry babe. It doesn't matter. You're my girl, you get priority. I'm seeing you tonight. 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You grow more impatient as time goes on. 

You wanted Colby, and you wanted him now. 

When are you coming? 

You rest your phone on your chest and instantly get a reply from him, Soon, baby. You gettin antsy? 

You sigh, smirking as you type, you have no idea.

You see the bubbles pop up, I'll be there as soon as I can, I might just tell them I'm not feeling too good, but I'll be over as soon as I can get away.

You sit up, Is there anything I can do to get you here faster? 

You get up, walking to your bedroom. You set your phone down on the bed, slipping off your shirt and bra before walking over to the mirror. 

You bring your phone up, laying an arm over your bare chest and snapping a picture, typing out a text before you hit send, look at what you're missing out on. 

You stand there anxiously as you wait for a reply. 

You see the bubbles pop up and smirk as your eyes scan over his words, Don't tease me like that, baby.

You turn around, moving your arms a little bit further down, snapping a picture and typing out, I have no idea what you're talking about. 

You hit send, laughing slightly as you walk over to sit on the bed. Colby is taking a minute, so that must mean someone's around him. 

Finally, he answers, Fuck.. baby girl. I can't wait to get my hands on you. 

You move your arm away fully, leaving your breasts exposed as you send the picture with no text. 

You toss your phone down onto the bed and go to your dresser, digging through the drawer to find your never worn, red lace lingerie set. 

You strip down completely to slip on the sheer little number. You walk over to your closet, pulling out one of Colby's sweatshirts and slip it on. 

You walk over to your bed, moving to lay down as you pick up your phone. You smirk when you see Colby's text, I'm on my way.

You feel your heart rate pick up and you hold your arm up, moving the sweatshirt to reveal the little heart that's cut out oh the hip of your panties. 

You snap a picture of your body, Can't wait to see you. 

You hit send, moving over to unlock your window. You walk over, closing the door and locking it, just in case your roommate comes home unexpectedly. 

You stand there, exiting to finally have alone time with Colby.

The last few days have been rough, mainly because him and Sam have been meeting with people about exploring a haunted house nearby. 

You bring you phone up, smiling as you read Colby's text, That sweatshirt would look even better on the floor. 

You instantly move to take off the sweatshirt. You step infront of the mirror, posing for a picture to send to him, how's that? 

He's driving so it's a minute or two later that he gets back to you, leave it on. I'm taking that off of you. 

You smile, Deal. 

You move to sit in the middle of your bed, trying to patiently wait for Colby to arrive. 

It feels like hours until you finally get that, I'm coming up, text. 

You throw your phone to the end of the bed, rising up to sit on your calves. Colby's figure appears in the window and you bite your lip, watching intently as he steps through. 

He reaches behind him, eyes still on you as he closes the window, "Come here." He lunges to you, making you fall backwards onto the bed as his body is over yours. 

His lips attack yours before kissing down your neck. 

His hand travels up and down your side, gripping to pull you closer to him. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans as you tug his hair. 

"Been thinking about being with you all fucking day." He mumbles into your neck as he leaves open kisses up it, "So fucking hot." 

He rolls, causing you to straddle him. His eyes rake up and down your body as his hands slide up your thighs. 

You lift your hands to brush hair off your shoulders, letting it fall down your back, "It feels like forever since I got to actually feel you." You lean down, "I've missed you." 

He tucks your hair behind your ear before sliding his hands to your ass, "I'm here now so you can do whatever you want to me." 

You smirk, "Okay." You move down his legs, a hand sliding down his stomach and slipping up under his shirt. 

You drag your nails over his skin and he gasps as he titles his head back slightly, "Don't tease me, baby." 

You smirk, moving your hands to undo his belt. You pull the leather strap from the metal buckle and unzip his pants, "couldn't make it easy for me, could ya?" 

Colby looks at you, tilting his head, "Maybe if someone wasn't sending me titty pictures and getting me bricked up, I would have." 

You tilt your head, "Now who would do such a thing?"

He lifts his hips so you can shrug his pants down. You slide your hands up his thighs, and over his achingly hard cock that's trapped behind the thin wall of his boxers. 

He lets out a groan, looking down at you. Before he says anything, you pull his boxers away, allowing his cock to spring free. 

He lets his head fall back as you lean in, pressing your lips to the head of it. Your tongue slips out, lapping it around the underside. 

A groan leaves his lips as his hips buck. He reaches down, pushes his boxers away and lays a ring cladded hand on your head, "Fuck, come on baby. Give me more." 

You smirk, keeping your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around the head, slowly working your way down.

He lays his head back, moaning out as he feels you bob up and down on him, your tongue sliding around each time you pause. 

His hand grips your hair, his breathing gets heavier, "So good." 

You bob your head a few more times before he reaches down, cupping your face to pull you off of him, "Get up here." 

You move up, straddling his waist. He reaches up, sliding his hand around your neck to grip and pull you down. 

Your lips crash onto his, moaning out as you feel his hand slide in between your thighs. He adds pressure to your clit, rubbing hard circles. 

You grind down onto his hand, "C-Colby." 

"You like that?" Colby whispers and you nod, brows furrowed, "Y-yes." 

He pulls his hand away, "Sit on my face." 

You look down at him and he nods for you to move up. 

You position yourself over your face and he reaches up, pulling your panties to the side and pulls you down. 

Your one hand instantly goes to his hair while the other one goes to press into the wall in front of you, "Fuck." You breathe out, "Sh-shit. Yes. Yes yes." 

You roll your hips, letting your head fall back, "Oh fuck." 

His tongue slips into you, working its way out them back in. He tilts his head back, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

You tug on his hair, earning another moan from him. 

Your head falls forward and you fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch him enjoy the taste of you. 

The sound of the front door slamming shut, causes you to freeze and look at your closed door, "Sh-it." You tap Colby's head, "My roommate." 

He lifts you up slightly, just enough for you to hear, "I'm not stopping." 

You're shocked at first, but that quickly subsides when his tongue slips back into you and his hands tighten on your waist. 

There's a knock on your door and the doorknob jiggles slightly, "Y/n. You in there?" 

"Y-yeah." You clear your throat quietly, trying to keep your voice steady, "What's up?" 

"Date was a total creep. Decided to ditch. Are you busy?" 

You glance down, "Um.. kind of.." you lay your hand over your mouth, tilting your head back as Colby continues to work you with his tongue. 

"Are you fucking someone?" She laughs slightly, "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'll let.. you.. um.. yeah. Sorry. Ignore me." 

You hear her walk away and the tv in the living room switching on, turning up to a louder volume. 

You look down at Colby and laugh, "Oh my god." 

He nudges you, motioning for you to move and you do before he sits up. You look at him and cover your mouth to muffle your laughter. 

He laughs slightly before he leans in, "You were such a good girl." 

He smirks and kisses your forehead as his hands move up your back to undo your bra. He pulls the straps from your shoulders, down your arms and tosses the fabric to the floor. 

He dips his head down, kissing your neck. You let out a  quiet moan as he sucks a hickey into your neck. Your hands slide up his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He leans back, slipping off his shirt and tossing it before he pulls you into his lap. He keeps your panties pulled to the side as you sink down onto him, burying your face into his neck as you moan. 

Your arm wraps around his neck as you start to move, up and down, rocking your hip, anything to feel him inside of you. 

"Fuck." He breathes out as he lays back, hands tightly gripping your hips, "So fucking good." 

Your boobs slightly bounce with each of your motions. 

Your head falls back slightly as you squeeze his cock, whimpering out as he reaches up to pinch and pull at your nipples. 

"F-fuck." You gasp, wrapping your hand around his wrist. You look down at him, keeping your eyes on his. 

You lean down, lips on his and he swallows your moans easily as his hands slide around to hold you tight against him. 

He thrusts his hips upward, moaning lowly into your ear as he fucks you from underneath, "You feel so fucking good, baby girl. Fucking hell." 

You moan in response, your orgasm rolling in quicker and quicker, "F-fu-" you let out a long moan, unable to form words from all the pleasure that's consuming your body. 

"C'mon, baby. Cum for me." Colby coaches you, "You're so close." 

You nod once, pushing yourself up on his chest and moving your hips in a quick manor, "F-fuck. Fuck." 

You push your hips down and throw your head back, moaning as he picks up fucking you through your high. 

"That's it, that's my girl." Colby brushes hair from your face, cupping your cheek before sliding it down to your neck. 

He flips you onto your back, hand still on your neck as he continues thrusting. 

His grip tightens, squeezing the sides of your neck to slowly cut off your air supply. 

A muffle moan escapes as your eyes roll back. 

Colbys thrusts gradually turn sloppy and it's soon after, he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your waist. 

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to control your breathing for a few seconds. Colby lays next to you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "So.. wanna go for a drive?" 

You laugh slightly, nodding as you look over at him, "I just gotta clean up first." 

He gets up, finding something for you to wipe off with, "Here, babe." You sit up slightly, taking the towel from him. 

"What am I gonna tell her?" You nod to the door and Colby shrugs, "Tell her whatever you want." 

You nod, "Okay I'll just... um.. maybe I'll just climb down the fire escape with you." 

Colby laughs, "You can't just leave her hanging, you gotta tell her something." You nod, "No. You're right." 

You stand up, slipping on the hoodie you stole from Colby and he smirks, "I like that."

You smile, "Thanks. You should see the guy I took it from." 

"Pretty cute?" Colby smiles and you nod, "Very cute." You laugh and walk over to change out of the lacy underwear into a regular pair before slipping on a pair of leggings. 

"Okay." Colby walks over, "I'll drive around and pick you up out front." You nod, "Okay. I'll be out when I can." 

He gently kisses your lips, "I love you." 

You smile, "I love you." 

You walk over with him, watching him climb out of the window and onto the escape. He smiles, giving you a small wave before he starts to descend down. 

You make sure he makes it to the bottom before you close and lock your window. You slip on your shoes and walk over to your door. 

You open it and to your surprise, your roommate is asleep on the couch. 

You quietly make your way to the door, grabbing your keys off the hook before walking out and running down to Colby's car. 

He leans over, opening the door for you and you get in, "She's asleep. I'll wake her up when I get back." 

Colby nods and lays his hand on your leg, "Where to?" 

You lay your hand on his, "Anywhere." 

After a few hours of driving around, you're parked in an empty parking lot, taking and kissing every now and then, just letting it be nothing but you two and the stars. 

"So I was thinking about telling Sam, mainly because he's going to want to know why I just up and left guys night." Colby laughs slightly and you look at him, "Wait. You just-" 

Colby nods, "When your girlfriend is sending you titty pictures and causing you to get a boner in a room full of guys, you'd leave, too." 

You laugh, "Sorrrryyy." 

He pinches your chin gently, "Nah. It's okay. I'm not complaining." 

You smile, leaning your head back on the headrest. You bite your lip, reaching up to write on the fogged up windshield. 

I, you draw a heart, then write you. 

He squeezes your hand, "You have no idea how much I love you." He brings your hand to his lips, pressing them to it, "I know being a secret is a lot harder than being public but I just.." 

"Colby. I understand. I've been around you and Sam for long enough, I know how your fan base can be, but in reality.. if anyone wants to drag my name through the mud for loving you.. then I don't consider them fans." 

He smiles, and leans over to you, "You're right." 

You smile, "I know." You laugh and peck his lips. 

"Speaking of Sam.. The other day, he almost found out about us." Colby looks over at you and you tilt your head, "Oh?" 

Colby smiles, "You just.. you have this thing about you, even when you're not around, that just makes me smile like a fucking idiot every time I see something that reminds me of you and he asked why I was so giddy and I almost said your name." 

You smile, "What did you see?" 

He laughs slightly, "I saw duck, and when it walked by the one bush.. the leaf on the bush looked like it was wearing a hat and I just knew you would find that hilarious." 

You laugh, "Oh my gosh, that's so funny." You nod, "You know me so well." You smile and run your hand through his hair, "Maybe we should tell Sam." 

As Colby pulls his phone out, headlights from a car shine onto Colby's and they get brighter the closer they get. 

"Oh shit." Colby mumbles and you look at him, "do you know who that is?" 

Colby nods, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Yeah. I do." 

The car whips around Colby's and pulls up next to the drivers side. Colby rests his hand down and puts his window down. 

You lean forward, watching as the window of the other car goes down. 

Not only do you see Sam in the drivers seat, but Jake and Johnnie are with and you can't help but laugh, "Oh my god." 

"You mother fuckers are busted." Jake says pointing. 

"I fucking knew it!" Sam yells, "I called that shit months ago." 

"What are you guys doing here?" Colby laughs. He looks to you and shrugs, "I'm sorry." 

You shake your head, "At least we don't have to worry about telling them anymore." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·. Thanks for reading, I'm sorry if this sucked. I haven't been in a writing mood lately, but I know you guys have been waiting, so I hope you enjoyed this. 

Let me know how you liked it. Love ya! 

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!