#flashing the light hoping he lost interest

[bvckleykinard]

my dogs know to run away if a hornet gets too close. my neighbor's dog, however, was just hellbent on catching and eating the one flying around the backdoor just now and refused to come in 🙃

#flashing the light hoping he lost interest #banging a treat on the door trying to catch his attention #finally got him in and I feel like I'm gonna throw up now #everyone pray that this be the last night I gotta do this because the stress it has caused me is fucking ridiculous #christina talks

[thewulf]

Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @michasia24 @alicexvrose @samsgoddess @octoavia @agustdpeach @nescavaneck @casualpruneranchfire @sebastiansstanswhore @kaysolai @samron15 @lillianacristina @ryswritingrecord @bitterest-taste

#aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner au #jack hotchner #x female reader #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds aaron hotch #criminal minds

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

“Are you sure it’s not too cold?” 

“It’s fine.” You glance down at Emmaline in the stroller, wrapped up in a blanket over her little winter jacket, fuzzy wool hat pulled down around her ears. “It’s not nearly chilly enough to be concerned. She’s probably overdressed, to be honest. In Norway, they leave babies outside to sleep in much colder temperatures.” 

“Why?” He keeps pace beside you, strolling along the park’s walking path leisurely, trying to keep his heart rate normal every time your hip bumps his thigh, or you nudge him with your elbow. 

“It helps their immune system, I think. Exposes them to the germs in their environment, allows them to build resistance, or something. Plus, the climate there is naturally cold? So, I think it helps acclimatize them. Pretty sure some people say they sleep better.” 

“That’s… brave of them.” He doesn’t know what else to say, he can’t imagine trusting the world enough to leave a baby, leave Emma, outside to sleep. 

“It’s different, I guess, when you have a ‘village’,” you use air quotes around the word village, and regret flashes across your eyes. “when you trust your community. Rely on them.” He doesn’t expect the longing that rings in your voice, the doleful, twisted tone of loss, a mournful sentiment that has him nearly pulling up short, slowing to a stop to tilt his head in consideration, his eyes above the mask zeroed in on yours until you’re giving him a meek smile and shrug. “Anyway,”

“Sweet-“ 

“I feel like we’re always talking about me or Emma. How about you? How was your week?” You pause, something occurring to you, pushing your lips forward with curiosity. “I know you said you travel for work, but I don’t think you ever told me what you did?” Shit. He’s not ready for this. He tries to recall how he practiced it with Johnny, the words that they agreed upon, the approach he would take. 

“Ye gotta make it sound at least somewhat normal, LT. Make her feel safe about it.”

“’m not goin’ lie to her.” 

“It’s not lyin’. Just, use the official language. The propaganda stuff, y’know.” 

He knows what he’s supposed to say, the lengthy spiel about ‘managing global conflict’ and ‘identifying and neutralizing domestic and global threats’, the words Johnny had suggested, but instead, what comes out is; “I’m uh, in the military. In a multi-national spec ops task force that focuses on counter terrorism. We operate from of a base just outside the city.” The park bustles around the three of you, runners and walkers circumventing where you’ve slowed to a crawl on the crushed gravel path, families tugging at one another, boys and girls hopping with excitement over promises from their parents. 

“That’s… interesting.” You say the words slowly, like you’re mulling them over, considering them. “Is it dangerous?” 

“Only sometimes.” You raise an eyebrow like you don’t believe him, skepticism plain as day, and he concedes. “It’s not a desk job, but I’m very good at it.” He wants to reassure you, desperate to keep the hope alive that’s been building in his heart for you, needs you to feel safe with him. The water is in sight now, ducks and swans floating on top of the glass like surface, waiting for their offerings that come from so many that frequent their little lake, every day. You motion to an empty bench, turning the stroller in it’s direction, his breath still caught in his chest, lack oxygen starting to make him feel woozy. Say something. Say anything. 

“Emmaline’s dad had a dangerous job too.” You unbuckle her from the stroller, cradling her in your lap as you nestle into one end of the bench, eyes fixed on the group of ducks closest to the shore. “And he was good at it.” 

“Is that how you lost him?” He concludes softly, the question as gentle as he can voice it. You don’t look at him, but he can see the change in your face, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, posture curling over your baby. 

You only nod, but it’s enough. Enough for him to slide a little closer, pressing the outside of his leg to yours. Enough that your free hand wanders, fingers brushing against the fabric of his jeans, your face lifting from the water to his with a question. 

“Can you hold her? While I get the biscuits?”

“Of course.” You shift her into his arms, and he straightens her so that she’s sitting up against his chest, crook of his arm supporting her head, other hand flush with her belly. You rummage inside the bag that’s shoved under the stroller, Emma’s backpack, and she coos at you from Simon’s arms. “Is that your mum?” He murmurs, and she gurgles something in response, a happy string of sounds that has his heart warming inside his chest. “Yeah, that’s her huh?” You straighten, bag in your hand, watching him and Emma, sad expression turning beatific, bittersweet smile pulling at your lips. 

“Come on.” You don’t reach for the baby, instead motioning for Simon to follow you, trusting him to carry her down behind you, to hold her as you as break up the little pieces of biscuit. “I promised her some ducks.” 

#peaches writes #light on #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader

[janaispunk]

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance. 

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips. 

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you. 

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did. 

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words. 

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away. 

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you. 

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids. 

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again. 

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room. 

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?” 

You grin at him over the rim of your cup, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him. 

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water. 

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him. 

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year. 

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand. 

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much. 

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body. 

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry. 

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number. 

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd. 

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man. 

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand. 

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you. 

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him. 

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again. 

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last. 

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is. 

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest. 

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher. 

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens. 

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle. 

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being. 

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now. 

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips. 

“You alright, princess?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him. 

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher. 

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body. 

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you. 

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him. 

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him. 

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin. 

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body. 

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you. 

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat. 

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste. 

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length. 

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you. 

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky. 

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head. 

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak. 

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more. 

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin. 

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh. 

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…” 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?” 

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head. 

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp. 

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips. 

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion. 

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more. 

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you. 

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile. 

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed. 

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours. 

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.” 

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?” 

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek. 

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #pedro pascal #game of thrones #oberyn martell fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: delicate

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: Its 1935 and you've been sent on the Liner Normandie to retrieve a stolen painting. You have six suspects and the clock is ticking — you only have four days before the ship reaches New York to find it. But soon, you find yourself caught up in something even more serious than you could have believed.

Warnings: getting hit in the head with a bottle, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, stalker behavior, light misogyny(?), guns, needles, violence

Word count: 11.7k

DAY 1 — Debark

The ship towers over you like a mad giant. Gray smoke rises from the two forward funnels. It’s the biggest in the world, bigger than any man made object that can float. You shake your head. Focus. You’re not here for pleasure. You continue your way over to the terminal. The agency sent you in hopes of finding the lost painting, no one else. You need to stay focused, they’re counting on you.

Without questioning, you give the fake ID to the man behind the desk. When you had started out as an agent, you were always nervous that your covers would be blown and you would be found out. Nowadays, you’ve noticed that if you look nervous, risk are that you’ll be asked questions. 

You walk over the gangway with your bag in hand. You have just above four days to find the painting — a very famous portrait of a woman with her head slightly turned to the viewer, wearing a big, blank pearl earring. It was stolen from the Mauritshuis in the Netherlands two weeks ago, and details have revealed that it has been taken to France, and will be moved to America on the SS Normandie. The painting itself isn’t insanely big, but the fuss about it’s disappearance is. You have to find it at all cost. 

Before you got here, you had time to take a look at the passenger list. There are six people you recognise, where of five could be your potential smugglers. 

Silas Achilleos, a mob boss wanted by the police, and his second in command. A man like him was probably not interested in paintings, but he could have clients who did. And those could pay him heaps of money. 

Edmund of Vesanus, a young king who likes the bachelor life. He surrounds himself with loads of women and alcohol, partying like nothing matters. He would take the painting because he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. He’s traveling with his doctor, a certain Karl Kry who you don’t know much about. 

Hedwig Carter, a young heiress who’s father is noble, and who's mother is famous in the acting business is traveling with a young woman named Jerry Kim, someone you guess is Hedwig’s chaperone. Hedwig is known for getting whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and if she wants a painting … she will get it. Jerry, however, does not have much information out in the open. Everything about her before she started to work for Hedwig is wiped away. You want to know who she is and where she comes from, and what she would want a painting for.

You walk down the stairs to your cabin on A-deck and start to pack up, using the second bed in the room to store your bag. After settling in, you decide to take a look around this magnificent vessel to get familiar with it. You make your way up to the promenade deck and give the open cinema by the stairs a quick look. You guess that they’re going to put on movies once the ship reaches open water. If you’re lucky you’ll see something interesting. And hopefully, you have the time to watch it. 

The promenade is enclosed decorated with a gray floor, comfortable deck chairs and clear windows. A line in the tricolor fashion runs along the floor, as if to show where to walk. You walk on the line, flashing a little childish smile. You’ve left Le Havre and are on your way out towards the Atlantic’s open arms. The clock is ticking. 

Your eyes lock onto someone walking towards you and you immediately realize that it is Hedwig and her chaperone, an east asian girl … wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. You don’t realize how obvious it is that you’re staring until the woman opens her mouth and you realize that they’ve stopped right in front of you. 

“What are you staring at, sir?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and putting her hands in her pockets. “If you want to say something, do it.”

“No—no, sorry”, you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Tell me, do you approve of women who wear pants?” 

It sure looks weird, but is it? When you think about it, aren't pants just pieces of the same fabric as skirts, just sewn differently?

“Uh, I … suppose so.”

To that, Jerry nods approvingly.

“I don’t see why only men should wear pants”, she says.

“Well, I don't feel comfortable wearing them”, Hedwig chuckles nervously and smiles softly. “But they fit you, Jerry. They really do.”

“You must be miss Carter”, you say, as if you don't know, and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, please call me Hedwig! Who are you?” 

“I’m Axel Ainsworth, I'm in the art industry.”

Hedwig’s smile widens. “That is very interesting, I love art. Especially portraits. Capturing humanity’s differences and details are magical. Don’t you think so, Jerry?”

“I’m more for that new thing — surrealism, I think it’s called — where everything is here and there and weird to believe”, Jerry says, shrugging. “But portraits can be okay too, depending on what type.” 

Hedwig has turned her eyes to you, glued them onto you as if you are the only thing she could ever see. “Are you traveling alone, mister Ainsworth?” she asks. 

You have remembered your entire forged background and learned it skillfully. Even your fake name rolls off the tongue as smoothly as if it was your real name. You're traveling alone because you're on your way home to your fiancé from a business trip. 

“I see”, Hedwig smiles and turns to the woman next to her. “Let me introduce you to my chaperone, miss Jerry Kim. You're always welcome to sit with us during dinner. We'd be more than happy to accompany you.”

“I'm grateful to know that, miss.”

With that said, the two women walk away. You frown and sigh. Hedwig seems like a very sweet young woman, it’d be a shame if it was her who was the culprit. Her chaperone, on the other hand, gives you weird vibes. Something about the look in her eyes … as if she’s looking right through you, scanning you. 

You continue down the promenade until you turn into the Winter Garden, a half moon-shaped room full of plants and lamps and big, wide windows, overlooking the special shaped bow that has given Normandie the speed it has. Passengers have already started gathering in the Winter Garden to talk to friends and family and watch how Normandie makes her way out onto the Atlantic. None of them resembles the men you’re looking for. You continue your way through the ship, eventually finding yourself in the smoking room on the embarkment deck, where you had stepped onto the ship. You had only glanced at the room before, but now when you’re standing in the smoking room — and very well the lounge since they’re connected — you realize how stupid you must have been to miss it. There must be ten meters up to the ceiling, you think, and bigger than a concert hall. A long, grey staircase leads up to the outside deck. The art deco interior is modern and sleek, but the whip overall has a classic, conservative design that reminds you of the great liners of the old age. You sigh while thinking of the Mauretania and the Olympic, Britain's biggest rivals which now are laid up in Jarrowtown, side by side, ready to be scrapped. There’s something melancholy about it all, and at the same time something beautiful, starting as enemies and now ending it all under the same flag, together. 

You shake your head. Focus. Your eyes catch someone standing by the windows, someone very familiar. Silas and his right hand man. You move closer, trying to hear what they’re talking about.

“I’m not complaining, I just think that it is annoying that it has to take four days to get to America”, Silas mutters and takes a whiff off his cigar. 

“Any other ship would take double the time, sir”, his second in command says apologetically. “I doublechecked.”

“I don’t like being in one place for too long.”

“See it as a vacation. You’re deserving of it. Let’s enjoy some good food, alcohol and some company. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t like to be in one place too long. Especially when we know that they're on board!”

You furrow your brows. Who?

“Nothing will happen.”

Silas hums and smokes again. You’ve stood by the windows a few meters away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. Silas turns his eyes to you. 

“You, sir”, he says, pointing at you with his cigar. 

You look away from the ocean. Both Silas and his second in command have turned to you, their dark eyes looking right at you. 

“Yes?” you ask. 

“Is it true that the Normandie keeps her speed?” Silas asks. “No matter the weather?”

“I believe so, sir.”

Silas nods in satisfaction. “Good.”

You decide to try to get some information out of him. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know that you’re out to get him. To him, you’re just another first class passenger. 

“Are you in a hurry?” you wonder. 

“You could say that”, Silas sighs and turns his eyes out the window again. 

You hold out your hand. “I’m Axel Ainsworth.”

Silas second in command gives him a short look before his boss shakes your hand. His grip is hard, firm. 

“You can call me Silas”, he says. “No need for a surname.” He takes another blow on the cigar. “What brings you out on the ocean like this?”

“I’ve been on a business trip, but now I’m going home to my fiancé”, you say, pretending to smile at the thought of your made up fiancé.

“What business are you in?”

“Art.”

Silas lifts one of black his eyebrows. “Art?”

His second in command straightens his back. 

“Yes, sir”, you say. 

“Are you a … painter?” Silas wonders. 

“God no, I can’t handle a brush even if my life depended on it. I’m an art trader, I help people sell their paintings for the right price.”

“I see. Well, one can’t do everything.” He blows a cloud of smoke. “Have you traveled on this ship before, Axel?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’m not unfamiliar with the ocean, I used to travel a lot on the older ships in my younger days.”

“Then I suppose you have a favorite?”

You think for a second. “I did like that Cunarder, the Lusitania … such a shame Germany sunk it.”

“You never know which ships are safe or not, just look at that Titanic fiasco. They thought it was the safest ship afloat. Yeah, sure it was.” Silas shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise if this peace of junk also sinks. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well …”

Silas’s second in command taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Silas frowns and nods before turning to you. 

“It was nice speaking with you, but I have some business to deal with”, he says shortly. 

“Have a good day”, you say. 

Silas nods politely and leaves. You follow him and his second in command with your eyes until they’ve left the smoking room. He was nicer than you had anticipated. 

Your next suspect, you find in the dining hall that evening. You’ve met up with Hedwig and Jerry in the reception. Hedwig is wearing a pink evening gown with pink gloves. Her honey blonde hair is curled and put up with hairpins. Jerry is wearing a dark purple, sleeveless dress, showing a couple tattoos. In her short, black hair, there’s a little decoration that reminds you of a flower. She's wearing dark lipstick, in contrast to Hedwig who wears a Hollywood red.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I dressed ladylike”, she mutters. 

“I think that you look gorgeous, Jerry”, Hedwig smiles and takes her hand. 

“I guess that it isn’t that bad.”

“I like your tattoos”, you say. “Where did you get them from?”

“A tattoo artist, of course.” She then twists her arm to show something on the inner side of her bicep. “Okay, I made this one myself.”

You step closer, seeing a small heart tattooed on her arm. 

“That’s cute”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry smiles smugly. “Hurts like hell though.”

“I can imagine.”

The stewards allow you into the dining room and — for what feels like the thousand time today — you’re amazed by the interior. Silver walls with golden ceiling and art decor wherever you could see. In the middle of the long dining hall, there’s a gigantic, golden statue of a woman. 

Hedwig and Jerry leads you to a table and sit down. That’s when you see your last suspects. They’re walking through the dining hall, dressed in tuxedos. The king can’t be more than twenty years old. His doctor is a minimum of fifteen years older. 

“You son of a bitch”, he says suddenly and looks at the table you’re sitting at. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig’s eyes widen in shock.

“Edmund, what are you doing here?” she asks with a smile. “Sit with us, please.”

The king and his doctor sit down at your table. 

“Good evening”, the blonde doctor says and shakes yours and Jerry's hand before introducing himself. “I’m Doctor Kry.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Axel Ainsworth”, you say. 

“This is king Edmund.”

You’re about to shake his hand, but Doctor Kry removes your hand. 

“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t shake people’s hands”, he whispers. 

“Oh, I see”, you say. 

The king gives you a bored look. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty”, you tell him politely. 

“How do you know Hedwig?” he asks shortly. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“We met today”, Hedwig smiles. “Axel, Edmund is my relative. It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

“I’ve told you to visit.”

“I know.”

“Are you that much of a hypochondriac that you need a doctor to accompany you while you’re traveling?” Jerry chuckles. 

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” Edmund mutters coldly. 

“She’s my chaperone”, Hedwig explains.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Your majesty, maybe you should think about your language”, Doctor Kry says. “We are around others.”

Edmund rolls his eyes before looking at you in a bored manner. 

“Tell me”, he says, “where do you come from, mister Ainsworth?”

You ramble your rehearsed background. Edmund nods along with you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit that place”, Doctor Kry says. “I’ve heard that it is a beautiful city.”

“It is”, you say. 

“And now you’re going to America”, Edmund says. “What were you doing in France?”

“I was on a business trip.”

“What type?”

It strikes you as odd. He doesn’t sound interested, but still he asks you curious questions. 

“I’m in the art business”, you say.

“What for?” Edmund wonders.

“Art is beautiful and should be getting what it is worth.”

“I like art”, Doctor Kry. “I would do anything to see the Mona Lisa.”

“Why didn’t you visit it when you were in France?” Hedwig wonders. 

“We didn’t have time … Edmund didn’t want to go there.”

“Why should I squash together with other people to see paintings?” Edmund scoffs. “If I want to see a painting, I get it for myself. That’s that.”

“But do you like art, your majesty?” you ask. 

“Everyone likes art”, Edmund replies nonchalantly. “That’s what gives life meaning.”

“Have you read a certain story, Edmund, called ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’?” Jerry asks with a teasing smile. “Thought that it’d fit you.”

The story is about a man who wants nothing more than to remain youthful … to the point where he has a painting of himself where all of his sins can be seen. In the end, the picture is as gruesome as can be, but Dorian himself is as youthful as he started.

“Oh, shut up, Jerry”, Edmund mutters angrily. “One day, I’ll teach you manners, believe me.”

Jerry smirks. 

You eat dinner together with the young king and the doctor. Afterward, to soothe your aching stomach, the five of you walk up to the outside promenade deck to get some fresh air. You strut under the lifeboats, under the stars. Above you, a big luminous sign spells out the name 'NORMANDIE’, casting a soft light on you. Doctor Kry has lent his blazer to Hedwig, and you’ve tried to offer yours to Jerry who refused before you had the time to open your mouth.

“Ladies, I think it’s time for you to retreat”, Edmund says, sounding sweeter than before. “It’s starting to get late.”

“The evening is young”, Jerry insists. 

“I’m tired”, Hedwig yawns.  

“Jerry, be a good girl and bring Hedwig to your cabin”, Edmund grits. “Please. I’m not fighting with you again.”

Jerry rolls her eyes, removes the doctor’s blazer and tells you goodnight. Hedwig gives you and Edmund a hug. Her flowery perfume clogs up your nose, dulls your head for a moment. The three of you wish the girls a pleasant evening and continue walking. 

“Hedwig is a stupid girl”, Edmund says, strolling slowly. “One can’t help but want to take care of her.”

“She seems very sweet”, you admit. 

“She is. Just very naive. I’ve promised her father that I’m going to take care of her whenever I meet her.”

“Her chaperone is … interesting”, Doctor Kry remarks. 

“God, yes, I hate her!”

“What is it about her that you don’t like?” you ask curiously. 

“I do not like girls like her. Did you see her tattoos? She often walks around in man’s clothing and I don’t think it’s fitting for a woman — especially someone that is close to my relative. I don’t want her influencing Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, your majesty”, Doctor Kry says calmly. “I think Hedwig is going to be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I’m glad for, it is that Hedwig is predictable.” He groans. “I need a cigar. Let’s go to the smoking room.” Edmund turns around to give you a look. “Axel, are you joining?” 

“I don’t know”, you reply. “It’s the first day, I’m still tired from embarking.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to bed now.” He looks at his expensive watch. “The clock is ten. Stay one hour.”

You give up and follow them to the smoking room. Maybe it is for the best. If you want to get close to them, you’ll need to spend as much time observing them as you can. 

Sitting with them in the smoking room, you find that Silas and his second in command aren't here among the other men. You frown, thinking that they would be here since they were earlier. 

When you’re allowed to leave, two hours later, your mind is fogged up by smoke and whiskey. You make your way through the empty corridors to your cabin, closing and locking it behind you. Tiredly, you sink down on your bed and sigh out. You have observed them, and talked with them the entire day, and yet you haven’t figured out who could be hiding the painting. They all seem interested in art. They all could have taken it. 

There's so many questions. What kind of doctor is Kry? Where did Jerry come from and why is there no information about her? Why would someone like Hedwig hire her as her chaperone? And who is that person that Silas doesn't want on board? Is there someone you haven't accounted for, someone else that can have stolen the painting?

You hide your face in your hands and groan. Three days left.

DAY 2 — Sea

You wake up early, get ready and head out into the corridor. You lock the cabin door behind you, feeling the handle to make sure that it is locked and make your way to the Winter Garden to have a cup of coffee. The large windows give you a wide view of the calm ocean. The sun rises up from the blue water in a magical sense that has you hypnotized. It's all so very quiet and relaxing.

After your cup of coffee, you stretch your muscles, and contemplate going down to the swimming pool to take a few laps, to warm up your muscles and clear your head for the day's work. You pay the purser and make your way down to the swimming pool on D deck. The tile walls are covered with art that reminds you of ancient Greece and the new, abstract type of paint. The pool itself was formed as a long rectangle with curved corners, green steel ladders, and a steep and a shallow part. Throughout the shallow part, there were thick, dull spikes, likely to stop children from going out into the deep end. 

Despite being the early hours of the first morning on board, someone is already in the water. Doctor Kry.

“Good morning”, he says. “You’re up early.”

“So are you”, you reply.

“I always need to clear my head before starting the day.”

“What about the king? Is he swimming too?”

“Don't kid around. He doesn’t wake up until nine. I wouldn’t be able to get him out of bed before that anyways. He’s a very deep sleeper and hates getting woken up.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Where do you have your cabin?” you ask. 

“On the promenade deck, one of the suites. A-54.”

Bingo. 

“Why do you ask?” Doctor Kry wonders.

“I was just thinking that since the king doesn't want to be disturbed, choosing the right cabin place is important.”

“Did we choose a good cabin then?”

You nod, despite not knowing a single thing about cabin placements. The only thing you're aware of is to be as far away from the noisy engine room as possible.

Perhaps if you asked the purser, you could get the number of the other cabins. He, if anyone, should have the passenger list. 

You glance back at Doctor Kry who's still hanging by the side of the pool. This is your time to investigate him. You slowly get into the water.

“Such a shame that you didn't get to visit the Mona Lisa”, you say as you start to swim. “It's a very pretty painting.”

“So I've heard”, Doctor Kry says slowly.

“My favorite painting is ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’, have you had the opportunity to see it?”

He's quiet for a second.

“I haven't”, he says, sounding low. “I guess that, an art trader like you, must be troubled by its disappearance.”

“Of course”, you answer.  

At this point, a detective and an art trader don't seem like different things, especially since both would be looking for the same thing.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder.

“It depends”, Doctor Kry says. “Go ahead.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but why doesn't his majesty like Jerry?”

“He is very old fashioned. He doesn't think that women should be dressed in pants or have tattoos. Edmund is very self centered, yes, but he's also very possessive of the ones he holds dear — example being miss Hedwig. As you may know, his parents were murdered by enemies to the monarchy and ever since, the only relatives that have been in his life have been Hedwig and her family. They're very close in age too — Hedwig being eighteen and Edmund nineteen — which has been a very important thing for him. He sees her as a friend, maybe his only friend. So having someone that could potentially blemish his friend and only family is a threat to Edmund.”

“Then why does Hedwig have Jerry?”

“I don't know. It could be because of a teenage revolt. Jerry is different to everything that Hedwig has ever known … and now that she's eighteen she might want to try something new.”

“Do you think that Edmund is worried about her? Because of Jerry?”

“I wouldn't say worried, because the only thing the king worries about is himself, but I think that there's something along those lines. I think that he sees Hedwig as an extended part of himself rather than her own person.”

You nod carefully.

“I wonder where Hedwig found Jerry”  you say. “How someone like her could get the job as Hedwig’s chaperone. Do you know where she comes from?”

Doctors Kry suddenly laughs.

“You ask an awful amount of questions this early in the morning”, he says and gets out of the water. “I'm sorry, I don't have more answers for you, Axel.”

You look up at him, where he stands on the tile floor. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“You remind me of a little boy”, he says and lowers his eyes onto your physic. “You're awfully trained to be an art trader. One could think that you were an Olympian.”

“Shouldn't a doctor be pleased that I am taking care of myself?”

“I am. You look good, healthy.  Just found it humorous.” He wipes away a few drops of water trying to go into his blue eyes. “I suppose that I will see you later. Goodbye, Axel.”

“Goodbye.”

You decide to do a few more laps around the swimming pool before getting up and drying yourself. Tomorrow morning, you will sneak into Edmund’s and Doctor Kry’s cabin to see if the painting is in there. But for now, you need to go to the purser. 

You change into your suit. In the front pocket, you keep a little commonplace book to take notes. You  make your way back to the pursers office. The man behind the desk gives you a service smile and asks how he can help you. 

“Do you happen to have the passenger list?” you ask. “I would like to know where some people’s cabins are located.”

“What is your name?” the purser wonders. 

“Axel Ainsworth.”

“Who are you wanting to find?”

“Hedwig Carter and Silas Achilleos.”

The purser disappears into his office. You wait impatiently, suddenly feeling watched. Carefully, you glance over your shoulder, but the only ones in eyesight are two men who are conversing. The purser returns. You fish out your notebook, ready to note it down. 

“Miss Carter has cabin B-23 and Mister Achilleos has cabin A-11.”

You write it down. “Thank you.”

With that said, you leave to go to the staircase. You’re not sure where to go, so you decide to take a stroll down the enclosed promenade while thinking. Doctor Kry knows more, you think, but he doesn’t want to tell. 

You sit down on one of the deck chairs to write down what you have gotten to know, so that you won’t forget any important information. You write down the suspects' motives to steal the painting, Silas’s weird enemy, their relation to each other — which only connects Edmund, Kry, Jerry and Hedwig — as well as the answers that you have gotten from Doctor Kry earlier today. Who has the painting? Your first instinct says that Doctor Kry doesn’t have it, because he’s not interested in that painting. Had it been the Mona Lisa, things would have been different, but this painting doesn’t interest him. That doesn’t mean that the painting couldn’t be in his room, though, because Edmund could still want to have it. 

You stand up after a while and continue walking. Your eyes fixate on something in the distance. A woman dressed in pants talking to a man in a suit that seems to be hiding in the corner of the promenade. You frown. 

What does Jerry have to do with Silas's second in command? 

You want to move closer, but you don’t want to expose yourself. You’ll have to change the relations in your notes, because there’s clearly something more than you’ve been led to know. 

What if Jerry’s lack of background has something to do with the mafia? It would explain her tattoos … that or being a sailor. But because of what you've just witnessed you can most likely scratch the latter. A shiver runs down your spine. If Jerry is dangerous, then Hedwig could be too. You stop in your tracks. Hedwig? Really? Edmund said it himself, she's a stupid, naive girl. Could she be dangerous?

You walk up to the open deck in the stern of the first class accommodations where you find a few kids playing something reminding you of curling. You sit down on the zig-zag benches placed out on the deck and watch them. They notice you looking and ask you to join them, so you do. You decide that maybe you can pleasure yourself in a harmless children's game for a few minutes, and continue the mission after.

When lunchtime rolls around, you make your way down to the dining hall. It's emptier than yesterday evening. You find Silas and his second in command sit by a table. Silas notices you and waves you over. Your feet bring you to him.

“Sorry to cut our talk short yesterday, Axel”, he says politely and gesticulates at the chair in front of him. “Sit down. Let me buy you lunch.”

And so, he does. You sit down and try your best not to glance at the second in command who’s black eyes burn through you. Your stomach twists. 

You both get lamb, something you have eaten many times before. Still, it tastes better at sea.

“What did you say that you were here for again?” Silas asks suddenly as he’s cutting his meat.

His voice sounds different from yesterday. You clear your throat to make sure that your voice won’t shiver.

“I’ve been on a business trip”, you say. “And now I’m going home.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I mean is that you didn’t tell me why you were in France. What kind of business trip was it? What did you do? I know that you were there for art, but what do one do on an art business trip? You have to forgive me for being curious.”

“I was meeting some people from the Louvre.”

“I see. About what?”

“Art’s future, how to make sure they don’t break or smudge or get tainted by the sun. And how to protect them. You must have heard about ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’ missing?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t it weird that someone would steal that painting? Why not a Monet painting? Or the Mona lisa?”

“I don’t know. Maybe taking one of them would be too big of a deal. Maybe the one taking the painting thought that since it isn’t one of the most cherished, they’d have an easier time taking it … that the commotion about it would die out sooner or later.”

“Perhaps.” 

You’ve noticed that you haven’t heard the second in command’s voice at all, beside the talk he had with Silas yesterday. He doesn’t speak to anyone else than Silas … and Jerry. You still don’t dare look at him, scared that he will see right through you and know that you’ve seen him talk to her. You wonder what they were talking about.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?” Silas asks.

“Yes, I did”, you reply.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, I didn’t. I chit-chatted with some people here and there, but kept mostly to myself.”

“You do good in that. You never know who you can trust on a big ship as this. You never know who wants you good or not.”

“Why are you traveling, Silas?” you ask innocently. “You said that you were impatient to get to America. Is there a reason?”

“Of course. Everything has a reason. But I don’t think I can share that with you. At least I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Silas turns his black eyes to you and smiles slightly. His hungry gaze makes you freeze. He had seemed so sweet yesterday, but you finally see a slice of what makes him so terrifying. 

“Because someone like you shouldn’t know that”, he smiles. 

“I understand”, you say and take a piece of food into your mouth, to avoid speaking further.

“You have to excuse my man here”, Silas says and nods at his second in command. “He’s the shy type. He goes wherever I go, so you have to get used to him.”

“Is he your bodyguard?” you wonder. 

“You could say that. But I’m always prepared in case someone wants to attack me.”

He opens his blazer, showing you a revolver tucked into the fabric. You have your own in your suitcase. Walking around with it feels too risky, but maybe you’ll have to go get it. In case anything happens.

After lunch, you’re left with a weird feeling in your stomach. You have talked with him for an hour, about everything between heaven and earth … and yet it feels like you have been having two conversations in one — one on the surface and one real. 

You walk to your cabin and press down the door handle and walk into the room. The first thing that strikes you as odd is that there’s a new smell in the air. A flowery scent. You can swear that you have felt it before. Without a second to waste, you open your bag and pick up your gun, putting it in your suit. Quickly, you turn around, realizing something. Didn’t you lock the door when you went out this morning?

That evening, you spend dinner with the two girls and stay in the smoking room with Edmund for what feels like an eternity. Edmund wants to play a deck of cards with you. He seems a bit more relaxed than yesterday and even smiles a bit. 

After your games against Edmund, you decide to retreat. You walk down the long, dimly lit corridor. The narrow spaces feel almost ominous at night time, although barely any daylight reaches here at daytime either. You glance over your shoulder every tenth step, hesitating, can't help but feel watched. Your hand reaches for your gun, but before you have time to get it, someone reaches up behind you and smashes something heavy in your head. Everything turns black.

DAY 3 — SEA

“He's waking up.”

Your eyes feel like lead, and your head is even heavier. It takes a few tries to open your eyes and when you finally manage to, you want nothing more than to close them again. For a few seconds, you wonder if you're dreaming. They're all here, looking down at you. You look around and notice that they've tied your hands and feet, and left you on the floor at the end of the bed, with your back against the footrest.

You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Just a bit past one in the morning. The third day has begun. You have been blacked out for three hours.

Your head is pounding, making it hard to think clearly.

Jerry bends down, grabs your chin and turns your head back and forth to inspect the damage caused on your head.

“He'll live”, she says and gives your cheek a quick, but harsh, tap.

“Well, well, Y/N”, Silas says, smirking. “You're a bit nosy aren't you?”

The mention of your name causes you to twitch and widen your eyes. In your dulled stage, you wonder if you've heard wrong, but the smirk in their faces confirm that you have, indeed, not lost your hearing.

“So, you were the agent”, Silas continues and shrugs. “I gotta admit, I was hoping that it wasn't you.”

“You were smart-”, Doctor Kry starts. 

“But not smart enough”, Edmund cuts him off sharply with his arms crossed over his chest. “‘Art dealer’, yeah, sure. A detective dealing with art. That's not the same, Y/N, if you didn't know that.”

Silas picks up something from his pocket, a small commonplace book. 

“‘Suspects are all interested in art, could be any of them’”, he reads out loud. “‘J involved with S? Talked with SIC.’ Jerry? Involved with me? Talked with my second in command? You seem to have it all written down.”

“I was involved with Silas”, Jerry says. “I know his second in command very well.”

“How—How did you … know?” you ask, baffled. “Were you all in on it?”

“Not from the start, no”, Doctor Kry says. “I only knew Edmund and had met Hedwig before. I didn’t even know Jerry, Silas or his second in command.”

You quickly realize that Jerry is the linking chain between them. She linked Hedwig, Edmund and Kry to Silas and his second in command. 

“I had already been informed and knew that there would be someone on this ship out to get me”, Silas says. “I heard that Jerry was on board and caught up with her. She told me that she and Hedwig had met you. It was her that thought it was weird that you asked all of us about art. My men dug, and found out your real identity. My men saw you speaking with the purser, hearing you ask for our cabins and decided to tell it all to me and my second in command, who told Jerry … who told the others.”

“You have more men?” you ask and can’t hide how shocked you get.

“Of course. You don’t think I would go on board with only one man? Do you think I'm stupid, darling? You, on the other hand, probably should have had someone, at least.” 

“Awfully inconsiderate of your bosses, don't you think, to send you all alone?” Jerry says.

“You were looking for this, weren’t you?” Edmund asks and pulls out something from a wooden box behind him. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. The painting.

“Who—Who had it?” you can’t help but question, gulping between the first word. 

“Me, of course”, Edmund says with an offended, yet proud scoff. “It will do nicely in my castle.”

“Now, little Y/N, you know”, Silas says. “Are you happy now? Your mystery is solved.”

Your head hurts too much to answer. You’re not sure if you’re happy. You have learned where the painting disappeared, but you’re tied and hurt, and in the enemies’ grasp. A mixed bag, so to say. 

“I can’t watch the blood”, Hedwig suddenly says and stands up from the armchair she's sitting on. 

She has been the only one that hasn’t smirked at you and seems genuinely apologetic that you're here, but you don't trust that damsel in distress look anymore. She pushes through the others to reach you with a wet handkerchief in her hands. Carefully, she kneels down in front of you and wipes the wet cloth against your forehead. She wipes away the dried blood gently.

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, coming your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly. 

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says. “But you will have to stay in here, I’m afraid. You probably understand that we cannot let someone like you wander around the ship.”

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.” He gives you a testing look before turning to his new companions. “Oh, and one more thing …” He picks up a familiar revolver, spinning it around his hand. “... thank you for the free gun.”

You want to curse at him, but keep quiet for your own sake.

“It's late, the ladies should head to bed”, he says, gesturing for Hedwig and Jerry to leave. “We need to keep someone here to make sure that our little Golden Boy won't free himself and run around, causing trouble.”

“I can take the first shift”, Doctor Kry says and golds up a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.

“Do not harm him, you hear me?” Silas tells him warningly. “I want him alive, coherent and unharmed.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Edmund questions angrily. “In this cabin? Now that I'll have people staring at me?”

“You and Doctor Kry will take Y/N’s cabin”, Silas says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Stop being so spoiled, your majesty.”

“Won't that be suspicious?” Silas’s second in command questions. “If they see the young king exit and enter someone else's cabin instead of his own?”

“No one knows his cabin”, Silas says as if things were obvious. “Besides, we're in New York tomorrow anyways. It won't be a problem.” He turns to the others. “Scatter.”

The five of them walk out, leaving you and Doctor Kry alone. The doctor sits down in one of the two armchairs in front of you with a long, tired sigh. In his hand, he twirls the syringe.

“What is that?” you mutter.

“Something that will make you go to sleep if you're trying to escape”, Doctor Kry says simply, as if he was talking about watering flowers.

“Why did you hit me in the head if you had that instead?” you ask bitterly.

“Because it wasn't me, it was the second in command and Jerry.”

“Did you lie down in the swimming pool? About not knowing where Jerry came from?”

“No, Y/N, why would I? I told you that I didn't know anything. I didn't get to know until this afternoon.”

“And yet you're quick to jump the wagon to get me killed. I thought doctors were supposed to be nice.”

“I’ve never said that I was nice.”

“What do you gain from this? Why do you want to engage in collusion with people like this? What kind of doctor even are you?”

“Still, with all these questions … look, Y/N, it’s late. You’d do good in trying to get some sleep.”

“On the floor? With my head pounding in pain? With my hands and feet tied?”

“Suit yourself.”

There’s a deadly silence after that. You listen to the sounds the Normandie creates, and somehow wishes that she could save you, but you’re trapped within her, there’s nothing to be done. You rest your head back onto the edge of the footrest and sigh heavily. Doctor Kry looks at his syringe as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed.

“I'm thirsty”, you say after a while. 

Doctor Kry stands up, walks over to the dressing table where a crystal carafe is waiting and pours you a glass. He returns to you and holds the glass to your lips, making you drink. You gulp it down and breathe heavily. Doctor Kry returns to his armchair. 

You don't know how long you've been sitting on the floor before you start to fall asleep. You thought that you wouldn't, not in this position (figuratively and literally) but you somehow fall asleep. 

“Wakey wakey, Golden Boy.”

You feel someone poke your head to the side multiple times and open your eyes to see Jerry hold a stick in her hand which she's using to poke your head.

“It's morning”, she says.

You groan groggily. She imitates you and chuckles.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” she teases.

You decide not to answer, not to humor her further. Your eyes draft onto a silver tray on the table.

“Yes, that's your breakfast”, Jerry says and lifts the tray, putting it on the floor in front of you before sitting down. 

She picks up a piece of toast and holds it to your mouth. You take a bite, feeling more humiliated than ever. If only you knew that this was where you'd end up when you stepped on board in France.

“We will be in New York tomorrow”, Jerry says, holding the toast to your lips. “And we'll sneak both you and the painting past your contact.”

“It's just a painting”, you say cluelessly. “Why do you all want it so much?”

“I’m not particularly interested in the painting, but I know that Edmund and Hedwig are.”

“Why?”

“Art nerds.”

“Is it even selling for much?”

“It is — if you give it to the right consumer.”

“And you? What do you gain from this?”

“The thing isn’t about what I gain, it is what I lose … in case I let you roam freely. I don’t trust what you will do with the painting or it’s contents. Plus, you know who I am. If you wouldn’t have stuck your nosy head in everything, you wouldn’t have any problem with me.”

You suddenly realize something. 

“Jerry, I need to go to the bathroom”, you say. “I haven’t been to the bathroom since before you knocked me in the head.”

She sighs heavily. “Alright, come here.”

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry. 

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs until you can’t have children.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands bitterly. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding. 

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip. 

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by. You need to find an officer. You need to get higher.

Shit, the painting!

Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you scurry back into the cabin. Jerry is lying on the floor, unconscious, and you almost feel bad for knocking her, but you know that it had to be done. It was her or you. Quickly, you open the wooden box and fish out the painting, tucking it under your arm. You can't hide it in your cabin, not when they know about it. You have to dispose of it somewhere safe.

Every step you take is careful, planned and mortified. You clutch the painting tightly, as if it is life itself.

Moving through the long corridor, you're certain that someone will jump out behind a corner and knock you out, like yesterday. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, almost making you nauseous. You continue through the corridor, over to the hall with the staircases. Your suit has dried blood on it, you look (and feel) manic, will anyone take you seriously?

You freeze as you see a pair of eyes on you. Kry. His blue eyes seem to darken as he notices you, and the painting.

Quickly, you throw yourself into the elevator, and press a random button, wanting the doors to close before Doctor Kry reaches you. And they do, but when you look at the display beside you, you're going the opposite to where you need to go. New plan, you think, I have to sneak into tourist class — or third class, whatever gets you furthest away.

While standing in the elevator, you take a look at the painting to make sure that it hasn’t been damaged in this mess. You turn it around to inspect the canvas and notice something stuck in the corner of the wooden brackets. Carefully, you reach your fingers in and pull out a folded paper. Tucking the painting between your arm and your waist, you unfold the paper to find a list of names and locations … some of which you recognize. They’re all wanted criminals and you guess that the ones you don’t recognize are criminals as well. And the locations …

Your body goes cold and stiff. For a few moments, it feels like the entire world has stopped spinning. This is suddenly more serious than you could ever expect. Quickly, you put the paper in the pocket of your black pants.

You make your way through corridors you haven’t been in before, through doors you’re sure you’re not allowed through. You can’t help but look around at the new environment. Despite being one of Normandie’s lower classes, the attention to detail had been given to every centimeter of the ship. 

Focus!

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need to find someone that can help you. You consider giving it to a random passenger and ask them to give them to an officer, but in your entire training, you have been told not to pull innocent civilians into your job. They could get seriously hurt and it would be completely your own fault. 

You make your way through tourist class, making sure not to be seen by anyone. If Silas have more people than you thought, why wouldn’t they be in multiple classes? You’re not even sure why the painting have caused this big of a commotion, but there’s no way you can give up the painting now — not after everything you’ve gone through. Your head is still pounding from the glass bottle and your heart beating out of your chest by the sight of Doctor Kry. He knows that you’re roaming freely, and soon, they all will know … and they will look for you. Silas’s words still ring in your ear; “I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free” — well you surely don’t. But where can one run where the space is limited? It’s not like you can grab a lifeboat and sail your way to safety. The sea can be just as dangerous as the people you’re dealing with. 

You look around for someone in black uniform, desperately wanting to find someone to help you before you get a bullet through your head. Finally, you find a steward carrying a metal tray. Like lightning had struck through you, you barge forward and grab his arm. 

“Sir, you have to help me!” you hiss and pull him into an empty corridor. 

“What are you doing-?” he gasps. 

“Please listen and listen quickly”, you whisper in pure panic. The words fall out of your mouth incoherently, but you somehow manage to create the sentences you need for the steward to listen to you. “I have to get to the Captain! Like … now! It’s really, really urgent! Please, just trust me!”

You look around with wide eyes, heart now pounding in your throat. The steward nods in confusion and signals for you to come with him. You’re not sure why he decides to trust you, but you’re ever so grateful for it. He takes you through hidden passages used for staff so that none of the paying passengers will have to see them, up a couple of steep stairs and through some more doors. You hug the painting tightly against your roaring chest. Every corner makes your heart stop, terrified that someone will stand on the other side and knock you out the second you turn. 

The steward points at a door with a golden sign on it — ‘Officers’ quarters’. You pound on the door until you’re sure your knuckles bleed. A stern looking man in neat uniform opens, giving you a dark look. 

“Who are you?” he questions. “What do you want?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m an agent of the crown and this is the missing painting that has been all over the news … you have to keep it secure until we reach New York.”

The officer looks confused as he takes the painting in his hands and lets you into the quarters. 

“You’re bloody, what happened to you, sir?”

“There’s six passengers — Mr Achilleos and his man, His Majesty Edmund of Vesanus, Doctor Karl Kry, Miss Hedwig Carter and Miss Jerry Kim. They knocked me out and kept me in a cabin the entire night. They’re working together. They want this painting …”

… and probably my life by now.

“ … keep it safe”, you beg the officer and feel your voice quiver. “Please. If i can’t meet you at the harbor when we dock tomorrow, please give it to my contact — I will write down his name —  and tell him that he can find further information on board the ship.”

“I will tell the captain about the passengers, they will be taken care of and kept in arrest until we reach land where the police will deal with them”, the officer says.

“Thank you. A lot. Really.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

You feel for the note in your pocket and shake your head. “I have to do something first.”

The officer nodded. On shaky legs, you open the door and walk out into the corridor again. The steward is long gone and you’re alone in an unfamiliar corridor. You suddenly feel exhausted and decide to stay close to the door for a few moments to catch your breath, as if the officers’ quarter was a safe place. 

The note has to be hidden somewhere across the ship so that your contact can find it in case you don’t make it out alive. The note is more important than the painting and can, under no circumstances, go in the wrong hands. These names have to reach your contact. The group will look for the painting in belief that the note is still there, so the note has to be hidden separately so that they won’t find it. 

You make your way through the corridors slowly, making sure not to be caught with the list of names on you. In a weird, panic filled daze, you make your way through corridors, through lounges and dining halls where you hide the note. Underneath a chair, stuck to the corner. You deice to find your way back to the officers’ quarters and somehow find yourself out on deck. The wind is grabbing at you, pulling you left and right. You have a hard time keeping yourself on your feet. No one else is outside and you suspect it has to do with the fact that it’s early in the morning and the dark gray sky above you threat of rain.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

You turn to see the second in command with a gun in his hand.

“If you shoot me you'll ruin your life”, you say to him as confidentially as you can muster, but you can't help but worry if he's going to pull the trigger. 

“Do you think I care?” the second in command questions with a scoff. “I serve my boss until my last breath, I couldn't care less about other trivial matters. Where's the painting?”

“You don't care for the painting. Ask me instead where the note is.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“You know about the note, huh?” he says, eyes narrowing. “Seems like I'll have to get that out of you.”

“Why don't you have your boss do it? Or is he in arrest?”

“Don't worry about him, he always comes out on top. Come with me now or I will shoot you-”

“Shoot me then. The note is hidden and the painting is with trusted people.”

“Idiot. Do you think I was born yesterday? If I shoot you, I can't get the note. You may be stupid, but i dont think youre careless enough To sacrifice yourself for such a trivial thing. Get over here. Now.”

You're unarmed and alone, but if there's one thing you've been taught, it is to not give up without a fight. Your eyes catch onto an officer patrolling the upper deck and whistle. As the second in command takes his eyes off of you, you dive head first into the swimming pool. From his perspective, you don't think — wish — that he sees the man above him. The water wraps around you like a cold blanket and for a few seconds you can't even feel the wetness, only biting cold that almost makes you gasp under the surface. Somewhere, you think that you can hear a gunshot and see something whooshing past you in the water. And then another, and another. And then nothing.

You don't return to the surface until you're sure that the bullet rain has stopped. Your burning lungs gasp for air and you grip the ladder to your left. The second in command has been wrestled down on the deck by the same officer you saw. A smile tugs at your lips as the second in command glares at you from the floor, smashed against the planks.

“Sir, are you alright?” the officer asks, panting.

“I'm okay”, you reply, panting heavier.

An ice cold wind cuts right through you.

“Go inside”, the officer tells you.

“Y/N!” the second in command shouts as you've started to walk. “Don't forget that there are more. You barely know half of the people we have on board. Don't think for a second that you are safe!”

You pretend not to hear him and make your way inside for warmth. Unsure of where to go because of the second in command’s words, you return to the officers’ quarters.

That evening, you make your way down to the arrest. There are still two questions you haven’t gotten an answer to. You've gotten your gun back from a steward and have tucked it in your blazer. Nausea is eating you up from the inside as you walk into the room, watching the cell and its habitants.

“Look who it is”, you hear Jerry snicker. “Change your mind, Golden Boy? Do you want us out?”

You don't even bother to answer.

“The painting is in a safe place, and so are the note”, you say. “I suppose that Jerry, Silas and your second in command wanted the note and not the painting … and Edmund and Hedwig wanted the painting … but what did the Doctor want?”

“Me?” Kry asks coldly and walks over to the bars with his arms crossed. “What I wanted?”

“Yes”, you reply.

“You, of course. Imagine, my own little lab rat that I could do whatever I wanted with … no one would even bat an eye if both you and the painting disappeared.”

“You won't get any of it.” You let your eyes wander over the six people. “Not the painting, not the note, and absolutely not me. Jail is what you will get.”

You can hear Hedwig start to sob in the corner of the cell. She has sunken down along the wall with her head hanging between her knees, body shaking with sobs. Edmund sighs and walks over to her side, grabbing her shoulders and trying to pull her up on her feet.

“Don't cry”, he says quietly. “We won't go to jail, I will make sure of that. I won't allow it.”

“Did you just come down here to revel in our misery?” Silas asks you. 

You're not sure why you came down here. Did you want to make sure to yourself that they were behind bars? Or make you feel more powerful? Or even just get to see them?

“You do know that we will have our revenge, don’t you?” Edmund says and looks at you. “This is not the end.”

“I hope that you like being a dog, because that's what you're going to be, leash and all”, Silas scoffs.

“Tattooed”, Jerry adds on with a tilted smile. “Marked. Would Golden boy like that?”

You ignore her, and walk over to the cells bars, eyes glued onto Hedwig. 

“What were you doing in my cabin?” you ask. 

She freezes, looking cluelessly at you through her teary eyes.

“What?” she asks in shock. 

“Your perfume was all over my cabin”, you say coldly. “Why were you in my cabin?”

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N!” she cries and runs over to the bars, reaching out for you. 

You back away.

“I’m sorry, I-I … I looked through your things. I couldn’t help it, I just … I really, really wanted to hold you. I didn’t take anything, I promise! Please believe me, Y/N, I just wanted to- … it doesn’t matter. Forgive me.”

You don’t answer. Maybe Hedwig isn’t as sweet and innocent as you thought. 

DAY 4 — End of voyage

After your hell night last night you couldn't be more grateful for the somewhat pleasant night you had. Every single sound and movement woke you up, preparing you to see one of the six criminals or their acquaintances. And since a ship is in constant movement and makes sounds only God knows about, you barely slept for an hour straight. But at least you were in a warm bed.

You can't eat anything during breakfast. You stare at the sandwich and steaming coffee in front of you with a twisted stomach. The room is filled with passengers, like normal, but the bright room can’t be more dark and sinister. It is as if someone has drained it of color. Any of the smiling guests can be one that want to put a bullet through your skull, and is waiting for you to rise from your chair and follow you outside.

When a waiter comes over to your table, the coffee has stopped steaming. 

“Good morning, sir”, he says politely and places a silver tray with a silver cloche on your table. 

“What is this?” you ask in confusion. 

“A gentleman told me to give this to you. He has paid for it and everything.”

With that said, he smiles and walks away to continue his job. You glance down at the dome looking metal and feel your heart sink. Although you don’t want to, your heart reaches out to pull it away and reveal whatever is lying on the silver tray underneath. You’re not sure what you are expecting but a small, folded paper is certainly not it. As if on autopilot, you open the paper to see only a line. 

“We will be waiting for you when we dock, you won’t get past us. We are watching you.”

You were right. A knot appears in your throat. Your legs go numb. You will be killed. 

The air is hard to breathe in and you have to get out before you suffocate. You get out on the deck with the lifeboats hanging above your head and lean against the railing. In a few hours, Normandie would dock and you would be caught. You’re not sure that the steward who had helped you before would be able to save you, and you don’t want to put him in more danger … but you can’t step off the ship in New York’s harbor. The lifeboat above your head gives you an idea. A stupid, right out ridiculous idea … 

You look around you before your shaking hands release the lifeboat from its holds. You have been taught the most outrageous things to rescue yourself — including lowering an ocean liner’s lifeboat. The davits slowly bring the lifeboat downwards and you climb in, lying down to avoid being seen. Your body trembles with fear, unsure of what this will bring you … or where it will bring you. 

There's nothing on the ship that you should bring with you. There's no guarantee that the lifeboat will reach the harbor safely, but its a try. The painting will be more secure with the steward. 

You feel a ‘thump’ from when the lifeboat hits the waves underneath you. You see how Normandie towers above you, the black steel never seeming to end. A pair of heads stick out from the side and something hits the water beside you. Quickly, you cover your body with your arms and legs, curling up until all vital organs are covered. Hitting you with bullets on this distance are harder than one can think, but not impossible. The second you’re sure that they can’t reach you, you get up and start to paddle. If the men tell a steward about the missing lifeboat, they’ll steer their ship over here to get you. 

Your arms quickly grow sore. From now on, you’re entirely alone. There’s no one to save you in case anything happens and you will have to find your way to land by yourself. But it's better than being on board the ship.

The sea around you feels abnormally calm. There’s no distinctive sounds apart from the waves hitting the side of the lifeboat. 

You sit for a moment, taking the time to think. This case has been different from all the others you have done. More personal than you could ever have anticipated. You’re not sure why, but something with this case told you that things wouldn’t be over if they got their way. It was more than just materia, they want you too … to use as they please. Doctor Kry was right. Who would bat an eye if you disappeared along with the painting? They wouldn’t call it a kidnapping, it would be a disappearance that could be explained by the painting. And now they have none of it. Not the painting, not the list of criminals and not you. Pretty successful, you think. Maybe you succeeded this mission after all? 

You hiss as you touch your sensitive head. You’ll have to find a doctor in New York.

Hours go by. You row, you rest, row, rest, row, rest. Throw up. Damn if you have gotten a concussion, you think, but it’s probably just the sea air making you nauseous. 

How things had turned out. You thought that you would have had to deal with one or two criminals … not six. Ad how Silas had seen right through you … 

It’s over now. It will be over soon. Is it over?

You continue to row. 

in the distance, you see a fishing ship pulling up their net and you wave with your arms in hope for them to see you, which they inevitably do. Your exhausted, cold body is picked up and wrapped in an old blanket. 

“What were you doing out in a lifeboat like that?” one of the old sailors asks. “Which ship has sunk?”

“It’s the Normandie!” another one says as he reads the name on the wooden planks. “Has the Normandie sunk?!”

You tell them that it hasn’t suck — in fact, it’s steaming on better ad stronger than ever — but that an accident had happened, which resulted in you all alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. 

They give you a yellow rain coat that you use to hide in and join the sailors to New York’s harbor that evening. In the distance, you see the different ocean liner piers. Cunard-White Star Line, United States Lines, HAPAG, Italian Lines, Swedish-American Lines … and finally, Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. Normandie was towering above all the other liners and you stood there on the pier, looking at it. Four days ago, you had been standing in the harbor at Le Havre and been excited to step on board. But now, that you are looking at it from afar, in the dim lights, there’s something unsettling about the her. It looks like she’s apologizing to you for everything that she allowed to happen between her walls. You almost start to cry. 

You turn around and walk without giving the ship one more glance, hoping that it will be the last time you get to see the Normandie. 

You meet up with your contact in a small warehouse that following morning and tell him what you have hidden on the ship. He promises to retrieve it. He already has the painting and has secured it, had gotten it from the very steward you had left it with. 

“I have something else too”, he says and gives you an apologetic look. 

“What?” you ask and watch him closely as he takes out a paper from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You open the paper and feel your blood go icy cold. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the nickname you see written in black …

“Thought you could lock us in? Think twice, Golden boy, we’re already out. We’ll find you, be so sure of that. Don’t think that we will let you slip away. You will look good in a leash.

S.A”

You fold the paper just as quick and breathe out a shaky breath. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you will be protected”, your contact promises. “It will not be any problem, I assure you.”

With the six people’s contacts and power, you doubt that your protection will do much, but you nod. The painting is safe and the note is safe. They may have escaped jail and are looking for you, but you succeeded with your mission. And that is all that matters.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere female #female yandere #yandere rich girl #yandere oneshot #yandere ocs #yandere ocs x reader #male reader

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ first time with jean 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 1: cherry pop!!!

✯⁠ jean kirstein x reader

✯⁠ warnings: loss of virginity, brief oral, p in v

He's panicking, the thought of doing something wrong is basically eating him alive as he sits next to you in a cinema. You look so beautiful and innocent, but you know, what's going to happen tonight. You and Jean have been dating for about two months, but you never got past the 2nd base. You were scared, and he knew that. That's why Jean tried to make you comfortable by waiting. Hell, he would never turn to celibacy if it meant spending the rest of his life with you. But this morning, when you told him you're ready, Jean lost it. He hopes you didn't mean you're ready just for the date.

The ending rolls on the screen, lights turning all around the cinema

"It was great," you tell him, smiling from ear to ear. His heart stops when he looks at you. You're just so beautiful, and today you will be all his. You catch the look on his face, blushing deeply. Jean takes your hand, leading you out of the cinema. The whole ride home is anxious, but you try to fill the silence with thoughts on the movie. Jean basically shakes when he parks his car next to his house. He notices you are still wearing the same sweet smile ,and you're probably not panicking as much as he is.

"Do you wanna watch something or eat?" he asks with a shaking voice. You notice his nervousness, so you grab his arm, gently massaging it.

"We can go upstairs," you suggest, your feet seeming the most interesting thing for you at the moment.

"Okay." he breathes, kissing the top of your head. You giggle before leaning to kiss him on the lips. The kiss is sweet but leaves you both wanting more.

"I'm gonna wait upstairs," he tells you, flashing you a nervous smile. Most of the nervousness already disappears as he climbs the stairs. He knows he has nothing to be afraid of you, but he doesn't want to hurt you

He sits on the bed, looking around the room unsure what to do. He takes out the condoms and lube from the bedside table, scanning the two objects with his eyes. Jean's sure he has the right things, he doesn't wanna mistake the lube for soap even though it's basically impossible.

"You idiot, why would you have soap next to your bed?" he thinks to himself. It's true, he's panicking again for his own good.

The door opens, revealing you in a satin robe. Jean's jaw drops, you're not even naked, yet you make him lose his mind. You come back in a satin robe, making Jean's imagination wander. He wonders what might be under the robe, and it's soon revealed when you let it fall from your body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have anything matching," you say, looking everywhere but his face. He's stunned. You're standing in front of him in a red bralette accompanied by black panties. It doesn't match for sure, but he thinks it's the prettiest thing.

"You're so beautiful, love," he says, his voice almost turning into a whine. He's painfully hard in his pants, but he doesn't wanna think about it - the only thing on his mind is you. You come closer to sit on his lap, but you quickly jump off when he hisses in pain.

"It's okay, love. You make me so excited," he explains, bringing you on his lap again. This time Jean makes sure you sit on his thighs so that his cock isn't sandwiched right under your clothed pussy.

Jean starts leaving kisses down your body. He stops by your breaths, caressing them through the lacy bralette. He doesn't allow himself to take the garment off, he wants you to do it. He wants you to take it off.

"Can you please take it off?" you beg him but only receive him shaking his head.

"Can you?"

You flash him a soft smile before sitting on the bed. You open the bralette at your back, letting the straps fall down your shoulders. He watches every second with wide eyes, kneeling on the floor between your legs, his arms around your middle. His breath hitching when your eyes meet.

"Do you like me undressing myself?" you ask him just when the bra is about to fall down. Jean's speechless, he doesn't know what to say to you, he only knows that he needs to be inside of you right now. You finally thought the piece of clothing away, straightening your back. Your breathing is also deep, and you try not to close your eyes at the way Jean is looking at you.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on," he whispers, Jean can't even say it with his full voice because of how enchanted he is. He carefully cups your breasts with his large hands, he doesn't dare to squeeze yet. His fingers brush against your nipples lightly before he gets his mouth on your again. He licks a stripe right in between breasts, making you arch your back. He chuckles at how sensitive you are. His mouth travels downwards, sucking dark spots all around your tummy. You moan when he kisses the front of your panties. You've never felt like this before. Every touch feels like a fire on your skin, and you're sure you're dripping inside your panties.

"I'm gonna take this off," he informs you as he takes the garment off, leaving you naked on his bed. At the age of 19, he never thought he would see a naked woman on his bed, but here you are. He spreads your legs apart, his breath catching against your bare pussy.

"I wanted to go all the way, I thought we would leave this for another time," you confess. His gaze sunken, Jean doesn't want you thinking this way. He dreamt about making you feel good for so long, he doesn't care if he's the one not feeling anything, your touch is like a blessing for him.

"Can I still taste you?" he asks for permission, and he gets it. You gently pat his head, bringing him closer to your core. You feel shy because of the way he's looking at you. He watches your core as if it were the prettiest flower in the world. He uses his fingertips to spread your lips apart before his tongue touches your clit. You hiss at the stimulation, and Jean sees this as a positive response to continue. He swirls his tongue around your opening, focusing on your clit from time to time. You're sweet, addictive sweet in his opinion. His cock aches in his boxes, your moans are just too good. He reaches down to stroke himself through his boxers, impatience taking over as he undresses completely. Your eyes widen when you notice his size. Jean catches your look, and he smirks.

"I'll make it fit," he says, using your juices to lubricate his cock. he presses the tip against your pussy, slowly pushing in. You shut your eyes in pain, he's big, and it hurts.

"Shhh, it's okay." Jean coos, kissing your cheek. His other hand brushes your hair out of your face.

"Let's go a bit deeper." he grabs your hands, thrusting his cock deeper. He stills when about half of his cock is inside of you to ask you how you're doing. When he sees that you're taking him well, he thrusts the rest of his cock inside.

"I'm all in, you're such a good girl." he praises you, kissing all over your face. He pulls out until he's halfway inside of you before thrusting in again. His speed is slow ,and his thrusts are shallow, but it's enough for both of you. He presses his weight on top of you, and you wrap your arms around him. You've never been this close to each other, and it's exactly what you needed.

"I love you so much," he confesses, burying his face into the crook of your neck. It's too much for him, and he knows that if you keep squeezing him like that, he won't be able to last long.

"I love you too," you respond, and that's what tips him over the edge, he cums inside you in thick ropes. Jean falls on top of your body, embarrassed by how fast he came. You take his head into your hands, caressing his cheeks and telling him it's okay.

"Let's make you cum." he says, still embarrassed. He reaches down to touch your clit, rubbing it in fast circles. It takes him a few swipes before you're cumming.

The two of you lay next to each other, breathing heavily from what just happened.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes and snorts.

"Don't," you say, smiling at him. he returns the smile, cuddling your body closer to his.

"But I am big, right?" he smirks, making you slap his arm.

"And you cum too quickly."

"That's because I love you, and I'm so attracted to you."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @ffakegucci @merachannie @th3girln3xtdoor @iheartpieck @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @7haze @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx

i just can't get these tags to work, im sorry

@dngerwayz @nwptune @universllypiratecolor @d1lf-luvr @nobody289x @gia999 @banchangsbbbg

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you

[yourfatherlucifer]

Extraterrestrial (JYH)

Alien!Yunho x afab!reader

Summary: Your ship is on the brink of being forever lost in the galaxy, but when a monster invades your ship to top it all off, his plans for you are a cause for concern.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, egg preg, alienxhuman sex, rough and mean Yunho, dead husband San, monster cock, tall ass Yunho

AU: Alien/Space

Genre: Smut

WC: 2.2k

Tags: For @potatomountain because I know you’ve been struggling lately, so I hope you can enjoy this with all your might. You deserve this. I love you, friend. This is longest I’ve written in so long..lol

Nets: @newworldnet

The rapid beeping of the ship was so overwhelming, the red lights were flashing in warning. The shaking was so powerful. If only you didn’t run into that asteroid belt earlier from running from a pirate space ship. With your crew still in cryogenic states, you could only handle this on your own.

You were the captain after all, the expert in the technology. Of course, you could’ve awoken your second in command but you didn’t want to bother them. The process was a painstaking one anyway.

The rattling was beginning to get annoying as you tried to do everything you could, “Dammit, come on!” You smacked the control panel, clearly getting frustrated.

There wasn’t another planet for several light years and that was so agitating. There was nowhere to stop to repair your ship. Even the hull was damaged, you were sure something fell off from the collision.

You were scared to death that your ship would explode and you’d never make it home. This expedition was supposed to save you from your dying planet to find a new one.

You reached down to kiss the photo necklace wrapped around your neck. It was of your dead husband, San. He was an astronaut explorer as well. But his ship was lost and he never made it back home. You could only assume he was dead. It’s been a year after all. So you took this mission upon yourself, in hopes of finding him or a new planet for your human population to live on. You wanted to make your husband proud.

“I’m so sorry, Sannie, I’ve failed us both and our planet.” A tear fell down your cheeks as your fist collided against the console in frustration.

A flash passed by your ship but you didn’t even notice, too busy focusing on your impending death.

The beep stopped abruptly which made you look around confused, “The hell..?”

A couple of chittering sounds caught your attention and you spun around, only to be met with an eight foot tall hunched over alien. He..if it was a he, was beautiful. With his tanned skin and green scales, he looked almost human. If it wasn’t for the scales and tentacles coming out of his back and his ridiculously long legs, you would’ve thought it was someone from your crew.

So, how’d it get in?

“What..what do you want?” You backed up into the console, clearly confused and scared.

Was he here to eat you? To steal from you? Just what-

His face softened up with a smile, “I’m not going to eat you, so you can stop thinking about it. I’m not going to steal from you either.”

“Then what is it you want? I don’t have anything else to offer.” You crossed your arms over your chest, still not sure of his intentions.

“Well, I have a proposition for you, human.” His long legs carried him over to you, from there you could see his beautiful green eyes and somehow handsome face.

You’d never seen an alien up close, of course, back on earth, there was always talk of extraterrestrials but never any appearing despite the very popular pop culture of alien invasions. Even with the planet dying, there was none.

“Well, I’ll fix your ship for you. But.”

“But?”

“Let me impregnate you with my eggs. It’s my species mating season and unfortunately for me. I’m away from my planet and you’re the only near species I can copulate with. I have to get these eggs out or it’s painful for me. I’m not about to waste them either.” His eyes scanned your body, clear with interest.

“If I agree, you will one hundred percent fix my ship?” You had to admit, he was far too attractive to deny his offer.

“Yes, and I don’t break my promises. I’m desperate and you’re definitely the perfect specimen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and slipped off your shirt, “Alright, I don’t see why not then.”

He grinned in relief, watching as your breasts bounced in their final confines, “Perfect.”

He walked even closer, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you with ease to set you on the ships console, “I will warn you, I’m nothing like the human men you can have intercourse with. I’m far bigger. I might just break you.”

You licked your lips in excitement, “I don’t mind, the bigger the better.” You joked, trying to ease the tension.

“You say that, until I’ve fucked you full with my children.” He grabbed the strings of his loin cloth and it fell to the floor.

Your eyes widened at the sheer size of his length, he wasn’t lying. This was the biggest cock you’ve seen, probably even the prettiest. It couldn’t even compare to your deceased husbands cock. Even though he was big for your species. But this alien, was massive.

He looked like measured to at least 10 inches, if not more. The girth was crazy as well. Green scales lined the thick and spined base. Just like some spots on his body.

“Um..wow…” you were in complete shock, unable to tear your eyes away, until you felt something thick and slimy pull your head back up to face him. It was one of his tentacles.

“My name is Yunho. That is what you will scream as I breed you, got it?” His voice became stern and it was so attractive, you could feel yourself becoming a waterfall below.

Yunho growled as his nose turned up to sniff the air, “I can smell you human, your cunt is excreting such a sweet scent. I must ravage you.”

You whimpered with his words, “Please, tear me apart. I want to feel you.”

“Be patient, human. You’ll get it.” His fingers wrapped around the hem of your pants and yanked them down, along with your soaked underwear. He threw them to the captain's chair behind him and groaned in the new exposure of your scent.

Yunho’s face dove to the source, his tongue licking up a stripe between your folds. Gathering your slick on his wet appendage. He moaned in the flavor, “Oh, human. You have no idea how I’m going to ruin you. You will search the galaxy for me after I’m done with you.” His teeth sunk into the plush of your inner thighs, “You will continue to search for the same feeling I’m going to give you. And only will I return to collect my kin.”

You could only whine in response, tugging onto his black hair.

“You are nothing but a breedable toy for me. Nothing more, nothing less, do you understand that?”

“Yes, yes!”

His tongue encircled your weeping hole and prodded at your walls, he was enjoying this far too much. Your human sounds were delightful to his ears.

“Yunho!” You cried out when he moved away from your cunt to your thigh once again, planting his teeth into the skin. You could only assume this was his way of marking his mate.

“What are you?” You whined as he pulled away.

“I will never tell you my species name. I will not let you find me until I need to find you. This is a one in a change opportunity, hush before I change my mind.” Yunho’s eyes flashed over, warning you with ill intent, “I will not hesitate to leave you and your ship stranded.” He was mean but you loved it.

He eventually lost interest in eating your cunt out and moved his tentacle to replace his tongue instead. It was slightly thinner than his massive cock, so it must be used to prep you.

As it slowly slid inside, Yunho had stood up, pulling your hips closer to his to the point his cock rested against your abdomen. It was so big that it reached the valley of your breasts. Just how was he going to fit without rearranging your organs?

He watched as his tentacle slowly sank in, he could barely feel how you pulled him in. However he could feel just how tight you were. That was going to be a problem. So maybe two tentacles would have to stretch you out for him.

He groaned in thought, he didn’t expect having to do so much work for a human cunt to fit him and his eggs.

“Come on, stop being so tight, human.” Yunho’s grip only tightened as his tentacle tried to slither in further.

Once that one was settled in, another snaked around from his back all the way to your occupied cunt. It pushed its way in, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent scream.

“That’s more like it.” Yunho’s large hand reached to cup your breast while he felt your cunt loosen around him, “Soon I’ll be able to breed you.”

“I don’t care, just fuck me, Yunho, please!”

Yunho shrugged, “If you insist.” His two tentacles began pumping in and out, the sloshing sounds of your cunts arousal and the excrement excreting from his tentacles didn’t help.

He held you tight to his chest because you could barely sit up straight with the way he was fucking into you. It was even his cock yet and he had you weak.

You weren’t used to being so packed. Just the two tentacles combined were bigger than your husband's cock when he used to make love to you.

“Stop thinking of that human man. I’m the one fucking you. Get him out of your head.” He growled in warning.

“I can’t just erase my husband’s memory!”

Since the image wasn’t disappearing from your head, Yunho bit between your shoulder and neck, “I won’t tell you again.”

“Fine!” You tried to focus on the way his tentacles fucked in unison only for them to pull out and get replaced by his monster size cock instead.

This time a scream fell out of your throat, he was so big. Far too big. You could feel him ripping you apart from the inside. Even the bulge in your stomach from him was painful, but felt too good at the same time.

His hips slammed against yours with each thrust. The console creaked in protest.

Yunho’s grip was so tight that it was nearly painful but you didn’t care, not when your senses were dulling from the way his cock buried itself deep within your wet cavern.

“Yunho!” You cried out. He was being very rough with you. He manhandled you all the way to captains chair, planting himself in the seat.

He made your legs straddle him. You didn’t know how you were going to ride him, not with how weak you felt, “Come on, human, you can do it.”

You whimpered as you sunk yourself back down, legs shaking in protest.

Yunho grinned as he watched you struggle to take him, “Don’t be pathetic, I know you can do it.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you repeatedly fucked yourself on him, “It hurts so good.”

His free hand squeezed the bulge each time it appeared on your stomach. He was making it worse but you assume he did this to get it over with. You were sure it wasn’t pleasant for him to fuck a human much smaller than his alien form.

As you reached your nth orgasm, tears were flowing down your cheeks, how hadn’t he cum yet? Why weren’t you filled yet?

“You’ll get it soon, be patient, human. You’re so eager to carry my children.” This had him smirking. He wanted to ruin you.

His hips thrusted up to match your pace and help you along, “Doing so well, little human.” His reached back to grip your hair and yank it backwards, exposing more neck to him.

Yunho marked your neck with more bites and bruises, marking his territory for any other aliens passing by or anyone that invades this ship while he’s gone, awaiting for his children’s birth.

Once his thrusted started slowing down, that’s when you knew he was near. His cock began enlarging and your eyes widened in shock, “Oh fuck, Yunho!”

He stopped your movements and waited as his eggs flowed out his cock and into your cunt, all the way to your womb, “That’s right..take it all. Like the good human mother you will be.” His hand rubbed your stomach as it began swelling with several of his eggs.

He was proud. Very proud and felt relieved. Yunho we finally free of his pain and relieved for the future of his bloodline.

“My perfect breedable toy.” Once his cock returned to normal size, he slowly pulled out, watching as you became breathless. Nearly doubling over.

“So full..” you whined, holding your stomach with such care.

“Good.” He stood up and rested you where he once sat, “I’m going to leave now. I’ll repair your ship on my way out. I’ll return in a few earth months. Your pregnancy won’t be as long as the normal human one.”

You looked ethereal but he wasn’t going to stick around, not when his use for you was over.

“Yunho..” Your breasts were in pain, already trying to accommodate the eggs inside of you.

“Don’t do anything to my eggs while I’m gone, or I’ll destroy everything.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed, making his way to the exit.

“I won’t..”

“Good. Farewell human, await my return.”

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #x reader #yunho x reader #Yunho smut

[zeltqz]

hohihiwhshwh i have a request where y/n is the girlfriend of a rival gang leader but doesn’t treat her right but then ran is interested in her that way with rindou and sanzu banter about

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈ temptations | haitani ran ◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

pairing. tokyo manji!ran x fem!reader

word count. 8.1k

contents. gold digger!reader, toxic relationship (not with ran), misogynistic views, infidelity, reader's boyfriend is a gambling addict, possessive boyfriend. NSFW contents. dirty thoughts, fantasising, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, safe sex, oral (both)

The room was polluted with cigarette smoke, flashy lights and far too much testosterone for you to handle without feeling uncomfortable. It was hard to keep your poker face as you sipped on your glass of water, sitting lonely, by yourself on a plush l-shaped couch in the corner of the room.

There was boredom written all over your face as you watched your boyfriend lose at snooker over and over and over again. With each loss of the game came a loss of money. Honestly you’ve lost count with his losses, rolling your eyes every time he curses loudly and makes a scene of throwing the stick at someone’s head for laughing at how much money he’s lost tonight.

He’s surrounded by his friends, none of which you cared enough to remember their names. All you know is they’re gambling obsessed horny fucks that don’t respect your boundaries when your boyfriend isn’t around.

Being the only girl in the room is awkward enough and it feels like a slap in the face when you spot other women in the room, a small glimmer of hope flashing your face as you desperately try to make eye contact with then—hoping they can use that telepathic sense all women seem to have when it comes to each other—only for them to glance at you briefly, then ignore you and walk away. 

At this point you’re so lonely you’ll handle even talking to men but they also make a conscious effort not to talk to you. It’s hard making friends when you have such a possessive boyfriend like Kozo; he’s practically barking at anyone that even bothers to approach you, not liking other men close to his property . 

It’s like Kozo’s playing a constant game, getting you all dolled up and pretty, dangling you in front of other men at the club to grab their attentions, then the poor men who’ve fallen for the trap would get dragged outside by their collars and beat into a pulp on the streets for touching what’s his. 

It was a daily routine for you. Kozo would come to the club every Friday, bring you along for pointers and soaks in the attention you receive from his friends as they brag about how much of an eye candy you were. You knew you were nothing but a prize in his eyes, nothing but an accessory Kozo wears to make himself feel better. They gamble, play games, smoke, do drugs in the clubs and you sit on the nice couch for hours and watch Kozo win money.

Why are you with him, your friends wonder? Probably for the money. He was…nice to you on occasion, whenever he was in a good mood and he’d fuck you like he meant it, even counting in your pleasure. But those times were rare; the main reason you stay is because he takes you on a shopping spree with the money he wins from gambling, buying you nice jewellery, clothes, pays for your nails. 

You liked getting dolled up, he liked seeing you dolled up. The relationship was nothing but transactional. You came to that realisation that you had no feelings for him the day you came back from the bathroom and saw him with another girl, his arm around her waist as she hyped him up at the card table to win. You examined it for a moment, your presence practically invisible to all the men, and just wondered why you weren’t feeling angry that he’s practically got his hands on another woman. You watched deep in thought for what felt like five minutes and the only thing on your mind was if you’re still going on that shopping spree on Saturday. 

For the record, you did.

And it was fun. 

The ball gets hit into one of the holes and Kozo yells at the top of his lungs, loud enough to startle you; you watch the opposing team manhandle each other in a way that’s just so masculine , aggressive back and shoulder slaps that look like they sting. 

Your expensive presence caught the eye of a creep at the bar. Glancing in his direction, he looked twice your age, grey hairs marking his hair and beard and wearing a very creepy smile on his face, cigarette bobbing from his lips as he eyed you down with what he probably thinks is an attractive face. You know his type. Being at these bars all the time, you had time to analyse everyone and what types of men come to these bars.

There’s the occasional addicts: drug, gambling or alcohol addicts that come here to fuel their needs, then there’s the creeps like him, looking old enough to be your father but crave young, attractive girls in their early 20’s to spend all their money on. Then there’s the rich men that come through once every month or so. 

You’ve caught a glimpse of them a few times and there’s this one man that caught your eye many times, but he’s never looking in your direction. It hurts your ego a little bit, but you remember you’re in a relationship with a loyal (?), loving (??), giving—very much giving($)—boyfriend. 

Kozo looks in your direction for what seems like the first time in two hours and sees your eyes are staring at the creep. His face scrunches up when he glances over to the guy at the bar. 

“Hold my stick,” he grits out, slamming it firmly into his friends chest and rolls up his sleeves as he walks up to the bar. “Oi.” He slams his hand down on the bar top loud enough for everyone to stop doing what they’re doing and look over at the scene. “You got a staring problem?”

“What?” The guy puts his cigarette down. “No—no. I wasn’t looking at you—”

“Nah. Not at me. My girl .”

“Your…” The man tries to get another look at you before Kozo’s hand is on his chin, gripping it hard and redirects his gaze back to him.

“You’re really gonna look at her again while I’m here? Bold aren’t you.” Kozo cackles, slaps him on the back hard, ignores his yelp and leans in towards his ear, voice dropping dangerously low and whispers, “Meet me outside.”

From your seat across the room you could tell where this was heading and quickly stood up. Kozo looked positively murderous right now and you didn’t feel like running from the police tonight. Being the good samaritan you were, you stood up and walked over to Kozo, holding his arm tight.

He snaps his head back to look at you. “What?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Really?” He lets go of the man’s shirt and turns all 5’10”of him around to face you. “I haven’t won enough money yet baby. Don’t you want that new dress you were telling me about?”

“I do…but…” You bit your lip, stepping closer to him. “I wanna go home.”

“Whatever, you’ll live,” he grumbles, waving your concern away and nods back towards the couch. “Go sit down. I’ll be done soon.”

You attempt to plead at him with your eyes once more since your words clearly weren’t getting to him but his gaze was ice cold, unwavering, and you could see how serious he was about this. 

This wasn’t a battle you could win, you knew that and you accepted defeat, shoulders slumping as you walked back over to the couch. Fifteen more minutes pass and they’re doing more talking than gambling at this point. 

Kozo managed to hit the 8-ball too early and out of anger tossed his stick half way across the room, the impact snapping it in half as it hit the wall. Now they were waiting for another stick. 

Guess no shopping spree this weekend, you thought. Kozo was losing badly. 

“You might as well resign out now, Kozo. Better to leave broke but with your ego in tact.”

“I’m not fucking broke,” Kozo snaps, his bubbling anger slowly starting to spill out. 

You can tell he’s one snarky comment away from losing it and you need to get him out of here before he hurts someone. The last time he was in a bad mood he took it out on a random man waiting in line at the club and you could do nothing but watch from the sidelines as he beat the man half to death.

Kozo’s anger is something that scares you, and also another factor that stops you from leaving him. He’d never lay his hands on you though, he doesn’t want anyone touching his property, even including himself. You’re too precious to be bruised. But that didn’t mean you were safe if you ever broke up with him, since you won’t be his property by then. 

Too deep in your thoughts, you fail to notice him walking over to the couch.

“Get the fuck up,” Kozo frowns down at you. When you don’t move fast enough for his liking, he snaps. “I said get the fuck up !” He forcefully lifts you from the couch, squeezing your forearm in a tight grip that has you wincing, trying to pull him off. 

“Kozo you’re hurting me—”

“Didn’t you wanna fuckin’ go? Let’s go .”

“I’m coming, okay! Just let go,” you whine, grabbing his hand, trying to pry it off your skin. 

Once he let go, you clear your throat and move closer to him. In an attempt to calm him down, you run your hands up and down his chest, cuddling up to him. 

“Are you okay?”

The soft whisper of your voice did wonders to calm him, and he exhales heavily. 

“Yeah.” He kisses your forehead. “Sorry for snapping at you baby. I’m just…pissed off.”

You hum; your hands moving around his back and rubbing there. “It’s okay to get pissed. Just don’t get too upset. Control your temper, remember?”

He nods. “Yeah. I know.” 

You pull away and wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your dress. “Alright, let’s go.” He pulls you towards the door.

“Oi, Kozo.” Kozo pauses by the door, looking over his shoulder.

“If you play one more round you can win your money back.”

Kozo wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Pass. My girl’s tired anyway. Gotta take her home.” He pulls you closer to his side and kisses the side of your face. Kozo was about to begin walking again before the guy at the table spoke up.

“That so? I’ll double it then.” 

The mention of double the money had Kozo freezing on the spot. His body weight along was enough to make you recoil back to his side when you continued walking. 

“Double, huh?” Kozo smirks and you panicked at the interest dripping from his voice.

“No no no, Kozo baby he’s bluffing. I wanna go home,” you said, trying to get his attention back on you and away from the world of gambling and addiction.

Kozo let go of your hand and your heart sank to the floor. He walked over to the table and you wandered back over to the couch, standard procedure as usual. Right now, you could only hope he wins because if he loses for the second time and embarasses himself, it’ll be ten times harder to get him to cool down.

Ten minutes in, the couch dipped and look to your right at the gentleman that sat down next to you. “You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls out in a low, smooth voice.

Your eyes meet his own and you spotted a hint of teasing in them. The shade wasn’t anything you’d seen before, and you couldn’t take your eyes off his. 

The silence stretches out far too long to be considered normal and then you remember he was looking at you because he asked you a question. 

“Oh. Yeah. I am.” You gave a noncommittal shrug to your already non-committal answer and sunk deeper into the couch. “I’m great.”

Judging by the bland tone of your voice, he had a feeling you were lying. His head tilts to the side to get a better look at your side profile as you kept staring straight ahead, glaring daggers at Kozo. 

He readjusts himself in his seat, turning to face you. “Whatsa matter?”

You turn to look at him, your eyebrows pinched together in annoyance. “Do I know you?”

He grins, boyish and charming, and for a moment you regret your tone. “I’m Ran. You?”

Before you could say your name, a shadow falls over your face as Kozo stands over you, his eyes hard and seething as he glares at Ran. 

“That’s my girl.”

It takes Ran a few seconds before he’s looking away from you and onto Kozo, curling his eyebrow at Kozo. “That’s nice. What’s that gotta do with me though?”

“Stop talking to her?”

Ran glances at you, looking embarrassedly down at your lap. He decides to stand up, trying not to smile as Kozo’s shoulders slump downwards, watching in real time as his ego deflates to negative levels as Kozo realises the height difference.

“She can answer for herself, can’t she?” Ran asks, cocking his head at Kozo.

This was probably the first time you saw someone stand up to Kozo and you couldn’t help but feel intrigued, readjusting in your seat to get a better angle of these two men fight over you. 

Kozo’s eyes narrow slightly, too irritated to come up with a response.

Ran turns to look at you; your breath catches in your throat at the eye contact. 

“What’s your name?” he asks again. Your eyes slide over to Kozo but Ran tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I’m asking you sweet thing, not him.”

The pet name had Kozo’s nose flaring, temper rising to impossibly hot and you could tell he was two seconds away from murder. Regardless of that, you smile, shift your entire body to face Ran and tell him your name.

Ran’s smile turns wolfish before he sits down heavily beside you, even closer than before, his knees practically touching yours.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he looks smugly over at Kozo, “was it?”

Kozo’s fists tighten as he watches Ran raise his arm to rest along the back of the couch, his hand barely brushing your shoulder. He sighs, closes his eyes to control his temper and lowers his voice to sound softer, more approachable and says, “What do you want Ran?”

Ran shrugs. “Just being friendly and a good host. She seems pretty lonely by herself here.”

Kozo’s eyes narrow. “Go be friendly somewhere else.”

“You forgetting who owns this club Kozo?” Ran sings Kozo’s name as he asks the question; you notice Kozo’s eyebrow twitch at Ran’s tone. 

“Are you threatening me Haitani?”

“Threats? Nah. Never that. ‘M better than that. My dad on the other hand…he’s not as kind as me when it comes to threats or kicking people out of his club.”

Kozo glares at Ran’s annoyingly smug face for a few more seconds before realising he cannot stand the sight of it anymore. 

“Want me gone so badly? Fine then.” Just like before, he yanks you upright by your arm, making you wince loudly. “We’re heading home now.”

Ran grabs Kozo’s hand effortlessly and all but rips it off your arm, then tugs you back down to the couch next to him. 

“I don’t appreciate you grabbing her like that.” His eyes were serious whilst his tone was playful. From this angle you couldn’t see Ran’s face clearly, only getting a good view of his side profile as he looks up at Kozo, but considering the way Kozo stiffens slightly as he stares at Ran’s face you could tell he was intimidated.

“It was a joke Haitani…jeez get a sense of humour. I don’t normally grab her like that. Chill.” Ran didn’t look impressed and Kozo swallows, nervously. “Okay…I won’t grab her like that again.” Kozo turns towards you, his voice softening a bit. “Come on baby. I’ll take you home now.”

This time, he grabs your hand as soft as he can and lifts you from the couch, making a show of readjusting your dress from when it rid up your thighs and heads towards the exit. You look back at Ran once last time, mouthing “thank you” with a small wiggle of your fingers, waving goodbye at him before disappearing from the room.

Ran exhales and leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes when his brother sits down next to him.

“There a reason you’re picking a fight with Kozo today or what?” Rindou asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I need a reason? What if I was just bored?” Ran peeks an eye open at his brother who was looking at him unimpressed. 

“What was the reason,” Rindou repeats, his tone indicating a direct answer asap. Ran doesn’t respond instantly and Rindou fiddles with his cup, moving it around to watch the liquid splash around. “It has nothing to do with that girl right?”

Ran stays quiet and Rindou scoffs. “Jesus christ.”

Ran laughs and shrugs. “What’s the problem? Can I not talk to girls anymore?”

“Single girls sure. You know how weird Kozo gets about that girl. The amount of dudes he’s beat up for even staring at her is wild,” Rindou says, reminding his brother of Kozo’s possessiveness as a warning, but Ran only takes it as a challenge.

“Yeah whatever.”

Rindou knows Ran isn’t fully listening, only digesting whatever he wants to hear to satisfy himself. “If you piss Kozo off, Dad’ll be angry. He comes here a lot and it’ll be a loss of money if he stops coming. Just…don’t do anything stupid.”

With that, Rindou stands up and left when Sanzu calls him over to play a round. Ran watches the two for a second, then begins thinking of his next move.

Meanwhile, Kozo slips into the front seat of his car after putting in more gas and turns to look at you, staring out the window staring into the night sky. He places his hand on your thigh to grab your attention. 

“Baby,” he says softly, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from Haitani, okay? He’s…weird…alright?” For the first time in forever, Kozo doesn’t feel any anger inside him and you feel like you’re looking at a totally different person, one that actually looks worried for your safety which is funny considering all the risky situations he’s put you in.

“Weird how?” 

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just promise me you’ll stay away from him.” He reaches out and grabs your hand. You meet his eye and see him staring intensely at you, awaiting your response.

“...okay, I will.”

The next time Kozo attends the club, he takes you with him as usual, standard procedure. It’s been a month since you’ve last been here, sitting on the same couch but you instantly slip back into routine, sipping on your water because Kozo refuses to let you drink without him next to you. 

Instead of snooker, this time Kozo decides to waste his money on another game called roulette, watching intently while trying to figure out the odds, never touching the table itself except to place his bets. There’s a man at the other end who spins the wheel, successfully taking Kozo's attention away from you completely. Sometimes you honestly wonder if he remembers you're still here with how hard he ignores your existence.

Still though, it gives Ran plenty of opportunities to stare at you, wondering what Kozo would say if he saw him doing so. Rindou's words ring in his mind momentarily and he's about to stop himself from approaching you when you shift on the couch a little, the movement exposing your leg again and for some reason, this only fuels Ran’s desire to look at you.

He can't explain why exactly; it just makes him want to reach out and grab your legs, pull them closer to his body and let his lips run up the length of your legs until they reached the perfect spot.

He glances over at Kozo across the room once more; he's not even paying attention to you. Perfect.

With that, Ran strolls over towards your couch from behind. Your back is against the couch and he bends down, resting his arms along the back of the couch and speaks into your ear, "Sitting by yourself again?"

You jump at the sound of his voice right by your ear and let out a soft gasp, flushing hot before smiling. “Don't scare me like that!" you clutch a hand over your heart, letting out a giggle.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice is deep and sexy, accentuated by the smirk he wears on his face as his lips brush the shell of your ear again. The hand that had clutched at your heart slowly falls to rest on your knee and you shiver at the contact.

"It's okay," you say in a quiet voice, trying to ignore the way your chest feels when he brushes against you. "I was actually starting to get bored." You smile and turn your head slightly to meet his eyes.

"Missed me did you?" He rests his chin on his arms folded on the couch, grinning widely.

"A bit," you admit, trying to look away but your eyes are magnetised to his face. A smile creeps across his lips and you know he's about to say something cocky.

"Then why'd you wait a month to come back here? I figured you'd want to visit me as soon as possible."

His words carry a certain arrogance about them, his smile revealing his intentions. If you didn't already know better, you'd think he wanted to get you into bed tonight. You squeeze your legs together at the thought, then your blood runs cold at the fact that Kozo hasn't even looked your way once during the entire conversation.

If you weren't so turned on by Ran's presence right now, Kozo's lack of care towards you would have bothered you.

"Who says I didn't want to visit?" you tease back, turning to face him fully, your leg shifting further on the couch.

"Then why didn't you?" With every word, he's shifting closer to you. Your thighs press together involuntarily when his eyes drop to your lips briefly.

"I kinda have a guard dog boyfriend," you say with a coy smile, looking at him with an almost teasing gaze, attempting to hide your obvious desire for him.

Ran looks past your body over at said guard dog boyfriend, Kozo's attention still focused entirely on the roulette game. He is rubbing his chin thoughtfully, eyes focused on nothing but the game. Ran has no idea how this guy could fumble so badly; he has a fine girl sitting on a couch and he’s busy winning money.

Your eyes never left his face when Ran looks away from Kozo back at you and you shoot him an awkward smile. “By the way I didn’t have the chance to tell you this last time but thank you.”

“For what?” Ran asks, backing away from your face to create a little distance and stands up straight, resting his hands along the back of the couch.

You look up at him, the height difference making your neck ache. “For defending me in front of him. It felt…nice. Thank you.”

Ran hides his surprise well and nods, unsure of what to say in the face of someone so sincere for doing the barest of minimums. He never considers himself a good boyfriend, having only had two girlfriends his entire life that never lasted longer than four months. He realised dating wasn’t for him but he knows for a fact he’s a better boyfriend than the shitty one on your arm. Honestly you deserved better, not only treatment wise but looks wise too.

Kozo isn’t ugly by any means but he’s average. Just average. In Ran’s eyes at least. Looking at you though, all dolled up tonight, dressed in what looks like an expensive dress, showing just the right amount of skin to drive him crazy. How Kozo’s attention is on a game rather than you makes no sense to Ran whatsoever. Even Ran’s hands are tingling to just touch the sides of your waist and thighs; they look so welcoming and have just enough space for him to slot his entire hand onto your thigh.

“Are you done staring?” you say, snapping Ran out from his stupor. His eyes were dreading to look away from your body to your face but he met your eyes, staring at him with those eyes of yours all shiny under the lights.

“You giving me permission to stare more?” Ran asks, smirking.

You try to hide your smile by looking down at your lap. After composing yourself, you look back up at him. “Flirting with me when my boyfriend is right over there?”

“Who said I’m flirting with you?” He rounds the couch and sits down heavily next to him, his colonge wafting in your direction. He smells so expensive you struggle to focus on anything but him.

He looks lazily at you with half-lidded eyes, and you felt your body tempertaure rising by the second, wondering if someone turned off the AC in the room. His eyes not-so-subtly drop downwards, over the swell of your breasts.

“If you’re not flirting with me then keep your eyes up.” You grin when he grins, both of you equally not taking the situation seriously.

He takes a sip of his drink before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take a sip and the both of you kept passing the drink as you spoke to each other. He tells you about himself, you told him about yourself and how you dropped out of university because you couldn’t afford it anymore, and how Kozo basically took you off the streets to live with him in his house.

The more you drink, the more you loosen up and the alcohol basically forcing the words out of your mouth and you end up spilling how unhappy you were with Kozo, how money is the only thing keeping you around and the fact something deep inside you is just waiting for him to go bankrupt so you had an excuse to leave.

When it was Ran’s turn to speak, you found your self zoning out, your eyes wandering along his face, tracing the sharp cut of his jaw. Your mouth was tingling as you wondered if his skin felt as soft as it looks. His voice is what got you the most, it was so deep and seductive you couldn’t help but ask him pointless questions just to hear him laugh and respond. By this point your brain totally forgot about Kozo, in fact, it had you hoping some other girl caught his attention like last time just so you had an excuse to sneak away with Ran for even a minute.

Fuck, at this rate you’d be happy with even ten seconds of his time. As the alcohol raged through your body, you found your mind getting dirtier, imagining his voice in your ear whispering all kinds of dirty things he wants to do to you. He looks like he’d be good at dirty talk, knowing exactly what to say to turn you to mush.

You slide your eyes down to his hands resting on his lap and wonder just how big they’ll look on certain parts of your body. And just like that, you can feel them on your ass, squeezing and rolling the flesh between his fingers—those long, slender fingers—that look like they’ll fit wonderfully inside your pussy.

The thoughts were coming faster and getting dirtier and you shook your head to try shake the thoughts out but it wasn’t working. 

Your body knew what it wanted and it was him . It never reacted this way for Kozo and for once you’ve never wanted to just rip your clothes off for a man right here and now. You blink and nod every time Ran says something, hoping and prating he didn’t see the way you completely zoned out and allowed lust to fully take over. 

“Well?” he says after a few seconds of silence.

You blink again, confused. “Sorry, what?”

He chuckles (dear lord his voice) and speaks again. “I asked you a question.”

“A question…? Oh, sorry. I—”

“Was too busy thinking of me,” he finishes for you, that smirk back on his face as you gape at him, speechless. 

“I wasn’t—” Your voice came out too high—a clear indication you were lying— and so you clear your throat and tried again. “I wasn’t.” He’s smiling at you again, though he looks insanely hot wearing that cocky smirk, it still made you irritated nonetheless. “I wasn’t,” you repeated, furrowing your brows.

"Think he'll notice if you leave for a few minutes?" Ran asks you with a grin, making no attempt to hide the lust that's clouding his voice.

You bit your lip and shook your head quickly. With that, Ran stands and holds his hand out for you to grab.

You take it gratefully, your heart racing and your palms clammy. In seconds, you're being pulled off the couch, towards the door. For some reason, you feel as though you should be worried, Kozo's warning in the car replaying in your mind over and over again, but then you glance at Ran once more, his tall, lanky frame walking in front of you and your worries seem to disappear.

Rindou watches his brother take your hand and exit the room and rolls his eyes, not even the slightest bit surprised Ran would listen to his dick first rather than care about losing Kozo as a regular of the club. He downs the rest of his drink and heads over to the roulette table, determined to keep Kozo's attention on nothing but the game and not on the fact his girlfriend currently disappeared from sight with his brother.

Ran opens the door to a room titled VIP room, letting go of your hand and lets you walk in first. You turn around to the sight of him shrugging his jacket off and you instantly head towards the couch, shifting backwards until your back hit the couch arm. 

Ran follows, one knee on the couch as he cages you in between him and the arm. Your hands rise to his hair, looking up at him through hazy eyes before bringing him down closer. His lips brush against yours for a moment before he closes the distance. 

You couldn’t keep your hands off him, his broad shoulders, down to his waist, grabbing whatever you could muster. He groans into your mouth when your fingers rake up to his hair, scratching lightly.

His big hands spread your legs open, your dress riding up your thigh exposing more skin he’s been dying to touch, and slots himself between your spread legs. Your legs close around his waist, locking him in place as his tongue devours your mouth, licking lightly at yours until every inch of your patience is going haywire. 

The desire running through your veins make it so you don’t even care about what you’re doing, Kozo completely eliminated from your mind as you kiss him back as passionately as you can muster.  

His hand slides down the sides of your body, your waist, to your hips and he pulls away from the kiss to sit on his knees. Reaching behind him, he unlocks your legs from his body and spreads them open. You bite your lip and wriggle your hips to help him peel your panties off quicker. 

His fingers gravitate towards your cunt, soaking and ready for him. A small whimper leaves your mouth when his finger grazes your slit, moving upwards to your clit and rubs circles on it. Your mouth drops open as you pant softly at the sensation.

Satisfied, he inches forward, latches his lips onto your neck and sucks. His lips, plus the skilled movement of his fingers have your body working overtime, pleasure filling every pore of your skin as your back arches with every flick of his finger.

“Ran…” You’re the first to speak ever since entering the room and he hums in response against your neck, the vibrations echoing throughout your entire body.

“Yeah baby? Whaddya need?” His words, muffled from his face in your neck, still manage to reach you.

“I want…” you keen when his finger circles at your hole before pushing in, making your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion. “Feels so good .”

“I know baby.”  He pulls out from your neck. “Boutta make you feel even better.”  

His hand pulls the top of your strapless dress down, revealing your bra. He kisses your breast exposed from the bra cup and bites down softly on the flesh. He hasn’t even touched your nipples yet and you were already aching for him. 

You throw your head back against the couch arm when you moan, biting down on your lip hard as his finger inside you reaches a place that’s never been touched by your own fingers, or Kozo’s. You feel a whole new world of pleasure, mind so dissociated from reality that you don’t even notice he’s pulled your bra cup down all the way and latches his mouth to your nipple, sucking rhythmically with hollow cheeks as he gets the most out of your reactions. 

He switches to the other nipple, flicking and rolling the other wet one with his spare fingers. He squeezes your breast as he sucks, adding another finger into your wet pussy and begins to fuck it faster just to hear the squelch and the sound of your moans getting louder, body squirming, writhing on the couch, unable to even function anymore.

“I’m gonna —ah fuck !” Your hand flies to your mouth and you scream into it, legs shaking uncontrollably, body twitching as his fingers keep thrusting in and out of you. It takes more than thirty seconds for you to regain control over your body and weakly attempt to push him off you.

“That was so hot baby.” He’s chuckling and bending down to your pussy, spreading your folds open with two fingers. He eyes the wetness in front of him, your juices leaking from your quivering hole, soaking the couch and your inner thighs. 

You’re panting heavily, hand smacked over your eyes as you try to rub the stars in your vision away before yelping when you feel him blow cold air onto your bare cunt. He watches the way your hole spasms, laughing to himself before inching forward, sealing his lips to your folds. 

He sucks and kisses along your pussy, his tongue flicking through your juices, your clit, and even protrudes your hole, entering without any warning. Your hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him off while simultaneously grinding his face against your pussy. 

His lips attach to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves until a sound he’s satisfied with escapes your lips, then he’s re-entering his tongue into your pussy, licking around until you tug uselessly at his hair.

He loves seeing you like this, so broken and drunk on the feeling of his tongue and fingers. He had a feeling Kozo wasn’t satisfying you like he should be, and wants to raise the bar so high that you’ll never want to accept sex from a low-life scum like Kozo. Wants to raise the bar so high that you won’t be able to cum from a mouth that isn’t Ran’s, a cock that’s not Ran’s, or fingers that’s not his or your own. 

He’s so preoccupied in making you cum for a second time he doesn’t realise your legs are shaking uncontrollably again, unable to control yourself and you release on his face again except its more liquid than you’d ever produced before.

You fucking squirt on his face, on his tongue, and you want to sink into the floor from embarrassment. Ran pauses, pulls his face away from your pussy, completely drenched and looks at you peeking at him through a small hole you made with your hands covering your face.

“I’m so sorry—I—I told you to stop…” you try defend yourself but he’s pulling your hands away from your face.

“And you’re apologising for what? That was so hot baby.” He wipes his face with his shirt, uncaring of the huge wet stain on his perfectly ironed white shirt and  cages you back between him and the couch, his strong arms coming beside your head to hover above you. “You never done that before, right?”

You meekly shake your head and he grins, smug and proud of himself before bending downwards, capturing your lips in his. Your hands cup the side of his face and kiss him back softly, slowly, treasuring the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his tongue flicks playfully into your mouth.

“...Ran…” you whisper between kisses, obsessed with the taste, touch, feel of him. You can’t get enough. The way he feels against you, the sounds he makes when you make him feel good, the strength of his grip on your waist, the passion behind his eyes when he looks at you. 

You’ve never felt anything like it before.  Ran could get you off ten times in a row if he wanted to, and you’d happily let him.

Your hand travels from his cheek, around to his neck, eagerly meeting his kisses with soft moans, before running your spare hand down his chest to his pants, finally resting there and letting your fingers trail across the print of the dick poking through his pants. 

Ran smiles against your lips, opening his mouth and running his tongue up your neck and onto your ear lobe.

"I wanna make you feel good," you breath out shakily, hand still caressing the outline of his erection.  He moans a quiet "fuck okay" into your ear before shifting to sit on couch.

You get on your knees next to him, looking up at him and meet his lips again for another deep, intense kiss, then run your tongue down his jaw line, all the while unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. Ran takes a hold of your head, moving your lips further down his throat, groaning softly when you begin to leave marks on his skin.

His cock twitches in your hand as you stroke it in movement with your lips on his neck, trailing the tip of your thumb on his shaft until you’re brushing against the slit, lightly swirling around.  Ran jerks your head away from his neck and locks eyes with you. 

"You drive me crazy," he admits quietly, watching you intently.

You bite your lip and take your spare hand, tugging playfully on one of his braids and lean in close, lips brushing his, "you're driving me crazy too." You shut him up with a kiss before he can respond, nibbling his bottom lip and slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily. He moans into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours, spending sparks of electricity coursing through you.

You slowly strip him from his shirt, making sure you don't miss any detail about his body, memorizing every curve and shadow. "Wanna drive you even crazier," you whisper and kiss down his stomach.

Ran's breathing is becoming heavier and his skin has become flush as he watches you inch your way down his torso, sucking and licking the light trail of hair going down his abs, until you finally come to a halt at his crotch. Sliding off the couch, you got on the floor on your knees and bend down until your lips brush the head of his cock.

Looking up at him, you take the first hesitant lick of his cock and watch him quiver slightly. His eyes burn with desire, hands gripping the sides of the couch tightly, his eyes watching every flick of your tongue on his length. You begin to lick and suck, going deeper each time and taking all of him in, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Ran's body.

You wrap your lips around his shaft, moving them up and down at the same pace, humming softly when a low moan escapes his lips, vibrating against your tongue as you continue to lick, swirl your tongue around the sensitive head. The way he smells, tastes and feels is intoxicating. Every lick sends more and more tingles down your spine, adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

After a few minutes of this slow blowjob, Ran stands up and helps you stand as well. "Get on the couch," he says, caressing your hips as you look at him expectantly.

"Okay," you giggle, obeying him.  He picks up his jeans and grabs a condom from his back pocket, slipping it on his cock as you crawl on top of the couch, on all fours and arch your back, inviting him to come closer, pushing your ass against him.

Ran kneels in front of you and guides the head of his hard cock to your wet entrance, rubbing it up and down over your slit, then pauses. You look back, about to ask what's wrong before he speaks first. "Actually, turn around. Wanna see your face as I fuck you."

His words send waves of heat through you and you lift yourself off the couch, turning around so that you're on your back. Ran licks his lips, spreading your legs wide open for him, eyes never leaving your own. The heat behind his eyes are so intense, you squeeze your eyes closed to avoid them.

His hands tilt your head up and then leans forward, kissing your forehead softly.  "Open your eyes, pretty," he whispers, nipping your earlobe gently.

You slowly open your eyes and glance up at him, seeing a smirk spread across his face, seeing desire and need there. His voice is strained and thick when he asks if you're ready. You bite your lip and nod yes, biting back a scream when his hot, throbbing length slips inside you.  It hurts a little but you manage to hide your wince by smashing your hand over your mouth.

"Shit," he curses under his breath and pulls almost completely out of you, only to slam himself back inside of you hard and fast. You gasp loudly, hands rising to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Ran's hands come to rest beside your head, thrusting into you repeatedly, each thrust harder than the last.

"Faster," you pant and arch your back.

He continues to thrust, letting go of your hips, wrapping his arms around you instead. He grinds his hips into yours, whispering, "Fuck, you feel amazing, baby. Just as I thought you would be."  A small smile spreads across your face, "You alright?"

Your cheeks are flushed, feeling both turned on and embarrassed at the same time, "ye-yeah...I'm g—good," you stutter out when his hips start to move faster again.  Your hips start to meet his and the familiar pressure builds quickly.

The first few thrusts of orgasm hit you hard, pleasure shooting through your core, soaking your insides and causing you to tense up as your inner walls clamp down on Ran's length. Your body trembles beneath him, moaning loudly as you clutch his arms tighter, not wanting to let go, wanting him to keep fucking you forever.

As your climax subsides, the pressure releases its hold and he slams into you one final time, letting out a deep groan suffocated by the press of his face into your shoulder. His hips stutter as he fills the condom, thrusting weakly into your body once, twice, three times before coming down next to you on the couch, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin.

You lie on the couch, body still trembling from the intense pleasure you just experienced, trying to catch your breath. The feel of Ran's weight pressed onto you makes you relax, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body, letting out a soft purr of contentment.

He turns his head, resting it on your chest. "That was good, huh?" His head snaps up at the sound of your laughter. "Yeah? You enjoyed it?"

"Best I ever had," you say honestly, smiling slightly, holding his head in your hands and looking earnestly at him.

Ran looks away for a second, biting his lip. After a moment he looks back at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Leave that guy," he says out of nowhere and you blink at him.

"What?" you ask with confusion.

"Kozo, Kazoo whatever the fuck. Leave him." He drops his head onto your shoulder childishly, his hands clutching your bare back as he tugs you closer. "Don't wanna share you with that guy."

"You're already assuming I want you back. Moving a little fast, no?" you tease, giggling.

"I already know your answer, pretty. Stop playing dumb," he sighs dramatically and you raise an eyebrow, pulling away from him.

"Confident aren't you?"

"Am I wrong?" he sits up, bringing his legs off the couch, coming closer to you. "That guy treats you like literal shit. There's no possible way you're thinking about staying with him."

You shrug and look down at your lap. "He buys me nice things. I don't wanna lose that."

Ran inches closer to your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. "Can buy you better things," he says, trailing his fingers along your jawline. "Can treat you better too."

He grabs your chin, turning your face towards his, planting a firm, chaste kiss on your lips.  When he pulls away he smiles widely at you, biting his bottom lip. "Say it," he whispers.

You swallow nervously, looking up at him, debating whether or not you should give in. "Alright..."  you mumble, looking up at him with a big smile on your face. “I’ll leave him. But you gotta take me out on a nice date.”

“Bet.” He presses a long, firm kiss on your forehead. “Now lets get you outta here.” 

Ran helps you put all your clothes back on, and by help it means trying to slip them off everytime you tug them back on. After giving into temptation, another ten minute make out session on the couch—with your clothes on—you finally pick up the ten missed calls and texts from Kozo asking where the hell you were.

You look at Ran, asking for help on what to say. 

“I have an idea. Give it here.” He held his hand out for you to give you his phone. You look at him sceptically, the look on his face screaming all sorts of mischief.

“You won’t do anything weird, right? I wanna end things with him but I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Uh-huh,” he responds, clearly not paying attention as he taps away at your phone. You wait for him to finish and turns the phone off and hands it back to you. “Ran what the hell did you do?”

“Blocked him.” He stands up when you gape at him, shocked. 

“What the fuck? I told you not to do anything weird…” Your voice gets lower and quieter when his hand skirts around your hip, pulling you closer to him. “Ran…I’m serious. He’s going to be so mad at me when he—”

“He’s not gonna do shit. Now put your coat on, lemme take you home.” 

You do as he says and when you’re leaving the club with Ran’s hand in yours, you pretend not to see Kozo eyes wide with shock, turning to anger when Ran smirks in his direction, his hand snaking to your lower back to help guide you out the door like the ever so respectable gentleman he is.

mr steal yo girl is back hehe

Not proof read so ignore any mistakes plz

#✰ : tr #—tr </3 #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev #haitani ran smut #ran smut

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Part 10

Yes, ladies and gents and non-binary readers alike, the long awaited final part to A Mess has arrived. I’ve had this written for months and honestly thought I posted it already, so forgive the wait. I’m just a 23 year old teenage girl.

ANYWAYS, the polls for the contents of this final part resulted in:

More smut

Post Terminus / Pre Alexandria setting

The relationship becoming officially established & public

ANNNDDD a sequel series which is in the works ❤️‍🔥

18+ MDNI || Warnings: smut (male receiving oral, fingering, mild grinding), TWD typical stuff

      The days seemed to drag on the way they did after Shane died. You felt like an old paintbrush dragging across a desolate canvas, leaving a trail of splotchy grays and bloody smears, painting your surroundings to mimic the twisted feelings of turmoil inside you. The prison was gone and so many were lost. Beth was dead. So were Bob and Tyreese. At least Carol was back.

        You struggled to find anything to be grateful for, anymore. Sure, you narrowly escaped the hungry bellies of the cannibals at Terminus, and sure you were still alive, but were you really living? Was dragging the worn boots Daryl had gifted you when life was more forgiving across cracked asphault while your stomach gnawed away at your insides really any kind of life? Sometimes you wondered what you pressed on for. Especially with Daryl so reserved and closed off like he was. The loss of Beth had done something to him that you couldn't fully relate to because you weren't with Beth after the prison, you escaped with Glenn and found yourself locked away in a dark train car by the time you finally reunited with Daryl.

        He had formed a sort of connection with her, something pure and protective, something that was shattered right before his eyes with a single gunshot. 

        You wished he'd just talk to you. Or touch you. Or even look at you. Was he so miserable he lost all interest? Surely not. He loved you. He told you so, the day he wound up in that train car with you.

        You shielded your eyes as a bright light filled the dark box that confined you. You were sure they were coming to finally kill you off or whatever it was they planned to do with you. 

        You had sustained an injury to your head in the struggle to round you all up, so you were admittedly out of it. It wasn't until you felt rough hands around your cheeks and heard the panic and relief in his voice that you really registered what was going on.

        "(Y/N)." He breathed as he planted a rough kiss on your forehead then your lips. "I thought you were dead. I love ya, ya hear me? I fuckin' love you."

        You may not have remembered much from your concussed state, and he may have never said it again, but that was a memory you held onto with every last bit of your strength. He loved you.  

        You knew he just needed some time, but you also knew you needed him. You were slipping away; losing hope. A simple touch could have made the difference of life or death for you at that point. 

        Then, it rained. It was welcome. Your dry cracked lips, burning throat, and aching organs were brought back to life as you caught the droplets on your tongue. When the thunder rumbled, Daryl urged you all to an old barn he had found off on his own. He did that often; going off on his own.

        The night was loud and it was hard to find any rest. The wind slapped the weathered wooden walls and seemingly shook the ground. The thunder was loud and frequent, bright flashes infiltrating the cracks and openings as the lightning grew closer. You tossed and turned a lot, only to eventually sit yourself up and rub your eyes. You jumped when your eyes readjusted to the darkness to see a looming figure before you.

        "Hey." He whispered. You blinked.

        "Hey." You whispered back. He stepped over and sat down beside you.

        "Y'alright?"  He asked.

        "Can't sleep." You shrugged, not looking at him.

        "Mm." He nodded. "Other than that."

        "Just... tired." Was all you managed. There wasn't enough time in a day -- or sleepless night -- to go through and examine your emotions enough to lay them all out flat for him. Plus, that was never really his strong suit. You two showed each other how you felt in place of saying it. You always had. Which was another reason it hurt you so bad for him to pull away. You knew if he was done with what you had, he'd never say it. He'd just let you figure it out on your own, and you'd never really know why.

        "That ain't it." He pointed out. "But it's okay. I know I ain't been much for talkin' lately. You don't gotta be, either."

        You were lost for words. Was this an attempt at letting you back in? At being close to you?

        "Anyway, I, uh.." He cleared his throat and glanced around, scanning through the dim light of the dying fire to ensure he hadn't woken anyone. "I just miss ya, is all."

        "Oh." You nodded. "Yeah. Me too." 

        "Look, I just needed to figure it out, ya know? Let myself feel it." He persisted. "After Beth... After everything, I just couldn't let myself. But now I did, and I need to say sorry."

        "I just didn't know if..."

        "Nah." He cut you off. "That wasn't on you. That was me. 'N' I'm sorry." 

        "It's okay." You placed a gentle hand on his knee. "I get it."

        Some moments passed in silence as you both felt devoid of anything to say. He cleared his throat again.

        "Can I stay with you?" He asked.

        "Yeah. Of course." You half smiled, even though he probably couldn't see. You shuffled over to a bed of old hay where you had laid out a jacket.

        He laid down, propping his arm under his head in place of a pillow, and your crawled down beside him, curling up into his side and taking a breath. He was ripe with a lack of access to hygiene, but then again, so were you, so you decided to enjoy the musk as a byproduct of his closeness.

        The longer you lay awake, feeling the warmth of his body, the more it hit you just how bad you needed him in such trying times. You realized then, more than ever, how bad you were craving his touch, his scent, his voice, his taste.

        You popped your head up and looked up at his face. It was shadowy and dark but you’d recognize his features in total darkness. He glanced down at you with a softness, wondering what you were about to  say.

         However, ‘saying’ wasn’t on your agenda. No, it was much more of a ‘doing’ that you had planned. 

         You stretched your neck out to kiss him on the jaw as his hand rested contently on the back of your head. He thought you were just being affectionate in the way that girlfriends did when they missed their man, and you were, but you had other things planned, too. As your lips planted little kisses along his jawline until they met his own, he relaxed into the semi-comfortable bed of hay. He figured whatever you were doing, was just your way of telling him you missed him. After all, you two always showed what you felt, and rarely said it. 

        When your lips met his you quietly climbed over top of him, straddling him as you depend the kiss. The more you touched him, the deeper you felt his absence since Grady. 

        You broke away for a breath and littered more sloppy kisses over his cheeks and neck, stopping somewhere in between to nibble at his earlobe. He groaned quietly under the weight of you and your affections, hoping you’d stop whatever you were doing soon, as the aching member in his jeans was already begging to be touched. Unfortunately, there was no end in sight to your erotic touches. As you shifted, your own wet heat glided over the bulge in his pants, and you realized you were succeeding in your mission. 

        You were downright needy for him, breathy whines escaping you as you grounded against him, rubbing your flat hands over his chest with hunger, catching his lips in yours between sucking and nibbling at the flesh of his neck. His hands gripped your thighs as you got hotter and hornier, quickly realizing he wasn’t getting out of this one. 

        When you pulled back again, flushed and sweaty already, you could barely see the glisten in his eyes as he stared back at you. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Quiet, okay?” 

        He nodded once and you slowly slid down until your face was level with his waist. Slowly, silent as you could manage, you unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and wiggled them down his thighs. He let out a small breath when you rigged his boxers down, cold air hitting his bare flesh. With one last glance up at his face, you smirked and turned your attention to his tip, gently licking and planting wet kisses all around it. 

        A pleasant “agh” escaped him, prompting you to take it a step further. You wrapped your juicy lips around his tip and slowly lowered yourself, bobbing up and down with no sense of haste. He tried desperately to suppress any vocalizations that may have been at bay, fearful he’d wake someone, especially Carl or baby Jude.

        It was painfully slow, the way you’d take him in further every so often, and when you finally met the base of him, he couldn’t suppress the groan. You quickly glanced around for any stirring bodies, and continued when you found none. Slow like a snail, gliding your lips and tongue up and down his length, hollowing out your cheeks to create a vacuum. You wanted him to understand what he was missing, what kind of bliss you could give him. You wanted him to feel your absence when he wasn’t around, just like you did his.

        Soon enough he was throbbing in your mouth, his hips uncontrollably jerking. He was close. You debated whether or not to take it all the way or leave him begging for more. You opted to give him some relief, given the miserable circumstances of your lives. 

        You took all of him at once, his load spilling into the back of your throat and dripping down. You stayed like that for a moment, barely bobbing back and forth, allowing him to ride his high and come back down. 

        You wiped your mouth and grinned at him as you pulled away. With your help, he shimmied his pants back up and secured the button. You took your place beside him once again, snuggling up close, your head rested between his chest and shoulder. 

        He took a few minutes to recover before he used two fingers to guide your jaw up so he could place a gentle kiss on your swollen lips. He moved his kissed over your cheek and to your ear and whispered, “Quiet, okay?”

        You bit your lip and smiled as he carefully slid his fingers in your jeans and traced one across your slit, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. Deciding his big hand wouldn’t have enough room in your buttoned jeans, he went ahead and unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down to allow more movement. 

        With that out of the way, he could work delicately on your sweet spots, gently dragging his finger up and down your slit to get it nice and wet. All the while, you were biting down on your lip trying to keep quiet. He noticed the way your hips with try to follow his finger when it moved up. You wanted him inside you, so he’d give it to you. 

        He slid his middle finger inside you and pumped it in and out a few times, laying a free hand over your mouth to make sure your sounds could be muffled. Your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his calloused skin massaging your insides, effortlessly finding that one spot that made you weak. His thumb found your clit as he fingered you, rubbing little circles, eliciting a small moan. He paused and gave you a look, reminding you where you were. You nodded, letting him know you understood, and he continued. A trembling breath released from your nose, his other hand still over your mouth, as he slipped a second finger inside and continued massaging your g-spot and rubbing your clit.

        As he settled into a rhythm, your body responded. You rocked your hips with his movements, communicating to him to keep up what he was doing. He understood. He always understood you.

        In no time at all, all that pent up frustration and aches for his touch finally heated to a boiling point, and you spilled over. Your body and voice trembled as you shook and rode your orgasm on his fingers. When your body calmed and you flinched at his touch, he pulled his hand away and buttoned you back up. He relaxed again, triumphant this time, and you curled up close to him and drifted to sleep in an instant. 

        Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, but given your position sprawled across him, you were quick to get up with him. The two of you went outside to assess the storm damage. Trees had fallen in the night, narrowly missing the barn itself. You made small talk as you wandered the area, occasionally taking out a stray walker. When you went back inside, hand in hand, the rest of the group was awake and shuffling around. Maggie was the first to notice the way Daryl held your hand so casually, then Sasha, then Glenn and the rest. Nobody knew what to say, but they all stared and exchanged glances amongst each other. Daryl shifted a tad, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but he braved his anxieties and stood firmly beside you. He cleared his throat. 

         “Damage is pretty bad out there. ‘S a miracle then damn trees didn’t fall right on us.” He said.

        “Huh.” Rick hummed, nodding, still perplexed. He nodded down at your hand entwined with Daryl’s and raised his eyebrows. 

        “Oh.” Daryl shrugged, holding your hands up and looking down at them. He realized the two do you never really established a relationship, especially not completely openly. He figured the way he told you he loved you back in that train car at Terminus would have been a dead giveaway, but tensions were high back then. Maybe it went unnoticed. He shrugged again. “Yeah.” 

        You stifled a laugh and shook your head. Your family all smirked and smiled sweetly, but didn’t press further, save for Carol, who spoke in a ‘told you so’ kind of tone. “It’s about time you two quit playing footsies and took things to the next level.” 

Masterlist // Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Five

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And everything comes to an end. Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 26.5k (from the bottom of my heart…my bad) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is the final chapter! Thank you for all the love on this little story of mine, I truly appreciate it. Warnings: Naval and medical inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, hospitals, blood, unprotected sex, female-receiving oral, my love of happy endings, pregnancy and children, and overuse of italics.

Jake hated hospitals.

He hated the scent of bleach and the crinkle of the overwashed sheets on the tiny beds. He hated how everything was said in gentle murmurs while machines beeped and hummed in every nook and corner. But he would sit in this stupid, uncomfortable plastic chair for a week straight if it meant that he would be told how you were doing.

Everything since your house had been a blur of blood and flashing lights. He nearly fought the paramedic that shoved him out of the way to get to you, adrenaline keeping him focused on you. There had been blood everywhere. He still had some dried beneath his fingernails. The cops that had shown up had, for a moment, believed Jake had been the one to hurt you until your neighbor had yelled about a man running through his yard, covered in blood.

But they lost him.

The cops lost Luke somewhere in the next neighborhood over and you were taken away in the back of an ambulance before Jake could even get the chance to climb in beside you. They then spent another hour and a half getting Jake’s statement and taking pictures of his bloody clothes before telling him not to leave town. It was a fucking mess. Three more cops, who looked like they were more interested in getting a blonde nurse’s number than protecting you, were stationed around the hallway of the emergency room waiting area.

It had been hours since they had rushed you into surgery. No one would tell him anything about you because he wasn’t listed as your emergency contact. The nurse behind the desk did seem to take a modicum of pity on Jake–with a grim look on her face that had Jake’s stomach sinking–and told him to be patient and that the emergency contact had been left a voicemail and she hoped that they would be arriving soon.

What kind of emergency contact doesn’t pick up the phone?

Jake scrubbed a hand over his eyes, stinging and tired. But he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. Not until he knew you were okay. The one thing he did to help pass the time was telling the group chat which hospital you’d been taken to—but he kept his phone on silent when almost everyone asked what had happened. They’d probably be able to connect the dots if they were on the way to your house. There was blood smeared out onto the front stoop and into the driveway. It would paint quite a picture. The only person he actually replied to was Rooster, who had texted him outside the group.

It was him, wasn’t it?

All Jake could think to type in return was, Of course it fucking was.

He jumped when someone fell into the seat beside him and it took a stretched moment for Jake to realize that it was Maverick. He hadn’t even seen the other man walk in.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked.

“I, uh, I guess I’m fine.” That was a blatant lie but neither man commented on it. “Why are you here?”

“Rooster is calling her brother and sister, and the Kazanskys, keeping them updated. He’ll be here soon but he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Cotton was stuffed between Jake’s ears as he stared at the older pilot, mind buzzing. “Rooster is her emergency contact, isn’t he?”

Mav nodded but had his eyes trained on the cop currently flirting with the nurse at the desk.

“What does he know? Does he-”

“He was only told that she was in surgery. As soon as he’s done with her family, he’s coming here, too.” Maverick’s voice was calm and even, the tone Jake knew he used when talking to his students.

Jake wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or comforted. So he settled on neither. “He doesn’t know anything? Seriously?”

“They couldn’t give him an update every minute. They’re concentrating on keeping her alive.”

Jake smashed his tongue between his teeth so he didn’t say something that would get him brought up in front of Cyclone or Warlock. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

The doors to the waiting room opened again and Rooster jogged in, eyes wide as they swept the lobby before they landed on the two pilots. He was then yanking Jake up and out of his seat and wrapped him in a tight hug that smelt of more bleach and sweat. And Jake froze for a moment and his arms hung limply at his sides before returning the embrace. “She’s gotta be okay, right?” His voice was strained like he was trying to speak while pulling Gs.

Jake only nodded. You had to be okay. Selfishly, he didn’t want to just have a taste of what it was like to have you only for you to be ripped away from him, bleeding out under his hands. He had felt your heartbeat slow and your body go slack. He had seen your eyes roll back, unseeing. The last thing he’d heard from the paramedics when they were shoving you into the back of the ambulance was, “she’s crashing! She’s crashing!”

But Jake still had to hope. He didn’t know what else he could do.

Rooster stepped back after a moment before Maverick suggested checking in at the nurse station to see if he could get an update. He was quick to do so and Jake watched the nurse turn to her computer, heart in his throat. Her eyes darted to Jake for a moment before she whispered something to Rooster. The other man’s hand clenched into a fist on top of the desk before relaxing again as he nodded and turned away.

Before Jake could even open his mouth, Rooster said, “they don’t know how long she’s going to be in surgery. But they’ll tell us as soon as she’s out.”

“That’s it?” Jake bit out. “That’s all they could tell you?”

“Seresin-”

Jake stepped away for a moment, shoving a hand through his hair. Screaming in the middle of the waiting room wouldn’t help. You would still be on a table in a room he couldn’t get in and he’d probably get thrown out of the hospital. That wouldn’t help you.

He just wanted to see you again. Wanted to know you were going to be okay.

“Listen,” Rooster started, “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to call Georgie and Danny and Georgie was afraid she’d gone into early labor as I was telling her. Then I had to call Sarah just as Bob and Phoenix showed up to clean up Punch’s house. We didn’t want her to come back to a mess after all this is settled.”

If she gets out was left unsaid. Truthfully, Jake wasn’t even sure you would want to go back to your house after all of that. Hedidn’t want you to go back, but that was a different argument.

Maverick stood, slapping his hands on his thighs as he did. “I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll bring you back a cup.” He didn’t let either of the other men argue before he was setting off down the hall where he’d surely come back with three cups of brown sludge.

Rooster sank back into a plastic chair and Jake slowly followed his lead.

The cops hadn’t even turned their heads when Jake had yelled. There was no way he was leaving until he knew you were safe. “Is Georgie okay?” Jake finally asked after a stretched silence.

The barest hint of a smile pushed at Bradshaw’s mouth before quickly fading. “Yeah. She’s okay. Baby is, too, and has a few more weeks before her due date. I had to convince her not to get on a plane and come down here.” He sighed. “Danny said he’d come down only if Punch asked him herself. He knows how she gets about people wanting to take care of her.”

Jake almost laughed. Yeah, he knew that, too.

“But I think he called the chief of police here and is threatening legal action for their shoddy work already.”

“Her entire family operates on a different frequency, huh?”

Bradshaw’s eyes cut to him for a moment. “I think they’re gonna like you.”

That made Jake smile. Just for a split second. Just until he remembered that you still had to pull through in order for him to meet them. He didn’t want to meet them at your funeral. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” It was soft. Softer than anything he’d ever heard come from Rooster’s mouth. It twisted behind Jake’s ribs. “You just gotta, you know, actually get your head out of your ass and ask her to dinner or something.”

Jake huffed, another trace of a smile on his face. He could refute that claim, tell him that you had promised to go get steak and that Jake saw a future with you that he would tear the world apart to see. But he didn’t. That was your secret for now. “What did you tell everyone?”

The man sighed. “The truth: Punch was nearly killed by a crazy ex-boyfriend with a vendetta.”

It was an oversimplified version of the truth, but it was a kindness, Jake supposed, to keep the gory details unspoken. You would tell the Daggers if you wanted. A small bit of shame bit at the back of his mind when he realized how intent he had been about learning your secrets. Did you resent him for it? He hoped not, but he would closely guard your secrets anyway. If he was given the chance, he’d keep all your secrets.

Rooster shook his head, letting his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk. “Georgie knows most of what happened with Luke but apparently Punch made her promise not to tell Danny that the money she gave their parents to pay off his medical bills came from Luke’s father paying her to keep her mouth shut.”

Jake screwed his eyes shut with that revelation. You were always taking care of someone else.

Maverick came back with three cups of coffee that did actually taste like tar but Jake choked it down anyway. Just as he threw his cup into the trash can, a door down the hallway opened. A woman in dark scrubs stepped out. Jake watched her step to the nurse’s station and say something before the nurse pointed at their small group.

All of them stood as she approached and Jake’s blood roared in his ears as she asked which one of them was Bradshaw. He stepped forward and Jake felt a small glimmer of hope start to spark in his chest when she smiled. “She’s a fighter. She coded twice but she came right back each time. Her lung did collapse but the second stab wound missed anything vital. If she makes it through the night, I would consider it an ‘all clear.’ She’s going to need to take it easy for a few weeks after she gets discharged here, but I am almost certain that she’ll make a full recovery.”

The rock that had settled over Jake’s heart disappeared.

You were going to be okay.

You were going to be okay.

He was going to take you to get steak. He was going to take you on that promised date. He was going to make you smile again, make you laugh. You were going to be okay.

“Can we go see her?” Maverick asked.

The doctor nodded. “She’s sedated and we’ve moved her to a private room, but I’m a firm believer in surrounding yourself with people who love you helps with the healing process. Visiting hours are over, so you’ll need to keep it down but I’ll bring you to her.”

The square hospital hallways seemed to stretch on forever and the elevator actually did stall between floors but soon Jake was pushing into your room, ignoring the pair of uniformed cops on either side of your door. There were machines everywhere and an IV drip, too.

He must have paused in the doorway because Rooster clapped him on the shoulder before scooting by him to stand at your side.

“She’d want you to be here.”

Jake looked to see Maverick standing at his side, more than a little uneasy with the glint in the older man’s eye.

“I’m not blind, Seresin. If I hadn’t known before, the way you acted tonight made it glaringly obvious.”

Shit. This could be bad. Maverick could report the ‘relationship’ to the brass and you both could be reprimanded if not worse. “Mav-”

“But I can turn a blind eye when necessary. She means a lot to you, to Rooster. The entire squadron is either cleaning up her house or waiting for word on how she’s doing. This thing, whatever it is, makes you both happy. I’m not going to stand in the way of it.”

The smallest bit of tension slid off Jake’s shoulders with that. Maverick was known for breaking the rules when he thought he was doing the right thing. If he was grouping Jake and Punch into that, he wouldn’t fight him on it. So, he offered the other man a nod, thinking it was better to keep his mouth shut anyway.

“I’ve been told she’ll have a guard at her door for the entirety of her stay here. I’ll have an orderly take down the names of anyone you’re allowing to visit.”

Rooster nodded and Jake imagined he was probably making a list of all the Daggers’ names, the Kazanskys, and a few of the other ADs to have written down.

You looked so fragile. So breakable. Of course, Jake was well aware how finite life could be. He was a fighter pilot–he knew the chances of dying could always be slim to none when it came to real dogfights or combat. But there was something different about you. You weren’t supposed to be in this hospital bed and he wasn’t supposed to be waiting for you to wake up. Not like this, anyway. He had once thought about how it would be to wake up beside you in his bed, with blankets and sheets that smelled like you and your perfume. Not of bleach and metal. You were supposed to be full of life and giving him shit, all with a smile. Not this. Not confined to a hospital bed and unconscious.

Slowly, he followed Maverick into the too-small room and took the chair on your bed’s left side while Rooster and Mav were on your right. The chair at least had a bit of padding and his spine didn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself out of alignment. But he saw how still you were. Your chest was barely rising and falling with each breath. He couldn’t hear your breaths over the beeping machines. There were thick bandages covering both of your palms, held together with sticky medical tape. A fresh wave of anger stormed at the back of Jake’s mind for a moment. He hadn’t even realized your hands had been hurt when he had rushed into your home. There had been too much blood all over you; he had only seen the two stab wounds, pumping blood out of holes in your ruined shirt. What else had Luke done to you? It was a small solace to see that most of the blood had been washed away. There were still splotches of dried blood around your fingers and beneath your chin, staining around the crux of your elbow in a ring, just clean enough for all the machines to patch in, and even more beneath your nails. Just like Jake. You had fought so hard.

“I wanted to get steak with you.”

The simple sentence you had labored to say had echoed in the back of Jake’s mind since the paramedics had ripped you away from him. Had you been scared? Were you trying to say goodbye with those words but wanting to soften the blow?

He wanted to reach out and just feel the warmth of your hand in his again, just to give himself some peace that you really were alive. That you made it out. But the furthest he reached was right beside your unmoving hand. Just out of reach. What if he hurt you? What if he was the reason everything went wrong now? He couldn’t do that to you.

“I’ve called Cyclone,” Maverick said, breaking the tense unquiet. “He has notified the MPs and said we could formally request Naval security and he would personally make sure it gets approved.”

Jake looked to Rooster to see him already looking at him. “I’d prefer that.” The cops haven’t exactly proven themselves to be reliable; the fact that Luke had managed to evade the cops while covered in your blood didn’t exactly give them any credibility in their ability to keep you safe. Jake needed you safe. Knowing someone like Cyclone was willing to throw his weight around to make sure you were as safe as possible was a calming thought, as calm as anything could be in this situation.

“Me too,” Rooster agreed.

The three men were quiet as another doctor came in a few minutes later to look you over and read your chart. His eyes did seem to flit from Bradshaw and Mav to Jake and he wasn’t subtle when he checked the time on his watch. But there was no way they were leaving. He did seem to get the hint–or the cops outside may have helped–because he didn’t say anything about them being in there well past visiting hours and said that you may wake up in a few hours. He then left the room without a look back. It wasn’t a great deal of information, but maybe they’d get more out of the day shift.

After Rooster yawned for the third time, Maverick suggested they all go home for the last few hours before dawn. “I don’t think we’ll be much help here anyway.”

“I’m gonna stay with her,” Jake said immediately. He wasn’t going to leave you now. What if you woke up and you were all alone? Someone needed to be with you until you woke up. And Jake wanted it to be him. It needed to be him.

Rooster nodded, as if expecting that, as he stood and wiped at his tired eyes. “I’ll bring you food when I swing by tomorrow.”

It was a simple enough sentence. But Jake knew what it was. Approval. They trusted him to take care of you. Sure, they trusted him in the skies and enough to help in the infrequent bar fight at the Hard Deck. But this was different. This was you.

Rooster squeezed his shoulder on the way out the door and Maverick nodded at him in goodbye before saying, “you have my number if you need anything. You call, I’ll answer.”

Jake wordlessly nodded and told them to get home safe before turning back to you. You hadn’t moved. God, he wished you would have, selfishly. He just needed to know you were going to be okay. Again, he wanted to reach out and just touch you. His hand inched across the bed and fell short again. His one comfort was feeling the warmth of you start to soak through the bedding and into the starchy sheet beneath Jake’s palm.

But he still couldn’t touch you. Not yet.

Hours ticked by and Jake tried to not yell when he heard the repeated squawks from the cops’ radios outside your door, continuously saying that they hadn’t found Luke. It was like he had vanished. Then, when he tried to watch the tiny television screwed into the wall on the other side of the room, it was tuned into a local news station that was, of course, broadcasting their story about a “violent domestic disturbance” with your house in the background lit up in blue and red lights. “Police say that the suspect is still at large.” He quickly turned the television back off with a grimace and a matching curse. There was no way to make the chair more comfortable and Jake settled for leaning forward to settle his arms across the bed near your legs and drop his head onto his hands. This could work, right? And he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but a few minutes later, he was snoring.

Jake woke to the sound of poorly hidden whispers scratching at his ears and a crick in his neck. His eyes slowly opened, squinting against the brightness of the room to see Bob and Phoenix bickering not-so-quietly near the door. Both had large bouquets of flowers in their arms, along with a small bag from a diner down the street, and were dressed in their khaki uniforms; they must have stopped by before heading to base. A quick glance at his watch let Jake know that it was still fairly early, probably not even close to proper visiting hours.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Phoenix said. “I knew he wouldn’t leave her.”

“I refuse to acknowledge a bet right now.” But Bob still pulled out his wallet and handed over a crisp bill to his pilot. “Ridiculous.”

“I am clinging to the fact that she’s alive enough for him to fall asleep at her bedside, all right? I need a little joy.”

“And ten dollars, apparently.”

“I’m awake, you know,” Jake groused as he sat straight. Both his neck and back popped noisily and Bob grimaced at the noise but Jake hardly cared as he turned to look at you, hoping that your beautiful eyes would be open and you could smile at him again.

But you were still unmoved on the flat pillow. Nothing had changed.

As if on autopilot, Jake reached out to grab your hand but stopped short, curling his fingers into his palm before his hand fell back into his lap.

“I’m surprised you slept at all,” Bob said as he took the flowers from Phoenix and filled a vase–that he apparently brought with him–with water and dropped both bouquets into it before setting it near the window.

“It was an accident,” Jake said, turning his head left, then right, eliciting another pair of pops. He probably should get up and splash some water on his face at least. Maybe he could ask Rooster or Javy to swing by his house and grab him a change of clothes. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw a text from Maverick telling him that he had been cleared to take the day off. He hadn’t even thought about that. All of his thoughts had been consumed by you. Phoenix handed him the diner bag and said it was from Rooster but he caught the knowing look in her eye. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered right now. He didn’t care about hiding how he felt about you now. To be fair, she had probably suspected something at brunch.

Bob hummed and took the chair Rooster had used last night before scooting closer to the side of the bed. He carefully took one of your hands in his, mindful of your bandaging and the wires and tubes connecting you to the machines, and kissed your fingers. “Hi, Punch,” he whispered.

Jake looked away, feeling a bit like he was intruding. He knew how much this must be hurting Bob, too. To know that the man that he had saved you from once, had tried to kill you again.

Bob had no problem touching you. So, why couldn’t Jake? He just needed to reach out and touch you. Just slip his fingers beneath yours and give himself that small bit of peace. He continued to war with himself when Phoenix leaned over just enough to kiss your forehead. “I have so much to tell you and I have so many questions, but you have to get better first, all right?” She whispered. “First you need to get better.”

Jake stood and gave them a moment, moving into the small ensuite to freshen up as much as he could and scrubbed a bit more blood from under his nails. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he nearly grimaced. His hair was a mess. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his shirt–not the one that was covered in your blood, that one had been handed over to the cops–grabbed from his gym bag in the backseat of his truck, was rumpled and smelt of hospital. He texted Javy and asked for him to bring a change of clothes and his toiletries go-bag if he had the chance after work. It felt like his entire universe had shifted on its axis ever since Phoenix’s text had come through. How many different ways could he tell himself that he nearly lost you? Still, he pushed out of the bathroom to see Phoenix flipping through the charts usually clipped to the end of your bed, and Bob slowly pulling away from you as he stood.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be going through those, Phoenix.”

But she waved him off, eyes flicking over the papers. “My sister is a neurosurgeon, you know. I helped her study all the time. I can read a chart just fine.” The other pilot looked over your charts in silence before dragging her gaze to him. “Rooster said you were the one who found her before the paramedics arrived.”

It wasn’t a question but Jake still nodded with his stomach curling into knots.

She snapped the chart shut and clipped back onto the edge of your bed. “You helped save her life. Keeping pressure on her wounds likely kept her from bleeding out before they could sew her back up. Your hands helped her then, they won’t hurt her now.”

Bob stepped to his pilot’s side with a sigh, halting anything Jake could have said. “We should probably get back to base.” He then clapped Jake on the shoulder with a small smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Phoenix essentially did the same and turned toward the door. Just before she disappeared into the hall, she turned back to Jake and set her mouth in a firm line. “You are two of the most stubborn people I’ve met. But don’t be stubborn with this. Okay?” And then she turned and left, leaving Jake alone with you again.

Damn.

They won’t hurt her now.

He had to believe her. He had to. Slowly, Jake sat back down and reached out. His hand hovered over yours for a moment before gently falling over yours, mindful of your bandages. You were warm, so warm. Alive. Tears stung at Jake’s eyes as he curled his fingers around yours. He had nearly lost you. He could still see your scared eyes looking up at him. He could still see the blood on your teeth. He could still see it all. Jake raised your joined hands to his mouth and he brushed a kiss to your fingers. “I’m right here, Punch. All right? I just need you to wake up for me. Show me those beautiful eyes, darlin’.”

But you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t move. And Jake had to continue to hope that you would soon.

A nurse came in a few moments later and looked you over, carefully poking and prodding before injecting something into one of your IVs. The twitching of your fingers grew slower and slower until it stopped.

“What did you give her?” Jake asked.

The nurse threw him a look over her shoulder before scribbling something in the chart. “Just something for the pain. She’s going to be uncomfortable when she wakes up. That should just take the edge off for now, until we can figure out how she’ll respond to other pain medication.”

Before Jake could even think to ask if they knew when you could wake up, a familiar face was bursting through the doorway and nearly leveling the nurse who was trying to leave. Sarah Kazansky was a flurry of movement as she came in, looking like she’d sprinted out of her house at first light to arrive at the hospital.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Sarah’s voice shook as she took the chair at your side and set both her hands over yours. “What has he done to you?” The woman sniffled and moved to press the back of her hand to your forehead, the standard mom move to check a kid’s temperature, before setting her hand on your cheek. Sarah was quiet for a moment before she slowly turned to look at Jake with tears in her eyes. “Bradley said you found her.”

Apparently Bradley had told everyone more information than he had let on. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded. “I’m glad it was you.” It was a strange thing to say, but Jake didn’t voice that opinion. Sarah knuckled at the corners of her watery eyes. “You know, I always wanted another child—it wouldn’t happen, but then she came barreling into our lives and she just fit, like she’d always meant to be mine. Always meant to be the third kid for me and Tom. She knew exactly how to help me when I needed it, knew what Tom needed without him needing to ask for it. Lord knows he’d never ask for anything.” She huffed, a wet laugh. “She might not have come out of me, but she is mine. She’s my girl. And she looked at you like you hung the moon, you know.” She smiled at him then. “I’ve never seen her look at anyone like that. And then you looked at her like she had done the same.”

Jake didn’t particularly know what he was supposed to do with that observation, but he found himself smiling. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding it as he had once hoped. And you had let your guard down enough in the home of the family you loved to be open enough to show how you felt. “Sometimes, I think she did.”

Sarah’s smile widened a fraction but still didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She deserves that. She’ll make you work for it though.”

“She’s already put me through my paces, I promise,” Jake said with a small smile of his own. “But she’s worth it.”

The older woman looked at him then, quiet and calculating, and Jake once again found himself fighting the urge to stand a little straighter in the presence of a Kazansky woman. She must have found something in his face because she gave a shallow nod before turning back to you. Her thumb swept over your knuckles. “Thank you for saving my girl.”

Both of them were quiet for a stretched moment, not needing to say anything else to each other. Sarah did stand when yet another doctor walked in and grabbed at your chart. “What can you tell me about her prognosis?”

The doctor, a man who looked like he’d been waiting for this exact question, nodded with a small smile as he folded his hands over the chart. “The fact that she needed little more than observation overnight is only good news. From what I understand from the surgeon, she is resilient. Once she wakes up, which should be shortly, she may be in a great deal of pain. It will only be temporary and I can assume that she will make a full recovery if she has the support she will need.”

“She’ll have it,” Jake said. You would have him no matter what you needed.

**

Coming back to yourself felt like swimming through tar, slow and strenuous. Even opening your eyes was a herculean effort and you immediately hated how bright the room was. It felt as if you’d tried to inhale an over-bleached towel and you tried to swallow any spit to help with the dryness but only ended up coughing. That was when your body decided to remind you that you had been stabbed twice. The pain stretched across your body like a whip of heat lashed out from your stomach. You bit back another cough and grimaced as it only made your throat ache. You looked to the side to see if there was a glass of water or something you could sip on and the room tilted for a moment.

“Fuck.” You hurriedly shut your eyes to keep your stomach from lurching. A section of the bed falling near your knees had you slowly opening one eye.

It was Jake.

Your Ken.

And he was sticking a bendy straw into a small cup of water before holding it near your mouth after pushing the button on the side of the bed to get you into a slightly elevated position, sitting instead of fully on your back. “Small sips, okay, Punch? Don’t overdo it.”

The water almost had you wincing as it filled your overly dry mouth but you still took a few more sips, breathing easier when your throat didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore. As you took a final sip, straw falling from your lips, you were still looking at Jake, feeling a little less like a human bobble head, but still a little strange.

He only stepped away from you for a moment to call for a nurse before returning to your side again. He didn’t say much, but his eyes were roving all over you, making you think he was trying to find something you were hiding. In your hazed mind, you wondered what you could possibly be hiding. Did you take his car keys?

The small bit of confusion continued as a nurse swept into the room and started to ask you a few questions you blearily answered and then had to sit still while a doctor looked you over, too, pressing lightly at your side and checking the weird tube and patch jutting out under your arm. By the time they finished and you were nodding along when they said they would be back to check on you again later in the day, you felt a little more settled in your skin.

Jake, who had stood near the window the entire time and hadn’t moved aside from nodding when the doctor or nurse told or asked him something, moved to stand at your side again. “How’re you feeling? What do you need?”

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

Jake’s smile was shaky and you could tell he was tired–you couldn’t miss the rumpled shirt and matching hair, nor the dark circles beneath his eyes. But he was still beautiful. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that, Punch.”

“I feel like I’ve been stabbed twice and then put in one of those spinners at the state fair.”

“Well, you look great, all things considered.” His fingers brushed your cheek and you leaned into it as best you could.

“You’re such a liar. I know I look like shit.”

“You’re beautiful, same as always. Just a little banged up.” And he said it so sincerely that you almost had tears in your eyes.

You hated that it took being stabbed twice for you to give yourself permission to really try to be happy again. Jake could make you happy, wanted to make you happy, would make you happy. You knew that even with the residual effects of the anesthesia and everything else falling on your shoulders.

You just had to let him.

“Do you still want to get that steak dinner with me?” You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

Jake smiled—fucking smiled—and moved to smooth a hand over your forehead before brushing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you cleared for solid foods first, okay?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes. But let’s make sure you can move without tearing a stitch.”

You smiled, ignoring how you felt one of your lips start to crack. “I’ll even let you pick me up.”

Jake’s sea glass eyes sparkled in the shitty fluorescent lights. He’d always been so pretty. “And you’ll let me pay? What about bringing you flowers, can that be negotiated?”

Just for a moment, you paused as thoughts raced through your mind. This was different. He wasn’t Luke and you weren’t scared of him. “Only if I get to take you out to ice cream afterward.”

“Oh, you’re already thinking you’ll make it to dessert?” He teased with a smirk you could feel pressing into your skin as he brushed another kiss against your forehead. “Presumptuous.”

“I have it on good authority that you may like me, even when I look like death.” You hoped your smile was convincing as he stepped back, warm hand still holding the side of your throat.

His thumb smoothed a gentle path across your pulse as his green eyes locked with yours. “You look like you beat death back with a stick.” He paused and you knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s a good look, you know. But I’d appreciate it if I never have to see you like this again.” His words held none of his usual bravado or confidence and your heart dropped when you noticed just how sad he looked. And not just sad. Scared.

You blindly reached up to grasp at his hand, curling your fingers over his thumb in an attempt to prove to him that you were okay–you could deal with the slight ache in your hands later. You just needed him to be okay, too. “It was a baseball bat, but I can promise you I have zero intention of trying to do it again.”

“Good.” He pulled in a slow breath and you felt him twist his hand in our grip so he could pull your joined hands up and he pressed a kiss to your fingers before holding your hand gently between both of his on the edge of your bed. It was like he couldn’t stop touching you and you reveled in it. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The simple sentence had your entire chest flooding with warmth. Feelings you had tried to ignore were pushing at the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t form the words. Not yet. Not even with Bradley’s words ringing like a bell at the back of your mind. “I’ll try to make sure you never have to find out.”

The look in Jake’s eyes had the warmth in your chest growing hotter. It was too knowing, too wanting, too…

His mouth opened and then shut again and Jake shook his head. He hooked a foot around the leg of the chair behind him and lowered himself into it as he kept a hold of your hand. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your face scrunch in confusion.

Jake licked at his lips and took a deep breath in. “They still haven’t found him.”

“What?” The single word cracked on your tongue as familiar claws of dread started to close around your heart. “What do you mean?”

“The cops lost him somewhere behind your neighbor’s house but-”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t tell me that.” One of the machines at your side started to beep and flash. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “Jake. Don’t tell me that. They-they have to ca-catch him! How-”

Jake moved to smooth his hands up your arms until he was gently grasping the back of your neck and he pushed his forehead against yours. “They’re out there, right now, looking for him. They’re not going to stop until they catch him. And he is not evergoing to touch you again. I won’t let that happen.”

“J-Jake.” His name broke in your throat and you hated that the tears you knew were forming in your eyes only brought you more pain and embarrassment. This had to be a nightmare. Had to be. There was no way you nearly died and Luke was still out there. “He…he…”

“Luke is not going to touch you ever again. I swear it.”

Tears blurred your vision despite the strength shading Jake’s words. “You don’t know that.”

“I do because I’m going to make sure he never touches you again. I don’t care if I have to put him in the ground, he’s not putting his hands on you again.”

The machines were still whirring, sounding your distress out into the room and letting it echo like a wraith in the sterile air. But Jake did not pull away, did not tell you that you needed to calm down or negate anything that you were feeling, but he held you through it until your breathing evened out again and you slumped further into your flat pillow but did not pull away from Jake. “I can’t do it again,” you whispered.

“You won’t have to.”

You blinked away the tears in your eyes and pushed Jake back just enough to look at him. The fear you saw in his face was gone now, replaced by a steely determination you only usually saw before climbing up into the cockpit of his jet. He was going to do anything for you–the thought was equal parts horrifying and comforting. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me either.”

“We are going to be fine. Both of us. And we’re going to go get that steak.” He reached up with his other hand to carefully cup your cheek and you remembered that he held you like this when he’d kissed you in your living room. It all seemed like ages ago now. And you wanted his words to be true, to know that you'd both be okay when this was finally finished. But something whispered at the back of your mind that you and Jake weren’t safe. Not yet. Not when Luke was still out there.

A knock at the door had you separating and looking to see a grim looking MP walking into the room. “There’s a detective here to speak with you,” he said, looking at you. “I can send him away if you’re not available.”

Jake looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Let him in. I should probably get this over with.”

The MP nodded and stepped out again before escorting a man in an ill-fitting suit into your room. “I’m Detective White, I just need to ask you a few questions.” He held out his hand but quickly retracted it when you reached out with your own bandaged one and then hurried to grab a small pad of paper from inside his jacket and tapped a pen on the top of it with a terse smile. “It won’t take long.”

Instead, Jake squeezed your hand with a small smile. “I’ll just be right outside.”

Would it be ridiculous for you to want him to stay? To say that you felt safer with him in the room? You could feel the detective’s eyes on you and you hated it. You hated how stupid you felt in that moment and how insecure and ridiculous. “Can he stay?”

“Miss-”

Jake immediately said your rank and last name, making sure to put enough emphasis on it that he knew that was the correct way to address you. It made you smile for a moment, knowing he meant it as a way to protect you. “I’d like him to stay.”

The detective’s eyes darted to Jake for a moment before he squeakily cleared his throat. Your name and rank soon followed and he tapped his pen on his pad of paper again. “That isn't standard procedure.”

“Look, I have two holes in me that shouldn’t be there. Jake held me together and kept me alive until I could get to the professionals. And I’d still like him to stay.”

Jake hid a smirk behind his hand before he sank into the chair by your bed.

“Okay, well,” the detective started as a ruddy blush blotched across his cheeks, “we can work with that.”

The interview took hours. You only stopped once to sip on some water and poke at the bland hospital food that was delivered and that was mostly at the behest of the bedraggled nurse who came in to check on you. And Jake did not move from his post at your side. When you had paused to catch your breath, embarrassed, angry tears biting at the back of your eyes, Jake always managed to keep you steady without even needing to say more than, “it’s okay, Punch, you got this.”

Detective White did actually shake your hand on his way out and you tried to ignore how his grip made you innately aware of the stitches in your palm. “We’ll get him, I swear it.”

You hoped he had more confidence in his police work than what you heard in his voice. He sounded unsure. When the detective left, you turned to Jake to see him frowning, yet again. “You feel as good as I do about that, huh?”

He sighed and shook his head. “They haven’t exactly proved to be reliable. Or competent.”

You laughed—it was worth the sharp ache in your stomach. You had to laugh otherwise you may cry again. “Well, I guess we will just have to wait and see.” What else could you do?

Another knock at the door pulled your attention and you were thankful for the distraction, even more so when you realized it was Rueben and Mickey now sticking their heads into the room. You quickly waved them in and let them shower you with movies and books they had brought to help you pass the time and you laughed when Mickey said you now had no excuse to not start watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The pilot and WSO were always kind and funny, but you could tell they had questions and you set the Blu-ray set aside before taking a deep breath. “You can ask. ‘s all right.”

You had always thought the bond between pilot and WSO was intrinsic and nearly magical, and you got to watch it in action when Reuben looked to Mickey and they were quiet for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you okay?” Reuben asked gently.

Your shoulders slumped. They were always so nice to you. “I’ve been told that I’ll be okay eventually. I just need to take it easy for a while.”

They asked if you needed anything in particular and didn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer and promised to bring you every unhealthy food they could think of once you were cleared for “real people food,” as they called it. Mickey’s watch beeped a few minutes later and he sighed. “Time’s up for us, Mav’s only given us an hour each.”

“Apparently he thinks that Cyclone would notice if we all just didn’t show up today.”

You had to smile at that. Captain Mitchell creating a timetable so all the Daggers could come visit without higher brass permission to skirt duty was probably the most on-brand thing you could think of him doing. It was a kindness, truly. Perhaps you should have confided in him—Tom had trusted him, Bradley, too. But maybe trusting people implicitly would take more time.

You said your goodbyes to Mickey and Rueben and Jake somehow got a blu-ray player delivered to your room and set it up quickly after belatedly pointing out the flowers Bob and Natasha had brought you—they were your favorites. You’d have to text them a thank you later.

“Look at you go, Ken. So handy. Next I’ll have you painting walls and tightening leaky faucets.”

A lazy wink was thrown over his shoulder in your direction. “Whatever you need, Punch. I’m pretty handy.”

You laughed and tried to ignore the stinging bite that came with it but you still set your hand over your stomach as if that would help disguise what you were feeling from his gaze. It didn’t work at all and Jake abandoned his task to hurry to your side. “I’m fine,” you said, pushing a smile to your face and hoped that would be enough for him to ignore how the heart rate monitor beeped erratically for a moment as you tried to breathe through the new wave of pain.

Jake shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m here to help you.”

You sighed. That would be another thing you would have to work through. “Sorry. I just…” Your words trailed off as Jake once again took your hand in his. He might be fond of touching you, but you knew you were fond of him touching you. He was always so gentle with you. “I just don’t want to cause a fuss.” Which you knew was stupid because you were in the hospital after being nearly murdered.

“You are worth the fuss.”

Was it pathetic to think of that as romantic? Maybe. But your heart still leapt as he looked at you but a familiar, self-satisfied smirk started to push at his mouth when your heart rate monitor betrayed you and let out a happy little beep-be-beep and there was no way you could talk your way out of it.

His smirk faded the slightest bit before he said, “I mean it. You’re worth the fuss. You’re worth a lot more than what you’ve been given.”

The fact that Jake wanted to be the one to prove it to you was even better. You just had to let him, you reminded yourself.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You and Jake retreated from each other (you mostly just pushed further into the pillow at your back) as Callie and Neil came in with balloons and another bouquet of flowers. They told you how the Daggers and other ADs were keeping it quiet about why you were currently in the hospital, but the Top Gun hopefuls did send along their well wishes that you supposed they mostly meant (except Royal, who you knew didn’t have a sincere bone in his body).

When they left, you got exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds into the first episode of Deep Space Nine before Billy, Logan, and Brigham came in with a teddy bear wearing a miniature version of their flight suits and your last name stitched over the heart. They also told you that there has been increased security stationed at every entrance to the base with extra protocols in place for entry.

Good. Luke probably wasn’t quite dumb enough to try anything on base, but knowing your friends would be safe on base was a comfort.

Javy was the next to visit, a small duffle bag in hand for Jake and wearing a suspiciously wiggly coat. He unzipped it with a wink and a familiar dog was carefully placed on your bed. “Sweet Pea!” You happily squealed at the sight of the tenacious Pekingese. She was quick to clamor up your legs to offer you a lick at your chin in greeting before immediately making herself comfortable in your lap. “You’re breaking so many rules right now,” you said, more traitorous tears stinging your eyes as you sank your fingers into Sweet Pea’s soft fur. You had watched Sweet Pea for Javy during his deployment a few months ago and had fallen head over heels for the dog immediately, even going so far to ask Javy for weekly updates, which he readily gave.

Javy waved it away and gave you a quick kiss on the temple. “You’re worth it, Punch. And she was missing you anyway.”

Jake nudged him with a halfhearted scowl but you hardly cared when your fingers sank into the dog’s fur again. You didn’t even mind when Sweat Pea started to gnaw on the teddy bear, she was your favorite and the bear was probably machine washable anyway.

Javy eventually left after a close call with a doctor who came in to administer another dose of pain medication and to check on your stitches. You and Jake eventually settled in enough to watch a few episodes after he changed into the fresh clothes Javy had brought him.

(“What is this show even about?”

“I have no idea.”)

After another gelatinous meal was presented to you and Jake only half heartedly tried to get you to eat it, you were handed a new set of pills by your doctor who told you that they would help stave off infection and probably make you a little sleepy, too.

“I do recommend you take them with food,” the doctor said after spying your uneaten lunch pushed off to the side.

Well, that certainly wasn’t going to happen but you said you would eat it before taking the pills just so he would leave the room.

“You’re not actually going to eat that, right?” Jake said in a low and disgusted voice as soon as he was sure the doctor was out of earshot.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. I’ll grab you a smoothie or something from the cafeteria downstairs. Do not take that without eating.” And then he was dashing away, startling one of the MPs at your door by the sound of it, too. When he returned, your favorite smoothie in hand, you had a hard time keeping the smile off your face even as the large pills stuck briefly in your throat. No one had really taken care of you like this. Not since you were a child, anyway. Red tape had kept you alone after Luke’s first two attempts on your life and you had to heal alone and in silence. This was new. Different. And for the umpteenth time, you realized that Jake wanted to do this for you. All of it.

You really needed to have a talk with him. A real talk. Unfortunately, it seemed the doctor’s warning that the medication would make you sleepy was an understatement. As soon as you finished your smoothie, you were already fighting to keep your eyes open. Jake took your empty cup from you and threw it away and you saw him starting to settle into his chair again, a wince already scrunching his features.

“You need to go home and get some sleep.”

Jake’s eyes cut to you with a frown. “I slept just fine here last night. And it is barely past lunch anyway.”

You sighed but the fondness clouding your lungs had it sounding a little forced and your limbs were sagging with the need for sleep. “Stubborn man. You have work tomorrow. I won’t have you falling asleep at the controls because of me.”

“I could just not go in,” he muttered like a child.

“Ken!” You chided, fighting a smile, lips twitching at the corners. “I’m not worth going AWOL.”

His face scrunched, as if he was insulted. “I already told you this: you’re worth a lot.”

God. He was infuriating and adorable. And usually only used one of those words when describing him. “I need you to go to work, all right? After getting a goodnight’s rest in a bed.” You watched him open his mouth and quickly added, “and no, I can’t just scoot over to make room for you in this one.”

Jake was quiet again, mulling over his options, before standing. “I can be back in time for dinner, or whatever slop they give you in a few hours, and-”

You raised a lethargic hand toward him and sighed when he laced your fingers together, letting his sentence go unfinished. “I need you rested, all right? I need you flying; that’s where I know you’re safe. Happy.” You yawned, the ache you’d been fighting settled into your bones, low but manageable. Damn, those pills were something else. And so were Jake’s eyes.

“I can be happy here, too.”

“Go home, sweet man. Visit tomorrow. Take a shower. Sleep.” You definitely were about to fall asleep. Everything felt so warm and loose, almost like you had one too many drinks to be tipsy.

“You saying I smell?” He asked with a laugh, but he still leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.

“Yes—like blood and hospital. But you’re still so pretty. Pretty Ken.”

He chuckled and you felt him stand rather than saw him as your eyes finally closed. “Yeah, my pretty darlin’. You win this round.” With another careful kiss to your temple and his thumb pressing at the edge of your chin, he was gone and you were out like a light.

The next afternoon, you woke up to the sun shining in through the window and Bradley setting a bag onto the chair beside your bed. When he noticed you were awake, a slow smile started to push across his mouth. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey,” you replied, the single syllable slow and syrupy with sleep.

He moved a little closer and you could see the circles beneath his eyes and his caramel waves were in a bit of a mess. But his service khakis were still neatly pressed—that was good. “You were asleep when I came in yesterday. Seresin said they gave you some pretty heavy duty stuff. How’re you feeling?”

That pain medication must’ve truly been something else because you mostly just felt uncomfortable rather than anything else. “I’m okay. Might be hungry though.”

Bradley’s smile widened a fraction and he opened the bag and pulled out a sandwich from the deli just off base that you frequented, usually with Bradley, and your cellphone which had almost 200 notifications. “I asked, like, four nurses if you were cleared for real people food and they said as long as you don’t overdo it, you should be fine.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you could overdo eating a sandwich, but you weren’t about to ask in fear of them taking the sandwich away and replacing it with the slop you managed to evade yesterday. It felt like heaven in your hands when Bradley (carefully) set it in your grasp. “Yeah sure,” you said, suddenly much more awake than you had been moments before.

But he also held out a bottle of water and shook it. “Water first. Sandwich later.”

“Then you should have led with the water,” you grumbled but you still drank it with careful sips after he glared at you after you sputtered over your first overzealous mouthful. He let out an exaggerated sigh when you pouted as he put your medication on the little table beside your bed and said you needed to take those, too. He really did bait and switch with the sandwich. A true big brother move that you begrudgingly accepted with a smile you tried to hide behind your water bottle.

(The sandwich in question was delicious and you didn’t even care that Bradley told you to slow down twice—you should have listened because you felt nauseous for a solid hour after polishing it off. Worth it.)

Bradley sat and watched an episode of Deep Space Nine with you before he told you that Sarah was planning on stopping by again today and that Bob and Natasha would probably try to swing by after being dismissed for the day, too. “Your sister is a very avid texter, by the way.” He pulled out his phone and showed you the fifteen texts he’d received from Georgie in the last two hours. They were all about you, obviously, and your stay in the hospital. Toward the end of her barrage of texts was a quick, also, Danny is wondering who this ‘hangman’ is. Might want to give both of them a heads up.

You almost laughed at that. After noticing your parents’ complete detachment from you, Danny had taken up the self-imposed role of ‘protective brother’ and had tried his best (either from a hospital bed or across state lines or both). It had always made you smile because he was more likely to throw a textbook at someone and then run away than to actually throw a punch. He was a good man. Gentle. A good brother to you. You knew he and Georgie would like Jake, even if they pretended not to for a solid five minutes.

“I’ll handle her. Promise. How was everyone yesterday and this morning?”

“Hangman was a little distracted.”

“Was he okay? Did he-”

“He’s fine,” Bradley said, fighting a smile. “But he did pull some stupid stunt when Royal was about to get tone on him.”

“Oh? It must have been something else if you’re calling it stupid,” you teased, earning a halfhearted glare in return. But this was good. Almost normal. Like you weren’t in a hospital and Bradley wasn’t taking a day of leave to stay at your side. Then you remembered… “Oh, Bradley, your date with Natasha! I ruined it! You were supposed to go to dinner, weren’t you? Natasha had a plan-”

Bradley’s hand settling over your arm quickly halted the rest of your rambling. “Please chill out.”

“Okay, but, what if I don’t?”

“They’ll probably have to sedate you,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “It is fine. Really. We rescheduled.”

“Easy as that?” You asked. Guilt still twisted your stomach. They had been in love with each other for years and had one date and then you had to get stabbed and ruin their second.

But Bradley nodded. “Easy as that. I took my time to get off my perch, I don’t mind waiting a little longer for a second date. We both would have just been worried about you anyway.”

You grimaced, guilt still gnawing at your bones. “I’m sorry anyway.”

“You did not purposely get stabbed so we couldn’t get a second date,” Bradley said, voice more serious than it had been just a moment ago. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. We have time. We made time.”

You moved to set your other hand over his with a sigh. “If you say so.” God, you hoped it was true.

It would be a long recovery, you knew that. But it seemed a little easier this time, even with the extra damage, because you had people that cared about you. You weren’t lonely and twiddling your thumbs alone in the hospital room, waiting to be released and being told to keep your mouth shut or to report to the brass as soon as you were discharged. This was different.

It was different when the Daggers still took turns visiting you and your fellow ADs did, too. Sarah stopped by as well, and made you video chat with Junior and Lily who both worried over you until you promised that you would be fine. They both offered to visit, or in Lily’s case she offered to smuggle you out of the hospital, but you declined and told them to both just focus on wedding planning or classes. “I’ll be fine!” You even winked for good measure.

Yeah. This time was different. Recovery wasn’t exactly a walk in the park and the tube coming out of your side was always annoying and bordering on itchy, but you got through it because you had people who cared about you. To your delight and dismay, Jake was the most frequent visitor to your stuffy hospital room. He brought food and books and seemed to be watching Deep Space Nine on his own because he was never lost when he sat down to watch an episode or two with you.

It was good and gentle and god you wished you could kiss him again. But it seemed he was trying to give your poor heart a break and rile you up at the same time. You had never been treated so…delicately before. Like you were something, someone precious. But god you wanted to kiss him. Even more so when he was the one to wheel you out of the hospital, complete with boyish car noises when he would speed around a corner. You weren’t even a little surprised when he drove you to the temporary housing on base instead of your house, only relieved. Bob and Natasha had been the one to tell you it was probably a good idea for you to not stay at your house for the time being and had set up your stay on base. You didn’t need a ton of convincing; you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to step foot into your little bungalow again without seeing Luke hiding in the shadows or your blood staining the floors.

The temporary housing was little more than a hotel room with a kitchenette, but you weren’t about to complain. Not when all of the Daggers and your fellow ADs were waiting inside with balloons and your favorite junk food to welcome you ‘home.’ Natasha and Bradley had brought all of your clothes and a few of your pictures, too, to help make it seem a little more like home. Over a glass of a virgin Bee’s Knees, whipped up by Penny who asked you if you were taking your medicine with a motherly look, you caught Jake’s eye across the small living room as he spoke with Callie. He smiled and raised his beer in your direction with a wink.

Oh, what an asshole. It should not be allowed for him to look like that and not want to kiss him senseless. Or have him kiss you senseless. Either way, someone should be getting kissed senseless. But he had been almost resolute in not kissing you. A small voice at the back of your mind whispered that maybe all of this, the stalking, the blood, the stress, the hospital stay, had all been too much for him. That you had been too much for him.

But he had been sweet. He kissed your cheeks, your temples, the tip of your nose. He held your hand and made you smile and laugh when you needed it most. He wanted to be near you. Didn’t he? You hoped so. He never seemed to care when you called in the middle of the night with another nightmare filled with Luke and hidden knives, making the drive across base to sit with you in the low light of your temporary living room, sipping on hot chocolate and watching Golden Girls reruns in silence until you fell asleep again. “If you call, I’ll come,” he had said. And he did. Every time. Didn’t make it any less confusing though.

It was entirely unsurprising to be put onto desk duty when you were finally able to report back to base two days later. Admiral Bates was kind and popped his head into your office every other hour to make sure you were comfortable. “You can leave at any time, if needed. Please take it easy.” Admiral Simpson also seemed to be doing the most to not even give you paperwork to do. They were being kind but you were so bored. It didn’t feel like you worked if you didn’t have oil soaked into your skin by lunch. The other ADs kept you up to date on what each of the jets needed every day so you could jump right back in when you were cleared for it.

You actually volunteered to take on the extra paperwork from the other ADs so you could still feel like you were contributing a few days into your new duties. It sometimes had you staying later than everyone else but you slowly started to enjoy the quiet of your office when almost everyone had gone home, especially on Fridays before the start of the weekend.

Almost everyone.

A knock at your door had you looking up to see Jake leaning against the frame and you hated how your heart leapt at the sight of him…and how the sleeve of his service khakis strained against the bulk of his arm. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey stranger,” you replied, setting your pen down. With the outgoing of the Top Gun graduates and the incoming of a new class, Jake had been busy alongside most of the Daggers. There were rumblings of a deployment, too, so you tried not to take his absence personally. If you had been out in the hangar or on the flight line, you would have seen more of him. Also, a lot of your free time was filled with check ups with your doctor and your new therapist. Both seemed to be hopeful for you. Your writing was going well, too, if you did say so yourself. Both Natasha and Bradley were still buzzing in that new relationship glow and you were so happy for them to finally be together—you even made sure to have them do the necessary paperwork as soon as possible so nothing would take them off guard. Detective White and the rest of the cops on your case were apparently following leads about Luke’s whereabouts but didn’t have much more to say other than, “when we know something, we will let you know.” You tried not to dwell on it, focusing on what made you happy. And you hardly left base anyway.

“I’ve got a question for you.” He walked into your office with a smirk playing on his mouth and an arm tucked behind his back.

“I’ve got an answer.”

When he reached the edge of your desk, he pulled an almost comically large bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. It was a beautiful mix of sunflowers, peonies, and tulips and you took them carefully as you stood, your heart in your throat. “These are for you.”

“They’re gorgeous, but that is not a question, you know. Questions are meant to gain an answer, or elicit information from another party-”

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes. “Busting my balls after I give you flowers? I should have expected that.”

You laughed and brushed your fingers against the buttery petals, delighting in the soft aroma of the bouquet. “Probably.”

“But my question was,” he started, pausing either for dramatic effect or just to rile you up. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

The smile that split your face almost hurt and you attempted to hide it behind the flowers for a moment before Jake hooked a finger in the wrapping and slowly pulled it down with a smile of his own. “You sure did take your time asking.”

Jake’s smile grew. “Technically, you asked back at the hospital, but since you never followed up on it, I figured I could be the bigger person and ask you.”

Your mouth opened then closed again as an embarrassed heat started to inch its way up your throat. “That…is not fair. You technically asked back at my house.”

“And I’m asking again.”

God, he was something else and you couldn’t help but let the growing smile split your face as you nodded. “Then yes, I am saying yes again.” What else could you possibly say?

“Perfect. Phoenix has a dress and shoes waiting for you in our locker room and I will meet you back out here in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Oh, you thought of everything, huh?” You asked with a shake of your head.

“I had some time. But you don’t—our reservation only has a five minute window.”

You grumbled good-naturedly to try to keep the butterflies you felt rioting in your stomach at bay. “Fine. I’ll be back.” And if your steps to the locker room were a little hurried, he thankfully didn’t mention it. The dress Natasha picked out for you was perfect, midi length with a slit up the thigh with a floral print—she must have found it at the back of your closet. The shoes were sensible but cute, found in a box you had kept at the back of your closet, too. Damn, she knew you so well. There was a sticky note on the dress’ hanger: Have fun! But not too much! Your makeup bag was on the shelf above and you hurriedly touched everything up before meeting Jake out in the hallway with your heart thrumming a happy beat behind your ribs. He had changed, too, into a smartly tailored pair of black trousers and a button up shirt of the same shade tucked in. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was.

Another smile broke across his face as he looked you over and you felt like one of your heroines when he reached out for you. “You look beautiful.”

As promised, he drove you to the ritzy restaurant and you delighted in the weight of his hand on your thigh the entire time as your flowers were safely kept in a vase in the backseat. It wasn’t until you pulled into the filled parking lot that you realized that you hadn’t looked out the window once in search of a black charger.

You felt safe.

He held the door open for you and tucked your chair into the table. It really was like a dream, even when the waitress flirted with Jake. Why? Because he simply reached across the table to curl his hand over yours as you fiddled with your silverware roll.

Gentle. He was being gentle and choosing you.

The conversation was quiet and easy as you ordered and you tried not to laugh when your original waitress was nowhere to be found.

“There’s this Italian place a little up the coast. We should try that next.”

While you enjoyed this peaceful bubble, you couldn’t resist poking at him like you always did. You cocked an eyebrow as you cut into your perfectly done steak. It almost melted in your mouth as you saw Jake glance at you as he cut into his own. “Oh, I was presumptuous by thinking we should get ice cream after this but you’re already planning the next date?”

His fork froze just in front of his mouth and you watched his eyes go wide for a moment. “I…”

“Relax. I’m always game for pasta.”

Jake’s answering smile split his face and couldn’t hide the tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Good. That’s good.”

As promised (after bickering over who got to pay for dinner), you had Jake pull over into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop on the way back to base and you each ordered their version of snickers ice cream. You both happily ate it as it tried to melt down to your fingers when you watched the moon’s reflection over the ocean after Jake found an overlook a few minutes down the road. As you licked the remnants of the treat from your lips, Jake hopped out of the truck and you watched him jog over to your side and pull open the door. He reached over you for a moment, letting his expensive cologne flood your senses again, and turned up the radio. Some old country song—yes, you would make fun of him for this later—filled the truck but you still put your hand in Jake’s when he held out a hand for you to take.

“Dance with me?”

The singer crooned about love and the moon and you laughed as Jake spun you under his arm. This could have been a scene from one of your books, you could scurry home after this, write it all down, and sell a million copies of your next book just because of this scene. But you knew you wanted to keep this just for yourself. This was just for you and Jake. You’d never feel like this before; happy, desired, fulfilled but hopeful for more. Hopeful for more with Jake.

Just for a few beats of the song, you wished you hadn’t waited so long. Hadn’t tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length. Hadn’t let Luke win for so long.

One song turned into two, turned into three and you only separated because a car drove by and honked obnoxiously. You laughed and pushed your face into Jake’s chest for a moment, listening to the rumble of his own chuckle. When your giggles subsided, you tilted your head to smile at him, probably looking like a loon but you hardly cared when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

He leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t move. His lips pressed against yours gently before you surged forward, making it abundantly clear that you were not going anywhere. His warm hands held you firm as they slid up your arms to frame your face. There was no resistance when he licked at the seam of your lips, and you didn’t even care about the happy sigh you let out, hands scrunching into his soft shirt. He tasted like ice cream and that damned minted toothpick and you couldn’t get enough, pressing closer closer closer to let him keep kissing you in any way he wanted.

It wasn’t until your lungs protested that you broke away, chest heaving with the need for air. Jake stole another quick kiss anyway, letting you feel his smile against your mouth. “Let me get you home, darlin’.”

You nodded with a smile you hoped wasn’t too wide and let him buckle you in after he opened the truck door for you again. The smile, however, couldn’t be contained when his hand once again found a home on your thigh. When he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the stretch of temporary housing buildings, you let out a laugh when Jake all but bolted out of his seat to run around to your side of the truck and open your door, your flowers in hand. You slipped your hand into the crook of his offered arm and let him walk you toward your door.

“I had a great time tonight,” you murmured as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The dim light from the nearest streetlight cast him in a buttery light and almost made him look like some sort of old Hollywood leading man—you’d never tell him that. His ego was big enough.

“I did, too.” The warmth in his tone matched the soft look he sent you as you stepped up to your door.

You could have asked about the Italian restaurant he had mentioned earlier or bargained with him that you get to pay for dinner next time and he could pay for dessert as a reversal of what happened tonight, but instead, you listened to the butterflies in your stomach and asked, “would you like to come inside?”

Jake paused for a moment before nodding, almost hesitant.

You unlocked the door and waved him in, watching as he set your flowers on the small table beside the door. After setting your purse on the couch, you turned to face Jake and tried to resist the urge to wipe your slightly sweaty palms on your dress as you kicked off your shoes. Maybe you had misread everything. Or maybe he was still trying to “treat you right,” by his standards and take things slow. You wanted to respect what he wanted. “You don’t have to stay, Ken.” But god, you wanted him to.

Jake huffed before shaking his head. “You gotta know that I don’t want to leave, Punch. But I don’t want to hurt you. I would never-”

“I’m okay,” you let out in a rush. “I promise.” The smile you tried to keep from your face pushed its way free anyway as you shuffled a little closer to him.

“And I want to keep you that way.” Jake shook his head and you almost shivered when he let his fingers trail down your arms before dropping back to his sides, like he just needed to touch you. “Trust me, there’s nothing more I’d like than to keep this date going, but I would not be able to live with myself if I set you back in your recovery because I did something.” The slightest bit of pink dusted his cheeks as he said that, too.

It was so sweet. So adorably kind that all you could do was smile. “I’m not in danger of dying right now, Ken.”

“That’s not funny.”

You sighed and reached out to grasp his hands, pulling at them until they were pressing at your hips. “I’m here. Upright and mobile. I’m okay.”

“Your doctor said-”

“That I was cleared yesterday,” you said with a growing smile. That appointment had been a bright spot of your week for several reasons.

There was a slight pause before his hands tightened on your hips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Ken.”

You felt his fingers drum against the low of your back before he leaned closer. “So, for twenty four hours, this entire date, I’ve been trying to be a gentleman and you-”

“Oh, just kiss me.”

And he did. His kiss immediately dominated all of your senses, hot, heavy, and hard. Your back hit the wall beside the door and you could feel Jake’s smile again as you giggled against his mouth. This was perfect.

The smile faded as Jake’s mouth slid down the side of your neck, no doubt feeling your thrumming pulse, and a breathy moan slipped from between your lips.

“I’ve hardly touched you,” Jake said, words vibrating against your heated skin as you let your hands grasp at his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself to something. “You already singin’ for me?”

Your laugh was just as embarrassingly breathy, too. “Can’t help it.” You really couldn’t. Every nerve ending was starting to spark and burn delightfully, your mind already hazing. He kissed you again and his grip tightened on your waist before trailing up your sides.

He pulled back just enough to breathe against your lips. “You want this?”

The question cleared your mind for a moment but only served to send a bolt of soft warmth straight through you. “I do. I want you, I want this,” you whispered in return.

You could feel his answering smile before he kissed you again, harder and bordering on desperate.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

Jake pawed at the top of your dress until your breasts were spilling out, nipples instantly hardening against the air conditioned chill of your room. “Fucking beautiful,” Jake muttered before diving down to press a searing kiss right over the swell of your heart. His large hands yanked the rest of your dress down just enough for him to grab at your chest, squeezing your breasts together as he lathed attention on one and then the other and then back again. Kisses turned into licks, turned into the lightest scrapes of his teeth that had your breath stuttering and knees shaking.

“Jake…” Your voice was little more than a moan, torn from your throat.

Big sea glass green eyes peered up at you, nearing sparkling in the low light of the room, as he continued to bite and suck and kiss at the exposed skin. But then, as if knowing you were already too far gone for words, his lips closed around a nipple and tugged, pulling a keening whimper from you as your hands wove through his short blond hair, drawing him closer. The heat of him, of his talented mouth, was all consuming. You couldn’t control the tightening in your lower stomach, nor the whimpers that left your kiss-bitten lips as he switched to the other side.

“So perfect,” he said, words muffled as he burrowed his nose into your sternum. “Perfect for me.” He glanced up and your heart stuttered at the heat in his gaze. The green of his eyes was nearly entirely gone, eaten by the black of his pupil.

Your grip on his hair tightened the slightest bit, dragging him up again to press an open mouthed kiss against his wanting lips. “Take me to bed,” you panted.

It was a blessedly short trip to the bed on the other side of the room and as soon the backs of your knees hit the soft bedding his hands skimmed up your sides, dragging your dress with it. His lips followed, lathing heat against your skin and up your sternum. Then he slowly, carefully pulled the offending fabric off, taking care to not jerk your arms up too high or too quickly. But his attention was soon back on your skin, pressing his mouth against the swell of your breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, words muffled against your heated skin. He could probably feel your heart beating a mile a minute beneath your ribs. But you knew he did when he took a moment to press kisses to the raised scars that now littered your torso.

It was almost too much for you and you pulled him up and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before shoving it off his shoulders and then did the same to the button on his trousers and shoved them down before grabbing handfuls of his unfairly toned thighs and squeezing. You didn’t let go when he had to step out of his shoes and shoved his trousers off the rest of the way. God, he was warm everywhere. “You’re pretty,” you murmured against his neck, letting his expensive cologne and heat keep your mind buzzing.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You had to laugh but it quickly faded when Jake’s roughened hands slid down the expanse of your thighs, and his mouth followed, sliding along the soft skin on your right leg and then the left, making sure to press a hard kiss to the scars there, too. The simple touch had you quaking beneath his grasp. “It’s only fair, darlin’. You know how much I love these legs of yours.”

“Y-you’re ridiculous!”

“Maybe, but you’re still beautiful.” His thick fingers slipped under the lace edges of your underwear and quickly pulled them down and you just as readily kicked them away. A hot kiss was pressed to your right hip and then your left before he gently shoved you back onto the bed, your legs falling open. Wider shoulders had your legs spreading further as he shoved his way between them and he licked a bold strip through your folds and nearly had you wailing. “And you taste so good, too.” Again and again Jake licked and sucked and nibbled until the heat that had started burning with the first brush of his lips overwhelmed you and stars burst behind your eyes.

When you came down, your thighs were wrapped around Jake’s head and shaking but he didn’t seem to care as he pressed a slick kiss to each of your thighs before carefully helping you set your legs back down before helping you lay further back across the bed. “Yeah, still beautiful.”

With aftershocks still shaking your fingers, you pulled him up again, tasting yourself on his tongue when it slipped between your lips. “Still want you,” you murmured, unabashed.

“You’ll get me. You’ve got me.” Jake curled his body over yours as he took your mouth again. You greedily shoved at his boxer briefs and let out a sigh when you felt the length of him press against the meat of your inner thigh. “Condom?” He asked.

“Got a clear bill of health and just renewed my birth control prescr-” The rest of your explanation was cut short when he kissed you again and you felt him press at your entrance. The first push knocked the wind right out of your lungs. “O-oh!”

“God, you’re so warm.” His words were pulled taut and his knuckles were nearly white as they pressed into the blanket beneath you.

You pawed at his shoulders as he sunk further, further, further. God, he was so deep. “J-Jake!”

“Almost there, darlin’, you’re taking me so well.”

When his hips finally touched yours, each breath was ragged and short as you tried to breathe through the burn that came with his size. He was so deep. Jake pressed gentle kisses across your jaw, murmuring to take all the time you needed but you saw his arms shaking on either side of your head.

“Move,” you said.

“You sur-”

“Move!” You laughed, but it was quickly taken over by a broken moan with Jake’s first thrust. Every drag and pull of him had new sparks sizzling up your spine until you were nothing more than a heap of shaking limbs and heated skin. “Jake, please!” It was all you could say. What you were pleading for, you wouldn’t be able to articulate, but it didn’t matter because Jake seemed to know as his thrusts grew more forceful, pushing you further up the bed and dragging a hand down your leg to squeeze at the dough of your thigh and having it tighten around his hip so he could reach further into you. “Jake!”

“Give it to me, darlin’. C’mon. I know you can.” His whispered words were scalding against your ear and you let out a wail as he hit something deep inside you again again again again. The feeling only grew when his hands swept beneath you on the bed and hauled your hips higher as he drove into you. “Is that it? That where you need me?”

All you could do was moan and hang on as he continued to hit that spot you had never known existed. Your legs lifted, too, wrapping around his waist and that seemed to be the right thing to do as Jake slid one hand down to grab at one, widening you up to his thrusts—and with just a handful more snaps of his hips, you broke into a million little pieces of stardust.

**

With just a few more thrusts, Jake met his own end, shuddering above you. And you were glorious, beautiful, sated. He had never seen anyone look so wonderfully undone as you. Jake pushed up onto his knees and could only smile down at you before stealing a kiss against your mouth and then another and another until he got what he wanted: a soft laugh, breathy and satisfied, if he did say so himself. The simple sound had his already thundering heart leaping. Then you reached up and pushed a few errant strands of hair away from his forehead. The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back—he wanted to tell you with flowers and something sweet, not when you could think he was just caught up in the endorphin rush.

“You’re impossible, you know,” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought.

“What?”

“You’re still so pretty after all that? Impossible.” You punctuated it with a soft tug at his hair before your hand swept to his cheek and your thumb smoothed an easy path on the half moon beneath his eye.

God. He could look at you forever. “If I’m pretty, then you’re-”

Your fingers pressed over his lips as you halfheartedly rolled your eyes. “You already got me in bed, Ken. Don’t need to butter me up.”

Jake kissed your fingers before pulling your hand away from his mouth and leaning down to steal another kiss. “I think you should be told how beautiful you are every day.”

Jake felt you freeze for a moment, rigid under his grip. “Sounds exhausting.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” He could have said it then, too. Almost did. Instead, he carefully pulled out and smirked at your moan with the movement. Jake swept a hand down your sternum to your belly before rolling off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He quickly found a washcloth and ran it under some hot water and wrung it out before walking back out.

God, you were beautiful. Still trying to catch your breath on the rumpled blankets (and if Jake felt a little zing of pride and seeing you so debauched, so be it), Jake slid next to you and carefully cleaned up the mess he’d made of you. He couldn’t stop touching you. Didn’t ever want to stop, but he did eventually pull away to drag his underwear back on and brushed his lips against your palm as you reached for him, curling your fingers around his cheek. But even with you still on his tongue and your body heart bleeding over him, he felt the first tendrils of doubt start to creep up the back of his mind.

Did you want him to stay? Did you regret it? Did-

“Will you stay?” You asked, voice much quieter than you had been all night. It reminded him of when you were surprised he had wanted to go to Junior’s engagement party. Maybe you were nervous, too.

“Of course I’ll stay, Punch.”

Your answering smile was near blinding and you wiggled around on the bed just enough to pull the blankets down to invite him under the sheets beside you—wow, you both really just fell onto the bed, absolutely no patience. After you washed up in the bathroom and turned off the rest of the lights, you slipped beneath the sheets too, eyes bright in the moonlight streaming from the small window.

He could look at you forever. He just had to tell you that. Some day.

**

Things were good and fun and wonderful. Jake took you to that Italian restaurant and then you danced in your little living room. You went out to the movies and laughed behind your bucket of popcorn when the horror movie victims lived up to their cliches. Jake would press smiling kisses to your mouth in good morning in the shadows of the hangar. But he was also fond of swallowing every sound you made while driving deep and holding you close and you got to find out what it felt like to have the weight of him on your tongue.

Yeah, things were good.

Things were good even when Detective White called to tell you that Luke might have been spotted back on the East Coast—at least he wasn’t still lurking somewhere in the shadows of San Diego, waiting for you. It was good because you only had about a week left on desk duty and Bradley and Natasha were still annoyingly in love and Bob had agreed to (eventually) meet the woman Jake said was “perfect” for him. Georgie had given birth to a healthy, happy baby boy and you had plans to visit in a few weeks’ time with Danny.

You may have still had those words waiting on your tongue, unspoken and waiting, but you knew they were going to spill out sooner or later, especially when Jake kissed you so sweetly. Everything was strangely easy with him and you knew it was a little too early to think of the future when it was so soon into whatever this was with Jake, but maybe it really could be this easy. There were short tiffs, of course, but it was good.

Things were good.

“Hey, darlin’. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

You looked up from the paperwork on your desk to see Jake standing in the door of your office. A joke was on the tip of your tongue when you spied the envelope in his hands. You knew what that envelope meant. You knew that look in his eyes. “How long?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Oh.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and set down your pen with unsteady fingers. “You leave next week, don’t you?” You already knew the answer—Admiral Simpson had been heard talking about it yesterday.

Jake set the envelope down as he rounded your desk and pulled you up and close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a slow kiss to your lips before standing straight again as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t want-”

“You and I both know that the Navy doesn’t care what we want, Ken. You have to go. And I’m going to be waiting for you when you come back.” You tried to smile but you knew it looked more like a grimace. So, you tried a different tactic. “It’ll fly by.”

Jake pulled his lips into his mouth for a moment before sighing but you could tell he wanted to laugh. “That was a terrible pun.”

“I think you like me anyway.”

Jake smiled then, all softness and sweet. “Yeah, I think I’ll keep you around.” He pulled you close again and had you giggling the moment his lips touched your neck.

“You went on plenty of deployments before me and there will be deployments after-”

“Don’t say ‘after you,” Jake grumbled. “I don’t want there to be an after you.”

The words had your heart leaping. “I wasn’t going to say ‘after me,’ Ken. I was saying that after I’m cleared, you’ll have a few more with me. Okay? It is just this one.”

A small bright spot was knowing Javy, Callie, and Neil were also going with him. You and Jake tried to make the most of the week you had left before his deployment. There were quiet dinners in your small room and falling asleep in your bed as reruns of old sitcoms played on the television. There were quickies, too, of course, that always left your legs shaking and his come running down your thighs. But you still weren’t entirely sure what you were with Jake. He obviously wasn’t picking up women at the Hard Deck and spent most of his nights with you, slotting into place like he’d always meant to be there. But neither one of you had put a label on it. But you remembered Bradley’s scolding. You remembered that Jake himself had said that he knew you felt the way about him the same way he felt about you.

You tried and failed not to think about it too much as you walked with Jake through the muted crowds on the dock near the carrier. Dawn had just started to break on the horizon and your fingers brushed against Jake’s for the fifth time as you neared the ramp onto the hulking mass of steel. You only broke away to hug the others and wish them luck and safety before coming back to Jake’s side. There were too many eyes out here. Your relationship—no matter how undefined it was—was still unapproved and discouraged by Naval Regulation. There could be consequences if you kissed him goodbye now.

But you wanted to.

“You stay safe, okay?” You murmured as you turned to him.

“I’ll try my best, darlin’,” he said in return, grip tightening on his bag for a moment before letting loose again. Like he was fighting the urge to touch you, too.

The most you allowed yourself to do was hug him like you did the others while you blinked back the tears stinging your eyes. You should say it now. Say it. Say it. Say it. But wouldn’t that be cruel, to say it now when you couldn’t do more?

As you pulled back, it looked like Jake wanted to say something—his mouth opened and—

The carrier’s horn blasted and halted anything he might have said. You watched him shake his head before his hand fell to your shoulder. Only the careful swipe of his thumb against your pulse separated the touch from anything platonic. “I’ll be seeing you, Punch.” And then he was turning and walking away, a tightness in his shoulders you hadn’t seen since the hospital.

Something inside you cracked at the sight of it, growing larger with each step he took away from you. Every deployment could be dangerous. Hell, every time he got into the cockpit was dangerous. You could lose him.

And he wouldn’t…

“Jake!” You called out, his name bursting out from between your lips.

He turned back to you, brows pinching.

This was it. You didn’t want to hide. You would handle the consequences, no matter what they were. You needed to tell him. You pushed through the crowd and Jake dropped his bag at his feet and he reached for you just as you reached for him.

Your hands slid over his broad shoulders and up to cradle the back of his head as he curled his arms around your waist and hauled you close. You kissed him. You kissed him and didn’t care who saw as you felt him press at the seam of your lips and happily let him lead you through the unhurried but all consuming embrace; he had wanted this, too.

“Come back to me, okay?” You whispered against his mouth as you broke away, chest heaving. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said, voice strong despite the desperate look in his eyes. “I’m coming back to you. No matter what.”

“I love you, you know that?” There, you’d said it. For better or worse.

Jake’s smile started slow but soon lit up his entire face and he kissed you, pressing his lips to yours so intensely that you thought he might be trying to sear the touch into your marrow. “I love you, too. I have for a long time, I think.” And then he kissed you again and didn’t step back until the carrier let out another horn blast. “I’ve got to go but I will be back. I’ve gotta come back to my girl.”

You could only nod as he slowly walked backward toward the carrier, trying to keep you in his sight for as long as possible and taking your heart with him.

**

Jake hadn’t been expecting to be called into the Admiral’s temporary office before he had even put his duffel on his tiny bedroll, but here he was, standing in front of Admiral Simpson, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t what he was thinking it was.

You loved him. You loved him and he didn’t want to have it ruined by something as stupid as regulation.

Cyclone crossed his arms over his chest before sighing. “I should have you formally reprimanded and have her moved to a different squadron, if not an entirely different shore station. You and I both know that, Lieutenant Commander.” He was quiet and Jake felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. “But I made Kazansky a promise. I promised to keep that young woman safe whenever she stepped foot on base. She is a remarkable AD and has proven herself to be an irreplaceable part of this team. The Daggers are better with her, and she is better with the Squadron.” He was quiet again and Jake tried not to feel too hopeful as the man continued. “I will require the necessary paperwork on my desk by 0700 the day after we are back stateside so I can pretend that you two went about this correctly and I won’t have someone with more stars on their collar trying to rip this squadron apart. Am I understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Jake didn’t even care that he was supposed to be on shore leave for two weeks after every deployment. He would get that paperwork to Cyclone an hour after docking if he had said so. Jake would happily do a thousand pushups before dinner and be grounded for a month if it meant that you didn’t have to hide, that you wouldn’t be separated because of protocol or paperwork.

Cyclone nodded. Just once. “Good. Dismissed.” If Jake sprinted out of Cyclone’s office, neither of them mentioned it. But the Lieutenant whom Jake would be sharing a bunk with definitely asked why he was smiling like a mad man when they finally crossed paths.

Jake didn’t care.

Come hell or high water, he was going back to you.

**

If Bradley asked if you were okay one more time, you were going to steal his lunch.

“I just worry about you!”

“Get away from me, Bradshaw. I swear to god-!” The rest of your rant was cut off by sweet Bob pulling you into a different classroom and handing you a water bottle.

“Drink this.”

You did as you were told and by the time the bottle was empty, you felt marginally less prone to lunch thievery. When you handed the bottle back to him, Bob sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately and it had only been a week since Jake and the others had gone. “I’m bad at this, aren’t I?”

(The rest of the Daggers had been given a hard launch of you and Jake being together after Callie posted a photo to the group chat—it was supposed to be of her and Neil before they got on the carrier but you and Jake were clearly seen in the background kissing.

Not your finest moment but everyone seemed to be happy for you both and Admiral Bates chuckled after calling you into his office to tell you to fill out the required paperwork—how he found out was anyone’s guess but you were thankful that he was fine with it all. While the stack of red tape was a bit of a slog to get through, you finished it as quickly as you could despite being told that you’d have to wait to formally file it until Jake completed his, too. The stack of paper was kept safely in the bottom locked drawer of your desk, just waiting for Jake.)

“I’ve been told it gets easier,” Bob said with a small smile. “It’s only been a week, Punch. Give yourself time.”

You sighed and leaned just enough to press your forehead against his shoulder. Maybe tensions were high (with you in particular) because today was supposed to be your first day back in the hangar and…it rained so everyone was grounded until the weather cleared. “I mean, whenever you guys would get sent out I would worry, but this feels different. Is that stupid? Or am I just losing it?”

Bob sighed and you felt his hands start to press careful, patient lines up and down your back. “Not stupid and not losing it. But I think ‘s different when you care about the person leaving.”

“I care about you,” you muttered into his shirt.

“Not the same way and you know it.” His hands continued their careful touches and you relaxed a little more. God, whoever earned Bob’s love was going to be so lucky. “If I was a betting man, I would say Seresin is probably feeling the same way except he’s stuck in a tiny metal room.”

You laughed and a tiny bit of tension slipped from your shoulders. “Thank you, Robby. I promise to not throttle Bradley or steal his lunch.”

And now it was Bob’s turn to laugh. “Reasonable.”

The rest of the day didn’t exactly crawl by but you were still thankful to walk out to the parking lot by the end of the day, even if you knew you were still only going across base to watch more Golden Girls with a frozen meal. You’d get through this.

You knew it.

Just as you pulled into your usual spot outside your temporary home, your phone rang. Detective White’s name flashed across the screen and you sighed, bracing for no new news, before answering.

“Have you been to your house today?” He asked instead of a greeting.

“What?”

“We need you to come here, take a look at things.”

You were struck silent, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. “I…” What were you even supposed to say to that? “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The drive to your little bungalow was done in a haze, you didn’t even remember turning down your street or pulling into the driveway. Three patrol cars and a beat up Cadillac were parked along the curb, too. Two uniformed cops were waiting by your front door and checked your ID when you asked for Detective White before waving you inside.

Just for a moment, it did actually feel like coming home. This had been your home for almost two years and…

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”

The cruel echo of Luke’s voice had you flinching before the faded scent of bleach did. Your next breath stuttered in your throat as you glanced toward the bookcases and the floor beneath them. You had nearly died here. Nearly bled out in your home. It looked like all of your books had been placed in boxes, stacked at the mouth of the hallway.

You hardly saw any of it as your eyes were drawn to the broken glass that littered your kitchen floor and then the terrible deep, dark red paint splattered on the wall above your television.

COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE

“Good, you’re here.”

You jumped at the sound of Detective White’s voice and turned to face him with an unsteady smile. “I’m assuming you called to tell me about this?” You asked, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the crude paint job.

Detective White nodded. “Yeah.”

“I thought you said Luke was on the East Coast?” Keeping the angry disbelief out of your voice was a Herculean task—one that you failed, spectacularly, if the detective’s flinch was any indication.

He tapped his pen against his stupid pad of paper. “We had a tip that he was.”

“But nothing concrete? Have you stopped the search for him around here?”

“No, we still have the tip line open here, too.”

“Tip line,” you bit out. “But no one is looking? You’re just hoping that someone will spot him and you’ll be able to catch him this time?” Dragging a hand over your mouth, you tried to suck in a steadying breath that only marginally worked.

“We follow up on each one,” he said as if that would help.

“Sure. Of course you do. Is there a reason you needed me to come here?”

He then went on a spiel about you needing to look around to see if anything was missing or broken because there had been a series of break ins in the neighborhood and they just wanted to make sure that this was connected either to Luke or to the low level thieves before proceeding.

It took you about three and a half minutes to realize nothing was missing other than one of the knives from the block but you had a hunch that it was probably in an evidence bag, if the cops had found it at all. Your anger at the cops swiftly disintegrated into fear when you realized that it meant Luke was now back in the city. Or he had never left. Neither was a great option and you told Detective White what you thought and only earned another tap of his pen against his stupid fucking notebook.

You seethed as you stomped to your car and tried to pull in a soothing breath when you buckled yourself in. It didn’t work. But fine. You just needed to get back to base and slip beneath your room’s mostly soft blankets and pretend this didn’t happen for at least a few hours. Sure. You could do that.

But, just as you pulled onto the highway, your low gas light clicked on. Perfect, just perfect. There was a gas station just off the next off-ramp so you took it, hoping for a quick stop. But, of course, when you pulled up to the pump, there was a sticker over the card reader, stating that you’d have to pay inside. With a sigh, you locked your car and started toward the gas station. You made it two steps before coming to an abrupt stop when a bright red car screeched around you and came to a stop at the pump just beside your car. Whatever. Not your problem.

You heard the other car’s door open and close and then…

“Hi, baby.”

There was no way he was here. No way. No. Every hair stood on end and it took you a stretched moment to even muster the courage to turn to face him.

“Luke…” His name cracked in your throat as your heart hammered against your ribs. It only increased when you caught a flash of something in his hand, shining and terrible.

A gun.

You took a step back and then another and another as your eyes bounced around the parking lot, looking for someone, anyone to help you. And you saw no one, nothing except other empty cars.

“Don’t do this.”

Luke smiled, all teeth. “I’m having fun with it now, baby. I wonder how many times I can shoot you before you actually die? Maybe I should have gutted you, you know, see what you’re hiding inside you that keeps your heart beating.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that he was drunk, every few syllables slurred and messy. Your next step nearly had you toppling over as your heel collided with the curb. Pain lanced up your palm as you blindly thrust your arm out to keep yourself upright by grabbing the concrete pillar. Luke took a step forward and raised the gun-

The lights of a car coming into the gas station pulled his attention for just a moment and you made the split second decision to dash into the gas station when his head was turned. You nearly bowled over another woman as soon as you were inside, the bell above the door screaming your arrival, and you quickly bit out an apology before yelling, “he’s got a gun! Please—call the cops!”

The man behind the register immediately pulled out his cell phone and you saw him dial 9-1-1 before your blood ran cold when you heard the bell chime again. All the air in the tiny shop was sucked out when the telltale sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back filled the air. You knew if you looked behind you, you’d see Luke pointing a gun right at your head. Without sparing a look back, you dove down the nearest aisle, nearly bashing your head against a row of chips. You heard the shot tear through one of the freezer cases before the cacophony of screams and shouts of the other patrons rang out, too. Before you could even crawl behind another row of snacks or curl into a protective ball, the screech of the bell came again and the gas station was silent and still.

Instinctively, you knew he was gone again. In the wind.

You didn’t particularly remember the police arriving nor the “escort” down to the station. Giving your statement a handful of times felt robotic, detached. You didn’t react when the responding officers said Luke likely fled when he realized there were other people in the gas station. You barely flinched when Detective White came in and you saw him tap tap tap his pen on his notepad.

“It was Luke,” you muttered. “You can probably see it on the cameras.”

Your drive back to base hours later wasn’t exactly memorable and you sat on the small couch in the dark for a stretched moment until your phone rang. It felt like your arms had fallen asleep as you fumbled to get it out of your purse.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The sound of Sarah’s sweet voice immediately had you sobbing.

Unsurprisingly (but still embarrassingly), Sarah was in your little room within the hour and didn’t mind at all when you slouched into her lap as more Golden Girls reruns played on the television. Her soft fingers traced flowers and stars into your arm after your tears eventually ran out. She said nothing when you had told her what had happened other than a soft, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

**

Four weeks into the deployment, Jake was finally given allowance to make a video call to you—he had been told that he was allotted two calls every two weeks but so far he’d only been able to call his mom once. The entire deployment had been a clusterfuck. Jet malfunctions mixed with food past its expiration only added to the usual stress that came with a deployment of this scale. Having Javy, Omaha, and Halo with him was nice—Javy much more than the others, if Jake was being honest—but he still wanted you. He didn’t want to be away from you, especially not with how things were left when he had been called away. The fact that Luke still hadn’t been caught had bit at the back of his mind daily. He knew you were safe on base but…

The call rang twice before your pixelated face came into view and Jake felt something shift behind his ribs, like he was waiting to take another breath until he saw you again. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey, Ken.”

Jake’s spine went rigid at your tone. Even with the shitty connection, he heard how tired you were. “What’s going on?”

Your answering sigh crackled through the connection. “I’ll tell you when you get back, okay? How…how is everything going? Are you doing-”

Jake leaned a little closer to the tiny camera as if that would help you understand what he was saying. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that, not to me. You can talk to me, remember?”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment. “Fine. But first I need you to know that I’m safe, all right?”

Ice ran through Jake’s veins. No one should have to start a conversation with that. “Punch-”

“No one was hurt. I, um, I’m not really leaving base anymore—but I will be there to pick you up when you come back in. Luke seems skittish with crowds anyway. I’ll be safe there, too.”

“Just tell me what happened,” he said, voice a little harsher than he wanted and his anger dissolved when he saw you flinch. “Jesus, sorry. I wasn’t yelling-”

“I know,” you murmured. “I know you weren’t.” Another sigh pushed through you before you shook your head. “Luke found me at a gas station. He had a gun. He’s a lousy shot and took off when he realized there were other people around. Sarah and the Daggers are on a rotation; someone is with me all the time. Admiral Bates also had even more security put on each entrance to base, too, after I had to tell him what happened.”

Jake nodded, knowing that it was standard protocol to tell your commanding officer if something happened and the civilian authorities had to get involved. Knowing Admiral Bates was stepping up security was a small relief but Jake wondered how quickly he’d be court martialed if he just flew back to you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said next.

“I wasn’t go-”

“Ken.”

He might have laughed if this were a different situation. Realizing you knew him well enough to pinpoint exactly when a thought as stupid as flying back to you was crossing his mind, if you would be able to call him an idiot to his face and say something about using his two remaining brain cells to only make moronic decisions, he might have laughed about it. But he couldn’t so he didn’t. “What can I do?”

You were quiet for a moment before the smallest hint of a smile pushed at your lips. “Can you tell me something funny?”

Jake didn’t have to rack his brain a lot to find something, but he hoped it could keep that smile on your face. “Well, I’m on this boat with another aviator, right?”

“I know how deployments work, Ken.”

“His callsign is Honey.”

“Don’t throw stones in glasshouses, Hangman.”

Jake almost smiled then, too, and continued on. “But his backseater’s name is Badger.”

The quiet laugh you let out would have to be enough for now—it seemed like that small sound was all you were capable of right now. But the tight line of your neck and shoulders unraveled. So, for the rest of his allotted time, he took every opportunity he had to make you laugh. Before he was kicked out of the little room, you made him promise to keep himself safe.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“Love you too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of saying it.

**

You waved to Bradley and Tasha as they stood like guard dogs near the entrance to the parking lot. They’d come with you without a grumble but they appreciated the pastry and coffee you brought them as a thank you anyway. God, you just wanted to set eyes on Jake again. These past few weeks had been so fucking weird. Not leaving base had been fine, mostly. Having a friend or Sarah with you every night was nice for the most part but you did always feel like you were interrupting their lives with your bullshit. But even without that, the threat you had always managed to ignore or push to the back of your mind was now front and center.

Luke wanted you dead, no matter the cost.

And you, no matter how cliche it was, felt like you had just started living.

People had started to trickle off the carrier’s ramp and you tried to shake off the nerves you'd been living with for weeks. This was supposed to be a good thing. You scanned the crowds and spotted Javy’s girlfriend, Hope, and Neil’s parents beside Callie’s wife, and then you had to squint at the next group you spotted. Green eyes. Blonde hair. All of them. You knew them, didn’t you?

They seemed to spot you, too, and quickly turned course toward you. And then it dawned on you.

Oh god.

This wasn’t how you wanted to meet Jake’s mother and sister.

Sandra was leading the charge with one of her daughters behind her. There was no mistaking it now, they were headed right toward you.

“Hi there!” A delightful Texan twang hit your ears over the excited din of the crowds and you hoped your answering smile didn’t betray how nervous you were as you held out your hand for her to shake.

“I’m-”

“Punch!” Sandra finished for you before she threw her arms around you in a tight hug. And there was little fight in you to do anything but reciprocate. She rubbed your back for a moment then stepped back, holding you at arms length with that same warm smile on her face. “Oh, I am so happy to meet you, officially.”

“It is wonderful to officially meet you, too. I’m sure Jake will be so happy to see you both.”

Sandra laughed with a shake of her head as she dropped her hold. “We will probably just be an added bonus—you’ll be the star of the show, I’m sure.”

A surprised chuckle escaped you, a little strangled. What exactly did they know about you? What had Jake said? “Agree to disagree.”

Sandra was quick to introduce Mia, who also gave you a quick hug. “Kelly and Alex weren’t able to take off work but they’ll probably demand to FaceTime later.”

“I didn’t know you all were coming! Did you have trouble finding the port?” You asked, feeling a bit like you were intruding.

“Oh, not at all. And don’t you worry about us stealing too much of your time with Jacob,” Sandra said with a wink.

It immediately made your stomach twist. Oh god. This was embarrassing. “N-no, I, um-”

“You’re killing her, mama. Let her breathe,” Mia said with a smile. “Jacob probably still hasn’t grown a pair and said-”

“Mia!” Sandra scolded. “Language!”

Both you and Mia snorted (Mia more so than you) before her mother huffed and shook her head. “But she’s right. We’re just in town for a few hours and then heading up the coast to a cattle auction. We figured we could see him for a bit, we hope you don’t mind.”

You shook your head, chest warming at learning how adorably close Jake was to his family. “Of course not. I know he’ll be happy to see y-” Your words cut off in a scream as familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind and hauled you into the air for a moment as you were spun in a circle. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you turned and poked at Jake’s chest. “Don’t do that! You-” His lips on yours quickly stifled any halfhearted argument you may have had, too. At least for a moment. When he pulled back, a familiar smirk on his face, you were quick to say, “that's so rude. You can’t just kiss me-”

He kissed you again and probably would have continued if someone hadn’t cleared their throat behind you.

“Please tell me my mother isn’t here.” His words vibrated against your smiling mouth as he stood stock-still with you still in his arms. Oh, this was hilarious.

“I don’t think the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex rules apply to your mom, Ken. She can definitely see us.”

**

“Yes, she can see you,” his mother said, a laugh muddling her words.

Jake gave you one last kiss before stepping back and hugging his mother, trying to will the intense blush he felt blotting his cheeks away. He really hadn’t been expecting them—he had only had eyes for you as soon as his boots hit solid ground. And the fact that he hadn’t slept properly for eight weeks might have muddled his thought process anyway.

“Surprise!” Mia exclaimed.

He was quick to hug her, too, happy to see her smiling in person again. After his mom explained that they were only in town for a few hours, you suggested getting a bite to eat at one of the diners down the road. That worked for everyone and Jake started to herd the small group of women toward the parking lot, only pausing when he saw you stop to speak in low tones with Phoenix and Rooster. It seemed the pair needed a bit of reassurance to let you leave their line of sight but Phoenix eventually poked Rooster’s side with enough force to have him relent. Jake raised a hand in thanks to them before you rejoined his little group and he let you lead him to your car as you gave directions to the diner to his mother. The ride was short, thankfully, but he was happy just to feel the warmth of your thigh beneath his hand as you drove.

The hostess was quick to seat them when they arrived and his mother made sure to shove Jake onto the same side of the booth as you with a wink that had another blush inching its way up his face. She’d never been subtle.

“Well,” his mother started with a smile as her gaze moved between you and Jake after you all had ordered, “it seems like we may have been left uninformed about a few things.”

“It’s…new,” Jake said, feeling like he did when he was twelve and had been caught with his hand in the literal cookie jar.

“It doesn’t seem new.”

Jake kicked his sister beneath the table and earned a boot to his knee in return. She hadn’t even flinched. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you guys seem settled, happy.” Mia paused, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk behind her hand. “Like an old married couple.”

Jake felt your eyes on him and it did little to deter that thought of you in a white dress and a smile on your lips walking toward him. Married. Jake knew he had thought of you in that way for months before he even knew what it was like to kiss you, but to hear someone like Mia say it? It felt like…

“Either way, we’re happy to see you both so happy,” Mia said with a wink, giving him an out. “And now we get to finally learn all about you. Jake was pretty sparse in the details he gave about you. Other than your ability to keep him on his toes and the way your eyes seemed to stare straight through him.”

His face was on fire now and the temperature only grew when he heard your laugh. “Straight through you, huh? What else has he said?”

“Nothing. I’ve said nothing.”

You patted Jake’s leg with a laugh. “Let the women talk, Jacob. You can try and fail to tell me that you didn’t say any of it later.”

The food arrived by the time Jake’s ears were burning and you were laughing like old friends with his sister and mother. He couldn’t help but laugh, too, at a few of the stories they told about him.

“Oh, but enough about Jacob,” his mother said, “tell us more about you. What do you do when you’re not keeping him safe at work?”

You smiled around the straw to your strawberry shake. “I’ve had some time on my hands lately, so I’m trying to write a book.”

“You write?” Mia asked, setting her fork down to give you her attention. “What do you write?”

Jake couldn’t resist teasing his sister and his tired brain forgot a key piece of information when he opened his mouth next. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. You’ve read her books, I gave them to you, remember?”

The silence that followed swallowed the table.

It took two stretched moments for Jake to realize what he had revealed and it washed over him like a wave of cold salt water. “Oh shit.”

You leaned forward to set your head into your hands for a moment before sighing. “Did you knock something loose when you were in the air, Ken?”

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re Georgia Torrance?”

You nodded as you sat back with a small, uneasy smile. “I am. I hope you liked the books.”

“She loves those books! She and her girls talk about them all the time!”

It was Mia’s turn to blush. “Thanks for that, mama,” She grumbled. Mia fiddled with her fork for a moment before her shoulders slumped. “Please tell me my brother hasn’t inspired your books. I’ll never be able to read them again if he did,” she said, only half joking if the strained chuckle she let out was any indication.

Jake hadn’t thought about that. Where did you find inspiration? While it may be a bit of a stroke to his ego if you did see him as a book worthy romantic lead, he could understand why his sister would never want to read them again. He watched you smile and set your hand over Mia’s across the table.

You leaned closer with a glint in your eye that told him whatever came out of your mouth next was probably going to leave him fighting for his life in front of his family. “He wishes.” And then you winked as Mia giggled. As his sister’s giggles petered out, your smile grew, but maybe a little less sharp at the edges. “I just wrote about what I wanted most in the world at the time. Someone gentle and strong and understanding.”

“And they’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, of course. I mean, not everyone is going to think all of my leads are their cup of tea, but if someone finds a bit of joy in my book, I think that’s just as good. I wrote most of them when I was at my loneliest, but I think the stuff I’m working on now is just as good. I hope you still like it.”

Mia’s smile grew and Jake watched her set her other hand over yours. “I’m sure I’m going to love it.”

“We could talk about it later, if you want? I’d love to get your input.”

“I’d love that. Really.”

The rest of the meal flew by and you earned a motherly frown from his mom when you managed to pay for everyone’s meal without them noticing just as they noted it was time for them to hit the road again. You and Mia walked ahead out to the parking lot, exchanging numbers and giggling about something he didn’t hear—but the sight of two of his favorite people getting along made Jake smile, too.

His mom grasped at his arm and pulled him to a top with a gentle look he knew well. Jake was about to be told something she thought he should know already. “She’s wonderful, Jacob. And you’re so happy with her.”

“I am happy, mama.” And he was. He hoped you were, too.

She reached up and gently patted his cheek. “You let me know when you want Gram’s ring.” Then, after kissing his cheek and reminding him to still call on Sunday, she said she loved him and she and Mia were gone.

And, really, who could blame Jake for thinking about the antique diamond and white gold ring on your finger? No one.

“They’re nice,” you said as you climbed back into your car a few minutes later. “I might like them more than you.”

Jake groaned, letting his hand find its usual spot on your thigh as you pulled out of the lot. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dumped for my sister or mom. That would be a first.” He then squeezed your thigh for a moment, earning a squeal.

You halfheartedly slapped at his hand as you pulled out onto the road, heading back toward base. He watched you bite your lip for a stretched second. “We would have to be together for me to dump you.”

What were you talking about? “Do you…”

“Look,” you cleared your throat, “I know we don’t have to put a label on things, but I’d like to know where we…stand. Together.” You then steadfastly refused to look at him as you took another turn.

And, really, Jake couldn’t really comprehend what he had just heard. “Punch, I was under the impression that we were together since you asked me to dinner at the hospital.”

You were quiet for a moment before letting out a soft, “oh.”

So, Jake continued, knowing he needed to lay all his cards on the table. “There is no one else I would do all that paperwork for, you know. I am all in. I’ve been all in with you since before I knew that you snore in your sleep.”

“I do not snore!”

“Yes, you do,” Jake said with a laugh. “But I am happy to hear it. All the time. Whatever you want, I want, as long as it is with you. You’re my girl.” This felt just as important as telling you that he loved you.

“And if I want the whole nine yards? Marriage, babies, a home?” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could get any of that, deserve any of that.”

When you rolled to a stop at a red light, Jake reached out to tip your face in his direction. He wanted to make sure you knew he meant every word. “You deserve it. You do, all of that and more. And I would be honored to be the one to make sure you get it. I love you, darlin’. And I want everything with you.”

**

It was good to have Jake back for several reasons. One of them was that he took over all the “guard dog” duties (as he called them) at night so your other friends could get back to their normal lives. And you would never mind waking up to him on the pillow beside yours in the morning.

Knowing that you were on the same page with everything and this relationship was just…perfect. Something wonderful to focus on instead of knowing Luke was still out there.

Your name being called pulled you away from Natasha and Bob’s jet and you wiped your hands on the rag you kept in your jumpsuit’s pocket as you turned to look at Admiral Simpson a few paces away. “Sir?”

“I need you in my office. Now.” His mouth was set in a firm line with his hands on his hips. That was never a good sign.

A few of the other ADs looked at you as you followed the man out of the hangar and you tried to smile reassuringly at them, despite not knowing just what the hell was happening as you followed him all the way to his office. The grim look on his face didn’t budge even when Jake walked in a few moments later.

“Good. You’re both here.” He turned to grab paperwork from his desk. “I don’t want to be having this conversation. I want you both to know that.”

The rest of what he was saying was little more than a dull ringing in your ears as you realized what he was holding, what that paperwork meant. Something cold ran down your spine when you read one of the names signed at the bottom. You immediately recognized it. It was one of the big brass people who went golfing with Luke’s dad. It felt like the world had been taken out from under your feet and you were falling falling falling with no hope for a soft landing.

“We went about this the right way,” Jake argued, voice cutting through the sudden fog that had permeated your senses. “We filed the paperwork, we-”

“This comes from someone higher up than me, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Well, then what is going to happen?”

Admiral Simpson sighed and your heart dropped when his eyes landed on you. “The easiest route would be to have one of you reassigned.”

You knew it would be you. You were outranked and easily replaceable, all things considered. It would be you. And that was what Luke had wanted to do: to rip your home away from you, to leave you alone in the world again. But you just…

“No.”

“No.”

You looked at Jake and saw him already looking at you when you had spoken in unison.

“There are protocols that need to be followed. If it was up to me, this wouldn’t be an issue. Both of you have proven to be professional while on the flight line. But it is out of my hands. I don’t have a choice.”

“But I do,” you argued, turning to look at him. You rolled your shoulders back, wanting to stand as tall as you could with what you said next. “Please consider this my official acknowledgement that I will not be reenlisting at the end of my contract.”

“Punch!” Jake’s shout only strengthened your resolve.

“You do not have to make this decision now.”

“I do. I…I made a family here. I’m not going to lose it by being transferred to a different shore station.”

Jake whispered your name but you couldn’t look at him now. Not just yet. Not when you had all but set everything in stone.

“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Simpson asked, a surprising softness to his tone.

“I am. You can tell your superiors that this situation will be wrapped up in a neat little bow in a few weeks’ time.” You could feel both Jake and Admiral Simpson’s gazes pushing into you as you took a moment to glance down at your boots, trying to keep the resolve you had felt only a few seconds before.

Simpson was the one to break the silence. “I’ll get the paperwork started for you. I’ll have it on your desk by lunch tomorrow.” He paused and you looked up at him to see his mouth set in a sharp downturn. He shook his head before extending a hand out to you and you took it with a small smile. “It was a pleasure serving with you,” he said, making sure to enunciate your name and rank, too. You saluted him as he stepped back and then excused himself after a pointed look at Jake, leaving you alone.

“Punch…what are you doing?” Jake’s voice was soft but you could hear the tension hiding behind each syllable.

“I had to. I am not going to let Luke take this away from me. I have friends here, my best friends. I have made a family here. I…I have you here. I’m not going to let this all go. I won’t.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, sea glass eyes searching your face. But then a small smile pushed at his lips. “All in?”

“All in.”

And when he kissed you, you could feel his smile against your own. This was good, the start of something new.

**

Jake knew that the Daggers would take you leaving like a blow to the chest. When you asked them all to come to the Hard Deck, a place you felt safe in, a little before opening the following Saturday after your discharge papers were filed, there had been yelling and finger pointing and then tears.

Bradshaw had been the one to pull Jake aside when you were distracted by Harvard and Yale trying to get you to apply for one of the civilian contractor positions on base so you’d never be “too far away.”

“This is about Luke, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah. Punch thinks his dad called in a favor with his buddies and had had our paperwork pulled. God knows what he said to his dad to make him think this would help, but-”

“I’ll kill him,” Rooster said through gritted teeth.

“Which one?” Jake asked, not laughing.

“Doesn’t matter. Both of them deserve it.”

The group eventually turned into an impromptu goodbye party for you as the bar opened, despite you still having a few weeks left of your contract. Drinks were bought and shared and Jake noticed how you smiled through it all.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked quietly as he twirled you beneath his arm.

“It is,” you said with a soft pat to his chest. “I told you I wasn’t a lifer. Sure, this wasn’t exactly how I pictured getting out, but…I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” he murmured before reaching up to carefully hold your face.

The night continued and Jake bought a round for everyone after Javy announced that Hope had accepted his proposal. Hope showed off the gorgeous ring (which Jake helped pick out) to almost everyone with a bright smile and then Javy asked Jake to be his best man while you were pulled away by Bob and Phoenix for something. By the time Javy had told Jake the entire proposal story and Jake had already started a mental list of possibilities for his bachelor party, you had disappeared from view.

Jake was not entirely too proud to realize he started to panic when he didn’t immediately find you in the steadily growing crowd, but his heart settled when he spotted you on the back deck. You and Phoenix were talking out on the deck, dying sunlight painting both of you with a golden light. You were rolling your water bottle between your palms while Phoenix stared out toward the waves.

You were telling her about Luke. You were telling her everything. He could tell by the way you held yourself, back straight and uncomfortably rigid, only relaxing when Phoenix reached out to lace her fingers with yours.

“You’ll be good to her, won’t you?”

Jake turned to see Bob and Rooster both looking at him. Jake might have laughed if he didn’t see the sincere looks on their faces.

“I will. And she’s doing this so she can still be near you guys, it isn’t like she’s being sent across the country.”

Bob looked at Rooster, some silent communication passing between them before Rooster nodded. “Still, be good to her.”

“I plan to, for the rest of my life.” And he meant it.

The rest of the night passed with you beneath his arm, smiling and laughing with your friends. It loosened something tight in Jake’s chest each time he heard your laugh. You were going to be okay.

By the time midnight rolled around, the party had quieted a bit, Jake pulled you out to walk a little ways down onto a quieter stretch of the beach in front of a restaurant that had closed for the night, so you could watch the waves again, making you elbow him when he said it was “romantic because it was like our first date again.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

You hummed, a happy noise, and turned to rest the point of your chin on his chest as you wound your arms around his waist. “Yes, I know. You have a reputation to uphold.” But you still stood there with him and watched the waves until you shivered, the night air coming off the sea cutting through your thin dress.

“Ready to head home?” His hands traced slow circles into the low of your back, earning a soft sigh in return. You were content. Happy. That’s what he wanted for you.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

The yawn you let out next only made Jake smile. “Yeah, let’s get you tucked in.”

“You gonna rock me to sleep?” You asked with a lazy wink as you started to walk toward the parking lot.

Jake groaned only so he wouldn’t have to admit that the line worked on him. “Awful. Truly awful.”

You only laughed. “C’mon, Ken. Let’s go.”

He let you guide him up the bank to the restaurant's empty parking lot—he really did love watching your hips sway with each step. Just as you both stepped onto the asphalt, you froze and Jake didn’t realize you had stopped until he bumped into your back. “What is it?” Jake asked, looking up and trying to find what you were seeing but his blood ran cold when he spotted it. Spotted him.

It was Luke, lurking like a beast in the shadows of the lot’s street lamp.

**

“Get behind me,” Jake said, already pushing you to his back.

“Jake!”

“Come out and fight me! What, you have to wait until she’s alone again?”

You wrapped a hand over Jake’s arm as blood roared in your ears. You needed to leave. Now. You didn’t want Jake to get hurt, you wouldn’t allow it. “Jake-”

But Jake gently shook out of your grip and took a few steps toward Luke. “I’m here now, what’re you gonna do, huh? She’s not alone now—but that’s never stopped you from failing on doing anything worthwhile. You really are the biggest fuck up I’ve ever heard of.”

You knew what he was doing, goading Luke into attacking first so there could be plausible deniability. Jake wouldn’t be the aggressor if anyone asked. But still, you just wanted to leave. To leave and never see Luke again. You swallowed hard and moved to stand at his back again, hand tightening on Jake’s arm, ready to run. “Jake, c’mon.”

“How many times are you going to try to kill her, man? How many chances do you need to actually do something? Don’t you think it’s a little pathetic that you can’t do anything right the first time? And when you can’t, you need your father to come in and clean up your messes.”

Luke gritted his teeth, shining in the moonlight. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and muscle memory had you wanting to run. Hide. Or try to calm him down. But you couldn’t, not now.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit.”

“I know that you beat a woman for doing your job better than you because you liked the bottle more than keeping your pilot alive.”

“I was good at my job!”

Jake laughed, low and rumbling. “And you’re a shit liar, too. You don’t even believe that.”

And that was enough. Luke charged at Jake and you tugged you both out of the way, watching in muted horror as Luke pulled a knife from his pocket and swung blindly. When he swung again with a shout, you shoved Jake to the side and managed to step back just enough to only feel the air rush by your neck.

Jake stumbled and you saw his eyes go wide before he pivoted and threw himself forward, catching Luke around the waist and tackling him to the pavement. He reared back just enough to haul his arm up and landed a blow to Luke’s face. But Luke was not finished either. His head snapped to the side only for a moment before you saw the knife still in his hand.

“Jake!” was all you could scream. Not him. Not your Jake. He couldn’t take him from you.

But you weren’t fast enough. The moonlight caught the blade just before it arced across Jake’s chest as Luke threw his entire weight behind the move, shifting them both to the side. Blood bloomed and soaked through Jake’s shirt as he let out a sharp yell before he wrenched backward, away from Luke who was slowly sitting up, poised to try again.

You dove for them and your knees slammed against the pavement, skidding into Jake’s thighs. Your shaking hands wrapped around Luke’s hand and slammed and slammed and slammed it into the pavement until his grip on the knife loosened and you wrenched it away with a guttural scream of your own.

Luke ripped his hand from yours just enough to backhand you. Pain rippled across your face as white spots danced in front of your eyes for a moment but you hardly had time to recover before a punch left you gasping for air—Luke snarled something, drool gathering at the sides of his lips, but you hardly heard it over the ringing in your ears.

And then you were shoved backward, your spine flattening against the pavement with a muted shout of your own. Luke pushed himself up onto his feet, looming over you for a moment, cloaked in shadow. But you couldn’t be scared. Not now. You kicked, your heel connecting with his crotch, and sent him to his knees again.

“You bitch!” He seethed. “You-”

The rest of his threat was cut off as Jake’s arm wrapped around his throat, you hadn’t even realized he had moved. Luke reached up to claw at Jake’s skin but he didn’t falter, even as he thrashed in his grip.

Heaving yourself back onto your feet, you watched Luke’s face get steadily redder and his attempts to get out of Jake’s hold grew more sluggish by the moment. A small bit of you liked it, liked seeing the man who had tried to ruin your life and murder you over and over again be so utterly helpless. You looked at Jake to see him looking at you, silently asking for you to tell him what you wanted.

So, you said nothing. Nothing until Luke’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went entirely limp. Jake let go of him after you nodded and you almost laughed as you watched Luke’s face bounce on the pavement just as red and blue lights started to bleed across the street. You weren’t surprised someone had called the cops, maybe they’d do something worthwhile this time.

Jake reached out for you as the sirens grew louder and you happily set your hand in his before carefully pressing your lips to his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

By the time the paramedic had cleaned the thankfully shallow slash on Jake’s chest, Luke was being read his Miranda Rights and you had given your statement to the responding cops.

You watched Luke get shoved into the back of the cop car; one of the cops actually pushed his head down with a palm on the back of his neck like a disobedient puppy.

When Jake stepped in front of you and gently cradled your face, you sagged into his grip, all the remaining fight and tension bleeding out of you in a moment. “It’s done,” was all you could say.

“You finished it,” he said softly.

“We did. And I…” The words stalled on your tongue. “What happens now?”

Jake shook his head before pulling you close to press a kiss to your forehead, your temple, then your lips. “I don’t know, darlin’. But we’ll figure it out together.”

**

The dance was slow and easy, you and Jake simply swayed to the beat as other couples moved around you.

“How are you tonight, Mrs. Seresin?”

You laughed with a shake of your head. He called you that more than your name, more than “Punch,” more than anything else. It had been five years since you’d surprised all your friends and family at your Ugly Holiday Sweater Party that it was actually your wedding and he still didn’t get tired of calling you Mrs. Seresin. But you didn’t think you’d ever tire of hearing it, either. “I’m fine, Captain Seresin.”

His pleased smirk grew and he pulled you a little closer. Well, as close as your bump would allow. Just for a moment, he let go of your hip to smooth a hand over the silk of your gown stretched across your growing bump before resuming your dance.

Your fingers inched up his shoulder to push into the hair at the back of his head, ruining his carefully coiffed style. He was so handsome in his dress whites. The tinge of grey starting to grow at his temples only added to his enduring appeal—and he was all yours. “Your speech was wonderful,” you added with a smile.

He chuckled and shook his head, glancing at another dancing couple beside you. Bradley and Natasha were in their own bubble; it was to be expected at their wedding reception. But you did get a chuckle out of Natasha stealing her husband’s dress white’s hat and wearing it atop her carefully styled hair. To be fair, it did match her gown, too. Their son, welcomed two years ago with the help of a surrogate so both parents could keep flying up until they took their parental time off, was happily eating cake in Bob’s lap at a table in the corner. Bob’s wife was making a valiant effort to keep crumbs off Bob’s dress trousers while Pete kept a napkin beneath the toddler’s chin in an attempt to help. Today had been beautiful and perfect, exactly what you wanted for your best friends’ wedding.

“Thank you for looking it over for me.” He leaned down to brush his mouth against yours and you could feel his smile.

It had been a blissful five years. You may have been a bit of a naval cliche, getting married within a few months of really dating but it worked for you. You were happy. Getting out of the Navy allowed you more time to write. Your publisher was nearly ecstatic with the increase in productivity and offered you a new royalties deal. While it still wasn’t Stephen King money—and you knew you’d never reach that level—you were proud of it.

Jake had made sure the house he bought on the coast had an office for each of you and he happily helped you paint it a soft green that you swore helped you write. When you offhandedly mentioned that it reminded you of his eyes, he fucked you bent over the pricey cherry wood desk he’d bought for you after your latest book hit the best seller’s list. If your math was correct (it was), that was when your first child was conceived. Little Elsie came screaming into the world a few months later and immediately had Jake wrapped around her tiny fingers. She was currently being babysat (aka spoiled) by Grammy Sandy while you and Jake took the weekend for Bradley and Natasha’s wedding—you were a bridesmaid and Jake a groomsman, so you had quite a few things to take care of. The house was filled with pictures of quiet moments you cherished, like Elsie asleep on Jake’s chest a few weeks after she was born, and then more rambunctious moments, too, like the last Halloween party you attended where you were dressed as Ken and Jake was your Barbie. Apparently Jake looked good in everything, including hot pink. Pictures of the Daggers and their families were hung up beside pictures of Danny at his first lecture after earning his PhD and Georgie with her husband with her little boy on her hip. A picture of you and Jake surrounding Mia at her wedding a few months ago was on the mantle above the fireplace beside a picture of you and Lily with Sarah, Junior, and Taylor at Junior’s wedding, too.

Luke had been sent away for a few decades after pleading guilty to attempted murder and aggravated stalking. You doubted he would ever be a threat to you again but you and Jake had both been granted restraining orders against him, too. From what you had heard from the grapevine (Beau mentioned it in passing with a knowing smile), Luke’s father quietly retired from his position in the Navy before the trial and all of the relationships he had cultivated over the decades of his service crumbled when they’d learned of how he had paid for your silence. The ordeal had been exhausting and had left you reeling day after day when you needed to relive all of it while on the stand. But you had a support system. You had the Daggers, your siblings, the Kazanskys, your in-laws, and Jake. Your Ken. He never left your side.

“Is my son giving you any trouble tonight?” It was a recurring question since he learned you were pregnant again. Elsie had given you a few scares in utero and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

“He’s on his best behavior.”

“Good.” Jake stole another kiss and then you stole one right back.

It wasn’t always perfect. No relationship was. You still had to deal with deployments and growing pains that came with expanding your family, and the infrequent disagreements that arose. But it was good. It was worth fighting for. Jake had given you a home that could never be taken from you.

“I love you,” you whispered after he spun you under his arm.

“I love you more.”

A/N: that’s all she wrote, folks! thank you so much for going along on this ride with me. I hope you enjoyed Xx

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #Top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin #tgm #top gun maverick #female reader

[solargeist]

Okok here it is 1. Cw unreality stuff i guess? Like not being able to tell if you’re hallucinating 2. I know you said they scare each other but uhh they kind of psychologically horror each other it got away from me a bit

Scar figured he was finally going crazy.

It was overdue, really, with how long he had been alone. Stranded on a hostile world, left checking over his shoulder, expecting doom around every corner, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d started seeing things. A flicker of purple, staining his periphery as he moved about his base. It disappeared the moment he whipped around to see it, and faded from view within a few seconds every time that he noticed it, but as the stain stuck for longer and longer just in the very corner of his vision, he started to worry that this might actually be the end of him.

That was dramatic, he thought, over just a flash of purple tucked away in his blind spot, something very likely just a trick of the light. He thought, until he started monologuing to this violet cataract, started feeling the weight of eyes on his back. He’d cook more than he had planned to and leave plates out, disobeying the strict rations he had set for himself (because that was all he had to feed, himself, no one else). He had full conversations with an empty room, holding that violet smudge in the corner of his eye like a match cupped in shaking hands against a howling wind. The plates always ended up empty. He wasn’t sure who ate them. He couldn’t remember.

Time went on. Things got worse. He saw purple even when he wasn’t trying, still fading the moment he tried to pull it from his periphery, but still hiding there, by his cupboards and corners and closets, in every space that he wasn’t looking. He clung to it— sometimes it would leave for hours on end, he didn’t notice the absences before. Now they felt like bleeding out.

It was warm that day, he remembered, that he last spoke to the stain. Not directly to it, of course— moreso at it, or around it, or through it, something like that— but he found himself talking until he was hoarse nowadays and that day was no exception. “I’ve been meaning to replace these curtains,” he informed no one, stroking the sun-soaked fabric of the window between his thumb and forefinger as the shape behind him watched from the countertop. “I used to have boats on my curtains. My brother had spaceships. I was so jealous. It seemed so important then.” He let go of the curtain, letting his hand fall to the side. “I hope he’s okay. My brother. I keep hoping— I think he got off-world in time, before the transporter system broke down. They said on the radio, years ago, they’d come back for us. The scientists, not my brother.” He turned his head just slightly, catching the blurred shape in his vision as it leaned towards him. He wasn’t sure if it was genuine interest or just a bored shift. “No, the scientists said they’d get emergency transporters in place in a few months, so maybe he caught one of those, him and mom. Then again, the radios went down before the project was done, so. Not sure if they ever went through with it, if they decided we were a lost cause. I’m still here, I guess, just… waiting. For rescue, I think. Hopefully whatever it is I’m waiting for will come soon because I—“

He turned his eyed a degree too far. The shape that had grown so clear and close to him vanished like a candle blown out. He was in his kitchen. He was alone. A cupboard made bare by greedy hands and spiders, something was wrong, something was missing. He didn’t used to feel this bad about being alone, didn’t he? He had been alone before, had it really been this bad?

He figured he was finally going crazy.

Scar didn’t talk to the spot in his peripheral vision after that. He saw it and he looked away. He turned the lights out that night, all of them, hoping desperately that the darkness couldn’t trick him the way the light did. Still, his room illuminated in purple glow. He covered the mirror in the bathroom despite knowing that just behind his reflection lurked something that was not real and was not there. He closed his eyes and saw purple, purple, purple.

Tonight felt different, somehow, like fallen dew rather than ceaseless fog. Scar took a determined breath, not with less energy, but energy more focused. The air, now that he was just above the tree-line, seemed to breathe with him in powerful and controlled movements. The lights were on below him. Normally he wasn’t one to waste power, but he was facing this thing tonight if it killed him, and if it killed him, it wouldn’t really matter if he left the fridge open and the oven preheated. One more deep breath.

He found the spot in his peripheral as easily as breathing. It tried to flicker. He didn’t let it. A fraction of a degree at a time, he dragged his eye towards it, somehow forgetting its small, humanoid shape even as it lingered on in the center of his vision, form held together with spiderwebs and moth wings. Scar’s eyes burned but he didn’t dare blink. He could see them. A short, humanoid shape radiating purple and purple and purple. It was the inverse of blinding, nearly drowned out by its own afterimage, a bruise of light covering what Scar was certain was its face although he had to check a second time to make sure, the memories of what it looked like slipping past him like sand through fingers, vanishing the second he wasn’t actively thinking about it. He stared it straight in its eyes, or, where he thought its eyes should be, or, where he had already been staring and now could not remember why. He spoke, finally, for what he did not realize was the first time in a week.

“You.”

And it responded, in a voice as fragile and momentary as the wind chimes he used to keep on his porch,

“You see me?”

Or did it say, “So you can see me,” or, “I’m sorry,” or, “Was this it? Was this what you wanted? What you waited for, for so long, so very, very long?”

Or maybe it said nothing at all. Maybe he just imagined it. It had fallen through his fingers. The words were sand.

“Yes,” he answered, not remembering the question.

With a shaking hand he reached towards the bruise in his vision, palm up and terrified.

“You really shouldn’t be able to see me…” the thing muttered (but maybe didn’t), reaching forward with its own hand. Palm down, landing hesitantly on Scar’s. Their hands touched, and with the sound of glass wind chimes and an hourglass breaking in reverse, the haze shattered, reabsorbed into this newly material being like a lizard eating its own shed skin. Scar blinked. The thing, now visible and rememberable as a short, blonde man with two eyes (purple) and, in fact, an entire face typical of a person. The wings were new, though.

He looked down at their hands, still held, and dragged a thumb across the back of the man’s hand, remembering the texture; rough, but not calloused, like he maybe needed some lotion.

“How?” It asked, and this time it stuck in the world, echoing across the roof.

This time Scar didn’t answer. “Who are you?”

The man with wings hesitated. A second too long, and a new voice spoke, from no determinable source.

“Alright, sunrise, that’s enough.”

This voice shot clean through the world, a practiced arrow leaving no entry or exit wound. In fact, Scar was certain no one had spoken at all.

He looked back at the man whose hand he held. He was not there. Had he ever been there?

-🦕

OHH this was fun , i doodled bc the part abt Scar making two meals stuck out to me

#ask #grian #the crafting dead #evo smp #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #sketching #my art #grians eating rice and fish <3 i ate that the other night #i didnt expect watcher mum to show up AUGH

[txtaetertots]

perfect man | huening kai

pairing idol!hueningkai x non-idol!gn!reader

wc 4.0k

genre friends to lovers, FLUFF

summary kai has a huge crush on you and he’s determined to win you over by any means necessary, but he’s worried maybe he went too far.

warnings i made kai cry a little sawry 😔, reader is implied 99-01 liner, you’re also shorter/smaller than kai.. so, reader also uses nail polish so if you don’t normally use/play with nail polish.. now you do friend <3

notes it’s my sweet boy’s birthdayyyy !! this was kinda self indulgent of me considering i’m a ‘00 liner ningdungie saurrrr.. sue me !! soobin and i have a lot in common in that sense don’t u think

“i’m not really interested in dating younger guys.”

those words spoken by you kept repeating in kai’s head, tormenting him.

kai has had a crush on you ever since you first started working at hybe in the café. the way you so warmly smiled at him and greeted him good morning, taking his juice order and serving him his morning pastry. he swore he'd never seen a more beautiful person, almost angelic with the way the morning sunshine hit you just right to give you that heavenly glow. his heart nearly leaped out of his chest every morning, seeing you behind the counter wearing your lovely smile with enthusiasm.

every time you made deliveries to the dance studio for them, kai was always one of the first to greet you at the door and help you set up their snacks and refreshments. he loved the few extra minutes it gave him to talk to you and get to know you. it got to the point where he would make mundane orders for juice boxes or napkins just so he could see you during lessons. you thought it was odd, but everyone else could tell kai was a lovesick puppy.

after a while, you became close with him and the rest of the boys. they decided to keep you around more often since it made kai so happy to spend time with you. they loved the way you made kai’s face light up just by walking into the room. and you loved hanging out with them. it was nice being able to have friends your own age in the company you could spend your break hours with. it got to the point where you would occasionally join them to hang out outside of company hours. you would have dinner, play games, watch movies, or go shopping.

the boys enjoyed your company, and always made sure kai had his chance to spend some extra time with you. you just never noticed the advances. you never saw kai’s closeness and playfulness as flirting because you didn’t see kai in a romantic light. he was younger than you and you didn’t have any interest in dating anyone younger. so when the devastating revelation was made during a dinner with the boys, kai’s heart shattered into dust. beomgyu felt bad, all he wanted to do was drop subtle hints that your “ideal type” was sitting right next to you. he didn’t expect you to list age as a preference.

kai was silent after dinner. he lay on his bedroom floor, staring up at the ceiling, thinking. does he just try to move on? would it hurt to try and change your mind? does he even have a chance to make you see him as boyfriend material? would you only ever see him as your cute best friend? he was heartbroken. but, that didn’t mean he lost all hope.

“so, what are you going to do now?” beomgyu asks, leaning against kai’s door frame.

kai sits up, letting out a deep sigh before looking up to the man who unintentionally caused his heartache.

“i’ve never felt so strongly about anyone in my life,” kai confesses. “but, what if i really have no chance?”

he paused, pondering whether his efforts to win you over would be pointless. as he was deep in his thoughts, his phone went off. a single text notification. kai picked it up from his bed, seeing your name flash on his lockscreen:

ynie 💕: there’s a new bakery by the company! we have to go together, hyukai!

with a smile on his face, kai looked up at beomgyu, who was patiently waiting to hear his verdict.

“hyung, i don’t want to give up.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it started with changing the way he acted around you. he tried acting more forward and flirty. he thought maybe then you would start to see him as a man rather than a friend. and to start, he flaunted his biggest asset: his height. you were small in comparison to his physique, so it wasn’t too hard to find ways to fluster you. if you needed something from a higher shelf, he would come up behind you, placing a hand ever so gently on your back, and leaned over to grab whatever it was for you. you were caught off guard every time. the feeling of his hand on your back, the smell of his cologne intoxicating your senses. has your heart always skipped this fast?

you usually greeted each other with a hug, and kai began using this to his advantage. once he sees you running towards them waving your arm, he bends his legs ready to pick you up off the ground and spin you around. his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing tightly, holding your body close to his. you’d both erupt into laughter every time, loving this new greeting. kai loved the feeling of holding you, taking in your scent as your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, burying his face in your neck. it felt like you were all his.

when it was movie night at their dorm, kai would make sure to sit next to you and bring a blanket for the two of you to share. he’d put his arm around you, his hand resting on the top of your head gently caressing your hair as you slowly began melting into his touch. his chest was broad, making him a perfect pillow. he was warm and smelled so nice, making him so inviting. his steady breath soothed you to sleep every time. has he always been this comforting?

you visited the boys during one of their fittings, bringing them snacks to replenish their energy. soobin, yeonjun, taehyun, and beomgyu welcomed you with warm smiles and head pats, thanking you for the snacks and refreshments. you looked around for kai, wondering where your favorite boy was. and as if on cue, the curtains to one of the changing rooms swiped open revealing kai in one of his prospective tour outfits. he walked out, tugging the sleeves and smoothing down his chest. he almost didn’t notice you, as you were too busy gawking at the sight of the fabric hugging his body. you were so used to seeing him in his hoodies and sweatpants. this new look wasn’t bad at all, but it was definitely not helping your flushed face calm down.

“yn!” he exclaimed, walking over to you to give you a quick hug before making his way to his stylist, leaving you dazed.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

your mind felt frazzled as you paced around your apartment, trying to make sense of these feelings you’ve been experiencing. kai has been acting differently lately, and you didn’t pay much attention to it at first. but, it started becoming strange when your usually shy, cute hyukai was suddenly acting more bold and charming towards you. almost.. flirtatious. whenever he puts his arms around you, or whenever his voice gets deeper speaking to you. the loving way he calls you by your nickname and holds you close to his chest when he hugs you. just thinking about it over again made your face flush and your chest feel heavy. what is going on? did you… like huening kai?

no. that can’t be it. he was your best friend in the company. your favorite boy. the boy who always came to see you in the morning with the sweetest smile. the boy who would always send you links to videos he knew you’d find funny. the boy who always held your hand and swung your arms when you walked together through the long hallways. the boy who made you smile when you were sad. the boy who made you feel cared for and wanted.. the boy who made your heart race with a single glance in your direction. the boy who made your heart flutter when he playfully blew you a kiss. the boy who had you daydreaming about when you’ll see him again…

oh.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a week had passed since you last hung out with the boys since their schedule began picking up. this was going to be the last time you could spend time with them before their tour started, so you made sure you could fit as much time together as possible today. you arrived at their dorm, excited to see your favorite boys again.

soobin opened the door for you, smiling as he greeted you and let you in. you removed your shoes and walked further into their dorm, greeting everyone as you saw them. every step you took made your head feel lighter and lighter. every step you took to see him. kai was in the kitchen, getting snacks prepared for everyone while they waited for their takeout dinner to arrive. you felt a skip in your step, almost as if you were hesitant to approach him, but you quickly caught yourself on the counter. kai turned quickly upon hearing your hitched squeal after almost tripping. his face concerned as he dropped what he was doing to approach you. he placed his hands on your shoulders, trying to get a good look at you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“i’m okay, kai! i caught myself,” you said sheepishly, trying your best to avoid eye contact because you knew you were one glance away from turning into a tomato.

kai sighed, smiling as he ruffled your hair. “it’s good to see you again, yn-ie. i’ve missed you.”

there it was again. his deep voice. the way it sent shivers down your spine, making your heart pound in your ears. oh he’s so charming.

both of you joined the others in the living room, laying out the snacks on the coffee table. you arranged the plates neatly, making sure everyone had access to everything. once you were satisfied, you smiled to yourself and grabbed a few cookies for yourself before finding a place to sit. kai eagerly patted the empty seat on the couch next to him, lifting his blanket so you could settle yourself with him like always.

you shyly sat down, nervously tugging at your sleeves before draping the blanket over your legs. kai’s arm found its way around you again and he let out a relaxed breath, content with the proximity between you two. whereas you were feeling like you were about to suffocate from trying to hold your breath.

“hey, are you okay?” kai asks gently, rubbing your shoulder and pulling you closer. you were so stiff and rigid, it made his own breath hitch. he slowly let you go and began to worry. maybe he was overstepping your boundaries and you were too nice to tell him directly. fuck. he mentally cursed himself, trying to give you more space. you felt him let go and slowly move away. you quickly shook your head, words stuck in your throat, trying to reassure him you were alright.

it was no use. kai kept his distance, slowly inching further away from you as the movie went on. when your takeout arrived, he moved to the floor with yeonjun and beomgyu and stayed there for the remainder of the film. you were finally relaxed, but part of you was a little disappointed. you missed having his warmth next to you…

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

you began helping clean up after the final installment of the movie series was over. kai avoided you, trying his best to give you back your space. he walked briskly past you with dishes and trash to the kitchen. he was acting like you weren’t there anymore. you stood idly in the middle of the living room, confused and hurt. you were quickly brought out of your thoughts, however, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. you perked up, a smile on your face as you looked up to see… yeonjun. your smile faded, much to yeonjun’s offense. but he laughed it off.

“were you expecting someone else?” he laughed. “i just wanted to ask if you were okay? you look bummed.”

“sorry, jjunie,” you sighed. “but i’ll be fine. it’s nothing.”

your eyes diverted, locking their sights on kai who was wiping down the table. yeonjun followed your gaze, smiling to himself. he nudged you forward, “go talk to him.”

you spared a glance at yeonjun. he cocked his head, urging you to make a move. you took a deep breath and sighed. you had to talk to kai. you thought for a moment before approaching him. a lightbulb flashed over your head as you looked over at your bag by the foyer. you remembered you still had some new nail polishes you bought the other day in your bag. whenever you bought new polishes or stickers you always had kai test them out with you, since he always did the same with his sisters growing up.

you ran to grab your bag before making your way up to your best friend. the nerves were gone and a bright smile back across your lips as you excitedly tapped the taller boy’s shoulder. he looked back at you surprised, but immediately overcome with joy when he saw that beautiful smile beaming up at him. his favorite smile.

“i have new polishes to test! do you want to try them out with me?” you asked hopefully, waving your bag up to your chest. his worries immediately melted away. he nodded, holding his hand out for you to take to guide you back to his room.

you ran up to his desk, taking out all the polishes and stickers you had bought and laying them across the surface. kai brought a chair from the dining table for you to sit on while you played around with your new goodies. he set it down behind you, taking a seat on his own desk chair and examining the bottles and sheets in front of him. you had bought new shades of pink and yellow as well as flower and heart stickers. he smiled to himself, thinking about how cute you were when it came to nail art. you always get so excited to try new designs and color palettes.

“hands are washed?” you asked before taking your seat. he nodded, showing you his clean, pretty hands.

you sat down, adjusting your seat as necessary to get a good angle on kai’s hands. they were so pretty. his fingers were long and slender. his nail beds were perfect, not a chip or dent in sight. he had the most beautiful hands. the most perfect hands for you to hold. you took his right hand and began carefully applying a single coat of the pink polish on each finger. your breath was steady as you focused on staying within his nails. you almost didn’t notice him cautiously scooting closer.

“i, uhm,” kai began, clearing his throat. “i got you tickets for our shows here in seoul. if you wanna come, that is. you don’t have to though. no pressure or anything.”

you giggled, focus still on completing the second coat. “of course i’d love to come! are you kidding?”

kai bit his lip trying to stop himself from grinning too hard. he had always wanted you to come to one of their shows. his goal was always to have you there as his lover someday, but he was okay with having you there as his best friend first. maybe he could use this as an opportunity to charm you even further with how cool he can be on stage.

you held his hand, careful not to touch the fresh art, blowing gently at the wet polish trying to dry them faster before moving on to the next hand. kai stared at your soft features, obsessed with the way your eyelashes fluttered with every blink and how your nose scrunched lightly when you felt yourself getting lightheaded. you were so pretty. if he was being honest, he only let you test your nail products on him because it allowed him to stare at you all he wanted. you were too focused on doing his nails to notice the way his eyes practically twinkled with hearts as he admired you. sure, he loved having your experimental designs on him to show off. but, he loved being able to dote on you up close even more.

“done!” you said happily, letting him take a look at his pink nails with hearts.

he giggled. “how cute! makes me feel pretty,” he posed with his hand by his face, blowing you one of his infamous kisses. you could feel the tips of your ears getting hot and you just prayed your hair hid them well.

you reached for his other hand, trying to move on and distract your racing mind. kai closed his eyes, regret sprawling over his face. he did it again.

“i’m sorry, yn,” he said softly, looking down at his desk. you stopped painting, immediately looking up with widened eyes. why was he apologizing so suddenly?

“why are you sorry?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. you put down the polish, pushing everything aside to focus on your sulking best friend. “you didn’t do anything wrong?”

“yes i did,” he began. his eyes refused to meet yours. “i keep making you uncomfortable.”

“what? no, no! you’re not making me uncomfortable! what makes you think that?” you took his hands in yours trying to reassure him. you were far from feeling uncomfortable with kai. he made you shy, but never uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry,” he repeated, shutting his eyes tightly. “i keep trying to flirt with you and all i’m doing is making you uncomfortable to be around me. you get so tense and you barely look at me anymore. i’m so sorry, yn! it’s okay if you don’t like me, i should’ve just asked before going ahead and pushing your boundaries.”

his voice cracked, tears threatening to fall through his tightly shut eyes. he felt awful. his grand plan was backfiring and in the worst way possible. he was okay with you not liking him back now, he just didn’t want you to hate him and think he’s a creep. losing you all together would be so much worse than you not reciprocating his feelings.

you were stunned. you didn’t know what to say. his words just barely process through your mind. did you hear him correctly?

“kai, what are you talking about?” you managed to spit out. you felt breathless. your heart was pounding so fast it felt like it stopped, and all that was left was a humming sound in your ears.

kai opened his eyes, slowly turning his head to look at you. his eyes were glassy, tears pooling at the brim. you’ve never seen him cry and the sight made you feel like your whole world was collapsing. kai took a deep breath, blinking once to collect himself. the pooled tears began to fall across his pink cheeks. you reached out slowly, cupping his face in your palms and wiping his tears away with a stroke of your thumbs.

it was in that moment you realized how he felt. the way his eyes were so sad, yet full of absolute adoration as he looked at you. his lips turned down into a pout, trying their best to keep him from crying out loud. he sniffled as he searched your eyes for any hint of how you felt. but all he saw was confusion and concern. he had to lay it all out now.

his lips parted, but he stayed silent for a moment. kai took your hands from his face and held them between his own, eyes never looking away from yours.

“yn, i like you,” he began. his voice was unsteady. “i’ve like you for a while. and when you said you didn’t like younger guys, i had the stupid idea to try and change your mind. i’ve been trying to be more manly and flirt more directly, hoping i could win your heart. i wanted to prove i could be a man for you too. but instead i’ve been making you tense and uncomfortable and i’m so sorry. it’s okay if you don’t like me back. i’ll stop my advances and everything, just please don’t leave me. i didn’t mean to act like a creep.”

he was so sincere. it made your heart hurt just knowing he was so afraid of you not wanting to be around him anymore. you didn’t mean to come across as uncomfortable. but, you just got so flustered and shy all you could do was retreat from his attention. and in reality it was quite the opposite. you loved his attention. it made your heart flutter and filled your tummy with butterflies. you liked him. you really liked him.

“oh, my baby,” you cooed, lunging yourself forward from your seat and wrapping your arms around kai’s shoulders. he was stunned. he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your waist, his grip tightening as he relaxed in your embrace. he closed his eyes and burried his face in your neck, more tears threatening to escape.

“you never made me uncomfortable,” you said softly by his ear. “and i’m sorry i made you think that.”

you pulled away, smiling sweetly as you took his face back in your hands and wiped his tears away. he sniffled, trying to keep his composure, waiting for what you had to say about his confession. his eyes widened as your face inched closer to his, pulling him close and finally closing the gap between you. your lips felt so soft and plush, just as he always dreamed they would. his eyes fluttered closed as he melted into your touch, hands resting at the curve of your waist. this was it. this was the moment he had been dreaming of for months. he could taste the hint of strawberry from your lip balm as you moved your lips against his, fogging his mind. it was so sweet. so intoxicating. you pulled away gently. cheeks blushed as you watched him slowly come out of his dazed expression.

“i really like you, too,” you finally confessed. “there’s no other man for me, but you.”

kai’s face lit up, joy overcoming him as he wrapped his arms around you and stood up to spin you around. he squeezed you tightly, not wanting to let you go. you weren’t so eager to let him go either. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tangled your hands in his fluffy, black hair. you pushed yourself up just enough to look at him, smiling before leaving a quick peck on the bump of his nose. kai let you down, grabbing a hold of your hands in his and held them against his chest so you could feel his heart.

“what changed your mind? not that i’m complaining or anything,” he laughed, his eyes staring down at you with the most intense admiration. his pupils dilated and glossed over. he has never felt happier.

“nothing,” you giggled. “i think i’ve always liked you. but since you started being more bold with your advances, i’ve been getting so nervous around you. i felt like i was going to explode every time you were around. but, i loved every minute i spent surrounded by your warmth. i was just shy, kai. not uncomfortable. you stole my heart.”

a smug smile made its way to kai’s face.

“you’re all mine,” he said lovingly, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “finally.”

you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your ear against his chest hearing how fast his heart was racing. hearing him call you ‘his’ filled your stomach with those same butterflies. both of you stood there for a moment, just taking in each other’s presence and embrace. neither of you wanting to let go.

“you know,” you said, propping your chin on his chest to look up at him. “i still like you when you’re your usual sweet, cute self right?”

he let out a soft giggle. “yeah, but i like how shy you get when i use my manly charms,” kai said proudly, earning a giggle from you. “and i’ll be sure to use them when i take you out on a proper first date when i come back.”

you knew you fell for the right guy. you’re just shocked it took you this long to realize it, but you’re willing to wait however long you need just to be with him. afterall, kai was the perfect man for you.

© txtaetertots

#tomorrow x together #txt #hueningkai #huening kai #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai x you #huening kai x you #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt scenarios #txt fic #hueningkai fluff #huening kai fluff #huening kai x reader #huening kai scenarios #huening kai imagines #huening kai fic #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #beomgyu #soobin #yeonjun #taehyun

[mariclerc]

A project of love | ls2

Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.

Warning: none.

a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂

You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.

He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”

You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”

Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”

“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”

You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”

“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”

”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”

You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.

You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”

Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.

Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.

“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”

You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.

You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”

“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”

He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.

You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.

You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”

You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.

***

The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.

He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.

“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”

You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”

His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”

You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.

***

The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.

One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”

You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”

The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.

As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”

You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.

Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.

“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”

As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.

During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”

“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”

His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.

The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.

“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”

You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.

Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.

“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”

A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”

He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.

The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.

You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.

As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant #logan x reader #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x you #logan x you #logan x y/n #logan sargeant fluff #mariclerc fics

[the-marshals-wife]

New Horizons (Arthur Curry x Reader)

A/N: Requested by @dantes-devil-huntress. I can't believe this is my first Aquaman fic! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Premise: Trying to figure out his place in the world as the newly crowned king of Atlantis, Arthur meets someone who may just help him find the answers he looking for.

Description: Arthur Curry/Aquaman x Fem!Reader (Human), meet-cute fluff! | Warnings: alcohol, mild language | Setting: AU w/o Mera endgame, before The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 3,468

Edit: here's my Orm Marius x Reader fic for my fellow Orm girlies ;)

Gif credit: user jasonmomoaonline

Imagine Arthur giving you shelter when you're stranded in a storm, and discovering his true identity

Getting stood up for your date had been the worst part of the night, until the moment you got into your car. Instead of the engine turning over and sputtering to half-life like usual, it only stalled.

"You have got to be kidding me," you say, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key until you thought it might snap, "Come on, come on, come ON!"

Throwing open your door, you pop the hood and stumble back out into the chilled night. You mutter curses under your breath as you survey the labyrinth of steel and hoses before you.

"At least nothing's on fire this time," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

You step back and stare at the bucket of bolts the salesman had called "like new." Besides coming to this bar, buying this car was quite possibly your biggest regret. It wasn't quite a lemon, but it wasn't a Rolls either. And most of all, it was all you could afford.

You exhale, glaring up at the flickering light of the bar's neon sign. The last thing you wanted to do after waiting nearly two hours alone like a fool was show your face inside again. You retrieve your phone from your back pocket, just to see the blinking bars in the top corner. No service.

"Wonderful," you groan.

Like a bad joke, thunder rolls in the distance. You look up to see the lightning flashing on the horizon across the bay. The brisk, salt air rises up from the water and cuts right through you.

"Could this night get any better?!" you lament, an angry shriek escaping your lips as you kick the front tire.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice from behind interjected.

You jump and turn to see a man approaching, nervous smile on his bearded face. You appraise him wearily: tall, dark, and not at all lacking in style, clad in both leather and jewelry. He looked a sight better than the drunken fishermen you'd observed stumble about the bar, which you concluded was about ninety-percent of the clientele. Even from where he stood, he certainly seemed to smell better.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but you sound like you might need some help," he offers hesitantly.

Despite your initial scare, something about him puts you at ease.

"Oh, um...yeah, actually" you smile embarrassed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "My stupid car won't start. Again."

"Mind if I take a look?" he asks, pointing.

"Would you? That would be great, honestly," you say, folding your arms against the cold, "I just had it in the shop last week. I have no idea what's wrong now."

He pats the fender as he circles around to the front, "Let's see what's got you all clammed up here, buddy."

"Your guess is as good as mine," you say exasperated, stepping to stand behind him a ways.

He chuckles and pushes up his sleeves, ducking underneath the hood. You take note of the intricate tattoos, realizing this friendly stranger was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Hmm, nope. Not that," he says, craning his neck, "Not that either."

You bite your lip and sway on your feet, silently praying he could find the source of the problem. Any easy fix was probably too much to hope for, but your fingers stayed mentally crossed nonetheless.

"Ooh, maybe- no, definitely not," he says, followed by a clinking sound, "That should not be there."

"I really appreciate this," you say after a moment, peering over his shoulder, "I can change the wipers and put on a spare if I have to, but that's about the extent of my car expertise."

"No shame in that," he grunts, his voice strained, "Oof, now that might be a problem."

"Did you find something?" you dare to ask.

"These spark plugs are kaput. Like, 'not even a necromancer can bring them back' kind of kaput."

"The guy said they were fine!" you exclaim, "I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that place. Probably just took my money and laughed."

The man finally stands up and winces.

"And your alternator is on its last leg," he says with a grimace, "Even if you could get it to start, I wouldn't go more than five miles in this thing."

"Great. That's just wonderful," you sigh, shaking your head, "Well, thank you for looking. It'd have taken me forever to figure that out. Google only goes so far."

"No problem, wish I had better news for ya," he says, wiping his grease-tinged hands on his jeans before extending one towards you, "I'm Arthur, by the way."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur."

"Nice to meet you too."

Despite your frustration, you couldn't help but grin. As Good Samaritans go, he was quite a handsome one. Something in the back of your mind whispered that you had seen his face before, but you couldn't place when or where.

Before you could speak again, a bolt of lightning strikes just across the harbor, followed swiftly by a crash of thunder.

Arthur looks off to the darkened horizon, his expression souring with concern.

"Storm's coming in fast," he observes, the sea breeze blowing through his long, sun-kissed hair, "Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?"

He turn back to you, and only now do you notice just how rich and golden eyes his eyes are. For a few dizzied seconds, you forget to answer.

"Uh, not really. I'm pretty new to the area. I don't know very many people," you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden, "I can just call a Uber or something. If my service ever picks up."

"Yeah, definitely," he nods, clearing his throat, "They have a phone inside."

"Thank you again for helping me, Arthur," you say, starting to walk towards the door.

"I didn't really help, though..." he trails off, disappointment in his voice as you step past him.

Your hand is almost on the handle when he pipes up.

"Uh, look I know you don't know me, but my dad's place is just down the road from here. He's the lighthouse keeper. Him and my mom are actually away on little retreat, and I'm watching the place for them," he explains, "It's dry, warm, and definitely has a lot less drunk guys. You could wait there while the storm passes, if you wanted."

You turn back to him, trying to conceal your renewed hope, "I couldn't impose on you like that."

"Oh you wouldn't be. It's just me and the dog. He's probably getting sick of me at this point. He could use a visitor," he chuckles, "But I understand if you'd rather stay here. Strange guy at a bar invites you to a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night. Sounds like a horror movie, I know."

You laugh, and so does he, bringing some much needed levity.

"I'll bring you right back if you change your mind, just say the word," he adds, sounding truly sincere.

Almost everything in you was saying not to trust a man you'd just met, but your gut was telling you otherwise. There was more to the warmth in his eyes than just the color.

"Well, it does sound like the dog could use some company," you say thoughtfully.

Arthur smirks. "Oh yeah. There's been a Hell's Kitchen marathon on for days, and I'm pretty sure he's sick of listening to my Gordon Ramsay impression. I can't resist, love that guy."

"I might have to hear that for myself."

"Let's get you out of this weather, and we'll see what I can do about that, then," he says with a wink, "My ride is just over here."

Not even the chilled wind could overcome the warmth of your cheeks. The excitement in your chest grows with every step as you follow him across the sandy lot. The ride in question, however, soon comes into view, and the knot in your stomach tightens all the more.

"Oh boy," you say, staring at the motorcycle.

"You're not scared of bikes are you?" he questions, stepping alongside it and reaching into the black saddlebag.

"Not exactly," you hesitate, "I've just never been on one before."

He pulls out a red, half helmet and offers it to you.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall off," he replies, amused.

You look between him and the headgear a moment before taking it.

"Besides," he says, swinging his leg over the seat, "All you have to do is hang on."

With no argument to make, and rain drops beginning to sprinkle down, you pull your hair back and fasten the helmet on. You nearly lose your balance trying to throw your leg over, having to grab his shoulder to steady yourself. He didn't seem to mind; you could have sworn you heard him snicker. You settle into the seat, heart racing from being so close to him. More anxious than ever, you lightly place your hands on his back.

"All good back there?" Arthur asks, a smile in his voice.

"All good," you repeat, unconvincingly.

"Alright then," he says, turning the key.

Seconds later, the motorcycle roars to life as he revs the engine. Arthur eases the bike back slowly, pivots out of the lot, and eases it up to the main road. The instant he accelerates, the force kicks you backward. You throw your arms around his torso, pulling yourself against him. Over the noise of the machine, you weren't sure if the rumbling in your ear that followed was thunder or laughter, but you figured was the latter.

With the bar now behind you, and the rain coming down harder with the increasing speed, you bury your face into his back and hold on tightly.

♆

The lighthouse comes into view just as the skies open up. Arthur maneuvers the bike up the slippery, sand driveway and quickly shuts it off. He gives you his hand as you climb off and leads you toward the house.

The helmet offers some protection from the downpour, but the wind blows the spray into your face as you squint to see. Lightning above illuminates the world like daylight as you scramble up onto the porch.

Arthur throws the front door open and lets you in first as you stumble inside the dark house. You take a few blind steps forward as he slams it shut behind him, thunder making the windows rattle.

"Man, someone must have really pissed off Thor," he laughs. His relief, however, is turned to exasperation as you hear a clicking sound followed by a sigh.

"Power's out. Awesome."

Still trying to catch your breath, you pull out your phone, struggling with wet fingers to use touchscreen. Finally the flashlight turns on, and Arthur throws his hand up over his eyes as you accidentally shine it right at his face.

"Sorry," you pant, pointing it down.

"No worries. That's a good idea, actually. I always forget about this thing," he remarks, grabbing his own phone and doing the same, "One second, I think Pops has some candles in the kitchen."

You nod as he disappears into the next room. Now remembering the dripping helmet on your head, you release the strap with your free hand and set it down on the mat beside the door. A shiver goes through you from your soaked clothes. You point your phone about the shadowy room to get your bearings, admiring the otherwise cozy living area. As you sweep the light downward, something large and metallic glints on the coffee table in front of the sofa and catches your eye. You move closer to get a better look, and then your heart drops to your feet. Lying beside a bag of jerky and the TV remote is a massive, gleaming trident of gold. A memory flashes through your mind of an article you'd seen weeks ago, with a fuzzy photo of an alleged aquatic hero holding a weapon just like it. The pieces come together all at once as you realize the identity of your host.

The very next second, you hear Arthur's approach. He returns with a lit candle in each hand and a blanket under his arm, only to find your expression of complete and utter shock.

"You...you're..." you stammer.

"Oof, I knew I forgot to put something away," he cringes, "My bad."

"You're the Aquaman," you gape, finding the words.

"Surprise," he says in a sing-song voice, flashing a nervous smile, "Yeah, I never really know how to bring that up.

You stare at him dumbfounded as he places the candles on the coffee table. "I can't believe it. Aren't you supposed to be like...well, in Atlantis or something?"

"I was, earlier this morning. Just about died of boredom in council meetings," he says matter-of-factly, proceeding to talk as if he had a desk job, "I'm kinda part-timing right now, between land and sea. It's complicated. I'm still new to the whole 'king' thing. Don't have all the kinks worked out yet."

"I'd imagine," you breathe, your mind still reeling.

"Here, figured you need this." He holds out the blanket, completely unphased by the previous subject, "Do you drink tea? I can make some for you."

You take the blanket and chuckle in bewilderment. "Um, sure. That would be great," you answer, "Thank you."

"One tea coming up," he smiles, "Uh, just make yourself comfortable, I'll get the fire going here a minute, after I find the dog. Pretty sure he's hiding under Pops' bed upstairs. He's terrified of storms. Ironic right? Lighthouse keeper's dog afraid of a little water."

"I don't blame him this time," you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, "I think you were right about Thor."

As if on cue, another boom of thunder shakes the walls. You both burst out laughing.

♆

A few minutes later, you find yourself sitting on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a warm mug in your hands, finally beginning to feel dry. Having been unsuccessful in coaxing the dog into joining him downstairs, Arthur settles down beside you crossed-legged, damp hair tied up, trading the tea for a can of Guinness. Your thoughts rage like the storm outside as you stare into the flames, agonizing about what you should say.

Arthur speaks a moment later, saving you the trouble.

"Sorry about the power. I'll call you that cab as soon as it comes back."

"That's okay, I'm not in a hurry," you reply.

You look over at him hopefully, meeting his piercing gaze for as long as you can. Mere seconds pass before you bow your head, heart racing while you repress a smile.

"I'm uh, sure you've got some questions about all this," he ventures, rubbing the back of his head.

"Honestly, with the night I've had, meeting 'Aquaman' is par for the course," you smirk.

"I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I guess you can understand why I don't lead with the whole King of Atlantis thing. Kinda makes it hard to keep a conversation going once people know you 'can talk to fish.' They don't really see you the same after that."

"Yeah, I think I'd probably keep that to myself too," you agree, the awe returning full-force, "Still, it must be amazing. I mean, you're basically ruler of the ocean, right? Or is it just Atlantis?"

"Eh, I mean there's the other kingdoms-"

"There's more?!" you blurt out, wide-eyed.

"Oh yeah. Xebel, the Fishermen, the Brine, a couple of defunct ones no one wants talks about. We got a few."

"And you're the ruler over all of them?"

He shrugs. "More or less. I mean, they each have their own ruler. But then I'm also over them? Kinda? I'm still figuring crap out, they didn't exactly give me a rule book on my first day. Plus I have answer to this royal council and they've got sticks up their butts about everything I do and say," he groans, rolling his eyes, "I like to consider myself more of a 'protector of the deep' than a ruler. Sounds more cool, and less like an old fart with a crown."

You giggle, hanging on every his every word.

"And with this bad boy right here," he says, reaching behind him and patting the trident, "I command all life in the sea. The animals anyway. Between you and me, that's the best part."

"You definitely have a cooler job than me," you beam.

"It definitely has its perks. But most of the time, I'd rather be here," he sighs, punctuated by a swig of his beer.

A visible sadness washes over him as he looks into the fire.

"You aren't from Atlantis?" you question.

"No, I was raised by my father. My parents met on accident. My mother was queen of Atlantis, and she ran away from her not-so-nice guy fiancé. She got lost in a storm, and my father rescued her. They've always said it was..."

Arthur stops and turns his gaze towards you, realization in his eyes.

Your heart skips as you understand. "Fate?"

He nods thoughtfully. "Something like that."

You blink, letting him go on.

"Anyway, I know I have a calling to the sea, but the land is always going to be a part of me, you know?" His expression softens. "Here, I've always found everything I need."

His words linger in the air between you. You look down at your hands, your chest pounding.

He clears his throat. "Sorry, I know that was a lot of info."

"Just a little bit," you reply teasingly, "But your secret's safe with me, Arthur. I promise. I've got no one to tell anyway."

"Don't worry, I trust you," he says, waving his hand, "It's actually nice to have someone else to share it with."

"I'm honored that you did. I know it's not the same, but I do understand what it's like to feel that you don't belong," you confess, "I didn't fit in my 'kind' either. Moved out here to start over. I guess you could say I'm still trying to figure some crap out too."

He pauses in thought second before responding, "Do you mind if I ask you something, Y/N?"

"After everything I've asked you? I'd say it's definitely your turn," you chuckle, taking a sip of your forgotten tea.

"I saw you at the bar before you went outside. I couldn't help but notice that you were there by yourself..."

"You noticed correctly. I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but after saying he was on his way, he never showed. I tried to text him, but he blocked me. I don't even know why."

"Nothing like being stood up at some backwater bar," he concludes, frowning, "Well, screw that guy. He's a bum."

"Yeah, I figured that out too late," you agree, then give him a knowing look, "The evening wasn't a total loss. I did meet you, after all."

"That's true," he concedes, playfully stroking his beard, "I may be a half-breed rookie king, but I'm not a bum."

You snort and gesture to the television set on your right, "So much for your marathon though, huh?"

"Ah, that's alright. They were all re-runs anyway."

You raise your eyebrow. "Think I could still hear that impression?"

He holds a finger to his chin in mock deliberation, "Hmmm, have I had enough to drink for that?

"I don't know, have you?" You lean in with anticipation.

He flashes a sly grin. "Of course I bloody have," he declares in the most hackneyed attempt at a British accent you'd ever heard, "And you better listen up, because I'm about to tell you everything there is to know about how to cook a bloody good flounder."

Your sides ache with laughter as he continues to go on a tangent about how to properly sauté shallots and season the perfect demi-glace. The voice sounded nothing like the infamously tempermental chef, of course, but you still thought his attempt was cute. By the time he was yelling at his invisible staff for serving him raw fish, the storm outside had passed, and neither of you noticed.

As Arthur went to light the stove to warm up some "gourmet" SpaghettiOs, still boisterously carrying on as Chef Ramsay, your excited thoughts returned to the story about his parents. You couldn't help but wonder about your own stormy night, the man you had met, and how much of a hand fate had played in it. The horizon seemed so much brighter than before, and for the first time ever, you were grateful to have bought that car.

#arthur curry x reader #aquaman x reader #aquaman imagine #arthur curry imagine #aquaman and the lost kingdom #jason momoa #arthur curry #aquaman 2 #aquaman fanfic #my writing #request

[spinningwebsandtales]

Vita Nova

Orm Marius X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Spoilers, mentions of death, crying, hurt/comfort, reader has some trauma, suggestive themes, angst, and fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

Fic Swap with @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) Happy (belated) New Year everyone! And my first fic of 2024 and it turned out to be a whopper! My lovely best friend and I just adore the Aquaman movies and in light of the new movie that dropped around Christmas we decided to do a ficswap together! This bad boy is my contribution and you lucky readers get to read it! I hope I can make the other Orm fangirls happy with this as I honestly had way too much fun writing it as you can see! Over 4,000 words of just Orm goodness! I look forward of sharing more writings in this new year and I'm glad I could open up with this! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Reader's POV is in italics.

SPOILERS FOR AQUAMAN AND THE LOST KINGDOM BELOW

DO NOT CONTINUE AHEAD IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE THE MOVIE!

Orm stood upon the beach, his toes buried in the warm sand as the setting sun painted his features in orange and pink hues. His heart longed for Atlantis once more as homesickness always reared it's ugly head when he was feeling alone. While tension still remained between him and his older brother, deep down he was grateful for Arthur, giving him a new chance at life. With Atlantis finally revealing themselves to the people of the land, he no longer had to be so secretive about himself, except when it came to Atlanteans. He had burned too many bridges that most likely would never have the chance to be rebuilt. He sighed deeply as the warm salty foam washed over his feet.

Orm turned, leaving his regrets and longing to drown in the crashing waves. While he could see why his brother loved the land dwelling humans, Orm normally avoided them as much as he could. Especially when it came to his time on the beach, he rather not be bothered. And despite the world knowing, he still swam in deserted parts of the beaches he visited. His favorite places were around the docks where the shade kept him cool and various sea creatures stuck around. The fish and small crabs made him feel a little less lonely and made everything feel more like home.

Orm's bare feet padded against the planks of the dock as he tugged his shirt over his head. The breeze rippled his blond locks and whispered promises of a good evening swim. His vision staying straight ahead, Orm was preparing to run and dive into the bright blue water when a yelp caused him to stumble and he fell to the dock. He almost slid off when a slender hand caught his wrist and kept him from rolling off and slamming into a boat.

"Are you okay?!"

A feminine voice had him blinking against the pain in his skull before he finally got his eyes to focus. Orm sat up quickly, backing away from the woman looking at him with genuine concern. It was an emotion Orm was unacquainted with.

"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention," the woman blushed getting to her feet and brushing the front of her shirt and shorts off. A quick flash of annoyance had him glaring before Orm sucked in a deep breath and calmed the raging tide threatening to overtake him. She offered him a hand up and old him would have swatted it away with a snarl, but new him remembered his older brother and took her offered hand. She shuffled her feet before him awkwardly, refusing to look up in embarrassment. Though Orm was worried he was intimidating her, though he wasn't trying at the moment.

"Sorry again," she apologized once more only to break the silent tension between them.

"I wasn't paying attention," it was the most polite thing he could say. "Though I can't help but ask. Why were you laying across the dock?"

Her cheeks flushed bright crimson, a pretty red color, and now she really refused to look up at him, more interested in her bare feet. This in turn made Orm feel more awkward, like he had pushed across some threshold that he should have never even touched.

"You'll laugh," she mumbled. Her gaze quickly darting up towards him before once again looking away. When she noticed that he wasn't going to say anything else her shoulders sagged in defeat.

"I like watching the fish. They feel like they're my friends and they're so peaceful living their lives without a care in the world," she whispered. "I've also always dreamed about Atlantis and going there and now that it is truly real I can't help but long for it even more. Silly huh?"

Orm shook his head and smiled remembering his home fondly, "No it's not. I think it's a wonderful dream."

Though home always brought a smile to his face, in this moment of his life it brought a pang of sadness with it. One mistake had taken his chance of ever seeing that beautiful city ever again. And here he just met a mere human upon an empty dock longing for the same as him. Maybe he had more in common with the humans of this side of the world than he had first realized. She smiled and nodded, happy to have someone not laugh at her for a change. She walked away moments later leaving him to ponder upon the dock as the waves whispered softly against the sand. Then Orm dived in.

Usually Orm moved around a lot. If he liked a place more than others he'd normally stay for a few days. But for reasons he didn't want to know he had stayed in this particular spot for weeks. And it wasn't because the food was anything extraordinary nor was the beach one of the most beautiful he's seen. If he dug down deep inside he knew it was because of that one moment, where he had seen a glimpse of that beautiful humanity that Arthur was always talking about to him. So Orm did what every normal man would do, he kept his distance and watched her from afar. She visited the dock he had found her at nightly, just to talk to the fish and to watch the sun set behind the horizon of the ocean. She would hum tunes, almost stroking the water with her gentle hands. She would hide sometimes as people would come to the beach calling out a name he had never heard. What would shatter his heart more than anything was when she would come some nights crying. His heart would clench as her salty tears dropped into the ocean. He shook his head fighting the urge to go towards her. But she was different, she wanted to know his world, that she had no idea he was from. That he had once been a prince, let alone a king of that world but it didn't matter, not anymore. He was dead to that world and he had to find his place in this one.

It didn't take many times of him watching the lone girl sob on the dock before Orm concocted a plan. Atlantean technology to help humans make the trip undersea had yet to be brought to them. Except for the scuba gear the humans already had invented, but Orm wanted his plan to be perfect. So he would do something that would make his older brother proud and possibly bring an end to his life. To get what he needed he would have to venture back to the Sunken Citadel and hope that the pirates that still lived didn't kill him at first glance.

You didn't know what kept bringing you back to this particular beach, though you had a inkling that it was in false hope of finding that same blond haired man that you had tripped. He was a complete stranger and yet you found yourself hoping to see him once more. So every night you came, no matter how bad things got at home you escaped bringing yourself to this little place of serenity, hoping, waiting, that you would see him again. But every night became a disappointment, though you enjoyed seeing the fish. The sun quickly set seeping the warmth from the Earth but the ocean water still held those waning rays of warmth. The lights of the dock quickly blinked on illuminating the surrounding water so you could still watch the fish swim peacefully by. You hummed a quiet tune as the waves lapped against the barnacle crusted wooden posts. A shadow darted by causing you to suck in a quick breath. Sharks would sometimes come up or a curious dolphin but this creature was too fast to be one of them. Your heartbeat quickened but against your better judgement you stuck your hand back down along with your head, trying to find this mystery that had suddenly come upon you.

Orm had a difficult time in the Sunken Citadel and he had gotten into a few brawls, but he did get what he searched for. It had cost him, but if his well thought out plan worked as well as he hoped, it would all be worth it. He made his way back to the normal spot and he had timed his return just right. As his mystery woman he had begun to adore made her way out onto the normal dock. She was light on her feet and she greeted some of the boatmen, who were leaving, politely before going to her same spot Orm could always find her. She stuck a hand in the water tracing the patterns of the fish below as they swam close to the surface. She had a small content grin on her face as she enjoyed the creatures below the surface. Orm moved his arms slower, trying to keep from interrupting this moment as he was more than happy to watch her for a little while. She hummed a tune while tucking strands of untamable hair behind her ear, only for a breeze to send them back to fluttering. He sucked in a breath letting the peace of her presence wash over him. And then he went under the surface and swam close by and quickly. He heard her gasp and he grinned to himself. He could have a moments fun at her expense, especially with the gift he was bringing her. Despite not knowing what he was she braved the unknown and he had to admire that about her. She was proving his theory of humans being a cowardly race wrong every moment he watched her.

You searched timidly for any sign of the shadow you had seen. Your eyes darting across the eerily still waters. You were about to pull yourself back up onto the dock when an arm breached the water and grabbed onto your wrist. You screamed yanking yourself backwards and the person attached to the hand around you came up with your panicked movements.

Orm laughed loudly at your terrified face while he treaded the water. He had never been one to play tricks as he had been trained as a prince of Atlantis, but he found it quite fun. The woman he had yet to put a name to a face laid on her back panting, trying to regain some form of control.

"Why did you do that," she screeched once she finally found her breath.

"Think of it as payback for making me fall on my face the first time we met," Orm smirked as he lifted himself from the water easily.

She took in the fact quickly that his upper torso was bare and the form fitting pants only seemed tighter by the fact that they were dripping water everywhere. She looked away, pink coming to her cheeks.

"You come out here every night," Orm said after a few moments of awkward silence.

Her head whipped around and her eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know that? I never see you around!" Those moments of wishing to see him again, hoping he'd be around, and he had been hidden from her the entire time.

"I was," Orm paused. He knew he couldn't just tell her that he had been watching her from afar. But he didn't want to lie. "I was swimming."

"Swimming?" Now she was suspicious of him. As she rightly should, though they had already met once he was still a stranger.

"I'm a decent swimmer." Understatement of the century Orm thought to himself.

"I can see that," she gestured towards him before darting her gaze away once more.

Orm chuckled. He liked that little of color that would pop up in her skin. He found it endearing and despite himself his heart began to pick up speed. He offered out a hand and she glanced at it warily.

"I'm Orm," he offered in greeting. "Orm Marius. I should have introduced myself that first day we met."

She laughed, taking his offered hand. "(Y/N). And I should have thought of it too. But I did almost make you faceplant into the water. Though it seems like it wouldn't have bothered you so bad if you had."

Orm shook her hand, reveling in how smaller it was compared to his. "Do you mean to tell me that you wish you had let me fallen into the water now? Instead of rescuing me?"

"Well after you just basically scared the daylights out of me, yes."

Orm pouted playfully, "And here I brought you a gift."

"A gift?!" Once again those beautiful colored eyes glowed in delight. It sent his heart a flutter and he could have sworn it skipped a beat. Is this what his mother had possibly felt when she looked upon the man that fathered Arthur?

"I think I am rather partial to it now," he teased. "Maybe I will just keep it for myself."

"You can't just say that you brought me a gift and then keep it for yourself. That's mean," she whined.

Orm couldn't keep stringing her along though he was finding it fun just to get a rise out of her. He brought the gift from behind his back and he wasn't expecting her to jump up and down. Her confusion was to be expected and he found himself grinning once more. She was so expressive, he found it endearing.

"Your dream of seeing Atlantis stuck out to me and their technology is above what your people have. I wanted to show you a part of that life even if it is just a small glimpse."

He was revealing himself. His heart was almost leaping out of his chest. He had kept his identity a secret, revealing nothing to the humans he had contact with. She would be the first and he didn't know what to do if she didn't accept. She placed her hands on the oxygen helmet, a question on her lips. But without a word he once more grabbed onto her wrist and lead her to the end of the dock. She wordlessly tugged the pirated good on her head and with no hesitation followed Orm into the water.

Orm dived down, keeping a good grasp on her hand, their fingers interlaced as he didn't want to hurt her by tugging on her joints by the speed he could swim at. The oxygen mask was working like a dream and despite the time of the evening the moon was doing a good job of lighting the sea life below the ocean. She gasped in awe at the sea creatures and plant life below. But mostly she gaped at him.

"You are," she hesitated saying the word.

Orm nodded. "I am."

You absolutely couldn't believe your eyes. A true Atlantean. It was everything that you could have ever dreamed of and as he kept you from floating away this moment was more than you could have ever dreamed of.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Orm didn't want anything left unsaid. This was his chance. His chance to be himself and to stop being so alone in this world that he was learning more about every day. His time in Atlantis was done and now he was going to have to start anew. Maybe you were that new chance that he had been needing for a long time.

"It's okay," she answered. Her voice muffled in the helmet. Fish swam by coming near to Orm, pecking at his arm. He shooed them away gently causing her to laugh. "You don't have to explain yourself. We had just met that day and even at this moment we are still basically strangers. But I'm glad I met you Orm and your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," he choked. Gratitude had been lost on him long ago but as he looked at this young woman, so genuine and beautiful in his eyes, that feeling was no longer a stranger. "Would you like to see more of my world?"

"Absolutely!" No hesitation and no fear. Orm kept her close, keeping her safe as he swam them further out into the sea.

Back on dry land you couldn't believe what your eyes had beheld. The world under was far beyond anything you could have ever imagined as Orm helped steady you. Spending that much time in the water had left your legs a little wobbly and you glared at Orm walking perfectly though he did have to take a moment to cough up water. You held out the helmet towards him but he shook his head pushing it back into your chest.

"Keep it," Orm insisted. "I want to take you out more now that you have it. There's so much more I wish to show and tell you. I hope that you don't mind."

She shook her head, stepping towards him. "I would like that so much."

Without a second thought she embraced him, squeezing Orm tightly before backing away, that familiar blush coming back to her cheeks. Reaching out Orm brushed a stray droplet of sea water off her cheek.

"Until tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded quickly.

Days had followed that moment before it had turned into weeks. Orm met with her daily, the helmet in tow every time as they explored together. She the underwater world he had grew up in and him emotions never before explored. Orm knew he couldn't take her far below the surface as he wished. He was trying his best to get a suit that would keep her from being crushed by the water pressure or freezing from the depths, but it would take some time. The helmet was easy to obtain, well easier than the suit. But she didn't complain nor did she beg him for more. Always content with their outings he began to realize that he looked forward to every second they spent together every day. It didn't take Orm long to figure out the emotions he was feeling and everything seemed to fall into place. She was beginning to swim closer to him as every day passed. Gentle touches and encounters that would leave her in awe and him trying to not overstep his bounds.

She swam closer keeping to his side as the day began to wan and like everything good in life their time together was ending that day. Orm always took his time bringing them both back to shore whenever it was time to head back in. She never seemed to be in a hurry herself and it had Orm wondering on things that he couldn't ask her when they first me. He wondered why she came by herself every day and those moments she had hid on the dock as several people had come searching, yelling her name. He wondered at the days that she had came crying as if she could no longer smile. And now that he had gotten to know her more it was something he could no longer keep himself from asking about.

Back on shore she removed the helmet and rung the sea water from her hair. Orm stayed near as he gathered up the courage to ask her. He was about to ask her about something she had yet to give up willingly and he didn't want to cause her to shut him out. He honestly didn't know if he could take losing her. He breathed in deeply gathering up all his courage, he stepped closer and grasped onto her shoulder to gain her attention and steady himself. She grinned up at him before it fell at the seriousness in his blue eyes.

"What is it," she asked covering his hand with hers that still laid upon her shoulder.

"Why do you come to the docks every day? And why do you hide from the people that call out to you and cry on some days?"

There he asked and he felt faint as she looked down at the waves lapping at their bare feet.

"You saw those moments too?" She whispered.

"I did," Orm confessed. " I've come to care for you these past few weeks and I can't help my curiosity getting the best of me. Knowing that you hurt or have any reason to hide is too much for me to bear."

She paused for a moment, gathering her strength. "I was in a bad relationship. I got out of it but the pain is still there and some days are worse than others. I find peace out here and that's why I always come and then I met you. And despite me telling you why that day, you didn't laugh at me like he and several other people did. I was really glad. You made me happy. Part of me was hoping that I'd get to see you again and yet I was afraid of getting hurt again too."

"That was brave," Orm cooed bringing her into his arms. He was warm despite the lack of shirt and all the time spent in the water. She shook from the cold and from telling things that had been hard on her. "You're the bravest and kindest person I have ever met."

"I'm not really," she answered.

"You really are," Orm breathed. "I'm the coward. I didn't like this part of the world at all. I tried to destroy it because of my older brother. I blamed him for a lot of things and I hated him. I still don't love him as a little brother should but my hatred cost me. I was prince of Atlantis once and I was even it's king for a short spell. But that was taken from me and now I am thought of as dead. I cannot go back there because I have officially been killed in action." Orm sucked in a deep breath as he feared what you would do now that you knew about his darkness, though he kept going. "This is both my punishment and my new life. This is both my brother's way of blessing me and cursing me. But I don't see it as a curse anymore, not that I know you now."

"Orm," she sniffled.

He tugged her in, her trembling body pressed to his as he tried to will any form of comfort into her smaller body. He felt lighter and more at peace than he had ever felt and while she held onto him tightly, Orm lost the battle on his emotional restraints. Holding her out he took in the sight of her, clearly seeing everything about her for the first time. And for the first time in his life, he felt truly loved. Not for being royalty of Atlantis or because they had to. Genuine love that asked for nothing in return. He leaned down towards her his stature always towering over her and it wasn't until his lips met her warmer ones did the fireworks start shooting off in his head. She didn't shove him away and she didn't protest so Orm pulled her closer. Deepening the kiss as he could taste the salty water still on her mouth and the scent of the ocean breeze on her skin. In that moment she was everything to him and he could want for nothing else as long as she stayed. She cupped his cheek, stroking his skin before Orm finally pulled away. His chest heaved and he couldn't bring himself to give her up just yet. He continued to hold her against his chest, not ever wanting this moment to end.

"Is it okay that we start a new life together," her voice quivered in uncertainty. She felt like she was going too fast or overstepping her bounds.

"I think I would like that more than you know," he agreed. This was when his life started. That new beginning he wanted for so long, that he dreamed about in that prison cell. This was the moment he longed for and had no idea. That moment he met her had been fate and had lead him to this moment. Their days together didn't have to end when their feet touched the shore, it was only the start of something on the shore. While he was her guide in the water, here on the land and in the midst of people it was her turn to guide him. She took his hand, taking the responsibility for teaching and leading in stride. They would learn together what this life meant and what it meant to know each other and keep together through thick and thin. Orm had baggage and come to find out she did too. But Orm didn't see that, he saw a woman who could light his way. She saw a man that had found redemption and was looking for a way to claim it. The sun had set behind them on the beach but the dawn was rising before them as they left hand in hand towards the life they would find together. Like two ships destined for each other, a new life was just beginning.

#Orm Marius X Reader #Orm Marius / Reader #Aquaman #Orm Marius Imagine #Aquaman Imagine #Orm Marius Fanfiction #Orm Marius #DC Universe #Not My Gif #My Writing

[yaut-jaknowit]

Gonna have to fly in here on the speed of light atp😭 I had an idea after me and my duo were brainstorming. Where like the reader dies, but their consciousness gets put into an android instead (like from the game Detroit Become Human) and he doesn’t remember who his mate is anymore and has to regain his memories. Brain creativity is wild. (Don’t even ask how long I had this sitting and ready to be sent)

Lost Your Mind

Pairing: Pel (Male Yautja) x Cyborg!Reader

Word Count: 2778

Summary: Cream-colored ceilings are the first thing you see when waking up from nothing. You have no memories of who or where you are. When a large humanoid creature comes into the room, your first instinct is to freak out.

Author Note: You're lucky you were able to come in here so quickly, but even then, there was a few before you. This was definitely different than any I've written. I hope it's up to code for you!

Masterlist

Ao3

Slow, bogged down. It felt like an uphill climb to get your brain to boot up. Your eyelids slid back to reveal a bland cream-colored ceiling. It took twice the amount of strength to push yourself into a sitting position.

The room filled with strange trinkets all revolving around bones and weapons meant for hunts. It piqued your interest.

Soft pelts slipped from your skin and back onto the bed. You stood up from the bed and promptly closed onto your knees. Pain did not come. Confusion filled your thoughts as you stayed knelt on the ground and looked at your hands.

Gun metal grey filled your vision. Something was off.

A door sliding open had your head whipping up. There stood a figure your brain couldn’t supply the name, only the species. Yautja. A strong, lethal species not to be crossed with. Known for their hunting prowess and ability to take down prey five times their size with little effort. You inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes widening.

There was no open chance of escape if this figure meant harm. That door was the only entrance and exit. You gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling the softer metal scrap underneath dull teeth. All you could do was stay knelt on the ground, unable to find your way to your feet.

The alien figure was swift to enter your space and dropped to its knees before you. Coarse, scaly palms cupped your cheeks in a soft, gentle manner.

Your brows drew together. This wasn’t a normal behavior of a Yautja. Not the way your brain was able to supply so quickly on the thought. Ah, wait, the honor code. Maybe that’s why.

Then, it called your name in a sweet tone. It knew your name but you didn’t even know who or why they are here. Wait, where is here? Why are you here? A headache began to grow in your head. Or well, what felt like one. Like strange pressure that didn’t necessarily hurt but slow down your train of thought.

“You’re awake. I’m so glad you’re awake,” the Yautja cooed at you in tone they were never known for. You titled your head slightly in his hands and raised a brow.

“Who are you?”

Dead silence. Such a silence that allowed you to hear the beat of your heart thundering in your ears. To hear the stuttering beat from the alien before you. His hands added a hint of pressure that almost had you worried it was going to attack.

But it never did.

A whine. A pathetic, nearly dog like whine sounded from its throat. “No,” it whispered in the quiet air, finally breaking the silence. “No. No!” It was a cry of desperation. For what reason? You had no clue. You didn’t know who this was. Why should you care about their feelings?

“Can you let go of my face? This is kind of getting weird,” you muttered and tried to pull away from its firm grip. Hurt flashed in its bright eyes before its hold on you finally released you. Fingers ghosted over your skin then fell away to its sides.

The alien stayed knelt before you, corded muscles tense. You cleared your throat and make a quick show of glancing around. “You didn’t answer my first question.” The creature flinched and slightly bowed its massive head. Was this thing even a Yautja? It surely didn’t act like one with all these submissive actions. Your eyes narrowed on it.

All four of its short but sharp mandibles twitched. Like a nervous tick.

If you could, you would make your way to your feet and put some distance. The knowledge your brain simply supplied about this species was not how it was acting. It made you anxious, unsure if this one had some sort of disease.

“You don’t know me?” it whispered the question. Your brows scrunched together, lips pursing.

A shake of your head simply answered it.

It took a sharp intake then bowed its head. The strange-tresses. They help with sensing pressure and… sexual actions. Your face burned when your brain came up with this information. You shook your head and refocused on it in front of you.

The short tresses created a curtain on either side of its head while it lost eye contact with you. A part deep in your mind nearly surfaced: the need to comfort the saddened creature. You brushed it off and stayed glued to the ground. “Again, who are you? Where am I? What… what is happening?” Questions spilled from your lips.

For a minute moment, you glanced around the dim room and found it nothing of norm. Skulls of different creatures your brain instantly knew when looking at them lined two of the walls. Trophies that Yautjas hunted. Predators winning trophies. Some of said skulls were of humans… human. You were human? Why was that a question?

You inspected your hands again. They weren’t organic material. You rubbed your index and thumb pads together. Metal. The material that made up your hands was metal but the longer you looked, your gaze dragged up your arms. All metal. Smooth, skin tone metal encased your limbs. Your legs too.

Human no more.

A shrill shriek pierced your lungs. You attempted to rise to a stand but your legs failed to hold any weight still. Instead, you scrambled away from the Yautja and began to pant.

Uncoherent words jumbled their way from your metal lips. Your back pressed to the edge of the low bed behind you. Hands that weren’t yours, made with material that wasn’t organic, gripped at your head.

The same rough textured hands grasped at your wrists and pulled them away. A deep purr rolled through the air. You felt yourself beginning to soften in the hold before going slacken on the bed frame. It poke uncomfortably into your back but that was the least of my worries.

Finally, you raised your gaze to meet those piercing eyes that, dare you say, felt familiar. “What am I? What happened?” you cried, still panting as if you ran a marathon.

The Yautja sagged, grip loosening but not enough to release you. Not that you minded. All you wanted was some answers.

So many questions sprung to life inside of your mind. Was it even yours? Doubt and anxiety filled your no longer human frame.

It sat down on the metal ground before you and sat with its legs crossed. Well, less of an it now and more of a he. The males are smaller than the females. This one was average size of a male. You hated the fact you knew this more from a dictionary feeling than knowledge. Like you were reading this from a book than already knowing this internally.

“I’m sorry, I-they… they thought you would still have your memories. It was only a small chance you wouldn’t, but I still took the risk. Just to keep you,” he spilled and moved your hands to your lap while keep a hold on them.

This only caused the pressure inside of your head to worsen. Anger flashed to life inside of you. “What happened?!” you yelled at him, demanding an explanation for this. For the reason why I’m made of metal… like an android or robot.

He sighed and slightly tilted his head up enough to look at you from his deep-set eyes. A name fell from his lips, one you did no recognize. An action he noticed. “You… you died. Well, about to die. There was just enough time to get you on the mothership. I demanded the healers to save you. I could not loose you. I wasn’t ready.” He paused and glanced to the side.

His chest expanded with a deep breath. “There was little to save. Not even the healers could do much. The next best option was… to build you a body and transfer your brain and heart into it, well what’s left of your heart.”

The explanation didn’t ease the trembling in your hands. More tears fell down artificial cheeks. What was real of you anymore? Just your brain and heart? Nothing else?

“Oh, my flower, it’s going to be-“ he reached forward to wipe off a tear when you smacked his hand away from you.

“Don’t touch me!” you screeched at him but stayed sat on ground in a pile of defeat. It would be pointless to try and get up when your first two attempts ended in failure. You glare at the ground, chest heaving with each angry breath.

The Yautja gave a look of hurt but backed off by giving you some space. He stayed in the room, five feet away from you still on the ground.

You had almost died. Death. And you didn’t even remember anything of the sort. Nothing besides waking up early and him coming through the door was everything on your memory banks.

What does this mean for you? Instead of skin, you were metal. Could you feel the same? What about pain? How bad will this change your life? You wiped a stray tear and flicked it away. Yet, more came to fill its place. An never-ending waterfall.

What about your tears? Will that reservoir need to be replenished? Or eating and food. How will that work? Do you need to be near an outlet for the rest of your life? Always ready to recharge your batteries. You sobbed harder at the thought.

After your cried went quiet and the silence was too much, you cleared your throat and looked over at him. “So, what’s your name?” If you were stuck like this, you might as well make the most of the situation. Learn what you can of your past life. Maybe even return to it if possible. Even if you weren’t human anymore.

His fangs clicked against another. “Pel.” Short, sweet. An easy name to remember. But with the technology hooked up to your brain, it’s not like you could easily forget.

“And who were you to me?” It was a strain to force the words out. Such a strange question to ask in any other situation other than being turned into a robot.

Yet, the Yautja kept his trap shut and instead reached for a necklace that hung around his neck. Bones of different species hung off the cord. His fingers softly rubbed at a stone in the middle.

“Your mate,” he whispered, the words hurting to be spilled. Your brows jumped to the ceiling. You stared at him for longer than you would like to admit with a deafening silence that engulfed the two of you. It took more will power than to hold back an army from screaming out right there.

Mate? Yautjas take mates as a form of permanent relationship compared to the seasonal fling to produce offspring. He was your mate. Lover, partner, boyfriend. None of those substitutions eased you.

A painful thought came to mind: would he still love me even if I wasn’t the same as before? Mind or body? “So, that’s why you decided to the take the risk and forever change me into this thing,” you bitterly spat out. Your upper lip curling up. “Why?”

His back straightened for a more serious approach. “You are my mate. How could I not save you from Cetanu’s wrath?” Words softly spoken with such hurt and disbelief for your own unfaith in him. Could he blame you? Memories of the past wiped clean and leave behind a clean slate to be marked. Nothing to alert he ever meant something to you.

Instantly, your brain supplied information about the name he stated. The god of death for Yautjas. The hunting grounds Yautjas are sent to for their final battle before the end. You groaned clutched at your head in distraught, despising the fact that wasn’t knowledge you personally knew.

A pained glare was sent in his direction. “Well, how is that going for you? I don’t even know who you are.” The Yautja sighed with his head bowed once more. You could see the gears in his head trying to figure out a way to fix this.

How could he fix this? You weren’t human anymore. Not fully. A cyborg of sorts for his own gain.

But, he did save you from death. You gnawed at your inner cheek then exhaling softly.

“The healers said it was a slight possibility but I had to take the chance. I couldn’t lose you so soon!” he cried and fidgeted in his spot on the floor. “You don’t understand how my heart ached at the sight of you. So bloodied, barely breathing. It wasn’t even an honorable death. A Bad Blood tried to kill you.”

Bad Blood: rouge Yautjas who have broken the honor code. Enforcers hunt them down. They are deemed rouge by a council of their assigned clan.

Fuck you.

This was sickening. If you had a stomach, you probably would’ve puked up whatever they pumped into you to keep you alive. You took a deep breath to stave off the new wave of tears daring to fall.

“I hate this,” you whispered and gripped at your head. The information dump was driving you insane. Anything you didn’t know personally was fed into your brain forcefully. You felt like a dictionary. “Turn it off!”

You gripped tighter at your head then ducked down to your knees, forehead to them. A sob desperate wanted to wrack your body but you fought it off by closing off any sounds. Anything to keep any sliver of dignity you held on to.

Hand encased your wrists again and brought them away then to your sides. “Turn what off?” his voice whispered. You whipped your head up and nearly smacked into his jaw if he was a second slower.

Despite him having a hold on your wrists you still made a general motion towards your head. “Everything I don’t know, something tells me! I’m like a fucking computer. I hate it! I hate this! I hate you!” you snarled at him and tried to fight him off. He struggled to hold onto your stronger form but kept you retrained and pressed to the bedframe behind you. “I never wanted this! You did this to me.”

His hold slackened enough for you to tug free. Your feet wobbled like a newborn foal. Every step helped gain you speed and out the open door.

This space looked to be a living room. Basic, enough furniture to hold three people in the same area if the need arises. Small yet homey in a strange way. You had enough time to give a quick look over before your legs gave out once. You fell to your knees and screamed with anger at the whole situation. This felt like a punishment worse than death.

Starting your life over while stuck in the middle.

Hands grasped at your shoulders and tugged you into a warm body. Your brain went numb, unable to react to something that felt familiar. A purr rumbled your internal parts and soothed the raging emotions swirling inside of you. You whimpered and gripped onto one of his forearms entangled around you. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll all be okay. We’ll figure this out together. We always do. We are a team. I will help you every step of the way. I will never leave you, okay?” he stated and rubbed a palm along your bicep.

You swallowed the lump that blocked any words down. “I’m scared,” you admitted and tightened your hold on him. “I don’t like this.”

This was all completely out of your territory. You didn’t know where you are, barely knew who this was, and got turned into a cyborg after you were supposedly attacked. You hadn’t even known you had died. What a messed-up outcome this has turned into.

The purr deepened. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, my mate. I will protect you with my life.” He paused and ducked his head down, mandibles pressed to the back of your head. “I’m sorry to have put you under so much stress. I thought this was the best route for you.”

His words helped you loosen your muscles or whatever corded your body. You leaned more against him and turned your head. Your nose finding his scent and realizing how familiar to felt. Maybe life will get easier after this? Now, you had to hope for the best outcome of life that has been turned on its head. You tilted your head back and found the large alien gazing down at you.

“I think you’re right.”

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