#prison jake is the only man who counts

[normspellsman]

She Is Mine

part one | part two

pairing: neteyam x fem!omatikaya!reader

genre: violence, bit of angst + fluff, & comfort

word count: 2.7k+

warning(s): death threats, mentions of death + injuries + blood, reader thinking she’s going to die + accepts it, neteyam going apeshit on an avatar soldier, reader being stabbed, mentions of brutal killings / violence, reader crying, & a bit of dark!neteyam

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @liyahsocorro @amortencjja @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @chshshhshshshshshshshs @minkyungseokie

word bank: mawey — calm; calm down, eywa / the great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, ikran — winged creature used for flying + hunting, yawne — beloved, & yawntutsyip — darling; little darling

note: literally wrote this within two to three hours so it might not be that great, so bare with me. hope you guys liked it & let me know if i should do something similar to this with lo’ak <3

It was stupid really.

When you think back on it, it was definitely stupid to agree to tag along with Lo’ak and the rest to wherever the hell they were planning on going. But you could not say no to Tuk when she asked you to come with them. She was your weakness and used it to her advantage.

You’d been silently weaving a new armband for your boyfriend, Neteyam, when his youngest sister had approached you, hands interlocked behind her back and the all too familiar ‘innocent’ look plastered on her face. You knew that whatever she was thinking of saying or asking you would end up in you ultimately agreeing to it, most likely getting you in trouble with your lover.

“Join me and Kiri to the mountains with Lo’ak. Pretty please?” She had asked, pouting and widening her amber eyes up at you as she gently swayed from side to side.

You gave in immediately.

It was sad how fast the youngest Sully got you to cave in so quickly. You had restraint with the others, even Neteyam, but had none whatsoever when it came to Tuktirey. You had such a soft spot for her and Tuk took advantage of it every time.

Should’ve never said yes, you grumble to yourself inside your head, head shaking to yourself as you struggled against the restraints the RDA soldiers had put you in upon catching you all when you attempted to leave the scene you weren’t supposed to be at.

Jake instilled it into you guys so many times to never get close to the abandoned shack. You needed asked why. It was something that Jake wasn’t going to argue about and made it very clear after his youngest son tried to pry the answer out of him the first time he mentioned it. Should’ve listened to Jake.

Everything went by so fast, you had barely had time to process what was going on before you were shackled in handcuffs and essentially held prisoner by RDA Avatars.

“Who is she?” A deep voice asked, pulling you out of your seething thoughts.

Quaritch had a good estimate on who was who in the little rag tag group he caught. The five fingered teens one-hundred-percent belonged to Jake Sully while the human boy was a result of the Corporals past. So, that left you and Tuk. He would give it a fifty-fifty chance that the both of you were also Jake’s kids. Man, he and the Missus sure was busy, he thinks to himself, smirking at the thought.

By the only Na’vi boys reaction, Quaritch could tell that you were something else to the kid. A girlfriend perhaps?, he thinks, best friend?.

Lo’ak knew he was fucked the minute Tuk managed to convince you to join in on their little ‘adventure’. Neteyam continuously told him to look out for you whenever he left to go hunt or do whatever their parents told him to do, threatening bodily harm and death if he didn’t obey. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing but regardless of it, still continued on with his plan. Neteyam was so going to kill him.

“Our sister,” Lo’ak muttered, the soldier behind him still had a tight grip on his queue, tightening it before he answered.

Everyone on the scene could tell that Lo’ak was lying. It was evident. The boy's ears were pinned back, mostly in pain, and his tail fell limp beside him as it gently curled in on itself.

Bingo, Quaritch thought to himself, more leverage.

“Hmm, I think you’re lying, boy,” the Corporal starts, inching closer to Lo’ak, “And do you know what I do to liars?” he asked.

You gulped at the man’s words. You could only assume his following answer would entail torture or death. You all were totally fucked either way.

Lo’ak refused to answer the man’s question, making Quaritch smirk even more.

“I punish them,” he answered, a sick and disturbing glint in his eyes as he stared down Jake Sully’s second son.

Anxiety spiked in all of our systems, making you struggle further in the soldier's grasp.

“Don’t hurt him,” you and Kiri pleaded, the soldiers behind you yanking back on your braided queue, making you cry out in pain.

Quaritch tsked at your response, turning towards you as he stalked towards your figure. “I’m not going to hurt him, sweetheart. Just you,” he finalized, pulling out a knife that was sheathed in its carrier on his hip.

You and everyone else began to protest at his words.

“(Y/N)! No!” Lo’ak cried out, trying to inch closer towards you to protect you but was pulled back by a soldier, hissing out in pain and frustration.

Tuk began to cry as she saw the knife inch towards your face before it dipped down to your neck.

“You fucking asshole!” Spider yelled out, struggling in the grips of the two Avatar soldiers holding him, surprisingly making them struggle to keep him in their grasps in return.

Kiri could only close her eyes in response, not wanting to see you get hurt in front of her.

You stopped at the contact the cold knife made with your warm skin, the temperature of it making you lightly flinch back at it. Your heartbeat rose increasingly within the confines of your chest, hammering against the bone. Holy shit, you thought, this is how I’m going to die.

As you looked around and saw your friends' reactions, you accepted your fate. You accepted that you were going to be murdered in front of them. You could only hope that your death would help the Sullys and Spider escape from the soldiers and Quaritch safely and unharmed. You also hoped that it was going to be a quick death. You didn’t want them to see you suffer.

It’s okay, be calm. Don’t fight back, it’ll only make it worse. Mawey. Eywa, please ensure the safe return of the Sully’s and Spider. And make sure that Neteyam finds only happiness after this, you prayed.

Quaritch had taken your queue from the soldiers grasp behind you, granting you momentary relief from the tight hold only to be replaced with an even harsher grip. You hissed out at the returning pain.

“Now, listen here boy,” he starts, pointing the clean knife at Lo’ak, making him look at him, “I want ‘ya to contact your Father and tell him that if he isn’t here after the sun sets, girly over here,” he gestures to you with the knife in hand, “Is going to be gutted and strung up on the tree line as a little surprise for your Daddy. Am I clear?”.

His words makes Tuk cry even harder, making the soldier behind her give up on her hold on the girls queue and instead hold her up by her arms.

Lo’ak reluctantly nodded at his words, swallowing down the gathering spit in his mouth. His eyes jumped from Spider to Quaritch to you, then to Kiri and Tuk. He was dreading the moment his parents and Neteyam arrived, knowing that regardless of how much they cooperate, Quaritch is going to do whatever he wants to even if that includes staying true to his words of harming you.

———

The three were close to nearing the old abandoned shack when Lo’ak called in again, the line going static for a second before he spoke up.

“Quaritch is giving you until after sunset to arrive,” he shakingly starts, anxiety clearly evident in his tone as he speaks, “Or…or he’ll gut (Y/N) and string her up as a welcome gift for you.”.

Neteyam nearly crashes into a tree when he hears his brother's words.

Quaritch was threatening the life of you, his mate, in hopes of riling up Jake. Well, it was working, except it was Neteyam who was riled up and not his Father.

All the boy could see was red as the three of them silently continued their flight towards your destination after Jake told Lo’ak that they were on their way and that the message was clearly received.

Rage boiled up inside of Neteyam’s body, causing him to slightly shake from the emotion atop his ikran. He was going to kill every single one of the soldiers there once he arrived. He’d do anything to get you back. Anything.

———

Everything ached.

From your queue, to your scalp, to your neck, and to the fresh new wound Quaritch left after he decided Lo’ak was taking too long to relay his message to his Father. He had sliced your thigh and stabbed the wound in response, jamming it into the flesh/plush of your thigh. You cried out to the brutal attack, growling out in pain as a handful of tears fell down your cheeks. Quaritch only smirked at your reaction, throwing you down onto the ground as the rest of the soldiers followed suit in discarding their prisoners, herding them into a circle.

Kiri helped you up, allowing you to lean into her. She quickly assessed your wound and deemed that you were going to be fine, as long as no one pulled the knife out from your leg.

Lo’ak held your head in the palms of his hands as he looked for any other slices Quaritch managed to make before stabbing you. He didn’t find any and sighed out in relief from that.

Spider had gathered Tuk in his arms and tried to silence her crying before any of the soldiers got inspiration from Quaritch and decided to punish the child for crying.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” you whispered between grinded teeth after the attack, trying your best to not yank out the foreign object in your thigh. You began to think that maybe you will end up dying out here after all, amongst the beautiful greenery of Pandora. Albeit it not being the way you wanted to go out, it still wouldn’t be the most gruesomest death you imagined happening. You just wished that you were able to kiss Neteyam goodbye one last time.

———

Furious wouldn’t even begin to describe the type of emotion he was feeling at the moment. There probably was no word equivalent to the emotion he currently felt.

Neteyam had ended up disobeying his Fathers orders of him staying with the ikrans, saying that he was ‘too emotionally invested’ and that his anger was too risky for what he was about to face. He thought it was utter bullshit that he wasn’t allowed to aid his parents in rescuing his siblings and his lover from Quaritch. If anything, it gave him more of a reason to focus and get everyone out of there safely.

He had managed to take down two Avatar soldiers in his search for you. He decided that they weren’t worthy of wasting his arrows on, slicing and stabbing them until their throats were practically open wide in exposure or had any time to process the pain. He’d been quick and brutal in his attacks. The more bodies he left behind, the more closer he was to having you in his arms.

His Mother had already released her arrow by the time he arrived on the scene, causing the other soldiers to shoot out into the trees and pull you all up in response. He was forced to hid behind a tree, eyes desperately searching for your familiar figure amongst the Avatar bodies and his siblings.

Neteyam’s eyes finally found your body, still in a soldiers grasp as they tried to pull you away towards where the others were gathering.

His gaze narrowed at the soldiers tight grip on you, robotically notching an arrow and drawing his bowstring back, almost immediately letting it go just as quick as his initial drawing of the arrow.

The arrow lodged itself in between the eyes of the soldier, it’s body slumping backwards as it’s grip loosened on your body, allowing you to follow its descent to the ground.

You groaned out in pain when your body made contact with the forest floor. You were too tired to move out of the way once you realized the soldier that had you in its arms had died, accepting your fall to the floor as gracefully as you could. The knife was still in your thigh, shooting electric hot pain up your leg upon being disturbed from the short fall.

You felt another pair of hands grab you and roughly pull you upwards, you screaming and kicking in retaliation. But just as quickly as their arms grabbed you, they let you go, a loud grunt and hiss following as their body was thrown to the side.

Neteyam had quickly made his way to you once he spotted another Avatar pull you up. He had unsheathed his knife and jumped on the soldier, causing the two of them to roll around on the floor before Neteyam brutally and repeatedly drove his weapon into the Avatar’s body, not stopping until he was certain that he caused enough damage to the fake Na’vi.

Stay away from her, he thought after every stab he inflicted, it’s not her time.

You had looked up when Neteyam delivered the final blow, slitting the insignificant soldier's throat.

You had never seen your mate this angry. Sure there were times where he lashed out at you after an argument or got so angry he hissed and growled at his brother for his ridiculous antics. But never, never have you ever seen him so vengeful. You didn’t even know if vengeful was the right word to describe how Neteyam looked like at the moment. But nothing else came to mind.

“Yawne,” you whispered out, desperate to catch your boyfriend's attention, wanting to get out of the line of fire as quickly as possible.

The teen whipped his head towards you, eyes dilated to the point where they looked like slits in his pupils. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, lungs taking big gulps of air as he did so. A few braids fell in front of his face, masking some of it as he looked at you.

His whole expression softened once he laid eyes on you. He could tell that you wanted to get as far away from the scene as you quickly could, that sad and traumatic look in your eyes at you pleaded with him.

Neteyam quickly shook out of his stupor and gathered you in his arms, being weary of the knife in your leg that he just noticed. Another thing that made him want to kill Quaritch himself.

“It’s okay, I got you yawntutsyip,” he whispered back, dodging all of the flying bullets and arrows he could as he weaved into the heavy forest foliage. His grip on you never faltered as he jumped over logs and ducked under stray branches to get you to safety. His whole body was on autopilot as he ran around, solely focused on getting you out of there alive.

Once Neteyam had decided he was far out enough to not be chased or caught by any more Avatar soldiers, he gently laid you down onto the soft grass, eyes quickly assessing your figure for any other injuries he should be aware about. He let out a sigh of relief when he came to the conclusion that you had no other wounds that needed tending to, softly bringing you into his arms for a warm embrace.

You immediately broke down into the hug, burrowing your face into the crook of Neteyam’s neck and wrapping your arms around his back to bring him in closer. Your sobs were a telltale sign of how distraught you were from the events that just occurred, brain still racing to process it all.

Neteyam softly shushed you as he put one hand on the back of your head and the other on the lower portion of your back, softly rubbing the skin in attempts to comfort you.

“You’re safe now, my love,” he whispered, kissing your hair, “I got you. You’re safe.”.

You relaxed into your lovers arms as he comforted you, feeling safe in his hold.

Neteyam had never gotten that blood thirsty before and that frightened him a little. If he acted like this when you were in trouble, can you imagine how’d he act if you actually died as a result of tonight’s events? He didn’t know the answer to that. All he knew was that you’re his and he’d do anything to ensure that it is not your time yet.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam imagines #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader

[bloatedandalone04]

The Only One Invited

➪the one where you’re with a.j. and ghost, your ex, gets out of prison. (requested)

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, jealousy, mentions of a bad past relationship, toxic ex, unwanted attention, descriptions of fighting, mentions of blood, descriptions of wounds, alcohol consumption, swearing, blood kink....? kinda? never wrote this before heha

Word Count: 8.6k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and flashing lights were the furthest things from your mind as you stared down at your left hand with a permanent smile on your face. 

A large rock attached to a band stared back up at you, shining under the bright lights of the club. 

A mere half an hour ago A.J. had proposed to you, back at your shared apartment, and you had to practically force yourself to carry on through with your plans of meeting Rachel and the guys at the club. 

You were more than willing to skip out on the gathering, simply because you had officially been taken off the market by the man you fell so hard for so fast. 

But, A.J. assured you that there would be lots of time to celebrate your engagement, one on one, after a few hours spent with your friends. 

While you agreed to still go, you also gave him a fair warning that you probably wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him for more than a minute or so. That only made him want to go out even more, just so he could show off that you belonged to each other and no one else. 

John congratulated you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, something A.J. didn’t even bat an eye at. While he has always been somewhat possessive over you, he couldn’t bring himself to feel jealous whenever you interacted with his friends. John, Jesse, Jake and Gordon all know about how your ex boyfriend, and their former group member, treated you. 

If A.J. was a little possessive over you, Ghost was convinced he had a say in every single thing you did. He was not only emotionally manipulative, but he also rarely let you have outings like this. Ghost didn’t like the fact that you were close to the guys, and he really didn’t like how much A.J. pined over you. 

It was obvious from the start how much A.J. was into you, but you had already been spoken for by the likes of his friend. Ghost made it clear that he would never get the chance with you, and A.J. had to sit by and watch as you slowly became a shell of the person you were before.

When Ghost was arrested and officially taken out of your life, the two of you couldn’t deny your feelings of each other any longer. It was only a year and a half after when you began dating, and now another three and a half years later, he finally worked up the courage to ask you to marry him. 

You hadn’t given your toxic ex so much as a thought in almost five years, and you couldn’t be happier. You were in a much better place now, and you had A.J. to thank for that. 

After a bit of small talk with Rachel and the guys, and a fair amount of alcohol consumption, A.J. had decided he was done with socializing at this point. 

So, after a quick goodbye and a few more hugs of congratulations, you were off, your hand held tightly in A.J.’s. 

As soon as you were in the entrance hall of your apartment, his lips were on yours and your back was against the door. He was addictive as well as addicted, and he was kissing you like he still couldn’t believe he had managed to have you all to himself. 

Finally, you were all his.

After years of pining and watching Ghost treat you in all the ways you didn’t deserve, he had stayed true to his word and given you a much better life. You were finally being shown the adoration and respect you had been missing out on, and A.J. couldn’t be more full of pride that it was he who got to shower you in all of it. 

A vase was knocked off the front hall table in the midst of him taking you right there, and he didn’t care one bit about the replaceable porcelain as he carried you to your room after getting you off a couple of feet from the door.

It was all smiles and kisses as he stumbled his way through the apartment, his hands never leaving your body, and your fingers never detangling from his hair.  

Pictures were accidentally knocked off the walls, and there would be a mess to clean up later, but neither of you seemed too worried about it as the feeling of bliss took over the pair of you completely.

-

The next morning, or maybe it was the afternoon, you and A.J. still hadn’t left the comfort of the king sized bed when his phone went off. 

He felt around the comforter with the hand that wasn’t gripping your waist, and squinted as he read the caller ID. “Jake,” he muttered and you hummed, nuzzling closer to him. He answered the call, bringing his phone up to his ear with a muffled, “Yeah?”

“A.J.,” Jake said and he could hear the frustration and panic in his best friend’s voice. “You won’t believe it, man.”

A.J. closed his eyes again as the sun seeped into the room, him having failed to shut the blinds before taking you to bed for the night. “What?”

“It’s Ghost,” Jake muttered. “He’s fucking back.”

A.J.’s grip on you tightened at that, and his eyes opened again. “What do you mean, he’s back?” 

“He’s out, A.J.,” Jake said. “They released him this morning.”

“Fuck,” A.J. grunted and you felt it as his whole body tensed up. You lift your head and take note of the crease in his forehead, frustration evident on his face. 

“What?” You ask quietly, placing a comforting hand on his bare chest. “What is it?”

A.J. just shook his head at you as he listened to whatever else Jake was saying. “Yeah, alright,” he replied. “I’ll be there later. Thanks, man.”

When he hung up and tossed his phone to the side, you furrowed your brows and propped yourself up on your elbow. “What’s wrong?”

As he looked at you, A.J. felt a surge of anger go through him. He hated Ghost and was pissed off that he had been released from prison so quickly, and the fact that it was the day after you got engaged was another thing that royally ticked him off. 

He had saved you from the man once before, and he had no problem doing it again, but he still hated the fact that he was out now. 

“It’s Ghost,” he mumbled.

The tracing of your fingers against his chest stopped. “What about him?”

He felt you tense up in his arms, and he knew all those memories you had of Ghost were coming back. The same memories you hadn’t thought about in years, the ones he never wanted you to think about again. A.J. hated Ghost with a passion that ran deep. It had been building up since the minute he saw your awful excuse of an ex lay his hands on you.

“They released him this morning,” he quietly informed you and felt your hand move to squeeze his arm.

“So,” you trail off, hesitantly meeting his eyes. He hadn’t seen you be this on edge with him since the beginning of your relationship, the beautiful thing it is. You were closed off and apprehensive at the start, but he was quickly able to break down the walls you had spent the whole duration of your relationship with Ghost building up. “What does this mean for us?”

You sounded nervous, and he really couldn’t blame you. Ghost is a menace and one of the worst people A.J. had ever met. If he had any say in it at all, Ghost would still be behind bars and for much longer than five years. 

A.J. gently lifted you up so you were straddling him after he moved to rest against the headboard. “Nothing,” he assured you, resting his hands on your waist and nudging your nose with his. “This means nothing. You’re my girl, my finaceé.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, gently digging your fingers into his skin in a soft massage. “But I was his girl before,”

He ran his hands up your back in an attempt to comfort you, not knowing what  else he could do at the moment to make you feel at ease. “Yeah, he had his chance,” he agreed, and continued before you could say anything, “But he fucked it up, as if he even deserved to have you in the first place.” 

You give him a weak smile. “A.J.,” you trail off, unsure of how to put your concerns into words. You know he understands either way, but you were still uneasy about the very real fact you would have to continue to live your life like normal, but now have your abusive ex back in the picture. “I can’t go back to how things were.”

You knew Ghost would hold a grudge against the other guys for the fact that he was the only one who was arrested, so just not seeing him wouldn’t be an option. He would be around the guys again, and possibly on a daily basis, so you would just have to resort to avoiding him as best as you could. 

“You won’t,” he said sternly, his eyes softening at just how nervous and different you had become since he told you about the release of your ex. “You won’t, baby, I promise. He’s not going to hurt you, he won’t even fucking breathe in your direction as long as I can prevent it.”

You give him a genuine smile and lean in to brush your lips against his, “I don’t want him hurting you,”

“I don’t care what happens to me,” he replied and you could tell just how much he meant those words. “You’re the best thing in my life, and I won’t let you slip back into the way you were before.”

He grabbed your left hand and raised it up, pressing his lips to the finger that held your ring. 

“I promised you when I put this ring on your finger that I would spend the rest of my life making sure you’re the happiest you could ever possibly be, and I intend on keeping that promise,” his words were so soft spoken, it had tears gathering in your eyes almost instantly. “You’re my future. Ghost is our past. He’s not going to ruin what we’ve spent almost four years creating. I’m not going to let him.”

His words make you feel at ease, and you nod at him before pressing your lips to his in a proper kiss. You slide your hands up and grip the sides of his face as he pulls your chest flat against his. Slowly, you move your hips and feel a shock of pleasure shoot through you at the friction.

A.J. felt it, too, and he deepened the kiss with a low groan. “Fuck,” he muttered against your lips. “He’s fucking crazy for taking this for granted, the fucking idiot.”

You smile against him and grind down again, tangling your fingers in his hair as you murmur a quiet request, “Make me forget about him all over again,”

A.J. groaned loudly before he was pushing you back down onto the bed and hovering over you, just like how he was last night. 

-

Later, you and A.J. finally got out of bed after getting a couple more hours of sleep. Jake had texted him and invited the two of you out to the club tonight, and though you were a bit hesitant about possibly running into Ghost, you agreed to go meet up with the guys again. 

“Damn,” A.J. said under his breath as he leaned against the bathroom door frame. You were standing at the counter, the bright lights around the mirror making you look like something straight out of heaven. His eyes trailed up and down the tight red dress you wore, giving you a bit of a sinful look amidst the heavenly glow that surrounded you. “My girl is hot.”

You grin at him in the mirror, shaking your head slightly as you apply a matching red lip. 

“Fuck,” he muttered and pushed himself off the frame. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. “Maybe we should stay home tonight.”

Laughing, you lean back against him and keep eye contact with him in the mirror. “We’ve spent pretty much the entire day at home,” 

“Why not spend the rest of it at home as well?” He shrugged, smirking at your reflection. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you before.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” you match his smirk and hold up your left hand. “I just want another night to show this off.” You wiggle your fingers for further effect.

A.J.’s smirk turns into a genuine smile for a second as he says, “I guess I can stick it out for another night,” he replied smoothly, running his nose up your neck until his lips were right next to your ear. “It allows me to show you off to everyone.”

You turned your head so you were able to look into his eyes. “I love you,” 

A.J. hummed, closing the distance and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You lift your right hand and tangle it in his hair, the angle of your arm a bit awkward but nothing you couldn’t put up with if it meant you got to kiss him. “I love you,” he said back, his lips slightly wet from the quick heated kiss. “And I got you something.” 

You raise a brow in curiosity, allowing him to use his right hand to turn your head back towards the mirror, where you saw the necklace dangling from his left one. “A.J.,” you trail off, eyeing the chain as a warm feeling spread all throughout your body. “You didn’t have to get me anything else. The ring is more than enough.”

A.J. waved you off as he helped clip it around your neck. “I’ll never pass up the opportunity to spoil you,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck once the clasp was secured. “You know that.”

You look at the charm in the mirror, a smile gracing your features as you take in the simple A.J. that was engraved on it. It was backwards in the mirror, but you were still able to immediately tell what it said.

When you didn’t say anything else, A.J. bit down on his lip and reached a hand up to flatten his now messy hair. Even though he would be wearing his hat later, he still wanted to look good for you at all times; including right after you just finished making a mess of his strands. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too…I don’t know, possessive or something like that,”

You shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck. “Not at all,” you say and brush your lips against his. “Claim me as yours in any way you see fit. You won’t hear any complaints about it from me.”

A.J.’s look of nervousness quickly wipes away and a smirk replaces it. “Is that so? In that case,” he leaned down, teasing your mouth with his, before moving past it and placing an open mouth kiss to the side of your neck. Before you could stop yourself, a moan escapes you as he sucks your skin between his lips and creates a dark love bite, right above the chain of your necklace. “Now I’m ready to go.”

-

“I’m so excited for you guys!” Rachel says as she gives you a hug. You hug her back as A.J. and Jake greet each other with a quick hand shake. “I knew you two would end up engaged, I just can’t believe how long it took him to ask you.”

A.J. rolls his eyes and embraces her in a half hug. “I bought the ring four months into the relationship,” he points out and your eyes widen as you tug him towards you. 

“You did?” You ask and he nods, a smirk forming on his lips when you lightly slap his shoulder. “A.J., you tease! What the hell were you waiting for?”

His smirk turned into a smile as he shrugged and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I didn’t want to rush things,”

You shake your head and kiss him quickly, wrapping your arms around his middle while his hands tightly grip your waist. “I would’ve said yes four days into our relationship, never mind four months,”

A.J. raises a brow as you reach a hand up to straighten out his hat. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,”

“Damn,”

You laugh and nuzzle your face against his chest. “But I love you, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about the last four years,”

He smiles down at you, “Me either,” his eyes meet John’s from across the club. A.J. squeezes your hips, pressing another kiss to your lips before stepping away from you, his mouth next to your ear. “I’ll be right back.”

You nod, moving towards Jake, who was leaning against the bar. “I’ll get you a drink,” you offer, and A.J. gives you a grateful smile and a quick kiss to the side of your head before he’s wandering off in the direction of John.

Turning back to Jake, you give him a small smile when he hands you the same drink that Rachel is sipping on before ordering A.J. a glass of bourbon. “Don’t worry,” he winks at you, downing his own drink before continuing, “I’ll say it’s from you.” 

With a quick laugh, you wave him off. “You don’t have to,”

Before he could get another word in, you feel a hand press against the small of your back. You immediately stiffen, the touch being familiar but not in a good way. A.J. was always gentle with you, never forcefully putting his hands on you, and it seems as though he couldn’t be away from you for more than thirty seconds before someone else came swooping in. 

This certain someone was a person you never wanted to see again, and you had been so sure you wouldn’t have to see him again, but here we are. 

“Hey, brat,” the unflattering nickname made you hold back a grimace. “Haven’t seen you in a while. It’s been so long.”

“Not long enough,” you say through your teeth, your grip on the glass tightening the longer he kept his hand on you. 

A laugh was heard right next to your ear, the sound making you flinch slightly. “Nice to see you haven’t changed a bit,” he murmured, dipping his head down so his face was closer to yours. “Brat.”

You turn to face him at the same time Jake finally notices the man next to you, his eyes darkening as he pulls Rachel behind him. “Ghost,” he says, stepping closer to you, but he could only get so far due to your ex blocking his path. “How long you been back?” He knew the answer, but also knew better than to set Ghost off right away.

“A while,” Ghost answers, shrugging slightly. “Got out this morning.”

“Right,” Jake trailed off, eyeing you with a sense of protection you usually see from A.J. “Well, a lot has happened in the last five years, man. I mean, that’s half a decade.”

Ghost leans closer to the man, a flash of anger in his eyes. “You don’t think I know that?” He asked, his tone deep and deadly. “I was the one in prison.”

“I know, man,” Jake raised his hands in defense. “I’m just saying. Things have changed since you’ve been in there.”

“Yeah?” Ghost asked. “Like what?”

Jake wrapped a protective arm around Rachel, his eyes flickering over to you. “You know, things,”

Ghost turned back to you and placed his hand flat against the bar on the other side of you, successfully caging you in between his arms. You wished you slipped away when you had the chance. “Care to fill me in, baby?” He asked, his voice quiet in the loud club, but you still heard him.

You turn to glare at him. “Don’t call me that,” you mutter, pushing against his chest. He didn’t budge a bit. “I mean it, we’re done.” 

Ghost smirked down at you. “I don’t recall us ever breaking up, brat,”

“You went to jail,” you seethe, trying to push him away from you again. “That should have been a clear enough message.”

“You didn’t wait for me?” His voice was dripping with faux sadness. “I thought we had something special.”

You felt yourself beginning to slip back to the sad, weak girl you were when you were with Ghost. You were so easy to manipulate back then, so easy to use, and use you he did. You changed for the better when A.J. finally initiated a relationship with you, and you can’t go back to who you were before him. 

Jake placed a firm hand on Ghost’s shoulder, pulling his attention from you. “Listen, man, she’s not your girl anymore, alright?” He tried to sound reasonable, but there was no reasoning with Ghost. “Let it go.”

“Take your own advice and let me go, Jake,” Ghost shoved Jake’s hand from his shoulder and turned back to face you. “Come back to me, baby. We were so good together.”

You shake your head and try once again to push him away from you. “No,”

“Come on,” he grabbed your wrist and lifted your arm, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of your engagement ring. If it made him mad, he didn’t show it as he dropped your arm back down and gripped your waist. “You were always so willing, what happened, hm? Where did my obedient girl go?” 

“Leave me alone, Ghost,” you try to sound strong, though you felt incredibly weak. “I’m not that girl anymore.”

Ghost cooed, “I don’t believe that,” he dipped his head down so his lips were close to yours. “Just come back to me.”

Before you could say or do anything else, Ghost pulled away from you when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. 

“Jake, I swear to fucking-” he cut himself off when he turned around and came face to face with your fiancé. “A.J.! Hey, man. I can’t talk right now, I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

A.J. grinned at him. “In the middle of what?” It was then when you realized that A.J. had his hands tucked behind his back and was swaying slightly, his grin so clearly forced. 

“You know,” Ghost gestured to you. “I’m trying to help this broad remember who she belongs t-”

Before anyone could say anything else, A.J. swung his right arm up and decked Ghost square in the face. He couldn’t even recover before A.J. was pulling you from your place by the bar and swinging his fist at Ghost’s face again once you were safely out of the way. 

In the midst of all that, his hat had fallen from his head, but it would’ve hit the floor anyway when Ghost recovered from the two punches and threw one of his own. You watch as his fist meets A.J.’s jaw, and how he stumbles back a bit, his knuckles brushing against the place that would surely have a bruise forming soon. 

Satisfied, Ghost looked between the two of you before laughing breathlessly, his index finger gesturing between you. “You two?” He asked, and A.J. didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw that was probably already starting to hurt. “Really? A.J., come on, man, what the fuck.”

A.J. huffed out a breath, narrowing his eyes at your ex while you stood behind his protective stance. 

Ghost glared at his former friend when he saw the initials carved onto your necklace. “You?”

“Yeah,” A.J. answers, stretching his fingers before clenching them back into a fist. “Me.”

And just like that, your future husband was knocking your ex boyfriend a few feet back with a swing of his arm and his fist to his nose. Ghost barely recovered before A.J. was punching him again, this time his cheek, where he delivered a harsh blow to the bone. 

Jake pulled you behind him as Ghost got another hit in, making A.J.’s nose shed a stream of blood, but he didn’t do nearly as much damage as he was receiving. A.J. was smart, clever and a borderline genius. He was also a hell of a good fighter, and has won more brawls than he could count on two hands. 

He was observant, and often used his surroundings to his advantage. That was why he easily got the upper hand by grabbing a nearby stool and slamming it against Ghost’s body, making the man fall to the floor with a harsh thud. The stool broke on impact, pieces of wood and screws flying to the ground as well. 

The club patrons were looking on with shock, but some were also intrigued and impressed by A.J.’s ability to stay in control during a fight. Some of them were on their phones, no doubt calling the police, and you knew you had to get him out before he got arrested, too. 

Before A.J. could finish the job, Jake was grabbing him by the shoulders and handing him his glass of bourbon. “Alright, alright, man, that’s enough,” he says, taking the glass back once A.J. downed the drink, all while keeping his eyes on the man who was still on the floor. “Go home, A.J., I’ll take care of him.”

You take that as your cue to lead him out of there. Grabbing his forgotten hat, you press yourself into A.J.’s side and guide him towards the door. You didn’t get far before Ghost was calling out to you, his teeth stained with his blood, “Fuck you, A.J. We were fucking friends,”

A.J. just scoffed and wrapped his arm around your waist. “We were never friends, you fucking prick,” he stumbled towards the door, his body on fire from the rage that had set in once he saw Ghost’s hands on your body. “Touch her again and I won’t stop next time until you’re dead.” 

And he was completely serious.  

Ghost had his chance, fucked it up, and wouldn’t get a second one to degrade you in all the ways he did before. Not if A.J. had any say in it.

You were glad you had chosen to walk to the club tonight, as maybe the cool air would help calm him down. A.J. was tense, his body stiff in the way that told you he was furious. You could only imagine all the thoughts that were running through his mind after seeing you with your abusive ex, and you hated having to put him through that. 

“A.J…” You trailed off, feeling the way his hand tightened around yours as he pulled you along with him and towards your apartment. “I’m sorry.”

That had him stopping so abruptly, you had no choice but to bump into his side at the sudden halt. He looked down at you with confusion evident on his face. “What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault your ex is a fucking asshole,” 

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I know, but I didn’t do more to get him away from me,”

A.J. was confused, but his anger overpowered that confusion. Had Ghost really made you believe that what happened just now was your fault? The thought made him even more pissed, and he had to hold onto every rational thought inside his head that was currently stopping him from going back into that club and finishing what he started. 

“Y/n,” he said sternly, resuming the walk back to the apartment, but at a much slower pace than before. He was still furious, but also knew he needed to stay calm for you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be reminded of Ghost’s anger issues just because he couldn’t de-escalate a situation. “You have nothing to be sorry for, alright? Nothing. Ghost is an idiot for putting those thoughts in your head.”

“I guess,” you say quietly, and A.J. bit his tongue to stop himself from calling you out on allowing Ghost to push you back into that mindset you had when you were with him. It truly wasn’t your fault.  

You make it back to the apartment a few minutes later. A.J. was still angry, and you were still on edge. It was such a contrast from the moods you were in when you returned home last night, the two of you being so happy and giddy and loving on one another. 

Looking over at him, you notice the blood that was still on his lip and chin from the punch his nose took, and you furrow your brows as you feel your own anger begin to brew, as well as guilt. 

A.J. noticed, like he always did. “What’s wrong?” 

You reach your hand out to him, running your thumb over his bruised and bloody knuckles. “Let me help you,” you offer quietly, despite the walls being thick and well insulated, you still didn’t want to be too loud right now.

A.J. gently gripped your jaw in between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up so you were forced to look into his annoyingly beautiful blue eyes. “I’m alright, baby,” he says just as quietly. “I’m more worried about you.”

You hold eye contact as you shrug. “I wish he never got out,” you say truthfully. 

A.J. nods, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you into his chest, immediately filling you with a sense of comfort. “Me too,” he says, massaging the back of your head as you inhale his woodsy scent. “Seeing you with him tonight….”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you pull back just enough to be able to look up at him. “What?”

He stared back down at you, his forehead creased in a furrow. “I just… I was brought back to all those years ago, when I was too stupid to say anything to you about how I felt. I kept it inside, because even though you were with a guy who didn’t deserve you, I didn’t want to fuck up what we already had going on,” 

You listened to the rare moment where he wasn’t able to keep his feelings inside and was forced to let them out. Truthfully, you adored the times when he felt comfortable enough to let you all the way in and loved how much he trusted you. 

“I hate to admit it, but,” he began, sliding his hands up so they were caressing either side of your face. “I’m jealous, baby. So fucking jealous that he had you. I fucking hate him and I hate the history you have with him. He never deserved you, it should’ve been me, but I was too much of a coward back then.”

You quickly shake your head and place your hands flat on his chest. “A.J.-”

“No, I let him treat you like you were nothing, but you’re everything, baby,” he promises, leaning down so his nose brushes against yours. “You’re everything to me. You always were, and you always will be. Ghost won’t change that, no matter what. The fucker had his chance, but I won’t let him have another one. You’re my girl, and I’m yours. I always was.”

You exhale quickly at his words and the way they dripped with possessiveness. God, you loved this man, and would happily live the rest of your life in this apartment with him. 

“Jay,” you all but whimpered, reaching one hand up to tug at his hair. He pulled you closer to him as he suppressed a groan. “Fuck, please.”

He hummed quietly, brushing his blood coated lips against yours. “Please…what?” He asked, sliding his hands back down to squeeze your hips in a way that had you whining softly. “What do you need, baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you could ever want.”

“Please, touch me,” you requested in a soft murmur, using your other hand to tug at the hair on the back of his neck. “I need you, need to forget the way his hands felt on me.”

A.J.’s hands tighten their grip on your hips, burrowing his nose into your hair. “Yeah?” He asked, his anger quickly beginning to dissolve into lust. “You need me to help you forget about your fuckhead of an ex? Remind you how my own hands feel?”

“Give me a refresher,” you say and begin unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t think I could ever forget how good your hands are, Jay.”

He groaned against your neck, his hands sliding down and playing with the end of your dress, where he pulled it up until it gathered above your hips. “That’s right, sweet girl,” he picked you up effortlessly and carried you over to the dining table, the open concept making his journey over there an easy one. “I don’t want you to ever forget how good I make you feel, just the way you deserve.”

He sets you down on top of the table, pulling off your dress completely and leaving you in just the skimpy black lingerie you were hiding underneath. 

A.J’s eyes darken at the sight, a deep grunt leaving his throat as he leans down to attach his lips to the skin of your breasts that was peeking out from the confinements of the lacy bra. “Fuck,” he sighed against your soft skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark onto it, just below where your necklace rested. “This is what you were wearing when that fucker touched you? Did you wear this just for me?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply, so obedient in the way Ghost forced you to be, but it was completely consensual with A.J. “Yes, only for you.”

A.J. smirked against the hickey he sucked onto you, his lips brushing over it as he mumbled, “My girl,” he kissed his way down your body, his hands gently pushing on your shoulders until you were laying flat against the surface of the table. “My sweet, sexy, beautiful girl.”

His words make you breathless and you arch your back when he kisses the skin of your abdomen. Your hands tangle in his hair while his tug down the equally lacy thong before he wraps his arms around your thighs. “God, A.J.,” you say under your breath. “You make me feel so good, with and without your hands.”

He grins against the skin of your hip when you lift it up towards his mouth. “I love you,”

His lips attach to your clit shortly after that, and you’re once again left without any air. “I love you,” you rasp out, your fingers getting lost in his light strands of hair. He sucks on your clit, chin still bloody and making a bit of it wipe off on you. Yet you found it strangely attractive, seeing his visual evidence of just how far he’d go to protect you rub off on you while he went down on you. “I love you more than anything, A.J.”

He hums in appreciation, kneeling down on the floor and pulling you by your waist so your thighs are resting on his shoulders. As his tongue works on your opening, your hips moving on their own accord against his mouth. “That’s right,” he praises, repeating his words from before as he keeps his head still and lets you grind your core against his awaiting tongue. “So good for me.”

You gasp quietly when he wraps his arms around your thighs again and delves his tongue inside you. “Fuck,” you drag the word out a bit as you arch away from the table again. “I need you so badly all the time, fuck.”  

A.J. hummed, removing his mouth from you but keeping the pressure by sliding his index and middle finger inside you with ease. “You’re all needy for me, huh, baby,” it wasn’t a question, because you both knew what the answer would be if it were. 

“A.J.,” you whine as your face heats up, your hands moving to grip the edges of the table on either side of your thighs. 

“I know,” he coos quietly, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly getting you all riled up for him. “I know, I’m needy for you, too, baby. I want you all the time, everyday.” 

“You have me,” you promise, blindly reaching for his free hand with your left one, your proof being your ring that was shining against the single light above the table that A.J. had flipped on upon returning home. “Forever, you have me.”

“Mm,” he sighed in contentment. “Forever sounds perfect, baby. Just you and me.”

“Just us,” you agreed, knowing that your words would assure him. Just from his firm grip on your hand, you knew he still kept the smallest bit of anger hidden, and you appreciated his attempt at shielding you from it. The blood was still on his lips and chin, but it had long since dried, and you were concerned about how hot you found the sight.

You shouldn’t, because it was physical harm that had been done to him, but he took those two punches for you, because he couldn’t stand the way your ex spoke about you. He couldn’t stand the sight of his hands on you, and the thought of you slipping back into the old version of you. 

His fingers continue to fuck in and out of you, the digits slick with visual evidence of how much he turned you on. Because he had made you come so many times during the last twenty four hours, you were a bit sensitive to the way his fingers brushed against your walls.

You already felt overstimulated, despite not coming yet, and you blamed it on the way he took you so good just hours before you and he left for the club. 

His mouth returned to your clit, where he harshly sucked at the bundle of nerves and elicited a sudden and involuntary jerk of your hips. A.J. huffs out a laugh against you, speeding up the pace of his fingers when he feels you clench around him. “You’re close,” he observes, releasing your clit and placing a kiss to your hip instead. “I can feel it.” When you pull your hand from his and tangle it in his hair again, he uses the newfound freedom to grip one of your breasts through your bra. 

It only adds to the overall pressure that is building up deep within you, and you were coming before you knew it. Your thighs tried to close around him, but his shoulders prevented them from doing so, and your hand pulled at his hair with a firm tug. The grunt he let out because of that had you squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers continued to ride you through your high. 

Your legs were shaking and felt numb as you cowered away from the relentless thrusts of his hand. “Jesus,” you mutter once he finally slipped his fingers from you, the pleasure beyond blinding at this point.

He grinned down at you when he stood up, his face full of pride as he sucked his fingers clean. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly. “I’m good.”

His hands settle on your hips when you sit up on the table, your palms flat against the surface to keep you upright. You gazed up at him, his red tinted lips, slick with your arousal, and his lust filled eyes.

You were feral for this man. “Come here,” you beckoned him over with a wave of your hand. That same hand gripped the back of his neck when he neared you, pulling him forward slightly so you could connect your lips in the first proper kiss since coming back home. You moan at the feeling of his lips on yours, despite the kiss having a metallic taste to it, you didn’t care. Noisily, you pull away and grip the side of his face with your other hand. “Thank you for sticking up for me, for protecting me.”

A.J. brushes his nose against yours. “I always will,” he says and slides his hands up your back. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” you nod, licking your saliva coated lips. “I want you to do something for me right now.” 

A.J. moves to stand between your legs, his still clothed front pressing against your partly bare one. “Anything, baby,” he reiterates.

You give him a sharp tug and wrap your arms around his neck. “I want you to fill me up,” you say, pressing a searing kiss to his lips, one that had him feeling lightheaded when mixed with your words. “I want to feel you, on me, in me, everywhere.” 

You reach down to grip him through his pants, hearing the quick inhale from him when you break the kiss. His hands move to the base of your neck, putting no pressure at all there, despite knowing how much it drove you crazy. 

“Make me yours, A.J.,” you softly begged. “Fuck me in the way we both need right now, let me make you come, I want it inside me.”

A.J. growled under his breath, gripped your throat and watched the way your eyes rolled back slightly, clearing loving the feeling of his fingers pressing against your airway. “You’re mine, baby,” he muttered, pressing another deep kiss to your awaiting mouth. His tongue swipes along your lower lip, leaving behind a string of saliva when he pulls away. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, sweet girl. I’m going to make you forget that fucker was ever part of your life.”

“Please,” you beg as you push his shirt off his shoulders. You move onto the button of his pants, unzipping them once the waistband loosened. Shoving them down, you guide his hips closer to yours before moving your hands back to his shoulders. “Fuck me, Jay, let me feel you.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he assures you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and it joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor next to the table. “Like I always do.”

While your fingers slip up to tangle in his hair, he uses one hand to free himself from the confinements of his boxer briefs. He pulls you closer to the edge of the table, quieting your moan when he slips inside you with his lips. 

The stretch you always felt whenever he entered you had your eyes squeezing shut and your fingers tugging tightly on his hair. “Fuck,” he groaned once he bottomed out, his thumbs digging into the bones of your hips when he gave a sharp thrust. “You always take me so well.”

You moaned in agreement, pulling at the hairs on the base of his neck. “You’re so good to me, A.J.,” you whimpered, tilting your head back when his lips attached to your neck as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He moaned against your skin, his hips hitting yours at a bruising pace. “I love you so fucking much,” he says, pulling you even closer to him. “I always have.”  

His sweet words make you dizzy, as does the feeling of his lips peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulders. “I love you,” 

The table, though sturdy, creaked with each thrust of his hips. You tug on his hair until he lifts his head, allowing you to connect your lips in a searing kiss. His blood had been pretty much wiped off by now, but you still tasted the bitterness of it on his lips. You could only guess how much of it had been smeared on your own face.

It was messy, gross, even, but one of the hottest things you’d ever experienced. While you hated Ghost and hated the fact that he had hurt A.J., he just looked so damn edible all the time, even when he was sporting a bloody nose and a bruised jaw. He wore those wounds proudly, knowing he won both the fight and your heart, though the latter he had claimed a long time ago. 

With each thrust, he slid deeper and deeper into you. Your previous orgasm had made your walls so warm and inviting, A.J. couldn’t help but pick up the pace a bit, the slick streaks he was met with every time he pulled out only fueling him to keep going. 

And your sounds. Fuck. 

He loved the way you sounded when he fucked you like this. You got so lost in the moment and didn��t care how loud you were being. A.J. didn’t care either. The walls were thick and there was insulation in the ceiling, so it’s not like your neighbors could hear how loud you two got when being intimate. 

Even if you were living in a cheap apartment with the thinnest walls ever built, he would still fuck you just like this and take pride in the noise complaints he would undoubtedly receive. How could he not when it was him who got you all riled up and loud.

You let out quiet gasps against his mouth as he fucked into you, your hands wrapping around his biceps. Digging your nails into his tattooed skin, you bite down on his bottom lip as you pull away. “God, you’re so perfect,” he grunted, placing one hand flat against the table behind you. “I remember thinking that the first time I saw you.”

You clench around him at his words. “Five years ago?” You managed to ask as you began to feel lightheaded from the way he reached so deep inside you. 

“Yeah, baby,” he said through a locked jaw, the way your walls tightened around him making his head spin. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

You whimper quietly when his hand that wasn’t next to you reaches down to rub your throbbing clit. “I wanted you for so long,” you whisper. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he confirmed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

You moan loudly, leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbows. As you look down at where you two connected, you were powerless to stop the string of whines that left your lips in unison to the thrusts of his hips. 

“That’s it,” he praises. “That’s my girl, get loud for me.”

Your back arches and you clamp down around him when you feel the knot that had formed in your stomach begin to snap. Unable to not obey his wishes, your brows furrow as you cry out in ecstasy. “Fuck, don’t stop,” you beg, laying flat on your back as your legs began to shake. “Please, Jay, don’t- fuck… don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” he says, picking up the pace of both his hips and his finger. “Not until I feel you come around me, like I know you want to.”

“I do,” you say and press your heel into his lower back. “I want to so badly.”

A.J. leaned down and slid his hand that was on the table up so it was gripping yours, lacing your fingers together. “So do it,” he prompted. His lips brushed against yours as he continued to coax a second orgasm out of you. “Come for me, baby, all over me. Let me feel how good I fuck you.”

“God,” you cry out, feeling your stomach twist and tighten before you were granted with the sweet relief that came when you clenched impossibly tight around him, coming all over him just like he requested you to. “Fuck.”

A.J. groaned loudly as he struggled to keep up the pace, your walls wrapped so tightly around him making the task difficult. “Fuck,” he repeated the word, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull when he caught sight of the way your mouth hung open in silent pleads for him to continue until he was finished. “So fucking good. So tight. You gonna let me come inside you, hm?”

It wouldn’t be the first time, oh, far from it. You and he hadn’t used a condom since the first time you slept together, but he still liked to ask if he could finish while still being buried in you. 

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, craving to feel the heat of his seed as it invades your core. “I want you to. I want it so bad, Jay. Please.” 

You were overstimulated, but that didn’t stop you from allowing him to abuse your spent heat. 

A.J.’s hips stuttered at your begs for him to fill you up, his jaw locking as he stared at your kiss swollen, blood tainted lips. “Fuck,” he muttered, gripping the edge of the table so tightly he was afraid he’d chip the wood. “Fuck, baby.” 

You encouraged his incoming release by sucking him in deeper and whining softly beneath him. “Please,” you pleaded quietly, your core throbbing with the need for a break, but you wouldn’t give yourself that relief until A.J. got his. “Fill me up, A.J., I want it.”

And who was he to deny your wants?

With a groan of your name, he was spilling into you and fucking his come deeper inside you as his pace never let up. You moan loudly at the warmth that flooded through you, reaching both hands down so you could pull him impossibly closer to you by his waist. 

He huffed out a breath once his thrusts finally ceased, his body aching with exhaustion. “I love you so much,” he whispered next to your ear before placing a kiss to the skin underneath it. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull his chest down onto yours, keeping him buried deep within you with your heel still pressed against his back. “I love you, too, A.J.,” you say back, pecking his lips as he tries to catch his breath. “Thank you for protecting me tonight, it was nice to see Ghost get his ass handed to him.”

A.J. laughed loudly before pressing another kiss to your lips, one that was much longer than the previous one. “I’ll always be there to protect you,” he promised, caging you in by placing his forearms on either side of your head. “As for Ghost….well, I’d kick his ass anytime, no matter the situation.”

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[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Five: [Emerald City:]

Summary: You’re forced against your will by three insurgents all the while Jake helplessly watches on. In return? He’s given a gift made only for the broken hearted.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Chapter Warning: ⚠️ This Chapter contains sexual explicit content that may be distressing to some. Reader discretion is advised for the topic of sexual abuse/ non-consensual sexual assault. ⚠️

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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When you get sick it starts out with a single bacterium. One lone, nasty intruder. Pretty soon, the intruder duplicates…it becomes two. Then those two become four, and those four become eights. Then, before your body even knows it: 

It’s under attack. 

It’s an invasion, the question for an aviator who was now classified a prisoner of war is, once the invaders have landed, once they’ve taken over your body, how the hell do you get rid of them. And just how the hell do you get out? 

“Do I not get my flight suit back?” You asked Nathan as he escorted you back down to the basement. “You can’t expect me to stay in this dress forever.” 

“Trust me, you won’t.” Was all the blonde haired blue eyed man replied as he stood guarding you at the back of the elevator. “The Commander has given us very clear instructions.” 

You did what you had done on your way up, counted the descending numbers as they dropped. Seven, six, five, four. The more they dropped towards the basement you felt your heart sink lower and lower. Hope was getting harder to hang onto the longer you were here, the longer time became just another one of society's artificial constructs. 

“Do you know how long we’ve been here for?” You asked as Nathan, the insurgent with the scar, led you out of the elevator down the corridor towards where you and Jake were being kept. “Do you know how long The Commander plans on keeping us alive?” They were questions he had no intention of asking as he held your arm and guided you down the hall. 

But when you saw what had happened to Jake while you were gone none of those questions seemed to matter anymore, you didn’t care about the answers or how long you had been held captive. All you cared about was Jake. 

“JAKE!” You raced into the cell past insurgents that stood idly by. They all had bloody knuckles and smirks that could have given the Cheshire car a run for his money. They’d beaten him within an inch of his life as he hung there with his arms around his head. “Oh my god oh my god—“ 

“Holy shit.” Jake murmured as your hands cupped at his bloodied and bruised cheeks. All he could do was hang his head low, too weak to hold his head up on his own. “I must be dead.” He tried to smile, you could see the blood staining his teeth as he did so and it made your stomach churn. “You look like an angel.” 

“What did they do to you huh?” You asked softly as you held Jake's head in your hands. “Jake? You with me? I’m here, I’m right here.” It was the simplest of reminders but it had worked for you so far. Perhaps knowing you were right in front of him would give Jake a little more strength. 

“Hi.” Was all Jake managed to reply before his head was heavy in your hands, he couldn’t fight any longer so he used your hands as support. “Hey Hotshot.” 

“Hey big guy.” You tried to fight off your own tears as you really took a moment to assess the damage that had been done. Cuts and bruises littered Jake's face. Blood dripped from his ears, nose and mouth. His hair was covered in sweat and blood. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

“I’m okay.” But the worst of it all was the way his flight suit was torn to shreds, leaving Jake in his boxer briefs and undershirt. “You’re so pretty.” It shouldn’t have but it made your heart flutter as you placed your forehead against Jakes gently. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Nathan, the main insurgent you had come to the conclusion of, interrupted as you spun around to put your body between him and Jake. With your hands not on his cheeks anymore Jake's head fell forward to rest against your shoulder. “We haven’t finished with you two yet.” 

“He’s clearly had enough!” You hissed as you stepped forward to puff your chest. “What do you expect to get out of him now when he can’t even formulate a goddamn sentence!!” Without thinking, without hesitation, you shoved at the blonde haired blue eyed man’s chest. “He’s not going to give you what you want if he can’t talk!” 

“Okay enough—hold her.” Nathan ordered two of the insurgents to keep you still. They did. They held your arms behind your back and kept you from squirming. “We know exactly what will make your friend here talk.” 

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Three words that made your heart ache. Jake was barely conscious but he still had to do whatever he could to protect you. 

“Lieutenant Seresin, my men have been down here for the better half of two hours trying to retrieve vital information that could help us.” Nathan explained as he stalked around the cell. His hands worked at his belt, unbuckling it slowly before he looped it off his waist. “This will be your final opportunity to give us the information we’ve been asking you to provide before we take drastic measures.”

“Go. To. Hell.” Jake spat as he held his head up. He was using all the strength he had to look at you. He thought for sure he was in for it, that they were going to beat him up some more in front of you. But Jake could take that, he could take anything they threw his way. “I’m not telling you fuckers shit, you wanna smack me around some more so fucking be it.” 

“Fair enough.” Nathan sighed dramatically as he hung his head low in fake disbelief. He’d been waiting for this. “Take her clothes off.” 

“Wait—“ You gasped as you felt the hands of the men who had been holding you still begun to unzip your dress. “No no no no wait, stop!” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know what was happening. “Stop! No please—!” Jake took a few seconds to catch up to what was happening, you couldn’t blame him though, he was barely conscious as it was. 

“This is on you Lieutenant Seresin.” Nathan turned Jake’s head in the direction of where you were being assaulted. “You could have prevented this, if you’d have just told us who gave you these orders.” 

“Wait wait wait! Don’t touch her!” Jake begged as the realisation set in. “No no no no, please, anything but this, please.” 

“STOOPP—!” You screamed as your dress fell down around your ankles, leaving you far too exposed. “Please, I'm begging you!” It all felt like it was happening in slow motion. Calloused hands crept their way across the expanse of your body, lips were on your neck leaving marks that would linger for days. “Jake! Please! Help me!” 

“I’ll tell you!” Jake backtracked as he watched one of the insurgents unbuckle his belt. “I’ll tell you anything, just don’t hurt her!” Next was the zipper as you tried to kick and scream your way out of the tortuous hold. “Don’t do this, leave her alone, I’m begging you, you don’t have to do this.” 

“Too late now Lieutenant.” Nathan chuckled as he took a piece of cloth from out of his back pocket and gagged Jake with it so he couldn’t speak. He tied it at the back of his neck so there was no chance in hell it could come loose. “You’re gonna stand right here and enjoy the consequences of your actions.” Your screams of terror broke Jake's heart as he mumbled around the gag. There was nothing he could do as you were forced against your will. “I’m gonna go fuck your little girlfriend now, hopefully after she’ll be a fountain of knowledge and we won’t have to do this again.” It was a threat Jake now knew wasn’t empty. “But then again I hope I get to do this every fucking day.” 

“NOO!! STOP!” Your cries were more painful than anything Jake had ever endured. He strained and struggled against the chains and rope that held him in place as he cried with you, for you. “JAKE!!” It felt like you were all alone when you couldn’t hear Jake's voice. 

“Let’s give your boyfriend a show huh princess?” Nathan smirked as the two other guards held you in place up against the concrete wall while he stood between your legs, jerking himself off. “I’m gonna enjoy this, oh so much.” 

“Close your eyes!” You begged Jake over the shoulder of the man who was about to force himself on you. “Don’t you dare watch.” You pleaded for Jake to listen. “Please.” 

So he didn’t. He didn’t watch. He lowered his head and cried as hard as he could as your screams echoed off the walls and ricocheted against him. It was torture, pure torture. Jake had never heard anything like it before and he wouldn’t wish that kind of experience on his worst enemy. 

“AAAHHHHH!!” It felt like it lasted a lifetime. “STOPPP!” The pain, the fear, the degradation. “IT HURTS!” Nothing you said and nothing you did could stop the three men who were on you like a bad rash from their assault on your body. “STTOOPP PLEASE!” Your cries for help were the most painful things to listen to as Jake tried whatever he could to free himself. The rusted cuffs dug further and further into his wrist the more he struggled though. 

You didn’t think it could get any worse, you thought that it was over when the blonde haired blue eyed man came with an evil grin that made you believe the devil himself was scared of these men: But then he said one word that made you want to die. 

“Switch.” Jake's eyes went wide at the thought of it. No. No this couldn’t be happening. They were all going to have their way with you. “Get her on the ground.” 

“NOOOO!” You cried out as loud as you could, so loud you thought you were going to lose your voice. “DON'T! DONT FUCKING—“ Before you had a chance to finish your sentence, a single fist belted itself against your mouth. The force alone rendered you speechless before that same hand was squishing your cheeks together as blood pouring out your nose. 

“Just fucking take it, because we’re not gonna stop not matter how much you fucking scream.”

When the next hit came you felt your body growing weaker as Hake muffled screams became the only thing that you could focus on. He was there, he was still alive, he was still breathing. 

What do you do when the infection hits you, when it takes over? Do you do what you’re supposed to do and take your medicine? Or do you learn to live with the thing and hope someday it goes away? 

Or do you just give up entirely and let it kill you? 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It had been relentless and felt neverending, but eventually, after the three men were finished having their way with you, you were left naked and curled up into yourself on the dirt of the cell floor. 

Jake stood still tied up with his arms above his head and a gag in his mouth, unsure if you were alive or not. It had been brutal. You'd asked him not to watch but every now and then he’d look up to see you taking another beating, another man, another position. 

Time had become an artificial construct in the dimly lit cell the two of you were in. Jake wasn't sure how long it had been since the insurgents left and locked the door behind them to when a woman was stepping in with a pile of folded clothes and medical supplies. He’d never seen her before, but he could very much recognise the man standing behind her in the hallway. The Commander himself. 

“I'm going to leave theses here and I'm going to untie you, if you try anything, The Commander will kill me.” She explained as she placed the clothes she had brought in for you on the ground beside Jake. he watched her every move as rage bubbled over in his system. The first thing the woman with red hair and brown eyes did was take the fabric from out of Jake's mouth, he spat blood to the side as she did so. 

“It's a good thing for you that I don't stoop as low as to hurt innocent women!!” Was all he said all the while eyeing off The Commander who stood a great enough distance so that even if Jake were to lunge his way, he could walk away. “Who are you?” 

“I'm just an innocent woman, Lieutenant.” She did what she had promised she would do as let Jake go from his restraints. His arms ached as they finally came down from being up over his head for so long. His legs crumbled as he tried to support his own body weight. He’d been beaten pretty bad, so bad he really did think for a minute there he was surely going to die. “I urge you to cooperate.” The lady with red hair and brown eyes spoke as she stood over Jake. “The Commander isn't a forging man.” 

“Trust me, neither am I.” Again it was directed at The Commander who stood just outside the cell. “I'll gut you from the inside out if anyone comes near hurt again, do you hear me you son of a bitch?” Jake snarled as he rose to his knees, bloodied and bruised beyond belief. It took every ounce of strength he had left to front a brave face. “Anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, i'm coming for you.” 

“We’ll see.” Was all The Commander said before he walked away out of Jake's line of sight. The woman in front of him took his hand and left a small piece of crumpled up paper and left it in Jake's hand. She gave him an all knowing look before she turned on her heels and made her way out of the cell. 

“For what it's worth, Hangman, I sincerely apologise for what happened to your friend.” was the last thing she said before she locked the cell behind her and vanished from sight. Jake immediately opened the piece of paper she had left in his hand. Much to his own disbelief he couldn't believe what he was reading. 

“Hold tight, Stay alive – Rooster.” 

Jake was in so much shock that he almost forgot where he was, what had just happened and who was with him. But the minute he heard you whimper in the corner of the cell, he was making his way over to you. 

“Y/n?” It couldn't have been softer if Jake tried. “Y/n, I'm coming closer alright, it's just me.” All you did was whimper out a few struggled sobs. Jake's heart couldn't have broken any more than it already was for you. “I'm not gonna hurt you.” He made sure to remind you as he crawled closer and closer to where you were curled up. “It's just me, Jake, I'm not going to hurt you.” The more Jake said it the more he hoped you were listening, because soon enough he was right by your side. “I'm gonna touch you now, gently, and I'm gonna hold you alright?” As Jake let his hand softly graze against your shoulder, you screamed as loud as you could. It was enough to have Jake jumping back to give you a little more space. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” 

“Y/n it's just me.” 

“GET AWAY FROM ME! LET GO OF ME!!” 

“Y/n, hey hey hey hey it’s me—it's just me, I’m right here.” Jake reminded you as your eyes met his. He showed you both his hands before he reached for yours. “It's just me, I'm here, you're okay, I've got you.” The look on your face told Jake everything he needed to know, you were completely and utterly broken. For you? That had been your breaking point. 

“Oh.” Was all you said before you were collapsing into Jake's embrace and crying into his chest. “Ow.” Everything hurt, everything ached, everything was numb. 

“I'm so so so sorry Y/n.” Jake sobbed with you as the two of you sat curled up in the corner of the cell. “You didn't deserve that, I should've just told them what they wanted to hear.” 

“If you make it out of here–” You mumbled into the fabric of Jake's black T-shirt as he held you tight to his chest. “Please don't tell my dad what they did to me.” You asked through wet lashes as you looked up to where Jake was looking down at you. “It would break his heart.” Jake didn't want to think about it but he knew your mind was already going there. There was a chance here that the two of you might not make it home. But the note Jake had just received gave him just a glimmer of hope to keep fighting, keep hope in his heart, and to protect you till his dying breath. 

“How about we get you some clothes?” You didn't acknowledge Jake as he rubbed the pad of his thumb softly against your cheek, catching the tears that fell freely and mixed together with the blood you shed. “You with me Hollywood.” Your eyes were glazed over, sure you were looking at Jake but it felt like you were looking right through him as your mind went somewhere else. “Sweetheart, look at me?” Jake asked you softly, only then did you come back to him. “There she is, there's my girl.” 

“I need you to kill me before they get a chance to do that to me again.” You whimpered as your bottom lip quivers and your hand went to cover Jakes as he touched your cheek. “Don't let them do that to me again, please Jake, please.” Jake thought his heart couldn't break any more, but then you asked him to kill you: 

And he knew he’d die with you. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

In the days that followed you didn't speak all that much. You attended to Jake's wounds and cleaned him up the best you could with the small amount of saline you’d been given, but other than that? You barely spoke. Jake knew it was a trauma response, but he missed your voice. 

Jake had cleaned out the cuts on your cheeks from the rings on your abusers fingers as best he could, but he knew just by the looks of how deep they were that by the time they healed? They’d leave nasty scars behind. Forever branding you a sexual assault survivor. 

“I miss my bed.” You mumbled quietly as Jake held you close. The two of you were just lying there near the back wall, as far away as you could be from the cell door. He sandwiched you between the wall and his chest while he drew unidentifiable objects into your hip just to let you know he was there. 

“I miss Penny's pumpkin pie.” Jake replied, he wasn't about to urge you to keep talking, but whenever you felt like it, he’d reply. “And i'll deny it if you ever tell him but I even miss the sound of Rooster playing that damn piano.” Jake couldn't see it, but he knew a smile had crept its way across your face for the first time in a few days. 

“How long do you reckon we’ve been here?” Jake had been wondering that very same question, it was hard to keep track. There was no way to track the sun or to know if it was night out. There was no fresh air to tell the temperature or a clock to watch time tick past. 

“Few weeks maybe? Could be a few days still till we see anyone.” That's usually what happened. The insurgents would come, they’d rough one of you or the both of you up for information neither you or Jake were willing to give, and then they’d vanish, leaving you to put each other back together just to break you again and again and again. “Everytime I get close to breaking, I just think of Hewens.” Jake reminded you. “She gave them what they wanted and she still ended up dead.” 

“Do you really think that note was from Rooster?” You asked all the while you turned around to face Jake. Both lying on your sides respectively. You watched as he nodded. 

“Hold tight, Stay alive.” Jake repeated to you as he kissed your forehead. “That was something our Fitness Instructor at Acam used to say whenever someone was bitching about the session.” It gave the both of you just a little hope to cling to. “They know we’re here, that woman, she’s on our team, we just have to stay alive long enough for them to get us out.” 

“Seresin–” It sounded like a guard, Jake closed his eyes at the thought of being taken away from you. He felt your hands grip his shirt at the idea. “The Commander wants to see you, upstairs.” 

“No thanks, I'm good where I am.” Jake replied without so much as turning to face the man who stood at the cell door. Jake could see the tears beginning to well in your eyes at the idea of being separated again, the last time they did that he was beaten to a pulp and you were wined, dined and taken against your will. “Shhh don't you ever spend a second worrying about me, we’re okay.” 

“I'm not gonna ask you again, get up.” You could hear the awful sound of that taser you hated so much. The buzzing sound caused you to flinch in Jake's arms as you buried your head. He just wanted to protect you at all costs. Now more than ever before. 

“Y/n, i'll be right back.” It was the hardest of goodbyes so far, knowing that whatever was to come could only be as bad as what you'd just endured a few days prior. These guys were really upping the anti trying to get whatever information they could out of the pair of you. “Listen to me for a minute?” Jake was as gentle as he could be as his fingertips grazed your chin, tilting it up so that you were looking right into his soul through his emerald green eyes. “One of the reasons I didn't talk to you an awful lot before this mission was because you were the first woman I'd met in years that made me think about what my life outside my career looked like.” Your eyes don't sparkle the same way they did the first time Jake met you. They were clouded with misery, with fear, with uncertainty that you'd ever get out of this hell. “I thought if I got to know you, in any aspect, I'd fall in love with you.” It was an admission Jake wished he never had to have voiced in this environment. But you needed something, anything to keep you going, and he wasn't lying, not about any of it. “And here I am anyway–” Jake took a second to admire the way the corner of your lips curled up into the corners of your cheeks, you really needed to hear this. “Head over heels in love with you.” 

“You better not just be saying that to get me to not give up Seresin.” You choked out a small chuckle as Jake brought your forehead to his lips. “Because I'll be pissed if you give me the cold shoulder when we get back.” 

“When we get back it's just gonna be you and me Hollywood.” Jake had to go, he had to leave you in the cell that had become your home for whatever amount of time had passed you by. “Don't go having too much fun without me.” 

“Promise you’ll come back to me?” You nearly begged as you watched Jake get up off the ground. He wouldn't admit it to you but he wasn't doing all that well physically. His body was littered in bruises that looked more painful with every passing day. The cuts that peppered his body looked angry and agitated even if you'd cleaned them out. He’d been beaten and beaten hard, there was only so much a person could take before that took a toll. 

But still, he was your rock through all of it. He was your Jake, your guiding light. Your only hope.

“Without a shadow of a doubt, I promise, I'm coming back to you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The last thing Jake could remember before he was waking up strapped to a metal table with a patch over his chest was walking down the corridor away from the cell he’d been in with you. He couldn't remember being stuck with a needle in the back of his neck as he entered the elevator. He couldn't remember falling into a heap on the floor of that very elevator and he definitely didn't remember being carted in for surgery of any kind. 

“Jake.” The Commander smiled when he saw Jake was awake. “Good to see you my man.” He beamed as he clapped his hands together. “How are you feeling?” 

“What the hell did you do to me?” Nothing made sense, how long had Jake been gone for? How long had you been left alone in the silence of that dingy cell for? He told you he was going to come back, hopefully, you still believed that. Hopefully, Jake could keep his promise. “Answer me right now you son of a bitch!” Jake spat as he tried to move, his chest hurt though, something pulled under his skin and he winced. 

The Commander didn't reply as he walked out of Jake's line of sight for a minute or two, only to come back with a cage with a white rabbit in it. He shook it violently, aggressively, enough for the rabbit to lose its footing and stubble all over the handheld cage. Jake watched in utter confusion until the Rabbit fell and the Commander stopped shaking the cage. 

“Do you know what a pacemaker is?” The Commander asked as he placed the cage back down on the table off to the side. The Rabbit inside it now laid dead. 

“What?” Jake growled as he strained against the restraint that kept him down against the medical table. 

“They stick them in the tickers of people who've had bypass work, whose hearts need just a little jump, a kick start.” Jake knew what a pacemaker was, his pop had one put in when he was about twenty two. Still The Commander went on explaining like he was some kind of idiot. “That rabbit had a pacemaker set to deliver a kick start should it get too excited, or anxious, or frightened.” Why was he telling Jake all of this? “Or should it try to escape.” Ah, there it was. “Assuming that you were telling the truth about your age and weight in your last physical, your resting heart rate should be about seventy beats per minute.” Jake knew The Commander had been able to pull your files, and as it turned out Jake had told the truth in his last physical. Now he was kinda thanking his past self for not showboating to the nurse. “Your active heart rate however, that would be about one hundred and forty, which is the point at which your pacemaker will cause your heart to explode.” 

“You put a pacemaker inside me!” Jake stirred as he tried to sit up, a small beeping that increased in sound and speed could be heard as The Commander stepped closer to wrap a watch around Jake's wrist. 

“The watch monitors your pulse, if you get within fifteen beats of your danger zone it'll start to beep, if and when it beeps you're gonna wanna relax yourself.” This wasn't good, this really wasn't good. “Do some deep breathing, some yoga.” The Commander smirked as he tapped Jake cheek twice. “You've got the time.”  

“If you want me dead why don't you just shoot me and get it over with?” Jake asked as he let his head rest against the metal table as he looked up at the fluorescent lights above. It was the same room one the insurgents had shot you in. The one with the white walls and the white floors that smelled like a sterile doctors office. 

“Because we’re not cold blooded killers Jacob, we give fair chances.” This really was hell on earth. “And another thing, Miss Y/l/n–” 

“You touch her again and I swear to god–” Jake paused when he heard the beeping from the watch, his heart rate was increasing. Fuck. 

“You tell her what we did, what we put in you, and we’ll put one in her too–” The Commander threatened as he fixed up his jacket.

“And I can assure you her heart rate won't stay nearly low enough the next time my men wanna have a go.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

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[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Rollin’ and Tumblin’ Chapter 1

Rollin’ and Tumblin’ Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: You’ve lived a sheltered and privileged life, only learning what it truly means to live and love after meeting Jake, a young man of unusual western sorts who was hired to work on your father’s farm.

Warnings: Cowboy Jake, hunger in relation to unhealthy eating habits, knives.

Word Count: 3.1k

April 1903

It was the spring of your twenty third year. The day started off like any other day would. However, you were dreading the events that were scheduled for later in the day- a dinner party where you would be matched off with a wealthy man your father and mother had chosen for you to marry, William Drayton. His family, much like yours, did not care for anyone who did not live up to their standards of wealth and class. The Draytons had monopolized the oil business in the south and southwest portions of the nation, which guaranteed generations of wealth, something your father more than anyone was particularly keen on.

It was all politics. No one cared about true love or real happiness. You had never even met the man and you were expected to, from this night forward, spend the rest of your life with him. And you didn’t have any other choice. Most girls you knew were paired off with men between ages seventeen and nineteen. Not twenty three. Time was ticking and your parents were not allowing you to waste any more of it after years of you protesting marriage against their wishes.

All you’ve known your entire life is etiquette and poise. You were taught, or should we say trained to be meek and mild because men like that. To have thoughts and opinions of your own may as well be a sin, and even the thought of speaking up or out of turn would send you on a train with a one way ticket to Hell. Manners were shoved down your throat and you didn’t have a single memory of not looking and acting perfect every day of your life. You were a prisoner in your own body. But this was your life and there was no way out of it. 

The corset bounding your torso felt like a million pins sticking into you from every direction, pushing in harder each time you inhaled. The pink ribbon tying it together was pulled tight, keeping you painfully caged inside it, which seemed to be a physical representation of how you felt living your actual life. 

You sat in the parlor room of your home with your mother for breakfast. As you raised your glass to your lips, the familiar sound of your father’s voice began in the kitchen and echoed through the rest of the house. Along with his voice was another, a deeper, smooth voice that you couldn’t recognize. 

His footsteps along with the sound of another pair of feet got louder as he walked down the hallway and toward the parlor room to greet you. 

You turned your head as he appeared in the doorway and wished you a good morning.

“Good morning, Daddy,” you replied.

“I have someone to introduce to you both.”

With his words, came another man through the doorway. 

“This is Jacob. I’ve hired him as our farmhand. He’ll be in charge of things so you’ll see him around quite a lot,” he explained.

This wasn’t unusual. You were used to people around the house and on the land outside. You had your lady’s maids, cooks, house maids, and a few farmers who took care of your father’s pride and joy, the crops and cattle. 

But what was unusual, was Jacob himself. 

First of all, he was around your age, which was unlikely. Typically your father hired men well into middle age to be in charge of things related to the farm. Anyone your age, much like yourself, was typically treated as your father’s inferior. 

Second, he wasn’t the typical farmer you’d seen around before. He had more of a western look. Something you’d only ever seen in books or heard about through word of mouth. He wore a hat and a brown leather jacket which covered a blue denim shirt. His pants were denim as well, ripped and dirty, and you were surprised your father would let him into your home in that state. Lastly, the boots as well as the chaps he wore led to the conclusion that he dabbled in horse riding.

He took his hat off and held it over his chest to bow his head at you and Mother.

Upon taking it off, light brown wavy hair that was tangled and clumped together in every direction tumbled down to his shoulders. He had streaks of blonde in it, seemingly from being out in the sun. It was dirty and messy- yet incredibly fascinating. You had never seen that length of hair on a man. Ever. 

His face was that of someone you figured would only ever be a figment of your imagination. He had tanned skin and deep eyes that were a light shade of brown. His nose was prominent and strong. His lips naturally curved up into a smile with just a touch of facial hair surrounding them.

The only word that came to mind was handsome. And that didn’t even begin to cover it. 

You smiled at him and before you knew it, he was on his was out the door following close behind your father. The sound of their voices heading down the hallway were silenced with the shutting of the back door and you sat there for a minute just looking at the now empty doorway he once stood in. 

You pulled yourself out of your daydream to continue your breakfast and idle chat with your mother before finishing and heading to your room to get ready for the night’s festivities. 

The next few hours were spent in your room with your lady’s maids. Pulling at your hair to get it to curl perfectly, pushing and pinching at your face to color your lips and blush your cheeks, and the most dreaded of all but the expected, corset. 

Once in your gown for the night, you were accompanied downstairs where your home had transformed into a party that was already in full swing. You put on your best smile, a false one, but a smile nonetheless, and began the night. 

After just a bit of time, your father, dressed in his best tuxedo, found you, linked his arm in yours and led you to the dining area to meet your future husband. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach with dread as you followed him to your doom and could see exactly who he was leading you to at the head of the table. You wouldn’t say he was particularly ugly, so to speak. But he wasn’t exactly what you would deem to be good looking, or even average looking for that matter. 

“Daddy,” you whispered, “I really don’t want to do this.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrowing and your face dropping as nothing but anxiety and dread flowed through your blood.

He tugged on your arm with his, pulling you closer to him in a harsh manner. He smiled and spoke to you firmly through his teeth.

“You will do this and you will do it with a smile on your face. You are twenty three years old. Do you know how difficult it was for me to find someone even willing to marry you? You should be thankful his time in the army set him just as far back as you. His time at least was well spent. Now, I should not have to remind you how to act tonight. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you replied through a shaky breath, feeling absolutely defeated.

Before he could even reply, you were at arms distance with your future husband- meeting him, smiling, and sitting down next to him for dinner.

Dinner was a nightmare. The only topics discussed were politics, stocks, and money- none of which you understood a word of. You just smiled and nodded throughout dinner. Desperately wishing your corset would rip at the seams if you took a deep enough breath or ate enough food, both of which would be wildly inappropriate actions on your part. 

So you sat there, uncomfortable and on the verge of tears for the night, all hid under a smile which falsely showed your eagerness to be there and to be wed. 

After dessert, the women excused themselves to bed as the men began getting ready for rounds of cigars and brandy. Your father and now fiancé bid you goodnight with kisses to your hand. A hand with, much to your dismay, showed off a newly placed diamond on your ring finger. 

Your lady’s maids met you at the base of the stairs to return to your bedroom to undress for the night but you took a turn and headed for the kitchen. 

You walked through, grabbing an untouched piece of peach pie off a plate and headed out the backdoor. 

Darkness surrounded you as you walked through the fields and down to the swing you used to play on as a little girl. You picked up the piece of pie and brought it to your mouth, taking a massive bite. You continued eating, fully letting yourself enjoy food for once.

Once the feeling of hunger was satisfied within you, there was no stopping the tears that flooded your eyes. They had become two waterfalls, and your lap had become soaked with the tears that had fallen onto it.

Your future was being chosen for you. You’d tried to fight it for so long and now, you’d finally lost the fight. 

One by one, you watched your friends marry off into wealth and start families of their own to continue the toxic cycle, knowing eventually, it would have to be you. And now, the time had come. It was you. There was no escape from it. No way out. Not even a glimmer of hope. 

You looked down at your left hand to see the ring placed there against your will earlier that night and sobbed harder. 

You should be grateful. You should be happy. You were born into wealth and were guaranteed to have it for life. You knew there were so many people out there that had it worse. So many people that deserved everything you had just been handed. You were lucky. Yet, despite everything you had, you felt every terrible feeling one could ever feel. 

The sound of footsteps in the grass behind you caused you to sit up straight and wipe your eyes and mouth.

“You alright, Miss?” you heard a deep voice speak softly from behind you. 

You turned around to see Jacob there with a knapsack slung over his shoulder.

“I’m fine, thank you, Jacob,” you replied as you turned your head back to look down at your tear soaked dress.

It was silent for a moment. The sounds of crickets and cicadas filled their air until his voice broke through the sounds of them.

“Well,” he began, “have a good night then.”

You heard his boots crunch down on the grass underneath them as he began to walk away when all of sudden, the words tumbled out from your mouth without any hesitation.

“Do you ever just feel like you’re trapped? Like you’re on a train that is going full speed into a mountain with no tunnel to go through and if there was a tunnel, no light at the end of that tunnel to save you? Like, you’re going to crash and explode into flames and all you can do is sit there and wait for your inevitable death?” 

Instantly, a sense of relief washed over you as the words you’d been holding in for so long had finally been released.

However, the instant regret of revealing your feelings to a stranger who now wasn’t speaking had begun to bubble inside you.

“I think that corset may be a little too tight, Miss. S’messin’ with your brain,'' he laughed. His voice was deep and had the tiniest twang that held onto the ends of his words. Not a lot, but just enough.

You huffed out a laugh and turned around to him again to see him smiling, with his teeth, glowing bright in the moonlight.

You reached under your dress and behind your back for the ribbon that was keeping you painfully locked in.

“There’s this, this stupid bow that I can’t get undone on it,” you said as you bit your bottom lip in concentration.

“I, I could hel-help you. If you, uh, if that’s what you want?” he asked hesitantly.

“Would you? This thing is terrible uncomfortable.”

You took your arms out of the sleeves of your dress and pushed it down, exposing the laced up piece of undergarments to him. 

Was ripping the top of your dress off your arms in front of a man you hardly knew against everything you’d ever been taught was lady-like and proper? Absolutely. 

Was wearing a ring against your will to be wed to a man who you hardly knew against everything you’d ever wanted in life? Absolutely.

It had evened itself out in your head and that was good enough for you. 

You pulled your hair in front of you and turned your head back to face forward as he walked closer to you.

“Woah,” he whispered, “I don’t want to cause any harm or disrespect, Miss. But this, this is a job for someone who… isn’t me,” he said as his eyes grew wide at the sight of the ring on your finger. 

“If you’re talking about my…” you paused and closed your eyes, “fiancé,” you continued after choking out the word, “I’ve said more words to you tonight than I’ve ever even said to him. But if you wont help me, I’ll, I’ll just do it myself,” you huffed as you reached for the satin bow behind you. 

Your fingers toyed with it, as you struggled to get it to come loose when you felt the warmth of his hands on top of yours. 

You stilled your hands as his rested on top of yours for a minute. They were big, and rough and the feeling of them was completely foreign to you.

Defeat was a familiar feeling to you so what was one more round of it? You dropped your hands back down and rested them on your lap, letting him take the lead to free you.

He pulled and tugged at the strings for a while.

“Who the hell tied this thing?” he laughed.

“My lady’s maid, Katherine started it. But my mother finished it off.”

“Jesus,” he whispered as his fingers unsuccessfully fought against the light pink ribbon for release. 

He stopped for a moment and you turned your head again to get a good look at him.

He bent down and reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife and taking the cover off it to reveal a sharp, silver blade.

You swallowed hard at the sight of a knife just inches away from your body, and someone who was practically a stranger to you holding onto it.

“Now, don’t worry. I ain’t gonna hurtcha,” he said calmly as he brought the knife to the tie and began cutting his way through it.

The tearing of the satin fabric was music to your ears and with one tug of the now cut strings from Jacob behind you, you were free.

You breathed in and out hard now that you actually could and hunched over to relax your neck and back for the first time in hours. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. 

After a few seconds of relaxing your once stiff muscles, you stood up from the swing and turned to face him.

“The pleasure was mine,” he replied, “And I’m, uh, sorry about the ribbon. I can pay your father to replace it,” he reasoned as he put the knife back in his pocket.

“No. No it’s fine I have dozens of others, Jacob.”

“Jake,” he said bluntly.

You stared at him for a second, confused, before he continued again, “M’names Jacob. But my friends call me Jake.” 

Jake. You liked the sound of that.

You nodded your head and peered past him to see your mother in the doorway, looking out at you. 

“Well, Jake, again, I thank you kindly for your help. But I believe it’s time that I bid you goodnight,” you said, smiling at him.

“Goodnight,” he replied, lifting your right hand and bringing it to his lips.

He held eye contact with you as he placed a soft kiss to the top of your hand. 

Instantly, you felt your body light up from the inside. Your heart began racing. Your stomach began fluttering with what felt like thousands of little butterflies inside it.

The feeling of a man's lips on your hand had been felt by you before-from your father and from William just minutes earlier. However, when they did it, you felt nothing but misery and disgust. But when Jake did it, you felt the complete opposite.

He lowered your hand a bit but held onto it as he continued speaking, “If you ever need any help again, you know where to find me,” he said, lifting his chin to gesture to the barn in the direction he had come from. 

A soft smile and nod were given to him in return before you walked past him and toward your house. 

You were but a few feet past him when you heard him call out your name. 

Your head turned around to see him biting his lip and holding back a smile.

“You might wanna,” he said as he gestured for you to put your dress back over your chest and arms, “before you go inside, back to your party.”

Immediately you felt all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks and you were thankful he wouldn’t be able to see the embarrassment on  your face in the darkness of the night. 

An involuntary giggle left your lips and he let out a laugh with you. 

You lifted your dress back up over the undone corset and back over your arms, turned to face your house, and walked quickly through the grass and back inside where you fought back a smile as you snuck upstairs.

A few moments later, you entered your bedroom and peeked out your window onto the gravel street below. Sitting tall on the back of a brown horse was Jake. 

He looked up to your window and you gave him a small wave. He tipped the brim of his hat at you before giving his horse a gentle kick underneath him and trotting off into the night. 

You watched him leave with a full smile on your face and a few more butterflies in your stomach. You turned around once he was out of sight only to be met with your mother standing in the doorway of your bedroom with a straight face, staring back at you. 

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x you #jake gvf fanfic #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka fan fic

[topguncortez]

Court of Thieves

|| Prologue

Jake Seresin x Reader AU | series masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: years after your wedding to the King, a wedding in which he promised to love and care for you till your final breath.

word count: 625

warnings: mentions of being imprisoned, mentions of burning flesh, mentions of beheading, betrayal, treason.

It was raining. You were never one to like rainy days. You couldn’t go outside and enjoy the vast gardens that surrounded the palace grounds. The scent of mildew and copper made your head hurt. And the castle felt more like a prison when the sun wasn’t able to shine through the large windows. But you assumed, if you were going to die, you would rather it be on a rainy day. 

Your throat felt like sandpaper from the hours you spent crying on the floor of the tower room you were in. You were sure that your stomach was starting to eat itself. You could hardly bring yourself to eat, the anxiety in your body was making it hard to keep anything down. Occasionally sounds of other prisoners would filter in through the walls, reminding you that you weren’t the only one awaiting your fate from the King. You buried your head in your pillow when the noise would get too loud, knowing that someone was about to lose their head. The scent of burning flesh made your own skin crawl. 

“No Queen had ever been put to death in Brinefell.” 

Those words had been spoken to you many years ago when you first traveled to Landing Center. You had feared getting married to the then Crown Prince of Brinefell. You didn’t know a single thing about him other than that he was a flirt, a pretty boy with a pretty face. He wasn’t one for settling down and had no intention of ever settling down. But that had all changed when he found himself suddenly in charge of the throne. 

You knew your marriage was only because your father had a debt to pay to the then King. But somewhere along the line, you had fallen in love with your King. You had tried not to, for so many months, you had tried so hard to not fall in love with those gorgeous green eyes, his devilish charm, and his beautiful smile. But Jake made it easy. He made it almost too easy to fall in love. 

“Maybe I was always the fool,” You whispered to yourself. 

“What, your majesty?” One of the maids, Katherine, asked, as she pinned back your hair. 

“Nothing,” You said, looking down at the small bible in your hands. Katherine nodded and finished your hair, stepping back and curtseying to you when she was finished. 

From hearing the guards talk, you knew that today was your trial. You were hoping that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to change your fate. That the King was still the man that you had fallen in love with. That he was still the man that you had children with. That he was still the man who would stand between the heavens and earth to see you smile. 

There was a knock on the door pulling you out of your thoughts. You stood up, smoothing your hands over your black dress, trying your best to collect yourself. 

“Come in,” You said softly. Your voice felt rough from the days of not speaking. 

The head guard, Sir Anthony walked in through the door, a grim look on his face. You felt your legs begin to shake, and bile rise in your throat. You didn’t even need to be told, it was written clearly on his face. Swallowing, you nodded your head, giving him the go-ahead to tell you the news from the Castle. Sir Anthony sighed, pulling the scroll in his hands, and sparing you a glance before reading the script. A single tear fell down your face as you fell to your knees. 

“No Queen had ever been put to death in Brinefell.”  

Well, that was once true.

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note: if your name is crossed out, it's because I can't tag you. Two lets play a game on how many references to other shows and moves I make in each chapter

#top gun #top gun AU #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick AU #Jake seresin #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake seresin x y/n #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin AU #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman AU #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #court of thieves

[rebelliousstories]

Tall, Dark, and Handsome

Relationship: David Loki x Reader

Fandom: Prisoners

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Pinning, Mentions of Dark Themes including Death, Abuse, Horrible Childhoods, and Crimes Against Children

Word Count: 2,808

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: There were two things that David Loki knew to be true; 1. There was a mysterious cup of coffee on his table when ever he left the room. And 2. The woman he likes has no clue about his feelings.

There were certain universal truths. The sun would come up, only to be replaced by the moon. Humans needed air, water, and food to survive. And David Loki was a workaholic. He was in the prescient by 6:00 A.M. and often left by 6:00 P.M. if there was no case. If there was a case, he spent the night in a jail cell bed instead of going home. He poured his heart and soul into his work. The other universal truth that would happen like clockwork; a coffee would always be waiting on his desk shortly before he arrived at work.

Some days, it would be there right as he walked to his desk for the first time. Some days, it would be there shortly after he left his desk in the morning after dropping off his stuff. If he was sleeping overnight, a fresh cup was waiting for him patiently outside the cell. For just about as long as he had worked in the station, this had happened. It infuriated the man. For years, David had yet to find out who this person was, or why they left a cup of coffee for him first thing in the morning. While he really appreciated the gesture, he would have preferred if he was able to know the identity of the person. Surprisingly, being a detective didn’t help. He didn’t notice anyone staring at him for a long time, or frequenting his area of the department more than they had to.

Eight years this had tortured him. Eight years of a cup of coffee every day he worked. Thousands of cups of coffee over the last eight years, and he still had no clue who left them for him. Loki realized a while ago that his secret admirer would remain a secret forever it seems. Sure, he had his theories, but they were for the most part probably credible, except one that he viewed as outlandish.

Theory number one: Cheryl. She worked as a secretary, essentially. Doing the filing, paperwork, organizing media and press. She always made sure to tell everyone that she had to leave the police academy for personal reasons, otherwise she would have been in uniform. Her leaving had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was trying to sleep her way through the department to get passed through the academy. David always thought she was a decent worker, but she definitely was trying to not have to work super hard. Cheryl’s sights had been set on the detective since she set foot inside the department. Her advances used to be very brazen, until a few straight to the point shut downs turned her away from trying with Loki again. That didn’t stop the longing glances, and the rumors that she started to circulate. Rumors that they had in fact been together secretly but had to break it off. Most people just tuned her out; who would believe that David Loki would have the time for a partner?

One theory he hoped wasn’t true.

Theory number two: Jessie.

Jessie was a kind, older woman that looked after the prescient and its members. She brought in brownies, cookies, and food for the detectives and officers. David didn’t see much of her during his shift due to her work in the evidence room, but she was his only other legitimate theory. He could see her leaving the coffee on his desk, as she watched how he overworked himself. But there were definitely times that he had his normal coffee, and she had yet to show up for work or even work at all that day.

He wouldn’t mind that theory being true; sure as hell beats the first one. But that only left him with his last theory that he hoped was true, but was definitely not.

Theory number three: her. His crazy and outlandish theory, that he hoped was true but knew it wasn’t, was her. A quiet obsession with the woman had snuck up on him a few years ago. David never actively looked for a partner, being a workaholic and too concerned about doing his job than having a wife and kids. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want that life, but it never seemed to come up at an opportune moment. Either wrong person, or wrong place, but she made his mind want to work for that kind of life. All it took though was a few times of talking to each other, late into the evening, when they should have been home but instead were working on the same case. Loki didn’t like anyone else stepping in on his work, detective or officer. But, it just so happened that the captain had assigned them to work together on the case because of the sheer magnitude of it.

At first, Loki was vehemently opposed to the assignment, but so was she. They both thought they worked best alone, without a partner. As the case went on, they butted heads multiple times and even got in a screaming match with each other. But the next morning, she was waiting by his car with a cup of coffee before they were suppose to go out to do some recon. From that point forward, there was a sort of energy around the pair as they worked. There was more discussion about life outside of work, and their personal preferences. Many nights were spent at the Chinese restaurant pouring over theories about the case and suspects. It was one of those nights at the Chinese restaurant that Loki realized that something was changing between them.

~

“So what about this, what’s his name, Norman O’Shea? How do we feel about this guy? I mean he certainly has the rap sheet to lend itself to doing something like this.” Her question made David pause mid bite to think. He looked up to catch her eyes before looking back down to his food. Chewing over his food and thoughts, the man swallowed before responding.

“What’s he got on him? I thought he was the wrong physical type from eye witnesses? They said a grey haired man, no glasses, and a grey beard was near the kids when they noticed them gone. Not a glasses wearing, clean shaven, black haired creep.” Flipping through the folders, she stared at Loki with a ridiculous expression.

“Do you know how easy it is to dye your hair and have no traces of it anywhere? Especially if you have prep time and a space away from your main residence to do so? Besides we’ve got four different counts of child charges, including kidnapping a girl one time.” Both detectives took a break to eat as they thought about the information.

“He’s at least worth going and talking to.” Loki offered as they finished their dinners. She looked down at her almost finished plate of rice, and quietly chuckled to herself. The small chuckle made Loki’s lips quirk up into a somewhat smile while he let out an even smaller chuckle.

“What?” He asked quietly. Watching as she shook her head gently, her chuckle died and her smile turned sad.

“Nothing. Just…” she trailed off and let her eyes wander over the detective’s tattoos on his hands.

“Just, cases like this, you know? Just, they remind me of my sister. Makes me think of how proud she’d be that I’m trying to help other kids like us.” Her eyes glazed over, and David leaned closer to the woman across the table from him.

“Kids like you?” He repeated back to her. He watched as she was knocked out of whatever memory that she was trapped in. Her throat cleared, and she pushed her hair back.

“Yeah, kids like us.” She rolled up her sleeve to reveal the beautiful artwork adorning her arm. A spiraling network of flowers of all different kinds, attached to one branch spread all over her arm. It disappeared into the bicep and rest of her sleeve in one direction, and ending in a small bloom on her pinky finger in the other.

“My older sister and I were ten and five when we were orphaned. Drunk driver killed both of our parents. Well, we became wards of the state and were sent to a girls home nearby,” she noticed how Loki sat up straighter at the mention of a children’s home.

“For a few years everything was fine. But then funding got cut when we were about fourteen and nine, and the home started failing. They couldn’t keep good employees and everything was dirty. My sister and I, we-” she abruptly stopped, staring straight at the blossom on her pinky.

“When we were fifteen and ten, we were playing in the back of the home one day. We saw a few of the former employees pull up around the back where we were and they just had us. We trusted them. No one looked for us for three months. No one cared to. And the things we endured in the time between our capture to our rescue, it ended up killing my sister. She got an infection in one of the wounds on her leg. Two days later they finally found us, but it was too late for her. She died in my arms. When they got us, it had been almost a year to the day that we went missing.” Her hands started scratching at her own legs. Not scratching, picking. She was trying to pick at her skin through her jeans.

“Well that’s my sob story on why I became a detective. Sorry if I talk too much.” Her eyes adverted to the ground beside their table out of embarrassment. Loki didn’t know what to say after that. Having been through his own hardships, it was hard finding someone who understood why some people become the law. The law didn’t help either of them until it was too late; they kept themselves alive through hell. After having a moment of silence, Loki finally got his words back.

“I was at Huntington. The boys home.” She looked back up to now see David was staring at her, waiting for some sort of response.

“Huntington, huh? We were right next door at Doealair.” The two detectives started to chuckle, finding common ground in their childhoods.

“Here’s to messed up youth.” He raised his coffee cup in the air.

“To messed up youth.” She mirrored him and clinked their cups together.

~

From that night on, the two detectives became close. It was the closest thing that either one of them had to a friend in years. They would often get dinner together when time would allow, and they were the only one that the other would accept help from on cases. But it wasn’t enough that David thought he had a chance with her.

Sure, he looked out for the woman. He made sure that if she needed to take a break, he would usher her into a cell to sleep while he took on the paperwork. On a couple of occasions, he had driven her home because she was too tired to drive safely. David would ask for her opinions on cases when he was stuck, an implied ask for help was always there. He never voiced it aloud, but he cared for her more than he probably should. And it seemed that maybe she did too. She brought him food on long nights, and asked for his advice on cases. Generally, she held the same attitude towards the captain that he did: respect with a heaping cup of stay out of my investigation. She joined him in doing paperwork next to each other just so they would have a little bit of company. But it was still not enough to convince David that she was the culprit of the mysterious coffee.

Loki tossed and turned at night, always on edge. He never could get a full nights rest, which lent itself to the dark circles constantly around his eyes and his dependance on caffeine in the form of coffee. When he finally was able to pull himself out of bed, the drive to work took less time than normal. Which meant he was getting to work before he arrived, a full thirty minutes before he normally clocked in. Which meant, a full twenty minutes before she was suppose to be in. But when he got in, immediately, David was pulled into the captain’s office. For the entirety of his spare thirty minutes, he sat in there and listened to the man go on and on about the current case the detective was on. Nothing of importance was being said, just that he needed to wrap it up fast.

When Loki was finally released, it was time to get to work, which meant coffee. However, when he reached his desk, there was no coffee to be found. The man looked over at her desk, which had her stuff thrown haphazardly across, like she was in a rush. In any case, he made his way into the kitchen for his first of many cups of coffee, only to find a strange sight. There she was, making coffee. But another mug was next to her normal one; Loki’s normal mug was right next to hers. He watched from the threshold as she continued to make his coffee the same way he’d always drank it, no milk and two sugars. When she had nothing in her hands that could burn her, David spoke up.

“Is that my coffee?” He asked, startling the woman in front of him. She turned around fast and grasped her chest in fright. Several deep breaths were taken in, and she slowly recovered.

“Jesus David. Warn a girl next time.” Turning back to the coffees, she kept her eyes away from him. He stepped closer to her and leaned against the counter.

“Is that my coffee?” His question was repeated once more. Her gaze fell everywhere except his own eyes. She finished stirring the sugar into his coffee and dropped the stir stick in the garbage.

“Yes.” She quietly admitted as she slid the cup over to the man carefully. Loki accepted it and took a sip. Just how he liked his coffee. They stood there in silence, taking small sips from their coffee and not speaking about the obvious tension now in the room.

“Have you even leaving me coffees this whole time?” There it was. The question that demanded an answer. There was no way for her to lie; he caught her in the act of making his coffee. No one else in this department would know that the man liked a little sugar in his coffee. Everyone probably assumed he took it straight up. And now, she had to answer for her actions. Suddenly, her face felt hot. She was starting to think that this is what people felt like getting interrogated.

“Yes.” Another simple response.

“Why?” The question sounded simple, but they both knew that the answer was going to be anything but.

“Because, you deserve nice things. Even if it is just a cup of coffee now and then.” Her eyes still were looking away, having found her shoes to be the most interesting thing in the world at that moment. But they quickly became Loki’s shoes that she focused on as they stepped closer.

“Well, I’d like to return the favor. Maybe you’ll let me treat you to dinner tonight?” She shot up like a rocket at his words. Having expected him to deny her affections, this was certainly a turn for the better. She never thought she’d live to see the day that David Loki, tattooed, reclusive, badass detective, would look shy. But he did. He looked nervous to hear her response.

“Are you asking me out, Loki?” Her teasing words made the man crack a somewhat smile. They both knew what she wanted; a clear and direct proposal for a date.

“Maybe I am. Would you go out with me tonight?” He asked, this time a surge of confidence ran through him.

“A cup of coffee for a date? Seems like a fair trade. I’d like to go out with you tonight, David.” A full smile broke out across both of their faces, and they allowed themselves to bask in the moment before they inevitably had to get back to work. Going back to work was more difficult than before. Both detectives had to school their expressions as to not raise suspicions. And they had to be careful on how many times they glanced over at one another. But neither one could shake the butterflies from their stomach the entire day. Yeah, a cup of coffee a day might just bring someone tall, dark and handsome your way.

Going back to work was more difficult than before. Both detectives had to school their expressions as to not raise suspicions. And they had to be careful on how many times they glanced over at one another. But neither one could shake the butterflies from their stomach the entire day. Yeah, a cup of coffee a day might just bring someone tall, dark and handsome your way.

#rebelliousstories #writing #prisoners 2013 #prisoners fanfiction #prisoners imagine #prisoners #david loki imagine #david loki #david loki x reader #detective loki x reader #detective loki imagine #detective loki #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal

[outstandingblue]

Promises to Keep

Fifteen - Oel Ngati Kameie

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

| Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen |

Who would do this to themselves? Miles Quaritch would - he wanted her.

cross-posted on ao3 here content warning: angst, hospitals, fluff, mild choking, mild sexual content, making out word count: 8.8k

Miles didn’t visit Jiniraa - not once. Now, that’s not to say Miles didn’t try to visit her - he certainly did. He would stand on the threshold of the door, unable to force his body through. He could barely even toe the line, sometimes only watching through the small window as the thin blinds distorted his line of sight. 

Spider, on the other hand, refused to leave Jiniraa’s side - he would sit and wait, unmoving for hours at a time. Renia had taken a liking to the teen, admiring his devotion to the only maternal figure he’d ever known. She would bring him his meals when she came asses Jiniraa’s condition, always making sure to include a treat or two. 

Spider was angry. Angry at a lot of things - at himself, at Quaritch, at the RDA, at Jake, at Jiniraa. All of them, he was angry. Quaritch and the RDA were easy to justify - they were the reason he was in this place, this cold, metal, lifeless prison of a city. His anger towards Jake was a little harder to rationalize. Spider admired the man unlike anyone else - there was nothing he wanted more than Jake’s approval and acceptance, but when it came down to it, Jake abandoned him. The Sully’s seemingly made no effort to save them from their imprisonment. Being upset with Jiniraa felt wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. He was mad at her for abandoning him - her physical body was here, sure, but she wasn’t there to make him feel better. He just felt utterly alone.

Nothing changed for four days. She was left suspended in unconsciousness as her body fought to repair itself as quickly as possible; her levels were normal and her wound was healing nicely, so it was just a waiting game to see when she would finally wake. Over those four days, Spider slept a cumulative eight hours, not wanting to risk being asleep in case something happened. He was guilty - guilty for falling asleep while she was in surgery. It’s not like he would have realistically been able to do anything, but it continued to weigh on his conscience. What if she needed him? What if she got better? Or what if she got worse? 

Out of pure coincidence, Miles somehow managed to time his almost-visits when Spider was asleep. The medical wing was relatively cleared out by the time he got there, only a skeleton crew of nurses and physicians working the night shift. They were too focused on paperwork and their umpteenth cup of coffee to ever focus on the Colonel.

The fluorescent lights were the worst part of it. Miles hated those lights as a human, but those lights were the bane of his existence as a Recom. His new body was more tuned into his environment, so he was aware of every little thing, whether he liked it or not. Antiseptic lingered in the air - the smell so strong he had to cover his nose from gagging as the wall of chemicals hit him at full force. 

EKGs and pulse-ox machines beeped, increasing and decreasing in volume as Miles passed the rooms of other patients. Jiniraa’s room was at the end of the corridor since it was the only room large enough to accommodate her Na’vi body. The walk down the hallway felt like forever, as if his feet continued to move but made no progress to close the gap. She seemed so far away. 

On the third night, Miles approached the room with a newfound confidence. He was determined to step through that threshold today. She deserved that - she deserved his comfort in her time of need. 

There was no way Spider’s position was comfortable. His neck was bent at a ninety-degree angle to the left, resting atop his palm as his legs were folded beneath his body. His free hand was outstretched, resting in Jiniraa’s limp and seemingly lifeless hand. A familiar green bag rested in his lap, the one Miles secretly gave her so long ago. It looked huge in contrast to his human body since it was basically the size of a backpack to him. Spider’s extra mask and filtration system sat on the table, making the bag collapse without anything holding it up. On the side, there was a small personalization Jiniraa made a week or so before the incident: decorative blue, purple, and green leaves dangled off the side, almost like a Na’vi key chain. 

The memory was fresh in Miles’ head as everything came flooding back at once. 

She was sitting under a large leaf, using it to block an abnormally intense beam of light. Miles leaned over her shoulder, trying to get a good look. “What’re you doin’?”

“Decorating,” she replied back, not looking up from the leaves as she tried different groupings to see what looked the best against the bag. 

“It’s green for a reason,” Miles snickered back, “‘posed to help you blend in, not stand out.”

Jiniraa scoffed, motioning to the world around her, “do you not see all the color around you? This is blending in. Plus your gear is ugly.”

Miles’ ears pinned playfully to his head, tail swishing against the ground in mild annoyance. She had grown confident enough for their playful banter, a volley of low-level insults and quips back and forth became a daily occurrence. 

Miles took a seat next to her, watching as she rubbed long blades of grass in some sort of natural wax to preserve it. Nimble and skilled fingers worked to wrap the preserved strands around the base of the leaves, finally pleased with the arrangement she made. Their different shapes and sizes made them hang at various levels, increasing the depth of the project. Jiniraa secured it to a metal loop on the side of the bag before holding it in front of her to admire the work before looking to Miles, clearly asking for his thoughts. 

He shrugged, “not my style.”

Jiniraa rolled her eyes as she clipped the bag around her waist. It was as if Miles had never noticed the intricate jewelry and ornamentation decorating various parts of her body until that day. Around her ankle, a thin string was wrapped around three or four times, decorated with cool toned beads. A thick braided band was wrapped around her bicep, only braided leather, no intricate beadwork. 

Her neck had the most alluring piece. Miles had found himself staring at her neck a few times before, but somehow never managed to notice the necklace before. A dark leather hand was tight around the base of her throat, dark blue, brown, and bone beads were woven into the band. A stone rested softly on top of her collarbone, wrapped in thinner strands of leather and attached at the base of the necklace. It was small, probably less than the width of Miles’ thumb, but it was entrancing. As she shifted in the light, the semi-translucent stone transitioned from a deep purple to a blush pink. How had he never noticed it before?

“You make all these?”

Jiniraa furrowed her brow for a moment before Miles gestured to her various bands and necklace. Out of habit, her finger ghosted over the stone, “I made this and the anklet.”

Miles nodded, entranced by the way her fingers twisted the stone, “pretty.”

“I can show you where I got it some day,” she smiled back, actually meaning it. She hadn’t been there in years and it would be nice to return. 

“What about this little number?” He reached out, allowing his fingers to brush against the arm band. 

Jiniraa’s entire body language changed in an instant. She retreated inward as her eyes dropped to the ground, losing a little bit of their light. Protecting herself. Once Miles’ fingers left the band, hers replaced it. “It was Tsu’teys.”

Miles hummed, watching her face change out of the corner of his eye as he sat forward, “his name comes up a lot.”

“Tsu’tey raised me along with Neytiri’s sister before they were both killed by the Sky People. Sylwanin was killed first. Then Tsu’tey when they attacked the Tree of Souls fifteen years ago.”

“You don’t have to tell me more,” Miles responded, feeling like he already opened Pandora’s box. Jiniraa reached towards Miles, placing her hand on top of his hand, letting her wingers wrap around his knuckles while he remained still. 

“I’ll tell you more about them,” Jiniraa paused, looking towards the treeline, “but that’s for another day.”

Miles recognized both of those names. He’d heard the first, Sylwanin, when Dr. Augustine threw a fit after her school was attacked and half a dozen Na’vi children were lost. Quaritch didn’t feel bad for the woman, but Miles did. Pandora was infectious, changing him down to his very core. The second name had less importance in his past life, but it always seemed to come up in Jiniraa’s stories of her childhood. He never prodded like this before, but his curiosity was beginning to take over as he wanted to know more - about Pandora, about Spider, and about Jiniraa. He wanted it all. He wanted her. 

It was a punch to the gut. Miles didn’t realize he wanted her until she was unconscious in a hospital bed. The intricate network of wires and tubes made Miles sick to his stomach, they looked so unnatural around her. She should be wrapped up in his bed, surrounded by his warmth and scent. Being stuck in this lifeless room with these goddamn fluorescent lights and the stink of chemicals was not the place for her. 

Miles had all the confidence in the world walking towards her room, but it evaporated in an instance when he arrived. He stood there for the third night in a row and froze when her body came into view. How long was he frozen? A few seconds? A minute? An hour? He really didn’t know. 

Spider shifted in his sleep, hand instinctively tightening around Jiniraa’s fingers, hoping for a response yet there was nothing. Her fingers didn’t even twitch, something Miles noticed she did during the two nights they shared together. For those two nights, he was blessed with the warmth of her body against his own. 

The thought that she was safe in his grasp eased his mind. Her scent and heat infiltrated his senses. She smelled like the juice of a sweet yovo - his favorite of the Pandoran fruits - combined with fresh rain. It was like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of. After experiencing her warmth, he couldn’t sleep without it. He would toss and turn all night wrong, desperately wanting her there with him. Hence finding himself in the medical wing in the middle of the night. 

After the second night, Miles used his override code to get into her apartment in a moment of sheer weakness. Inside was relatively bare but there was a tiny line of stones across Jiniraa’s desk. Spider collected all of them, gifting them periodically throughout their travels.

Even though there was little physical proof she ever lived there, Miles was overwhelmed with Jiniraa’s familiar scent as the door slid closed behind him. In the dark, his eyes quickly spotted a neatly folded sweatshirt on her desk, right next to her line of trinkets. Without second thought, he grabbed it and shoved his face into the fabric. Her scent was even stronger as it had woven itself into the very fibers after just one night. 

Miles moaned as her scent became overpowering - it wasn’t a sexual moan, but more painful in nature. It had only been a few days without seeing her eyes as they danced between the Recoms when an argument broke out or heard her laugh when Spider told a joke, but the time made all the difference. He was empty without her by his side. He knew she wouldn’t be safe at his side, but he couldn’t help it. Miles wanted her more than anything. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t submit to that selfish desire, not when it would only cause her more pain in the future. 

Spider’s eyes remained closed as he cracked his neck. Miles’ head snapped towards the teenager, not realizing he was beginning to wake up. Miles had two options. Option one - move out of the doorway and pretend he was never there, but that would mean not being able to see Jiniraa any longer. Option two - hold his ground and let the kid see he was there. That also was not the best option; Spider was unbelievably distraught when he woke up after Jiniraa’s surgery, screaming profanities until Miles left the room. 

Option one was more favorable, but he didn’t have time to decide as Spider already locked his fiery eyes on the Recom. He seethed with rage as his nostrils flared, seeming he was angrier than the day he first met Miles.

“Hey kid.”

Spider said nothing, ripping his gaze away and looking towards Jiniraa. She looked the same as before. He squeezed her hand again but got nothing in response. Miles hesitated in the doorway before finally stepping through. He had finally crossed the physical and mental threshold, bringing him closer to the woman in the hospital bed.

Spider did a once over of the ghost of his father, noticing his disheveled appearance. He wasn’t in his usual fatigues, boots, and a tank. Instead, he was in dark loose sweatpants cinched tightly around his waist. His feet were bare - ever since Jiniraa convinced everyone to take off their boots in the forest, no one had any desire to put them back on ever again. His top was a sweatshirt, the collar was stretched and loose around his neck from how many times he pulled it to take a deep inhale of Jiniraa’s scent, making the same motion as the regulator currently around his neck. Spider still had no clue that Jiniraa spent the night in Miles’ room. No clue that it was Jiniraa’s scent etched into the sweatshirt. No clue how much Miles cared about her. He knew none of it. 

“What do you want?” Spider growled out.

Miles raised his hands in mock surrender, “just checkin’ on her.”

Under his breath, Spider mumbled, “haven’t done that before.”

Miles grit his teeth. He was trying to be civil, but the kid was making it pretty damn hard. He tried his best to suppress the desire to scold the kid, acknowledging the stress he was under, but that didn’t stop Miles’ patience from wearing thin. “Yes I have. You’ve been too busy snoozin’ to notice.”

Miles wouldn’t admit he was too scared to walk through the door. Spider didn’t need to know that. 

“Why are you here?” Spider demanded.

Miles shifted his weight from one foot to another, “I believe I just told you.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Spider wouldn’t break their intense eye contact. Miles knew what he was trying to ask. Why do you care?

“Look, kid,” Miles sighed, “it’s complicated.”

“What is?”

“Everything,” Miles admitted.

Miles rubbed at his face, pulling the tired skin taut. That’s what would have happened if Spider saw him, but he hadn't. A quick slide to the right and Miles pressed himself flush against the cool metal wall. A coward’s escape. Miles exited as quickly as he came, pressing his hands against his ears when Spider began begging for Jiniraa to wake up. He couldn’t listen to the pain in the kid’s voice knowing she wasn’t going to respond. 

He wanted her, but it didn’t matter what Miles wanted. He couldn’t be Miles anymore because it was his fault she was in this position. From here on out, he needed to be Quaritch - and Quaritch had a mission to complete. 

●●● 

By the fifth day, Renia was beginning to seriously worry. Based on her countless scans and tests, Jiniraa had no reason to still be in her unconscious state. She should be up and moving, not plastered to the bed like a dead body. Her chest continued to rise and fall while her eyes moved under closed lids, but that was it.

Renia tossed a small muffin to Spider. Bridgehead muffins were always dry, but a muffin was a muffin and Renia quickly learned Spider like the chocolate ones. Spider gave a quick thanks before digging into the pastry. Renia wasn’t in her avatar form today, so it was a little jarring when a human walked in rather than a huge blue body. She looked relatively the same, but her rich skin was a sharp contrast to the gray scrubs and white coat. Spider noticed small gold jewelry that decorated the shells of her ears, dangled around her neck, and pierced through her nose. Her long thin braids were pulled back over her shoulder in a ponytail, the same hairstyle her avatar always had. Except, of course, she didn’t have a braid that reached her tail - she also didn’t have the tail, obviously. 

“How’d you sleep last night, Spider?” Renia asked, moving around quietly as Spider finished his morning treat. She checked the IV stuck into Jiniraa’s hand, hung a new bag of fluids, and read the monitor. 

“Not great,” Spider shrugged, mouth full of his muffin, “did you stop by last night?”

Renia shook her head, taking note of Jiniraa’s steady heart rate. “No, why? I don’t think Bly did either.”

Spider pursed his lips. He was sure he saw someone last night as their figure retreated into the darkness. He didn’t press the issue further, he must’ve just had a sleep-driven haze. “So anything new?”

“No, I’m sorry, Spider. I wish I had other news for you.” Renia shared in sorrow. Spider nodded, squeezing Jiniraa’s hand once more. A moment passed, then two, then countless others as he waited, but she never squeezed back.

The day came and went the same as always - Renia came in the morning and gave Spider a little food before checking on Jiniraa, then Bly and Renia came together around lunch with some more food and ran more tests, Renia would come after dinner to deliver more food and check Jiniraa’s vitals while Mansk awkwardly hovered near the door.

The cat was out of the bag with Mansk and Renia, so they didn’t have to sneak around as much anymore. Apparently everyone had known for sometime, proven by Ja’s outburst in the forest. Still, Mansk couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable standing there as Spider would occasionally glance over. He left his sunglasses on a table in Renia’s office, assuming it was just going to be a quick check in, so he had nothing to hide under. 

“Anything new?” Spider asked the same question every time Jiniraa came, desperately hoping for a different answer. Renia was forced to give him the same disappointing answer, time and time again. Both of their voices were beginning to lose their hopefulness as despair settled deep in their stomachs. What if she didn’t wake up? Then what?

Like usual, Spider squeezed Jiniraa’s hand and waited. Renia slung her stethoscope over her shoulder, sliding Jiniraa’s hospital gown back into place before getting up to move. 

Then it happened - Spider almost screamed as Jiniraa’s finger twitched ever so slightly against him. Apparently he did scream as the noise made Renia’s data pad tumble to the ground and Mansk reached for the gun strapped to his thigh. 

“What the hell, Spider?” Renia scolded, reaching down to grab the data pad from the ground, inspecting it for damage. 

“She moved! She moved! Her hand - it twitched against me! Look!” Spider yelled, standing up in his chair.

Renia glanced over to Mansk before hurrying over, a sad look in her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time she had seen someone imagine their loved one doing something in their comatose state. Spider could have been seeing things, driven to imagine a better scenario than the horrible situation he was faced with. Renia didn’t know what she would do if Spider had been wrong, but he wasn’t. She was in her avatar body in the evening, so she towered over Spider as she watched Jiniraa’s fingers fidget against the small human.

“Oh my god,” Renia pointed back to Mansk, “um, page Bly.”

Mansk reached into Renia’s white coat as it laid across one of the chairs, fumbling with the fabric as he tried to find the pager. Once the device was in his hands, he didn’t know what to do. He’d never used a pager before - hell, he hated that goddamn thing. He pushed the device into Renia’s grip. He knew how to shoot and kill, not how to use a pager. 

“Are you kidding?” She quickly pressed on a few buttons, sending a message directly to Bly. She should be here in a few minutes. When everyone was leaving dinner, Bly made a comment about visiting the gym since she hadn’t been there in a while in her avatar body. 

“Jiniraa? Jiniraa? It’s me, Dr. Renia Cox. You’re okay. You had an emergency surgery and you’ve been out for a couple of days.”

Jiniraa’s eyes began to open. It took a few seconds before she realized she didn’t recognize her location at all, beginning to look a little more frantic. Jiniraa laid flat on the bed, unmoving as her eyes adjusted to the blinding fluorescents. Renia’s voice was far away and indistinguishable. She kept talking, but Jiniraa only caught bits and pieces. Her brain was too frazzled to even attempt to put those pieces together. 

An even brighter light made Jiniraa flinch backwards. She tried to cover her sensitive eyes, but the wires and tubes made it almost impossible. She hastily pulled at everything as she finally came to her senses. She felt trapped and tied up. 

“‘Niraa, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Spider tried to reassure Jiniraa, but Renia pushed him behind her as Jiniraa’s limbs began to flail around. With her strength, she could easily throw Spider across the room with ease. Mansk mirrored his partner, holding Jiniraa’s other arm down against the bed until she calmed down enough. Jiniraa only settled when the exhaustion took over. 

“Jiniraa,” Renia insisted, “I need you to breathe. You’re okay, you’re safe. It’s me, Mansk, and Spider.”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Bly came running in. Her skin gleamed with sweat, both from the workout and the spring from the medical wing. Lyle and Ja trailed behind, both in their workout outfits as well, they’d been in the gym when Bly got her page. 

Renia pointed to Lyle, “Wainfleet, get the Colonel.” Lyle nodded and turned to run out of the medical wing. It would be faster than trying to get ahold of him via their tablets. Ja assumed Mank’s place in the mix, the two doctors and one field medic working in tandem to check on Jiniraa and keep her calm. 

Being the most familiar of the faces, Jiniraa locked eyes with Ja, “where’s Spider?” Her voice was weak, scratchy and rough from not being used in so long. 

The human quickly weaved through the legs of the two woman closest and climbed up on Jiniraa’s bed, “I’m so happy to see you.”

Jiniraa’s eyes filled with tears, mirroring Spider’s own expression, “Oel ngati kameie, sweet boy.”

“Oel ngati kameie, ‘Niraa.”

Jiniraa looked around, “where’s Miles?”

Renia couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face, “Wainfleet is already on his way to get the Colonel, he’ll be here soon, don’t worry.” Jiniraa nodded, pulling Spider closer to her.

Ja silently slipped out of the room as it suddenly felt overcrowded. Mansk shifted his weight, nodding to his comrade, “she alright now?”

Ja crossed his arms, turning to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mansk so he could peer into the room as well. “Yeah, just a little shaken I think.”

A few minutes later, a single set of boots could be heard coming down the corridor. They were quiet and unhurried as Lyle returned with his tail between his legs, shooting a look to Mansk and Ja, almost a plea as he called forward, “um, doc?”

In unison, Bly and Renia responded, “yes?”

“Can I talk to you out here?” Lyle asked, continuing to look at Mansk and Ja for some sort of moral support. He knew the news he was about to deliver wouldn’t go down well. 

Renia handed off the monitor before joining the growing group in the corridor, “what is it, Wainfleet?”

“Well…” he trailed off. Mansk’s lip twitched upward as his chest swelled in pride. He’d only ever seen Lyle act like this in front of Renia, finding her absolutely terrifying for some reason. She wasn’t someone Lyle was able to just push around or use his muscles to impress. 

“Spit it out.” She deadpanned, “I don’t have time for this.” 

“Colonel didn’t want to come,” Lyle sputtered out quickly.

“What do you mean he didn’t want to come?” Renia growled.

Lyle paused, mouth hanging open as he looked to his comrades for help. Both averted their eyes - this was Lyle’s problem, not theirs - he would have to deal with Renia’s wrath himself.

“Wainfleet?”

“That’s what he said!” He screeched out, exasperated that she didn’t seem to get the message. The commotion caught the attention of Bly, Spider, and Jiniraa as their attention snapped to the hallway before sharing confused looks.

“That fucking coward,” Renia spat, “where is he?”

Mansk could see the fire in her eyes, so he decided to try and bring her down a level, “Ren, I don't’ think-”

She ignored him, not even acknowledging that he stepped forward, “Wainfleet. Now.”

Mansk quickly shut his mouth. Her demanding tone wasn’t directed towards him, but it made his tail want to hide between his legs as well. Renia reached up, grabbing Lyle by the ear before forcing him down to her height. Her nail pressed into the soft shell, almost hard enough to draw blood. 

“Shooting range. Outdoors.” Lyle admitted in defeat, nursing his ear once Renia released. He knew she wouldn’t ease up until he gave her what she wanted. Like a little firecracker. 

Renia grumbled, already moving down the corridor. Mansk jogged to catch up and lightly grabbed her elbow, trying to slow her down. “Ren, I don’t think this is the best idea.”

“No, Mansk, it is his fault she’s in that goddamn bed in the first place. And now he gets to be a coward and not come? Why? Because he doesn’t want to? Well tough shit. I’ll drag him back here kicking and screaming if I need to.” Renia roughly pulled her elbow out of Mansk’s hold, resuming her march right away. She might as well have been wearing bricks on her feet with how much noise she made. Mansk shot a glare at Lyle as he followed the doctor out - maybe if he hadn’t been a bitch and stood up to the Colonel when Renia asked, this wouldn’t be happening. 

Renia didn’t bother to wait for Mansk as she walked outside, quickly moving towards the outdoor shooting range. The sun was beginning to set and the outdoor field lights had been turned on, dampening the natural Pandoran beauty. 

“Quaritch!”

Miles stood, rifle tucked into his shoulder as he rapidly shot down the alley, hitting the center repeatedly. When the doctor called out, Miles either didn’t hear her anger over his rapid fire or he didn’t care to halt his actions. She didn’t slow her approach as Mansk trailed closely behind, knowing it would be easier to stop the Colonel than Renia. He was being proactive, trying to protect both her and their relationship. If he dared to stop her pursuit, he would never hear the end of it. 

“Colonel Quaritch!” Renia fumed.

Miles set his rifle in a gun stand before slipping his revolver from the holster on his thigh - six shots, six bulls eyes. His shoulders were tense, muscles pulled tightly around his neck. His tail flicked around in utter annoyance while his ears pinned against his head - they spent more time pinned than they did relaxed. “What, woman?”

“It’s doctor.”

“What do you want?” He was already to grab another magazine. Based on the empties spread across the table, Quaritch had been out here for a while. He was never one to haphazardly waste precious ammunition like this, yet he was spending hours at the range, even in the dead of night. After each failed attempt to visit Jiniraa, he would spend the next two hours at the outdoor range. 

“She’s awake.” Renia’s tone had yet to soften, bothered by how rudely the Colonel had been ignoring her. Miles’ actions were stunned for a second before resuming as if nothing happened. If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed it.

“And?”

“And?” She barked. “The fuck do you mean and?”

“What do you want me to do about it? Jump around and celebrate?” Miles scoffed, turning around to look at the pair that stared back at him. He lent back against the side of the table, crossing his arms and attempted to seem as uninterested as possible. 

“Well, maybe you should, considering it's your fault she was unconscious in the first place.”

Miles bared his teeth, completely seething at this point, “yes, thank you for reminding me. Something you’ve done every day over the last fucking week.”

Renia mirrored the Colonel’s body language, crossing her arms over her chest, “yeah, so you could at least act like you feel bad.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with Miles. He was trying so hard to put up this facade. If only she knew how much he was hurting deep down. If she could hear his thoughts for even ten seconds, she would be utterly overwhelmed by how much Jiniraa had infiltrated his every thought, every action, every breath. He couldn’t even fucking breathe without thinking about the mask strapped to her face, “don’t you dare tell me how I feel.”

“Then stop being a fucking coward, Colonel.” Renia held her ground, even as Miles’ hand twitched at his sides. Rage was coursing through his veins, something Mansk easily picked up on.

“Alright, why don’t we take a step back?” Mansk suggested, placing himself between the pair. He couldn’t tell who wanted to kill who more. Honestly, it was probably Renia.

Renia pointed over Mansk’s shoulder, continuing their spat, “if you aren’t going to see her then at least do it for the kid. You’ve neglected your son while his mother is out of commission.”

“He’s not my son.” Miles didn’t comment on the insinuation that Jiniraa was Spider’s mother. Everyone knew she assumed the maternal role from a young age, basically raising the human as she raised herself. They had to find their way together in the world, but they had yet to find their place. 

Miles huffed three more times before turning back to the table, leaning both hands against it. He could reload the revolver’s chamber and just go back to shooting until the doc got the message, but she was determined. She would stand there until the sun came up if it meant getting her way. “How is she?”

Renia relaxed, seeing the Colonel wasn’t going to stonewall her anymore. She pushed Mansk’s extended arm away, shooting him a look that said I got this. “She wants to see you. Asked for you.”

She wants to see him. She asked for him. “How is she?”

Renia’s gaze softened at the look on Quaritch’s face. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes when he asked the question, preferring to focus on the bullet he rolled between his fingers. 

Renia rested a tentative hand against Miles’ shoulder. He tensed instantly, not used to any sort of comfort, let alone physical. It was okay, but what he really wanted was Jiniraa’s comforting touch. “She’s okay. Really, Quaritch, she’s okay.”

“Is she upset?” 

Renia seemed to understand what the Colonel was really asking - is she upset with me? She shook her head, “I don’t think she would have asked for you if she was upset.”

Mansk offered his own opinion on the matter, “she seemed pretty upset to me.” Renia shot a glare at her partner, eyes a little harsh to ask why he would say that. “You know - I mean, like just from waking up.” 

Mansk tried to fix his misstep, but the damage was already done. Miles' ears perked up in alert. He wanted Mansk to elaborate, but the couple seemed to have a silent debate through their facial expressions. 

Renia sighed, removing her hand from the Colonel’s shoulder, “I think you being there would help, sir.”

Miles scoffed at the irony of it all, “you have spent the past week bitchin’ at me about how this is all my fault.”

“Yes, and?”

“And now you want me there.” He laughed at his own misery.

“She wants you there. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull, Quaritch?”

Miles’ lip curled back in hostility, but Renia’s words had merit. Jiniraa asked for him to come. He nodded before grabbing his revolver, reloading and clicking on the safety before sliding it back into the holster before slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He didn’t say anything to the doctor and Recom as he pushed past them to head back inside.

Once the Colonel was out of earshot, Mansk turned to Renia, “You make me nervous sometimes, you know? Next time tell me before you start threatening my superior like that.”

Renia winked before balancing on her toes to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth - her favorite thing to her. “I gotta keep you on your toes, love.”

There was something different about approaching the medical wing knowing she was awake. Adrenaline and nervousness coursed through Miles’ veins, making him feel like he was on fire. Hands continuously clenched and released as the distance to Jiniraa got smaller, but he didn’t slow once. He knew that if he slowed even the slightest, he would stop - he had to push if he was going to see her.

Everything in his head screamed to turn around. Just a few quick turns and he would be back in his apartment. He could hide out there, but it would only be a matter of time before she infiltrated his thoughts once more. He had no way to escape her, so he might as well throw himself into the fire. He was already in Hell anyway.

The two knuckleheads known as Lyle and Ja stood in the hallway, playing rock-paper-scissors to see who would be the unlucky one to go find Dr. Cox. As of right now, they were the best out of thirty-one. 

“Boss?” Lyle tilted his head while glancing at Ja, but he wasn’t focused on the hallway conversation anymore.

“What, Wainfleet?” Miles challenged, daring him to say something. 

“Nothin’, just didn’t expect to see you is all.”

“Well, now you do.” Miles retorted before changing the conversation, “how is she?”

“You could go in and see for yourself, she’s right there.” Ja was too preoccupied watching Bly to even realize the words left his mouth until it was too late. Miles stood with a cocked eyebrow and crossed arms, daring him to say something else. Ja suddenly was keenly aware of the rifle slung across the Colonel’s back.

Miles pushed past them, sending Ja a harsher than usual scowl before standing in the threshold of the door - a place he’d found himself stuck before. This time was different - he wasn’t sick to his stomach at the sight in front of him. No, not this time. Spider sat on the bed next to Jiniraa, slightly curling into her good side as words spilled from his mouth, trying to share every little thought he had over the past five days. They were too preoccupied to notice the Colonel’s presence, but Miles wouldn’t risk ruining their moment so he waited. His turn would come. 

Bly was the one who noticed the presence of someone new in the room, gasping in surprise, “hello Colonel.”

Miles waved her off, locking eyes with Jiniraa as her mouth pulled into the smallest smile, lip quivering ever so slightly. Bly took her leave, hanging her head low as she slipped past the Colonel to join Lyle and Ja in the corridor. 

Lyle snickered as Bly joined that, “what’re you scared?” Bly punched him in the bicep and he rubbed at the muscle as if her punch actually hurt. 

Ja barked out a single laugh, “says the one with his tail between his legs because of Cox.”

“Fuck you,” Lyle muttered under his breath. Ja just hummed as he rolled his eyes. 

Jiniraa squeaked out a little hello as Miles approached, but he didn’t return the greeting. He did a once over of her, still not liking the way the hospital gown laid against her and the tubing that rested on top. Her mask was hanging against her neck, only needed periodically rather than constantly. 

He continued to say nothing as he approached - the silence was slightly unsettling, making Jiniraa reposition herself on the bed. Her stitches pulled as she tried to sit up more, making her suck in a sharp breath. Miles was instantly at her side, no longer taking those painfully slow and calculated steps. “You okay?”

Jiniraa laughed, “not even going to say hello first?”

“No. Are you okay?” Miles repeated. Jiniraa brought her hand to cup the side of his face. He remained completely still - afraid if he moved she would retract her hand and it would never return. 

“I am okay, Miles, I promise.”

Spider scoffed beside them, crossing his arms across his chest while turning around to sulk towards the wall. Jiniraa rolled her eyes at the childish antics and Miles raised a brow. They both knew Spider didn’t like Miles - that much was clear - but Spider hadn’t filled Jiniraa in on how he went bat shit on him while she was in surgery.

If it were really a choice, who would have chosen this? Deep down, Miles wished he never met her in the forest and he wished she never made such an impact on his life. But at this point, he couldn’t undo the past or the present. Maybe he wasn’t brought back just to hunt down Sully. Maybe, just maybe, he was brought back so one day he would cross paths with Jiniraa. Even though he wants it, he knows he didn’t own Jiniraa - she didn’t belong to him. He belonged to her. He was hers, mind, body and soul, he was hers and that would never change. 

Jiniraa ultimately pulled her hand away. Miles knew it was too good to be true, but she didn’t pull away quickly. It was a slow retract as she wanted to keep her hand there as long as possible. Everything he thought earlier was suddenly under her soft touch. 

Jiniraa smiled at Miles as she stealthily reached around Spider’s chest before seizing down and pulling him towards her. Her hair found its way into his hair, rubbing erratically so his hair would stand straight up. Spider thrashed in her grasp, but the smile on his face showed this wasn’t the first time he found himself in this situation. Miles couldn’t help the small twitch in his lip as he watched their playful interaction. 

Spider eventually managed to slip out of Jiniraa’s iron grip. He seemed to be in a better mood, so Miles took the opportunity, “hey kid.”

Spider’s sour face returned instantly, “old man.”

Miles ears pinned, “what did I say-”

Jiniraa’s tut made Miles stop in his tracks, lowering the finger he had pointed at Spider. The kid smirked, knowing Jiniraa was there to defend him and Miles could do nothing. Spider slid off the bed, deciding he didn’t want to be in the room any longer. Based on the looks they were giving each other, he could already tell where this was going.

“How you feelin’?” Miles asked, standing right next to her bed. 

Jiniraa rolled her eyes, “I already said-”

“No - you said you were okay. I asked how you were feeling.”

Jiniraa stretched her arms out in front of her, “I want to get up and move. I’m stiff.”

Miles was apprehensive, but regardless if it’s what she wanted then he couldn’t do anything to stop her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I need to move. That doctor - I think her name was Campbell - she said I can.” 

Miles didn’t have time to protest or react as Jiniraa moved to slide her legs off the bed, making her chest to chest with the Colonel. His breath was fanning down on her face and she could feel the heat radiating from.

Given their close proximity, Miles only needed to whisper for Jiniraa to hear, “hi, sweetheart.”

She matched his volume, “hi, Miles.” Jiniraa’s gaze kept flickering between his lips and eyes as she continued, “no more baby?”

“Oh no, that’s still here.”

Jiniraa hummed, jutting her chin up slightly. If he just leaned forward the tiniest bit, they would make contact. They both wanted the touch, desperately. She was almost whimpering at how much she needed the touch, but he didn’t move. Not here. Not in this sterile room with these fluorescent lights and the overwhelming smell of chemicals. It wasn’t right and she deserved better. Better than him, but she didn’t want anyone else. She knew that - she’s known since he cradled her face with desperate eyes after she was attacked.

Miles was also keenly aware of the peanut gallery behind them, not even trying to hide their interest in the series of events transpiring in the tiny recovery room. So, he took a step back, but not before grabbing onto her hand to make contact, softly rubbing his thumb against her knuckles. Jiniraa was upset, clearly under the assumption that she did something wrong. Maybe he didn't want her after all and she was just some little naive village girl. 

Miles called Bly back in to unhook Jiniraa from her IV and everything else. Miles towered over her as she worked. He was large and imposing to everyone, but Bly was the shortest avatar he’d ever seen. 

Lyle leaned against the door frame, Ja standing slightly behind, “finally awake sleeping beauty?” Jiniraa just blinked, not understanding his reference. “Ah, I’m just joking. Glad to see you’re up, kid.”

“I’m older than you,” Jiniraa threw back with a lopsided smile. Lyle waved a hand at her, dismissing the snide remark.

“Alright,” Bly started as she took a step back. “You’re gonna have to take it slow. Your body is going to be weak from these past few days.”

Jiniraa nodded, moving to push her feet to the floor. She tried to put weight on them, but they gave out instantly. Miles instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against his chest as she regained her footing. Miles lowered his mouth to Jiniraa’s ear, lips brushing against the pointed tip, “I recall us being in this position the first time we met, baby. You really do go weak in the knees for me.”

Her face burned as she pushed against his chest, trying to prove she could stand on her own. Miles stepped back, but kept a hand outstretched as she took her first tentative steps. There was a throbbing pain around the stitches, but nothing too drastic. Jiniraa continued to berate Bly, asking if she could go outside as the woman checked on her stitches. After the fourth plea, Bly finally gave in. 

Jiniraa’s top was fine, but her pants had to be cut off for her surgery - it’s not like they weren’t already ruined from the attack. Renia had already set out a pair of her own pants for the Na’vi when she woke up. Miles pushed the peanut gallery out of the doorway, closing it behind them so Bly and Jiniraa would have some privacy. 

Lyle wiggled his brows at the Colonel, but didn’t say anything. Words were more punishable than suggestive gestures, something he learned years ago when it came to the Colonel. In sync, Ja and Spider rolled their eyes. 

A long minute later, the door reopened and Jiniraa walked out - long black pants, her tan top, and a familiar black field jacket. Miles quickly ushered her away from the group, not wanting to hear what everyone had to say. He did, however, wait long enough for Jiniraa to make sure the Recoms would take Spider to their housing zone. 

Miles normally moved at a brutal pace, made possible by his long legs and unrelenting determination, but tonight he was forced to slow down. Jiniraa’s movements were slow, as expected, but she wouldn’t let the ebbing pain halt her movements completely. It was nice to just move on her own two feet, plus it gave them time to savor the moment. 

Once they were outside, Jiniraa was suddenly glad she slipped on the jacket. The temperature had dropped significantly since she was outside. Miles seemed to catch the sight of her shivering, slipping a hand inside the open panel of her jacket to rest against her bare back, “the storm came through two days ago. Been a lot cooler since.”

Jiniraa nodded, looking up at the sky, “too bad I missed it. I like watching the rain.”

In their search for a secluded place, Miles ended back up at the shooting range. It was almost ironic - he came here to escape his thoughts about Jiniraa because it was the only place he didn’t have memories associated with her. He couldn’t help but laugh, he wouldn’t be able to return here without thinking of her again. 

“What’s so funny?” Jiniraa prodded, continuing to look up at the clear sky. 

“Nothin’,” he turned to her, checking their surroundings to make sure they truly were alone - there wasn’t a human or Recom in sight. Thank God. He brushed a piece of Jiniraa’s hair back, tucking it around her ear. It gave him the opportunity to cup the side of her face, feeling her press into his hand.

“Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I show you something?” Her voice was growing increasingly breathy as their faces neared.

“Of course.”

Jiniraa turned, pressing her back against his front. He sucked in a breath, not knowing where she was going with this until her finger pointed towards the sky. He followed the length of her arm, almost smiling at how the fabric bunched around her arm since the jacket was multiple sizes too large. “What am I lookin’ at?”

Jiniraa shook her hand, “right there - that’s Earth. That’s your home. Sky is always clearer after a big storm, easier to see.”

“I still have no clue where I’m lookin’, there’s hundreds of stars.”

Jiniraa grumbled in annoyance, reaching behind to pull Miles down to her height. She grabbed his chin, bringing it down to rest on her shoulder so she’d have an easier time pointing out the far away planet, “see that? Right there.”

“No, baby, I don’t see nothing.”

Jiniraa huffed, “you’re not even trying.” Jiniraa tried to think of more ways to get Miles to find his home in her sky, but she was interrupted by a soft nuzzling into her neck. She froze, moving her eyes to the side to confirm it was - in fact - Miles nuzzling into her. She didn’t even have to ask before he already offered an answer, not bashful in the slightest.

“I don’t care about his home right now. You smell good.” His voice was muffled as he pressed into the juncture of her neck, taking a deep whiff of her scent.

Jiniraa hummed, moving her head to the side so Miles could continue his ministrations. What she didn’t expect was the feeling of his lips at the juncture of her neck, just a light touch then the scraping of teeth against her skin. She said nothing - afraid he would pull away if she even breathed too deeply. Her eyelids fluttered closed, suddenly heavy in the euphoria her body was experiencing.

Miles’ large hands slipped around her, one played across her stomach while the other made its way up her neck, wrapping around her jaw to hold her still. It’s not like she wanted to move anyway, but the hold kept her locked in place. His touches grew bolder, leaving a trail of saliva as he transitioned from little pecks to fevered open-mouth kisses.

The weight of Miles’ hand against her stomach was suddenly heavy as it began to press and knead the flesh he came in contact with. Truth be told, Jiniraa couldn’t tell if she wanted his fingers to slide upwards and graze the underside of her breast like before or trail down as she felt the liquid heat pooling below.

Needing more of his touch, Jiniraa leaned further into him, pressing entirely against him. Miles’ teeth drug over her pulse as she pressed against his hardened member. She didn’t know what she had done, but she continued to press further into him. 

Jiniraa tried to turn in Miles’ grasp, but he tightened his hold on her jaw to continue assaulting her neck, “Miles…”

Oh that voice - there it was again. Breathy and dazed, this time without any reservations. Miles eased up slightly, enough that she could turn in his hold. Jiniraa felt his fingers tense around her jaw as she made eye contact with him. His thumb came up to brush along her lower lip, pulling down before letting it bounce back into place.

Their eyes connected and everything else faded away. No more thinking about the RDA. No more thinking about Spider. No more thinking about Sully. No more. Only the here and now, nothing else. 

“I think I like lookin’ at your stars more,” Jiniraa’s face was flushed as the heat from her abdomen ignited a fire within. Miles couldn’t help but notice those purple tipped ears, the ones he’d been so fascinated with before. He trailed his finger down her face, connecting her illuminating dots into one long drawn out line from her ear, down her neck, across her shoulder, and finally stopping on her chest. “I kinda want to see where they go from here.”

“Yeah?” Jiniraa breathed out, voice laced with desire.

“Yeah, I do,” Miles replied a little patronizingly. He watched her mouth open and close numerous times as she tried to find the words, “use your words, baby, tell me what you want.”

He needed her to say it. Say that she wanted him, but she remained quiet as she slowly brought her hand up to his chest, mirroring the flat palm he had against her. His eyes flickered down before returning to her face. She no longer was struggling to find the words. She knew what she wanted to say and how to say it. “Miles, you have a choice right now. You can continue what Quaritch started all those years ago or you can forge your own path. You have a strong heart. Let it tell you where you’re going next. Don’t let the memories of a dead man control this new life you have been blessed with.”

“That what you want me to do?”

“I want you to do what your heart is telling you to do.”

As so, Miles closed the gap between them and they finally connected. She stilled for a second before melting into him as she allowed her entire being to be consumed by his touch. The fire was racing across her skin. His hands wandered the expanse of her body, gripping and squeezing at every opportunity he had.

Jiniraa whimpered into his mouth, feeling light headed at the loss of air, but she didn’t dare separate them. Miles’ hand crept back from her chest to her neck, lightly resting along the sides but not applying any pressure. 

Miles’ tongue swiped along her lower lip, just a quick warning before he slipped it between her lips. He groaned into her mouth at the taste of her, lightly squeezing the sides of her throat, trying to coax another sound out of her. 

Jiniraa’s hands released Miles’ shirt from her grip before sliding it up his shoulders, feeling the muscle shift under her fingers. Her nails scraped along the length of his arm, pausing and making crescent shaped indents when he overwhelmed her senses. They finally settled on his own fingers around her neck. 

Needing air, Jiniraa reluctantly pulled back. Miles’ mouth tried to chase hers, but he wasn’t able to make contact. Opening his eyes, Miles was met with Jiniraa’s even more flushed face, half-lidded eyes, and of course her hand on top of his own, securing its place around her throat. Even though she was still fully clothed, it was the most seductive sight he’d ever seen. 

“I’ve chosen, baby.” Miles whispered, keeping the conversation hushed. “I promise you.”

Jiniraa smiled, eyes twinking, “oel ngati kameie, Miles.”

Next: Sixteen - Playin' Around

●●● 

we've officially entered a new era of this story. buckle up ;)

taglist - let me know if you'd like to be added

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@oceandeepthirst2

@bolggerist

@mxddymay

@ttreader

@luciddasher

@sofiebstar

@azilove

@fairycaitlin

@graysonmalik2550

@quaritchxx

@dakotali

#miles quaritch imagine #miles quaritch x oc #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch x oc #colonel miles quaritch x oc #colonel quaritch #avatar oc #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x oc #na'vi quaritch #na'vi oc #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar quaritch #quaritch smut #avatar smut #recom quaritch x oc #recom quaritch #recom wainfleet #recoms #lyle wainfleet #mansk avatar #recom mansk #quaritch avatar #promises to keep

[abbatoirablaze]

Locked Up, Chapter 9

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of a dead body

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed against his chest, clinging to the bloodied up uniform, “Ari, I’m so sor-“

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Ari sighed, kissing Viv’s temple as he smoothed her hair down in an attempt to comfort her, “it’s okay baby.  None of this was our fault.  You hear me?  None of this is your fault.  You didn’t know this was going to go down.”

“I’m the monster,” she sobbed as she shook her head, “I-I was sleeping with Lee because he was treating the inmates better…wh-when I did, he would be more lax with everyone.  I-I didn’t walk away when I started seeing Jake and Ransom…and then when he-“

“You’re not the monster, baby,” Ari sighed again, holding onto Viv, “you were doing what you did because he was an asshole to us.  He’s the real monster.  He had you by the leash and was dragging you around with him.  None of this is your fault, baby!”

“But I-“

“You’re an amazing, loving woman, Viv…and you found people you care about who just happen to be in a prison,” Ari reminded her gently as he held her face in his hands, “there’s nothing wrong with that.  There’s nothing wrong with that, or you.  We’re just in a fucked up situation, baby.”

“I’m your CO, Ari…there is-“

“So, is it wrong to love someone like Ransom?” he asked, pushing her limits, “you always tell me and him that you believed in his innocence from the first day you saw him.  He was traveling down a dark road and you kept him away from becoming a monster in here.  You saw past the cocky asshole that he pretends to be, Viv.  You saw the real him.  The loving, passionate brat that he is.  Monsters don’t do that!  They don’t see the good in others.  They only bring others down, baby.  That’s not you.  You make us better!”

“SIT DOWN, INMATE!”

Ransom’s head snapped in the direction of another one of the CO’s, “eat shit, Magda!”

“What did you say to me, inmate Drysdale?”

“You heard me!” he growled, storming off towards his cell.  He knew that the guard must have been following him, but he didn’t dare turn around.  Part of himself had expected to be struck from behind by the guard, but the blow never came.  When he reached his cell, he was surprised to see Jake on his tablet, “why the hell aren’t you out in the dayroom, Jensen?”

“I-I-“

“Fuck off!” he growled, rolling into his bunk and glaring at the bunk above it. 

A sharp tap on the wall brought both men’s attention towards the door.  Ransom smirked, seeing that it was the female CO, “Hey sweet cheeks…looking to get a taste of some of the finer cock in this joint?  We could kick Jensen here out, and I could show you what a real man is…hell, we could let Jensen stay and film it on his tablet.  Give him something for his spank bank.”

“RANSOM!” Jake gasped, eyes wide at his cell mate.

“Inmate Jensen…take a walk so I can talk to your bunkmate, before Magda comes in and crushes his windpipe with his baton.”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

And like that, Jake was off his bunk and out of the cell.  Ransom’s jaw ticked as he shot her a look.  He didn’t appreciate the fact that she didn’t have a response towards him.  He wanted to be the focus of the room and here she was just brushing his comments off.

“Magda deserves that…he treats everyone in here like trash.”

“Because most of the guys out there are!” she said pointedly.  Ransom’s jaw twitched yet again, and he shot her a look, “you’re mad your mom didn’t show up for visitation today, but that doesn’t mean you can take it out on whoever you feel like, inmate.”

Ransom scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Linda can eat shit!  I don’t care about the fact that she didn’t come around.  She’s doing what’s best for her and our ‘family name,’ leaving me to rot in a cell because she’s a heartless bitch.”

“You know, working as a CO you get a real taste of what some of these guys are like-“

“Good for you!” Ransom growled, “you saying you wanna taste me?”

“You’re not a killer, Drysdale…I can spot it a mile away…and you’re not it,” she said quickly in response, brushing off yet another forward comment, “you’re scared, Drysdale.  You’re not a killer, so stop hiding behind the crude remarks.

He gave her an angry look, “if you can spot it a mile away and seem so sure, why the hell am I charged with it then?”

“Because people are stupid…especially underpaid and overworked detectives who just want their closed cases numbers to stay high,” He was unable to stop the chuckle that left his lips.  Viv smiled in response, “I’m Viv…”

“Eat shit, Viv…”

“I’ll let that one slide, Drysdale,” she said with a smirk.  She took a few steps back until she was back at the door to his cell, “but I saw you peeping through there…from behind your little walls…I can see what’s behind all those guards you put up, Ransom.”

“Baby…” Ari tried, attempting to break her from her thoughts, “baby…can you hear me?  You’re not a monster.”

“She doesn’t fucking believe me…” Ransom sighed in disbelief as he watched his mother leave the visitor’s room, “I can’t believe it…she-she thinks I really did it.”

“Hugh…”

“Leave me alone, Viv…” he grumbled, not daring to look back to the corner of the room where she’d been standing the entire visit, “I-I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Maybe we should,” she offered gently.  Ransom jumped when he felt her hand on his shoulder, “that was kind of tough…what just happened.  It wasn’t something that-”

“You don’t know what just happened, Viv!” he hissed, shaking her arm off of his shoulder, “she was right.  I’m garbage…I-I killed Harlan.”

“You loved your grandfather, Hugh…you and I both know that,” she tried, sitting down in front of him, “I can’t even begin to count the number of times you’ve told me stories about you and your grandfather.  I know that you didn’t kill him.”

“Jesus Viv…you don’t fucking know everything.”

“No…but I know that you’re not a killer, Hugh…you never will be…because despite you acting like a prick, you’re one of the most thoughtful men I know!” she said firmly, pulling his face towards her own. 

“Viv…”

“Hey…you’re not a killer,” she sighed gently, her lips ghosting over his, “don’t let her make you think that you are.”

“I just-I don’t know what to think anymore,” he admitted, “everything feels so…”

“Beyond your control?”

He nodded, his lips grazing hers once again, “I-I want to kiss you right now…can-can I kiss you Viv?”

“Is that what you need?” she asked.

He nodded, and she pressed their lips together.  Ransom gasped, and melted against her kiss, allowing himself to feel vulnerable with her.  He knew that he had been trying to push her away, but it was obvious that she saw right through it and pulled him even closer. 

“Wh-why are you so good to me?” he asked gently as she pulled away from him.  She rested her head against his and sighed.

“You’re a good man, Hugh…I won’t let you regress into something you’re not…”

“I-I love you!” he whispered.

“I love you too, Hugh.”

“That’s just the type of woman you are, Viv!” he pointed out, breaking her from her thoughts, “you’re always there.  Always showing us that it’s okay to be vulnerable.  You’re always seeing past what the others have said that we were.  Everyone thought that I was a monster because I’m quiet.  Everyone treated me like I was because of it.  But you saw me for the man that I am.  You did that, Viv.  Monsters don’t do that.”

“Ari…” she sniffled, the tears streaking down her cheeks as she looked at one of the men that she loved, “i-“

“Don’t discredit it…please…” he begged her, “don’t say that you’re not this amazing soul…because you are!”

“Ari…we-we need to find Hugh…” she said desperately, “I-I need to know that both of you are safe.”

Ari nodded, helping her up, “he’s fine baby…he-he’s hunkered down in the shower room.  Just like the plan said…we’re going to wait out the riot there…”

She nodded and got up, but as they reached the door, she turned to look at the warden’s form, “Ari…wh-what about Lee?”

“We don’t have to worry about him baby…we won’t ever have to worry about him coming after the three of us again.”

Chapter 10

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @cjand10

#locked up #prison au #jail au #soft ari #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #knives out au #knives out #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #chris evans characters

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Guys My Age

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader

Summary: Daryl and the reader have had a 'sort of' sexual tension for a while but, given their age gap, Daryl's never made a point to act on it and neither has she. But it finally becomes too much when Daryl catches another man flirting with the reader.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (18+), swearing, mentions of alcohol.

A/n: This post was originally requested by @leahlovestwd but it was eaten by the tumblr-verse! How cruel, I know. So I wanted to write it in oneshot format to make it up to my lovely friend. I adore you, thanks for this request!!

"You have to stop looking at him like that." Maggie mutters to me, bumping me with her shoulder as she bounces Judith lightly on her lap, happy coos coming from her and she flashes a gummy smile.

"Like what?" I ask but I already know what she means, my lips parted and eyes longingly watching Daryl as he chops wood outside, biceps straining and sweat dripping down his forehead from spending so much time in the hot sun today. Much to my excitement, all I've had to do today was to watch him like a fool.

It's been harder to gawk at him since it's gotten dark outside, sounds of the walkers outside the chainmail fence making the environment a little less peaceful. He's thrown me a few glances every once in a while, Glenn reaching over to smack him every time he catches him looking at me.

"Like you're deprived of him. You're looking at him desperately." I am desperate for him. I just give her a simple shake of my head as if I'm trying to deny what she's saying but I can't lie for the life of me, skin flushing just at the thought of how much I truly, desperately want him.

"Because I'm desperate for him." I mutter, reaching out to take Judith from her, needing the distraction of her bubbly happiness to tear me away from my dark, naughty thoughts of someone who's nearly twice my age.

"Oh god, sweetheart, you need to just go talk to him. Beth said he always asks about you whenever you're not around." Maggie gushes, turning in her seat so she can face me completely, a wide grin on her lips as my head whips to look at her with wide eyes in disbelief.

"Yeah?" I gasp, stealing a glance at Daryl who enters the prison once more, stripping himself of his shirt and sealing the last bolt on the coffin in the grave I've dug for myself. "There's nearly fifteen years between the two of us, I don't think he's interested."

It's taken months for me to even speak to him and maintain a playful, somewhat flirty type of conversation and I can only imagine how long it'll take me to actually make any sort of substantial move towards him without worrying I'll offend him or, even worse, disgust him.

I think that will take some time.

"I think he probably thinks the same thing 'bout you." I bite at. mylip, letting myself go there- letting myself dream about the day that he tells me that we've both been fumbling around each other, walking on eggshells, worried about each of our feelings for one another. That would truly be the dream.

"You think so?" I ask once more and Maggie reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a soft, promising look.

"I know so." She chuckles, hand covering up to conceal the loud yawn that escapes her. "I gotta get some rest, you mind putting her to bed?" She nods at Judith and I give her a soft smile, looking down at the sleeping baby in my arms, pretty much answering Maggie's question.

"No I can do it, I'll talk to you in the morning." I reach out to give her hand a simple squeeze as she makes her way by me. I take a deep breath, cradling Jude to my chest as I snuggle down into the pillows and blankets beneath me the best I can, trying to do what I can with the makeshift couch the boys made for whoever's resting with Judith.

"Hey Y/n!" The rest of the boys enter the room moments later, a young guy Jake at the front and center and he's coming my way with a sleezy smirk on his lips. "You look good." He wipes his hands off with the rag that he tosses over his shoulder, hands resting on his hips.

"Thanks." I give him a polite smile, hoping it'll make him go away and when it doesn't and when he takes another step closer to me, I hold Judith tighter to me.

"She seems to have really taken a liking to you. Must be something about you." He coos and I bite back the urge to gag at the way he's obviously flirting with me, a not so subtle mischievous tone to his already creepy voice that he saves just for me.

"She's just a really easy baby." He doesn't seem to take my lazy answers and kneels down in front of me, not even bothering to look at Judith as he reaches out to brush some of my hair behind my ear.

"Or maybe because she can recognize a lovely woman."

"Thank you Jake, if you excuse me, I have to go put her down to bed." I'm quickly up on my feet, stirring Judith a bit but it won't matter when I'm away from Jake and safely tucked into her room.

"You know where to find me." Jake pats my hip as I walk by him and I bite back my grimace until I'm climbing the stairs, a shiver running down my spine at how creepy and forward it was of him to flirt with me in front of that whole room of people while I'm holding a baby.

"What a fucking creep." I mutter to myself as I lower Judith down into her crib, watching her squirm and attempt to roll but she gets stuck on her back, gurgling a bit before settling down. Her eyes close completely, fingers snug around my pointer finger and I grin, feeling so lucky that I get to have the company of this innocent life.

It makes the apocalypse so much more bearable.

"Hey." My head whips around to see Daryl standing in the doorway, leaning on the cell with a fresh shirt on, no more grease or dirt covering his tan skin.

"Hi Daryl." I smile, hearting racing as he takes a few steps towards me to peak over the side of the bed at Judith.

"She likes you." He reaches out to poke her belly, pulling a smile from her lips and I gasp, looking at him like 'how'd you do that?' and he chuckles, giving me a gentle shrug.

He's so soft and kind sometimes, the complete opposite of what he shows other people and I wish he'd loosen up a bit to show everyone the side that he shows me. Maybe some day but, for now, I'll struggle (not so much) being the only one he's gentle with.

"She likes you more." I bump him with my shoulder, seeing a gentle blush on his cheeks even in the dim, damp light of the prison.

"Nah, you're a natural." His compliment has a deeper meaning and I know it, but deciding to not tease him about it is probably the right idea. "Was Jake bugging you earlier?" HIs soft voice switches to something more stern, more protective than before, and I smile to myself, giving him a shake of my head even though I'm lying through my teeth.

"He always bugs me. Thinks I want something to do with him or something." I huff, reaching up to run my hands down my face with a quiet groan.

"I can take care of him if you need me to." I smile gratefully at his offer, loving how protective he gets.

"It's okay, I know I can handle him but when I can't I'll make sure to send him your way." I reach out to pat his chest, thanking him for his care but he just gives me a stern smile that says 'it's no problem'.

"Good." He mutters, looking back outside my cell for a moment as he bashfully reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"For what?" I ask, pulling my hand away from Judith, figuring if she's not asleep now, she will be soon. I fold my arms over my chest as Daryl thinks of what to say, a small shrug tugging his shoulders upwards.

"Bugging you too."

"You could never bug me." I promise, brows pulling together in a furrowed, confused look as he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief but after a moment a look of realization passes across his expression "Contrary to popular belief, I love being around you." He softens a bit, shoulders rolling in relief as we subtly exchange the feelings we've both been feeling for too long. We've been silent too long.

"I like being around you too. Maybe too much." He chuckles breathlessly with a wide eyed, knowing look.

"You don't gotta stand all the way over there, ya know." I offer with a sheepish smirk, swaying back and forth with my fingers linked behind my back. His brows raise subtly and cutely, almost asking a question that I can't put my finger on.

"If I step any closer, I'm afraid I'll do something I regret."

"Like?"

"Like kiss you." He whispers, the tips of his socks touching mine and I grin, reaching out to rest a hand on his chest.

"That's not as bad as what I was thinking of doing to you."

"Goddamn." He mutters and suddenly I feel so small under his gaze, wanting nothing more than to cave in on myself as I give him a bashful smile. "Oh really? What’s got you all quiet?” He asks, head tilting playfully at me as I grin, my eyes rolling. I lean forward, tucking my face into the crook of his neck awkwardly as he laughs, hands tentatively reaching out to rest on my hips, walking me further back towards the exit so he can lead me from Judith's room. "C'mon." dragging me into his room and shutting the door with his lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m not complaining at all, but what's got you flirting with me. I'm fucking shocked but not complaining.” He whispers sincerely through a small laugh and I peak up at him through my lashes, a coy smile on my lips. He smiles down at me softly, hands returning to the place on my hips, thumbs brushing into the bare skin where my shirt rides up.

“’m nervous.” I mumble, his eyebrows raising kindly as he shakes his head, not knowing what I mean.

“Why’s that?” He asks in return, his gaze fluttering over my face as I pause, the words that I've imagined saying to him for years now stuck on the tip of my tongue, unable to formulate and form a coherent thought. Daryl just looks at me, teasingly and longingly, but it's his hands and the way he's looking at me that has me fumbling.

His typical deep eyes have a certain mischievous depth to them, almost as if he knows that he's intimidating me beyond belief, stalking me like a predator watches a prey.

“I want more.” I whisper, the three words making his eyebrows pull together but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows exactly what I’m referring to.

“More of?” He urges simply, his fingers dancing under my shirt, the tips of his fingers dancing along my spine. Shivers erupt through my body, my frame moving closer to him, wanting nothing more than to be as close to him as I possibly can be.

“More of you.” My fingers gently fist the material of his shirt as he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss against my forehead. We're both waiting for the other person to make a move and, for a second, I think he's going to kiss me when he rests his forehead against mine, his nose bumping against mine as I wait for him to take the next step.

“There’s no rush.” He whispers, soothing all of my anxiety that I could possibly have, validating all of my worries and anxious thoughts. I nod, knowing his words are true but mine are truer.

“Why not rush, though?” I ask teasingly, laughing as he rolls his eyes playfully and his head lolls back. “I want to. I want more.” I shrug simply, his head bobbing in a nod and I watch as he ponders, my chin moving to rest against his sternum.

“What if I said I was nervous?” He asks, my eyes widening at the thought. I had never thought that he would also be hesitant to also have sex, but I could tell by the worried look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. The thought does nothing but comfort me and fill my belly with butterflies.

"Then we don't need to do anything if you don't want to." He thinks for another few moments, thoughts running rampant as he looks down at me. "No rush." I reiterate and suddenly he shifts, his body pushing me back towards his bed.

"I want more too." I look at him, waiting for any move, any words and he grins to himself before shoving me back towards the bed, my back hitting the mattress with a loud 'oof'. He's quick to follow me, crawling on top of me, fitting perfectly between my legs like he's meant to be there. “What if I also said that, when it comes to this, I really don’t know what I’m doing?” He chuckles shyly, a small sigh leaving my lips.

“Then I guess I’ll figure it out, hmm?” I reply simply, my body moving to push him over onto his back to take the stress off of him and take it into my own hands. He looks up at me, shocked, as my leg swings over his hip as I seat myself on top of him. His hands hover nervously over my thighs, his lips parting in a shocked look. “I think I can probably figure it out." I chuckle, watching his eyes flickering down from mine, to his lap and he looks nervous, his hands unsure of what to do or where to touch, like he’s never touched me before, never hugged me after a good hunting run or when we've finally managed to get Judith to bed after a long day.

But this, this I know, is different.

I take his hands in mine, moving them to rest against my thighs as his chest deflates in relief, thankful that I helped him make the first move. It's almost as if he wants. My hands wander, slipping under his shirt as I help him lift it over his head and y hands rest against his chest, dancing down his abdomen that tenses under my feather light touch.

“Fuck.” He whispers breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as I lean down to capture his lips in mine, taking him by surprise and pulling a deep groan from him. His strong hands cup my cheeks, guiding me through the kiss as his tongue brushes against my bottom lip. “Fuck, fine.” He whispers, hands moving up the expanse of my thighs to rest on my ass, gently pulling me against him. I moan as his hips jump against mine, the feeling making me stop my movements, my forehead resting against his shoulder. “I’m not rushing, but I am not cumming in my pants.” He whispers with a laugh as I snort, my lips moving to find to his.

Our moans mix between us as he hardens underneath me, the feeling making my head spin. My fingers wrap around the edge of my shirt, our lips briefly leaving each other’s to pull it over my head. I sit up, spine straightening and his eyes immediately train on my chest, his jaw slacking once more. I chuckle nervously at his reaction, his eyes moving to look up at mine. His hands move to rest on my waist, helping my hips move against his as he gasps. My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses me senselessly, my thighs shaking and aching and I moan greedily, nails scratching against his scalp as he whimpers, head falling back.

“I need you, Daryl.” I whisper, my eyes fluttering over every emotion that passes over his face; shock, excitement, nerves. His pupils are blown to high hell, lips swollen and damp from kissing me senselessly and his chest rises in heaves at my words, head bobbing in a stunned nod.

We make quick work of kicking our pants off, doubling checking that his cell is closed enough to ward off any possible intruders and I giggle, my lips finding his once more as an arm wraps an around my waist. He flips me over quickly onto my back, all of the air leaving my lungs at the move.

“Fuck that was hot.” I chuckle breathlessly, his eyebrows raising teasingly at me. “See? We can do this.” He nods, not needing any more convincing as he rests in between my thighs. Feeling him pressed against me, just flimsy layers of clothes separating us makes my mind fuzzy.

“Fuck you’re so warm.” He whispers, his forehead resting against mine as he peers down in between us and I move my thighs instinctively to wrap around his waist, pulling him even more against me as he moans, my lips taking advantage of the moment. The kiss is messy as his hips rut into mine, the movement completely out of his control at this point. I moan loudly at the feeling of him nudging against my clit, the fire in my belly growing hotter and hotter with every touch. “Fuck, I need you.” He whispers against my lips, my arms wrapping around his neck to claw at his back. I chuckle breathlessly, my reply coming out stuttered and slow.

“Then come on.” I urge with a smile, my back arching off the bed as he laughs. His fingers reach around my back, his tongue poking out as he attempts to unlatch my bra and, though he struggles for a moment, his eyes closing in concentration, he finally gets it with a proud laugh. He pulls the material away from my body before tossing it to the ground without care, pressing his lips to my chest, no hesitation. I moan loudly as his lips brush over my nipples, the skin heated and sensitive. My hips buck into his, his lips traveling down my sternum and to my stomach. “No, no, no. Come on, please.” I whimper at his teasing, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Let me taste you.” He whispers in a small plea, lips brushing against the tops of my panties and I whimper at the feeling, his fingers gently teasing against my thighs.

“I want you inside of me, please.” I beg and his lips gently press against my clit through my panties and my head falls against the mattress with a thump as I give in, a pleased moan leaving his lips.

“Gotta spend some time in between your thighs.” He whispers, my knees bending as he flattens his tongue against me, humming quietly. My fingers thread through his hair as he sighs, his index finger pulling the clothing to the side. He chuckles gently at the reactions he's dragging out of me and his fingers move to pull my underwear off of my body, tossing them to the floor with my bra as he hums. He crawls up my body, lips finding their home on mine as I whine.

Finally, after a few moments of trying to slip out of his boxers, he’s successful. I feel him rest against me, bumping against my clit as he pulls away from me, his eyes burning into mine.

“You had this planned. You’re the one fucking me.” He mutters teasingly and my head tosses back at his words, my eyes fluttering shut and after few beats of silence, his lips press against my cheek as I sigh. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” He asks quietly, his thumb rubbing into my hip as I smile softly up at him.

“Of course.” I whisper, my fingers gently running through his hair. “Don’t feel bad if you finish and I don’t.” I add, his eyes rolling playfully as his cheeks warm. "Old man."

“Either way, you’re cumming." He whispers gruffly, his naughty words contradicting his tone that sounds like a promise. I feel him position himself against me, my heart pounding in my ears as I grip onto his shoulders, preparing myself for what's to come with nervous butterflies in my stomach.. “Shh.” He whispers, gently placing kisses along my skin as he tucks himself into the crook of my neck as he slowly pushes into me, the sting of the stretch makes me gasp. His hands gently rub my hips, trying his best to soothe me. “Ohhh fuck.” He moans, his hips stilling as he bottoms out. I take deep breaths, tears pricking my eyes as he kisses my cheek softly. “You okay?” He asks, his eyes finding mine in the dark room as I moan.

“Burns. In a good way, though.” I let out a small laugh, the groan leaving his lips makes my walls flutter around him.

“Fuck you are so-” He cuts himself off, twitching inside of me and I hum, feeling so full and safe with him wrapped around me. “So warm and- fuck- tight.” He whispers, gently sucking on the sensitive skin of my neck, probably leaving marks but I can't find it in me to care. I relax into him, the feeling of his fingers gently kneading the skin of my breast making the burning sensation dies down a bit. He gently pulls out before thrusting back in, a moan leaving my lips at the feeling. The way that he seems to be filling me, make my legs tremble, moans leave my lips uncontrollably; that's hot enough on its own.

After a few minutes, the pain wears off and his thrusts speeding up. Our moans and whimpers mix in the room, his lips occasionally finding mine in a messy kiss. I’m completely soaked now, dripping around him and onto the bed below us. One of his hands travels down to wrap a hand around my thigh, hoisting it high on his hip as I squeal.

“That feel good?” He asks, my head throwing back as I moan loudly. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He chuckles happily into the crook of my neck, his thrusts deep and slow as I hold onto him as if I'll evaporate from his grasp. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.” I know that either way I’m going to end up enjoying myself and, deciding to take things into my own hands, I clench around him, enjoying the way that he stutters out a breathy moan.

“You can cum. I want you to.” I whisper, my lips skimming against the shell of his ear and he moans loudly, hips pounding into mine as he grips my waist, chasing his high as I thread my fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug. He groans loudly and his shoulders strain deliciously as he gasps, fingers fisting the sheets beside to me.

“Come on, Daryl. Please.” I whisper, my fingers gently pulling at his hair as he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his hips thrusting a few more times before slowing their pace and I can feel the way he's filled me out when he thrusts out of me the slightest bit.

Quiet breaths leave his lips, his back heaving with strained breathes and the room settles in a comfortable silence, my fingers gently raking through his unruly hair, the other hand rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he rests his weight on me.

His hips rest between my trembling ones, still buried inside of me as he softens and I find my place gently press kisses to his temple, his head shifting to press a kiss to my throat. No words are said, there’s nothing to say. We sit in a comfortable silence, arms wrapped around each other. I can tell he’s shy, his face not leaving my shoulder as I feel his eyelashes blink against my skin.

I gently run my fingers through his hair once more before moving to rest on his jaw, tilting his chin upwards. I look down at the sleepy man, his eyes blinking slowly, a shy smile on his lips.

“Sleepy?” I ask, a small hum leaving his lips as he closes his eyes, rolling over and using his discarded shirt to clean the two of us before pulling me into his arms. I rest with my head on his chest, his hands pulling at the blankets to cover our naked bodies, figuring we'll worry about the logistics and feelings of what we just did in the morning.

Well that took no time at all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

[ourtearsofrain]

Chapter 8- Above the Cyclone (Polaris POV)

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader, background sort of Sam x Danny

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: little over 1.6 k

Warnings: Sam’s a bit of an asshole at first, mentions of blood and wounds, descriptions of torture (not too explicit)

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Your head throbs as you open your eyes, squinting at the light from the singular lantern on the wall outside the bars of your cell. Your hand instinctively reaches for your belt, only to find your dagger and sword gone. Noticing the shackles on your wrists, you begin trying to squeeze your hands out of them, the metal cutting into your skin.

“Already tried that.”

You look over to see Samuel hunched in the corner next to you as he holds his arms up, his wrists raw and worn as lines of blood trail up his forearms, staining the white of his sleeves.

“What do we do now, Samuel?” you whisper.

He shrugs, his eyes tired and bruised, having already accepted his fate. “Pray they kill us quickly.”

“You’ve already given up? The others will surely try to rescue us.”

“Of course I’ve given up.” He snaps. “It’s Lady Helena, she’s not exactly known for her hospitality to her prisoners. And I know the others will try, but we’ll be long dead before they even get close to finding wherever we are.”

You say nothing, fearing that he was right.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” He scoffs. “She finally manages to capture one of us, and I’m stuck in a cell with you.”

Again, you stay quiet, and he is more than willing to fill the silence with his own voice.

“We could have killed you, but we were foolish enough to take you in. We’ve given you food, shelter, kindness, and this whole time she has been your sister.”

You laugh humorlessly at his words, and he scowls at you before you speak.

“You have given me nothing, Samuel. Rosanna gave me food. So did Jake and Danny. It was Danny that offered to show me back to the house, gave me a bed to sleep in. I have known no kindness from you or Joshua over the last day or two of my life.”

This time, it’s Samuel who says nothing, allowing you to collect your thoughts before continuing.

“And do you really think I would be in this cell with you if I had any semblance of a positive relationship with Helena? If we were allies?”

“She could have locked you in here with me to trick us, to make us think you shared no loyalty.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look away from him, eventually leaning back to rest your head against the wall.

“I always have to be the fucking bad guy to you and Joshua, don’t I? Do you even hear yourself? Who is there to trick, Samuel? You already said it, she’s going to kill us, by the time the others reach us we’ll be dead.”

He sighs, considering your reasoning. “I know. I’m- I’m sorry. Maybe we have been too hard on you.”

His apology causes you to look at him, his expression sincere as he looks back.

“Thank you- I understand why you distrust me even before finding out Helena is my sister, after what happened to your father.”

“Daniel told you, didn’t he?”

“Yes… he also told me about his parents. About how you helped him get through that.”

Samuel laughs lightly. “Yeah, of course he told you about that. That man is an open book to anyone he trusts.”

He says nothing as he thinks of his friend.

“Maybe we should have trusted you more. Daniel has an annoyingly amazing judge of character, even to people he’s just met. Again, I’m sorry.”

You offer him a small smile. “It’s alright.”

The light catches on his tears as they begin streaming down his face.

“I would never- never admit this to anyone but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He pauses, and you wait patiently for him to continue.

“I never got the chance to tell him- to tell him that I love him.”

His voice breaks as he brings a hand up to his mouth, drawing his knees into his body as he begins to sob.

“I don’t- I don’t know how much he told you about us but, we’ve done things together. I always gave the excuse that I was just lonely being at sea for so long. I never got to tell him how much those nights together meant to me. How my heart would break each morning as he left my quarters without saying a word. I was too scared that he didn’t feel the same, so I never told him. Now I never will.”

You scoot closer to him, close enough to reach out and lightly place your hand on his knee.

“You- you still could.”

He laughs through his tears, once again humorless as he gestures to your surroundings.

“Alright, and say we survive, they save us. I would rather die than live knowing he didn’t feel the same.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider whether it is your place to share what you knew with him. As you began to accept your fate, you decide to tell him, reasoning that it was the least you could do to comfort him before you died.

“He does. He told me, he- he feels the same, Samuel. He always has.”

He pauses for a moment, disbelief passing over his face as he shakes his head.

“I don’t know if I should feel relief or regret. All these years together, we could have- we could have had so much more.”

“You still could.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “While I still think your hope is foolish, it is comforting somehow.”

“It’s not over until we meet The Master.”

You squeeze his knee gently before removing your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself as you begin to shiver, the coldness of the room piercing through the air and off the stone both below and behind you. Samuel raises his arm slightly.

“Come here.”

Confusion paints your features at this sudden show of kindness. “What?”

“I said, come here. You’re obviously cold, so hurry up before I change my mind.”

You make your way back to him quickly, tucking your body into his side as he lowers his arm. Heat radiates from his body, causing you to scoot even closer as you warm your hands on his stomach.

“You’re like a fucking human fire, Jesus.”

Samuel laughs, “Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

You rest your head against his shoulder as you close your eyes, exhaustion overtaking you as you fall into a restless sleep.

~

You awake to a sharp pain in your side, your eyes flying open as you squint at the harsh afternoon light filtering in through the small window, only to see Helena grinning down at you as she prods the tip of her sword into your side. She pulls the blade away when she sees you awake, beginning to shake Samuel as he slept next to you. He too awakens quickly before he shoots back, trying to move further into the corner to increase the distance between him and Helena.

“Nice to see you two finally getting along. Almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do.”

She bends down to a crouch in front of you both, looking between you and Samuel hungrily. She points at you.

“Eenie.”

“Meenie” She points to Samuel next.

“Miney.” You.

“Moe.” Samuel.

She grins, once again pointing her sword at you.

“Get off him. You, get up.”

Samuel doesn’t move, earning him a slash to his forearm from her sword. He hisses, bringing his hand to the gash as it begins to bleed.

“I said, up.”

He reluctantly stands, and you are joined by two other pirates in the cell. One of them draws his sword, focusing his attention on you to ensure you wouldn’t try to make an escape. The other unlocks the shackle keeping Samuel tethered to the wall, taking the chain between his wrists in his hand as he drags him forward, Helenas blade pointed at his throat the entire time. The four of them leave your cell, locking the door quickly as they lead Samuel away.

With the threat of the blade gone you stand, running towards the door as far as your chains will allow you.

“Samuel!” You yell after him.

He offers you one last look, pained and fearful as they drag him away.

“It’s ok, Polaris. I’ll be back. It’s- it’s going to be ok.”

He disappears from your sight, and you slump to the floor once more as tears spill from your eyes. You steady your breaths, practically holding it as you listen for any sound of Samuels fate.

Minutes pass. You hear nothing. You continue to wait silently. Your ears perk up as you hear chains scraping against metal.

A whip cracks loudly, and Samuels screams of pain follow it.

“SAMUEL!” Your own screams rip at your vocal cords as you begin to sob.

Another crack, another scream.

You yell for Samuel once more, hearing no response.

Another crack. Another scream.

“No no no no no stop stop STOP!”

You bring your hands to your ears, covering them as you curl into a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth.

You drift in and out of consciousness, and you feel each crack from the whip each time it rings against the stone. Eventually you no longer hear anything after each crack, causing fear to grip your heart as you can do nothing but wait.

Chains against metal. Footsteps. You stand abruptly as two men enter the room again, dragging Samuel’s limp body by his arms. One of them unlocks the cell door, the other entering the cell and throwing Samuel at your feet. He lands face down as they re-lock the cell door, his shirt shredded and stained a deep red, his back split and bloody.

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A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak

#greta van fleet #gvf fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam gvf #jake kiszka x reader #pirates #pirate jake kiszka

[sjsmith56]

Island Recluse

Summary: A woman writer is drawn into a 10 million dollar prize being offered to the person who finds and writes about Bucky Barnes, who went into hiding after helping Captain America deal with the Flag Smashers. Tracking the clues to an exclusive resort on a remote island in the Bahamas, she finds things there aren’t quite what they seem.

Length: 6.1 K

Characters: Named OFC (Maya Riggs, no physical description), Jerry the pilot, Curtis (resort attendant), Antoine (resort manager), Jake (resort bartender), and Kelly, (worker at the resort), Pepper Stark. (The resort people are in disguise.)

Warnings: deliberate over serving OFC alcohol, deliberate drugging of OFC (not done for malicious purposes), description of further trauma for Bucky Barnes, deliberate memory loss (for good reason).

Author notes: This plot appeared in a dream but was considerably darker. Told in first person by OFC.

Masterlist

🏝️ 🍹

It started out as rumours; someone was offering a big commission to find an individual and write an investigative article about him, a man who was an enigma from the time his identity had been connected with the infamous assassin known as the Winter Soldier. The man, Bucky Barnes, had defied all attempts in the second half of the 20th century and then another decade into the 21st to find and neutralize him. The longest serving PoW ever recorded, he had been kept as a prisoner of HYDRA, changed into a super soldier, tortured, brainwashed, then forced into becoming an assassin, taking out whoever HYDRA ordered him to, until his final mission. That was the one where he was ordered to kill his childhood friend, Steve Rogers. His own memories had resurfaced, fought the programming that forced him to kill. He saved his friend and, in the process, helped to bring down the secretive organization that were this close to taking control of the world. Then Barnes, after helping the next Captain America, Sam Wilson, defeat the Flag Smashers kind of fell off the radar. He left New York, moved to Louisiana for a while, then just disappeared.

There were sightings of him; running a bar in the Maldives, operating a fishing boat charter in Huatulco, Mexico, even a rumour he had opened a restaurant in Thailand but by the time anyone wanting a piece of that commission got there he was gone, like the ghost he was thought to be at the height of his assassin years. When I got a mysterious email, offering me, Maya Riggs, still struggling to pay my college tuition, the chance to join in the search for the elusive Barnes I jumped at it. This was my chance to prove I could work with the big names in journalism; find the clues that would lead me to Barnes, then write about the chase, and perhaps about the man. My reward would be a cool 10 million, as well as the title of the writer who cracked the mystery of where Barnes was.

Two years later I was on the cusp of what I was sure to be the biggest story of my life. I was in a seaplane flying in a long sweeping arc over a remote crescent shaped island in the Bahamas group of islands. On the aircraft’s final approach towards the multipurpose dock that seemed to be the only access point to Lunatum Island I noticed the thick foliage on the small but lush isolated refuge. It was thicker than I expected, almost as if it was saying I was going to have to dig deeper to find any answers. As the pilot skillfully landed the small aircraft on the calm turquoise waters, the seemingly endless white sand beach looked like it extended forever but I knew from looking at maps that the beaches were only present on the inner part of the small crescent shaped isle. Still, when it’s the only land for many miles it could feel bigger.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked the pilot, Jerry. “You’re fortunate to come here. It’s very exclusive and I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve ever flown here.”

“Yet the resort can hold a good two dozen guests,” I replied. “How do they get here?”

“Personal aircraft,” he said. “Not by charter, not mine at least.”

A man on the dock waited for us, signalling the pilot when he was close enough to the dock, then stepping onto the pontoon with a rope to fasten the plane to the structure. The man, with light brown hair smiled as he opened the passenger door.

“Miss Riggs? I’m Curtis. Welcome to Lunatum Island. Your publisher sent a radio message that your pickup will be in one week. Jerry here will return for you then. We’re just waiting for an outgoing guest to get here. If you want to wait in the shade, there are some refreshments in ice for you under the trees on the beach. You’ll go back on the golf cart with Antoine. I’ll bring your luggage.”

So much for coming here incognito. I had already lined up a publisher for a travel story on the mysterious island resort, convincing them to pony up the money to stay here. It wasn’t cheap, more than a year’s tuition at many prestigious colleges. But I was certain that I had the final destination of James Buchanan Barnes. That commission check would be mine.

I thanked Jerry for the great flight then walked on the dock towards the beach. A large metal washtub filled with ice was full of assorted bottled drinks, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Picking up a beer I opened it then sat on one of the lounge chairs and put my feet up while I took a long drink of the cold beverage. Curtis was talking with Jerry, the pilot, joking in the way that men of brief acquaintance often do. Then he reached in back of the aircraft and pulled out my suitcase, bringing it down the dock towards me.

“How long have you worked here?” I asked when he stood near me.

“A few years,” he replied. “Got out of the services, bummed around a bit, then heard they were looking for someone to handle incoming flights and be a gofer for a private resort. It’s nice and quiet here.”

“How many staff?”

He shrugged. “Many of our guests bring their own. Other than me, there’s Antoine, Jake runs the bar, and we have different chefs that work on their newest creations in solitude that provides the cooking, plus the odd person who is hired on as needed. It works.”

“How many guests are here right now?” I asked casually. “Anyone famous?”

He turned a serious gaze on me. “Our guests come here expecting complete and total privacy. They get it. I would suggest you tone down your curiosity as it could lead to problems, and you wouldn’t be allowed to stay to write your travel article.”

If it was a threat, it was a subtle one but before I could respond we both heard the sound of a golf cart approaching. Driven by a dark-haired man with a single passenger, a very angry but beautiful woman, the cart stopped at where the dock met the sandy beach. Without even waiting for Antoine to get out the woman angrily stepped off the cart and grabbed her suitcase, depositing it loudly on the dock.

“I have never been in a place with such indifferent service,” she complained to Antoine. “No tip for you and I’ll be giving you zeroes across the board on every travel website I can. You call this exclusive? I call it a scam.”

She stalked towards the seaplane, leaving Curtis to bring her suitcase. Antoine, seemingly not bothered by the little scene looked at me.

“Miss Riggs, I presume,” he stated. “Sorry about that. Miss Webster had a different type of resort in mind when she booked her week here, expecting to be waited on hand and foot in a spa experience. That’s not what we’re about.”

I looked at her, now struggling to get into the small seaplane. “She didn’t know you offer a complete break from the world I take it. No wifi, no cell phone coverage, just a place of calm to recharge.”

He smiled. “You get it. Come on, I’ll take you to your bungalow.”

Grabbing my suitcase he put it in the back of the golf cart, waited for me to get in then started towards the other end of the island. While he was happy to talk about the natural beauty of the location, when I began questioning him about the type of people who stayed here, he reacted just like Curtis did and told me not to pursue questions about any of the guests. When we got to the bungalow, I walked inside, pleasantly surprised to find a beautifully laid out oasis of calm. The pastel colours of the walls seemed to promote the feeling of total relaxation. The bed, a large king sized one, was covered in what were evidently expensive linens. Showing me the bathroom facilities, I could tell that no money had been spared in the quality of the fittings.

“The bar is open from 11 am to 11 pm daily,” said Antoine. “It is also where breakfast is served until 10 am, lunch from noon to 2 pm, and dinner from 6 pm until 9 pm. All food and drinks are included in the cost and tipping is not permitted. Power is solar and battery operated while we have a very deep well to provide water so you can shower as long as you wish. As you already know there is no cell phone coverage or wifi so you are completely cut off from the rest of the world.”

“How do you stay in contact?” I asked.

“Long distance radio,” he answered, just a little too quickly for my tastes. “As Curtis no doubt explained and I am confirming again, the privacy of our guests is paramount. You are not at liberty to photograph them without their permission, nor are you to go snooping around their bungalows. The same goes for them as regards to you. I hope you take this opportunity to take a break from the rat race and enjoy our relaxing atmosphere.”

He left me then and I opened my suitcase, pulling out a bathing suit and coverup. Quickly taking a shower I changed and headed towards the bar, located centrally on the widest part of the beach. I had to start somewhere. When I got there several people were sitting in scattered groupings. They all stopped talking when I entered then resumed their conversations after I sat at the bar.

“Hi, what’s your pleasure?” asked the bartender. “I can make just about anything.”

“Surprise me,” I said. “Something tropical and sweet but refreshing.”

With a grin he began mixing some drinks, glancing up at me every so often. I watched him, noticing his well-built physique under the tight shirt he was wearing. His muscular arms were definitely impressive, and I wondered how he kept fit in such a remote environment. Placing an aqua blue coloured drink that matched the colour of the ocean around us in front of me, he topped it off with a skewer of lime and a maraschino cherry.

“A Hypnotic Breeze,” he stated. “Hypnotiq, white rum, lime juice, pineapple juice and simple syrup. Tell me what you think.”

Sipping it gave me a rush of sweet and tart but definitely tasty and I told him, making him grin as if I had made his day. After that one he made another while we talked about various things. It was a different cocktail, but equally as good and definitely potent as I could feel myself becoming more relaxed. It also made me bold as I began to study the other guests, trying to figure out their identities. The bartender, whose name tag Jake confirmed the name that Curtis gave me, watched me while he made drinks for the others, taking them out on trays. He would stand and talk with them, joking about different things, then come back to see if I wanted another drink, which I did as they were so good. When dinner was announced I couldn’t believe the time had gone by so quickly.

“Would you like your meal here at the bar or at one of the tables?” asked Jake. “It’s your choice.”

“Here,” I answered, “so I can look at your pretty eyes.”

He smiled slightly when I said that and set me up with cutlery. I had just enough of my wits about me to push my luck.

“No one ever said you had pretty eyes before?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft and unthreatening.

“Sure, many times,” he answered. Then he leaned towards me. “It’s just that I never heard it from a guest who hasn’t been drinking.”

“That’s too bad,” I replied, feeling even more bold with the alcohol flowing through my system. “I thought you had pretty eyes before I started drinking. And a nice build, and a hot ass.”

He blushed, which surprised me, that a man as good looking as him would still blush at being complimented. Someone from the kitchen, the chef maybe, appeared with a tray of food and together they served everyone, still sitting at their tables, finishing with me. As I speared a shrimp, I realized that no one had taken an order from me. Then I bit into the shrimp and didn’t care as it was plump and juicy and perfect. Seasoned with just the right amount of butter and garlic I couldn’t get enough of it or the pasta it was paired with. It was incredible food. The wine that was served with it was sublime, and then the pièce de résistance was the chocolate mousse dessert that appeared in front of me. Jake smiled at me, watching with amusement, as I dug into it, seemingly enjoying my cries of delight over the rich creaminess of the final course in the meal. It was the perfect way to finish my first day at the resort. Afterwards I stuck to sparkling water, lounging on a beach chair in the deepening twilight, until I returned to my bungalow and fell into an incredible sleep.

The following day I went to the bar, where breakfast was served buffet style. The assortment of tea, coffee and juices were also self-serve, and I ate without any worries. Although I looked for Jake he wasn’t there, and I guessed he had mornings off. I spent the morning exploring, avoiding the residences as I was warned but I did look for any sign of technology, still not quite believing this island was as cut-off as they claimed. I saw Antoine and Curtis a couple of times, waving to them as I walked. After an excellent lunch of all sorts of salads, and cold dishes designed to refresh I took a nap, then went swimming. Despite my misgivings over the legitimacy of the resort I could feel myself being lulled into the sense of timelessness it offered.

Dinner was as superb as the night before as I sat at the bar, once again admiring Jake. There were other guests there, but he seemed to be focused on my needs.

“So, you had a good first day?” he asked, as he made me another Hypnotic Breeze without asking. “What did you do?”

I told him about exploring and swimming. After sipping my drink, I looked at him again.

“So, what’s your story?” I asked. “You seem awfully young to be working in such a remote location.”

“I’m older than I look,” he admitted. “Was in the army, had some issues, couldn’t function well in a busier place so I looked for a small quiet corner of the world and found it here. I’m happy.”

“No one special in your life?” I asked, toying with the maraschino cherry.

“No. Haven’t met the right one yet. Most women my age like being where all the excitement is, and I don’t.”

He left me then as one of the other guests waved to him and I watched as they spoke, making him grin a little then they looked back to me. Returning to behind the bar he made another round of drinks for them and served them. By the time he returned I was ready for another drink.

“How about a Tropical Bay Breeze?” he asked. “Coconut rum, pineapple and cranberry juice. Easy but tasty.”

I nodded, finding it as good as he suggested. Throughout the evening he gave me more drinks to try. If I had been more suspicious, I would have wondered if he had designs on me based on the amount of alcohol he served me, but he never crossed any lines of behaviour. Not once did he use a pickup line on me or touch me. I did talk to him about writing and how much debt I was in after finishing my journalism degree. Somehow the topic of the 10-million-dollar prize to the writer who found Bucky Barnes came up. He smiled slightly, if a little sadly.

“Is that why you’re really here?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” I spluttered, wondering why I had mentioned it, even as the alcohol haze settled over me. “I’m here to write a travel article. I mean, this is the most exclusive resort in the world. Any writer would give an arm and a leg for an opportunity just to write about this place, right?”

I looked behind me to see what the others thought and was surprised to find I was the only one left in the bar.

“Where did they all go?” I asked.

Jake smiled sadly again. “Back to their bungalows. They do that with every new guest on the island. They don’t want to affect the lottery.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. “Lottery, what lottery?”

He smiled again and I got the feeling he was disappointed in me. “On the people that come looking for Bucky Barnes,” he replied. “There’s a lottery on what happens when they don’t find him.”

Okay, I was detecting a definite amount of emotion in how he said that, and I suddenly wanted to go back to my bungalow. I slid off the barstool, almost falling over with the motion. He reached out to steady me, but I put my hands out, not wanting his help. I was a big girl. I had been drunk before and could make my way home by myself. I headed one way and heard his voice.

“Maya, your bungalow is the other way,” he said softly.

“Right,” I nodded and turned around, stumbling out of the bar.

It took a while, step by step, one foot in front of the other, but I made it back and fell onto my bed before I had a thought. Who brought up the topic of Bucky Barnes? Was it him or me? Who were these people, really?

🛌 💊

When I woke up, I was under the covers of the bed, still in my clothes, although my shoes had been removed. My head was pounding from the hangover. Beside the bed was a bottle of water and a couple of painkillers. Someone knew I would need this, and I took them, draining almost half the bottle to chase the pills. When the headache subsided, I roused myself to have a shower and changed into shorts and a tank top. I dispensed with putting on the makeup and did my hair in a single French braid. As I did, the last thoughts I remembered from the night before came to my mind.

Determined to get an answer I headed for the bar. Breakfast was still ongoing, and like before it was all self-serve, with no sign of Jake. A young woman came out to replenish one of the dishes and I went to her.

“Is Jake around?” I asked. “I want to apologize to him for my behaviour last night.”

“Jake is off this morning,” she replied.

I looked at her name tag, Kelly.

“How long have you been here, Kelly?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of orange juice and taking a sip.

“About a year,” she answered. “Not full time as I have a job on the mainland. When I have breaks there I come here to work as it’s just as relaxing as taking a vacation. It’s so laid back, you know?”

“Sounds ideal,” I said. “Were you in college?” She shook her head but didn’t answer. “Jake said something to me last night that puzzled me. Maybe you can explain why he said it.”

She stopped what she was doing and stood directly in front of me with her arms crossed. Her demeanour had shifted somewhat but I couldn’t really tell why she seemed irritated with me, considering I had never met her before.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask away.”

“He said something about a lottery involving people looking for Bucky Barnes.” I spit it out. No point pussyfooting around the question. “What did he mean?”

“What do you think?” she asked, sounding defensive.

“I think he thought I’m here looking for the Winter Soldier,” I replied.

“Don’t call him that,” she retorted, suddenly sounding protective. “It’s wrong, so wrong.”

“What do you know, Kelly?”

Antoine appeared from the kitchen. “Kelly, take your break, okay? I’ll take over.” He looked sternly at me. “Miss Riggs, I warned you about asking about the other guests.”

“So, he is here,” I stated. “This is where he’s hiding out. I haven’t even seen him but I’m in trouble for just asking. What’s this about a lottery involving the people looking for Barnes? Why do you think I’m looking for him?”

Antoine sighed. “Because you are, aren’t you? Nearly every stranger that comes here is looking for him and he just wants to be left alone. He’s suffered enough and the world will continue on without knowing anything more about Bucky Barnes.”

“Just let me talk to him,” I said. “If I hear it from his lips then I’ll leave, and I won’t say anything.”

“I bet 10 million dollars that you will,” said Antoine, who nodded at someone behind me.

As I turned to see who it was, I felt something prick my neck and I began to feel lightheaded then drowsy. The weird part is that Antoine took his face off and underneath he was Tony Stark, but everyone knew that Tony Stark died in October 2023, from the injuries he received when he and the Avengers saved the world from Thanos.

“I really thought she would be different,” said a familiar voice, Jake’s voice.

Then I blacked out completely.

💉 🌅 🌌

It was almost sunset when I woke up. I was still in the bar, but I was seated on one of the plush armchairs, curled up on it like a cat in front of a fireplace.

“There she is,” said a soft voice and I turned my head towards it.

It was him, Bucky Barnes, his face lit up by the setting sun, his hair long but the top part pulled back away from his face and fastened with a hair tie. His lower face was covered by his full beard, but it was his eyes that caught my attention as they gazed at me, studying every part of my face. Self-consciously I sat up and he handed me a water bottle.

“You should drink it, so you don’t feel dehydrated,” he said. “The sedative can do that. I’m sorry about that. They’re pretty protective of me and once you spooked Kate, Tony had to intervene, and Clint decided to take action.”

“You drugged me?” I was angry. “What gives you the right?”

“What gives you the right to come onto a private island looking for a man who’s in hiding?” asked another voice and I turned the other way to see Tony Stark.

“You’re dead,” I said. “You died.”

“I almost died and decided to check out permanently,” he said. “This is my island, and you were my guest, but you couldn’t even respect my wishes. You had to ask questions even though you were warned.”

“Tony, please,” interrupted Bucky. “Let me talk to her. I know you’re angry, but she was only at the question stage because I mentioned my name and the lottery. Kate did overreact and so did Clint.”

Kate, Clint … was he talking about Kate Bishop and her Hawkeye predecessor, Clint Barton? I was so confused. Bucky stood up and offered me his hand. At first, I hesitated.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” he said calmly. “I’m going to tell you everything, but I need you to trust me, just a little. Please, Maya.”

Tony huffed a little, but he raised his hands in surrender, and I stood up, taking Bucky’s hand. He led me out onto the beach. We walked silently for a bit, and I have to admit it was nice, romantic almost, but the fact remained that they drugged me, and I wanted answers. He stopped where there were a couple of lounge chairs facing the water and gestured for me to sit.

“A few months after Sam Wilson and I dispensed with the Flag Smashers I was kidnapped, drugged, and woke up in one of the HYDRA bases I had been kept in,” he said. “Of course, I was afraid, but I thought I could fight my way out, except for one thing. They found a way to reinstall the Winter Soldier, permanently, and were prepared to stop me from leaving in any way imaginable so they could force the transition on me. Before they could do it, I was rescued by the Black Panther, Captain America, both Hawkeyes, the sister of Black Widow and US Agent.” He smirked after the last name. “I was surprised at his cooperation, but they asked for his help and with a million-dollar payout from Pepper Stark he agreed. The Black Panther took the information on how they were going to turn me back and realized there was nothing that could be done to stop or undo it. So, it was suggested that I retire and go into hiding. Except it always seemed like people found me.”

“So, the Maldives, Mexico and Thailand really were you?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m adaptable and a quick learner and would have been happy doing any of those things for the rest of my life but people kept looking for me. Then Pepper Stark let me in on a big secret. Tony survived his encounter with Thanos. He was sick a long time, but he got better. He wanted out, wanted time with her and their daughter so he bought this island and offered me a place to live. The Avengers come here to relax, and I act as chef sometimes, bartender other times, but most of the time I read, work out, swim, and enjoy living a life of peace and quiet.”

“The arm.” I gestured to his apparently flesh left arm.

“It’s an enchantment,” he replied. “The nano mask is problematic on a body part.”

“The commission, it’s really a bounty, isn’t it?” I asked, feeling sick at the thought.

“Yeah, that’s what it is,” he said. “You’re not the first one to come here. They get the information and approach someone to come to the island, bribing their way onto it, a woman usually.” I could see him smile in the deepening twilight. “They think I’m lonely and that I can be seduced. Occasionally, they send a man, but I like women better.”

I looked back down the beach, seeing the outline of Tony and Clint. “They’re in jeopardy as well, aren’t they?”

“Yup, all three of us just want to live a quiet life without anyone bothering us.” He shifted to face me. “Tony lets the incursion happen wanting to see if the person is aware of how they’re being used or if they’re an actual operative. I figured out pretty easily that you weren’t aware.”

“I got drunk and blabby,” I smiled. “That’s me. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, for all of you. They haven’t figured out that Tony and Clint are part of it, have they?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. It’s been close, close enough that Tony has bought another island and is in the process of setting up there. He’ll sell this one, bury the sale in layers of straw sellers and buyers so that they can’t make the connection. We’ll go to another place and start over.” He stood up, gazing at me as I stood up in front of him. “Out of all the women that have made it here I was attracted to you the most. For a brief moment I pictured a life here with you.”

“I won’t tell them where you are,” I said. “None of you have to fear that.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But it’s not that easy.” Even in the dark, his eyes became glassy. “They can’t take any chances and although they won’t hurt you, they won’t let you remember what happened here. It’s better that way, safer for us and for you. I’m sorry.”

I understood suddenly what he meant, remembering the angry woman who was leaving as I was arriving. She was there for the bounty, but her memories were altered so all she remembered was being treated poorly at a high-end resort. It’s what they would do to me.

“Do I get the week still?”

“No, you go out tomorrow,” he replied. “I wish it were longer so that we could ….”

“It’s alright,” I smiled, then I became bold, one final time. “Would you stay with me tonight?”

He looked down the beach to where the two men were, now joined by a third, the young woman. Gently, he touched my cheek and kissed me. All I wanted was to be in his arms for the few hours I had left there. Afterwards, they would take the memory of him from my mind, and I would lose him. But to keep him and the others safe, maybe it was worth that sacrifice. We ended up in my bungalow and made love in a way that I would have remembered for the rest of my life, except I didn’t. The last thing I did before I fell asleep was cry in his arms as he consoled me with soft words and kisses.

🧳 🛫

“I have never been so humiliated in my life,” I said to Antoine as he waited for me to finish packing. “I paid for a week and just because I got drunk, you’re kicking me out?”

“Yup,” he answered. “You were offensive to the guests and the staff, and we just don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour at our resort. I have radioed our lawyer to tell your publisher that any article produced by you will be considered libellous. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s time for you to go.”

I was furious but what choice did I have. It was written in the booking contract that any unsavoury behaviour by the guest was grounds for immediate cancellation of the booking. It also meant my writing career was pretty finished. No one would ask me to write for them, knowing this happened. Somehow, I kept my tongue as Antoine transported me to the dock. Unlike my arrival there was no one waiting for the ride back to the resort. There was Jake, however, with Kelly and Curtis waiting to see me off in my disgrace.

“Assholes, all of them,” I thought.

I grabbed my suitcase and began the walk of shame towards the seaplane where Jerry was waiting. To his credit he said nothing then nor for the entire flight back to Nassau. I went straight to the airport there and flew back to New York, where a message awaited me on my email to say the contract for the travel piece was cancelled and good luck in finding another publisher. They also told me I was lucky they weren’t going to sue me for the non-refundable cost of the resort stay.

Over the next few months, I worked at a Trader Joe’s. It paid the bills and gradually I got over the humiliation of losing my credibility as a writer when word came out that the perpetrators of a 10-million-dollar commission scam that had been making the email rounds were finally behind bars. Apparently, they were part of a terrorist group looking for Bucky Barnes, hoping to turn him back into the Winter Soldier. I couldn’t believe someone would stoop that low to find the man. He deserved to live the rest of his life in peace. There were more rumours about him, a sighting in Tasmania, then another as a crew member on an African safari, but gradually the rumours died down and for several more months there was nothing heard about him.

One day, while I was stocking the shelves at work, I was interrupted by a woman looking for a product. I helped her then realized she was Pepper Stark, blurting her name out then apologizing for saying it.

“That’s alright, Maya,” she said, looking at my name tag. “You’ve been very helpful. Do you like working here?”

I shrugged. “It pays the bills but it’s just a job,” I replied. “I was a writer, but I crossed a line and lost any chance to go further in that field. I regret that now that I’m a little older and wiser.”

She smiled sympathetically at me. “Well, there’s an entry level position at Stark Industries,” she said. “I liked how you helped me today and I don’t mind giving people second chances. Here’s my card. Call the number and set up an interview. Maybe I can help you get out of this job and into something more satisfying.”

I was genuinely surprised and thanked her, calling the number the next day. With an interview set for the next week I was excited at the prospect of something meaningful finally happening for me after my penance. When the day came, I was brought into a conference room with Pepper and several other people. They were all pleasant and asked me all sorts of questions about privacy and respect for boundaries. Everything seemed great then one of them said something strange to me.

“проснуться,” said a man, who repeated it in English. “Wake up.”

I looked around, knowing where I was but realizing that the last six or so months had happened as if I had been somewhere else, watching.

“What’s going on?” I asked Pepper.

The man who spoke smiled and pressed his hand to the side of his face, peeling it off, to reveal Bucky underneath.

As I cried out his name, he opened his arms and I fell into them, almost knocking the chair over.

“It worked, didn’t it?” I exclaimed. “You found them, found the ones who were looking for you.”

“We found them,” he said. “Just had to make sure we found all of them.” He caressed my face, taking all of it in as he gazed at me. “The plans for the machine are still out there so I have to stay hidden. I thought that you ….”

“Yes,” I cried. “Oh God yes. I’ll go with you anywhere. Just don’t take my memories again. I want to remember everything we do, because I don’t plan on ever leaving your side.”

He looked at both Tony and Clint, who had also taken their masks off. “Told you she was the one.”

“Alright,” said Tony, taking charge. “Pepper, you’ll take care of clearing out Maya’s apartment and getting her things to the new location? She won’t need anything for winter anymore. Bucky, you’re in charge of teaching her what she needs to know about living in hiding, including self-defence. She has to be ready to defend herself if they ever come looking again. Maya, welcome to the rest of your life but don’t forget to phone Trader Joe’s and quit.”

The other two men put their masks back on and left the conference room with Pepper while Bucky and I stayed there.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just knew I didn’t want to go without you. It will be warm; I can promise you that. Tony will have a lab to work in. If you want to write under a pseudonym, he’ll build you an office, and will line up a publisher. I’ll mix drinks, cook some meals, maybe raise some goats if the land is right. I did it in Wakanda and enjoyed it. Just so long as we’re together. I missed you.”

He kissed me again, just like he did on the beach of Lunatum Island, which I found out was Latin for crescent. With that first kiss I knew I was with the right man and went along with the plan to remove my memories, keeping me safe. This kiss in the boardroom confirmed it. There would be a life to live with this incredibly wonderful man; a life of peace and quiet that he craved and deserved. Like the Avengers, I would do my part to keep him safe from those who would exploit him. It was a lifetime commitment, but it would be a lifetime with Bucky and that was worth everything.

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the other sarcophagus ✧ steven grant, marc spector, & jake lockley

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request: I’m back and I have another request!😅 So, the reader somehow ends up in the Duat with Marc and Steven in Ep. 5 and maybe she opens the third sarcophagus??? Idk, I just really want Jake to be revealed early. Marc and Steven x fem!reader (and maybe a little Jake x fem!reader) - moon-dune29

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader x marc spector x jake lockley

summary: you can’t help yourself when you see the other sarcophagus. 

word count: 1,487

warnings?: mention of being shot, mention of dying, pet name (love/baby/princess), not proofread

You were confused when you saw a man who looked strangely like Harrow sitting across from you. Except, he didn’t look quite like Harrow. His hair was slicked back, he had some silly little mustache. Why did he have a mustache? And was he saying something? His lips were moving, but everything was muffled, like cotton balls had been shoved into your hears. 

There was a voice coming from beside you. It was slow and slurred, but it sounded familiar. You managed to turn your head, seeing Marc beside you. You were fairly sure it was Marc. You couldn’t hear an accent, but you weren’t quite sure you would know an accent if you heard one. Your mind felt fuzzy. Had they drugged you?

Then you heard him— 

“You shot us,” Marc said, his breathing slightly shaking. Shot him? Shot you? What was he—

Oh god. Harrow had shot you!

“You shot us,” you repeated, looking at Harrow with wild eyes as Marc looked back at the door. 

“Marc? Y/N?”” Harrow said. “Hey. Hey now. If we can’t calmly sit here—”

Marc stood, turning to make a run for it, but his legs quickly gave out. It felt like your body had a mind of its own as you pushed yourself out of your seat, moving slower than your husband, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and trying to help tug him back up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door

“—and take inventory of your feelings…Marc, Y/N,” Harrow continued, rising up from his desk, slowly walking to the two of you. “listen to me—”

“STAY AWAY FROM US!” Marc shouted.

“Truly, I understand how you’re feeling. I, too, have suffered from mental illness, breaks in psychic awareness, manic episodes, followed by depression. I know what you’re feeling. I know you can be healed.”

The two of you reached the door, Marc grabbing for the door knob. He jiggled it, but it wouldn’t budge. He shouted at Harrow to unlock the door, but you acted faster. You slammed your elbow into the glass window, shattering it, trying to reach to the other side to open the knob from that side. 

“Stay away from us!” Marc repeated, his voice more desperate. 

You got the door to open, and the two of you pushed your way through, only to be stopped by a couple of people in scrubs. Were these…Were these the people who arrested Steven at his flat? What the hell was happening? How were they…wherever the hell you and Marc were? 

Harrow shouted at them not to hurt the two of you as they struggled to restrain you both. But that didn’t stop you from biting the woman who was holding your arms back before dashing out into the hall, Marc hot on your heels. He grabbed you by the hand, quickly taking the lead, and ducked into an empty room. 

Except…It wasn’t empty. There was a sarcophagus in it and it sounded like…Was that Steven? You and Marc exchanged a look before pushing the heavy lid off. Steven’s eyes were wild as he practically jumped out of his small prison. 

“Steven!” you shouted, throwing your arms around his neck, holding him close to you. 

“It’s okay, love, I’m here—” Steven said. But he cut himself off, shouting, “MARC?!”

“Steven!” Marc shouted back, throwing himself into the hug, squishing you between the two bodies. 

But, quickly, Steven pulled away as he realized the strangeness of the situation. “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” Marc said. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Harrow…shot us…” Steven said. He whipped his head around, looking at you. “He shot you, too! Oh, I oughta bloody kill ‘im for that!”

“Yes!” Marc said, his voice echoing off the walls. “Yes, exactly! Exactly! Alright. We gotta get out of here. Follow me. Come on.”

Marc walked into the hall, the coast now clear, creeping slowly down the hall, Steven and you following close behind. You didn’t understand what was happening. Were you actually dead? The last thing you remembered, too, was being shot…And death seemed like the only option to explain how Steven and Marc were now separated…But what about Harrow—how was he here? How did that make any sense?

Marc passed by a room with an open door. In it was another sarcophagus. He started to walk past it, deeming it unimportant. But, it intrigued you. You stopped in front of the open door, looking at the sarcophagus. Why was there a third? Could that…Could that explain why Steven and Marc had been having blackouts recently, where they both swore that they hadn’t been fronting? Could there be a third alter? 

“Wait, we should open this one,” you said, stepping closer. 

Steven grabbed at your hand, halting you. Marc came back, shaking his head. Marc said, “Baby, no. We don’t know what that is—”

“But what if whoever’s inside is important? We can’t just leave them!”

“Or they’re a psycho killer!” Steven argued. “Let’s listen to Marc on this one.”

“I—no. I can’t. I just need to see—” You pulled your hand free from Steven’s hold, dodging Marc’s attempt to hold you back. You just needed to see. 

Pushing back the lid, you jumped back as a person stumbled out. A person…who looked exactly like Marc and Steven, except just a little different. His eyes were wild, in a different way than Steven’s was when he got out of his sarcophagus. No. his were more…desperate? Was that the right word? And he had a bandage over his nose, specks of blood caked on his face. Was he hurt? 

“Woah, woah, woah,” you said, putting your hands up, his chest hitting them as he tried to run. “Who are you?” You looked back at Steven and Marc. “Did you know there was a third?”

“They didn’t,” the man said. You looked back at him. “I’m Jake, princess, and I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Harrow for this shit.”

You made sure to stay in front of him, your arms out to grab him in case he tried to run. “Nuh uh, we’re sticking together right now. And our mission is to find a way out of this hell hole.”

He blinked slowly, peering at you almost like a cat who was meeting someone new for the first time. “Princess…What are you doing here? Were you hurt?”

“Harrow, he, uh, shot me, too. I guess that’s why we’re all here,” you said. “I’m fine, though. A little loopy. They gave Marc and I some strong sedatives, I guess. We’ve mostly shook them off. But, uh, c’mon, we should go find a way out before they find us again.”

Marc grabbed your arm, tugging you back behind him. “No way. He’s not coming with us. We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“Of course you can trust me! I’m the one who’s been keeping us alive!” Jake protested. 

“Fat lot of good that did, didn’t it?” Steven muttered. “Look where we all are—some bloody mental hospital because we all got shot!”

Jake’s eyes narrowed at Steven. “Listen, buddy, I don’t appreciate that—”

“Don’t fight!” you cut in, positioning yourself so you stood between all three of them. “We can figure this out later, okay? Now is not the time.”

Marc spoke first. “Do you promise to not do anything stupid?”

“I would never do anything that would hurt us or our princess,” Jake said. He looked to you, his eyes softening. “I promise. I know you don’t know me like you know them but…I care about your safety.”

“I believe you,” you said. “I trust you.”

“Well, if we’re all gonna trust the new guy, I guess I will, too,” Steven grumbled. 

“Great. Now, let’s get this show back on the road,” Marc said. 

The four of you began walking down the hall again, looking for an exit. Jake stayed close to you, standing on one side of you while Steven was on the other. It was strange, how you felt you could trust him. Was it just because he was another alter? Or was it just his presence in general? You caught yourself looking at him more than you did potential exit strategies, trying to figure him out. 

But then—

The doors at the end of the hall swung open. Fear panged in your chest, terrified that Harrow or one of his goons had come to off all of you. But…Instead, there was a…hippo lady?

“Hi!” she greeted, raising her hand to wave. 

And all you could focus on was the boys’ terrified screams, Marc throwing his arms up as if he was going to start swinging, Steven stumbling backwards, and Jake tugging you behind him as though he were a human shield. 

Great. Could this day get any stranger?

#steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x female reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector x reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x female reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x female reader #starrywrites #starryevermore

[chaoticlicense]

No More Than a Memory: Chapter 03

Chapter Summary: When Skye finds herself at Miles' mercy, bound to a corner of the room she used to share with him, she takes time to reflect on how she ended up there in the first place.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: SFW, Miles Quaritch, Recom Miles Quaritch, Miles Quaritch x OC, Recom Miles Quaritch x OC, Female OC, AFAB OC

AO3

Chapter 03

Previous Chapter

Now—Skye's POV

“You know, if you refuse to cooperate I can take you right back to the scientists and have them extract the information I need by force.”

Miles sits across from Skye while she glares at him with eyes so full of fiery rage that he can almost feel their heat. She says nothing. There are no words that she could speak that would satisfy him. She knows what he wants. Information about Jake Sully, his family, and the rest of the Omatikaya people for their part in the recent uprising. He wants her to betray the very people who took her in after her human death. 

When Eywa accepted her and transferred her consciousness into her Avatar body, so did the Omatikaya. And though she never became one of the people officially the way Jake did, she found a new family in them. To Jake and Neytiri, a sister. To their children, a godmother. To Spider, a mother in place of the one who brought him into this world.

And now, the man she once called her lover has returned from the dead to ask her to turn her back on them for something as trivial as her life. 

She won’t.

She refuses.

The recombinant comes in three times a day over the following week or so like clockwork to interrogate her. At least, that’s what she assumes he comes in for. Not much interrogating happens when he arrives since all he does is ask her the same questions repeatedly and she answers him with silence. 

“Where is Jake Sully?” he would ask.

She says nothing.

“Where is he hiding?” He crouches down in front of her and rests his arms on his thighs. “Come on. I can’t help you if you refuse to cooperate.”

Again, nothing. Nothing but the occasional hiss when he tries to move close to her. 

Miles keeps her tied up, bound to a corner of the room they used to share. She didn’t question why he brought her here instead of one of the cells. She doesn't care. It may not have been a real prison cell but it may as well be. Miles said it was better this way. Better to keep her out from under the watchful eyes of General Ardmore and the rest of Bridgehead. Better to keep her to himself. Better to protect her after the first failed attempt at extracting information from her.

But it doesn’t matter what he says or what he does in the name of protecting her and whatever he thinks they used to have together. She won’t give in to his demands. Miles knows this too. He threatens her with experimentation and torture but she sees right through him. Skye knows his threats are empty, meaningless. He cares far too much to let them hurt her. Even if he is not the same man as the one she used to know, she knows the memories of her are enough for him to hold onto. 

Try as he might to play the loyal soldier, there are moments over the following week when she catches him slipping. Soft looks in her direction when he leaves; a smile as he hands her a tray of food (which she always leaves untouched); a twitch of his fingers as he resists the urge to reach out and touch her. 

She doesn't know it but there is a part of him that is more than his memories of his old self, a part of him that is new, curious, and eager to find his way back to her. To do right by her. The more time he spends with her, as irritated as he is from Skye’s lack of cooperation, he seems unable to avoid softening towards her. What memories he holds of her, while not exactly his own, make him yearn for her in a way he can’t explain. So much so that he touched himself to the very thought of her only days past (and more than once since then).

But even if she knew this, even if he were to tell her everything, none of it matters. It can’t be allowed to matter…

It takes everything she has not to cave, not to give in to the feelings that linger beneath the anger. Feelings that have lingered for nearly twenty years since his death—and hers. Feelings that bubble up every time he walks into the room. Skye fights hard against herself, steeling her heart against him with a glare. 

And all he does is shake his head and smile while he crouches down in front of her. His ears flicker, eyes curious as she bares her teeth to him. 

“None of that, sweetheart,” he says.

Her heart skips. 

Sweetheart. She hasn't heard that pet name since before…

No. No, don’t let him get to you, Skye. 

She can’t afford to let him in, not after she so easily made the mistake of getting herself captured. 

She had been hunting alone when she came across the squad. Hunting had become her way of supporting the clan while taking some time for herself when the world became too much. It took her mind off of the past, off the life she used to lead when she was still human. When she saw the squad of Recoms, she let her guard down. Their sudden appearance took her by surprise, more so when she realised that she recognised each one of their faces. But it was Miles who stopped her in her tracks. Seeing him in his Avatar form for the first time caused the grip on her spear to slacken as old memories overwhelmed her.

Hatred, pain, rage…love. All followed by confusion when she laid eyes on him. She crouched down behind a nearby bush, spear in hand. That confusion was quickly replaced with terror when she saw the kids at the mercy of these…duplicates. Why they were out by the old shack she didn’t know, but when she saw the way the Recoms manhandled them, why no longer mattered. 

The only thing that did matter was that she protected them.

She pushed aside her grief over seeing the man she loved come back to life and spurred into action. With the spear in hand, she threw it between the bushes where she remained hidden. It flew through the leaves and landed with a hard thud in the chest of one of the Recoms. The man was thrown backwards by the impact of it. He landed with a crash against the trees. The sound drew the attention of the others. 

The kids eyed her spear and their ears perked up with recognition. Staying low, she crept through the trees as a couple of Recoms moved to where she had thrown her spear. She managed to take them down in silence, choking the air from them and gently lowering their bodies to the ground. When they didn’t return, Miles gave the order for the last of his squad to go in search of them. It wasn’t until only Miles and Lyle remained that she made herself known.

Creeping through the shade of the woods, she went for her spear. Miles and Lyle raised their guns at her. Their ears flattened against their heads as she grabbed her weapon and stepped in front of the kids. She half expected them to shoot her on sight but their eyes went to the chain around her neck.

“Holy shit…Skye?” Lyle asked in disbelief.

Miles said nothing. He kept his focus on her, eyes on her face and the hand that held the spear. He followed Skye’s every movement as she crouched and pointed her weapon at him. The way he looked at her sent her heart racing but she fought against it. Instead, shed stared him down with wide eyes and teeth bared.

His ears twitched a little as Lyle took a step forward. 

“Stay put, Corporal,” Miles commanded.

Lyle did as he was asked and made no further movement. 

“Put down the spear.” 

He brought one hand up and held it out to her to show that he meant her no harm. She didn’t know what he was thinking when he slowly started to lower his gun and took a step forward. Skye growled. He paused. He looked her in the eye only a few feet away and everything inside of her threatened to burst. What anger had bubbled up over his actions towards the kids turned to anger over what he did to her many years ago. 

Everything felt the same, even looked the same as it did then. 

It was like deja-vu with the way she positioned herself to defend those she loved against the man who threatened to take them from her. Only this time she had more to lose and she was not prepared to let Miles be the one to take it from her all over again. 

So, without thinking, she lunged at him. 

Lyle made to stop her as she tackled his superior to the ground but Miles barked an order amidst her attempts to attack him. The two of them fought for dominance until she gained the upper hand and straddled him with her spear pointed at his chest. With a low hiss and a warning growl, she stared him down once more.

“Sir!”

“It’s all right, Corporal. She won’t do anything.”

“Try me,” she spat. “You should be dead for what you did to them…to me.”

Miles chuckled nervously, chest heaving as the point of her spear threatened to pierce him. 

“You’re right…I should be. So go ahead, do it.” 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to do it no matter how badly she wanted to. Everything in her instincts told her to get it over with. To pierce his flesh and watch the life leave his body the way it did fifteen years ago when Neytiri’s arrows did the very same thing. But she was too overcome with her feelings to decide at the moment. 

The rest is a blur after that. 

Lyle came up behind her and hit the back of her head with his gun. It didn’t knock her out completely but stunned her long enough for him and Miles to cuff her. She remembers voices shouting, gunfire, and being lifted into the air on Lyle’s back. And before she knew it, she awakened in a strangely familiar place.

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All written content belongs to ©chaoticlicense // you do not have permission to use any of my works // do not repost or modify/edit // all content is written for adults by an adult // any characters unless stated otherwise, belong to their rightful owners // Skye Miller is my OC and all rights to her character belongs to me.

#chaos writes #chaotic writing #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #recombinant miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #fanfiction #miles quaritch fanfiction #miles quaritch x oc #miles x oc #quaritch x oc #sfw #no more than a memory #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water fanfiction

[ohtobeleah]

Roll of the Dice // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: ‘Echoes’

Summary: When Rooster makes a snarky remark that should have never left his mouth—everyone who knew, for a brief moment in time, Is brought back to the moment where Jake Seresin lost his one and only wingwoman.

Warnings: Angst! Graphic Mentions of injuries sustained from a fighter jet accident. Loss of life, reader x Jake Seresin WHUMP!

Word Count: 3.8k

Author Note: Damn, I dunno where all this shit is coming from but these ones shots & little two parters are clogging my brain so I thought it best to get them on paper once and for all.

Series Masterlist

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.” Bradley Bradshaw had a few regrets he’d managed to tally up in his thirty eight years on earth—but letting such a harsh truth slip past his slightly chapped lips when he knew the seriousness of the situation playing out before him wasn’t all that deep, was definitely on top of his list.

“Oof“ Jake could hear Fanboy chuckle from behind him as he leaned over to take his shot at pool. For a moment those around him wondered if he’d falter, slip and miss under the weight of Roosters insult. But Jake never faltered in front of his peers in such a public manner. No—he simply took a deep breath and sunk his shot. 

Fanboy hadn’t known of Jake before stepping foot into the Hard Deck fifteen or so minutes ago, nor did he know how serious Bradley Bradshaw's accusation had truly been. How hard it hit on a personal level. Bob Floyd, the one who should have been a stealth pilot in Jakes eyes, stood smirking beside his new colleague. The two Weapons Systems Officers instantly bonding over their respective roles—Coyote and Phoenix though? they knew. They knew just how deep Roosters jab had truly cut and the fact he could never take it back would follow the moustache wearing aviator to his own grave. 

Rooster expected Jake to turn to stone at the venom he spat, if anything at the very least Rooster wouldn't have been surprised if Jake Seresin fell to his knees like the night he did when he’d heard the news you hadn’t made it through the night. But to much surprise his dog shot insult had washed over the cocky superficial as all hell aviator like water rolling off a duck's back. Remaining unphased and staying poised, Jake stood with a smug smile. He took calculated strides towards Bradley as he pulled his lips into a cruel smirk. Sitting on the edge of the pool table with his chest puffed and his blood boiling.

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna run out of fuel—“. Jake wore an egomaniacal bravado incredibly well–but Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote all knew he hadn’t always been this way. “But that’s just you, ain’t it Rooster.” He just hadn’t been the same since he lost you. “You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment—” Rooster knew deep down that Jake wasn't talking to him right now. He knew that the man who stood before him with his shoulder squared and his thousand-watt smirk was channeling some deeper repressed emotion he never got to properly work through. Turning into a version of himself he didn't know as a coping mechanism, loss, grief, heartache consuming him fully—turning him into someone completely different to the man you knew him to be. The man he was. The man he wanted to be beside you every day and every night. But that didn’t matter because you weren’t around to see how far he’d fallen into the character he developed to protect himself from the world that was so fucking cruel. It took no prisoners, it played no favorites. “That never comes.”

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. It burned his skin, the all too familiar sensation like jet fuel landing on exposed flesh. Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Drowning out his surroundings Jake couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. He carried on his night in autopilot as the former and less heartbroken version of himself screamed and clawed and tried to beat against his chest over his heart to no avail. Jake wasn’t letting him out—no. He couldn’t, not when you weren’t here. No one left on earth was worthy of who he truly could be. When you left? Jake swore you took everything with you, all the good he could and wanted to be. Without you? His better half, his soulmate, his best friend, he was simply Hangman.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Rooster's voice echoed like a poorly educated Orchestra, everything and everyone around him felt like the hands of time had slowed them down so he could revel in every passing second. A longer eternity away from your warm embrace. The one he’d worked so hard to earn. The love he lost. That his body ached for since you left.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. Jake brought a round of beers blindly, going through the motions, he razed Phoenix up a little more about her being here, he beat Coyote in three games of pool and thought it was ridiculous just how many people turned their attention to Rooster when he played Great Balls Of Fire. He hated the fact he knew you’d be the one sitting next to him—singing your heart out because you knew how to party and party hard.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. He helped Coyote throw some guy from the bar—said a witty little remark before saluting and slamming the door. Jake knew you’d kick his ass for it if you had seen him act so differently to the Jake Seresin you knew. But with every slow, overwhelming moment Jake couldn’t shake the comment Rooster had made. Couldn’t rid you from his mind although he tried so hard to keep you locked in a box deep inside his cerebellum.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.

When Jake Seresin finished his night at the Hard Deck, he went back to his dorm, locked his door—and stood in complete silence. Stood in the dark of his empty dorm and sighed heavily as the weight of what felt like the entire world crushed his chest.

When he couldn’t breathe he knew it was serious. Dropping to his knees with a sob that would have broken your heart he clutched at his chest and tried to steady himself. A panic attack surging through his veins like a rush of adrenaline his body rejected. The endorphins backfiring, sending his body into overdrive because he couldn’t stop hearing your fucking laugh in his goddamn head. Like a permanent reminder that you were gone but not forgotten. Too far away to talk to, to touch, to see, but never far enough away to not hear. It was cruel. It was a sick joke.

“AAAHHHHH!!” At the top of his lungs like the world wasn’t at a standstill at two in the morning, Jake shouted to the heavens above until his face was bright red, till his eyes stung, till the vein in his neck popped and there was nothing left inside him till the deafening silence once again consumed him.

Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave. He didn’t know how long he had been on the floor of his dorm for either—time must have resolved itself at some point. Suddenly not so slow motion.

“Ay yo—Jake man you good?” Banging his first against Jake's door, Javy frowned his brows with concern after the agony ridden scream coming from his wingman’s dorm ripped through the first floor dorms. Rooster had stood in his doorway watching, but too stubborn to move. He hated himself enough for what he had said—he didn’t need a black eye to remind himself he crossed a line. He knew if there was such a thing as life after death you’d be watching over him with a frown so prominent it would haunt his nightmares. His dad would have smacked him upside the head by now for causing someone this much distress.

“Hangman?” Knocking again only to be met with silence and a locked door, Javy slid down the door, his back pressed against the heavy wood as he took a stab in the dark as to what this was about. “There was nothing on this earth you could have done differently Bro.” He sighed, his head hanging low. “But Dice? She’s gone, she’s been gone for almost six months man.”

Javy would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you every single day. He also knew that with some twisted turn of fate, if you’d never been taken so soon he never would have had the privilege to fly in your honor every day beside Jake. But something he also knew was that dwelling on the past held back whatever bright future was ahead. “Jake I know you’re listening man, so imma say it one more time—.”

Jake couldn’t hear what Javy ended up saying, it was probably something like he couldn’t change the past or that you’d want him to get off the ground out of the heap he’d collapse into. Or something along the lines of there was nothing Jake could have done to protect you or prevent your untimely demise. He didn’t hear anything of it, because all that rang out through his head like an obnoxiously loud gong was:

Hangman, the only place you ever led her was an early grave.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

(North Island — United States Navy Fighter Weapons School, October 16th 2014)

“DIXON!!” Admiral Paynes voice bellowed through the locker room with enough grunt behind it that it had you jumping out of your skin before slamming your hand in the door jam of your locker. Muffling a cry in pain as you held your hand to your chest as it throbbed, turning on your heels to stand to attention, hiding all the fear you felt coursing through your body as the older more authoritarian admiral approached you. His nostrils flaring like saucepans as he held out a deflated whoopee cushion. “You think this is some kind of game?”

“No sir, not at all sir–” You tried your best to look him directly in the eye as you lied through your teeth. Of course it was a game, it was actually a childs gag toy if anything–but you weren’t about to get into an argument with Admiral Nathan ‘Agony’ Payne. “Why are you showing me a whoopee cushion, sir?”

“Someone put it on my chair thismorning–” Fuck. “I thought I’d give you the chance to perhaps enlightening me as to who that might of been before I ask the admin assistance to run the security footage.” You knew you’d been caught red handed. Agony knew no one else would be stupid enough, or ballsy enough for that matter, to pull a stunt like this. However! It was in your DNA. He knew immediately that you had been the culprit of such a crime. Like father, like daughter.

“Dad says Hi.” Was all you muttered out before you dropped your gaze, fuck– as if you wouldn’t think about the security cameras. “He told me to tell you that he’s really pissed you keep flying Jet Blue when he knows you know he flys American Airlines–” There was no response as you dropped your gaze once again to your feet. “Sorry Sir, it won’t happen again sir.” Your father and Admiral Payne had been friends for a few decades, remaining the same even though your dad decided that flying commercially sparked his interest now more than for the Navy. It probably wasn't your finest moment to allow your father to use you as a conduit to get a rise out of his old buddy.

Bradley Bradshaw sat zipping up his flight suit on the bench behind where Admiral Payne had been scolding you. He got an undisturbed front row seat to the seven colours of bad shit you’d gone while taking an absolute scolding from your superior. Chucking softly as he caught your attention for just a few seconds.

“How the fuck did you end up here?” Agony scoffed as he let the whoopee cushion drop into your hand. You’d somehow by the skin of your fucking kneecaps, slid your way into the latest class of TopGun. You still weren't too sure how you got here or what the Navy saw in you–but nevertheless, you were here. “Pull a stunt like this again and I won’t be so inclined to keep you around long enough so you can show me what you're capable of, do I make myself clear?”

“In abundance sir.” You confirmed what he needed to hear in order to let you live, keep the skin on your body. “It won't happen again, sir.” Without so much as a word after, Agony turned with an expression that rivalled one of Jack Nicholson's own. Leaving you to breathe again, since when had you been holding your breath though?

“You fucking idiot–” Bradley cried out in hesterrics as you threw the deflated woopee his way, laughing along with him as you slide down the lockers into a heap on the floor. “As if you’d do that! That Admiral Agony Y/n! You can’t do that type of shit and expect to get away with it, even if dear old pops put you up to it.” Although you had your mothers maiden name and had lived with her for most of your life, you were still Ron ‘Slider’ Kerners flesh and blood. His daughter through and through. A last name didn't prove that, your attitude and wits about you told that story enough.

“I just kinda assumed the whole last name situation would have thrown him off my scent a little.” You and Bradley had known each other for what felt like your entire lives. Not all that close but still, you kept in contact over the years, met at family gatherings until his relationship with Pete Mitchell diminished into nothing. Suddenly Bradley Bradshaw was no longer around, for four years you heard nothing until one day you ran into him in the halls of the Naval Academy. He’d finally made it. Since then though things had been good–you found solace in his ability to overcome adversity and he found joy in the easygoing attitude you wore like a badge of honour. A friendship pure and as platonic as they come.

“Sounds like someone just got a scolding–” Phoenix smirked as she entered the locker room, noticing you on the ground after your near death experience. “I'm assuming you were on the receiving end of that mouthful Dixon?” She beamed, roughing the top of your head as you groaned in response. Still rattled. “You’ll never learn will you?”

“I’m hoping to one day, but no.” Sitting up as you let your legs stretch out, you ran your hands down your face–pulling at the skin as you widened your eyes and smirked at your own idiocy. “Probably not–”

“Who let you in here anyway, Bradshaw? I haven’t seen you since 0 week at Acam?” Natasha teased her long lost lover as she sauntered over to where Bradley sat. “And more importantly whos dick did you have to suck to get a mention?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the way Bradley looked at Natasha Trance, she mimicked it back as she stood between his legs so effortlessly, her hands on his shoulders as Bradleys hands slid up her hips.

“Well the list is certainly long, but highly distinguished.” You could have sat there for hours longing for a love like theirs. Fait always brought them back to one another. Each and every time like they had never left each other's sides, picking up right where they had left their bookmarked chapter.

“What do we have here?” When you turned your head towards the doorway of the locker room, you were met with a man who you could only physically describe at first glance as Coverboy Pretty. With sandy blonde hair and a smile that could most likely light up New York City after dark, he was the embodiment of a ken doll. “Phoenix and Rooster, my oh my, do my eyes deceive me?”

“Get bent Hangman—“ Rooster sneered as Phoenix stepped back from his welcoming embrace, instead opting to fold her arms across your chest and raise a single brow Hangman’s way. The blonde barely turned his attention to Rooster as he caught the sight of you slumped against the lockers on the ground. He’d never seen you before in all his years of active service. There was a gentle glint in your eyes as you took him in, for a moment you could have gotten lost in the green of his eyes, mesmerising as they swirled in all shades. Jake was quick to catch that momentary glint–deciding to chase it further.

“And who might you be?” He pointed with a smirk. “And what are you doing on the ground like that?”

“That’s Dixon—“ Phoenix spoke before you could say something stupid. “She’s mentally and physically recovering from nearly taking the beating of her life from Admiral Payne.” You and Phoenix had been assigned with the strike fighter squadron VFA/-41 Black Aces prior in Lemoore before your summons for Miramar. Rooster however had been stationed out with Hangman with the strike fighter squadron VFA-87 Golden Warriors in Virginia.

“What’d you do to fall on his radar?” The man who’d been standing just behind the blonde who you could only assume was Hangman spoke up finally. He was darker, quite handsome, by all accounts a nice guy–you'd give him the benefit of the doubt until further notice. But you’d never seen either of them before in your career. Never crossed paths, never heard the callsigns.

“I whoopee cushioned his chair, Dad was in the same TopGun class as him back in the day” You explained yourself, with your hands up by your side in defence. “Stupid I know but dad said if I didn’t at least do it once—“

“Wait, who's your dad?” Hangman coaxed the information straight from the source as he stepped closer. “There’s more than one Nepo baby in the class Coyote, my god—what are we gonna do?” Ah, so Hangman and Coyote–did everyone have their call signs except for you? You couldn't possibly be the only person on this goddamn base that didn't have their call sign yet.

“Pfft, please if anything I’m gonna get my ass handed to me the whole time I’m here because of my dad.” You groaned as you stood from your seat on the ground. Dusting your hand off on the normex suit before sticking it out Hangman’s way. “I’m Y/n Dixon, Dads Slider, Ron Kerner.” You explained. “And before you ask, it’s just Dixon—I don’t have a callsign yet.” Jake couldn’t really wrap his head around what he was hearing, how had you not been given a call sign yet? If you were at TopGun level surely you had one–right? To not have a callsign was like seeing a unicorn in the wild. It didn't happen because those things just didn't exist.

“You display a complete lack of personality or something? What’s the go with that?” Taking your hand in his, the blonde introduced himself. Taking your knuckles to his lips. “Jake, Jake Seresin.” You saw Bradley gag from your peripheral vision as Jake kissed your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Callsign to be determined.” Bradley hated the laugh Jake evoked out of you, your smile bright as you felt the flush of heat rise to your cheeks. “But surely your’re fucking with me? You can’t not have a call sign?”

“Well, they always say you shouldn’t ask for one, and I haven’t been given one, so yeah—“ Pulling your hand back, Jake watched as you ducked your head a little and rubbed at the red marks that had started the get a little more aggressive on your hand from where you'd slammed it into your locked not too long ago. “Little bit of a nomad I guess, everyone just calls me Dixon.”

“Dixon huh?” Jake grinned ear to ear as he drank in the sight of you—he couldn’t deny you were a breath of fresh air, he’d never had a female wingman and he was keen to test the waters. “Well it’s nice to meet my new wingwoman.” When Jake had seen his last name posted next to yours. Seresin x Dixon—he assumed he’d be flying with another guy. He’d never had a female wingman.

“What are you talking about?” Bradley stood with a sudden urgency. “How do you know you got Dixon?”

“Listing was posted like an hour ago on the communications board outside the hub.'' Jake said it in a way as if this isn't something you guys shouldn’t have known about. “I was just there.” Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, Jake watched as Phoenix and Rooster barrelled out of the locker room, shoving at each other as they fought to be the first one out the door. Rooster let Phonix go first, of course. Coyote wasn’t too far behind them, he wanted to bear witness to the meltdown Rooster was going to have when he realised Phoenix had been paired with Kenny ‘Plan-B’ Shepard. The call sign had been with him since before his time in the Navy. When women walked into the bar, they knew when they saw this guy, that that was what their “last resort” was.

“So since you're my wingman I guess we should get to know each other?” Turning back to your locker, you grabbed your helmet out. It was simply black. No details or call sign to decorate it with as of yet. Which kinda sucked—but you knew, list most things, time would only tell. “You wanna grab something to eat after the first run? Grab a few beers at the Hard Deck? I could go a couple of rounds if you’re not doing anything.” Jake took the opportunity you’d handed him on a silver platter to rile you up.

“If you’re asking me on a date, I'm gonna need a little bit more effort than that sweetheart.” He beamed back at you as you raised your eyes stunned at his forwarness.

“Oh—I wasn’t.” Immediately jumping to your own defense to correct the course that you thought the conversation was heading. You hadn’t been asking Jake out. “Honest, I just thought that maybe that was the best way to just—“ Jake's laugh echoed through the empty locker room as you rambled, stopping yourself when you noticed he had just been pulling your leg. “Oh, okay so you just assume every girl who gives you the time of day wants to date you? Is that it?”

“Nah, just the real pretty ones with no call signs.” He was falling in love in a millisecond just from the way you caught yourself smiling for a split moment before you had to reel yourself in. Would you be into an autumn wedding? His family's ranch was always the prettiest place on earth in autumn. “Hard Deck, your shout.” He pointed as you stared at him with a raised brow and lips pressed firmly together.

“Oh great.” Rolling your eyes, you pushed past Jake Seresin, you couldn’t think of a worse wingman to want to have to work with. “I can already tell you’re gonna be hard to deal with.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake caught himself smiling softly at the sound of your voice playing out in his head like a symphony as he thought back to the moment he first met you. How beautiful you were, how charismatic.

He sits there for a moment, his hair a mess as he reminisces about your softness, your kindness, your ability to take his breath away in an instant at just a simple smile. Jake catches himself for a split second smirking softly at your memory. His eyes lingering on the photo tapped haphazardly to his mirror. The photo of you and him that would forever travel the globe with him. Cross the seven seas with him. The engagement ring on your ring finger just a tad too big. He never got a chance to get it resized, but regardless it sat snug around his neck—strung between his dog tags.

Pushing him self up off the ground Jake wiped his tears and sighed a heavy sigh. Fixing himself up the best he could before he unlocked his dorm door, opening it to have Coyote falling in as the door disappeared from where his back had been leaning against it.

“I’m fine—“

“You sure?” Javy asked as he stood to his feet in Jakes threshold. He had know his best friend long enough to know by now that the look on his face was the mask someone wore when they were battling their own inner demons. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

But Jake couldn’t talk about it. How could he? When his own mind was as loud as all hell, screaming at him the same thing over and over and over again until he got the message loud and clear:

Hangman, the only place you ever led her was an early grave.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @dempy @abaker74 @a-serene-place-to-be @starkleila @some-lovely-day

#jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader

[jacoboh]

It’s nearly 6 o’clock in the morning, 2 hours since he was arrested and given minimal medical attention despite being stabbed. Maybe he could sue this place once things were over. For denying him proper treatment and for wrongfully accusing him after his girlfriend had just died. 

The Chief takes a seat across from him, and it’s funny. Jake remembers the last time they saw each other was when he was a kid, and he’d been cozying up to his mother at a dinner party. An expression of grief covers Jake’s face, and maybe a part of it is real. He’ll miss Kat, the way she made him feel and their time together something he’d remember. 

The chief speaks, and he reminds himself to stick to the story. 

How do you know Maria Adella Hayag?

“We grew up together, went to college around the same time. She… used to have a crush on me,” Jake lets out a sigh. “Maybe a bit of an obsession. But from everything I’ve heard, she has it with a lot of other guys too. We haven’t talked since she had an argument with my girlfriend..” Another sigh, sad smile painted on his face. “Kat.”

Her crush on you. I take it that it had something to do with what happened tonight?

“Maybe,” Jake says softly. He’s always been so gentle, never the kind to raise his voice. “I just… Kat was missing, and she wasn’t answering her phone, so I went to look for her. That’s when I saw the opened door and her on the floor.”

And what happened after that?

He lets out a shaky breath, sniffling and pretending he’s trying to form the right words to say. “I asked her why. And she told me I was hurting her, that it hurt her that I’d chosen Kat over her. She said that we were meant to be together.” He lets out another sigh, growing quiet because its just so hard to talk about. “I never… I never imagined she would do that. And then when I said I wouldn’t be with her, she got upset again,” he adds, gesturing down to the wounds he’d given himself hours ago. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to kill her, I just reacted.” He wished he’d stabbed her another 10 times for all she’d done.

There was no evidence, he’d been beyond careful. There wasn’t even a footstep that could be traced back to him, and he couldn’t count the amount of evidence he’d burned in the past few months. Adee had let Iris see her face, and she’d let her live without making sure first. He wouldn’t let himself be punished for her mistakes. He wouldn’t be punished because she’d always been far less incompetent than him. 

What about the other victims?

Jake blinks, as if he’s taken aback by the question. He shakes his head, offering the man in front of him who knew him a child a frown. “I don’t know anything about that.” The chief sighed in response, and it was clear that their only real suspect was dead. “Do you think I should call my lawyer?” he asks innocently, framing a look of worry on his face.

The chief stood up, slamming the file he had down on the table before looking at him. Jake took a sip of his water, the police being nothing but gracious to the son of the wealthiest family in town. They didn’t push him, didn’t prod or treat him unfairly, knowing his mother would be standing outside with the best legal team that money could buy. After the chief said they were only officially charging him with the murder of Adee, and that the investigation of everyone else they’d killed would be pending, it took everything in him to not grin, before nodding as he was informed of being moved to a prison outside of Boston per his mother’s request. Good. Jake didn’t have any intentions of sticking around here, because it would take one look into his eyes from someone who really knew him to know all of this was a facade. One look from his siblings to devastate them, and truthfully, he’d rather not deal with either of them breaking down.

As his interrogation comes to an end, Jake maintains the demure look on his face until he's back in holding. It’s then when he smiles, and lets out a chuckle when no one pays attention. Even in this cell, rotting away for the time being, he knows this was the best outcome.

He destroyed his entire life, but for once, at least he was in control of it.

#jacob / paras #so anyway

[topguncortez]

Bad Medicine | Chapter 3

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

word count: 3.2k

Warnings: death/murder, guns, violence, physical abuse, cursing, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, blood, nudity, mentions of drugs, mentions of a brothel, torture, stabbing, burning, gun shots

Jake was never really a fan of the club. He’d much rather go to the rings instead, but like the Joker, he felt the need to show up to his own club. He stood on the second floor, leaning against the railing, looking down at the packed dance floor. He eyed Rooster and his other close friend, Javy from his spot. Javy had some redhead pressed up against him, his hand on her hips, their lips locked, merely seconds away from fucking on the dance floor. Rooster was sandwiched in between a blonde woman and a tall muscular brunette man. Bob stood next to Jake, watching everything. Bob was like a hawk, his eyes searching for the enemy. Jake sometimes wonders if he made a mistake in choosing Rooster for head of security, but Bob had a hard time killing a spider. 

Jake raised his glass of dark bourbon to his lips, “How are things at the house?” He asked Bob. 

“So far silent,” Bob said, “Leo said she took a bath and locked herself in the bedroom. Emile went home for the night. That Payback guy asked if he could stand by since we were gone, and I said that’s okay.” 

“Do we trust him?” 

“No reason not to,” Bob shrugged, “He’d be a fucking idiot to go against Santiago and whisk his daughter off to some place.” 

Jake smirked and nodded. He had only met Gianni Santiago once, and from that brief meeting, he could tell what a sick person he was. Gianni had shown up to a meeting, hands still stained with blood, eyes still wide from the high. He had walked into the boardroom with a woman, bare and on a leash behind him. 

“Dead man fucking walking,” Bob said eyeing a new face on the dance floor. Jake stood up taller, watching as the man in question went over and threw his arm around Isabella, who Jake had been avoiding all night, “He’s on your girl.”

“He can have her,” Jake scoffed, and threw back the rest of his bourbon, “Let him have a little fun first. . . I want him in the Chamber on the pew at midnight.” 

“What about Y/N?” 

“What about her?” Bob opened his mouth like he was going to say something but Jake cut him off, “Business is not going to change just cause some bitch lives in my house now. Gomez, on the pew, at midnight.” 

Bob nodded his head, knowing better than to go against Jake’s order. Out of all of them, Bob still acted as though he was still in the ranks. Jake was his superior officer for all intents and purposes, and Bob was not going to disobey a superior’s order. Jake clapped his friend on the back before looking back over the crowd. His green eyes went back to watching the man, Jeffery Gomez, weasel his way into getting Isabella to dance with him. Isabella flashed a look up at Jake, who sent her a smug smile. Isabella was clueless and would do anything to make Jake jealous, even if that meant grinding up on a man who would be headless by the time the night is over. Bob threw his head back, drinking down the rest of his drink. That was probably the only thing that changed about Bob Floyd, he started drinking. 

“I’ll see you back at the house,” Bob said, patting Jake’s back, “I’ll go let the guys know so they can get ready.”

“Maze?” The maze was one of Rooster’s most prized possessions. He had built it underneath the garden, and could control the pathways with an ipad. Rooster put his prisoners in there and watched as they struggled to try and get out. . .no one ever made it out alive. They either were killed in the maze or died of starvation trying to get out. Sometimes he would make it a quick death, other times he liked to watch them suffer. 

“Nah,” Bob sighed, “I think he might take a page out of Gianni’s book. . . missing junk.”

“Bastard,” Jake smirked and shook his head, “Send me an update about our prisoner when you get home. Make sure she hasn’t flung herself off the balcony or slit her wrists in the tub yet.”

Bob nodded, retreating away with some guards on his footsteps. Jake leaned back over the railing, looking around, spotting a girl staring him up and down. Her tan legs were exposed as she sat on a leather couch. Her deep red manicured nails gently scratched her exposed thigh, and she tilted her head back, giving Jake a show. Jake licked his lips, setting his empty glass down on a ledge and walking over to her. Her friends squealed as Jake got close. He held his hand out to her, and she looked at her friends with a smile, before pushing up off her seat and following him. 

“Where are we going?” She asked him innocently. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake answered. He walked downstairs, her hand never leaving his. Jake pushed his way through the crowd, which really wasn’t that hard as everyone seemed to part like Moses and the Red Sea. Jake made his way over to Rooster, who was now kissing the blonde girl, while the man behind him kissed up and down his neck, “Hey, we got shit to do. The orgy can wait.” 

Rooster lifted his head up and Jake nodded his head to where he had spotted Jeffery earlier, “Ah, Jefe has entered the building?” 

“Falling into the fucking venus fly trap,” Jake said. 

“Gross man,” Rooster said, scrunching up his face in disgust. He kissed the blonde one more time, before detangling from the two of them, “Pretty sure Coyote went down to the lounges.” 

“And you’re calling me gross?” Jake joked. Rooster just shook his head and followed Jake down towards the private longues, “Oh this is. . . “ 

“Lily,” The girl answered. 

“I don’t like it. . . Cherry,” Jake said and the girl nodded. 

“You check her age?” Rooster whispered. 

“Does it matter?” Jake asked and then turned to the girl, “You’ll be a good girl for me, right?” The girl nodded wordlessly and Jake smirked. He walked over to the closed door of one of the private rooms, “Wrap that shit up kids, we got work.” Jake yelled knocking on the door. He could hear Javy groan and laughed at his friend telling whatever girl he was with to get off of him. 

“Couldn’t fucking wait?” Javy asked, opening the door half naked.

“I’ll let you blow your load all over Gomez’s face. Now come on,” Jake said and winked at the redhead who was behind Javy, “You,” Jake said turning to Cherry. He grabbed her face and placed a rough kiss on her lips, “Go with them.” 

“B-but I thought-” 

“No, you didn’t think anything,” He grabbed the girl's chin and looked into her blue eyes, “Do as you're told, go with them,” Jake demanded and the girl cowered away. Javy wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to follow him, “Fucking women. They don’t make them like they used to.” 

“Aimless housewives?” Rooster asked. 

“Yeah. They all seem to have something to say now.” 

“Well, hate to break it to ya, don’t think your wife is going to listen much either,” Rooster said, patting his friends back before heading towards the SUV. 

“She’ll learn,” Jake muttered to himself, fixing his collar and walking towards the dark alley behind the club. Their driver was waiting for them, and opened the door for Jake to get in. He was thankful that they made the exit swiftly, he had enough of the paparazzi snapping pictures of him leaving the clubs with women lately. Bob sent Jake a text letting them now that Gomez had been captured and they were working on bringing him back to the compound. Jake locked his phone and made eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror and nodded. 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

The night sky in San Diego was foggy, and cloud covered. Y/N looked up at the sky as she lounged in the infinity pool. She had snuck out of her room past her guards, leaving a trail of clothes in case they completely started shitting their pants at her disappearance. The water was cool as it relaxed her, but so did the wine she drank too. She had already been missing the Italian night sky, being able to see the constellations from her balcony. 

Y/N pushed off the ledge she was leaning against, and floated in the middle of the pool on her back. The night air was cool, and left goose bumps over her naked body. Her eyes searched for the different constellations in the sky, easily being able to point out Scorpius, her favorite one. She could remember the story of the cluster of stars from hearing her mother tell it over and over. 

She took a big breath and pushed herself underwater, letting her body float softly towards the bottom. She felt her back hit the bottom of the pool, she opened her eyes, seeing the distorted picture above her of the night sky. Y/N could feel her lungs and eyes start to burn as she counted the seconds that passed by. The burning of the chlorine was slightly inviting as she relaxed into the water, feeling her body being gently tugged by the water. 

She expelled all the air from her lungs, watching as the air bubbles floated to the surface. It was quiet, the only sound was the small buzz in her ears. The pounding in her head increased, so she pushed herself off the bottom and broke through the surface. She took a deep breath of fresh air, slicking her wet locks behind her. The night air was chilly, and sent goosebumps down her spine. Y/N dove back underwater quickly, when she broke the surface she was facing the back entrance to the house, and now noticed more lights on in the house. 

Swimming herself over to the side of the pool, she pushed herself out and grabbed her towel, drying her naked form off. She quickly slid on her robe and tied her wet hair in a bun. She grabbed the remnants of the wine bottle and glass, moving quickly back into the house. She didn’t want to piss off Jake or any of the boys. She hardly had any real interaction with the boys besides Jake, but she could see the same look in Rooster’s eyes that was in Gianni’s, wild and electric. There always had to be one torturer in the group. Y/N rinsed out her wine glass and corked the bottle putting it away. 

She was about to run back up the stairs when she heard a shrill scream. Her conscience told her to keep going up the stairs, but something in her told her to move towards the sound. She cursed herself, as her bare feet moved back down the glass staircase and towards the sounds of screaming. Y/N hadn’t really explored the house yet, so she was going off intuition and sound. Her feet brought her to a door that sat opposite of the office she was in earlier. She gently pushed the door open and found a single dark staircase that descended into more darkness. 

“You’re a real dumbass, Santiago,” Y/N whispered to herself as she quietly walked down wooden stairs. This part of the house must be part of the original. She had found the articual layout in a box in Jake’s office. She didn’t mean to find it. . . well, yes she did mean to find it. Most mobsters were paranoid, and she knew that there had to be tunnels or paths under the house, and she was right. There was a tunnel that led from Jake’s office to a train station. 

She walked as carefully and quietly as she could, but it was easy to move with the growing whimpers and screams from the basement. The basement looked like most did in slasher films and horror movies. It was dark, light by a couple bright light bulbs. It smelled of dirt and blood, and Y/N could see old blood splatters on the floor. There was also a wooden church bench in the middle of the room, which is what she assumed Jake meant when he said “the pew” earlier. She let out a gasp as she reached a level where she could see them, and some poor soul chained up by his wrists, dangling in front of them. 

Rooster was holding a lighter to the man’s skin, letting it sizzle. The smirk on his face made Y/N’s stomach churn, Rooster was enjoying what he was doing. The chained up man’s body was covered in burns, bruises and fresh scars, more than likely from Rooster. His once soft, inviting brown eyes were dark and cold. His body language was different, his frame seeming larger as he inflicted pain upon the man. 

Rooster removed the lighter from the man’s skin, setting it down, only to pick up a knife and run the blade down the freshly charred skin. The chained man let out a loud sob, as Jake held his hand up to stop Rooster. Jake stood with his arms crossed, eyeing the man chained in front of him. There was a man with gorgeous tan skin standing next to Jake, who had the same expression on his face, unreadable and ready to kill. Bob was the one who noticed Y/N, sending her a warning look and motioning softly for her to go back up the stairs before Jake noticed. Y/N shook her head, fear freezing her brain from making rational choices. 

“I’m going to ask you again,” Jake said, stepping forward. He held his hand out and Rooster placed a knife in his hand. Jake twirled the knife over in his hand, walking up to the chained man, “Who gave you the order to rough up one of my whores?” 

“N-No one!” The man yelled. Jake’s face rose into a sinister smirk as he took the knife and dug it straight into the man’s scrotum. The man yelled in pain, loud enough to make the walls vibrate. Bob turned his head, and looked at his shoes, while Rooster couldn’t hold back a small chuckle. Y/N couldn’t help but let out a small scream, covering her mouth quickly. 

Jake snapped his head over to the staircase. If his eyes weren’t ready to kill they certainly were now. Jake didn’t even say anything, but Y/N started walking over to him. Jake grabbed her body, pulling it flush against him, holding the same knife he just used against her throat. Jake ghosted his lips over her ear. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the cool metal against her skin, and the drip of the chained man’s blood ran down her throat. 

“You tell me, or I'll slit her throat right here,” Jake said. His voice had seemed to drop an octave, sounding more intimidating. The unknown man, Bob and Rooster all shared a look, not sure of what Jake’s motive was. They all knew they couldn’t kill Y/N, as much as Jake probably wanted to, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t rough her up a bit to teach her a lesson. 

“Jake, just let her go-” Bob said, taking a step forward but Jake pressed the knife into her skin, making her let out a gasp. 

“Oh no, she decided to come down here and intervene. If this fucker,” Jake nodded towards the chained man, “Really values women as much as he claims too then he won’t let me kill her. So. . . who gave you the order!” His voice was loud and it made Y/N jump in his arms. He could feel her body start to tremble. 

“I said, I don’t know!” The man yelled, “Let me go! Let her go! Please!” 

Jake pressed the knife down harder, and Y/N gasped feeling the crushing weight of it. She felt her breathing becoming restricted and did her best to not move. Jake wrapped his hand tighter around her midsection to keep her standing. The blade made a slight cut against her tan skin, and she prayed that the poor bastard would confess before she ended up on the ground bleeding out. 

“Tell me!” Jake yelled, the veins in his throat popping out, “I swear to fucking god, I’ll kill her.” 

The unknown man moved next to Y/N, holding a gun against her temple, “We’re not fucking joking.” 

‘So much for possibly having an ally’ she thought to herself. 

Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely. She had always been smart to stay away from Gianni’s torture room. It had taken years of therapy to get over what she had seen him do to Francisco and her own trauma she endured. She felt her body shaking in Jake’s grasp, as her breathing came few and far between. She felt like her body would collapse in dead weight if it wasn’t for Jake’s harsh grip on her body keeping her upright. 

“I-I don’t-” The man started as the unknown man cocked the gun, pulling a round into the chamber. He pressed it firmly against her head, as if he was trying to push the barrel into her skin, “F-Fine! It was Soto, Dante Soto! He wanted to get you back for cutting his gun stock and I-” 

The man couldn’t finish his sentence as the unknown man shot him in the head. Y/N screamed at the sound. Jake let her go and she collapsed on the ground. Bob moved over to help her, grabbing her arm to lift her up, but Jake held his hand up to stop him. 

“Leave her,” He said, wiping off his knife and setting it back on the table. 

“Jake-” 

“I said, leave her!” Jake yelled again and Bob stepped back from Y/N, “The whore’s gotta learn somehow. Get some guys to clean this shit up. Deliver him on Soto’s front door. Leave a nice little note too.” 

All four of them walked past Y/N as she pulled herself into the fetal position and cried. Jake watched her as she sobbed onto the ground, and smirked. He squatted down by her body and ran his hand over her back. The gesture would usually bring comfort to one person, but Y/N felt nothing but fear in it. Her body trembled as she pulled her knees closer to her chest. The smell of blood was starting to make her head spin. 

"You're gonna learn not to disobey me someday," Jake whispered to her. He pushed himself off from his squatting position, fixed his suit jacket before walking out of the chamber.

She heard the door slam shut and she couldn’t move. It was like she was reliving her worst nightmare all over again. Francisco was holding her to the ground, repeatedly punching her, kicking her, choking her until there were spots in her vision. Y/N let out a scream that echoed off the walls but fell on deaf ears.

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