#car classified theme

[muntitled]

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

[dragonridernoobie]

Hi again!

May I ask you to write,when reader comes to the Autobot base/ship Nemesis with a black eye and refuses to explaint how she got it?

I tried my best and added some of my own stuff in this.

🚫Sensitive Themes🚫

TransformersPrimeXHurtReader

Autobots

Optimus

Optimus will be picking up reader from school/work.

He would noticed reader having a black eye.

He would ask what happened and if reader was OK.

Reader will just shrug him off and say they dident want to talk about it.

Optimus will accept their wishes but will worry about them.

If he sees reader continue being hurt he will have enough.

He will park on the edge of the road and not let reader go intel he he knows what's wrong.

Reader will break and tell optimus what happened.

Optimus will understand and tell them it's gonna be ok and to stand up for themselves.

He might or might not come in his haloform and scare off the bully.

Ratchet

He will noticed how reader will show signs of hurting at base.

From reader wincing from sitting up or sitting down to reader tearing up.

He would have enough and take reader to the medbay and scans them.

He will see them having old and new bruises and cracked bones.

He would be surprised, furious, and worried.

Furious that reader dident tell him anything, sad that reader is hurt and worried that reader is hidding this.

He will ask and not let reader leave I tel they say.

Reader will explain they are being abused by their parents.

He would be furious and tell Agent William Fowler.

Bumblebee

He saw reader get hit by a passing car.

He would immediately go into his haloform and go over to reader

Reader will be hurt badly.

He would immediately call for a groundbridge and bring reader back to base.

Ratchet will be their to help reader.

Bumblebee will blame himself for not spotting the car before reader crossed.

Optimus will help him calm down.

Once reader was OK he will constantly say he was sorry.

Reader will have to help him calm down to.

Reader will have to explain that it was an asshole driver and not his fault.

Bumblebee will need alot of snuggles.

Decpticons

Megatron

Megatron will come across reader in the storage room crying.

He will act he dosent care but he does.

He will ask what's wrong and when reader explains that starscream hurt them he would be mad.

How dare starscream hurt is favorite human. (😏)

He will immediately take reader to the medbay and make sure reader is healed by knockout.

Once reader is healed, he will go deal with starscream.

Starscream screams and pleads will be heared across the warship.

Megatron made sure to take the night off and give reader alot of snuggles.

Soundwave

Soundwave will be at readers work in his haloform.

Reader is a police officer and when Soundwave sees them, he is met with reader bandage up.

He will ask if they where ok and what happened.

Reader explains they can't say since it's classified.

Once at the warship, Soundwave will spend his time with reader.

Once reader is asleep, Soundwave is on a man hunt.

He finds the criminal that hurt reader and the next day he is found dead.

Reader has a suspicion what happened to them but they will keep it to themselves.

Starscream

Reader went out with knockout and breakdown for a mission.

Reader dident return.

Starscream went to go find them.

He finds them hurt in the forest and asked what happened.

Reader will explain that knockout and breakdown got scared by the autobots and left them.

Starscream will be so fucking pissed that he will take reader, return to the warship and tear knockout and breakdown a new one.

Ocne he does, starscream will take reader to a human clinic since he doesn't trust knockout or breakdown right now.

Starscream is sweet but in his own way.

Starscream makes sure to give reader some love.

Some art from @tea333love who also put in this request!

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Bookmark my Heart

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You're not the audiobook type. You much prefer reading over listening to books. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device.

Warnings: None! (Though I do believe Flirty!Rooster is a warning I should call out.)

Themes: Meet-Cute, Flirting, Coffee, Books, Smut Books

Word Count: 3456

A/N: So, if you all aren't aware, today is the lovely @roosterforme's birthday! I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Em and all of the amazing things she does more than to write some Rooster for her. Happy Birthday! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! So without further ado, I'm pleased to present you all with Bookmark my Heart, a fic where Bradley Bradshaw is an audiobook narrator and the reader, nicknamed Paper, runs right into him! All my thanks to @horseshoegirl and @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic and catching all of the places where I've missed commas as well as updating my phrasing!

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

You’re not the audiobook type. Something about having someone read the pages, providing inflections and changes of tone to the otherwise inflectionless words tends to kill your imagination. So you much prefer reading over listening to the books you’re in the mood to peruse. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device. But maybe you should back up a little bit.

It all started, like it usually did for you, with a book. Unlike normally though, you aren’t talking about Keats, Byron, Shelley, or Austen. This time, the book that was your downfall was something you’d usually classify as chick-lit. Not that chick-lit is a bad thing. There are quite a few romance novels which are beautifully written and that you enjoy reading and re-reading. It’s just not normal that a romance novel, something smutty and provocative, would end up being talked about on podcasts and the news. That’s not considering how all of your female colleagues seem to be talking about the very same book. But that’s the other interesting thing. They’re not even discussing the book’s contents. More like they’re discussing the narrator’s voice in the audiobook edition - how deep and smooth and raspy it is.

It hadn’t even been a full day before the curiosity got the better of you and you purchased the book from Kindle Unlimited. It took you the better part of two weeks before you actually screwed up the courage to listen to it though. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a Saturday morning when you were running errands to listen to the book. In your defense, there was no better time to listen to the book other than a day when you’d be spending quite a long time in the car with nothing else to do. You’d definitely miscalculated. Dear lord, this man’s voice?! It’s deep and raspy, something smooth and dark in how he voices the syllables. It’s the kind of voice you’ve once heard referred to as panty-wetting - an epithet you’ve never understood until now.

The book has you squirming as you walk through the grocery store. There’s sweat dripping down your spine as he talks about something involving fighter jets and the men (and women - you always feel like you have to correct) who fly them. You’d never have thought that flaps and ailerons could ever be that alluring. You have to take a minute as you leave the grocery store, sitting in your car in silence practically heaving just at the way the word “Doll” had dripped off of his lips. Maybe you can buy into the hype a little bit. It’s not often that you find a romance book in the male perspective after all. As far as finding the pilots sexy goes, though, what can you say? You’ve seen Top Gun - both movies - those boys in their dress whites are awfully sexy.

You send a little prayer of thanks to Rooster Bradshaw, whoever he is, for narrating this book. Just his voice has already made your boring Saturday running errands a thousand times better. You don't even mind that you're melting in the San Diego heat without the air conditioning on as you collect yourself. At least there is only one thing you have left to do today. As a reward for finishing up your errands, including odious activities like going to the bank and post office and grocery shopping, you'd vowed to treat yourself with a romp through your favorite bookstore.

Like you mentioned earlier, it all started with a book. What can you say? You're nothing if not predictable. The Breezy Bean is your favorite coffee shop and bookstore. It's a small shop nestled right in the midst of cobblestone streets and overshadowed by apartment buildings on either side. It's always a zoo trying to get parking, but you can't regret the competition for parking when the books are as good as they are and the coffee is even better.

Lara's not at the counter, but her business partner and best friend, Emily is, and you wave at her absentmindedly as you tangle the cord of your headphones around your index finger. The entire shop smells like coffee beans, paper and ink. You could spend forever here, and you're sure you have, at the very least, spent the entire day in the shop before. The shelves tower over your head, creaking under the weight of everything they hold. You're not a woman on a mission today, content to just meander until a cover catches your fancy. The eyes eat first, after all, isn't that what they say? If only you knew how true that statement would be.

The whole time you're listening to the book, tasting the words on your tongue seconds after Rooster says them, teasing the syllables out like you're trying to snatch them from his lips. Is it any wonder that after about four hours of listening to his voice, you're starting to imagine what the main character of the book looks like based on how Rooster sounds? You're only human, after all. It's quiet and dim in the back of the store, the shelves lit only by the small lights shining from the wall sconces. This is your favorite section of the store. There's a squashy green armchair here with a small table, and this is where you usually sit and wile away the hours.

It's rare that anyone ever ventures into this corner of the store. So it's a surprise when you see a man standing right in front of your favorite chair. He's tall and ridiculously handsome, wearing an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Like everyone in California, he's got Ray-Bans flung into the neckline of his tank top. The truly unique part of his look is the mustache he's carefully cultivated on his upper lip. He’s holding a book in long-fingered hands, lips pursed as he scans the pages, leaning gently against one of the shelves.

You try your best to squeeze past him in the narrow aisle, wondering if Em and Lara have squeezed more shelves back here or if you've just gained weight when it happens — your headphone cord snags on the buttons on his open shirt. You try to untangle it, unsuccessfully, but then your phone falls out of your pocket and rips your headphones right out of the jack.

You were just getting to a good part, something filled with innuendo but not quite at the sex. That's your only silver lining. Because when your phone nosedives to the, thankfully, carpeted floor sans your headphones, the audio keeps playing way too loudly for the hushed environment. To add insult to injury, your phone is closer to him than it is to you, and well, you've embarrassed yourself enough. The last thing you need is to get eye-level with a stranger's dick while your phone is narrating smut in a bookstore.

“Good book?” There's a smile on his face, and you nod timidly as he hands you back your phone. You pause the app and turn the volume all the way down before his words, or well, you should say, the sound of his voice sinks in.

If you weren’t mortified before, you're even more so now. Obviously, your brain does not compute, so your brain-to-mouth filter isn't working as you blurt out, “You're Rooster Bradshaw.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when he starts laughing - a full body, belly laugh which fills the stacks with the mellifluous sound. If you had any doubts before that you'd run into the Rooster Bradshaw at your favorite coffee shop before (which you didn’t - see your intimate knowledge of his voice from earlier), you wouldn’t have any now. His character had actually laughed not fifteen minutes ago in the book. Well, now what are you supposed to do? You feel hot, embarrassment crawling its way up your throat as you shift your weight back and forth. Rooster's smiling at you as he stands back, lounging against the shelf like he's waiting for you to get your shit together. You'd hate to break it to him, but you don't think that's possible.

“I'm sorry.” You try your best to hide your face because he does not need to see what your facial expressions are doing.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You shrug a shoulder as you busy yourself by turning around and trying to force yourself to read the titles. “It's not every day I run into pretty girls in my favorite bookstore, listening to me narrate a book about US Naval Aviators.”

Flirting shouldn’t be the thing which puts you at ease in this situation. There really must be something wrong with you. You’ve never done anything like this before. What happened to the girl who would have run away the minute the phone fell? She might not be facing down the sexiest man she’s ever seen, but at least that version of her isn’t at risk of heart palpitations.

“I hate to break it to you, Rooster, but a lot of pretty women are listening to you right now. This book has made its way onto podcasts and PBS. The author herself has been interviewed gushing about your professionalism and how you say the word “aileron.” Despite your mortification, you find yourself mirroring his relaxed position against the shelves. “Though I do have to correct a part of your statement there. What about yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun makes me pretty? Because I’d call myself a mess.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re a mess, pretty girl.” Rooster grins as he tugs the shoulder of your cami up from where it is sliding down your arm. “Don’t you know exactly how devastating you look in those yoga pants?”

You’re left dumbstruck, reeling as he leans even closer to you. All of a sudden, you’re inundated with the scent of his cologne as he crowds into your space, and you’re forced to tip your head up to keep eye contact. Of course, the motion makes your glasses tip on your face, and you can’t lift a hand up to resettle them on your face without brushing up against every inch of the man, nearly squishing you into the shelf. There’s a scant few centimeters between you as you try to string words together.

“What makes you think I don’t know how good these pants make my ass look?” You smirk just a little, screwing up all of your courage to peer up at him. “But really, this outfit is comfortable.”

“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel, honey.” There’s a heat in his gaze as his voice rasps out the words. “But maybe we can both get a little more comfortable and have a cup of coffee together?” 

Only two people will ever know if your hand strays right over the seam at the front of his jeans as you walk away. “I’d love to, but maybe you need to take a few minutes in seclusion, Mr. Chicken.”

You feel giddy as you walk away because things like this don’t just happen to girls like you. You don’t flirt with men you've just met. And you definitely do not brush over the dicks of men you've just met! The counter is nearly empty as you walk up, and you know Em has clocked onto the fact that your hands are surprisingly empty of books.

“Hiya, Paper!” You roll your eyes only a little. Buy a stack of paperbacks once a week from a bookstore for months, and this is exactly what you’ll be nicknamed. “No books today?”

“Hey, Em. Can I get a latte, please? And whatever the gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt orders is on me.” You grin at the sight of her eyebrows ticking up until they’re nearly in her hair.

“What has our sweet little Paper been doing today, huh?” You shrug just a little, grinning as she hands you your drink. “I’ve been reading, Em!”

“Of course you have!” You’re laughing as you make your way to a table for two in the corner.

You’re smiling outright when Rooster swaggers out of the shelves a few minutes later, and Em clocks the Hawaiian shirt on his broad frame. She’s half drooling when he orders an Americano. As she turns to make his drink, you get the messages in short order.

What the fuck, Paper!

This is the man you’re buying a coffee for?

Damn, girl! I’m going to need all of the details. STAT!

You put the device away only when the chair opposite yours slides out, and Rooster settles in. You'd promised a full detailing of the encounter to Em, and you wouldn't be surprised if Lara interrogates you the next time you see her as well.

“So, obviously, you come here often, then.” He’s smirking as he sips on his coffee.

“Yup!” You’re just as chipper as you blow over the surface of your own mug.

“You come here often enough that one of the owners just threatened me with the loss of my…” He pauses like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry as he says the words, “...crown jewels…” and grimaces before continuing, “...if I hurt you.”

“She also called you Paper. Why’s that, Honey?”  

You lean forward, feeling just a little more confident as he mirrors your position. “Tit for tat, Bradshaw, if that even is your last name. You tell me something about yourself, I tell you something about myself.”

“Deal?” You stretch your hand out and gasp when he takes it and sets it down to the side of the mugs.

“Deal.”

“I’ll start.” Your faces are inches apart from each other. He's whispering, and you have to lean forward even further so you don't miss a single word. “My name’s Bradley Bradshaw. I didn’t want to use my real name while narrating those books.”

“And Rooster was what you decided on?” His chuckle and yours rise into the air in perfect harmony.

“It was a nickname I got in college. I was always the only guy in the dorm up before 9 A.M.”

You take turns sharing your life stories and quite a few secrets until your coffees are long gone. You find yourself telling him all about how you got your nickname and how you’ve been feeling stuck for the longest time. With Bradley, it doesn’t feel like another boring first date. If it weren’t for the faint hiss of the espresso machine and the clank of mugs and cutlery you wouldn't think there was another person in the room but the two of you. There are butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body shudders when he hooks his ankle around yours and tugs you closer. That point of contact has your blood turning into molten lava in your veins as his hand trails gentle patterns across your upturned palm.

“Hey, Paper?” It takes an inhuman effort to drag your eyes away from the magic Bradley Bradshaw is committing just with your hands in his own.

“Hey, Em.” As you say her name, you realize how dark it is. “The store’s closing, isn’t it?”

“Yup. It actually closed an hour ago. You looked so cute together that I called Lara, and we made an executive decision to let the two of you keep talking for just a bit longer.”

Your face feels extra hot because Em’s looking at you like she’s liable to start laughing at any moment. You don’t want to know what your hair looks like now, not after hours of running your fingers through it. It’s probably even more of a mess than it was when you literally ran into Bradley hours ago. A great first impression, right?

“Let me settle up then, Em.” If your voice is hushed and a little more subdued, it’s because reality and panic are settling in.

“No, sweetheart.” Bradley’s voice is even firmer as he stands up and places a hand on your arm. “Today is on me, I insist.”

You know exactly when Em puts it together, because her eyes widen to a comical degree. She was the biggest reason why you bought the book in the first place. “You’re Rooster Bradshaw!”

For the second time today, you find yourself laughing along with Bradley, though the sounds of his laughter doesn’t put you at ease in quite the same way as it did earlier. Em’s laughing too, and she looks gorgeous in the golden light. At least she’s put together in a way you’re so obviously not. Maybe you should have taken your mother’s well-meant advice when you were younger - dress to impress, for you never know who you’re going to meet. But you haven’t taken that advice, choosing to dress simply and comfortably. It works when you can’t wear any makeup when you work in a laboratory and when all of your nice clothes would be at risk of chemical spills at worst and covered by a lab coat at best. So you walk through life in a swirl of well-worn jeans, tee-shirts, yoga pants, tank tops, camisoles, sneakers and sandals. There are a few dressier items in your closet, but they’re so far in the back that you haven’t worn them in probably a year and a half. Em’s cute outfit and wavy, non-greasy hair probably feel like a breath of fresh air to him. The same goes for the timber of her voice and how she sounds so elegant. 

If you didn't know any better (because you know Em, you do), you'd think that the words the two of them are sharing by the counter now are flirtier than settling up a bill. It doesn’t help the green, envious monster sitting on your shoulder, though. Nor does it help when you run to the restroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look worse than you thought you did. Your face is wan and pale, the bags under your eyes have bags, and your hair is so greasy that it lays limp when you release it from your bun. Your lips are chapped, and fuck, how did you manage to drip coffee onto yourself?! You only drank one cup! What's left to show you that you've made a huge fool of yourself?

Your hands shake as you splash water on your face and put your hair back in its sad bun again. Just a little longer and you'll be home, wallowing in peace at yet another failed potential relationship. At least the water has brought a blush to your cheeks and cleaned the worst of the smudges off your glasses. Bradley probably has Em's phone number by now, right? It's probably best not to get your hopes up too high, else you find yourself falling from a prodigious height.

Instead, you're pleasantly surprised to see him still in the shop.

“Hey!” His face lights up when he sees you, and you're sure your earlier pep-talk about managing your expectations hasn’t worked at all. This is going to hurt. “So, I know talking to a stranger for hours at a coffee shop probably isn't the best first date. So would you maybe want to go on a real one sometime soon?”

“Y-you're serious?” He smiles and hands you his phone, unlocked.

“Put your number in there, Paper.” Your mind's not working at all as you type the ten digits in. 

“Why me?” 

His smile is warm and fond as he takes the phone back, types something and hits send. Your notification tone goes off soon after. 

“It's not every day I run into a pretty girl listening to me reading a romance novel who doesn't fawn all over me once they realize who I am. It's been nice talking to you. I feel like you're the first person in a long time to see Bradley, not Rooster.”

He holds the door open for you, a hand finding its way to the small of your back as he walks you out to your car. He even opens the door for you, a chivalrous action which has your heart flip-flopping in your chest. “Baby doll?”

“Yeah?” He takes advantage of the height difference between you to tip your face up as he feathers a kiss across the apple of your cheek.

“It helps that your ass looks damn good in those yoga pants!” 

You're laughing despite yourself as you drive away. Maybe audiobooks aren't as bad as you think? Or, well, at least their narrators aren't.

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

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87 @kmc1989

[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

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

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.” 

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

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell l @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

[sarahsmi13s]

Hesitation

(gif not mine)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem pilot!reader (last name: abbott, call sign: medusa)

characters: jake seresin, reader, the dagger squad + maverick and warlock, leroy jethro gibbs, ziva david, timothy mcgee, anthony dinozzo junior, donald mallard (ducky), james palmer, abby scuito, secnav, male villian!oc - Cole Cooke

warnings: THIS FIC IS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, language, death, SA, torture, abuse (not by hangman), car accident (mentioned), vomiting, guns, canon violence, i’m sorry if i missed any, please let me know and I will add it to the list

word count: ~10.6k (i-i don’t know what to tell you)

a/n: the NCIS team will consist of Gibbs, McGee, DiNozzo, and Ziva (mainly because that’s the season i’m currently on) and the Dagger Squad is temporarily stationed at Oceana

like mentioned in the warning, this fic contains sensitive themes, reader discrection is advised

**********

The Gibbs Team looked at the plasma, looking over the military file displayed on it.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and got closer to the screen, “She’s pretty, real pretty.” “She’s missing DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, walking into the bullpen with his coffee. “How did you-” Gibbs just stared at him. “Nevermind.”

McGee rolled his eyes before turning to the screen. “Lieutenant Y/N ‘Medusa’ Abbott was reported UA this morning by her captain, Captain Pete Mitchell.” Ziva spoke up, “She’s a Naval Aviator, graduated top of her class and has flown several high profile missions.” “She also was a TOP GUN graduate, graduating in the number one spot there as well,” Tony added.

“She got a backseater?” Gibbs asked. “Uh, no, not anymore,” Tim said, looking down at the ground. “Not anymore?” The image changed to one of a photo of Y/N and her backseater. “Lieutenant Jordan Winters was in a car accident in 2018. He was in a coma for a month, when he woke up the damage to his legs had been so severe that he was discharged,” Tony elaborated.

Gibbs nodded, “What about her wingman?” Ziva pressed the clicker, “Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, call sign ‘Hangman’; also graduated top of his class and graduated from TOP GUN in the number one slot.” Tony winced, “Wonder what he did to earn a call sign like that.” Ziva chuckled, “I can think of a few things.”

A smack sounded out in the bullpen.

Ziva and Tony rubbed the back of their heads. “Right, sorry boss.”

“We need to talk to her squadron, Captain Mitchell, and Admiral Bates,” he walked around his desk and grabbed his coffee. “DiNozzo, you’re with me.” “Gibbs, why are we looking into this? She’s only been UA a few hours, that’s not really enough to classify her as missing,” Ziva questioned. “My gut.”

As Gibbs and Tony got into the elevator, “McGee, I want a BOLO out for her vehicle.” “Yes, Boss.”

********

After flashing their badges to the gate they went into the training facility.

“How can I help you guys?” The secretary asked as he looked up from his computer. “Do you know where we can find Admiral Bates?” “He should be in his office, he’s expecting you.” Gibbs nodded and went down the hall.

He knocked and received a ‘come in’.

Gibbs walked in flashing his badge, “Admiral Bates? Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. This is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.” Warlock stood, “Glad you could make it here so soon. I know Captain Mitchell called it in, but he was ordered to start training as usual.” “Is he on the ground?” Warlock nodded, “Yes, as are the rest of the pilots. If you’ll follow me I can show you the way.”

As he led the way, they asked him questions. Like what Y/N was like, what her relationship was with her squad and her commanding officers. And Warlock had nothing but positive responses.

They entered the hangar seeing the pilots sitting casually, standing at attention when the Admiral entered the room.

“You may be seated.” Warlock gestured to the agents, “They are Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo. They’re from NCIS.”

Payback sat up with a furrowed brow, “NCIS? What happened?” Warlock sighed, “As you all know, Lieutenant Abbott did not report this morning. They’re here to ask you all some questions.”

Gibbs turned to Maverick, “Captain, I’d like to speak with you first.” “Of course, my office is this way.”

******

In Maverick’s office, Gibbs asked him questions about Y/N.

“You called this in very early, why?” Maverick sighed, “Med- Lieutenant Abbott, has never been UA and has barely ever called in sick. I’ve had to send her home a few times actually.” Tony nodded before asking his own question, “So, there is no possibility that she’s late?” “No, sir.”

Maverick sighed, “I just, I have this feeling that something’s very wrong. It’s in my gut, and my gut is usually right.” Tony and Gibbs shared a look, nodding.

“Is there anyone that might want to hurt her for any reason?” Tony asked. Pete shook his head, “Not that I know of. She’s loved by everyone on this squad and her past squads had nothing but nice things to say about her.” Gibbs sat up, “We need to personally talk with each of those pilots out there.” Mav nodded, “Of course, whatever you need.”

******

They spoke with Hangman first.

“What can you tell us about Lieutenant Abbott?” Gibbs asked. “She’s one of the best damn fighter pilots around. It’s an honor flying with her,” Jake answered honestly.

“You’ve flown with her for a while, nearly your whole career,” Tony pointed out. “Yes, sir. We were in another squadron together before being reassigned to this one.” Both nodded.

Gibbs glanced down at Y/N’s file. “She’s got a badass call sign. ‘Medusa’. Let me guess, you gave that to her?” Jake nodded, smiling at the memory, “I did.” “Why Medusa?” Jake chuckled, “Well, first she flies stone cold. If she ever gets hit on in a bar, the look she has could kill. She also loves mythology, it’s one of her hyperfixations.” He smiled as he remembered the last reason, “She’s got a sick Medusa tattoo on her thigh.”

Tony raised his brows, huffing in amusement.

Jake tensed at that, and Gibbs noticed, but didn’t mention it.

“You mentioned that she got hit on, do you think any of those guys would maybe try to hurt her because she rejected them?” DiNozzo asked. Hangman frowned a little, thinking, “No, most of them are usually drunk and just move on to the next girl.” “Were there any that didn’t move on?” He nodded, “A few, but they tend to move on when the rest of us size him up from across the room.”

“Has anything like that happened since you’ve been stationed here?” Gibbs asked. “No, mainly because she’s not too familiar with the area or the bars so she usually doesn’t go up to the bar alone.” “What about her stone cold stare?” Tony asked, a hint of mirth in his tone. “It still works, but some guys tend to take that as playing hard to get. So, one of us guys usually goes to the bar with her. If she needs to go to the bathroom, she goes with Phoenix or Halo.” They nodded, writing their notes down.

“What about her relationship with her backseater?” Jake chuckled, “Her and X-Ray are like brother and sister. She still visits him when she gets the chance.” Tony arched a quizzical eyebrow, “They’re still close?” He nodded, “The bond between pilot and wizzo is something else. When you’re in a plane together, your life rests entirely on the other person’s shoulders. They were a great team, I owe both of them my life.”

Gibbs nodded, “Seems like Lieutenant Abbott owes you her life as well. You’ve got two air-to-air kills, one of which was to save her life about 2 years ago.” Hangman nodded, “Yes sir. She was out of defense with no ammo, she had a bandit on her three o’clock.” “So, that’s when you swooped in and saved the day?” Tony asked, chuckling before cutting it off with a cough from a stare from Gibbs.

“Thank you Lieutenant Seresin, if we have more questions I need you to be available,” Gibbs said as they both stood. “Of course, sir,” Jake shook his hand, along with Tony’s before leaving.

********

The rest of the interviews went very similarly.

Everyone said basically the same thing. Medusa was never late, loved by every one of them, and had no known enemies. When at the bar no pursuers ever tried to follow her out.

While they didn’t get a lead to where she could be, they got an idea on who she is.

*******

As they drove back to NCIS, Gibbs’ phone rang.

“What ya got, McGee?” “Lieutenant Abbott’s vehicle was spotted in a ditch headed towards the air station. Sending the coordinates now,” McGee reports. “Ziva and I have already started that way.”

Tony nodded at Gibbs after checking his phone. Gibbs nodded back, “Okay, we’ll meet you and Ziva there.” He hung up and started driving to where Y/N’s car was spotted.

*******

They met up at the scene and began to process it.

“So, what are we looking at Boss?” DiNozzo asked as he photographed tire marks. “I’ll tell you when I know, DiNozzo.” “Right.”

Gibbs turned to Ducky, “Do you have a time of death, Ducky?” “Based on bruising, I’d say a day, maybe two.” They moved her body from the vehicle to the gurney to check her body temperature. “Her body temperature suggests the same.”

“How are we gonna tell the Dagger Squad?” Tony asked, watching Palmer wheel the gurney up to the truck. “How are we gonna tell her family?” “Her squadron is the only family she’s got, McGee,” Gibbs huffed and made his way back to the car.

*******

Jethro walked into autopsy, “You got a cause of death for me, Ducky?” Dr. Mallard went over to the x-rays, “Well, based on the bruising, and the position we found her in - Lieutenant Abbott died of asphyxiation. When she crashed into the tree, she was pinned by the steering wheel. Poor girl, her ribs were crushed and it could have taken hours for her to lose consciousness.” Gibbs turned to the autopsy table, walking over to the body on it.

He tilted his head as he looked at her face, squinting a little. “Did we get a positive ID on her?” “We found her ID, sir,” Palmer piped up. Gibbs just gave him a look before turning to Ducky, “Did we confirm that?” Ducky waved his finger, “I thought you were going to ask that, which is why I was going to suggest getting one of her colleagues to come up here to confirm.” “Why didn’t we just fingerprint her?”

Palmer came over, “We would have-” He turned her palm over, “Except she doesn’t have any.” Gibbs nodded, “Lieutenant Seresin mentioned she had a tattoo on her thigh. One of Medusa, said that’s how she got her call sign.”

Ducky nodded, “Ah! Yes, Medusa.” He moved the cloth of her leg, showing the tattoo there. “Beautiful work of art, truly.”

Gibbs’ phone rang, “Yeah Abbs?” “I think I’ve got something fishy with the Lieutenant’s car.” He nodded, “On my way.”

Ducky looked down at her body, “Call it a gut feeling my dear, but something about you just doesn’t line up.”

*******

Gibbs and Tony walked into the garage, “What you got Abby?”

The scientist popped up from behind the door. “Something that doesn’t line up.” He rose a brow, “And that is?” She enthusiastically waved him over.

“Look at the interior.” He did. “It’s covered in glass, Abbs.” “Exactly!” Tony laughed, “Abby, that’s normal for a crash.” Abby held up a finger, “But the lack of blood is not!”

Gibbs furrowed his brow and looked at the interior more closely.

There truly was not enough blood in that car for it to have been a proper crash. There was little blood on the air bag, the seat, the windows- anywhere blood would be, there was small amounts.

Gibbs looked at the crime scene photos, seeing the little amount of blood on her body.

“The lack of blood suggests-” “She was dead before the car hit the tree,” Gibbs said as he turned to walk to the elevator.

Abby quickly followed him, “Gibbs wait!” “What?” She smiled at his expectant expression. “I was checking the brake pedal and I found this,” she held up an evidence jar. He sighed and grabbed the jar, shaking it a little, “What is this?” She took it back, “I’m thinking it’s cinder block. I’m gonna run tests to be sure, and on the trace amounts of blood as well.”

Gibbs smiled, “Good work, Abby.”

*****

Gibbs walked into the squad room the next day, he really hadn’t left the building, going over every detail he could find on Lieutenant Abbott. Also staying for the autopsy of her body, learning that she had in fact died somewhere else two days prior to the day she was found. And results from the residue found in the floorboard were confirmed to be cinder block

He was still waiting on the results of the blood analysis.

As if on cue, his phone rang. “Gibbs.” “The blood results came back and you won’t believe-” That’s all he needed before he hung up and went to the elevator.

*******

Walking in with a Caf-POW, Gibbs went over to Abby at her lab computer.

“Tell me something, Abbs,” he said, sitting the drink down. “I can do better than that.”

She pulled up the blood test, both from the body and what she pulled off the airbag. “These blood samples don’t match.” Gibbs furrowed his brow, “So there was someone else in the car?” Abby shook her head, “Nope. This blood-” She held up a vile taken from the body. “Does not match this blood.” She held up the swab Ducky took from where Medusa’s nose bled. “When I ran a test on this swab, I couldn’t find a match. So, I requested this.”

Abby took a breath, allowing Gibbs to ask questions. “So whose blood is this?” “I’m glad you asked.” She pulled up another test, showing a positive match. “What is this?” “When I learned the blood pulled off the Lieutenant’s skin didn’t match what was taken out of her body, I ran what I found on the airbag against both. What was found on the airbag matches what was taken off her skin.”

Gibbs nodded, “Do we have any idea on whose blood that is?” “Not who,” Abby smirked, turning to her evidence table. “Animal?” “Nope.” Gibbs exhaled impatiently, “Then what is it, Abby?”

“Based on the theory we had about her being dead before the crash, I tested the blood for red dye. And I found that both samples, the ones taken from both the air bag and her skin, contained Red Dye 40.” “That’s food coloring.” Abby nodded, “Yup! The blood in the vehicle is fake. Our Lieutenant was murdered before the crash.” Gibbs kissed her cheek, “Good work, Abbs.”

*******

“McGee, go get Lieutenant Seresin. Bring him in for questioning, but don’t tell him why,” Gibbs said as he walked around his desk.

Tim stood up, “Uh, but do I get to know why we’re bringing him in?” Gibbs looked up at him, “Because Lieutenant Abbott was murdered.”

*****

Hangman sat in interrogation, toothpick in his mouth as he tapped on the table.

Gibbs walked in and Jake looked up, taking the pick out of his mouth. “Lieutenant Seresin,” Gibbs nodded to him. “Agent Gibbs,” Jake nodded back.

It was silent for a moment, Hangman waiting for the agent to speak.

“When did you last see Medusa, Hangman?” Gibbs looked up from the file on the table. “Sunday night, around 2200, sir.” “That’s late, you both weren’t in your dorms?” Jake shook his head, “No sir. The squad went out to the bar that night, sir. Y/N and I went to our rental on base at 2130.” “You lived together?” Hangman nodded, “Yes, sir. We’re dating, sir.”

Gibbs leaned on the table, “Dating?”

“Yes sir.” “Was this not an issue with you being in the same squadron?” “We were dating before joining the Navy, sir. Grew up together.” “And you aren’t married yet?” Jake exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching a little.

Gibbs smirked a little as he watched Hangman’s eyes fall to the table. “What happened Sunday night? Did you and Y/N get into a fight that night?” Jake swallowed, looking Gibbs in the eye, “Yes sir.” “About what?”

“A girl at the bar had flirted with me-” “Did you flirt back?” Jake looked at Gibbs incredulously, “Of course not.” “Then why did you fight with Medusa?” Jake rubbed his face, “When I turned the girl down, she laid it on thicker. Y/N claimed her territory.” Gibbs nodded and began writing, “I assume you left after that?” He nodded, “Yes sir.”

“What happened when you got home, Lieutenant?” Jake sniffed and rubbed his nose, “Medusa was giving me the cold shoulder, which I’m not entirely surprised about. I tried to get her to talk and when she did, it escalated. And she asked me a question, one that I hesitated to answer.” “Was the question,” Gibbs played with his pen. “When you were gonna marry her?”

Hangman nodded, “Yes sir. She said she was tired of having to show ‘barrack bunnies’ that I’m taken. That if we were married, it’d stop them. I told her a ring doesn’t stop them, if anything they try harder… Then she asked if I ever planned on marrying her, and I hesitated.” “That’s when she left?” “Stormed out the door and left. I needed to talk about it, so I called my buddy Rooster and he came by. He stayed over because I wasn’t sure if Medusa was going to stay with Phoenix or not. She didn’t come home or show up on base.”

Gibbs cleared his throat, “She didn’t come home because she was in a car accident, ran off the road and smashed into a tree.”

He could see Jake’s heart plummet as the words left his mouth. “Is-is she okay?” Gibbs shook his head, hesitating to pull out the photos but laid them out anyway, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. She was found dead in the driver’s seat.” Jake looked down at the photos and covered his mouth, “Is she here?” Gibbs nodded, “She’s in autopsy.” “Can I see her? Please?”

******

Tony and Ziva watched the interrogation through the glass.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” He asked, looking down at Ziva. “About seeing her Sunday night?” She looked up at DiNozzo, laughing a little, “Or that they were a couple?” He scoffed, “I know that’s a lie. Dating for nearly 15 years and they aren’t married, there’s no way.”

Ziva looked back and saw how torn up Jake looked. She sobered up, “I think he’s telling the truth. Gibbs does too.”

******

Gibbs took Jake to autopsy, “Ducky, I’ve got a second opinion to confirm Lieutenant Abbott’s ID.”

“Oh, who might this charming young man be?” Ducky asked, walking up to Jake. Hangman held his hand out, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, you can call me Hangman.” Ducky smiled and shook his hand, “Doctor Mallard, everyone calls me Ducky.” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle, “I think you’d like my friend.” “Is he also a medical examiner?” Hangman shook his head, chuckling, “No, he’s also a bird.”

Gibbs smirked from behind his coffee, before following Ducky and Hangman.

“I must warn you, Lieutenant, the crash made matching her to her ID through facial recognition difficult.” Ducky pinched the cloth in his fingers, waiting for Jake’s confirmation that this is what he wanted. “Please, Doctor Mallard.”

Ducky moved the sheet, exposing her face. Jake inhaled sharply, hesitantly reaching out, pausing. “You may touch her, Jacob.” Jake ran his index finger along the side of her face. “Oh, Sugar… I’m so sorry..”

Both Ducky and Gibbs watch tears fill Jake’s eyes before he furrows his brows. “What’s wrong Jake?” Gibbs asked, tilting his chin up. “It’s just- Y/N has a scar. Right here,” Hangman used his pinky to trace a line from just below her cheek bone to a spot on her neck. “She got it last year. She tried to break up a bar fight and got grazed by a broken bottle.” “Are you sure it hasn’t faded?” Jake shook his head, pulling out his phone, finding a photo from Sunday night before the fight.

He gave it to Ducky, who zoomed in on the photo, seeing the scar in the exact place it was supposed to be.

“Can you show me her tattoos?” Gibbs arched a brow, “Tattoos?” He looked at Ducky, “Why didn’t you say she had more than one?” “Because we only had one to go off of.” Gibbs nodded, “Yeah, the important one!”

Jake arched a brow, looking between the two before Ducky smirked and turned back to him and lifted the sheet. Jake’s eyes scanned her body, matching every tattoo to the ones he had committed to memory. He shuddered, covering his mouth, “It’s her.”

Gibbs inhaled through his nose, shoulders rising a little before he exhaled. “Lieutenant, can anyone confirm that Lieutenant Abbott was at the bar on Sunday?” Jake’s eyes shot up to the marine, “I don’t understand, you said this was a car accident.” “Answer the question, Hangman.” Jake stood straight at the tone Gibbs had, “The Dagger Squad, or the bartender at the Siren’s Cave, sir.”

******

Ziva and Tony headed to the air station to talk to the squad and McGee went to the bar to get surveillance.

“Lieutenant Machado, can you confirm that Lieutenants Seresin and Abbott were at the Siren’s Cave Sunday night?” Ziva asked, sitting across from Coyote. “Yeah, Medusa beat me twice at 9-ball.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin said that he called you to come over after the fight he had with Lieutenant Abbott. Did you pass her on your way to their home?” Tony asked Rooster. “Yeah, she passed the bar as I was leaving.”

Tony called Gibbs to relay the information.

******

Gibbs opened the interrogation room door.

“Everyone confirmed seeing you both at the bar on Sunday night. Lieutenant Bradshaw confirmed that he saw her on his way to your house. You can go.” Jake stood up, “Can I get her tags, sir?” Gibbs nodded and jerked his head for Hangman to follow him.

They went down to Abby’s lab.

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” Abby came over, startling Jake a little. She paused, noticing him, “Hi, I’m Abby, forensic scientist.” He smiled, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin, friends call me Hangman.” “Oooh, a pilot- wait, you’re…” She trailed off as she realized who Jake was.

She hugged him, “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Jake glanced at Gibbs, who was smiling at him and shrugging, before hugging her back. “Thank you, Abby.”

When she pulled away she looked at Gibbs, waiting for him to speak. “If you’ve processed them, I need Lieutenant Abbott’s dog tags out of evidence and given to Lieutenant Seresin,” Gibbs told her. Abby frowned, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” Jake swallowed and nodded, “I understand if you need to keep them for any reason. I just-” “No!” Abby cut him off. “No, it’s not that I still need them. I don’t have them.” Jake tilted his head, “That can't be right, we never take them off.”

“Abby, I’ll be back. Lieutenant, I need to talk to you.” Gibbs ushered Jake out of Abby’s lab and to the elevator.

“Agent Gibbs, there’s something you’re not telling me. Was my wingman murdered?” Jake hissed as soon as the doors closed. Gibbs pressed the button for the squad room, sighing as he looked at Jake and stopped the elevator, “The body in autopsy is three days old. Y/N left your house on Sunday night.” Jake’s jaw slacked, “There’s a chance she’s alive?” Gibbs clenched his jaw, “Yeah. So I want to know who went through all the trouble to find a damn near perfect body double and replicate her tattoos to make it look like she died, and I wanna know why.”

******

Your head stayed down when the door opened.

“Oh come on, Y/N.” The cold metal of the blade under your chin made you raise your head. “There she is.”

*******

“Is there anyone in Y/N’s past that would want to hurt her?” Jake shook his head, chewing a toothpick as he paced through the squad room, “I don’t know.” “Come on, Hangman, think.” Jake clenched his jaw so hard he broke his toothpick, “I’m sorry if I can’t think of a single person that would have it out for the sweetest woman on the damn planet, Agent DiNozzo!”

Gibbs' phone rang, “Gibbs.” “I’ve got something!” He hung up and stood, “Abby’s lab now.”

Everyone, including Jake, went to Abby’s lab.

“Show me what you got Abbs.” She grinned at him and turned to her computer. “Just to be thorough, I found the Facebook pages of the tattoo shops Medusa got her tattoos at. I found the posts where she tagged them, and matched them with the photos taken in autopsy of her tattoos. And-” The team watched on the plasma as the photos layered over one another. “They don’t line up,” McGee finished for Abby.

“I also called the tattoo shops and learned they all use different ink. And all of the tattoos on our Jane Doe use the same ink.” “So this just further proves the fact that that body isn’t Lieutenant Abbott.” “Yes, but the fact it’s all the same ink means it’s easier to trace, Boss,” McGee spoke up.

Gibbs nodded and moved to leave, “Well, trace it McGee!” “I already did, Boss.” Gibbs stopped and turned, finding a smiling Probie.

He tossed his arms to the side, “Are you wanting a microphone?” Tim shook his head, “Sorry, Boss. First, Abby found the brand of ink, and then I was able to find where it’s sold. Turns out you can find it on Amazon, along with a tattoo machine. Ducky also noticed that, upon closer inspection, that the tattoos were in the healing stage. So I narrowed the search to purchases made two weeks ago and delivered to addresses in Virginia.”

McGee turned back to his computer, and everyone went to the plasma.

“Both were delivered to a: Hannah Nicholson.” Gibbs turned to Jake, “Lieutenant, does that name sound familiar to you?” Hangman shook his head, “No, never heard of her.”

Abby came up, “No, but you’ve seen her.” She clicked her remote and someone that looked similar to you was pulled up. “Hannah Nicholson is our Jane Doe.”

*******

You gritted your teeth as a slap was delivered to your face.

“When I’m done with you, your career will be over. You’ll never be in the sky again.” You laughed, like actually laughed, “You can’t be serious. Ruin my career? I’m a part of the best of the best, you could never keep me-” You grunted as he punched you in the gut.

The man squatted to be eye level with you, “Don’t get smart now, Y/N.” “Well, you could definitely benefit from getting smart. Don’t you think? You fake my death with a car accident and then send a video to NCIS of you with me, very much alive?” You arched a brow at him, “Not very smart-” He cut you off with a punch to the face, sending your chair, and you, to the floor.

*******

The next day while Jake was on base, he got an email sent to his phone. When he checked it and saw it was a video with you tied to a chair as a thumbnail.

“Maverick,” Jake didn’t hesitate to burst into his Captain’s office, not caring who may be in there. “Lieutenant-” “I need you to take me to NCIS.” (Jake was shaking too much to drive himself) Maverick stood, glancing at Warlock for a moment, “Why, Hangman?” Jake just turned his phone around and showed him the email.

Both Mav and Warlock looked at the phone. “Go, Captain, I’ll take over training for today.”

******

When they arrived, Jake had no hesitation to go right up to the squadroom.

“Lieutenant Seresin? What are you doing here?” McGee asked, being the first to see him. “Where’s Agent Gibbs?” Tony spun in his chair to get up, “Coffee run.”

He walked up to Hangman, “As senior field agent, I’d be more than happy to help.” Jake chuckled, tapping his palm with his phone, not really in the mood for putting up with Tony’s arrogance. “I’d prefer to speak to Agent Gibbs.” “Well, like I said, he’s not here. And I’m much better at-”

“At what, DiNozzo?” Gibbs said, standing next to the agent and the pilot as he sipped his coffee.

Tony stuttered to respond, making Jake smirk a little. “Have you ID’d the man Hannah met online?” “Not yet, boss.” “Then why are you standing here?” “Well, I was- uh- I was just- I’ll get right on that boss.”

Hangman and Maverick shared a look, before Gibbs spoke to them. “Lieutenant Seresin, I take it you have something for me?”

*******

“Well, you could definitely benefit from getting smart. Don’t you think? You fake my death with a car accident-”

“God, Medusa, stop talking…” Jake mumbled to himself. The group winced when you got punched in the face and your chair fell over.

Gibbs grunted a little, “Get this video to Abby. I want her to analyze every frame of that video. And who sent it to Lieutenant Seresin.” “On it, Boss,” McGee said, emailing it and then following his email.

Jake rubbed his face and sat down. He threw his head back and bit his lip. Maverick knelt down in front of him, “Hangman?”

Jake sniffed and looked down at his captain. “What is she thinkin’, Mav? Antagonizing him like that? That’s not how we were trained to handle situations like this.” “She’s not thinking, she’s just doing.” Jake scoffed, “As comforting as I assume that was supposed to be, it’s not even remotely easing my nerves.”

Ziva perked up, “Wait, what if she wasn’t taken because of the mission?” Tony nodded, “That would explain why she’s being so sassy. It’s not intel, it’s revenge”

*******

“Agent Gibbs!”

The crowd turned to the voice, seeing Director Vance upstairs. “SecNav would like to speak to you. MTAC now.”

As Gibbs made the stairs Vance noticed the two khaki uniforms in the squadroom, but simply nodded at them as they walked into MTAC.

“Agent Gibbs.” “Mister Secretary.” “One of the best naval aviators that just flew a high profile mission is missing. I was told you were on the case.” Gibbs nodded, “Yeah.” “Do you have any leads?” “No.” “Agent Gibbs, you do understand that if anything about that-” “He doesn’t care about the mission. He only cares about Lieutenant Abbott. It’s personal for him.” “So you know who he is?” Gibbs shook his head, “No, but based on the video sent to Lieutenant Seresin, he hasn’t asked any questions related to any mission.” SecNav nodded, “Okay. But Gibbs?” The marine raised a brow. “Get her back, the Navy needs her.”

*******

“You know, you ruined my life that day,” the masked man said as he played with his knife.

Your head lolled to the side, your exhaustion from the beatings taking a toll on you now. “What are you talking about?” “Do you not remember me?” He stood and you gritted your teeth as you forced your head up to look him in the eye. “Obviously not. Should I?” You winced as he pressed into a cut on your shoulder.

“Yeah, you should.” He pulled off his mask to reveal a face you haven’t seen since he got kicked out of the Academy.

“C-”

********

“Cole Cooke,” McGee said, pulling up Cooke’s old Naval Academy file. “Abby was able to find him because the email he used to send the video to Hangman, he used on an online dating site where he met Hannah.” Jake stood up, “Wait, Cooke?” The team parted to let him get a closer look. 

The pilot's face morphed into anger.

Anger that the marine recognized.

“What’d he do, Lieutenant?” Jake had fire in his eyes when he looked at Gibbs. “He sexually assaulted her and three other girls. Y/N’s the one that reported him.” Tim nodded, “And that’s what got him kicked out of the Naval Academy and blacklisted from the military.” “He wasn’t arrested?” Jake clenched his jaw, “He was, but he got out on good behavior.” 

Jake’s phone went off with a notification, an email to be more accurate. 

He dropped it onto McGee’s desk. “I don’t understand, why would he send these to me?” “You’re her boyfriend, Lieutenant, this can just be another form of revenge. He wants to get back at her for reporting him and, in turn, ruining his chances at a military career,” Ziva said, crossing her arms as McGee transferred the videos.

“He ruined his career all on his own, Agent David. Y/N just got a scumbag out of the service,” Jake huffed rubbing his forehead. “Nobody liked him, he was cocky. Always thought he was better than he is.” Tony chuckled, “Isn’t that the main trait of a naval aviator?” 

“They have something to back it up with, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “The only thing Cooke has to back him up is a record of being a dirtbag.” 

He looked at McGee, “Play it.”

You looked worse than before and Jake felt sick to his stomach. “Oh my god.” 

They watched him squat in front of you, twirling the knife he just cut you with in his hand. Jake’s jaw was clenched as he watched your head fall to the side as slow breaths made your chest move.

“You know, you ruined my life that day,” Cooke said. Your face scrunched in pain as you took a deep breath, “What are you talking about?” Cole stood and tipped your head back with a harsh grip on your chin, “Do you not remember me?” You scoffed, “Obviously not. Should I?” He moved the hand holding your chin to press into the cut he had just placed here, making you wince. “Yeah, you should,” he ripped his mask off.

The look on your face Jake had only seen one other time and it was when you came to his dorm crying.

********

The banging pulled Jake from his book.

“Hold your horses!” He pulled the door open, coming face to face with you crying and looking absolutely terrified. “Sugar what’s wrong?” 

Your hands were shaking as you showed him your knuckles, bruised and cut up.

“I-I didn’t want– I told him I had a boyfriend- Ja-ake,” you broke down outside his door. “Hey, hey, I got you. You’re safe now.” You swallowed, “Jake, I need to go to the superintendent-the dean-someone.” 

He pulled you into his room to get you out of the prying eyes of other midshipmen. “Why? I need you to-” He finally took in your appearance, you were wearing a disheveled USNA t-shirt and athletic shorts. Bruises were forming on your wrist and your eye and lip. “What the fuck happened to you?” 

“You remember last semester when those two girls dropped out for no reason?” He nodded, “Yeah, the two freshman girls right?” You nodded, swallowing another wave of tears away. “I found out why…” Jake searched your eyes, “Why, Y/N?”

*****

“Cole Cooke…”

Jake was brought back to the present by your voice.

Cole laughed, pushing your shoulder, “That’s right, Y/N. Cole Cooke, the man’s who military career you ruined.” It was your turn to laugh, “Me? Ruin your career? You assaulted me! And those two first years! They quit because they were scared of you! Scared because you threatened to kill them if they told anyone!”

He punched you, sending you falling back. He grabbed you by the rope under your breast. “And you’re not scared that I’ll do the same to you now?”

You held your head up to look at him, blood pouring from your nose. “I would lie and say ‘no’. But guess what?” “What?” He spat through gritted teeth. You smiled with blood stained teeth, “I put you in jail once. It’s almost poetic that I’d do it again. Except this time, there won’t be a chance you’ll make it out.”

Cole growled and they all noticed his posture change, “Let’s play a game, Lieutenant.” You shifted forward to get in his face, gaze stone cold, “What do you suggest, Cooke?” The team could feel the venom dripping off your tone. “Hangman.”

The video stopped on the frame of your face falling once again to show fear, and the team turned to face the pilot who looked equally worried and pissed.

*****

You were hanging from the ceiling, your chin resting against your chest.

The door to the room you were in opened. You whimpered just a little when he brushed his fingers against your bruised ribs, “You didn’t hurt him, did you? Please… You can do whatever you want to me, but please leave Jake out of this…”

Cole hummed in your ear, “Anything I want, hmmm?” You glanced at the camera, before looking at the ground shamefully. A shaky and timid ‘yes’ fell from your lips. He let out an amused huff before his hands ran over your shirtless torso.

*****

Jake felt bile rise up his throat when you looked down in shame.

“What’s he gonna do to her?” McGee asked. Gibbs frowned, “What he tried to do 12 years ago.”

The anger and disgust rolled off the agents as Cooke’s hands ran down your body. When he got to your breast you jerked away out of reflex, earning a pull to your hair which made you cry out.

You were getting weaker by the hour and the team could tell. Jake could tell, and he hated it.

“You know, you only had the one tattoo at the academy,” he said, groping at the inked flesh of your thigh. Jake watched your lip quiver and you inhaled as best you could with your position. “I also found your back, extremely enticing,” Cooke ran his hand down your back. You gritted your teeth and looked behind you at him, “Is that because you’re too much of a coward to attack women from the front?”

That must have really pissed him off because he came around and started to punch you.

Jake stood up hastily and made a beeline to the elevator, “I can’t watch this anymore.”

Tony jogged after him, “Lieutenant Seresin! Hangman-” The doors closed when he got to them.

******

Jake just needed to get away and he was going to Abby’s lab.

When he stopped on her floor, he moved quickly to her lab but nearly ran into Ducky in the process. “I’m sorry, Doctor.” “In a hurry, Jacob?” Hangman chuckled nervously, “Yeah.” “Needed a breather, my boy?” “Sir?” “I saw the videos as Abby was analyzing them.”

Jake felt bile rise again and this time he couldn’t stop it. Ducky noticed and quickly helped him get to a trash can.

“Let’s get you someplace cooler,” Ducky ushered Jake back to the elevator.

******

Jake sat on one of the metal tables in Autopsy.

His khaki uniform shirt was neatly folded next to him as he sipped his water. “Thank you, Ducky.” The doctor nodded, “Of course. It can’t be easy, seeing the one you love like that.” Jake coughed a little, trying to force the emotion out of his throat, “It’s not.”

Ducky watched his eyes fall to his shoes, he could tell he felt guilty. “It’s not your fault, Lieutenant.” “I hesitated, Ducky. And since I hesi-” His voice cracked, tears finally slipping past his lids. “Since I hesitated she's having to relive the worst day of her life.”

Jake set the bottle down and used his white undershirt to wipe his eyes, “How long have you been together?” “Over 15 years…” Ducky nodded in understanding, “High school sweethearts.” Jake huffed out a laugh, “Childhood friends to high school sweethearts to USNA sweethearts.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but why aren’t you married?” Jake shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess it’s because we were already acting like a married couple, just without the license and the rings. I never thought about it.” Jake laughed and shook his head.

It was silent for a moment.

“She asked me if I was ever gonna marry her, and I hesitated. It was a question she asks me all the time, but this was the only time it was during a fight. It was the only time that my answer really mattered. And I hesitated… She left and was in a vulnerable enough state to let herself get taken.”

Ducky leaned on the table next to Jake, “Cooke was going to get to her one way or another.” “But I led her right to him.”

Jake looked at the doctor next to him, allowing Ducky to see how broken and tired he was. “I’m scared, Doctor Mallard.” “That’s perfectly normal, Jacob.” “I'm a damn fighter pilot, I’m supposed to be level headed, and right now… my head doesn’t even feel like it’s on my damn shoulders.”

“It’s normal to feel like that, Jake,” Gibbs said, leaning on the doorframe.

He walked over to the pilot, “She’s strong. She’s gonna fight to get back to you.” Jake rose a brow, sniffling as wiped his eyes, “Did you see her, Agent Gibbs? He was using her like a punching bag…” “She will make it out of this.” “How do you know?” “My gut.”

That was oddly comforting to Jake.

“Do you know the mythology behind Medusa?” Ducky inquired after a beat of silence. Jake chuckled again, remembering the nights throughout your lives that you would stay up and talk about mythology of all sorts for fun. Sometimes when he was having trouble sleeping, you’d tell him the story of some hero in mythology and he’d fall right asleep.

He sighed, “We’ve stayed up hours talking about mythology. But if I’m honest, I never really heard the words she said…” Both men knew what Jake was getting at; he was listening to your voice and watching your expressions as you told the stories.

Ducky just smiled, “Medusa was a priestess for Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war strategy, and had sworn celibacy. However, Medusa had gained the attention of Poseidon, and they-” “Had sex in Athena’s temple,” Jake said as he sipped his water. “That much I remember.” Both Gibbs and Ducky laughed a little at that.

“When Athena found out, she punished Medusa for breaking her celibacy by turning her into a ‘beast’ with the ability to turn men to stone.” Jake nodded, “Yeah, Y/N has the tendency to do that, whether it be with fear or with her beauty.” Jake couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him seeing you on prom night for the first time, he froze on your parents doorstep.

Ducky and Gibbs smiled as they saw the look in Jake’s eyes as he thought about you.

“She was killed by the hero Perseus, beheaded. Then her head was then used to protect those who had it in their possession. The image of her head was used on shields, breast plates, and more recently, tattoos.” Jake remembered you mentioning that as he held your hand as you got it, “She mentioned that when she got it. She was getting it because she thought it looked cool, makes her feel powerful; but she likes the extra meaning.”

Ducky rested a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “I know it may not look like it, but she is protecting herself.” Jake took in a deep breath and nodded.

********

They walked back into the squad room, the group sitting at their desks and making conversation.

“Go home,” Gibbs told them.

It was late. They’d been out all day talking to Cooke’s neighbors, his parents, his boss and coworkers. And the last video was sent just after sundown.

They were tired.

“But we haven’t found-” “I know that, Ziva.” McGee spoke up, “Abby’s trying to analyze the room she is in so we know what to look for. I tried to triangulate where he sent the emails from, but he was using public wifi at an internet cafe.” “We have no direction to go, Boss,” Tony said, not being able to look at Jake.

Gibbs turned to DiNozzo, “Which is why I’m telling you to go home. Get some rest.” Ziva inhaled through her nose and interlocked her hands, “Gibbs, we don’t know what Cooke is going to do next. We have zero time to waste.” “If Cooke wanted her dead, he would have killed her already,” Jake said, jaw clenched with his eyes trained on the floor. “Believe me, I’m worried. Hell, I’m terrified out of my mind right now.-”

“But we can’t make progress without leads. Cooke lives in a studio apartment, his parents disowned him, and he’s not shown up to work in days, we don’t have anything,” Gibbs said, frustration in his tone. “Go home, get some sleep.” His team begrudgingly got their things, all avoiding Jake’s eyes.

“You should get some sleep too, Lieutenant.” Jake chuckled dryly as he shook his head, “I don’t think I can, sir.” He ran his thumbs along the khaki of his uniform.

Plus Maverick had left, needing to be back on base. The only way Jake was getting back to base was by cab. Maverick also gave him as much time off as he needed.

“But- uh, I better head back to base though.” “In what, Lieutenant?” Jake shrugged, “A cab, I guess.” Gibbs shook his head, “Stay with me, Jake. It’s late. And I doubt you want to be in that house right now.” Hangman looked down at the floor, huffing out his nose and tonguing his lip.

“I know how you feel.” Jake looked up, green eyes swimming with curiosity as his brows pinched together. “When I was in Desert Storm, I was informed that my wife and daughter were dead. It was hard to even walk into my house, let alone sleep there.” Jake’s eyes widened slightly and he swallowed as his jaw ticked, “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like…” Gibbs nodded, “And I hope you never have to.” He patted Jake's shoulder, “Come on.”

******

Gibbs gave Jake a pair of sweats to change into.

They went to his basement, neither being able to sleep.

“So, you’re a Marine?” Jake asked, sipping his bourbon. “What gave it away?” Gibbs asked, smiling a little bit as he sanded the wood of the boat. “Other than you being in Desert Storm?” Gibbs turned, wiping his hands on a damp towel, nodding. “Everything.”

The marine let out a breathy, amused chuckle. “You know a lot of marines?” “I was raised by one. My father retired when I was 4 as a Sergeant, he was 38.” Gibbs sipped his bourbon, “Why’d he retire?” “Wanted to be there for us. He had a close call, he didn’t want to risk not coming home to us. His 20 years were up, so he retired.”

Gibbs nodded, looking at the boat before looking back at Jake. “You wanna help?” Jake looked up from his glass and between the boat and Gibbs. “Sure, yeah.” He downed what was left and Gibbs gave him a sander.

*******

Since Jake didn’t need to report to base, he just freshened up and Gibbs took him by the base rental to get some clothes.

He had forgotten his keys in his locker and had to call someone to bring them to him at the house. That someone was Rooster.

Jake got out of Gibb’s car and saw Bradley on the porch. He was sitting on the bench, one fist held by the other as he looked at the ground. Maverick had gotten permission to relay what had happened to you to the squad, and everyone had taken it hard.

Rooster looked up when Hangman shut his car door.

They immediately met in a hug. “I’m so sorry, Jake.” “I’m scared, Rooster. I didn’t even-” Bradley pulled back and held Jake by the shoulders, “Hey, they’re gonna find her. Say it to her then.”

Gibbs came up beside them, nodding at Rooster before they went inside.

Jake didn’t want to be there longer than he needed to be so once it was opened, he booked it to the bedroom.

Bradley and Gibbs stood at the island in the kitchen. “They didn’t decorate much.” Rooster shrugged, looking around, “We aren’t here for long. They didn’t see the need to bring a whole lot.” “If you aren’t here for long, then why’d they rent the house?” Rooster chuckled, “They wanted their privacy.” Gibbs chuckled and glanced at his watch.

Hangman was taking longer than he said.

Gibbs went down the hall and found Jake sitting on the side of the bed. He had changed into a pair of his own sweatpants and a green t-shirt. Jethro knew what he was looking at, even with his back to him and from the door.

“Ask her.”

Jake chuckled humorlessly, “After this…” He shook his head, “I doubt she'll say yes.” “Ah, I don’t know about that.” Hangman sniffled, “I messed up…” Gibbs nodded, moving to sit next to him. “Yeah, you did, big time.” Jake shook his head.

“But this is how you fix it.” Gibbs pointed to the ring box. Jake swallowed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “I wanted to wait, ask her on my family's ranch where we had danced in my headlights to George Strait. I had this big plan. Just a private thing, but special…” “Plans change. Sometimes you have to adapt.” “Yeah.” “So ask her.”

Jake turned and looked at him, nodding at him. He stood from the bed and slid the box into his pocket. He grabbed the small stack of clothes next him and they left.

“Agent Gibbs?” Gibbs and Jake looked over at where Bradley was at his Bronco. “When you find her, give us a call?” The agent nodded, “Yeah, I’ll give ya a call.”

*******

When Jake and Gibbs got to NCIS, nothing had changed yet.

No new video. Abby was still working on room measurements, and no one had seen Cole.

Until McGee’s computer went off. Everyone’s head turned, and Jake felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “It’s Cooke.” “Pull the video up McGee.”

You were still hanging from the ceiling, Cole running his hands over your torso.

The camera was a little closer, and it showed the tear tracks on your face.

“You know,” you spoke, voice shaky and raw. “I’m gonna need a drink after this. Yeah, whiskey sounds really nice.” Cole just grunted and pulled you back against him. You whimpered a little bit, definitely feeling gross because of what was happening. “Or an Oscar. Maybe two.”

“The hell’s an oscar?” Tony asked out of reflex, glancing at Jake, but he was just as confused.

Cole grunted into your neck, “Shut up.” “Have you ever been to the delta?” He stayed silent but reached over to yank the rope and pull you up higher. You swallowed, glancing at the camera, “Me either, but I’ve been to the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I went there with Hangman on a weekend getaway after a rough deployment. My uncle has a cabin up there. God, that weekend was so fun. I love Jake, I love him so much…” You kept your eyes on the camera to make sure that Jake knew that you’d love him. The video stopped just as Cooke pulled your hair back, making you yelp.

Jake cleared his throat, nodded, “Yeah, that weekend was fun… Wait, we didn't go to the Sierras; we weren’t even in California, we were in Arkansas.” Gibbs caught Jake’s eyes and that’s when they realized it.

“She’s using phonetics!”

The team's eyes grew wide in realization. “Whiskey, Oscar, Delta, Sierra,” McGee repeated. “W O D S?” Ziva spelled it out. “She said two oscars,” Tony pointed out.

“She’s in the woods,” Gibbs finished for them. Jake thought back to what you said, “She put emphasis on ‘cabin’.” “DiNozzo, check to see if Cooke’s parents owned or still own a cabin.” “On it Boss.”

His phone rang, “Yeah, Gibbs.” “Gibbs, I ran the measurement of the room. She seems to be in a cabin. Based on the dimensions it’s a family cabin, probably two or three bedrooms.”

“Boss, it seems Cooke’s parents own a lot of cabins,” Tony said just as Gibbs picked up his phone. “Did you narrow it down to Virginia?” McGee asked, brow arched. “Yes, McGeek, I did. Mr. Cooke owns two hunting cabins and a-” “Family cabin, two or three bedrooms,” Gibbs cut in.

“Yeah, they haven’t used it in years. It’s in Fletcher State Park.” Gibbs got up, “Get your gear, let’s go.” Jake watched them all grab their things.

“Agent David,” he called out before she got too far. “Yes, Lieutenant?” Jake grabbed the clothes he brought. “Here,” he held them out. “She’s in nothing but a bra and underwear, give her these.” Ziva hesitated to take it. “Please.” She heard the desperation in his voice and took them.

She went over to Tony and Tim. “You know, despite the odds, we may not-” “We will find her alive,” she glanced at the fabrics in her hands. “We have to.”

*******

You yanked down on the rope, crying out a little at the pain in your dislocated shoulder. You had honestly been scared of losing feeling in your hands, but he gave you a bit of a break when he was finished hurting you for the day and left you locked in one of the bedroom closets.

Your toes barely scraped the ground and the rope wasn’t going anywhere. You shivered in the cold damp air of the cabin. Only being in your underwear, the chill soaked into your bones. You were certain that if you didn’t die of whatever Cooke was doing to you, you might die from the cold.

Hearing tires outside the cabin, your heart sped up. You could only huff out small breaths as you heard footsteps outside the door on the porch.

It was his routine to get you set up for his next sick video, film it, and then leave to send it. You’d calculated the time it took for him to get back and it was getting close for time to him to be back.

But then there was banging on the door, followed by a gruff voice yelling, “NCIS!”

Your entire body relaxed. You were safe.

“I’m in here! Help me!” You called back, coughing a little.

The door frame splintered when the door was kicked in. “Lieutenant Abbott?” The agent asked, pistol drawn as he walked over to you.“Yes,” you breathed out. “Where’s Cooke?” You shook your head, “I don’t know but he’ll be back soon.”

“Please get me down from here. It’s hard to breathe,” you begged, tears of relief falling down your cheeks. You jerked your neck towards where Cole had secured the rope, “Ease me down, please.”

McGee was quick to loosen the rope and Ziva helped steady you once your feet were on the ground. “Can you walk?” She asked, gently placing her hand on your sternum. “I think so. I might need a little help.” The agent simply nodded and helped you outside.

Once you were outside the uneven ground and rocks caused you to stumble. Tim moved to help Ziva steady you but he jostled your dislocated shoulder. “Shit!” McGee looked panicked, “What’s wrong?” You gritted your teeth, “My shoulder, it’s dislocated. I tried to break the rope and pulled it out.”

You chuckled a little at his expression, “Hurt like a bitch. Can either of you pop it back in?” Ziva nodded and leaned you against the car. She got a proper grip and looked at you, “Ready?” You swallowed and nodded. She exaggerated a few breaths and when you matched she popped it back in.

“Holy shit! Sweet baby Jesus..”

You pushed off the car and threw up; all the pain catching up to you with the adrenaline rush. Ziva came up and held your hair out of your face.

Spitting out the last of the saliva in your mouth, you thanked her under your breath.

A coat was wrapped around your shoulders. You looked to see Gibbs rubbing your shoulder, a small smile on his face.

His fatherly nature was present and it allowed you to be vulnerable, finally allowing yourself to outright sob; mostly in relief. You fell into his chest and he caught you, hands moving to rub your back. He mumbled into your hair, “You’re safe. I got ya. I got ya.”

The sound of gravel shifting caught their attention.

Gibbs felt you tense under his touch, “Is that him?” You nodded, whimpering a little bit. He looked at Ziva, “Stay with her, cover the front. DiNozzo, McGee, go find cover on the right, I’ll get cover on the left. You’ll know what to do.”

Carefully, Gibbs placed you in Ziva’s hold and she placed you in the car for both warmth and cover.

When Cole finally reached the cabin, Ziva raised her weapon. “Cole Cooke! NCIS! Get out of the car-” He threw it in reverse just to be stopped by Tony and Tim. He tried to get out and make a break for the tree line but Gibbs stepped out. He quickly surrendered and was handcuffed.

With you in a separate vehicle they made the trip back to NCIS.

********

Jake paced the squad room. Abby was up there with him, trying to keep him calm.

He was mumbling things to himself out of worry and Abby was following him, trying to grab him by the shoulders. “Jake. Jake. Ja-”

She finally got a hold of him, and ducked her head a little bit to make sure he was looking at her.

“Jake, they will find her. They’re the best there is. I’m sure they already found her and are either on their way here or to a hospital.” Jake frowned, “She hates hospitals, especially being in them alone.” Abby shook her head, “She isn’t alone. Gibbs wouldn’t let her be alone. Y/N is safe, I can feel it.” Jake just nodded, slowly calming down.

The elevators dinged and he was on his feet, nearly giving himself whiplash as he turned.

But when he did all he saw was red.

Cooke was being escorted out in handcuffs by Tony and McGee. Abby couldn’t hold Jake back as he swiftly made his way over and landed a punch to Cole’s jaw. Neither agent bothered to stop the pilot as the one punch sent Cooke to the ground.

But as he went in for more, Gibbs gripped Jake and pulled him away. He had to fight Jake back to the bullpen, but he got him there.

“That asshole just punched me!” McGee and DiNozzo huffed as they harshly yanked him off the ground. “You’re lucky that’s all he did.” They dragged him to interrogation.

Jake’s nostrils flared as he exhaled, his chest still broadened in his display of dominance over Cole.

However, the adrenaline wore off as quickly as it appeared and Jake felt tears line his eyes. He hung his head and fell into a chair. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, sobs leaving his lips. “I wasn’t there the first time, and I wasn’t there this time… I can’t believe I-” Abby cut him off, “Don’t finish that sentence, Jake. Because you are here, you were there the first time. She ran to you, you are her safe place.” “But-”

He was cut off the elevator ding again.

Glancing up, his heart soared in his chest.

There you were. Standing right before him in an old Longhorn sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. You were clean from the dirt and dried blood, having used the showers to clean up after any evidence was collected.

Your arm was in a sling and some butterfly closures adorned your forehead. But even then, you were still the most beautiful girl in the world to him.

*****

You walked quietly with Ziva out of the elevator, the weight of the conversation you had with her and Ducky still sitting on your shoulders.

The sound of a chair rolling back and hitting a desk caught your attention.

Looking up, you saw Jake and once again, you were crying; both from relief and the realization you almost never saw him again.

You moved as fast as you could to get to him, slamming your beaten body into his when you got to him. His arms carefully wrapped around you, obviously not wanting to hurt you. But when your soft crying exhales hit his chest, he all but scooped you into his arms carefully wrapping your legs around his torso.

You winced a little when his arm tightened around your waist. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized. You pulled your head out of the crook of his neck, shaking it lightly before looking into his eyes, “It reminds me this isn’t just another dream.”

Jake closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks as he rested his forehead against yours. “Jacob, if you don’t-” He cut off your sentence with a kiss, it was slow but no less passionate. He was gentle, the arm wrapped around your shoulders bringing you closer to him.

Ziva, Gibbs, and Abby watched on with smiles. Tim and Tony walked in mid conversation, but stopped seeing the intimate moment happening in the squad room.

You had to pull back for air at some point. And when you did, you rested your forehead against Jake’s, both of your eyes closing with the contact.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes shot open and were met with Jake’s green ones.

You had said it at the same time.

A grin broke out on your face, “I hope you aren’t just askin’ me that-” Your tease was cut off by Jake, “I’m not. I-I had this big plan. I wanted to take you out to the pasture we danced in on prom night our senior year.” You giggled a little, “That would have been nice.”

Biting your lip you played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I had a lot of time to think over the past few days,” you said quietly, your breath ghosting over his lips. He nudged your nose with his. “So have I. And I’m sorry I never asked you sooner.” “Let me finish, will ya?” You chuckled lightly and he did as well. “I realized that proposing, nowadays, is a two way street. I could have asked you at any time and you would have said ‘yes’. We’ve been together since we were 15, Jake. Friends since we were born. We should have gotten married right out of high school, but we were scared of what our future held during the Academy and then flight school, then through separate deployments. It was too much to worry about at once, and we didn’t know what was gonna happen.”

You licked your lips and inhaled a little, “But I can’t go another damn day without legally being your wife. Those bitches at the bar aside. I just, I want others to know that you're mine and that I’m yours.” He nodded, “Okay, let’s do it.” You giggled and kissed him, “Alright cowboy.”

He sat you down and pulled out the ring box.

“Wait, you had that this whole time?” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, “Like I said, I had this whole plan. I was gonna ask you after we got some time off when we got back to North Island.” You laughed, “You perfectionist.” You peck his lips and he slid the ring on your finger.

You heard a squeal from behind you and you both looked around to see the entire Gibbs team smiling at you and Jake.

“Thank you, for getting her back to me. All of you.”

*********

thank you guys for making it to the end! i hope this crossover was accurate

i have plenty of ‘x readers’ in the drafts so if you want more let me know

and my asks are open, feel free to request what you would like to see next

feedback is greatly appreciated!

tags <3: @milesdickpic​ 

<3 love ya babes

[kvrokasaa]

Fake Love

cw: smut, suggestive themes, angst, no comfort, no pronouns but implied afab!reader, drunk!characters, multiple fandom

wc: 869

The call you've been dreading, and hoping for, finally came. Always at the same time too, in the middle of the night.

His command was simple but authoritative. Come over and show him what he's been waiting for. You could tell by the way he talked that he's drunk.

You should've expected that though. He never calls unless he gets intoxicated, only ever wanting you when he can't remember.

The devils are out and partying as you drive to his place. You wish that you could just turn around and stay home. Maybe you could drink a glass of wine, no the whole bottle, because this would only break your heart.

No matter how much you try to deny him, he always comes back.

You pull into his driveway, no matter how many times you come to his house, it never ceases to amaze you. Your engine stops and you step out of your car.

To keep you satisfied he bought you a car, a nice one. Some might interpret this as a sugar daddy situation, but you know that would be better than the situation you're in right now. You wouldn't even classify yourselves as friends with benefits. Not even flings.

"You're here!" His eyes were tired, but not from lack of sleep. You could see and hear the alcohol he's had.

You try to muster a smile, but you can't even fake one. You can't even look him in the eyes without wanting to cry, but you pull through your emotions. You muster up the strength to look him in the eyes.

"I missed you baby!" He opened his arms and leaned in for a hug.

You pulled back but he still managed to hug you, a tight one too. His nose touched your neck as he left feather-light kisses along your neck.

Clothes were thrown to the floor, leaving a trail to his bedroom. His kisses were deep but lacked the passion you wished for. His touch was light but still left the scars you wished would heal. The moans were real; and although you wished they were fake, they lacked the love you've always wished for.

He kissed your thighs, sucking small hickies onto them along with small bites. He just gave you the same orgasms he always gave you, although they were always great, they lacked the passion, the love, and the tender moments you wish for.

He made his way up to your chest, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. "I love you, baby." His eyes were closed as he spoke the words you've always wished he would say. But tears still pricked your eyes because you knew the words weren't real. He would never say these words to you if he were sober.

He never acknowledges your presence when he's sober. It's as if you're not even there; he doesn't text, call, or look your way when you pass.

He sees your tears and pouts. He kisses away the tears on your cheeks, but that doesn't stop them.

His pout was real, the sadness he feels when he sees your tears is real, but you didn't know this. Of course you didn't. You can't look past his playboy tendencies.

The night was long as your naked bodies mingled together; his thrusts were deep, your whines were true, and your nails down his back were painful. But he didn't mind the pain, he liked the feeling, he liked knowing that your mark is what made other girls stay away. You owned him and you didn't even know.

As the climax from both of your bodies came, he laid his body down next to yours. His arms wrapped around your body and his head on your chest. He snuggled close to your body, the warmth from both of you radiating off each other.

"Remind sober me how much I love you, yeah?" You felt the tears coming on again. You would, you would tell him what he said, remind him what drunk him does. But you don't have the strength to do this. You can't, and you won't.

"Yeah," your lie came out easy, easier than you expected. You didn't want your lie to come out this easy, but it's been easy since you've met him. You've had to lie to your friends and family about this man.

Morning came quicker than usual, maybe its because you're not alone. You haven't shut your eyes, you haven't slept.

You left his arms and his bed, leaving him in his slumber. You were still nice enough to bring him a cup of water and some aspirin for his impending hangover. But you weren't nice enough to stay and remind him.

You left his home and drove back to yours. Your sigh was long as you opened his messages. You were close to hitting the block button, but you didn't have the strength to do it, not yet.

Your eyes closed as you laid back on your bed. The tears staining your cheeks came out full force. You couldn't stop this cycle, even if you tried.

Chigiri, Otoya, Karasu, Oliver, Sae, Rin, Reo, Nagi, Kaiser, Atsumu, Kageyama, Suna, Oikawa, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, bonten Mikey, Wakasa

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male Reader

Summary: Simon and his husband have a fight that makes (Y/N) leave in the middle of the night for a drive, unbeknownst to Simon he gets kidnapped along the way, as Simon rushes to save (Y/N) he discovers many hidden things about his husband that no one was supposed to know.

Disabled reader, wears a leg brace due to a work accident.

Warnings: Cod typical violence, reader with military past, miscomunication, kidnapping, skiing accidents.

word count: 2 K

+18 themes, minors do not interact

Simon placed his glass down harsher then he should, juice spilled over the edge of it. “I am not being reckless.” He said. 

(Y/N) glanced over from where he was cleaning up the kitchen, Simon had cooked so (Y/N) always insisted on cleaning, the other way around applied as well, one cooked one cleaned. 

“You were shot 3 times and are now on leave until you are good enough to go back, one of the bullets missed a main artery by a few millimeters.” (Y/N) didn’t bother hiding the clear anger in his voice. “I could have lost you, Simon.” 

Simon looked away. “I did what I had to, everyone got back safe.” 

“But you didn’t, you would go on the next mission right now if Price called you in, I made my peace with that, I will always wait and you know that but 3 bullets, Simon.” He said. 

Simon winced at the use of his name, (Y/N) rarely ever used his actual name over any shortened version of his name or pet name. “I get you are angry.” 

“Oh do you?” (Y/N) asked as he placed things away. “Because I recall you almost breaking your arm and being sent on forced leave by Price just last month because he was concerned about you.” 

“The mission-” “-wasn’t that bad, I get it, more than you realise. I-” (Y/N) interrupted only to get interrupted himself. “-You don’t know anything about being out in the field, you work a desk job because your youth was filled with spoiled trips to austria to ski in the mountains and you got too reckless as a young adult.” Simon said, not thinking about his words. 

(Y/N) looked down at his leg, the brace on it and how the injury still hurt, it wasn’t that story but not Simon nor Ghost would ever find out about the true reason for it, that mission was classified beyond anything most people would ever see, a mission gone right despite the casualties and soldiers who were forced to retire early, (Y/N) included. 

Seething hot anger flashed through (Y/N) but he took a breath. “I am going for a drive, we need milk.” (Y/N) didn’t look back, knowing Simon, his Simon was already regretting his words, this conversation or rather this fight was far too common for the both of them to have, everytime Simon came home with too bad of an injury or from being too reckless. Price always called him, always told him how the mission had gone.

(Y/N) grabbed his keys and jacket before getting into the car, pulling his injured leg in, it would never fully heal, it would always ache on good days and be too painful to even touch or look at on bad days. He had more bad days than good days. 

(Y/N) drove to the gas station across town, without really needing to, they didn’t even need milk but that was always the excuse, always the reason. (Y/N) usually made some kind of cake with it the next day, if he could walk. 

As (Y/N) excited the car and filled it up, a van pulled up besides his car, on the pump on the other side, he didn’t pay attention, simply finished pumping the gas before he looked to the side where a man was standing with a gun, pointed straight at him. (Y/N) scowled and held his hands up. “If you want my wallet I don’t have one, only my card.” 

“Get in the van, Mister Riley.” Simon and him had gotten married earlier in the year, something small at the courthouse. 

“No.” (Y/N) said as he knew he could take a bullet wound, not that he wanted to. It would drastically decrease his chances of survival. 

He felt a gun pointed at his back. “My partner didn’t say you had a choice.” 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, he couldn’t handle both with his leg after that drive, it would not end well, he would get killed, but going along with them would also get him hurt. He made a quick decision and nodded. “Alright, please don’t hurt me.” He whimpered, fully satisfied with how convincing it sounded. The men placed a hood over his face and cuffed his hands before putting him in the van and taking off. 

‘Okay, people taken to a secondary location always have a decreased chance of surviving, however they are most likely enemies of Simon who don’t know about me… Depending on how many there are I can get out… hopefully.’ (Y/N) thought as he started fake crying and whimpering, he needed to act scared even if he wasn’t being watched. 

Simon knew something was wrong when half an hour passed and (Y/N) hadn’t come back home, though for the sake of making sure, he waited 10 more minutes before calling his husband, no matter what, no matter how angry (Y/N) always answered, Simon never wanted his past or an enemy catching up again, he couldn’t handle losing more people. Not again, not like his family. 

When it kept ringing and went to voicemail, Simon cursed and called Price. It was picked up quickly. “Ghost, what the hell do you want it near midnight.” Price said. 

“(Y/N) isn’t answering the phone.” 

Price cursed on the other end. “How many minutes since you last saw him?” 

“40 but he should have been back between 10 and 20 minutes ago, we had a fight, Price, I… I was… I can’t…” 

“I know Simon, I will contact Laswall, see what we can do on our end, you can’t do much on your own, you are still injured, so stay steady and have your phone ready.” Price hung up. 

Simon just sat still for hours, staring at his phone before it rung, (Y/N)’s face and toothy smile showed up. Simon lunged at his phone and picked up. “(Y/N) I-” “-I am afraid this isn’t your husband.” A voice interrupted, someone Ghost was too familiar with. 

“What do you want?” Ghost asked. 

“I will send you my7 location where you will show up, alone and unarmed, if you get that pretty little team of yours involved I will slice your husband's throat and send you a video before letting the rats feed on his corpse.” The man said.

Ghost growled. “Fine.” He said. 

“Don’t do it Si!” Ghost could hear in the background of the call only for (Y/N) to cry out in pain. Simon’s blood ran cold as the call hung up. He just needed to get there. 20 minutes passed and he got a location, a factory a few hours out of town. He got into his car and took off, not even thinking to inform the team. 

His emotions were numb and he wasn’t wearing his mask, yet he kept going, he couldn’t stop, if there was ever even a chance of saving (Y/N), of not making the same mistake again, he would take it, he would always take it. Their fight played in his mind over and over again, torturing him as he drove, he vaguely registered the music in the radio as something upbeat. 

It was early morning when he came to the old factory, he vaguely registered the open door and vehicles parked outside as he walked straight up the door and inside, to his shock, bodies upon bodies of people laid spread out as though a fight had broken out, blood covered large areas of the factory floor. His blood turned ice cold as he ran inside, hoping to find (Y/N) alive only to find a chair with robe by the back, loosely tied together, whoever did this underestimated the prisoner. 

Simon pulled his phone out as it began vibrating. He answered. “Ghost here.” 

“... Ghost, come to base, (Y/N) is here… there is something you need to know. He is alive, injured but alive.” 

Simon let go of a deep breath. “I… how did he even get there… car probably, erm, I will get there.” The base was a few hours away. He hung up and drove in silence to the base, barely even registering anything. He was confused but also relieved, the only man he had ever loved enough to fully see Simon, to make Ghost into Simon again, had somehow escaped and was at his base, the base no one was supposed to know about. Things weren’t adding up. 

He drove onto base and got out, not remembering a mask, not even thinking about a goddamn mask. 

He walked past a confused Soap and Gaz, ignoring them gaping at them as he walked to Price’s office, knocking before he entered. In one of the chairs, a heavily beaten up and bruised (Y/N) sat and Price, with a dark look in his eyes, was sitting behind his desk. “I will let you talk.” Price said and left. 

Simon sat down and looked to (Y/N) who refused to meet his gaze. “What happened?” Simon asked. 

(Y/N) winced before looking ahead. “4 years ago I was in a skiing accident that left me paralysed in both my legs, it took me a year and experimental surgery to get feeling back in them though one is permanently broken.” (Y/N) began.

“Yes I know this..” Simon said. 

“It wasn’t hobby skiing. I was a soldier in a mission I can’t tell anyone about, not even my most trusted person, 2 teams of 20 people each, including a team of 3 were dispatched to take out a base of enemies that were holding high value targets.” (Y/N) didn’t look at Ghost. “Out of the 43 people, 10 of us made it out alive, the place was rigged with trap after trap, I was amongst the many injured on the way back, we successfully managed to get 4 out of 6 hostages with us.” 

“You were forced to retire.” Simon said and looked away. “Were you reckless?” 

(Y/N) shook his head. “No, I wasn’t, we were safe as we could be, yet I was paralysed, nearly died.” (Y/N) sighed. “I am sorry Si, for never saying this or telling you anything but I couldn’t, sure I could talk bootcamp and my various deployments but after I got onto a task force every single mission became confidential, much like your missions and then with my forced retirement, it just wasn’t something I looked back on with you. I lost a lot of good friends that week, a lot of really close allies. I had been out for a year and a half before we even met.” 

Simon looked away. “Was anything else right? Or has everything been a lie?” 

“You met my actual family, my mother does love you and even they don’t know much about my work, hell, they think after bootcamp and my deployments that I enlisted in a private security company in austria and on my off day, I got into an accident.” He said. “Except my cousin, she knows the truth because of her work.” 

“Right, the medic, understandable…” Simon said and looked to the man he once trusted above all else. Someone who had promised to be there for him always, no matter what. His whole perception of the man had been a lie. “You made me teach you self defence.” Simon mused. 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah… that day is among my fondest, you wanting me to be able to protect myself with you away, it did actually help last night.” (Y/N) said. “I wouldn’t have gotten out this lucky if it wasn’t for it… I am sorry for lying, Simon but you must understand, I didn’t have much of a choice.” 

Simon took his hand and gave him a small smile. “For better or for worse.” 

(Y/N) leaned over and kissed Simon's cheek. “Your captain is a real scary man.” He said and chuckled. “Laswell had to clear me for him, she found my discharge papers.” 

“Hmm, honourable discharge with a file that is mostly redacted.” Simon said. “Sounds like my future file.” 

“Well I do like the sound of that, planning for a future with me, eh?” (Y/N) said. 

Simon smiled a bit more. “You are the only reason I want to grow old.” 

(Y/N)’s smile softened. “I love you too, Si.”

[absurdthirst]

His {Dark!Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 24. 6k

Warnings: NON-CON/Dub-Con, attempted suicide, murder for hire, hits, drugging, kidnapping, bondage, imprisonment, oral sex (male receiving), collaring, pet play, sex toys, punishment, overstimulation, aftercare, panic attacks, gun play, anal play, analingus, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/forced pregnancy, 'daddy', mentions of past abuse, domestic violence, attempted sexual assault

Comments: When you cannot do what you desperately want to, you hire Dave York to do it for you. Contracted to kill you, Dave decides that you have something to live for. Him.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains dark themes of attempted suicide, murder for hire, kidnapping, imprisonment, non-con themes 🚨🚨

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You had promised yourself that this was it. No more. No more living in constant pain, the weight of your loneliness crushing every aspect of your life. Your fingertips brushed across the cold metal of the revolver sitting in front of you. You’d never wanted the gun in the first place, your boss had insisted you go through the training and you didn’t want to argue with him or admit that carrying a gun made you feel uncomfortable. 

And a few hours and a gallon of vodka later, you were ready. A heartfelt note that was written and you’d tied up as many loose ends as you possibly could.

Silent acid rain fell harshly down your cheeks as you attempted to steady your breathing, lifting the unbelievably heavy gun and  attempting to bring it up and towards your temple. 

You couldn’t. No matter how hard you try. ‘Another thing I’ve failed at,’ you think to yourself as you push the gun away from you. Before reaching out and grabbing at the vodka bottle next to you and taking a large gulp of the burning liquid. 

Dave grunts as he shuffles through his emails, all of them boring him. The same bureaucratic bullshit and red tape. All of it is meaningless. Give him a target and an objective, problem solved. He’s good at what he does, though not everyone would brag about wet work. So his day job at the DIA keeps him covered. Looking up at the slight rap on his office door, he sees the assistant from three floors down standing there nervously, a file in her hand although her name escapes him. “Yes?”

You sheepishly make your way into his office, avoiding eye contact as you outstretch your hand with the file in and wait for him to take it from you. You knew exactly what kind of work Dave York did and figured that as long as he got the cash he would happily provide his services for you.

“Thanks.” Dave takes the file and nods, setting it down on his desk to look at in just a few minutes. Wanting to finish up the email he was writing before he got distracted with something else.

“You’re welcome,” you murmur before immediately turning on your heel and rushing out of his office. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way out of the building and towards your car. It was done. All you needed to do was wait for the email that would instruct you on how to pay and then he would either get one of his guys to carry out the job or do it himself.

A phone call distracts him, making it nearly an hour before he finally picks up the file and flips open the unassuming manila front. Frowning when he reads the very official looking report, but there is the glaring lack of signature from Phil Hopkins or the fact that this kind of request is not in a folder marked classified. Growling, Dave lurches to his feet, pissed off at the fucking game that is apparently being played and quickly locks his office to march down to the third floor to ask you what the fuck this is.

**

The unexpected banging on your front door makes you jump. You slowly rise onto your feet and tiptoe across to the door and peer out through the peephole. Dave York. Furiously clutching onto what you assume is your file and mouthing what you also assume is expletives as he waits for you to open the door. You take a large inhale before reaching across to the chain and unlocking the door. “Mr York,” you say quietly as he glares at you.

“What the fuck is this?” Dave demands, using his shoulder to shove his way inside your small apartment. This conversation doesn’t need to happen in the open. He whirls around and glares at you. “What the fuck are you doing? Playing some kind of prank?”

You take a few steps back and try to ignore that shiver that rips it way through your body. “No,” you say, attempting to keep your voice as steady as possible, “You provide a service and I would like to pay for that service.”

  “This is an order for an execution.” He snarls, ripping open the file and shoving the paper in your face. “With your name on it!”

“Yes, I am fully aware of what it is,” you say with a shrug, “I filed the paperwork. I am the one requesting your services.“ You walk over to the kitchen counter and take out two glasses, pouring a small amount of amber liquid in both. “I can’t do it myself, so I need someone to do it for me.” 

“This isn’t a sanctioned hit.” He points out, pointing to where your boss’s signature is missing. His tone eases slightly, hearing what you just said about not being able to do it yourself. 

 “I mean it’s technically not a hit either, right?” You swallow the whiskey in one large gulp before sliding his glass across to him. “I’ll pay whatever. I just need your help.”

 “Why?” Dave drops his hand and eyes you suspiciously. “Why do you want me to kill you?”

“I told you. Because I can’t do it myself.”

“Why do you want to die?” Dave presses, stepping closer to you, his gaze boring into yours.

You swallow hard. Hating how much his mere presence alone is affecting you, “Does the reason why really matter?”

His jaw tightens and he doesn’t answer you, just waiting for you to tell him. You will. Or he won’t move.

You stare back at his face, watching as his jaw rolls and his brows furrow. “I’m depressed,” you admit quietly, “Nothing works for me and I’m sick of surviving because I don’t have the energy to try and live anymore.”

Seconds tick by and Dave watches your face. Watching for any sign of second thoughts or hesitation. You had said you couldn’t do it, which means you’ve tried. “What did you try?”

Turning away from him you walk across to your small sofa and take a seat, “My gun. I just couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. It just felt too heavy in my hands every time I tried to lift it towards my head.” The gun is on the coffee table, seemingly mocking you.

Dave picks the gun up, examining it and weighing it in his hand before he flips it in his grip and points it at you. Watching you for any indication that you are going to flinch.

An odd feeling floods your tummy as he points your gun at you, not quite fear but not quite relief either. Maybe anticipation? You can’t work it out, but you stay still, your eyes focused on his as he keeps the gun pointed at you.

You don’t move. Your eyes don’t flicker, you don’t even blink. Dave recognizes the darkness that seems to swirl in the depths of your orbs. He’s been in that void before. Lowering the gun, he nods. “Fine.” He agrees. “You will go about your life. Take care of what you need to. I won’t tell you when, but it will be within the next two weeks.” He tells you.

“Thank you, would you like me to pay you now?” You ask as he takes a few steps towards the door. “I’m grateful that you’ll take this job, Mr. York. I know it’s not what you’re used to dealing with.”

“I’ll get my payment from you later.” Dave assures you, turning back towards you with a small smirk. “Don’t you worry.”

You lock the door behind him, and make your way back to the sofa. Sitting quietly and trying to gauge your feelings, instead that numbness you’ve grown accustomed to rears its ugly head and you decide to make your way to bed. “I can handle a few more days of this,” you murmur to yourself as you succumb to your slumber.

Dave studies you. He studies everything about you. Where you go, what you do. Checking your spending and your internet browsing habits. The foods you like and of course, the medicines you take. Learning more about you than he ever knew about his ex-wife. Maybe that was why she divorced him, but still, he studies you like he would any target. Thoroughly. Then he starts to plan.

A week passes by and nothing happens, no email for payment and you only catch one glimpse of Dave at the office. Surrounded by a bunch of his team, so you don’t act on the urge to approach him. He said within two weeks. ‘Any day now,’ you promise yourself in the mirror, as you get ready to brush your teeth.

Dave kept himself out of sight on purpose but he’s kept watch over you. Wanting to see if you would indulge in any vices. Intriguing him beyond his belief. Most people begged to live, crying and pissing themselves as they begged him for mercy. You begged to die. It fascinated him, you fascinated him. 

It was only as you pulled into a space at work that you realized that may have been the last time you ever drove to work. The same unknown feeling from the other day began to spread throughout your tummy as you stepped out of your car, walking rapidly towards the building and eventually sliding into the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors had closed and the elevator started rising that you realized who you were standing next to. He was listening to one of his co-workers ramble on about the car they had just purchased. His face was as emotionless as always, a blank expression hiding all of his thoughts as he mindlessly nodded every now and then to indicate he was still listening. It is only as you start to look away that you notice his eyes flash over towards your direction.

Dave barely listens to Steve brag about his car, obviously going through some sort of midlife crisis. Aware of you and wondering if you are nervous since there is only one day left before his two week deadline. “Ready for the weekend?” Dave asks you once Steve shuts up for half a second.

“Yes,” you say without skipping a beat, “Are you, Mr York?”

“I am.” He nods, smirking slightly. “Big plans this weekend.” He pauses. “What do you plan on doing?”

“I think it’ll be a quiet one,” you reply with a shrug, eyes flickering around the elevator to see if anyone else is paying attention, “Either way, I'm ready for it. What about you?” 

“Everything’s ready.” He nods. “Just gotta get the work week done. Am I right?” He chuckles quietly, aware that your body just tensed slightly. It’s like a game of cat and mouse where he’s assured of catching the mouse at the end.

“You’re right,” you reply with a weak smile. He still hasn’t requested payment or let you know where to wire transfer the fee to and it makes you feel uneasy, “Oh before you rush off, I need to discuss an invoice with you before the end of the day… is that ok?”

Dave shakes his wrist, pushing the sleeve of his suit and shirt back to look at his watch. “Can’t right now, I’m busy.” He murmurs. “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Of course. Just let me know when we can discuss it.” You slide out of the elevator on your floor and don’t look back, almost certain you can feel his eyes on you up until the doors close again.

Work drags on, the only thing keeping Dave occupied is making sure the final pieces are in place. To make sure that no one questions your absence. No one goes looking for you. When he’s satisfied that nothing will be traced back to him, he leaves his office like it is any other day and sets on the elevator to leave.

You sigh as you look at the time, Dave hadn’t contacted you in regards to payment like he had said he would and you start to wonder if he was just playing with you, and had no intentions to carry out the job as he said he would.

After clicking the elevator button a few times and growing impatient you decide to take the stairs, wanting to get up to his office before he leaves and finalise the payment. The entire floor is in darkness and it becomes obvious that he has already left for the day. You slowly make your way back downstairs and collect your belongings from your office, you’re not sure whether you want to scream or cry or both. But instead you pull on your coat and start to make your way home, stopping off at a drive thru to grab some dinner on your way.

The phone that Dave had put in your car when he left shows him your location. Making him smirk as he sees the dot stopped at a local fast food place you seem to like. His own burner programmed with the phone’s number, he hits talk and waits for you to discover the phone when it starts to ring. 

An unknown ringtone starts to play out from the passenger side door, you raise your eyebrow as you glance over to work out what it’s coming from. Your phone is in your bag, so you know it’s not coming from that. You reach over to the car door pocket and pull out a phone you don’t recognise. “Hello,” you whisper quietly into the device after accepting the call.

“Go to your bank and withdraw all of your money.” Dave orders you, grinning at your hushed tone. “Ask for large bills. Make sure you mention that you want to try your luck in Atlantic City.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, unsure why you felt as though you needed to address him as such. “Then what?”

“Go home.” He instructs you. “Write a note saying that you are sorry, but you had to. Just that you had to. Nothing else. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. York.”

He hangs up the phone and you make your way to your bank. Rolling your eyes at the amount of people ahead of you in the line, you gently tap your foot and wait to be called forward. 

“How can I help you today?” The woman from behind the desk asks without looking up at you. 

“I’d like to make a withdrawal,” you say with a polite smile, “I’d actually like to withdraw everything from my checking account.”

She asks for your bank card and your ID which you hand over immediately, and confirm the details she requires to pull up your account. 

“Are you sure you’d like to withdraw everything?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, I-uh-I have a trip to Atlantic City booked and figured that I’d try my luck.” 

“You have over $60,000 in here… that’s a lot to risk?” She says and you confirm once again that you’d like to withdraw it all. She whittles off some stuff about needing her manager to come over and go down into the vault to retrieve this much money and you sign the paperwork handed your way.

Dave lets himself into your apartment walking around the space and getting a sense of who you are before he steps into your bedroom, opening your closet door. He has about forty minutes before you come home and he needs to get some things. 

You carry the bag of money to your car as quickly as you can, glad to finally be out of there and start your engine the second your self belt is fastened. The drive to your apartment takes longer than usual as the downtown traffic begins to build up, you pick at the cold fries in the bottom of the bag as you pull up into your apartment complex's parking lot. Deciding to sit for a few minutes and contemplate what is going to happen next, eventually you reach over, pick up your bag, the bag of money and the cellphone that Dave had left in your car before going into your apartment.

Inside the apartment, there is a small bag packed. Things that will make it look like you had taken yourself on one last hooray before ending it all. Or disappearing. The point was so that no one would look for you, since Dave didn’t plan on having a body discovered.

You enter your apartment and place the bag of cash on your counter. You’re unsure whether you’re supposed to inform Dave of when you’re back to your apartment or just wait for him to call the phone again, so you just make yourself a drink. You pour yourself a large glass of juice and take a generous sip and sit yourself down at the kitchen table.

Dave is in your bedroom. Sensing your impatience, your unease with no direction. Smirking as he hears you move around. Pulling out the burner phone, he punches in a text. ‘Write the note and then go lay down on your bed.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Getting up and walking over to the drawer that your stationary sits in, you reach in and get a notepad and pen and write the note the exact way he instructed. 

Finishing off the juice, you place the glass under running water and then onto the draining board and then walk down the hall to your bedroom. Comfortably climbing under the covers and waiting for your next instructions.

Dave can move quietly when he needs to. Plenty of time spent slinking through places where if he made a sound, he died. And he was still here, so apparently he was pretty good at what he did. Stepping out of the bathroom, Dave has the hypodermic needle already filled and in his hand. Creeping towards the bed and when he is close enough, his hand covers your mouth as you gasp and your eyes shoot open. “Goodbye, sweetheart.” Dave growls, sticking the needle into your neck and injecting you with the clear liquid in the syringe.

You awaken abruptly to the feeling of his hand pressing down on your mouth, and his eyes boring down into yours. You have no time to speak or react before the sharp stinging of a syringe penetrates your skin. ‘Goodbye, sweetheart’ is all he says as the medicine immediately takes effect.

**

The first thing you notice when you slowly awaken from your haze is your head. A painful banging in the back of it, from what you assume is because of whatever he gave you. 

The second thing you realize is that you’re still alive, still here, the drug didn’t work? Or did it? Did he plan on drawing this out? Having some fun with how he was planning on ending your life.

You attempt to move but your arms are restrained in soft cuffs, tied to the metal frame of the bed you’re currently laying in. 

“Where am I?” you softly mumble before falling back into unconsciousness.

Dave hears the slight clink of the cuffs as you stir, checking on you to find that you've already drifted back off into unconsciousness again. Letting him smirk down at you, admiring your body as you are secured to the bed. Watching your chest move as you breathe for another moment before turning back around and leaving the room that he had prepared for you. Knowing you need more time to let the drugs wear off before he explains what will happen now.

The banging in your head seems to have intensified when you come to again. The dryness of your mouth makes you groan as you attempt to move your arms again, temporarily forgetting you’d been restrained. ‘Mr. York,’ you croak out barely above a whisper as you take in your surroundings. The room is nice, furnished and has a large flat screen tv nailed to the wall. You don’t think it’s a lived-in bedroom due to the lack of personal touches.

"You're awake." Dave appears in the doorway, a cup with a straw in his hand as he watches you look around. Confusion paints your face and he would chuckle as you struggle to put the pieces together. Striding over to the bed, he sits down on the edge and holds up the straw to your lips. "Drink. It'll help the cotton mouth and the headache."

You take the straw between your lips and begin to suck, staring at him the entire time, trying to gauge his next steps. “I’m alive.” You say after a few moments. “Mr. York… Why am I still alive?”

He smirks, pulling the cup away and setting it down on the nightstand next to the bed. “It would be a waste to let you die.” He coos, hand caressing your face and he shamelessly slides it down your chest to squeeze your bare tit. You haven’t quite discovered that you are tied to the bed completely bare, stripped down while you were unconscious and on display for him. “At least right now.” His thumb rolls your nipple between his fingers and he tugs on it.

“What are—-?” You breathe out as he palms your tit. “I don’t understand.” He continues to drag his hand around your bare body as you attempt to get a grip on what’s happening.

“You’re mine.” Dave does chuckle at the way your frown creases your brow and you tug on the padded cuffs he had wrapped around your wrists. He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself on the start metal ones or cut your skin on the zip ties he could use. “I’ve decided to keep you as my personal pet.” He slides his hand down to dip a finger into your folds. “Give you a reason to live.”

“Why would you do that? Why me?” You ask, confusion rising steadily in your veins. “I don’t understand, Mr. York.”

“Sir.” Dave corrects you, having enjoyed the way you demure to him when you would bring him files or when you had seen him around the office. “You don’t really want to die.” He tells you, pushing a finger inside your cunt and watching your hips jerk up in shock. “You just need to be given a purpose, a focus.” He hums when he feels your walls clench around his finger. “Satisfying me will become your purpose. You’ll live for my pleasure.”

The moan that leaves your mouth as a thick finger penetrates you is dripping with sin. How long had it been since you had been touched like this? You don’t even know, but you have to silently chide yourself for the way your hips silently start begging him for more.

“That’s it.” Dave hums, smirking in triumph at the way you respond to his touch. “You just need to let me control you. You’ll find out that you want to live.” His finger curls up inside you, pressing against a spongy portion of your walls.

“Oh, Dave,” you moan as he rubs that spot inside of you. Your head is still banging, and you have absolutely no idea how to react to what he’s saying but the way he’s pulling pleasure from you is like nothing you’ve ever known. “Please don’t stop.”

Dave chuckles, pumping his fingers into your now dripping cunt until he feels your thighs start to shake. Then he pulls them free, watching your eyes open in confusion and frustration.

You whimper are the loss of his fingers, so close yet so far from reaching that high he had you teetering over the edge from. “Please.” You beg a few times as his eyes bore into yours.

Reaching up, Dave smacks your cheek with his wet fingers. “Hush.” He chides, shaking his head. “Right now, you don’t deserve to cum. You were going to let me kill you, remember?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir,” you murmur as he gently rubs your jaw.

“Now, angel-“ Dave shifts, standing up and reaching for the buckle of his belt. “You’re going to be a good girl and let me fuck your throat.” He’s been thinking about your might ever since that night in your apartment. Jerking off as he thinks about your lips wrapped around him.

You nod to let him know that you’re listening as you watch him undress himself, slowly pushing his pants and boxers down in one go. The gasp that leaves your mouth as his cock bounces free makes him chuckle as you take in the heft of him.

He smirks as he wraps his hand around his cock, squeezing it and slowly stroking himself as he climbs on the bed and shuffles up to straddle your chest. “You’re going to gag, but do not bite me.” He growls in warning.

‘How on earth am I going to fit ALL of that in my mouth?’ You think to yourself as he taps his cock against your cheek. He drags the head of his cock across your cheeks before thrusting inside with little to no care about your comfort. 

The first sense of wet heat has Dave groaning, pushing his hips forward until you’re sputtering. Pulling back for a moment so he can let you take a breath before his cock pushes deep again. Eager to train you for what he likes, a spurt of precum hits your tongue and he twitches when you swallow around him.

You wish your hands were free so you could hold on to him as he fucked into your mouth. Every thrust pushing past your tonsils and making you gag around the thick length of him. He spat out some praise? Degradation? You’re not sure. You couldn’t make it out over the sounds slipping through your mouth.

“Fuck.” Dave groans, tilting his hips down and reaches down to hold your head. “You wanted me to get rid of this mouth. Deprive me of this?” He shakes his head. “Such a good cocksucker. My little slut.”

His pace gets a little faster as he chases his high, his fingertips grip on each side of your jaw. The sounds of your gagging and spluttering around him spurring him on before he slightly slaps at one of your cheeks and instructs you to keep your eyes on his.

He can see the way your eyes glaze over through the tears. Your mouth gets greedier, throat opening to take more of his cock as he ruthlessly fucks your face. Enjoying the fat tears as they roll down your cheeks to the pillow below you.

You’re not unsure if you should be enjoying this as much as you are, but the way he’s using you for his own pleasure makes your pussy clench hard around nothing. You’re soaking the sheets beneath you. His thrusts grow sloppier as his dick starts to throb on your tongue.

Looking down into your eyes, Dave grunts. “Swallow every drop.” He orders harshly, starting to spill down your throat with a groan.

You do as instructed, keeping your eyes focused on him the entire time. Swallowing hard around him, feeling yourself getting wetter as you do so.

Your mouth gulps around him, adding to his pleasure as he releases wave after wave of his cum into you mouth. Riding a satisfying high until the last spurt hits your tongue and he rolls his hips back until just the tip of his cock is on your tongue. “Good girl, angel.” He groans, reaching down and wiping your tears away. “I knew you could do it. Now I’m going to let you cum.”

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper as he pulls the rest of him from your mouth. Your tongue dips out to lick your lips so as not to waste a single drop from him.

Dave grins, moving off of you and his hand slides between your thighs. “Look at how wet you are.” He growls, making it sound like it’s a filthy thing, because it is. “You like being my little slut, don’t you?” He pushes two fingers into you and curls them up. “Admit it, this is better than what you wanted to do.” He chides as he fingers you roughly, “you wouldn’t know what my cum tastes like. What it feels like to be used.”

“Yes,” you admit as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your heat. “I fucking love being your slut.” You try to ignore the feeling bubbling up in your stomach, this is wrong, this isn’t what you planned. But being here and being completely in his control is oddly liberating.

Dace chuckles, making the sound seem degrading as the squelch of his fingers  is obscenely slick. Almost too wet from how aroused you got being used like a cum doll. “I’m going to like using you.” He predicts, watching as your arms tense, body starting to writhe under his touch. “Cum for me.”

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as you clench down around his fingers. You cum hard with a loud whimper of his name. The sound of metal clanging against the bed frame fills the room as your hands try desperately to grab at him as you cum. “That was… that was incredible.”

Dave pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt and examines the thick coat of slick covering them. “Open.” He orders, pushing his fingers into your mouth for you to suck them clean. Watching as you open eagerly. “Now, do you need to use the bathroom?”

You obey his order, opening your mouth and wrapping your lips around his digits. Moaning lightly at the taste of you on his fingers. Slowly he pulls them out and you nod yes to his question.

“You will not try to run.” Dave tells you sternly, walking over to his trousers to pick the keys out of the pocket. “You won’t like the way I punish you.” He doesn’t bother getting redressed, knowing you need to get used to him being naked in this room with you.

“I won’t run,” you confirm as he undoes the cuffs. You go into the room he points to and you relieve yourself. Spending a few moments after staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look oddly relaxed for the first time in months. He’s sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you as you emerge from the bathroom. You stand there for a few seconds lightly rubbing the sore patches around your wrist as he stares you down, your cheeks flush with warmth as you realize just how vulnerable you are right now. 

“Come here and kneel down in front of me.” He tells you, reaching behind him to grab the collar he had pulled out of the nightstand while you were in the bathroom. “I’m going to put this on you, angel.”

You take the few small steps towards him and kneel down as he instructed, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his the entire time, after picking up that he likes that.

The collar that he got you is padded. Thick leather covered by a bejeweled pattern of metal rings. Allowing him to use it to tie you up if you need to. The fact that it will be locked also keeps it secure. “Let me know if it’s too tight.”

“It feels good,” you say as your fingertips trail the material. “What do you want me to do now?”

“You need to eat. More than just my cum.” Dave smirks and reaches out to grab your chin and stretches your neck out so he can admire your collar. Branding you as his. “After that, you are going to be punished for wanting me to kill you.” He warns you. “It will be a lot. You’re going to beg me to stop, but I won’t until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”

“You’re going to punish me?” You ask quietly, unsure what that will entail, not entirely sure if this isn’t just part of a game he’s playing. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Some.” Dave won’t lie to you. There will be parts of it that will be very painful for you. His fingers tighten around your jaw. “How are you feeling right now? Knowing that you aren’t in control?”

“Good,” you admit softly, “It’s… nice.” Your stomach clenches at his admission, you wonder what he’s got in store for you. “I like the idea of being at your mercy.”

“Good.” Dave allows himself to caress your jaw before he lets go and stands. “Stay here. You may look around but do not try to get out of this room.” He tells you as he picks up his clothes and walks to the door. “I’ll bring you back some food.”

“Should I get dressed?” You ask as he starts walking out the door.

“No. I will just have to strip you down again. You stay naked.” He opens the door and swiftly closes it behind him, giving you no view outside of this little space.

“Oh,” you mouth as you sit down on the edge of the bed. You sit there for a few minutes attempting to take in the events of the day, you’re still not sure how you’ve supposed to feel. You stand up and look around the room, opening one of the drawers and running your fingers across the expensive lingerie he had filled it with. You consider switching on the TV but decide to take a little nap, your headache still evident and exhaustion getting the better of you. It doesn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable sleep, snuggled up on the comfortable mattress. 

It takes Dave about ten minutes to put together a meal for you. Scrambled eggs, toast and some cheese slices for you to nibble on. He had poked through your online shopping for groceries to see what you liked before he had brought you here. Huffing slightly when he sees you asleep, exhausted by your anticipation of being put out of your misery, the drugs and the orgasm. Leaving the tray of food, along with some orange juice and some Motrin on the table, he leaves the room again to get what he needs to set up your punishment.

The sound of a chair dragging across the hardwood floor wakes you, you slowly push yourself up and match him setting something up. He flashes a smug smile in your direction as he does so. You figure that it’s best to wait for his permission to speak so you watch in silence as he continues to set something up against the chair.

“There’s something for the headache with your food.” Dave nods towards the tray. “Eat, you’re going to need your strength.” He walks over to the other nightstand and starts to pull out the original pair of handcuffs and two other ones to link to the chair.

“Yes sir,” you say with a gulp as you reach over to grab the tray. You take the pills and eat a few mouthfuls of eggs before watching him again. “Mr. York… Do I get a safe-word?” 

“No.” Dave shakes his head. “You haven’t earned the right to have a safe word.” He justifies. “You’re mine to do with what I want. My pet.” He almost reminds you that you were going to let him take your life, but he doesn’t. 

“Oh.” You eat the rest of the eggs and sip the juice in silence, anxiety coursing through your veins as you wonder what being his will entail. “I’m not on birth control,” you admit, wondering if he’ll want to go bare.

“Why?” Dave cocks his head as he looks over at you curiously. “You are beautiful. You weren’t taking men home?”

“It’s been a while.” He reaches over and takes the tray off your lap as you sit a little more upright. “Confidence isn’t really a strength I have and the only guys interested in fucking me were losers from work, who seemed hellbent on making their way through every woman on the staff.”

“You will be the only woman I touch.” Dave declares. “I won’t need anyone else to satisfy me. My little pet will take my cock any time I want, right angel?” He poses it as a question, but it isn’t one. You had forfeited your life to him when you contracted him to kill you. You don’t exist anymore. Not the way you used to. He reaches for your chin to draw you up off the bed, fingers brushing your collar. “Never giving me any reason to look at another woman. Not when I have everything I need right here.”

“Yes, sir.” Every single part of you reacts to his words, excitement and anticipation stirring in your tummy. The idea of all that was weighing you down left outside this house, and the only thing that you need to focus on is his pleasure giving you some weird sense of excitement. “I only exist to please you.”

Pleased with your answer, Dave guides you over to the seat. There is a hole in the middle of it with a wand positioned through it and held there with arms. “Sit down. I am going to secure you to the chair.”

You sit down on the chair, your hands still holding onto his arms. “Thank you,” you whisper as he looks into your eyes.

“Why are you thanking me?” Dave asks, brow raised in surprise. He had anticipated you pushing back some, but you have been incredibly docile.

“I don’t know… I guess for making that decision for me. I’m not really sure how this will play out, but I haven’t had any purpose in a long time, and now I have some.” You admit as you sit back up against the chair.

It’s a surprisingly emotional answer and Dave absorbs it, nodding once before he kneels down and starts to cuff your feet to the chair. He had changed into a pair of boxers to cook, but as soon as you are secure, he strips them off again. Baring himself just as much as you are exposed. Once he has you settled, he raises the arms holding the wand and presses the head of the toy firmly against the lips of your cunt and your clit. “Now, I want to see how many times you can cum.” He tells you before turning on the wand to the lowest setting.

“Yes sir.” It doesn’t take long before soft moans start to fall from your lips and your thighs start to shake. “Dave,” you whimper over and over as your high starts to build.

He watches, studying the way your breathing changes. The way your hips try to press closer and move away from the toy all at the same time. So much of you is conflicted and he knows that as soon as you cum, you will be clear. Free of thought except the pleasure coursing through you. “Don’t fight it.”

Doing as he commands, you let the toy press up against your clit. You watch as he slightly increases the vibrations and before you know it fireworks are bursting behind your eyes, pleasure rips through your entire body and you’re convulsing in pleasure with a whimper of his name.

You are fucking spectacular when you cum. Watching as your head tilts back and you let go has Dave’s cock hardening again. Jutting up from his lap as he watches you grind down on the wand. “That’s it, there’s one.” He coos, ramping up the intensity of the wand another level.

You hiss from the overstimulation, your clit pulsating from the orgasm you’ve barely come down from. “D-Dave,” you whine repeatedly as another orgasm builds up in little to no time. Your hips start to rock up against the head on the wand. Your eyes focus on Dave’s cock, rock hard and slightly weeping at the tip, you’re desperate to feel it inside of you. You wonder how he’s going to fuck you the first time, will he be gentle or rough? Will he take you from behind or will he want to watch your face as you come on his cock? Your orgasm washes over you as you think about his cock thrusting in and out of you as he wraps his hands around your throat. Ordering you to keep your eyes on him as he fucks you into the mattress.

He sees you eyeing his cock, smirking as another orgasm rips through you. “There’s two.” He leans back, wrapping his hand around his cock to relieve the pressure slightly before he increases the intensity again. “Now work on three, angel.”

The sight of his hand languidly stroking his cock makes you moan, you want nothing more than to wrap your own fingers around it and take him apart in your hands. Your arousal floods your thighs as the intensity against your bundle of nerves makes you wince. “I want to touch it,” the words fall from your mouth as you watch him give his cock another swift stroke, “Please, Sir.”

“Earn it.” Dave tells you simply. Wanting you to reach your limit and push past it with your punishment. “Earn it and you will be touching it all the time. Sitting in it. Sleeping with it inside you.”

“Yes, sir.” You hiss again and you press yourself up closer to the toy, you want to please him, you want him to see how willing you are to please him. “I like watch-ooh-watching you play with your cock,” you tell him as he swipes his thumb across the tip and spreads the pre-cum down his shaft. “Wanna feel you split my little pussy open.” 

It amuses him how quickly the idea of wanting to end it all has been abandoned in favor of this. Being controlled. Having your fate removed from your hands has made you more confident in an odd way. He couldn’t imagine you saying this to him two weeks ago. “You’re dripping onto the chair.” He grunts, watching the wet pool under your cunt start to grow, leaking out of you.

You moan in response, eyes still glued to his cock. “It’s so thick,” you whisper as a third orgasm begins to sweep through you. Not as intensely as the previous two but enough to render you speechless as you grind against the wand. “Oh fuck, feels so so good, sir.”

He doesn’t answer you, just continuing to watch as he slowly strokes his cock. Languid sweeps up and down the shaft and smearing the beads of cum over the head. He knows you want him to fuck you. But you are going to cum until you are too sore to be touched.

Your hips start to pull back, the overstimulation becoming too much after a fourth orgasm is ripped from you. Your clit now puffy and swollen, “I can’t,” you murmur as he raises his eyebrow at you, clearly displeased as you move back from the toy.

“Yes, you can.” Dave growls, letting go of his cock and leaning forward. “You can cum again. Move back against the wand right now.”

You groan in response, but immediately shift your hips forward. The head presses against your clit again and you whimper at the way your bundle of nerves feels sore from your previous orgasms. “Please,” you beg as he ramps up the intensity. “It’s so much.”

“Punishment, remember?” Dave asks, sending you a mocking grin.

“Yes, sir,” you grit out, as your next orgasm powers through you. You dig your fingernails into the arms of the chairs as you try to regain a little composure, your hips do the most to seek more pleasure as you ride out your high. It hurts, but it feels good, and you know that he has no intentions of letting this be over until you’ve given him another orgasm.

Dave reaches for the remote, flipping off the wand and stands. His cock bounces as he walks over to the chair where you are slumped down. Kneeling down and lowering the arms so he can inspect your clit. It’s swollen, puffy and slick with your cum. Making you whimper when he slides a finger along the seam. Dave chuckles and leans in, spitting on your cunt and leaning back, watching it drip through your fold as you stare at him in shock.

“Did I do good?” You breathe out as he watches his spit drip down through your folds, thinking your punishment is over.

Dave hums and slides the arms back up, pushing the wand against your clit to turn it back on.

Words fail you as the vibrations commence again. Fat tears start to roll down your cheeks as the stimulation against your clit makes you tremble. You’re not sure how much you can take, but despite how sore you’re starting to feel another orgasm starts to build. You look over at him and he’s staring intensely, a smug look splashed across his face as you start to fall apart again.

You’ve reached your limit. The whimpered moans are nearly pained and this time when he shuts off the wand, he’s kneeling down to unlock the cuffs around your ankles. “You did good.” He promises, rubbing your ankles gently before standing to unlock your wrists. “So good.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, the praise making you keen. You hold onto his shoulders as he gently helps you up and leads you towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to run you a bath so you can soak.” Dave tells you softly. “It’ll feel good on your swollen little clit.” He settles you on the toilet seat and sets about drawing you a bath, adding epsom salts and one of the bath bombs he had stolen from your apartment. He will order you more, but thought you might like a scent that is familiar.

“Thank you,” you say as you watch him draw the bath. Your eyes flicker down to his cock again, still rock hard and dripping pre-cum. “You didn’t cum?”

“No.” It’s obvious that he didn’t, but he’s not going to lie to you. “Only you are going to make me cum.” He tells you with a smirk. “Every load will be saved for you.”

Your cheeks feel flush with heat and a loud moan slips through your lips at his words. “I want to make you cum… want you to cover my face with it,” you admit barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted, your pussy is throbbing but if he told you to drop to your knees and bend over for him you know you wouldn’t hesitate for a single second.

Dave groans in approval, very pleased with how you are accepting your role in life now. He helps you into the tub and lowers you carefully into the water, feeling you tense up, hissing when the warm water touches your abused cunt. Once you are leaning back, Dave caresses your face. “Not tonight.” Dave murmurs softly. “You’ve been good for me, angel.” He promises, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

The water is welcoming, you groan in pleasure as the warm water helps you loosen up and your muscles relax a little. “Can I ask you something?” You ask as he gently rubs his thumb across your cheekbone.

“What do you want to know?” Dave asks, watching you relax into the fragrant water and spread your legs slightly to let your pussy soak.

“This isn’t part of a game is it?” You worry a little that your question will make him angry, “I’m only asking because I hope it’s not.”

“This isn’t a game.” Dave assures you. “Now answer my question.” He cups the back of your head and his fingers massage the base of your skull gently. He knows there is probably still a slight headache you are battling and this will help. “Why are you so accepting of this? I expected you to fight, or at least try to escape.”

It’s indescribable how good his fingers feel on you, and you breathe out an approving moan at how good his little massage feels. “Promise you won’t laugh,” you say and he hums back in agreement. “I was overwhelmed everyday. Unhappy. Lonely. Unable to deal with the constant decisions I was forced to make… and having someone take all of that away from me just felt… freeing. I mean… the fact it’s you as well? I didn’t even realize you knew I existed. Even after I handed you that file… I’ve seen the way the women in that office fall to their knees over you and I couldn’t ever imagine you wanting me like this.”

Dave smirks, happy that you had been secretly pining for him before now. “You intrigued me.” He murmurs quietly, continuing to massage your skull and neck. Aware that if he wanted to, he could snap your spinal cord right now and kill you, but he doesn’t. “Those women don’t intrigue me. And I have you.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“You do,” you say quietly, “You do have me.” The tips of your fingers gently run across his jaw, “Tell me what you want to do to me, sir.”

“Everything.” Dave grunts, hard cock twitching as he thinks about it. “You are going to get on your knees for me, hold my cock in your mouth while I pet your hair and look down at my little pet. Let me fuck every hole and have you drip my cum. Be rough when I need to. I won’t ever abuse you.” He vows. “But I will hurt you. And after, you will be taken care of. Like now.”

“Every hole,” you repeat gently, “You mean.. back there?”

“Every hole.” Dave reiterates. “I want to see my cock stuffing your ass full.”

“No one has ever touched me there.” You swallow hard, unsure how he’ll take your admission, but it was clear that it makes you nervous. You’re worried it’ll hurt or he’ll get upset if you need him to stop.

Dave raises a brow and his smile is one of anticipation. “Then I will get you a plug. Make sure you are ready when it comes time.” His hand stops for a moment and he stares at you seriously. “If you don’t like it, it will be something that is crossed off the list and not revisited.”

It’s only when your cheeks start to ache a little that you realize you’ve been smiling at him this entire time, even when you felt a little worried you must have been smiling. You feel it dip a little when you try to remember the last time you felt relaxed enough to genuinely smile and can’t pinpoint a time. “Thank you, Mr York.”

“Don’t.” Dave shakes his head. “It’s sir, or Dave.” He murmurs quietly. “Not Mr. York. That’s too formal.” His fingers start to press and knead again, watching your smile perk up again. “Do you need something else? More water? Juice?” He asks softly. “After this, we are going to sleep.”

“Okay, Dave,” you say before shaking your head, “No, I think I’d just like to finish in here and get some sleep. Will you be sleeping with me?”

Dave had considered letting you have some space tonight, but he finds himself nodding. “Yes.” He tells you, letting go of your head so he can hand you the small sponge and the soap that he had stocked in the bathroom for you. “I am going to sleep with you.”

He helps you out of the bath and watches as you dry yourself, his eyes flickering up and down the length of your body with every swift move you make. He gives his cock a few languid strokes before standing up and pulling the towel from your hand and gesturing towards the bed. 

And now you’re snuggled up next to him, unsure whether you’re allowed to reach out and hold onto him. Whether he wants you to touch him in ways that aren’t sexual, so you lay there, waiting for him to give you any indication.

“Relax.” Dave can feel how stiff you are, how unsure that you are now that you are not being overwhelmed. He turns you over in his arms so that you face him, grabbing your arm to throw over his waist and his leg pushes between yours gently. Not enough that he is pressing up against your sore cunt but so that you can lounge on him. “In bed, you are allowed to touch me however you like.” He murmurs softly. “You earned it.”

Your face immediately nuzzles comfortably into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and breathing him in. You’re not entirely sure how you got here, you’re not entirely sure why you’re so comfortable but in this moment with his arms enveloping you and his breathing in perfect symphony with your own you decide it’s best not to question it. “Goodnight, Dave.” You whisper into his skin before briefly pressing your lips against him. “Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, angel.” He keeps his arms tight around you as you almost immediately relax and fall asleep in his hold. “You aren’t going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

**

He’s not here. Is the very first thought you had after you woke up, after outstretching your hand to reach for him. The side of the bed he had slept in was empty. His clothes he had littered across the floor were gone and the room was almost in total darkness.

Slowly you start to move up and out of the bed, walking over to the bathroom and peering in, a twang of sadness pinging in your chest as you notice it empty. You walk over to the bedroom door, your fingers teeter over the doorknob, ready to wrap around it and swing it open but his words you will not try to leave boom through your mind and you take a few hasty steps backwards. 

‘Why didn’t he wake me?’ you mouth as you look around the room, the chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around your completely bare body and you hurry back towards the bed. Slipping under the covers and letting the lingering warmth from both of your bodies cling to the goose pimpled skin. 

Laying back and staring up at the ceiling, that ugly feeling begins to spread throughout your body. What are you doing? Why are you so comfortable with this? How does this man have such power over you already? You feel a little nauseous. The eggs from last night threaten to make a reappearance as the room starts to close in on you, your breathing becomes more ragged and every breath seems harder and harder to catch.

The door swings open and Dave maneuvers the ladened down tray into the room. He had dressed again, this time lounge clothes for cooking. Bringing enough this time to share with you since he wasn’t letting you leave this room. “You’re awake.” He’s surprised. You had still been completely dead to the world when he had slipped begrudgingly from the warmth of your body to leave the room. Hating that he needed to leave at all but he was hungry and he knew that you would be when you woke up.

You hear him enter the room, and say something to you. But you’re frozen. The anxiety attack you’re currently having, full blown and crippling. Staring up at the ceiling you attempt to fight through it, to catch your breath and shake it off… but you can’t.

“Hey, hey.” Dave freezes for a split second when you don’t look over at him, your chest heaving and he realizes you are in crisis. The tray is shoved on the dresser and he’s on the bed in a second, gripping your shoulder and pressing his fingers to your pulse. “I’m here,” he growls, “breathe, just breathe.” Your eyes are wide, wild with panic and he cups your face in both hands. “Breathe, in-“ he inhales slowly and holds it for three seconds. “And out.” Exhaling slowly in a loud whoosh of used oxygen. Dave has had plenty of panic attacks himself, not quite as hard as he portrays himself to be, and he’s struggled with dealing with the guilt and weight of his deeds sometimes.

“Dave,” you gasp out as you feel his hands on you. Anchoring you and bringing you back down from wherever your mind had cruelly ripped you to. “I thought you… I’m sorry.” It takes a few moments for you to regain your composure, your hands still shaky and your breaths still ragged as you sit yourself upright to face him. “I don’t know why that happened.”

“Shhhhh.” Dave pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back. “Don’t apologize.” He orders you. “You were asleep, I thought you wouldn’t wake up.” He knows that the situation you have been thrown into is scary, he is your anchor point and you had thought he had left you.

Nuzzling your face into his neck, you push away that feeling in your tummy and let him hold you tight against him. “This is new,” you whisper against his skin, “I was so convinced I wanted to die, but now I'm not so sure I ever did.”

“You don’t want to die.” Dave growls, as if he can order you to feel that way. “You aren’t alone. You have me. I will make sure you know you have a purpose.”

“Can you do that right now?” You murmur into his skin, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

He knows you are still tender from the wand most likely and he doesn’t want your first time taking his cock to be a response to a panic attack. Pushing you off his lap gently, Dave stands and starts to undress. “Get on your knees and jerk me off.” He orders. “Want to cum all over that pretty face.”

Silently you drop to your knees, shivering with anticipation and excitement at finally getting to wrap your fingers around his cock. He’s half hard in front of you, you keep your eyes fixed on his as you dip your fingers into your slit and gather up some of the arousal that had pooled there. You smear your wetness over his cock and give him a few pumps before slightly rising up and surprising him with a fleeting kiss on his lips. “Fast or slow, sir?”

“Show me how eager you are for it.” He commands, giving you the freedom to decide. He is controlling the situation but he wants to see how much you want this. 

You start off with a few slower strokes, before building up a rhythm. With every sharp flick of your wrist he rewards you with a grunt, baring his teeth as he grits out a few short praises at how well you're stroking his cock. Maintaining the eye contact that he silently demands, you move your face closer to his cock, before letting your tongue dip out from between your lips… You circle the tip of him with your tongue, whilst continuing to pump his shaft as you do so. “We taste so good mixed together,” you mewl before lapping up the spurt of pre-cum spilling from his tip.

Dave groans, reaching down and cupping the back of your head. “Wait until you are wearing me.” He grunts, rocking his hips forward into your grip. He had been truthful when he told you that only you would make him cum. He hadn’t jerked off when you went to sleep, or when he woke up this morning, waiting until you are the one that brings him pleasure.

You hum in excitement, “I want to make this big, hard cock cum,” you mumble. The pace of your wrist quickens as you tighten your grip, feeling the slight stuttering of his hips. “Are you going to cum for me, sir?”

“Yes.” Dave hisses between his teeth. The anxiety has faded from your eyes and there is only arousal, need. It’s what he wants to see. “Might have to make you suck me off every morning.” He groans, knowing he will wake up before you. “Wake up to your mouth on my cock.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “I’d like that.” You pump him a few more times and he garbles that he’s about to cum. You close your eyes and continue stroking him, loving the way that he lets more and more moans spill out of his mouth the closer he gets. You moan in delight as the first spurts of his cum splashes out across your face.

Dave watches as his sticky seed spills over your cheeks. Hot ropes painting your skin as he twitches in your hand. You lean into it, moaning quietly and he knows that you are perfect. “Open.” He orders, wanting to see at least one spurt hit your tongue.

You open your mouth and resume your pumping, moaning as his cum hits your tongue. The salty and tangy taste of him makes your pussy clench with need. You continue to pump him until he pushes your hand away. “Do you want me to keep it on my face like this, sir?” You ask as innocently as possible. 

Dave pants and shakes his head, admiring his work. “No.” He reaches out and scoops some of his cum off your cheek and pushes it into your mouth. “Clean up so you can eat breakfast with me, angel.” 

Humming around his finger, you lightly nod before gathering up the rest on your fingers and eating it. “Yes, sir.” You stand up and walk into the bathroom and quickly wash your face  before joining him on the bed. Sitting cross legged in front of him.

Spreading out the food, Dave makes sure you have coffee and juice in front of you, along with the fresh fruit and cooled down breakfast sandwiches. “Eat.” He urges.

“What are we doing today?” You ask before taking a bite of your sandwich. You reach over and grab the throw from the end of the bed and wrap it around your shoulders, feeling super conscious about how undressed you are right now.

“Another half dozen orgasms in the chair.” Dave delivers the decision with a deadpan expression, giving you no hint of what he is thinking.

You giggle thinking he’s joking, before realizing he’s deadly serious. “Oh. Am I still being punished?” 

“Do you deserve to be punished?” Dave asks you, taking a bite of his sandwich and lifting a brow at you.

“I think that I deserve whatever you think I deserve.” You answer with a small shrug.

You have admitted that you don’t think that you wanted to die. Which is a great leap forward in his mind. He hums and then a smirk crosses his face. “You’re going to get off on my gun.” He decides. “Slide the silencer into your cunt and fuck it.”

Your face burns at his words, so casual despite what he’s saying. “You want me to put that inside of myself? What if it goes off?”

“Does that matter?” He asks, cocking his head curiously as he stares at you. “Just yesterday you wanted the gun to go off.”

Words fail you as you stare at his face, unable to answer his question because he was right. 24 hours ago you were ready for him to end your life. Instead of speaking, you place your hands out in front of him ready for him to pass you his gun.

“Finish eating.” Dave murmurs, shaking his head. “You don’t ignore your body’s needs.” He knows that you hadn’t been taking care of yourself like you should have, depression holding you tight in its grip. But you will take care of yourself now, he will make sure of it.

“Yes sir,” you say, before picking up the other half of your sandwich and taking a few bites. You pick at the fruit he laid out in front of you and take a few sips of the juice.

Pleased that you are listening to him, he watches as you eat with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “What kind of thing would you like to wear when you are feeling vulnerable?” Dave asks you.

“Your clothes. Your shirts. I’d like to be wrapped in you.” You admit in between bites of pineapple.

His spent cock twitches and he chuckles. “I can bring you some.” He reaches out and hooks your collar to drag you closer for a quick kiss. “How does it feel today, angel?”

“It feels good,” you say with a smile, loving the soft way he kissed you. “I’d like that. Would you like to fuck me whilst I’m in your clothes?”

“I’m going to fuck you in my clothes, out of my clothes.” Dave chuckles. “Don’t worry, you’ll be getting fucked everyday.”

You hate the way you react so audibly to his words, a soft moan filling the room as you start to imagine how good he’d feel inside of you. “I’d like that.”

He frowns after a moment and decides that he needs to talk to you about some things that he couldn’t have learned through your social media. “Do you like sex when you are on your period? Have you ever done it?”

“No.” You run your hands through your hair before shaking your head. “I’ve tried it once and the pain was excruciating, so I asked him to stop.”

Nodding seriously, Dave decides that he won’t try to push you with sex when you are on your period. “Okay.” He picks up his coffee to swallow the last sip. “No sex during that time.”

“I can make you cum in other ways,” you reply quietly.

“No.” Dave shakes his head, knowing that some women don’t enjoy any type of intimacy during their cycle. “Not unless you wanted to.”

“I do.”

Dave finishes breakfast and it’s obvious you are done as well so he gathers up the tray and sets it aside to take away later. “Lay back and spread your legs.”

Laying back against the pillow, you spread your legs as he ordered. Nervous but excited about what he’s about to breach your pussy with.

He steps out of the room, not keeping the weapon in your room - just in case. Holding it firmly in his grip as he comes back on, finger off the trigger, Dave’s face is a hard mask.

Thankful for how obscenely wet you got whilst jerking him off, you wait for him to coat the weapon in your juices.

“I was angry.” Dave growls, holding up the weapons for you to see. The four inch silencer screwed into the barrel smooth and sleek, blued to match the darkness of his work. “When you approached me about taking your contract.”

“I know.” Your breath hitches as he moves closer to you. “But, why?”

“Because you don’t deserve to die.” Dave insists, kneeling on the bed between your thighs. “I look in people’s eyes everyday before they die. I see them.” He slides the gun along your thigh. “You would deprive me of your presence?”

The feeling of the freezing cold metal on your skin makes you gasp out loud, “You never noticed me before.”

“Bullshit.” He hadn’t thought you desperate to die, but he had noticed you. He’d have to be blind not to notice you. “So I kept you. If you didn’t want to live, no one would care if I took you, kept you for my needs.”

“You barely glanced up at me every time I went into your office,” you say, fully aware that the time to piss him off isn’t when he has a loaded weapon in his hands. “I noticed you. Never once did you look at me.”

Dave snorts. “Do you think I would be a good spy or assassin if people knew I was looking at them?” He asks, well aware of his skills. He had noticed that you prefer to wear a specific outfit on Thursday’s and you tended to wear sweaters in the office year round when you were on your period. The edge of the silencer grazes your clit and you jump slightly.

“You never said anyth—,” your cut off by your own moan. His eyes are always black boring down into yours, his jaw rolls as he drags the weapon through your folds.

“You were shy.” Dave reminds you. “I thought you were scared of me.” Half the women in that office had no clue what he did. You knew everything.

“I wasn’t scared of you, I mean I was terrified of pissing you off… but I was never scared of you.” He growls as your hips chase some friction, the teasing making you want more.

His dark eyes center on you, the silencer pressing against your clit before sliding down to your entrance. “You think I would hurt you, angel?”

“I think you could, but I don’t think you would.” You wait for him to push it in, but he doesn’t, he keeps his eyes focused on yours. Clearly enjoying watching you writhe around and squirm in anticipation.

“Good.” It’s good that you know that. He knows what the rumors about him are like. He’s hotheaded and dangerous. He can be, but he wouldn’t hurt you. His enjoyment of being in control doesn’t come from a sadistic side. “Beg me for it.” He coos.

“Please,” you say as softly as you can, bringing one of your hands up to gently grip on his jaw, “Please, fuck me with your gun, sir.” 

Dave smirks and slides the barrel of the deadly weapon, the one that he would have used last night, into your cunt.

Your pussy immediately clamps down around the cold metal, Dave notching it against that sweet spot inside of you. Eyes rolling back into your head, you squeeze tighter on his jaw as he starts to thrust it in and out of you.

“That’s it.” Dave growls. “Such a dirty little slut, fucking the gun that would have killed you.” He chuckles darkly, twisting his wrist expertly.

You know he must have felt the way you reacted to that. Your pussy clenching down hard around what could have been the thing that ended your life. Your eyes flicker away from his and you squeeze them shut in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

Dave chuckles again, flicking the safety off as he presses it deeper inside you. “I could pull the trigger right now.” He threatens. His finger isn’t near the trigger and he knows exactly how many pounds of pressure is needed, but you react to that threat. 

He chuckles at the way your breath hitched, the gasp that fell from you and the way your eyes flew wide open in shock. “Dave,” you whimper, unsure what else to say.

“Dave.” He mocks you quietly. “Tell me to do it.” He challenges you. “Tell me to pull the trigger. You can cum right before you die.”

Panic rises in your chest as he mocks you. Is this just a game to him? You find yourself questioning yet again. No. He wouldn’t have held you the way he did if it was. “No.” You say back as confidently as you can. “You can make me cum, but you can’t pull the trigger.”

“Good girl.” Dave coos, pumping the pistol into you faster, hearing what he wanted to have fall from your lips. “That’s my good girl. My angel.”

“Your angel,” you say back to him as he drives the gun deeper and deeper into your cunt. Making sure it thrusts up into that spot inside of you every time. You can feel yourself soaking the pistol, your arousal dripping all over the bedsheets as he brings you closer to orgasm.

“Mine.” Dave growls. “You didn’t want yourself, so I took you.”

“Yours. All yours.” You say as you’re thrown over the edge, clamping down hard around the gun and cumming with a gasp of his name. 

“Yours.”

Dave relaxes the intensity of the thrusts as you ride out your orgasm on the gun, pulling it out of you when you whimper and relax onto the bed. Holding it up to show you how you have covered it in your pleasure.

He holds the pistol a few inches from your face and tuts a few times. It’s coated in your creamy arousal, glistening with your cum. You wait for him to say something but instead he gathers a little bit of your arousal from the silencer and dips the tip of his finger into his mouth.

“Sweet.” He hums, smirking down at your wrecked face. “When you earn my tongue, I’m going to enjoy feasting on you.”

“Have I not earned it already?” You ask, desperate to feel his mouth on you. “I fucked your gun really good.”

“Someone is eager.” Dave smirks and he can’t deny that you have been good for him. “Turn over and lift your hips.”

You immediately flip over, and lift your hips. Ready to feel his mouth sucking on your bundle of nerves.

Dave chuckles, setting aside the gun and grabbing your hips to lift them up more. Groaning as he descends on your cunt like it is a treat.

“Oh, Dave,” you moan as his hot breath coats your core. “Please,” you start to beg.

Dave doesn’t tease you anymore. Flattening his tongue, he ducks his head and starts at the hood of your clit and drags it through your folds, over your soaked and fluttering entrance to your puckered hole.

Your hips jerk forward as his tongue pushes into your ass, but he’s too fast, his arms are wrapping around you and pulling you back. You squirm beneath him, embarrassment flooding you as he eats your ass with rigor. It feels good, but you’ve never been touched back there.

“Relax.” Dave orders you, pulling away briefly before he sinks two fingers into your cunt before his tongue breeches your ass again.

“Dave, I- oh fuck, it feels so good,” you groan as he teases your puckered hole. The urge to grind up against his face grows stronger but you fight it, not wanting to seem too eager as he plays with your ass.

His fingers curl, his tongue circling and dipping into your spasming channel as your entire body short circuits. Unable to decide if you should move away or push back. He hums and groans. Not minding the musky taste and enjoying the pitiful whines it draws out of you. He can imagine you are mortified that you are enjoying it so much but he will make you crave it, eventually wanting to see you bounce your ass on his cock as you ride him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you garble as his mouth continues its assault on your hole. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you chant his name over and over. “Need to feel you inside me,” you mumble into the sheets as you fall forward, legs shaking with pleasure.

Pulling his fingers out of you, Dave flips you over and pulls your legs up into his hip. Unable to deny himself any longer, he grips his cock to push into you. Watching your face as he sinks into your cunt to the hilt.

The stretch of him is indescribable. It pinches a little as he pushes into you, splitting your tight little pussy open. You appreciate the way he waits for a few moments, studying your face as you adjust to the heft of him. 

“You feel so good, angel.” He groans, stroking your sides gently, “so tight around my cock.”

“You’re so thick, Dave. Fuck. Can’t believe I could be missing this. Please move.”

His hand comes down on your thigh, slapping the side of it before he draws his hips back. “Fuck.”

“Kiss me,” you beg him, desperately wanting to feel his mouth against yours. “Please kiss me, Dave.”

Dropping down to his elbows, Dave lunges forward and presses his lips to yours as his hips slap against your pelvis. Burying himself into your cunt at an unrelenting pace. 

“More,” you plead as his lips brush against your neck, before he starts sucking marks into your collarbone as he fucks into you. “Fuck me like the little toy I am.”

Dave growls, his teeth sinking into your skin when he hears what you say. Instead of the steady pace, Dave decides he’s going to wreck you. Painting his knees had snapping his hips forward.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp out as he grips onto your hips, pulling you down to meet the snap of his hips as he fucks hard into you. “Make me cum. Make me cum on your big cock.”

Hissing, he snaps his teeth together, the rumble somewhere deep in his chest is feral, animalistic as he continues to give you his cock exactly how you are begging him for it.

“Fuck,” you scream as he drags his cock against that spot inside of you. “Oh, I’m gonna c—.” Everything goes black, your body starts to convulse as pleasure rips through you. It’s consuming, every drag of his cock in and out of your heat makes you tremble and knocks the air from your chest. Yet, he doesn’t slow his relentless pace, he just continues to fuck you as hard and fast as he can throughout your high, repeating over and over that you belong to him.

Your body is limp underneath him but he doesn’t care. Continuing to pound into you; marking you as his in the most basic way. He had no intention of pulling out of you. Wanting to fill you up with his seed.

He continues to use you for his own pleasure, chasing his own high as you lay blissed out on the mattress below him. You feel his hips start to stutter, his groans get more ragged as your pussy grips onto his cock. Sucking it back in as he starts to throb inside of you. 

Dave groans. “Shit, angel.” His cock throbbing as he starts to spill. Painting your walls with hot ropes of his sticks seed as he rocks his hips, eyes closed in bliss.

“That was incredible,” you say with a giggle. His softening cock still buried deep inside of you as you wrap your arms around him.

Grunting, he collapses on top of you to catch his breath. “Glad you enjoyed it.” He pants, turning and kissing the skin he had irritated with his teeth.

“No one has ever made me cum like that before. No one has ever made me cum from sex actually.” You say as you run your fingers through his hair, gently rubbing circles into his scalp.

“Dumb fucks.” Dave snorts, burrowing just a bit deeper into your warm, plaint body. “Their loss.”

“His loss. Just one before you. I’ve been lonely for a long time.”

Dave frowns against your neck, his arms around you tightening slightly. “You won’t be lonely anymore.” He growls. He had been lonely too, since Carol had left, but he doesn’t like the idea of you being lonely. “You have me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going to kill me?” You ask, curious as to how he made this decision.

“The first day.” Dave admits, smirking slightly. “Had to get this place ready for you. That’s why it took two weeks.”

“The first day?” You repeat, “At my apartment?”

Dave pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “At your apartment.” He confirms. His soft cock twitches inside you. “I decided I would bring you here. Make you my pet.”

“Oh.” You mouth silently. “What happens next? Will people at work know that something is happening between us? Is it a secret? Am I still going to be working there?”

Dave frowns at you slightly, wondering what you would want to happen. He had expected you to need to be locked up. Contained. But you have been docile and agreeable to him. “Do you want to continue to work?” He asks. “I had thought to keep you here. Making you disappear like you had wanted.”

“I want to do what you want me to do.” You reply simply. “Whatever you tell me to do.” 

“You will write an email resigning immediately.” He decides. “Give up your apartment. Instead of ‘dying’, you are just moving onto other opportunities.”

“Yes, sir.” You agree. “Whatever you want from me, I’ll do it.”

“I want you to be happy.” Dave murmurs, reaching up and caressing your cheek. “If that is having me control you, then that is what it will be.”

“I want to serve you. To obey you, always.” 

Dave chuckles and shakes his head. “I cannot believe how perfect you are.” He huffs. “This is what you needed, hm?”

“I am hardly perfect,” you say with a giggle, “This is what I needed. I think that you are what I needed.”

“Then this will work out very well for us.” He hums, his fingers sliding down to caress the collar. “Now we need to clean up.”

“Are you suggesting we take a shower together?”

“No.” Dave chuckles. “You are going to soak in a bath and I’m going to clean up from breakfast.”

“That’s a real shame,” you say as you snuggle into him. “Would have loved to see you all lathered up.”

“You can see that soon enough.” He smirks at how greedy you are. “If you lather me up, I’m going to want to fuck you in the shower. And you’ll be sore again.”

“You can make me sore. Or… that bath is big enough for two.”

“Greedy.” Dave chuckles and pulls out of your cunt with a soft groan. “You want me to knock you up today, hmm?” He asks proudly. “Since you’re ovulating?”

“How would you know that?” You say with an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t even know that.”

“You were on your period when I came to your apartment.” Dave reminds you, “most women ovulate 14 days after the end of their cycle.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, “You have a good memory.”

“I’m going to breed you.” He promises, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say. “I might just keep you here, filled with my babies.”

You’re not quite sure what to reply and you’re not wanting to upset him, so you press a kiss to his lips and run your hands through his hair again, “I think I’m ready for that bath now.”

He’s surprised that you don’t have any questions, but he lets you get up. Watching as you walk into the bathroom and he hears the water turn on after a moment. He considers joining you, but ultimately decides to go take the tray out of the room to keep things tidy in your space.

Sinking into the hot fragrant water you think about how casually he spoke about breeding you, and you wonder if he really meant it. ‘Should I really be going along with this?’ You question as you slip under the water, the hot water washing over your face as you rest your head on the bottom of the bath for a few moments. 

You let your mind go empty, just relishing in the feeling of the slightly too hot water cleansing your body before you sit re-emerge. 

‘Yes.’ You decide. For over a year you’ve lived in misery, fighting demons in your head and convincing yourself you’ll never stop feeling overwhelmed and yet the moment he has you in his arms and he’s telling you exactly what to do… you feel free.

If he wants to fuck you until you can’t think about anything other than the way his cock feels when it’s shredding up inside of you and filling you full of his cum… you’ll take it all.

Dave returns without the tray, but he does bring in two bottles of water. Deciding he’s going to put a refrigerator in here for you to keep drinks in, he sets the large t-shirt on the bed. You had said you wanted to wear his clothes when you were feeling vulnerable so he had brought you one.

After an extra long soak in the bath and washing your hair, you spend a few minutes in front of the mirror. Using the few skincare products he had picked up for you before returning to your room. A smile spreads across your face as you notice the light gray t-shirt he left out for you on your bed, and you waste no time pulling it over your head. It smells like him. You think it’s clean but maybe something he put on for a short while before taking it off again because you can so clearly smell him on it, it’s oddly comforting. Just 48 hours ago he was the man you stole glances at in your office, the man you knew killed in exchange for money and the man you thought would ultimately end your life, and now you wrap yourself up in his clothes.

You notice a note left on your pillow which tells you he’ll be back in a few hours and to stay in your room, so you sink under the covers and decide to make use of the massive television nailed to the wall.

**

It’s been four hours when Dave finally opens the door again. Smirking when he finds you curled up under the covers and the tv is quietly playing on the wall. He notices the t-shirt is gone, presumably on your body. His own shower taken care of, he’s dressed in shorts and another t-shirt; another tray of food in his hands.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper as he strides into the room, before pausing the TV show you’re watching. “Where did you go?”

“I had to take care of some things.” With you not wanting to completely disappear from the world, he had to go back to your apartment and collect the evidence he had planted that you had disappeared. “Did you nap?”

“No, nap… I did watch half a season of Yellowjackets though.” He hands you the tray of food and you immediately start to dig in.

Dave hums, not sure what you are talking about, but you seem to not mind it. “I am going to bring you your laptop so you can write your resignation letter and email your apartment complex.”

“Okay,” you say between bites of your grilled cheese. “I’ll need to pay off the rest of my lease I think.”

“What do you want or need for when I am at work?” Dave asks, knowing that you can’t just sleep and watch tv all day during the week. “What would you do if you could do anything?”

“I like to cook and bake,” you say with a shrug, “Never had any reason to bake when it was just me.” You rest your head gently on his shoulder, “Is there anything you want me to do?”

Dave chuckles and smirks at you. “Besides sit with my cock in your mouth all day?” He jokes.

“Oh, I think I can do that,” you giggle back, “Yes. I don’t mind cooking and taking care of the housework when you’re at work.”

“You want to be a housewife?” He’s pleasantly pleased by that answer. Not that he ever expected Carol to stay home, but if you wanted to, that was a different story. “Or my little house pet?”

“Both,” you say with a smirk, and before finishing up your sandwich. “Whatever Daddy wants from me.”

“You like ‘Daddy’?” Dave grunts, considering the nickname as he stares at you.

“Do you? I thought you would. Seeing as you wanna keep me here and fuck me full of your cum, right?”

“Never thought about it.” He hadn’t really. Not with the way Carol was firmly in the ‘no daddy’ corner. “If you want to call me that, I don’t mind.”

“What do you want to do this afternoon?” You ask. Noticing he seems a little distracted, you move your head from his shoulder and sit upright. “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“Yeah.” Dave nods, rubbing his jaw. “I want you to cook dinner for me.”

“What do you want me to cook?” You can’t help the smile that starts to spread across your face. You can’t help but be excited to do something for him.

“Your best dish.” Dave decides. “The one you are most proud of. I want to see what you would feed me if you invited me over to your apartment to try to get me to fuck you.”

“Is it ok to keep it a surprise? I can instacart what I need and I can guarantee that you will be fucking me real good after you taste it.” You press a lingering kiss to his lips and sit back.

Dave nods, “order whatever you need. Or what you want.” He tells you, opening the laptop and pulling up Instacart so he can log in. There is no use in keeping where you are hidden from you. Not since you’ve decided you want this. 

“Thank you,” you say excitedly, pulling the laptop on your lap and angling it away from him. “Dinner and dessert are going to be a secret.” You start searching for the items needed to make your best dish and a devil's food cake for afterwards. “Any allergies?”

“None but penicillin.” Dave hums, watching your eyes sparkle with excitement. “But when you cook, I want you in nothing but an apron.”

“I think I can handle that,” you say before pressing another kiss against his lips, “I can’t wait to feed you, baby.”

He chuckles and leans back against the headboard and watches you bite your lip in concentration. Finding it sexy that you want to do this. The leather collar around your neck stands out, but you don’t seem to mind it. Instead, you’ve acclimated to your new situation very well.

“We have 45 minutes until instacart is going to be here.” You squeeze his cock through his pants and lick your lips slowly, “Any ideas on how to pass the time?”

“I could finger your ass.” Dave smirks, watching your eyes widen. “Put in the plug I got for you.”

“Will it hurt?”

“It might be uncomfortable.” Dave admits. “Feel a little strange. But it will also feel good.”

“O-okay. Let’s do that.”

He watches you for a moment before he nods. “Do you want to suck my cock while I play with your ass? Or do you want to pinch your nipples?”

“I want to suck your cock… please.”

Rolling over, Dave gets off the bed and strips his shorts and shirt. “Take the shirt off.” He orders as he strides over to the dresser to open the drawer that contains all the toys and lube that he had stocked in there for use with you. Pulling out a plug, a bottle of lube and a pair of nipple clamps.

You pull his shirt off and place it on the bedside table, “Come here,” you mumble after a few moments, feeling impatient and needing to touch him as soon as possible.

“Bossy.” Dave huffs, amused at how eager you are for him to stuff his cock in your mouth. “I’m not cumming right now.” He warns you, “I want to be able to have you sit on my cock while you feed me.”

You hum in disappointment but nod your head in agreement. You want to taste him again, have him flood your mouth with his salty cum but you know that he’s in charge here.

He smirks at the way your face falls in disappointment and he lays down on the bed. “Come straddle me.” He offers, patting his chest.

“Yes, sir,” you say before immediately climbing on top of him. “Can I kiss you before we start?”

  It’s telling that you would ask. Dave hooks a finger into one of the links of your collar and drags you towards his face. “Kiss me, angel.” He orders roughly.

The second your lips press against yours he takes control, licking his way into your mouth and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. It’s intoxicating, he’s intoxicating, it’s like no matter how much he’s giving you, you still can’t get enough.

The kiss is rough, messy. Just like his life and work seems to be. Softened by the sweetness of your mouth and the way you melt against him. Tempering the rough edges and making it seem erotic.

Your moans fill his mouth as his tongue dances against yours in a battle for dominance, which he unsurprisingly wins. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms and kissing his mouth with all of your strength. You grind down on him and he responds by capturing your bottle lip between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to make you shiver.

Huffing, his hands slide down and squeeze your ass. Enjoying the way that you shamelessly press closer. Dave pulls back for a moment and stares at you. “Why?”

“Why what?” You ask back, confused and concerned you’ve done something wrong.

“Why me?” He asks, clarifying slightly. “You should be screaming and trying to escape. Not begging for more.”

“You make me feel safe,” the words fall from your mouth before you have time to stop yourself. “I haven’t felt like I'm not good enough once since you brought me here. Do you want me to try to escape? Do you want me to leave?”

“I would track you down.” Dave growls, his hands gripping you possessively. “There’s nowhere you could go, I wouldn’t find you.”

“Is that right?” You say before kissing the tip of his nose, “You’d care enough to track me down?”

“You’re mine.” He hisses, fingers curling into your flesh as if to keep you from escaping.

“Yours,” you confirm as you nuzzle your nose against his. “You can be super soft when you want to be.”

“This is being soft?” He scoffs, looking at you as if you have lost your mind. Almost offended by the idea.

“The grumpy face can only hide so much, especially when you’re telling me that I'm yours and holding me like this, York.”

“So possessive is soft in your mind…” Dave is almost amused at that way of thinking.

“Don’t fight it, York, I think there’s a sweetheart behind those grumpy expressions.”

“Do you want me to spank you?” He’s not denying it, but he’s also not confirming it. He’s not as big of an asshole as most would think, but he’s definitely not some limp dicked twat.

“Maybe,” you giggle. Getting the sense that maybe you’ve pushed him a little too far, you grind down across his cock and make a comment about how much time you have left. Not telling him how badly you want him to pull you close and lazily fuck up into you as you nuzzle your face comfortably into the crook of his neck, and relish in the safety of his arms. 

“We could always save the plug for later.” Dave hums, immediately entranced by the way your slick lips slide along his shaft. “You could ride my cock until you cum.” He senses your reluctance to move and wants you to feel like you can tell him what you want. His pleasure is your priority but yours is his. 

“Yeah? I’d like that. You wanna see these titties bounce, baby?” You tease before grinding down on him again.

Dave chuckles and reaches down between you to push his cock farther down, letting it catch on your entrance. “No bouncing.” He grunts. “Slowly ride me while I rub your clit.”

“Yes, sir.” Lifting your hips up, you start to slowly sink down on his length. Still sore from the before, you wince at the way his cock pinches as he splits you open, “Fuck. You feel even bigger from this angle, Dave.”

“Stop.” Dave grabs your hips and makes you hold still. “Don’t do this if it hurts.” He rasps out, enjoying the tight heat of your cunt, but not at the expense of your comfort. “Pull off.”

“No,” you say sternly. “It feels good. I like that it hurts, I like that I can still feel you when you’re not here.”

His brow quirks up, but he lets go of your hips and slides his arms around your back, letting you have your way. Interesting.

“I haven’t felt alive in such a long time,” you admit before slowly starting to rock your hips,  “But that ache you left me with reminded me that I’m very much alive and i’m still capable of feeling other than the numbness that i’d started to believe was all i’d ever feel again.”

“Good.” His hands are soft as he strokes your back gently. Wanting you to set your own pace. He had meant it when he said he didn’t want to cum right now. This is for you. He can’t go but so many times a day and edging himself is its own kind of painful beauty.

“I really like being here with you, and maybe I should be a little more cautious. But you’ve already —oooh— given me so much to look forward to. And for however long you’ll keep me around, I’m going to take such good care of my man.”

You rock your hips a little faster, loving how he feels inside of you. You can feel your ways fluttering around his length as he notches against paradise inside of you.

He doesn’t tell you that he has no intentions of letting you go. That part is non-negotiable. You are his from now on. He saved you. Kept you from ending it all. You’re his.

“When you fuck me later, I want you to fill me up. I wanna feel you dripping out of me as I make your dessert.”

He grunts, his cock flexing inside you, liking that image. Watching you bend over and see his cum on your lips, sliding down the inside of your thighs.

“Always wanted someone to cum inside my pussy and then eat it out of me,” you admit as you grind down a little harder on him, loving how his cock throbs inside your tight little cunt. “Fuck, you feel so good. I fucking love this cock.”

“Can do that.” Dave hisses, twitching again. He enjoys praise just as much as you do. “Maybe I’ll just have you for dessert.”

“Yeah, you want me to lay down on the table in front of you? Legs wide open? Ready for you to dive your perfect face between my legs? Fuck.” You moan and move your hips a little bit faster, picking up the pace as you imagine him feasting on your cunt.

He groans, fingers flexing over your back in reflex to the filthiness of your words. “Yes.”

“Thought about you so many times,” you admit as you move closer and closer to your high, “Imagined you bending me over your desk at work and fucking me however you needed. Yelling at me to be louder so everyone could hear that you were making me your little whore. Fucked my own fingers thinking about it. You’re so fucking gorgeous, Dave, never thought you’d look twice at me.”

Dave groans, thinking about hauling you into work just so he can do that. “Fuck.” He loves how you enjoy the slight degradation he prefers. “You are my little whore. Cock hungry for me. You’ve got me now.”

You know you’re not going to last much longer, you can feel your pussy clamping down around him and your thighs beginning to shake, “I’m yours. Tell me your mine too.”

“I’m yours.” He promises. “Forever.”

You cum hard and you feel him everywhere. Soaking his cock with your cum as he tightens his grip around you. “Forever.”

**

Dave has shown you around the house, watching your surprise when you aren’t in some dank, abandoned safe house. The two story family home can fit on any street in suburbia, and does. Sitting at the kitchen table, he watches you putter around the kitchen, putting up the extras you had bought and acquainting yourself with how the kitchen is set up. “Change whatever you want.”

“It’s perfect. I’ve always wanted a big kitchen. The one in my old apartment was barely big enough to move in, let alone prepare a decent meal. I hope you’re hungry, York.”

You prepare the dessert first. The steaks will be cooked shortly before serving and are already marinating in the refrigerator. “I miss my stand mixer,” you say with a giggle as you start to whisk the ingredients together, knowing that he’s going to enjoy watching your titties bounce as you do so. “I hope you like chocolate.”

“Love it.” Dave has a secret sweet tooth that he indulges. He makes a note to get your mixer from your apartment. “I’ll get whatever you want from your place on Monday.” He tells you. “After work.”

“Thank you, Dave.” You finish mixing the batter and evenly distribute it to the cake pans. You hope he’ll like the dessert, you always add a dash of coconut oil and it always comes out perfectly moist. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s that?” He asks, aware that there are probably a lot of questions that you have for him.

“Do you have any… fantasies?” Embarrassment burns in your cheeks as you ask, unable to fully look him in the face but wondering if there’s anything you could do for him, that no one else has ever done before.

“This.” Dave answers simply. This had been the culmination of his fantasies.

“Oh.” Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised at his answer, but you are, and maybe a secret part of you was hoping for something dark. Something that would make the hairs at the back of your neck stand up and your pussy weep as he revealed it to you. “Am I living up to expectations? You ask as you set the timer for the cakes to bake.

“You could have fought it a little more.” Dave chuckles, leaning back on his chair. “Let me chain you back up to the bed.”

“Right now?” You ask, sounding much too enthusiastic and instantly forgetting that you’re baking a cake.

Grinning at you, Dave hums. “Ohh, did we just hit on one of your fantasies?”

“Maybe.” Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you look over at him, “Maybe, it’s all just you.”

“Your fantasies for me?” He asks, eyes darkening drastically. “Tell me.”

“I’d like you to use me,” you whisper, “Hold me down and take what you want from me, not worry about my pleasure and get your own. Maybe a bit of role play… breath play. And I’d spend forever letting you dominate me in every aspect of my life.”

“Jesus Christ.” He whistles low and reaches down and adjusts his cock. “I can do that, angel.”

“Yeah?” You ask looking over at him, “I don’t think I could ever say no to a single thing you ask of me.”

“You say that now, but I don’t think you’ve learned your limits.” He says seriously. “While I want to control you, I will never betray your trust in me.”

“I don’t think you’d ever step too far over that line,” you say as you take a few slow steps towards him, “You could have taken me anywhere. Chained me up in some disgusting room with no care for my comfort, hid your face from me and just left me confused and scared. But you didn’t. You brought me here, you made me a comfortable room and you’ve looked after me. You’ve been completely honest with all your intentions.”

You take his face in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. Honestly, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve kissed him, in the past 24 hours but you can’t help yourself and he hasn’t seemed to have minded at all.

Humming, Dave lets you lead the kiss, although he does open up for you to slide your tongue into his mouth so you can kiss him deeper if you want.

You slide your tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeper and harder than before. You could kiss him forever, the taste of his mouth and the way he moves his lips is captivating. “You’re distracting, did you know?” You ask after eventually breaking the kiss. “How am I supposed to prepare dinner when you look this good?”

“Cook.” He chuckles at the compliment and slaps your ass as he turns you back towards the stove.

“Fine,” you grumble, before turning around giving him a sad pout. You prepare the potatoes and season the vegetables. “How do you like your steak?”

“Medium rare.” He tells you, keeping his eyes on your ass. “How do you eat your steak?”

“Medium,” you say with a smile. “I can’t remember the last time I had it though. Is a mushroom sauce ok?”

“Mushroom is fine.” He nods. “If it’s your favorite meal, why haven’t you had it in so long?”

“I didn’t want to cook it for just one.” You quickly throw together the sauce before cooking off the steaks. It’s almost finished cooking; perfectly mashed potatoes, steak with garlic veggies. Simple but bursting with flavor. “What would you like to drink with it?”

“Do you drink?” Dave asks. He hadn’t seen much of anything in your apartment, but he doesn’t know if you just abstain.

“Not often, but I enjoy the odd glass of wine.”

Grunting, he stands up and he walks over to a small cabinet on the side of the coffee maker. “I have a red wine and some bourbon.” He offers. “Which one would you like?”

“Red wine, please.” You say as you begin to plate out the food. You take your time dishing it out and making sure it looks perfect for him. “Hungry?”

“I am.” He didn’t eat earlier so he actually is hungry. Pulling out two wine glasses as if this is a normal romantic dinner at home and finding a wine opener to crack into the bottle.

You wait until he’s sat down at the table to bring over the plates, unsure if he was serious about you sitting on his cock whilst feeding him his dinner.

Once you have sat the plates down, Dave looks at the meal. “This looks delicious.” He murmurs, smiling over at you. “How do you want to eat it, angel? Do you want to do what I said? Do you want to sit on my cock? Or do you want to sit across from me and talk while we eat?”

“I want to sit on your cock. I’d like to feed it to you like you said. If that’s okay?”

“It is.” Dave captures your wrist and drags you closer. “Take off the apron, put my shirt back on.” He orders you. “Want to see you sitting on my cock wearing my shirt.” 

“Yes, sir,” you say as you strip off the apron, “I’ll go get the shirt now. One minute.” You make your way back to the bedroom and quickly slip it on, eager to get back to Dave and take a seat on his cock. He hasn’t cum yet and you’re determined to make it good for him. 

He moves your plate over in front of his chair and starts cutting up both steaks. That way you can feed him and yourself while you are on his cock.

“Hi,” you say shyly, as you walk back into the kitchen and see him cutting up the food. “Can I take a seat?” 

After the last of the meat is cut up, he pushes back from the table and wraps his hand around his cock. Quickly stroking himself while you watch with eager, hungry eyes so he fully erect for you to sit down on. "Come here," He reaches out with his other hand and beckons you closer.

“You look so good doing that,” you murmur as you watch every flick of his wrist. Placing one hand on his shoulder and lifting up your leg to straddle him, watching as he lines himself up ready for you to sink down on.

He chuckles as he holds himself in position. “When was the last time you had this much sex?” He asks, reaching up and squeezing one tit.

“Never,” you admit softly, before sinking down on him slowly. 

“Your little pussy’s going to be stuffed every day.” He groans, leaning in to bite your shoulder sharply. “Fingers, tongue, cock. Maybe a toy. Something will be inside you for you to cum on it.”

You lean over and place some steak and potato on the fork before bringing it to his mouth, “Open up, baby.”

Obeying, Dave lets you feed him the bite of steak and potatoes, groaning happily at the taste of the meal. “Delicious.”

His praise makes you keen and you bounce a little with excitement, the groans he gives you as you bob up and down on his cock with glee are delicious, you immediately load the fork with another helping of food and bring it up to his lips.

“You need to eat too.” Dave huffs, even as he accepts another forkful of the food. He is not going to have you not eat while you feed him. 

“I will,” you say with a smile and before grinding down a little faster on his cock, “I’m taking care of you right now.

He frowns at you as he chews the bite. “Take a bite for yourself.” He insists, taking the fork and reaching around you to scoop up a bite of food to hold up to your lips.

“Yes, sir,” you obey and wrap your lips around the fork. Moaning in delight and how well it came out. “Do you think I can make you cum before it’s all finished?”

“I know you can.” He grunts. “You have cum today. I haven’t.”

“Let’s change that then.” You place the hand that isn’t feeding him back on his shoulder and start to increase your speed, bouncing up and down on his cock with a little more rigor. You clamp down around him as you feed him another forkful. It’s not the most elegant way to feed a person, but you don’t care. You just wanna feel him come undone inside of you.

Groaning, he feels his body already starting to get close. Your walls are tight around him, squeezing him when you take him deep. “Fuck.”

“Feel good?” Another forkful is gentle pushed into his mouth and you decide to increase your pace, fucking down on him a little harder and watching him stare at the way your titties bounce. “Wanna feel you dripping out of me as you eat your dessert,” you mewl as his cock spurs up against that spot inside of you.

Dave growls as he twitches inside you. “Gonna plug you up.” He huffs. “Keep it inside you.”

“Yeah? -ooohhhhh- You want it to take?” A few thrusts later and you can’t hold off anymore, your pussy starts to spasm around him, your walls grip on to his throbbing cock and you cum hard. Everything goes black, and you feel his arms wrap around you, and he starts to fuck up into you. Your orgasm triggering something primal in him.

The forks clatter to  the floor, his arms wrapping around you and his feet plant onto the floor to fuck up into you. Lifting you both out of the chair and he pins you to the table as he works himself deep, growling as he pushes close to the edge.

“Fuck, Dave,” you splutter as he pounds into you, every punch of his cock knocks the breath from your lungs as he chases his high.

Snarling out your name since the first time you’ve woken up in his house, Dave starts to cum. Filling you with a rush of heat that pours into you with every sharp roll of his hips as he tries to push it into your womb, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrusts, as of he could fuck it deep enough into you to take.

You feel sated. You can feel his cock still twitching inside of you long after he finishes cumming. The table isn’t the most comfortable surface but you could happily lay here for the rest of the night, just relishing in the afterglow and replaying the way he fucked into you, like he needed it to survive.

“Jesus.” He huffs, laying his forehead between your breasts and tries to catch his breath. “I’ve fucked you more this weekend than I’ve fucked in a long time.”

“And the weekend isn’t over yet,” you say with a giggle. Running your hands in his hair, you massage circles into his scalp as he wraps his arms around you.

“Wait until I chain you to the bed.” He growls. “I might keep you there if I like it.”

“Lead the way.”

**

Dave looks over your shoulder, cock buried inside your cunt as you scroll through your emails on your laptop. He had found working at night with you on his cock very soothing and had decided to show you how comforting it is. “Anything good?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder and rocking his hips slightly.

“Nope, but Sharon has said the last few boxes need to be picked up and out of my apartment ASAP and she’s found someone else to rent to already.” You turn your face to face his, “It’s been over a month since I left there already.”

One month. One month since he had bought you here and told you that you were his. He had kept his word, filling you and bringing you pleasure every night. You haven’t left the house since he had brought you here and he wonders if you want to get out. “Do you want to go with me to pick them up? Or do you want me to get them after work?”

“You can swing by if you don’t mind and that way I can make sure dinner is ready for when you’re home.” Feeling safer in this bubble than you have for a long time, you don’t feel ready to burst it yet. You close the laptop down and snuggle back into him.

Humming his approval, he knows that eventually you will want to go out, but for now you enjoy staying where he keeps you. You hadn't even realized he had never locked the door of your room when you arrived, never even trying the handle. He takes your hands and brings them up to the headboard to wrap around one of the posts where he routinely chains you up. "Hold on." He growls, twitching inside you. "Want you to scream for me, angel." When your fingers wrap around the slats, he lets go and moves his hand to your throat.

“I want you to wreck me,” you say, the sweetest look etched across your delicate face as he lightly presses down around your throat. “Please, sir.”

Your collar is off right now, knowing he was going to restrict your breathing had made him take it off. Making sure that you weren't in any real danger because his primary responsibility is your safety and pleasure. Your walls clench down around him and he smirks. "My little whore. So eager for everything I give you."

“I’m all yours.” He draws his hips back and slams that back into you with such force that you whimper, the room flooded with the sounds he pulls from you. He knows how much you like to touch him when he’s railing you, and you see the smirk on his face when you immediately fight against the urge to unwrap your fingers from the slats. 

"I know you are." He grunts, loving how eagerly you give yourself over to him. "Fuck, you're going to take it, aren't you? Take my cock, I could cut off your air and you'll cum, thanking me for it. Dirty slut."

“Yes, Dave,” you whine as his pace becomes relentless, fucking into you as hard as he can, all whilst aiming for the spongey spot inside of you. You want to scream his name, you want to beg him for more and more but with every jerk off his hips he renders you more and more speechless, and only able to spill filthy moans from your lips. 

“Fuck.” He hisses, flexing his hand around your throat. The bed shakes from the force of his thrusts, fucking you into the bed like a rag doll.

“Please,” you chant over and over, not knowing what you’re begging for but preparing yourself for the mocking coming your way. You snake your finger down to rub your clit without his permission or his instruction to do so but you can’t help yourself, you start to rub little circles into your bundle of nerves as he fucks you into the mattress.

The slap to your cheek is light but the sound cracks between you. “Hands back where I put them!” He barks out, furious that you would touch yourself when he told you to give yourself to him.

“Sorry,” you squeak, groaning as you pull your hand from your neglected clit. You wrap your fingers around the slats. His eyes are almost black as he stares down at you, chest heaving up and down as he lightly rocks his hips. The urge to beg him to kiss you lingers on the tip of your tongue, but you know he’ll say no. That you don’t deserve it after touching your clit.

“Fuck, angel.” He hisses, reaching down and rubbing your clit himself. “You tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you.”

“I only want you.”

“You’ve got me.” He promises again, ramping up his pace again until the slick sounds of his cock drilling into you is all he can hear.

It’s only been a month and you hate yourself for letting it get to the tip of your tongue already, but it's there again. Those three words that you swallow down harshly, leaving a painful sensation at the back of your throat. “Fill me up, baby,” you scream as your orgasm is ripping throughout you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck.” The vice grip of your cunt always gets to him. Rocking his hips a few more times before he’s burying himself deep with a guttural groan and filling you up just like you asked.

“Don’t pull out,” you murmur into his skin, wanting to feel him as close to you as possible. You nuzzle your face into his neck and silently will him to hold you tighter.

“It’s okay, angel.” You seem especially needy tonight, a desperation to have him close, eating on his lap tonight when he got home, although he hadn’t fucked you during dinner this time. “Go to sleep.” He urges you softly, wondering if you have been tired since he’s noticed your sleep had been disturbed lately if you roll away from him. He had to keep himself wrapped around you or you were crying out in your sleep.

“Promise you won’t go anywhere.” He never does but you need to hear it.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dave whispers, turning his head and pressing his lips to yours gently. “I’m right here.”

**

You check the chicken and potatoes. Cooking him a simple dinner for tonight, you know he’s swinging by your apartment to pick up your last few boxes. You woke up on top of him this morning, his arm wrapped around you super tight. It physically pained you to watch him leave for work this morning and you can’t wait to see him again.

Dave lets himself into your nearly vacant apartment. Most everything had already been taken over to his house or sold, but apparently these boxes had been in the storage room and overlooked. There’s also a stack of mail on top, one marked in red ink and it makes him pick it up to read it.

We are disheartened to inform you that the appeal to stop Rex Thomas’ from being granted early release has been denied.

Judge Rainer had agreed that he should be granted early release on grounds of ‘model behavior.’ He will be released on March 28th 2023. 

Please take your time to go through the pamphlets provided and reach out for any of the support available to you at any time.

Frowning, Dave rereads the page again, growing angry at the idea of someone hurting you. He knows what this is. It’s a victim’s advocacy alert. Shuffling through to the next page, he growls, reading your report of abuse and assault at this bastard’s hands.

Aggravated assault, mental abuse, attempted sexual assault… The list goes on and on. He reads through the injuries from the assault that took place that finally got him placed in prison. And it suddenly made sense why you wanted to disappear.

“Motherfucker.” Dave hisses, guilt swamping him because of how he has treated you, although you have begged him to tie you up, to use you. Enjoying everything he has done to you over the past month. If he had known this….he might not have done those things. “Fucker.” He makes a mental note to look this asshole up as soon as he gets to work tomorrow as he shoves the papers in the boxes and hauls them out of your apartment.

Stirring the sauce that you’ll serve with dinner you glance over at the clock, you had expected Dave back by now and you were getting antsy. You decide against phoning him and try to occupy yourself by making dessert afterwards.

Dave loads up the box and it’s only because he’s a man who is completely aware of his surroundings does he notice him. A man, too far away to see his face, sitting on a beat up coupe and staring at him as he sits in the back corner of the parking lot. That has to be Rex. Dave knows it like he knows you are cooking dinner right now.

You hate yourself for allowing yourself to be so weak, but you’re worried. He’s still not home and rather than let your anxiety send you into a full blown panic attack you decide to phone him. Feeling some of the anxiety immediately evaporate after he picks up after just a few rings, “Hey, where are you?” You ask down the phone, hoping he can’t hear the panic in your voice.

“Angel.” Dave keeps his voice low, watching as the blue coupe pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Following him. “I just left your old apartment. I’ll be late.” He decides. “Go to your room. Curl up in your bed. Don’t worry about dinner right now.” He orders.

“Are you ok? When will you be back?”

“I will be back when I’m back.” Dave growls, pissed off that this fucker thinks he will follow him to you. He knows that Dave had come out of your apartment. “A few hours maybe. I’m okay, angel. Don’t worry about me. Be my good girl, okay? Stay in your room.” 

“Have I done something wrong?” You know he’s trying to get off the call, but you can’t help but ask. Anxiety sweeping throughout you. “I’ll go to my room now.”

“You have done nothing wrong.” Dave stresses. “I just want you to feel safe. You told me your room feels safe.”

“I feel safest when you’re here. What’s going on, Dave?”

“I’ll explain it when I’m home, angel.” He promises. Pausing for a moment before he decides to make you happy. “Angel….” He sighs softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It should make you feel better, but it makes you feel worse. You want to see his face, you want to hold him, you want him to hold you. Crawling into bed you reach over and open the drawers to your bedside table, pulling out one of his shirts and draping yourself in it. 

You figure that it’s something in regards to his job, but that just makes your panic more, knowing exactly what he does. 

He keeps you safe. He literally kept you alive and the idea of anything happening to him makes you feel nauseous. You’ve spent so much of your life simply surviving and he made the decision to keep you alive and for the past month you’ve actually been living. 

An ugly thought flashes up in your head, but you bat it away. It couldn’t be… Rex was still in prison. And the victims advocacy group had promised that your case was strong enough that he wouldn’t be walking free anytime soon. But still… it lingered. You pull out your phone and reluctantly type his name in the search bar and your heart immediately sinks.

**

Dave called Kovac, telling him to have the team meet him at the abandoned warehouse down on the waterfront. The one that was currently being turned into a swanky set of lofts through gentrification of the downtown area. Smirking in the mirror as the coupe stays about a car length behind him. “Come on, fucker. Let’s go have a chat.”

**

After tossing and turning for the better part of an hour, you let your legs lead you to his room. You know he told you to stay in yours but you’d been spending most nights in his bed, snuggled up on his chest and you needed to be surrounded by him. You climb into his bed and snuggle up to pillow, letting your arms wrap around it and nuzzling your face into the material; inhaling his scent and imagining his arms wrapped around you.

Dave pulls into the garage three hours after the phone call with you had ended. Closing the door before he steps out of the car, he needs to shower before he goes to your room. To explain why he is late.

His footsteps slow down in front of your door, firmly closed. If he didn’t have blood on him, he would immediately go in. Instead, he walks by and opens the door to the master bedroom, surprised when he sees you asleep in his bed. Not expecting to see you curled around his pillow like you are holding onto him, he watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face and he knows what he did was the right thing. No question. He will sleep like a baby tonight knowing you will never have to worry about that bastard finding you again.

After a minute, he creeps into the bathroom and strips off his clothes, knowing they will need to be burned as he shoves them into a large, industrial sized bag before he turns on the shower and steps inside to wait for the water to warm up.

The sound of running water makes you stir, you’re not sure how long you’d been asleep for but you almost bolt upright when you hear someone moving around in the bathroom. You know it’s Dave, this house is the most secure house you’ve ever been in, he made sure of that. 

You tiptoe over to the bathroom, gently pushing open the door and letting his shirt fall off your shoulders. You need to touch him, you need to wrap your arms around him and pull him tight. 

He’s too busy washing the shampoo out of his hair to notice you stepping in behind you, and it’s only when you notice the water turning red and you gasp that he spins around and sees you. 

“Dave, is that bl—? Oh god, are you hurt?”

Shit. He had hoped to get clean. Your face one of panic and he quickly shakes his head. “It’s not my blood.” He explains, shoving his head under the water quickly to finish cleaning up.

“Are you hurt?” You repeat, upset that he didn’t answer your question. “Dave.”

“I’m not hurt, Angel.” You move to step into the shower and he holds up a hand. Wanting to make sure all of the blood is off of him. “Give me one minute. Then you can join me.”

“Hurry,” you say, not caring how petulant you sound. “Please.”

Methodically, he scrubs his body clean and the second that he is rinsed off, you are leaping into the shower and he pulls you close. “It’s okay, Angel. It’s okay.” He murmurs quietly.

“Where were you?” Immediately pressing your lips to his neck, after asking.

“I went to your apartment.” Dave murmurs truthfully. “You got a letter. Rex Thomas is out of prison.”

“I know,” you admit, “I had a horrible feeling when you wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone and I googled his name. He promised me that he’d make me pay for sending him to prison.” You unwrap your arms for him and take a step back, “And I know you’re capable, but I won’t risk you getting hurt because of me. Clearly, he’s going to keep to his word.”

“He won’t ever hurt you again.” Dave promises you, reaching out and cupping your cheek. “He was at your apartment. Wanting to follow me, so I made sure that he won’t ever touch you again. He’s gone, Angel.”

“He’s the reason I wanted to kill myself,” you blurt out, “I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe again… I didn’t think I’d ever feel anything again. Until you.”

“I wish you had told me.” Dave pulls you against his wet chest. You have your collar on, which means you will have to take it off because it’s getting wet, but he doesn’t care. “I would have had him killed in prison.”

“I’d like to tell you everything that happened, if you want to know, that is?”

Dave nods, tightening his grip on you. Even if he didn't want to hear it, you seem like you need to tell it. “Tell me, Angel.” He starts to rub your back soothingly. The hot water will last and the steam makes the bathroom cozy.

**

He held you for a little while in the shower in comfortable silence until you were ready to get out. Now you sit opposite him, dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts and your hair still dripping a little from the shower.

“I tried to leave him many times, but I was more determined than ever that night. He reluctantly took me to the hospital a few days before after he burned me with boiling water and it had gotten infected. The nurse had realized it wasn’t an accident and managed to get me alone, offering me support and saying she could get me into a shelter. I said ‘no’ but she gave me her number and I phoned her a few days later. He came home early from work after suspecting something was up and caught me shoving a bunch of clothes in an old gym bag. I thought he was going to kill me. He beat me for hours, he told me exactly what my life was worth and made me repeat it over and over again, until I believed it myself. Which I already did. Worthless. No good to anyone. Eventually one of the neighbors called the cops after getting tired of hearing my sobs. They broke the door down and caught him pouring hot water over my already infected burn, he wanted to teach me a lesson and ‘really hit me where it hurts.’ He got four years. After a year they said he was reformed and starting working on early release. I hadn’t even started to process what he had done to me, and they were processing the paperwork to get him released.” 

The emotion that was lacking in the report is in your voice. Making him wish he had taken more time with that bastard. The only man besides him that you had been with, abusing you. Ironic considering Dave had all but kidnapped you, but he knows he would never touch you in anger. He would never hurt you. “What about the attempted sexual assault?” Dave asks quietly.

A loud sob escapes your mouth as you wipe away the tears streaming down your face, “He decided that I would want to stay if he showed me what I’d be missing. Held me down and attempted to… yeah. I kneed him as hard as I could and he just started to hit me. I passed out after a while and then he started to fuck with my burn again.”

“Fucker.” Dave moves, slowly. Edging closer to you and he reaches out to pull you against him. “I’m sorry Angel, if I had known….” He closes his eyes. “I would have never made you my pet.”

Shaking your head, “No. You saved me. You let me make that decision, I needed someone to take control on my terms and that’s what you did for me. I needed purpose. I needed reason and I needed someone to let me love them and you did all those things for me.” Touching his face gently, you let out an exhale, “I never let him kiss me. And now I spend all day fighting the urge to stop myself from kissing you, because I'm terrified that I’ll annoy you. But I never want to stop kissing you.”

“You won’t ever annoy me.” Dave assures you. “Do you want to know what I did to him?” He asks quietly, not sure that you want the mental image in your head.

You shake your head no, “He’s gone and that’s all that matters.”

“Gone.” He nods, knowing that his body will be found so you can have closure. “Forever. He will never hurt you again. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you.”

“Dave,” you murmur, unsure how he’s going to react to your request… “Make me forget it all…”

Pulling away from you, he searches your eyes. Wanting to make sure that this isn’t some knee jerk reaction. “The chair or my cock?” He asks you quietly.

“Your mouth,” you tell him, letting him know exactly what you want “And then your cock.”

“Lay back on the bed, Angel.” Dave orders. “Leave your shirt on.”

“Yes, sir,” you giggle, before kissing him quickly. Laying back down on the bed, you let your legs fall open and you wait quietly and patiently.

Dave dispels the images that the report had put in his mind. Leaning down and kissing your knee. “I want you to be loud, Angel.” He murmurs, kissing down your thigh and pressing his tongue to your clit.

“Make me scream your name, Dave,” you beg as he starts to roll your clit between his teeth. He loves to tease you over how often you ask for his mouth. Waking up in the middle of the neck and innocently telling him that you were dreaming of him eating your pussy. 

Dave chuckles and sets about to do just that. He throws his arm over your stomach and pulls you closer to his mouth, keeping his eyes on you. Sliding his tongue though your folds and flicking it over your clit expertly. He knows exactly how you like to be eaten, spending as much time with his tongue buried in your cunt as you spend with your mouth around his cock.

With every flick of his tongue, he knows he’s got you. An outpouring of sweet little moans and a chant of his name is plucked from you so easily. He eats your tight little pussy so enthusiastically that you could cum for just listening to the sounds he makes alone. You start to rock your hips against his face, it’s messy but you don’t care. All that matters is the way his tongue feels against your pretty little clit, and you don’t care how desperate you seem as you chase more and more of it.

He knows you aren’t thinking about anything but the pleasure building in your core. Every flick of his tongue tightens the knot and you start to shamelessly chase his tongue as he pulls back. Despite what some might think, he’s not a selfish lover, taking extreme pleasure in the way that your body burns for him and you’ve never turned him away.

“Please don’t stop,” you almost sob as he starts to pull back, moving away and almost stopping the delicious assault on your clit. “Baby.”

“Put your legs up on my shoulders.” Dave orders before he dives back into your cunt.

“Yes, sir.” You place your legs on his shoulders and gesture for him to hold one of your hands. An act he rolled his eyes at the first time, but now does without hesitation. “Make me scream, daddy.”

Threading his fingers with yours, Dave smirks. Sending you a small wink before he starts to work his jaw. Doubling down on his efforts to make you cum. Groaning into your cunt with eager abandon. 

“Fuck,” you whine loudly, “I fucking love this mouth.” Your free hand tangles in his hair, pushing his face closer to your soaking wet cunt. Your hips move faster, rutting against his gorgeous face and his tongue furiously laps at your clit,  “I fucking love you.”

He tells you he loves you too, the words muffled and vibrating against your folds. Sucking your clit back into his mouth to push you over the edge.

He says something that you can’t quite make out, but you don’t have time to dwell on it, because you’re falling off that delicious cliff. Obeying his command that you ‘be loud’, his name bounces off the walls as you scream it in the sweetest way, thighs squeezing around his head as he keeps licking at your clit whilst you come apart. “I love you so much. I love you so so so much. You scared the crap out of me today,” you start to garble, “Fuck, I am so scared that I’m going to lose you.”

He works you through it slowly, making the slow sweeps of his tongue increasingly light until he’s pulling away. Kissing your clit one last time before he hums and pulls away. “You aren’t going to lose me, angel. Remember what I do.”

You hum contented. “I do, I’m sorry.” You say before stroking his face gently, “So, how do you want me, baby?”

“I want you just like this.” Dave lifts up and starts to move up your body, shuffling to settle in the cradle of your thighs and he presses his wet lips to yours. “Tonight is going to be a little different.”

“How so?” You take his face in your hands and pull him in for another kiss. 

“Slow.” Dave says simply, pressing his lips to yours and slides his arms underneath you. “I’m not going to make you scream. I’m going to make you moan.”

“Are you going to make love to me?” The words slip right out of your mouth, and you hope he doesn’t laugh at how silly it sounds.

“I am.” He kisses along your jaw and bites down on your earlobe. “I’m going to make love to you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you whisper, ready to let yourself fully lose yourself in this man. “Make love to me, Dave York.”

He takes his time. Slotting himself at your entrance and pushing inside slowly. Kissing your lips and murmuring ‘I love yous’ as he buries himself.

You love the way that he’s still a stretch, no matter how many times he’s taken you the past month, you still need to adjust to the heft of him. As he fills you to the hilt, you relish in how full he makes you feel. How every single one of your senses is heightened when he’s around because he does something to you that no one else has or will ever be able to do. 

The kiss he gives you as you adjust to him is slow, languid and filled with unspoken promise. His tongue doesn’t battle against yours in its usual dance for dominance, instead you just explore each other's mouths. Moans spilling into his mouth from yours as he starts to move slowly.

There is a sedate tempo to this that is no less devastating than the harshest pace. Still overwhelming you by the slow drag of his cock while you feel every ridge and vein as he breaks you open over and over again.

The kiss doesn’t break. It expands and softens even more. Breathing into each other as if you are giving each other life with the caress of a tongue or a gentle sigh. 

He’s sure you’ve got nothing else but him in your mind. The way your bodies are fitted together, moving at a pace that makes your breath hitch and your fingers drag down his back, scraping skin and giving him the response that he wants from you.

You can feel it building in your tummy already, that coil starting to tighten and threatening to snap at any moment. Your fingertips coast around his body, touching him wherever they can reach as he keeps that perfect rhythm going. 

He gently nibbles on your bottom lip and you keen beneath him, he’s gotten to know your body so well and he withdraws your pleasure like it's the simplest thing in the world.

Your groan is soft, pleading but he doesn’t speed up. The lethargic pace could last for hours and he would be okay with that. Far different from the sweaty, exhaustive sessions, your skin is still dewy as the heat builds up between you. Your lips brush against his as you moan his name. You feel him everywhere. 

Gently pushing his hair away off his face, you take a few moments to study him. His eyes are blackened with lust, his brow furrowed in a line as he concentrates on pulling more moans from you. He’s just… gorgeous. 

Once again your mouth finds his mouth and you let him take the lead, sliding his tongue back into your mouth and kissing you like it’s the only thing in the world that matters.

You know he’s killed for you. You know what he’s capable of and yet you don’t shy away from him. You don’t flinch or get nervous anymore. You push, you demand. You have started coming out of the little shell that your bastard of an ex carved around you. He moans into your mouth and has to brace himself. To keep the pace slow. Wanting to draw a long cry from you when you finally reach your peak.

“Dave,” you whimper softly against his lips, you can feel your walls start to flutter around him and you know you can’t fight it for much longer. “I’m going to cum,” you rasp out as you lightly drag your fingernails down his back.

“Good.” Dave murmurs, kissing you again. “Cum, angel.” He orders softly, grinding his hips into yours slowly. “Cum for me.”

His name falls off your lips so effortlessly as you reach your high, clamping down around him and soaking him with your arousal as your body starts to writhe with pleasure beneath him. You hold on to him with all the strength you can muster as he continues his gentle thrusts throughout. Showering you with sweet little praises and promising he’ll never let you go.

When he cums, it almost surprises him. Slowly rocking into you until he’s gasping out your name and pushing deep. Flooding your pussy with a wave of cum as he closes his eyes and holds you tight.

He tucks his face in the crook of your neck as you both try to catch your breath. “Thank you,” you sat quietly, “For breathing life back into me, when I was convinced I’d never live again.”

“I wasn’t going to let you die, angel.” Dave promises you. “You aren’t one of the unfortunates and I won’t let you become one.”

You hum happily in response, ���I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” Dave promises, pressing his lips to your neck and humming softly. You had come to him with the intent of ending your life, but he had given you a purpose and reason to live. He was your purpose and you are his Angel. You don’t know it, but you’ve saved him too.

“I think I started to fall for you that very first night,” you admit as he lifts his head up to look at you, “For years those words didn’t mean a thing to me. Something he forced me to say… but with you they have meaning. I know it’s only been a month and the circumstances aren’t what people would call normal. But I wouldn’t change a thing, because they brought me to you.”

“And you never have to leave.” He promises softly.

**

[ONE YEAR LATER]

**

With a smile on your face and a small package in your hand, you bounce into Dave’s office filled with glee. 

“Hi baby,” you say as he looks up at you with a grin, “I’ve ordered lunch to be brought up to us.”

Leaning back on his chair, Dave smirks at you. You had decided to come back to work almost a year later. Your collar being exchanged for a discreet necklace that only holds significance to you and him. Although your relationship is very well known around the office. “You are looking excited. Did you order from that Indian place you keep moaning over?”

“No, I ordered from the burger joint that you love.” You say before sliding the box over to him with a large smile on this face. “Open it, baby.”

“What is this?” He asks, holding up the package.

“Open. It.” You repeat again with a little wink, standing up and rounding the desk to take a seat on his lap.

“I’m supposed to be doing things for you.” He grumbles, his lips quirked in amusement and he opens the package with his arms around you. “Angel.” His voice drops to a whisper as he stares at the contents of the box.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say, nuzzling your nose against his, “I was going to wait. I took the test last night and picked up the onesie on my coffee break this morning… We are going to have a baby, baby!”

“A baby.” He sets the box down on the desk and his hand slides to your stomach. He knows you have worried. You hadn’t gotten pregnant before now, regardless of how many times he had filled you up. “Do you want to go out tonight?” He asks softly. “Celebrate?”

“I’d rather just go home,” you say, pressing your lips to his, “And then we can order from that Indian.”

He can chuckles against your lips. “No wonder you’ve been craving different things.” He keeps his hand on your stomach and smirks. “You’re mine.” He reminds you quietly.

“Yours.” You confirm, “And you’re all mine.”

“Always yours.” He promises with a kiss. It’s a promise he won’t ever break. You’re his. But he’s also yours.

[pullhisteeth]

masterlist archive

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ everything I have written!

see my request guide here before submitting requests

☆ smut, (☆) implied smut, ☁ fluff, ϟ angst/some sad themes

-

new/my favourites -

saturn return ☆☁ϟ [14k] - knight!eddie + princess!fem!reader

worry lines ☁ϟ [4.7k] your ex comes back and Eddie gets jealous (cw for abuse)

Eddie wakes you up mid-road trip to see a corny roadside attraction (request) [2.4k] ☁

wise words ☁ϟ [4k] Eddie fucks up (royally) and has to work his ass off to get you back. based loosely on how you get the girl by t. swift

classified ☆☁ϟ [13k] at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer.

the end (two parts): 1 - the end is near - you and the gang find Eddie in rick's boathouse. ☁ϟ(☆) [5.5k] 2 - the end is here - living with Eddie in the months after Vecna. ☆☁ϟ [5.3k]

Eddie plays the piano. ☁ [0.6k]

end of beginnings ☁ϟ [5.3k] you spend christmas and new year with Eddie. in other words: crossing the line.

you tell Eddie you love him for the first time (request) ☆☁ [3k]

an account of how Wayne Munson got tired of your pining and took matters into his own hands (at christmas!) ☁ [1k]

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fics/requests -

the bone crush ϟ☁ [5.5k] you’re five years out of high school and your boyfriend's managed to get famous. some days are harder than others, but he goes to great lengths to make it better.

knight in a navy blue boiler suit - part 2 ☁ϟ [5.2k] you take your car in for fixing and the mechanics are a**holes about it. Eddie, though, saves the day. 

on Christmas Eve, you take Eddie to visit your parents. ☁ [0.5k]

nineteen ☁ [2.6k] a reflection on the beginning of you and Eddie. 

birthday boy ☁ [1.4k] it's Eddie's birthday!

Eddie stands up for you in class (request) ☁ϟ [2k]

Eddie helps you with an ED (tw) (request) ☁ϟ [3.3k]

you go to Eddie after a breakup and he tries to contain his feelings (request) [2.1k] ☁ϟ

stuck [1k] ☁ϟ you have a bad dream about Eddie and he comforts you (twice)

a very fem!reader likes metal, much to Eddie's surprise (request) [1.9k] ☁

wasteland, baby [4k] (☆)☁ϟ your friendship with Eddie got complicated when you went to college. you've both been hiding things from each other, and the heat of a summer spent in Hawkins draws out the truth. fwb!Eddie

say it with your hands ☁ [1.1k] a fluffy evening with Eddie.

-

old blog - (these links are currently broken on mobile - they'll be fixed soon!)

nothing else matters - e.m - you decide it’s time to confess how you feel to your best friend. braced for disaster, you have no idea what’s coming. ☆☁

deny me, I dare you - e.m - Eddie gets a sudden urge to marry you. ☁

smoke signals - e.m - in a moment of panic, you find yourself seeking comfort somewhere relatively new. ☁ϟ

begin again - part 2 - e.m - you go on a weirdly normal first date with Eddie Munson. ☁ϟ

telepathy - e.m - you ask your boyfriend Eddie to comfort you in a new way. ☆☁

hero - e.m - a weird guy follows you home, but your knight (Eddie) in shining armour (his van) comes to your rescue. ☁ϟ

rohirrim - e.m - you’re home for Christmas and one of Steve’s infamous house parties turns into the reunion you’ve been waiting for. ☆☁

pick me up - e.m - Eddie makes your dream come true. ☁ϟ

next door - e.m - you think you might be in love with the boy next door. Until you know, you want to have some fun with him. ☆

panda eyes - e.m - Chronicling the day of Eddie’s graduation, the celebration that follows, and revelations on his bedroom floor the next morning. ☁(☆)

as soon as possible - e.m - you rent When Harry Met Sally and realise some things about yourself and your best friend Eddie. ☁ϟ

open - e.m - you have a turbulent relationship with your body and you tell Eddie about it. ☁ϟ

the guitar teacher - e.m - Eddie gets a job teaching kids guitar and it makes you broody as hell. ☁ϟ(☆)

miscellaneous:

Eddie pisses you off at school but makes a big show of his apology

Eddie comes home late from a gig and you pretend to be asleep

[usafphantom2]

SAC Crew Dog Alert Stories: An Introduction - Part 1

In 1989, I spent a lot of time trying to explain to my family what being on Alert was. The fire house analogy was the only one I could come up with. For seven days straights, a couple of times a month, we would move into the Alert Facility also known as the Shack and for the most part, sit around and do nothing. This story is how I remember it now, 30 years later.

The Shack was a building, in the fenced area at the end of the runway. It was built right next to the “Tree”, a aircraft parking location designed to make it very easy to takeoff in just a few minutes and from the air, it looks like a simple drawing of a tree.

We started our Alert tour on Wednesdays. So, we’d show up on Wednesday morning around Zero Seven Hundred (7:00 am for you civies) and park in the lot outside the fence and drag all the sh*t we would need for the week, clothes, books, razor, soap, shampoo, etc, plus all our professional gear, helmet bag, publications (a big heavy briefcase.)

At Loring Air Force Base (AFB) in Maine (ME), we had seven tankers on Alert. There are four crew positions, Aircraft Command, Copilot, Navigator and the Boom Operator, and this meant there were 26 other crew dogs doing the same thing as you. Some were married or had girlfriends who would drop them off and say goodbye, others were single, like me and we’d drive our cars there. One guy used to show up on his snow mobile occasionally, and another guy, who was a HAM Radio guy used to arrive in his RV with radio antennae’s sticking out of it all over the place (another funny story.)

The Shack was build was built partially underground. The bottom floor was where all the quarters were. There were three main hallways, with a couple of crossing hallways to connect them, and probably about 80 single rooms. Originally, the B-52s had also pulled Alert, they had six crew member per crew and maybe six or eight aircraft on Alert, but Loring had become a Conventional Bomber base during to one of the Start treaties, so the bombers were no longer there, thank the Lord.

The second floor in the Shack was above ground, and it was the main area. It had windows. The main entry door was at one end of the building, all other external doors were Exit only. There was a briefing room, a chow hall, various recreation rooms with TV’s and couches, and then an area for doing classified stuff that I could tell you about, but then I’d have to kill you. Classified briefing could be given in the main briefing room as well.

So, after you dragged all your sh*t, up the hill, showed your badge to get in the gate, then continue dragging your sh*t the rest of the way up the hill and into the main entry, show your badge again, get your room assignment, and drag your sh*t down to your room (seeing a theme here?) and sort it out, then it was time to get to work.

Time to find your crew and get to the briefing held at Zero Eight Hundred (8:00 am) sharp. And I do mean sharp. Time hacks, the process of synchronizing your watch with the master timekeeper (usually a Navigator) was a big thing, was a very important thing and seconds mattered.

The presenter of the briefing would brief us. Thinking about it, I can’t really remember what they talked about. Most of the time I was half asleep, I do remember that, but not on change over day. They’d discuss the weather, what crazy Ivan was doing, status of the airplanes, stuff like that and when they finished, it was time to head off to the aircraft.

The airplanes were kept at the Cage. Tankers weren’t allowed to use the Tree (even though it was empty), because… well… because we were tanker Toads. We didn’t drop bombs, so we weren’t really all that important (until they needed gas that is.) Our parking location was across the runway in the other fenced off parking area. In order to get in, you had to be Pre-Announced (another funny story) and the AC or Copilot would usually call over and let them know we were coming.

While someone was calling over, the Boom would get the keys to our Alert Truck. Each crew had their own truck, a Ford or Chevy Crew Cab 4 door pickup. There were also a few extras that could be borrowed if you were important enough, but mostly each crew had to share amongst themselves.

The Boom always drove the truck when the crew was together. It was tradition, and God help the Aircraft Commander who tried to buck it. Next stop, the Cage to preflight the aircraft.

(I missed a part here… so I’m adding it now) When going to airplane to pre-flight it, you also needed to bring all your professional sh*t, oh, I mean gear. It was a big bag, filled with cold weather gear and other stuff. Bigger than a duffle bag, and heavier too. It had to have all the correct stuff in it, or else. And from time to time, they would actually check it, so you couldn’t skimp. It had to be dragged out of the truck, up the crew entry chute (a ladder to get you to the flight deck) and then secured (tied down) to the floor in the back of the aircraft. Four bag, one for each crew member, and one more for the flying crew chief. Getting one of the themes here? We were always dragging our sh*t around all over the place.

The aircraft was always, and I mean ALWAYS, ready to takeoff. The entire pre-flight right up the step where they Start Engines was already accomplished, but there were a couple of exceptions. For instance, you could not leave the battery switch on because that would kill the batteries. Each and every morning, you had to go to the aircraft and make sure that everything was up to snuff. With Loring having a cold climate with lots of snow and very low temperatures, we had a few extra things that needed to be done. The engines had to be covered to keep snow and ice out of them, and the wings had to be kept clear too.

Although we had crew chiefs to take care of the airplane, the decent thing to do was to give them a hand if it was needed, operationally, the brass wanted everything ready and they didn’t care who, or how and why, just get it done. Being the only enlisted member on the crew, it was often the Boom who was elected (or just plain old ordered) to help them out, but only after we’d finished our part of the pre-flight.

In my early days, we were still flying on the KC-135 A model which did not have a usable Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) and used Injected Water to provide additional thrust for takeoff. Water freezes – and Loring is cold, so the water needs to be heated. That was my job, and the crew chiefs and, you guessed it, it sucked. An external power cart, known as a Hobart, needed to be plugged into the aircraft. The electrical power it provided enabled the use of the water heaters, which probably used enough energy to light up the entire base. There was a warning in the Dash One (the Bible that told us all about the KC-135) that said, “Do NOT turn on all the water heater switch at the same time.” There were five heaters and a switch for each one.

Rumors had it that once upon a time, a boom did exactly this, and the load caused the Hobart to flip over and die. (Hobarts are big, probably weighing 5,000 lbs) Not good, especially on Alert, where THE AIRPLANE MUST ALWAYS BE READY TO TAKEOFF!

Fortunately, water was not always needed. If the temperature got very low, the engines didn’t need it. But, unfortunately, the only way to get rid of the water was to dump it out of the bottom of the airplane and onto the ramp where it promptly froze into the shape of a very nice skating rink. Lovely.

The airplanes were fueled up to the maximum Emergency War Order (EWO) takeoff weight, which was right around 290,000 lbs. A bit more was added, allowing for the fuel burned off while taxi’ing. They were very heavy, and it was hard on the airplanes having them sit on the ramp with all this weight.

So, moving on, we’d get the preflight complete and head back to the Alert facility. There was ground training to be done and briefings to attend. First, studying your mission. You need to know where you were going, who you were refueling, and where you were landing (or bailing out as the case might be.) They weren’t kidding, you really needed to know. There was a test! And if you failed it, it was a disaster, I mean, they’d run you out town on the rails! You’d be the laughingstock of all your peers. (I really want to use the term “No Joke” but somebody has ruined that statement.)

So, you did your studying and after that it was usually lunchtime. Hmm, personally, I always thought the chow hall food was good. But then again, I think any food prepared by some else is good. I can’t stand cooking, and this worked out well when I was in the Air Force because someone else always did the cooking.

Lunch was also always a very social event. Long tables with crews sitting together inevitably lead to storytelling, and let me tell you, some of the guys were superb. They would have us in stitches for hours. Sometime the stories were sad, sometimes funny, but they were always entertaining, and they became the lore over time, being repeated and discussed over the years.

Somebody actually created a book, handwritten, with text and drawings, which included many of those stories that was kept down in the crew quarters. I wish to the Lord above; I had that book. It was gold. It was passed around, amongst the crew members to read during the huge amount of time they had when they were just doing nothing.

And I think at this point, lunch time, I’ll end Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2 which will start with:

A Nap

Photos:

KC-135 62-3580 – The Moose Is Loose (not sure it was an A or an R as this point)

View of the flight line in the summertime, around 1992-4

@tcamp202 via X

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots

Ninth Circle Ink was hardly more than a stone’s throw from the flower shop; Aziraphale knew from past experience that it took less than thirty seconds to go from door to door (forty-five if you had to wait for a car to pass). It had been a perfect arrangement in the beginning, when they were just starting out. Owning a flower shop across the street from your boyfriend's tattoo parlor is fun and adorable. Owning a flower shop across the street from your ex-boyfriend's tattoo parlor? Not so much.

Length: 42,373 Words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, Slow Burn, Slight Angst, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by gutsandglitter

*Minor Spoilers* This story was written in 2019 but reading it now after season two...hm..extra ouch. In this Human AU, Crowley and Aziraphale were together for 14 years before separating and still own shops across from each other. The perspective changes from present to past and we slowly learn what happened to them. It's devastating at times, learning something from their history and then coming back to Aziraphale's present day heartache. It's so heavy on him. It's primarily an Aziraphale point of view, yet you'll still be able to pick up on Crowley's feelings very clearly. Of course Aziraphale misses all the signs, it's a fanfic after all. No romance brain cells allowed here folks.

Internalized homophobia is one of our main themes here. It's something all of us LGBT people know intimately, and I'm sure we've all had experiences that mirror Aziraphale's and Crowley's in this. Fear, shame, having to hide, being hidden. It's heartbreaking but cathartic to read a story that knows this feeling and doesn't villainize Aziraphale for his actions here. He may blame himself, but the story doesn't.

It's not all gloom though! The present day is filled with scenes with The Them, Anathema, and Madame Tracy that I really enjoyed. I love Adam's matchmaker schemes and how it never goes to plan. In the past, the original character of Elsie was one of my favorite parts of the entire story. She was the original owner of the shop Aziraphale now runs and becomes family to our boys. It was such a wonderful and heartfelt found family story line to go along with their new found family in the present. While there is a lot of heartache in this story, there is also so much love!

Completely safe in public. It'll break your heart a bit, but it's ends on a very good note and I wouldn't classify this as angst. Slight angst yeah, but it's not depressing. Well....2004 is a bit depressing....good luck with 2004....

Read it here, fic by gutsandglitter

[dummerjan]

a get to know you better meme

tagged by @zozobruh - Thank you! <333

do you make your bed? No. I do turn turn up the blanket so it can air out but that's it.

what's your favourite number? There's 3, and then 9, then 12, then 16 (but only because that's the day of the month I was born), then 21 (for non-SKAM reasons actually), then 27. 3 is the dominant theme. I like to do things in a set of three, but not compulsively. There's a bit of a system to and a whole story behind the numbers. I could go on a whole spiel. It also goes back to me playing around with words and syllables when I was around 8. I used to collect words with 9 letters.

what is your job? Don't have one.

If you could go back to school would you? What school? Elementary? No thanks. Also not secondary. Or night school. Regular school does not work for me, too autistic and the system too... well, a system. People are assholes, teachers included. Most of my schooling was done via distance learning and I definitely don't want to go back to that either. But also, I am attending school right now (vocational school) and I intend to further my education afterwards. I'd really like to learn how to properly draft and construct patterns and/or acquire the master craftsmen certificate in tailoring (or however you say meinen Meister machen).

can you parallel park? I don't have a license and I hope to make it through life without having to learn how to drive.

a job you had that would surprise people? None.

do you think aliens are real? Earth being the only inhabited place seems unlikely. Though I highly doubt they are how we have pictured alien life forms.

can you drive a manual car? If I did have a license, I'd be able to since that is the norm in Germany.

what's your guilty pleasure? I don't know... really bad smut? I have horrendous taste in that, I really do.

tattoos? I love them on other people, from a single or a few to lots of skin being covered, and all kinds of styles. But I don't have any myself and I don't think I ever will. I just couldn't be bothered. Way too indecisive and uncertain to decide on a design, and then the work put into researching which artists are the best, nevermind that I am scared of needles. And then afterwards it won't look exactly how I pictured it, especially after a few years or even decades. Oh, and the price! I do admire them on other people but I just don't think it's for me, too much hassle and not enough passion for it. (But if I would get tattos, I suspect I would get an Against Me! quote tattooed. Something from True Trans Soul Rebel. And an AJJ one.)

favourite colour? Dark blue.

favourite type of music? *panicked screaming* I listen to way too many artists (or sometimes just a single song) from all over the world and from all kinds of genres. And while there are genres I really like, I rarely will listen to more than a few representatives. But I can say that right now I really enjoy late Soviet/90s Siberian punk (Yanka Dyagileva and Egor Letov).

do you like puzzles? Yep. I don't know who but someone on tumblr got me into online puzzles last summer. (They did a Jeff puzzle.) I like those.

any phobias? No proper phobias.

favourite childhood sport? I didn't really do sports. In fact I hated sports, still do. Worst of all was school sports class, I had a stomach ache every the evening before. But my family was active and we regularly went swimming, rock climbing, hiking. I did horseback riding for several years but it was therapeutic.

do you talk to yourself? In my mind yes, but rarely out loud.

what movie(s) do you adore? I adore Latin American movies though I can't say I have seen too many. (Quemar las naves, María, llena eres de gracia and El cielo dividido are my favourites.) I enjoy Nordic comedies, not just with Mads Mikkelsen but I really do like those. (The last one I watched was Riders of Justice though I really wouldn't classify it as comedy. It has comedic elements.) I like movies with open, ambiguous endings, ones that leave you a bit unsatisfied, ruminating, on edge. When they linger. I don't like it when movies make it easy for me. And above all else I adore Astrid Lindgren movies. I feel like so many conversations I have lead to me mentioning how much I love them but it's true. I really, really do.

coffee or tea? I don't (can't?) drink coffie and when I drink tea, then not black (or any other proper tea) but herbal and spiced tea.

first thing you wanted to be growing up? I think a teacher? I adored and really looked up to my elementary school teacher. I loved German and correcting texts so I wanted to be like her.

tagging @lady-guts @thestrangeillusion @toppingjeffsatur @scattered-stardust @sitron-sunni @die-schwanenkoenigin

[animasola86]

Nebbia's Origin Story

You might have seen and/or read about my HL MC Nebbia DeLuca, who I kinda revived for my HL playthroughs. But this very OC has been in my brain and in several attempts at writing her story for almost a decade now.

She's also been a shotgun/blood magic wielding Templar in The Secret World/Secret World Legends, or a necromancer with a greatsword and a staff in Guild Wars 2, and a car collecting maniac world explorer in GTA Online. So having "just" a wand was quite the adjustment for her!

But enough about her alter egos, how did she come to be?

She's been in my brain ever since I came into contact with The Last of Us. That game had a serious impact on me and the stories whirling through my head. I've always been a storyteller, have written stories since an early age. I've created a lot of original characters, fleshed out, with detailed backstories, but I was never able to finish their respective stories.

The themes were always pretty similar: younger woman, older man, size difference, gruff but protective male, innocent but feisty female. Side characters were always of the jealous, dangerous kind. I've always loved taboos and kinks, and the above-mentioned dynamic is one of my favorites to write (and read) stories about.

So, inspired by Joel and Ellie's relationship, I wanted to create characters that were similar, but different. My main motive for writing was always: Something's missing in those stories, let's write it myself! It started with adding romance to a thriller, love to a murder mystery, or found family/forbidden feelings to otherwise "innocent" scenarios.

For example, I've written a story about a young woman falling in love with the married father of the kid she's supposed to babysit (I swear there's more to that story than the porn clichés, it ends up turning into a psychological drama about jealousy and domination, mental illness, murder, abduction, what's real, what's not kinda scenes; unfortunately I've never finished my first proper original work that's sitting on a USB-stick somewhere since 2011. One day I'll get to finish your story, Tasja, don't worry. You'll get your happy ending!).

And then, someday in the year 2017, I started writing a story (though the idea is much older) about a post-apocalyptic world, based on an island near my hometown. I've thrown ideas around and around, researching, visiting places, creating characters, always changing something, but the basic idea that stuck was this (I suck at summaries, btw, sorry!):

Twenty years ago, there was a black-out and society collapsed. The people on that island live in groups, as far away from each other as possible to avoid conflict, as they are all stuck there, with no way to leave the island.

Enter Nebbia, born after the End, who is a girl living in an all-female village run by a group of older women called the Elders, whose daughters (creatively named the Daughters) do all their "dirty work". Nebbia is classified as a Motherless, you guessed it, lives without a mother.

And the backstory of that, in short, is: her mother was pregnant when she was found by one of the Daughters and brought to the village, gave birth, and fled the place after she discovered their dark secret (because what's a post-apocalyptic community without a dark secret, eh?), but she left Nebbia there because she knew she would have a safe home in spite of it, that is until she turns 18, when things go really dark.

In short: there's a strange little celebration, all the girls of age are dressed in their best dresses, and then leave the village on their way to another village nearby that is run by the Men... and, uh, well, yeah, society collapsed, so they try to rebuild it, it's a breeding station, oops, you get the idea.

And that is when our male protagonist comes in: Ben, in his late thirties, a gruff, lonesome smuggler/outsider/person who doesn't have a village/group, but works between them. And he is hired by none other than Nebbia's mother, Kira, to get Nebbia and save her from the horrible fate of being bred helping society grow again.

But something happens (there's a mysterious fog that keeps the people from leaving the island, but never mind that, although that is why Nebbia is called Nebbia, because fog=nebbia in Italian, because her mother is half-Italian - also, hey, off-topic, but there's a fitness clothes store called Nebbia in the Slovak Republic, isn't that cool?) and Ben loses his memories, and when he sees Nebbia, he thinks she's Kira... and kinda falls for her, because, of course, him and her were sweethearts before the End (but they had a falling out, but he doesn't remember that yet).

And Nebbia is this innocent girl, who basically worked as a slave her whole life, can't read, can't swim, is treated very poorly, can't exist outside her village, really. (And to have such a character and let her explore the world and learn stuff and blossom would have been so interesting to write!)

So Ben saves kidnaps Nebbia from the village, and they try to find their way back to Kira... and somehow this is where my ideas froze. I wanted to show their journey through the post-apocalyptic world, how their life is, what they do to survive, who they meet, that he slowly regains his memories and realizes his feelings for this girl, and once they get to where they want to go, they find out that Kira is gone/dead/I don't know, something, aaaand their journey continues? I have no idea. I never came to those parts.

I've written so many versions of that story, in German to start with (because the island it's set on is a German island), then tried recreating it in English without the local color, but it never really worked. I didn't know where it would end.

But the characters remained inside my head, I've had so many scenarios for them because I loved their dynamic, but I've never written any of them because back then I thought I needed a full story, something with beginning and end, the whole deal. I've never written one-shots before, or even short stories. I was fixated on the whole "novel" thing, that was my goal, my dream.

But now, after having written sooo many one-shots for a fandom, just snippets of people's lives and what they do in the moment, I feel confident enough to tackle it. To create little short stories centered around those very characters: Ben and Nebbia.

I've also read so many original works on AO3 lately, and seeing how people just put their own ideas out there, for everyone to see, did something to me. I always wanted to keep my ideas to myself, because, maybe, someday, I'll finish a story and could send it to a publisher and one day have my own work in book-form, but honestly, it is such a daunting idea, when all I wanna do is tell stories.

And so now I will just tell stories. I've started by writing for these characters everyone knows and loves (and I'll keep writing Sebastian smut, don't worry!), but now it's time to branch out, give those people inside my head their story, or at least snippets of their lives, and share it with the world.

And as I write this, I am working on an AU of those characters, with a completely different setting, but the same dynamic: older man, younger woman, gruff/protective vs. innocent/feisty, love in dangerous environments. Of course, it's gonna have my usual smut elements, but also world building, side characters, character development, etc. and new things to research!

(Lemme throw in some words I learned that may give a hint to where the story is set: withers, spats, stirrup. As for the time, well, it's actually an era I've already written for, but the place is a lot more... west, way west.)

I feel very inspired, and I hope I can one day (hopefully very soon*) share their story with you.

(I've made a side blog @animasolaoriginal where I'll post it once it's done or I grow too impatient to wait! I'll also post moodboards and inspirations there - eventually! If you'd like to follow me there too, I'd very much appreciate it!)

Thank you for letting me get this out. These characters are very dear to me, and I hope, once I start uploading my original work, I might catch your interest with it, and you will start to like them too!

Edit: *I did it, I posted the first chapter! 🤠

[randomperson99sworld]

Ruffled Feathers 🪶

~ Part 54 ~

Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?

Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly), physics abuse (Not from Dean).

Word Count: 1,543

A/N: Ugh, don’t you just love them? This is the last chapter guys! But don’t worry, I have a few bonus ones for you :) I’ll be posting them tomorrow sometime. I hope you guys have enjoyed the story! Stated as always, this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️

The days had blurred together since their conversation in the car. Dean had done everything he could to keep Julia comfortable, giving her space when she needed it and staying close when she wanted company. He was at a loss for what else he could do, feeling like all the fixes he usually had for things didn't apply to this. But then, one morning, while sipping his coffee and flipping through the local paper out of habit, something caught his eye.

A small ad in the classifieds section:

"Border Collie, 2 years old, needs a new home. Owner is ill and can no longer care for him. Great with people, fully trained. Name is Buddy. Call if interested."

Dean paused, rereading the ad. A dog. He remembered Julia mentioning once, long ago, that she had always wanted a border collie when she was a kid. It was a fleeting comment, made in passing while they'd been driving to a hunt, but it stuck with him. Now, with everything that had happened, maybe... just maybe, this could bring some light back into her life.

He didn't waste any time. Dean dialed the number in the ad, spoke with the elderly woman who could no longer care for the dog, and within a few hours, he was driving over to meet Buddy.

Buddy was perfect. He was full of energy, his tail wagging as soon as he saw Dean, and Dean couldn't help but smile at the dog's enthusiasm. He loaded up Buddy, bought all the essentials—dog food, leash, toys, a water bowl, a food bowl, even a bed for him. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he could feel a sense of hope brewing in his chest.

Dean unlocked the front door and let Buddy inside, who immediately sniffed around the place, getting used to his new environment. Julia was upstairs, probably resting, so Dean decided to let Buddy explore while he set up the food and water bowls in the kitchen.

He was just about to call her down when she appeared at the top of the stairs, looking a little confused.

"Dean? What's going on?" she asked softly.

Dean turned, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Come down here. I want to show you something."

Julia walked down the stairs cautiously, her eyes scanning the living room. Then she saw him—Buddy, sitting patiently by Dean's side, his tail wagging slightly as he looked up at her with big, brown eyes.

Julia's eyes widened. "Dean... is that...?"

"His name's Buddy," Dean said, stepping aside to let her approach. "He needed a new home, and I thought... maybe you two could help each other out."

Julia stared at the dog for a moment, processing what was happening. Then, slowly, she knelt down in front of Buddy, extending her hand toward him. Buddy sniffed her hand, then licked it, his tail wagging harder now.

For the first time in almost two weeks, a real smile spread across Julia's face. It was small, but it was there—genuine, warm, and for a brief second, Dean saw a flicker of the old Julia.

"He's... perfect," she whispered, running her fingers through Buddy's fur. "I've always wanted a border collie."

Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the two of them. "Yeah, I know. Figured it was about time you got one."

Julia looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes—not from sadness this time, but from something else. Gratitude, maybe. Hope.

"Thank you, Dean," she said softly.

Dean gave her a nod, his heart swelling at the sight of her finally finding a little bit of joy again. "Anything for you, Jules."

Buddy nudged her hand, clearly enjoying the attention, and Julia let out a small laugh—an honest, unguarded sound. Dean couldn't help but grin. This was exactly what she needed, and maybe it was exactly what he needed too. A little reminder that life could still have moments of happiness, even after all the darkness they'd been through.

For the first time in a while, it felt like things were starting to turn around. Dean could see the light coming back into her eyes, little by little. And maybe, just maybe, they could both start healing.

As Julia continued petting Buddy, Dean quietly moved to set up the rest of the things he bought—dog food in the pantry, the leash hanging by their keys, toys scattered around the living room, a cozy bed in the corner. When he turned back to look at Julia, she was sitting on the floor, Buddy curled up beside her, his head resting in her lap.

Dean felt like everything might just be okay.

As the evening wound down, Buddy had finally settled in, sleeping peacefully on his new bed in the corner of the room. Julia and Dean spent the rest of the night in quiet conversation, catching up on small things, talking about memories, and how she was starting to feel more like herself again. The lightness in her voice had returned, at least a little, and Dean couldn't stop stealing glances at her.

Eventually, it was time for bed. Julia stood up and stretched, giving Buddy one last pat on the head before heading toward their room. Dean followed close behind.

Once inside, the familiar warmth of their shared space brought a comforting sense of normalcy. Julia turned to face him, her smile soft and full of gratitude.

"Dean... thank you again for Buddy," she said, her voice sincere. "I didn't realize how much I needed him... you've done so much for me."

Dean smiled, stepping closer. "You don't have to thank me, Jules. I'd do anything to see you happy again."

For a moment, they stood there, gazing at each other. Julia reached up and touched Dean's face gently, her thumb brushing along his jaw. "You've always known what I needed, even when I didn't. I don't know how you do that."

Dean shrugged slightly, his voice low. "I just... I care about you. I always want to make sure you're okay."

The air between them shifted, something deeper and unspoken passing through the space. Julia's hand lingered on his cheek, and before either of them could think about it, their faces were close, breaths mingling in the quiet.

Dean leaned down, closing the gap, and kissed her softly. It started out gentle, slow, but there was a growing intensity between them—something that had been simmering under the surface since they got back from the bunker. Julia responded immediately, pressing her lips against his with more urgency, and Dean's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second. Dean's hands roamed over her back, feeling the familiar curve of her body, while Julia's fingers tangled in his hair. The tension that had been building over the past two weeks seemed to explode all at once, and without another word, they both knew where this was heading.

Not wanting her to rush back into things, Dean pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, "You sure about this?"

Julia looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire but filled with certainty. "I'm sure," she whispered, her hands already moving to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward.

That was all the encouragement Dean needed. He quickly shrugged out of his shirt, and Julia followed suit, shedding her clothes until they were both standing there, bare and vulnerable, but completely in tune with each other.

They moved to the bed, their bodies tangling together as they kissed again, more fervently this time. Dean's hands were everywhere—on her waist, her hips, her thighs—exploring every inch of her as if he couldn't get enough. Julia responded in kind, her fingers tracing over his skin, feeling the heat and strength of him beneath her touch.

It wasn't long before the intensity built to a point where neither of them could hold back any longer. Their breaths were ragged, hearts pounding as they finally gave in to the desire that had been simmering between them for so long.

They came together in a rush of heat and need, their bodies moving in sync, and for that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Not the pain, not the loss, not the nightmares. Just them, together, finding solace and comfort in each other.

As they lay there afterward, their breathing slowly returning to normal, Dean held Julia close, his hand gently tracing lazy circles on her back. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt... peaceful again. Like everything was right, even if just for tonight.

Julia nestled into his chest, her fingers resting lightly on his skin. "I love you, Dean," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

Dean tightened his hold on her, his heart swelling at her words. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring softly, "I love you too, Jules. More than anything."

And in that moment, as they lay together in the dark, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

[chillibeanos]

WELCOME TO THE APOCALOVERSE

"WHEN PUSH COMES TO SHOVE AND OTHERWORLDLY POWERS COME INTO PLAY, THE BEST THING YOU CAN DO IS TO EMBRACE THE WEIRD!"

hi there!!! the name's Chilli!

You may know me from other platforms, in-game tags or in real life! Well, whatever the case may be, I'm excited to have your attention! :3

More about me:

I go by Chilli or Max! Whatever you prefer

I like various franchises and hobbies but my main interest is my own ocs! I hope you love them as much as i do!

I have a huge passion for art and film! I'm hoping to one day become an animator, screenwriter or storyboard artist.

My best buddies are @local-soda-can, @pastriibunz, @your-favourite-goat and @eretsimons12!!!

WHAT IS THE APOCALOVERSE?!?

The Apocaloverse is a collection of stories derived from various sci-fi, supernatural, horror, comedy, old-timey and fantasy elements.

With 4 stories in total, each tells the tale of a protagonist in their daily life within the town of Auburn, USA.

Although, not all is as it seems...

Every story has angsty moments and elements that can tug at even the strongest of heart strings. Every character is also crafted to have a sense of immorality and moral greyness. No characters are going to be completely goody-two shoes in this franchise, sorry.

Below are the individual stories and their basic premises:

THE MISADVENTURES OF BEAN SPROUT

Classification Rating: MA 15+

<MA 15+ rated material contains strong content and is legally restricted to people over the age of 15. It contains elements such as sex scenes and drug use that could have a strong impact on the viewer.>

Following the life of the titular Bean Sprout, a galactic rabbit hybrid outlaw, as they go through the trials and tribulations of their daily life.

After being separated from their mother at a newborn age and being experimented on, they've lost all hope for life and resort to violence and hostility due to those experiences. They are noisy and chaotic and cause all sorts of shenanigans whether it's dropping anvils on passerbys, having affairs with random people, being a terrible mayor to Auburn or just being just a huge dick in general, they always know how to be a menace to society.

This all changed after a while though. After a heist gone wrong, they began getting hunted by the Nebula Enforcement Bureau, an intergalactic and interdimensional organization bent on exterminating any major threats to the universe. Bean happened to get on this list and is now hunted everywhere and everyday of their life.

Will Bean be able to defeat the 10 NEB segments and move on with their daily life of crime or will the universe come apart trying to escape the never-ending cycle?

THE TIME CAVALCADE CARNIVAL

Classification Rating: M

<Films and computer games classified M (Mature) contain content of a moderate impact. M-rated films and computer games are not recommended for children under the age of 15. They include portrayals of elements such as violence and themes that require a mature outlook>

When Noah Rosebud is taken by his sister to the exciting amusement park in Auburn known as Paradox Paradise, he expects what any 19 year old would: a relaxing yet fun laidback vacation to forget all the stress in life from being an adult now...

Also to celebrate his sister's birthday. That too.

When riding on one of the many roller coasters, disaster decided to strike. The track of the back roller coaster car derails, killing his sister by throwing her onto the steel beams. When he tries to save himself from impending doom, he stands up to try and grab onto the beams, hoping to latch on and be safe when the coaster eventually crashes. He then accidentally collides head first into one of the beams and...lives?

Noah finds himself in a confusing position. He's seemed to have found a weak point in reality itself, transporting him to a position between time and space. He is now traveling between different dimensions, looking for answers on what could have caused this...

With the help of interdimensional creatures, strange contraptions and celestial beings, he finds himself in a never ending struggle to make it back to his correct position in time, seeming to never come close to his goal.

Although, with all this fabric of time and space being messed with, a certain organization is not going to take these actions lightly...

MONSTERS AFTER DARK

Classification Rating: M

<Films and computer games classified M (Mature) contain content of a moderate impact. M-rated films and computer games are not recommended for children under the age of 15. They include portrayals of elements such as violence and themes that require a mature outlook>

After a seeming jump in time, Alicia Rosebud is a freshman in college, looking for a degree in computer science! She has been very successful in life from having good grades to being responsible so there's nothing she can't do.

She is still sad that her brother left town without a given reason though. That's gonna be a huge weight on her shoulders for a long time....

When exploring the basement for old computer parts for a project, she uncovers very cryptic lyrical notes, ethereal objects and dusty old books. Given the context clues, she thinks these must be from an old witch society. It's not until she uncovers a ruined carpet with a gateway to the underworld that the reality sets in.

Alicia goes on various capers with lost souls, overlords, creepy monsters and even one of the NEB segments!

Although...the horrors of the underworld and its existence bring a bit of thrill to the place...

LIMELIGHT

Classification Rating: R 18+

<R 18+ material is restricted to adults as it contains content that is considered high in impact for viewers. This includes content that may be offensive to sections of the adult community>

Reese Verlice is a starring comedian and songwriter with a sharp wit and hilarious sense of humor. There is never going to be a moment where he's not cracking a joke!

One day at his office in downtown Auburn, he meets Elijah Rodriguez, his new advisor/manager.

At first, he didn't think much of him, but that slowly developed overtime. They started talking and both of them were head over heels in love with each other.

With time, they came to marry, having the best time of their lives together as a gay couple. They would shower each other with love and affection on a daily basis while Reese still got to balance his celebrity job...

But as he got more famous, an opportunity came up.

A man by the name of Clastott Chamberlain offered Reese a substantial deal one day while he was in his office. With a lack of creativeness at the current moment, Reese accepted, not knowing his fate was sealed the moment he did so.

Reese started...changing. He was no longer as social as he used to be, his style of comedy and songwriting was vastly different and he also started to go down a spiral of alcoholism...

He was no longer at his best and struggles to keep up with the public demands everyday. His new fragile masculinity and violent tendencies are again tearing him and his family apart from one another...

It's like he's being...puppeteer'd in a sense...for the masses and their messed up form of entertainment.

Important Stuff

The Apocaloverse Discord Server:

Creator Tiktok:

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Credit for borders:

@saradika @saradika-graphics @benkeibear @enchanthings @urdadsfavegirlblogger

[sloshed-cinema]

Godzilla vs King Ghidorah [ゴジラvsキングギドラ] (1991)

Is it truly a ripoff if the scenes that are blatantly torn from other movies are some of the funniest shit I’ve ever seen? Buried deep within this gently absurd entry into the otherwise serious Heisei journey is a clip reel of all of Hollywood’s greatest hits circa the late 1980s and early 90s. Terminator? You got it, as villainous turned suddenly heroic android M11 escapes a burning car and sprints at superhuman speed to catch our heroes, equal parts T-11 and Ash from Alien (though his physique is more in that latter category, to be sure). Mustache-twiddling corpo-villains control the levers of power from the shadows. And our himbo hero says “Go on… make my day” as he shoots a thing on the UFO. This is pop culture fed through a pipeline of cable TV shows and imprinted upon impressionable minds. This is the stuff of Turbo Kid or maybe Psycho Goreman, earnest pulp homage made from a loving place, though this is more contemporaneous. All the same, I couldn’t classify this in good faith as an Asylum type film by any stretch. It simply cares too much. To that end, I also have to shout out the commitment to making a bunch of artificially inserted cute marketable creatures for the express purpose of making them the primary antagonist.

But the roots of Godzilla, no matter how goofy the outcome, have always been in existential horror and trauma. In its more serious veins, this film attempts to reconcile with the burgeoning economic successes of a Japan venturing into the 21st century. A figure who survived the initial incarnation of this avatar of destruction has gone on to become a corporate mogul and the harbinger of his own sort of terror as he owns nuclear weapons of his own. Godzilla was his savior in the Pacific Theatre, and becomes his executioner in the final moments, the two seeming to share a moment. Crucially, shockingly, King Ghidorah is briefly glimpsed destroying Hiroshima, the Atomic Bomb Dome visible in the foreground as these conquerors from the future seek to put Japan in her place. This is about resilience and defiance, uncertainty about how to move forward as a potential economic superpower.

Akira Ikufube’s score absolutely rips. Aside from the plodding, inevitable Godzilla theme, the opening sequences especially are rife with a dense and frenetic score. It has such interesting instrumentation compared to the usual reliable hits, opening on bass-register piano, timpani, and contrabassoon before being reinforced by a denser palette of woodwinds and pitched percussion than typical. Godzilla is evolving, and so are his harmonic sensibilities.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'UFO' or 'dinosaur'.

A time jump occurs.

Close-up of the Dorats.

Time paradox shit.

BIG DRINK

Blatant, amazing, bizarre Hollywood reference.

DO YOU BLEED, GODZILLA?

Flawless early 90s computer graphics.