#that's why I did the three faces in the bottom left corner

[simple-persica]

Day five of the art challenge is kicking my butt so I took a break and did some character design practice...then got too wrapped up in it.

Uuuhh anyway whoever he's gonna be paired with that princess character I drew a while back.

[yourgothiccqueen]

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks”

Summary: A grumpy reader meets her match.

Parings : Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: none except swearing - fluff and silliness!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I think just don’t give a shit about it!”

“That’s because you’re a boring cow!”

Y/N sat crossed legged on the grass outside her tent, sun beating down on her face as she half heartedly sipped on a capri sun. Spending the night lying on the floor had left her aching and exhausted, and she feared spending the day watching ‘cars go round in circles’ would truly tip her over the edge.

“I just don’t get why I had to come.” Y/N groaned. “You know loads of other people.”

“None of whom were free at short notice on a Sunday!” Y/N’s friend Annie exclaimed.

Y/N groaned dramatically. She was already hating the fact that she was going to be spending the day trying to shelter from the heat whilst pushing her way through crowds of obsessive fans.

“It’s the three things I hate the most - cars, people and outside.”

“Oh shush, you had to come because you’re such a joyous, positive influence in my life who I knew would jump at the opportunity!” Annie said, sarcastically. “Now stop being so bloody miserable.”

Y/N scowled and playfully swatted Annie on the leg.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“I know. Now drink your capri sun and cheer the fuck up.”

—————————————————————-

By 12pm Y/N had not, in fact, cheered the fuck up. She was truly finished with the world of formula one. So far she had queued for the loo, listened to some very loud music and spent an extortionate amount of money on a relatively small (and cold) hot dog.

Annie had long disappeared, claiming to have spotted some guy called ‘Fernando’ before rushing off into the crowd with a squeal, promising to meet Y/N at their seats later on.

It was beginning to get all too much for little Y/N L/N (😉) as she made her way throughout the bustle of people, eager to finally find someplace quiet to eat.

Eventually she found herself going through a set of doors (which definitely did not say staff only) as she found herself a quiet corner.

“Perfect.”

Before she could even take a bite, she heard a cough from behind her.

“Ermmm, what are you doing?”

Turning around, Y/N found herself faced with a relatively young man, wearing an orange cap with curls of brown peeking out the bottom. He looked strangely familiar, but Y/N couldn’t put her finger on it, and quite frankly she was too hangry to care.

“I’m eating my hot dog.”

The man smirked and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Y/N shrugged and said “ask stupid questions, get stupid answers” before taking a bite.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by the passive aggressive woman in front of him, who seemingly didn’t know who he was.

“Are you here for the race? Or do you work here?” He questioned.

“I’m here for the race. Are you?”

The curly haired man smirked slightly, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

Y/N crammed another bite of hot dog into her mouth “Well, enjoy. It’s all a load of crap if you ask me though.”

A look of intrigue on his face, he asked “what makes you say that?”

“It’s just boring!” Y/N exclaimed. “Car goes zoom, someone wins, hurrah - so bloody what?! What’s the point?”

The man looked back at her, a look of mild bewilderment and irration written across his face.

“Well yeah, the car is one aspect of it, sure. But it’s the drivers that bring that passion, that excitement every week. They’re the ones who shake things up and keep things fresh. They’re the ones who make it worth watching.” The man let out a small cough. “I mean, that’s my opinion anyway.”

“Hmm. So which driver should I look out for today then?” Y/N queried.

The curly haired man shot her a questionable look.

“Don’t you know the names of any of the drivers?”

Y/N shrugged “I know Lewis Hamilton.”

He let out a laugh and another smirk again “well, that’s a start I suppose.”

Y/N was getting sick of this man smirking at her. But then again, it was a very nice smirk. And he did seem like a very nice man.

“So, what are you doing here if you hate formula one?” The man queried, arms folded against his chest.

“My friend’s a big fan, and her boyfriend who was was meant to be coming has got the flu.” Y/N sighed. “As much as I hate being here, I’d feel even shitter if she came on her own.”

The man let out a small smile “Well, that’s nice of you to do that for your friend.”

He suddenly glanced down at Y/N’s lips, and appeared to take a step closer.

Was this mysterious, attractive stranger about to kiss her?

His thumb reached up to her chin and she couldn’t help but look up into his eyes.

God he had beautiful eyes.

She felt his thumb touch her skin with the gentlest of touches, and her eyes fluttered shut.

He smelt *heavenly*. What aftershave was he wearing?

“Sorry, you had some ketchup on your chin.” He let out a soft giggle.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and she felt herself return to reality.

“Oh!”

The mystery man let out a giggle as his thumb brushed against her chin - “all gone.”

She laughed. “Thank you. It’s not everyday a stranger wipes ketchup off your face. Did we just get to second base?”

The man let out a laugh (it’s a very nice laugh).

“Sure. I’ll count it if you do.”

An urgent shout sounded from a door behind them.

“I’ve got to go. It was nice chatting to you though.” The man stated. “And to answer your question, look out for Lando Norris today. I’ve heard he’s one to watch!”

“Will do.” Y/N called, still slightly stunned from the interaction.

A few moments passed before a security clad gentlemen rounded the corner.

“Oi, you shouldn’t be back here! Get back out the front!”

“Relax - I’ve finished my hot dog, I’m going!”

———————————————————

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, as Y/N sat close to Annie, eyes fixated on a certain McLaren as he reached his final lap of the race.

“And Lando Norris has finished in P2!”

Cheers erupted from around Y/N and she found herself joining it. Turned out that ‘cars, and people and outside’ could be pretty exciting - who knew?!

“Fuck yeah!” Annie shouted, jumping up and down.

The McLaren driver removed his helmet before waving up to the crowds, a grin plastered on his face.

Y/N’s own grin left her face.

“Oh shit. That’s the guy I met earlier!”

“What?” Annie exclaimed. “You met Lando Norris?”

“Yes! Is he a big deal?” Y/N stated, panic rising.

Annie glanced around them, signalling to the cheering crowds - “Duh! What did you say to him?”

Y/N gulped - “I shoved a hot dog in my mouth and told him formula one is crap.”

Annie stared. No words left her mouth.

Y/N could feel her face turning red. “I then proceeded to ask him if he was going to the race.”

A quick, sharp laugh left Annie’s mouth, before she fell into floods of hysterics.

“Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!”

Y/N could feel herself cringing.

“Oh god, I don’t know! Lots apparently!”

She glanced down to Lando again, to find him smirking up at her. He winked, before turning back towards his team.

“Oh my god, I’m never going outside again.” Y/N cringed. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Annie laughed. “I didn’t tell an F1 driver that his sport is crap!”

Before Y/N could respond, she felt a tap on her shoulder. A uniformed worker pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

“I’ve been asked to give this to you.” The woman smiled, before walking away.

“What is it?” Annie questioned, eyeing the paper.

Y/N unwrapped it, finding quickly scrawled words,

Hello Grumpy,

I hope the race was enough to change your mind about formula one. Here’s my number if you ever fancy a hot dog or a debate over ‘cars going zoom’.

LN xx

“What. The. Fuck.” Annie’s eyes widened.

Y/N grinned.

“Maybe I do like F1 after all!”

[peachysunrize]

Lemon Tart ⥃ Prince! Aemond (p.1)

Summary: after six years of searching for his lover, Aemond comes across her bakery in Flea Bottom with his betrothed.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, royalty x commoner, infidelity, Alicent’s a bit more uptight here, angst angst angst, oral (M! Receiving), mentions of war, they lost their virginity at 16, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.2k

a/n: hi!! I had to re-edit this and post it, I just had to lol. But given the circumstances, I hope you’ll ignore this if it isn’t your cup of tea. Do not make fun of my english please I’m not a native speaker🩷 reblog and comments are most appreciated<3

Shoutout to my girl, @namelesslosers , for beta reading my work🥹🫂

It disgusted Aemond to no end that King’s Landing’s streets smelt this horrible, and having his betrothed by his side, walking among the commoners only added to his unmanageable frustration.

Cassandra Baratheon was as tolerating as a Baratheon could be; exceptionally loud and obnoxious, clingy and always cheerful, and totally the opposite of Aemond. And when she set her mind on something, there was no way she would accept anything but whatever she desired.

That’s why Aemond found himself glaring at anyone who dared cross their path. He had to put up with his betrothed obsession as she stopped at every shop she could find, buying unnecessary things to waste his money on and be happy so he could do his duty without her nose sticking into his business.

He was cautious as they neared a bakery in the dark corner of the alley. Guardsmen were ready to slaughter whoever they thought was a threat to Prince and his beloved wife-to-be.

Cassandra approached the shop, looking at different pastries, cakes, loaves of bread, and little desserts that were freshly baked. 

“Aemond we have to buy some!” She whined like she always did when she wanted something. And he was sick of hearing that damned nose again for the millionth time that day.

“Of course,” he replied coldly. He gave her another bag of gold and ushered her closer to the bakery. He watched as people left the bakery as soon as they got closer, afraid of the One-eyed prince.

Cassandra stood behind the stool, watching as the baker – you –  ran around the little shop with haste to get every order done. She cleared her throat, head held high as she glared at your back for not answering her.

“When a Princess is standing in your presence, you will bow and do as she says,” she whines again, trying to push past the wooden stool to get into your shop.

“You are yet to be a princess,” Aemond caught her arm, pulling her back harshly as he kept his face emotionless.

You froze, turning towards the royal couple standing in front of your bakery. The white hair, violet eye, and leather eyepatch; you remembered him so well. Every second you had spent together was playing in front of you, and all of a sudden you felt as if the walls of the bakery were falling on you, but you had to appear strong, after all, you left everything behind and moved on.

“My prince,” you said with a shaky voice, “My lady, how may I help you on this fine morning?” You smiled at them, swallowing harshly as you tried to avoid Aemond’s gaze as he stared at you.

Maybe he didn’t remember you, but how much a person could change in six years? You looked the same, a bit more mature. You could see how he was fighting the urge to keep staring at you and figuring you out. You prayed to the old gods that he didn’t recognize you, you were nowhere ready to experience his famous wrath and cruelty.

“Finally,” The lady huffed, “a loaf of your freshest bread and three strawberry cakes. They look delicious, don’t they, Aem?”

Your heart dropped when you heard her calling him by the nickname he only allowed you to call him. Maybe they were closer than you thought, but at that moment Aemond proved you wrong.

“Don’t ever call me that again, do you understand?” He warned her, his eye boring into hers as he frowned down at her. She nodded immediately, looking at her joined hands in front of her.

“Anything for you, my prince?” Finally, you regarded him. You couldn’t breathe when his eye locked with yours. You didn’t know how to feel, fear? Yearning? Pain? Love? You just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. His gaze was intense like it had always been – since his childhood to now, he liked to look through everything and everyone, and then, he wanted to figure you out.

You wished for nothing but to melt away from his heated gaze as you waited for him to reply. He still had that effect on you which you became easily flustered around him, and it gave him a sense of power he had always craved.

“Lemon tart,”

You nodded and turned around quickly, not wishing to look upon his face anymore. He remembered everything, and he showed it with two simple words. You wanted to sob right there, but you had a job, and angering the prince of the realm and his future lady wife would be the last thing you needed.

You massaged your neck slowly as you walked to where you kept the sweets and cakes. The lady’s order was ready and you went to grab the latest lemon tart you had baked; lemon tart with sugar powder on top and slices of lemon and different berries – just how he liked. You could remember exactly from the day you opened your bakery this particular dessert was everyone’s favorite, and whenever you baked, it reminded you of how he would assist you.

Shaking your head to get rid of the beautiful memories, you put the cake inside the box and handed them all to the guards that were standing there.

“Is there anything else that you wish for?” you asked politely, looking at Cassandra, not Aemond.

“No,” He said curtly, grabbing the bag of gold from his betrothed and dropping it on the stool in front of you before he turned his back and left without another word being said. You thanked him quietly, watching him distance himself.

Why did it hurt to watch him leave? It shouldn't have hurt you at least, because you did the same thing, but never allowed him to watch you leave. You were just…gone from his life one day and he couldn’t do anything. Perhaps the gods deemed fit to punish you for your past actions, and years ago you had made your peace with it. But why did it feel like an arrow to your chest as you stared at his white hair that fell around his shoulders like moonlight waterfalls?

  —-------

  A few weeks passed and every day a royal guard would come to your bakery to order a lemon tart for his highness. You felt dreadful when you had to pack yet another box for The prince and all whilst you had to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

You didn’t get a blink of sleep because your mind was too occupied with Aemond Targaryen. You spent days crying and begging for the gods to take your life over the past six years but they didn’t. You were sure they wanted to see how you’d crumble to your feet and about the one that got away. The taste of happiness had been long gone from your life ever since you were forced to leave the castle; you had left your two loved ones behind.

One evening, you closed the bakery sooner, even though the guard didn’t come that day. The orange lights of the fireplace gave some sort of life to the dull room with all the scented candles you had lightened a few minutes ago.

A knock on your door brought you out of your train of thought. You were basically lonely in this neighborhood, just a few older shopkeepers who worked nearby, even your regular customers didn’t know you lived upstairs.

Aemond Targaryen was standing outside your door, with a brown bag in his hand. 

“My Prince, I-” You didn’t know how to react. You were confused, shocked, and a little flustered. 

“Can I come in?” He asked for permission, looking over your shoulder to see your home.

“Yes, oh, sure,” You stood aside, opening the door for him to walk in.

He was silent as he observed his surroundings. Your home was welcoming even though it was much smaller than his chambers, it still felt livelier than anywhere he had set foot in.

“I beg your pardon, this is not a place befitting you, my prince-”

“Nonsense, this is quite alright,” he replied hurriedly. 

He was anxious; the feared one-eyed prince was anxious about meeting his past friend – lover – and he couldn’t hide it. When he was near her, his emotions were all over the place. It felt right to tell her everything, he felt safe with her even after being apart for years.

“How can I help you then, my prince?” you asked, biting your lip in anticipation.

You couldn’t see his face, but you were aware of how tense his shoulders would get whenever you called him by his title. He had never been the prince for you, even when you were kids.

“Stop,” he inhaled, “stop calling me that.”

“I can’t, my price-”

“Yes, you can!” suddenly he raised his voice, making you flinch away from him, “Aemond is fine.” he continued with a hushed voice after how you retreated from him.

“I brought a few things,” He handed you the bag, finally having time to look at you thoroughly; your hair was down, you were wearing a simple loose dress that fell on your knees, and you were bare feet. You looked just as he remembered, so simple and gentle as if the gods had made you for him. Back then he thought you were sent from heaven, and now you looked even more beautiful with how mature you had grown.

“Eggs and milk?” you smiled at him, hesitant to know the reason.

“I thought perhaps we could bake a lemon tart together.” His words were rushed. He was scared of your rejection and you caught on to it quickly.

“Sure,” you replied, walking towards the little kitchen you had, “I know there isn’t much space…”

“It is enough for both of us,” 

“Alright, then let’s start, Aemond.”

You missed the weight of his name on your tongue, how you used to say it with joy and laughter, how you used to moan in it when your bodies molded together perfectly. And he missed hearing it from you. His name never felt the same after you left, not even when his sister said it.

You both started working in sync like old times when you’d sneak him into the castle’s kitchen and teach him how to bake different breads and pastries but Lemon tart was always his favorite — you had brought a piece of it for him after he lost his eye.

He remembered how you both would mess up the large kitchen at midnight with flour and fruit juices as you started baking together ever since the incident. Every night he’d meet you in the hallway near the maids’ rooms and you tiptoe towards the kitchen while giggling all the way.

You made him smile even at his lowest.

You started with pouring the milk and him taking care of the eggs, your bodies close to each other after years of running towards each other without ever reaching the destination.

You watched as he took off his leather coat and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing the flour he had found in one of your cabinets. You mixed as you observed his hands; rough cuts of sword swinging and dragon riding on them, and you saw the little mark of the place he had burnt himself while you were in the kitchen together.

You felt the heat of his body on your back while you were mixing the ingredients. He was close, so close that his hot breath was on your neck, his hands caging your body as soon as you tried to move away from him. He came there with purpose, and he wouldn’t back down until he got what he needed.

“Aemond,”

He quickly retreated from you, snatching the bowl out of your hands. You walked to the fireplace immediately, not daring to look at him. Both of you were on edge, you desired the closeness but the fear pushed everything down the cliff. You knew he wasn’t there just for a lemon tart, he was there for answers that you had buried deep down.

You had no idea how long it passed while you stared at the flames, but it had to be a solid two hours of silence when he came back with two plates and a lemon tart with sugar powder and chopped fruits on top – just how he liked it.

You put a piece on his plate and sat down as you stared at the tart in yours. It had been so long since you had been with him in a room, or baked with him. It felt strange yet so nostalgic. He sat next to you as he ate in silence, not once meeting your eyes but you knew his eyes were scanning you from head to toe. 

The first bite melted on your tongue, the sweet and sour flavors were always your favorite combinations. You smiled, remembering how much Aemond loved to add more lemon to the mix just to see how your face scrunched as you ate it. 

“It tastes delicious. Thank you,” you said, finally looking up from your plate to see him already looking at you with wide eyes.

He was always hard to read with all the walls he had built around himself. There were rare occasions that he’d smile or even laugh when you were around after the loss of his eyes. Eventually, he grew more comfortable around you, sometimes the little Aemond joked and tried to make you laugh.

He was a prince, and you were a maid’s daughter; you couldn’t be seen with each other, hence the reputation he had to uphold because of his title. At that time when you were both eleven, you found it funny how he couldn’t join you for meals, or how he talked when he was with his grandsire.

But as you grew up, the feelings that had been planted since your childhood bloomed and they became complicated and hard to ignore. You watched him in balls and gatherings on the king’s behalf, he dressed so well and you found your eyes following his every move. He danced with highborn ladies, who he told you were forced to do so, and you just stood in the corner of the hall. 

Your worlds were so different, he had a bright future ahead of him with his future lady wife and you? You had no idea what you wanted to do.

“Do you still bake in the castle?” You asked with a hushed voice.

“No,” it was curt, and you nodded your head in acknowledgment. After all, it wasn’t easy to talk about this particular issue.

“I am not keen on wasting my time, but I have a question that has been left unanswered for six fucking years.”

Aemond Targaryen was a man of honor and dignity. He held his chin high and burnt everyone by looking at them like the dragon he truly was — and he never cussed. Your eyes widened at how miserable he looked.

“Why did you leave?” His eye bore into yours as he glared at you. 

You were scared, you wanted to run away again, and you did — you stood up and tried to walk to the kitchen, but Aemond was fast on his feet and grabbed your elbow before you could make it past him.

“Don’t,” he warned you, and you had no choice but to oblige as he pointed at your bed in the corner of the room.

“Sit and give me an explanation for keeping me in the dark for six years.” He stood in front of you, holding his hands behind his back.

“Why did you leave?”

Your eyes watered, you couldn’t even form a word as you remembered how you left him. But he was in your house again, perhaps it could be your last chance to show him how much you loved him by explaining everything about your departure.

  ~ It happened so fast, Queen Alicent had come to the maids’ area with Ser Cole on the toe as they searched for her son who had missed breakfast. If it wasn’t for the girls who had talked about the noises they heard last night, she wouldn’t be able to find him.

She didn’t need to ask anyone to know which maid she should search for. She knew you and his son were friends, and as much as she disapproved you made Aemond happy, by just being his friend and nothing more. 

You were awake, doing your morning duties in the kitchen. You hummed and baked the sweets Princess Heleana asked you to while you thought about your night with the prince. You smiled to yourself sheepishly remembering he was still sleeping naked in your not-so-comfortable bed. The night was full of intimate moments, and he took his time with you; memorizing every curve of your body, every scratch. He kissed your scars and caressed the soft skin of your hips as he desired.

Sixteen and in love, what a blissful life.

Queen Alicent interrupted your daydreaming when she appeared in the kitchen, demanding the other maids to leave you alone. All the girls rushed out without glancing your way, too scared to even breathe as they filled out the kitchen.

You bowed, keeping your gaze on your feet as she glanced around herself. Never did you think you would see the queen in the kitchen, but there you were, and it could only mean one thing.

“Losing your virtue to the prince of the realm must be your highest achievement, Y/N.” Your heart dropped, sweat beading on your palms as you kept your head bowed down. You were caught, and all the punishment and consequences of your teenage sins would fall upon you — after all, no one dared to say an ill word towards Aemond Targaryen under his mother’s watch.

“At least now you can keep your mouth shut,” she sighed, pacing with her hands behind her back, “your lewd sounds were heard by the other girls. I know my son, he wouldn’t stoop this low to warm a maid’s bed. How did you trick him into this?”

You didn’t — couldn’t — say a word. Your mind was blank, the queen’s harsh words cut deep and you took the blow every time she spoke. She shouldn’t know it was Aemond’s idea, even if you told her, she wouldn’t believe you. 

“Look at me,” she grabbed your chin, yanking your face upwards with her fingers digging into your cheeks. Tears streamed down your face as you looked into Alicent’s eyes. 

“I love him,”

A simple confession that led you and Aemond to the current situation. He was the one to barge into your room and said those three words, and you followed him. He was your childhood friend, your baking partner, and he became your lover last night.

“Oh, so you love him. Well, if you truly love my son, you will leave the castle and stay as far away as you can from him. He has a future ahead of him, a duty to fulfill and you only drag him down to the mud with your filthy hands.”

She looked into your teary eyes, no sympathy in her voice as she gestured to Cole to escort you to your room. You couldn’t defend yourself, you were no one in her eyes, or anyone for that matter. Your only solace was Aemond, not the passionate lover nor the prince, just your friend, and then you were leaving him.

Cole waited outside as you gathered your clothes and found a little bag you found under the same bed Aemond was sleeping on. Quietly, you walked towards him, pushing a few of the strands of his hair out of his face. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. You pressed one last peck on his forehead and scar before you left him for good.~

Aemond stood in front of your bed, watching you sob as you told him what had truly happened that day. His face was emotionless, but you were good at reading him ever since you had spent nearly every day together. He clenched his fist, taking a shaky breath in while he listened to you.

Everything started to make sense when he was reminded of his mother’s words after he left your room to find you but he saw The Queen in the kitchen. She told him you left him with no remorse, you just took what you wanted from your Targaryen prince and left the castle wishing for his child to take — and he believed it.

But there you were; sitting on your bed, body shaking with sobs and tears, and no sign of a child around you. He had been fooled for years. He had been searching the entire city and couldn’t find you because of his mother and the City Watch.

He knelt on the floor, his eye telling you every word he couldn’t utter. You knew him like the back of your hand; he wasn’t good with words, and he was in disbelief at what you had told him.

You did what you had wanted to do for so long; you fell limp into his arms, hugging him close as your sobbing grew louder. The smell of sandalwood and leather was calming, the scent was a nice reminder of what it felt like to be close to him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, pulling your body impossibly close to his. He had to remind himself it was real that you were with him again and the agony of not seeing you was over.

He kissed your exposed shoulder like he always did when he tried to calm you down, and you melted within his arms. None of you dared to say a word, too afraid of breaking this blissful spell you had created. 

You pulled back a little to take a good look at his handsome face. His jaw had become a bit sharper, he looked more mature and gorgeous than you remembered. He looked like those princes from fantasy books who’d save you from a curse just by kissing you.

At that moment, all you wanted was to taste him. And taste him you did.

He met you halfway, his lips touching yours slowly. You moved together, chasing each other’s taste as you poured all the unsaid words into the kiss. The sugary taste of the desert you had was a cherry on top when his tongue met yours.

There was no rush, but the amount of lost time made you both hungry for each other.

You pulled his clothes off, latching your lips to his exposed neck. Aemond couldn’t care less about his betrothed, he had you in his arms, and being in an arranged engagement with the woman he had no feelings for was the last of his worries.

He stripped you out of your dress, his fingers brushing over your hardened nipples. He missed the way you sighed when you were content, and he wanted to make sure that he would create a wonderful night for you.

He sat on the bed with you straddling him, whimpering when you grind yourself down on his bulge. You kissed down his neck while he was kneading your breasts, pinching and squeezing the soft flesh here and there.

“Lay down, Aem.” You commanded gently, pushing him on his back while you sat on your knees between his legs, “I have a lot to make up for.”

His breathing became irregular as you kissed down his chest, hands roaming his toned body as you made your way down to his pants. You undid the laces and pulled the fabric down. He helped you take them off completely, leaving him fully naked to your lustful gaze.

His cock was already aching hard and you didn’t waste any more time before you grabbed him in your hands, stroking him gently. He looked at you through his hooded eye, watching you closely when you wrapped your lips around the tip. His head fell back on your pillow when you sucked on it a little. 

It had been so long for both of you to be intimate with someone else that it left you both impatient and needy for more.

You twirled your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your hot mouth. He was breathless already, and he was having a very hard time not unleashing the beast and taking you as he desired. So before his self-control vanished, he pulled you up and smashed his lips to yours. He couldn’t take it anymore, he would go insane if he wasn’t inside you for a second longer. 

You took your underwear off, feeling the wetness of your cunt dripping down your inner thighs a bit. Aemond helped you straddle him again with his hands guiding your hips back and forth on his cock as you rubbed your needy pussy on him.

You moaned — that sweet sound that he would burn the world for just to hear again. You kept yourself up by your hands on his chest as he helped you sit down on his cock, pushing him inside your welcoming hole with a whine.

You leaned down, pushing his eyepatch out of his face slowly, giving him enough time to stop you — but he never did. You looked at the scar that brought you to him, the sapphire that filled the socket glinted and you couldn’t help but press your lips to his eyelids as carefully as you could. He looked fragile beneath you, and you wanted to reassure him, to make him feel safe and wanted and loved again.

He stretched you out and filled you up perfectly. There was no pain, just a slight discomfort at first as you grew used to his size. Meanwhile, he thought he had died and he was in heaven. He had you on top of him — naked in all your glory — with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“I missed you, Aem.” It came out as another moan when you rolled your hips.

You rode him for long minutes, kissed, and spent time in each other’s arms as he gave you the pleasure you craved for so long. 

Aemond took you in different positions, he made love to you, fucked you at some point, and let you take control when he wanted to just worship your body. He would kiss wherever his lips could reach, and with each press on your skin, you felt fireworks throughout your body.

Your bodies molded together as you both came together; a long, heartwarming, and overwhelming release that you had been pathetically desiring for years.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t notice when he cleaned both of you and laid next to you on your bed. There wasn’t much space for both of you, so Aemond laid you on his chest as he snuggled closer to you. He breathed you in, wishing for this moment to last until his last day alive.

You fell asleep immediately, and you hadn’t been able to do so because it was always him who pulled you into a deep slumber. 

He felt safe enough to whisper his devotion into your ear while you slept in his arms. He hoped he could run away from the war and take you away on the dragon's back. He wanted to spend his days with you by his side, but he thanked the gods for this night even though he had not thought about what would be happening at dawn.

  —————

  The sun rose, and the first rays of sunshine hit Aemond’s face. He stirred a little, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he tried to fall asleep again. He didn’t want his time to end with you this soon before he was forced back to put on the mask again. 

The sound of horses and a carriage approaching the bakery was enough to put him on edge. He gently let go of you, pulling the covers over your body before he put on his eyepatch, white undershirt, and pants. He didn’t care if any of the commoners saw him there, after all, he would visit the neighborhood more often from now on.

He came downstairs, his eyes meeting his mother’s eyes as soon as she stood in front of the bakery. How did she know you were there, moreover, how did she know he was there?

“Your future wife has a large mouth, son,” Alicent said, watching his every move.

“What do you want?”

He tried to control his temper when his mother chuckled at his little burst of anger.

“Why her?” She asked.

“Because she makes me feel loved.” 

His answer was simple, and it made sense to the queen why he would choose you out of everyone. She remembered how you were always around Aemond when he was alone, you helped him with almost everything and never humiliated him, unlike his cousins and brother.

“She has to leave, Aemond—“

“You are not taking her away from me again!” He raised his voice, “Not when I have found the only source of the light in my miserable life. You will not sink your claws in her again, I will never allow you to ruin our chances of happiness.”

“We are at war, and you are promised to Lady Baratheon—“

“I do not care less about the names and titles,” he sighed, “not when she is who I have loved unconditionally for my whole life.”

Alicent walked closer to him until she could cuo his face.

“In the depth of war, love does not win, son. It is logic and pain and suffering that will bring us victory. We cannot fight against the wrath of Lord Baratheon when he hears of your affair.”

He was about to answer when you interrupted them.

“Her majesty is right, Aem.” You sounded so defeated and defenseless.

They both looked at you and for the second time in the time you had known Aemond, you saw him shed a tear. 

Queen Alicent stood back, giving you enough space to talk to him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I have to leave, for the safety of our love.” You said, pecking his lips gently. He kissed back immediately, giving you a final kiss before you vanished from his life again.

“Avy jorrāelan,” I love you.

“I love you, too, Aem. I love you so much.” You kissed him again hurriedly, and he kept you close, not wanting to let you go.

“I hope your seed takes this time so I can have you with myself wherever I go,” you whispered in his ear, “come find us after the war, so we can bake lemon tarts for our silver-haired kids.”

You broke apart and followed Ser Cole to the carriage they had prepared for you after you bowed to the queen.

You left him again with an oath he had to fulfill; he would come to find you when the time was right.

[cinewhore]

The Only Exception

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x fem!reader

read extended cut here [x]

Word Count: 2.6k 

Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxic family dynamics, smut 18+ (groping, male receiving oral, penetration, unprotected sex, facial cumshot). fluff and some angst! 

A/N: girlies, the whore jumped out! Takes place during episode 6 season 2. Credit to the gif creator! I hope y’all enjoy it. 

Nothing ever goes smoothly with the Berzatto’s.

Why you thought this holiday dinner was going to be any different was beyond any rational comprehension.

Trying not to be a complete klutz and ruin the side dish you’ve been working on the entire day, you delicately balance it in your left hand while adjusting your scarf tighter around your neck with your right. Putting a pep in your step, you round the corner from where you parked, spotting the stoop instantly.

It was a rare sighting to see all three of the Berzatto siblings together. With Carmy being away at culinary school, Mikey doing his own thing with the restaurant and Natalie living her life, one person always missed the other. It warmed your heart to see just how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t show it in a normal or healthy way.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mikey’s voice booms over the light traffic passing by, handing Carmy the cigarette he was puffing on.

You crack a smile, despite it feeling like your lips were stuck together due to the cold weather. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. Fuckin’ cat had my keys.”

“How many times did I tell you to get rid of the cat?” Mikey leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, forcing him to peck you on the cheek instead.

“C’mon, baby.” he drawls, throwing you a bashful smile.

You huff out a sigh, lowering your voice. “You know I hate the smoking.”

Mikey nods, face fading into something serious before vanishing. “I know you do. You didn’t bring fish, did you?”

Side-stepping the tall Berzatto, you get pulled into a hug by Natalie, followed by Carmen.

“Hello, gorgeous! It’s so good to see you!” Natalie kisses you on both cheeks before making the move to grab the dish out of your hands. You pull back, shooting her a look.

“Nat, please. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” you watch as her bottom lip quivers a bit. You steal a glance at Carmy, who just shakes his head.

“Fuck. How bad is it?” you gaze at the disheveled trio, awaiting an answer.

Finally, Mikey breaks the silence.

“It’s at a five. Six, at best.”

You lick your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. “That’s not too bad, right?”

“Right.” Carmy agrees, with Natalie humming in agreement.

“Just don’t fucking ask if she’s doing ok.” Mikey glimpses at his sister, placing hand on your lower back to guide you into the house.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, plastering a smile on your face before entering the shit show.

You’d only been there an hour and you were called the wrong name three times, objectified, cursed at and now Fak was trying to get you to put up five hundred dollars for baseball cards.

Listening with great intent, nodding at all the right times and twirling the wine glass in your hands desperately wanting to get another refill had your social energy spent.

“We could make you a lot of money, cousin.” Fak goes on, nudging his brother for support.

“Yeah-yeah! Think about what you could do with fifteen hundred bucks! Cold hard cash!” the lookalike chimes in.

“Wow, no, yeah this-this sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.” you murmur. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved Fak. His personality was infectious, you’ve never seen him get overly angry despite the other guys giving him shit constantly and he genuinely goes out of his way to help everyone. Back when you first started dating Mikey and moved apartments in the city, Fak volunteered to make sure your place was in tiptoe shape and refused payment.

Just then Steve, Michelle’s husband, passes by and you seize your opportunity.

“Steve! How are you?” you beckon him over, scooting over on the tiny couch so he could sit beside you.

“Ah, yes. Mikey’s girl who we aren’t sure how he managed to snag. Good to see you again.”

You brush off his comment with a tired smile, gesturing to Fak and his brother. “So, these guys have a proposition for you, right?”

You nod enthusiastically with them, giving Fak a secret wink.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Do you like baseball cards, Steve?”

“On that note,” you stand up and maneuver yourself out the nook. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Leave you gentlemen to handle business.”

Mocking a military salute, you dash towards the kitchen bypassing other members of the family.

Donna flurries around the kitchen, shouting instructions to no one in particular. You didn’t greet her as soon as you came in, knowing how she gets around this time of the year. To be honest, you were sure that she didn’t exactly like you.

“Donna, my goodness! You look wonderful.” you lay the complement on sweetly, smiling brightly. If you don’t wilt in her presence, she wouldn’t be able to smell the fear on you.

Donna swivels her head to look at you, cigarette dangling from her lipstick smeared lips. Eyes lined in thick mascara, her disapproving expression ripples through you. You smile wider.

“I brought over a little casserole. I figured it would compliment the fish nicely.”

Shifting to face you fully, Donna crosses her arms. “Casserole? What casserole?”

You point to the tin foiled dish. “That one. Mikey brought in, did he not tell you?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, just like he told me about him breaking things off with what’s her name.”

“Anna.” you mutter, swallowing the lump that quietly made its way up your throat.

“Yeah, Anna.” Donna turns back to the task at hand, haphazardly swinging a knife about. “I liked her better.”

Forgoing your much desired glass of wine, you stalk out of the kitchen. On the outside looking in, the Berzatto’s appeared to be your average family. The warm glow of the lights shining out into the frost covered sidewalks invited you in all those years ago and once inside, you then realized why people were so hesitant to accept invites or why Mikey refused to bring up his past.

You didn’t have this growing up. Your family life was much quieter, mom and dad both kept to themselves. Distant cousins never visited for the holidays and you were an only child so there weren’t any siblings to fall back on.

It was boring.

Drove you crazy.

So when the Berzatto’s welcomed you in with open arms (well, some of them) you threw yourselves to the wolves willingly. It helped you grow a thick skin, talk over people and man handle the biggest guys in the room. For that, you were thankful.

A hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, dragging you away from everyone and up the stairs. Mikey is headstrong in his quest to get you alone, not caring to see if you were keeping up the pace. You both stagger inside his room, the door shut soundly behind you, followed by the lock turning.

Mikey doesn’t give you a second to react, mouth leaving open tongued kisses along your jaw and collarbone, hands working at tugging up your skirt.

“Mikey, baby, baby, wait-” you plead, backing up to create space between the two of you.

He flops onto the bed, hands on his knees, fingers raking through his hair again and again.

You’re careful as you sit next to him, scratching your own fingers along the center of his back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” is all he utters.

“Bullshit. Talk to me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, you get it. The party continues below you both, profanities and insults flying like it's nobody's business. It was too much. For Mikey, Camry, anyone. The more time you spent with his family, the more you realized why Carmen never came back to visit. Why Michelle skipped out of town and up to New York. Anything to keep the family an arms distance away. 

Why Mikey feels trapped.

“I know.” you whisper against his shoulder, mouth pressing in tiny kisses. You lift his head up with both of your hands, cradling his face gingerly. The tiredness exudes for nearly every crevice, eye bags worn and solidified. You use your thumb to smooth out his forehead, laughing softly when he wrinkles it more.

“You’ll always have me, Berzatto.”

“I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

You tut. “That’s not true. You’ve always had me. From the moment you sold me that greasy, sloppy sandwich down at The Beef. I was a goner.”

Mikey chuckles, leaning into your hands more. “I got you something.”

Your eyes go wide, brows forming a skeptical look. “Is that so?”

Mikey flickers his eyes down to his pants and you scoff.

“Wow, Michael. Are you gifting me your penis? Again? I must’ve been too nice this year.” you gently slap his face in mock anger.

“Haha,” he deadpans. “Try my pockets, detective wiseass.”

You let go of his face and rummage through his pants pocket, producing a ball of torn tissue paper, kept together by a single piece of tape. Confused but curious, you unwrap the gift, facing dropping as your eyes find his.

The tissue tumbles to the ground, revealing a necklace. At the bottom of it dangled a charm of…cheese?

“I remember the first day you came into the shop. Like a goddamn bat outta hell. Never seen anything like it. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and asked for, um, what was it?”

“Havarti-”

That’s right! Fuckin’ havarti cheese! What the hell even is that?”

“How do you own a sandwich shop and not provide a variety of cheeses, I don’t understand it.”

Mikey gawks at you. “Babe, we’re called The Beef. Not the cheese. But you wanna know what I did?”

You encourage him to finish, as if you didn’t know the rest of the story.

“I told you to wait and-and I was gonna go check in the back. I booked it out of the back door, all the way down to Malik’s corner store and bought the most expensive cheese he had. I rush back to the shop and guess what?”

“You made the sandwich.”

Mikey’s face cracks into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I made the goddamn sandwich. Brought it out to you myself. Told you that we didn’t serve grilled cheese but for you, I’d make an exception.”

Your eyes well over in tears and you blink rapidly to keep them from falling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, ya know.”

“You’re telling me all I had to do was buy you some cheese to get in your pants? Hot damn.”

You playfully shove Mikey back against the bed, crawling over to straddle him. “Well, it worked after a while, didn’t it?”

Mikey thrusts upwards, growing erection sliding against your damp underwear.

“It sure did.”

He grabs the back of your neck, surging up to slot his mouth against yours. You aren’t delicate in the way you claw at him, nails digging into his tanned flesh. Pushing up your skirt, Mikey palms your ass, stroking it before landing a hard smack against it. You moan into his neck, biting down.

“Perkiest ass I’ve ever seen, baby, shit.” Mikey groans, voice an octave deeper.

“And it’s yours. All yours.”

Mikey secures the back of your head as he flips the two of you over, pushing you down on your stomach. You do the rest of the work for him, sticking your ass up, and curving your back into an arch.

Mikey readily pulls down the zipper of his pants, hands readjusting his briefs until he is able to free himself. Spitting obscenely in his palm, Mikey shoves your panties to the side and rubs his saliva across your slickness. You buck back into him, whimpering when he graces you with a lone finger to loosen you up. You whine and wiggle your ass some more, ready to receive all that he was going to give you.

“Gonna give my baby what she wants, don’t you worry.” Mikey purrs, aligning himself to enter you. He slides in easily, the strained sigh as he fully situates him inside you never ceasing to make you wetter.

You pull yourself up so that you were resting on your hands, peeking over your shoulder to catch a gaze at Mikey as you begin to fuck him. He was enthralled at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you, the way you were able to handle him without saying a single word.

He would love to take his time and thoroughly explore your cunt but time is of the essence. Wrapping his right hand around your neck once again, he yanks you up into a deeper arch, left hand on your hip in a deathgrip. He meets your thrusts with his own, dropping his left leg down on the floor to gain some balance.

Between the familial bickering creeping up the stairs, all that could be heard was the squelching of your pussy and the labored breathing of Mikey, muffled praises spurring you on further.

He slaps your ass again and you tighten around him, eyes rolling to the top of your head as you attempt to hold onto his arms for dear life.

“Mikey, oh fucking god, baby you’re gonna make me come so hard. Please, please, please!”

He answers you by sticking his fingers in your mouth and you automatically clamp down on them, sucking and gagging until spit dribbles down the side of your mouth.

Mikey picks up speed and the coil inside you breaks as you reach your peak, legs stiffening as you rear back against Mikey. He continues to fuck you, albeit at a slower tempo, humming as you spasm against him.

“That’s my girl, my favorite fucking girl. Where do you want mine, huh? Tell me where you want it.”

He removes his fingers and lets them trail down to tease and pick at your hardened nipples that now poke through your shirt.

“I wanna taste. Want it in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” Mikey lets you go and you catch yourself before you fall completely face first into the bed.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You do as you're told, scurrying to position yourself on your knees in front of Mikey. Mouth open and head tilted back, you let a hand caress your breast as the other slithers up his thigh.

Mikey is affectionate as he goes to grab the back of your head, other hand tirelessly stroking his cock. A vein pops out of forehead as he grunts, a few milky droplets coating your face, before steady ropes accompany it. A few of them land in your mouth and you swallow it all eagerly.

Mikey tries to calm his breathing, watching you with hooded eyes as you lick at the tip of his cock, cleaning up the remnants of yourself off of him. You take him down all the way to the shaft for shits and giggles, pulling off of him with a low pop.

“Goddamn devil.”

You wink, swiping at the mess you could feel dripping on your face. Mikey helps to clean you up, both fixing each other’s clothes to appear less wrinkled. Seemingly ok with your appearance, you start to head downstairs but Mikey stops you.

He steps behind you, lifting up the necklace he got you. He fastens it, walking to your front to admire it.

You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth for a kiss.

“It’s you and me, Berzatto.”

“You and me.”

Exhaling heavily, you open the door to reenter the Berzatto family chaos, a new found confidence lighting your path.

[lustfulslxt]

Okay could I request a Matt X Chris’s bsf! Reader. Like Chris knows his bestie has it BAD for his brother and he tries to set them up

Divulgence- Matt Sturniolo

warnings : idk, corny dad jokes that i legit died laughing over lmaoo

—

“What did the blanket say as it fell off the bed?” Chris asks, hardly able to hold in his giggles. “Oh sheet!”

Matt and I simultaneously burst into laughter, dramatically falling into one another as we struggle to catch our breaths. Chris starts rolling on the floor, his screams sounding throughout the house as he flails his limbs.

“What do you call a man with a rubber toe?” Matt asks, a goofy grin spread over his lips. “Roberto.”

I can’t help but repeatedly hit the couch as my laughter starts up again, completely amused at their corny jokes. Chris is back up for just a second, grabbing onto Matt’s shoulders before falling back to the ground, his face bright red due to the amount of laughter constricting his breath. After a few more minutes of silly giggles, both boys look at me expectantly.

I pause, thinking for a second, before I start snickering to myself. “What happens when you slap Dwayne Johnson on the butt? You hit rock bottom.”

Once again, the three of us are doubling over, unable to contain the joyous sounds coming from our mouths. Tears streaming down our faces, all of us feeling hot with the excessive laughter.

“Wait! Wait!” Matt shouts, attempting to catch his breath before continuing, “Why should you never fight a dinosaur?”

Me and Chris share a look with smiles on our faces, anticipating the punchline.

“Because you’ll get jurasskicked!” Matt exclaims, his voice booming as he starts howling.

Chris and I lose it, our screams echoing around the living room. My body shakes with giggles pouring out of me, left and right. I fall onto Matt’s lap, my head landing on his thighs, slowly calming down. I haven’t laughed this hard in a while, my breath is still erratic. His hands find their way into my hair, brushing it out of my face and wiping the tears from my cheeks. I make eye contact with Chris, who smirks at me as my face flushes pink.

Matt’s left arms falls over my side, his right hand still running through my hair, sending shivers down my body. Chris watches us, his smirk growing wider before sending me a quick wink, causing my cheeks to burn brighter. I turn my head to look up at Matt and realize he’s already looking at me. After he notices he’s been caught staring at me, he awkwardly looks away, a faint blush fanning his face.

“Hey, Y/N. Follow me real quick, I’ve got something to show you.” Chris calls out, beckoning me to follow him as he walks off in the direction of his room.

I give Matt a smile, patting his leg, standing up from him and following Chris. Upon walking into his room, he shuts the door and turns to me with a devilish grin on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, a small smile on my lips as I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“When are you going to tell him?” He asks.

My smile fades, a frown taking its place. “Why are you so insistent on me telling him?”

“Because you’re completely head over heels for him.” Chris points out

“That’s beside the point.” I mutter, dismissively.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re my best friend, but be so fucking for real.” He stares at me, his face giving off that he’s fed up.

“What?!” I exclaim, falling back on his bed.

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” He crosses his arms.

I shoot back up, immediately glaring at him, “You wouldn’t!”

He gives me a look and makes a move for his door, prompting me to sprint over to him, jumping on his back.

“Christoper Owen, stop it right now!” I shout, attempting and failing to get him to stop.

He ignores me, walking out of his room and up the stairs, me still on his back. He rounds the corner, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the living room that Matt still resides in.

“Seriously, kid. Knock it the fuck off.” I groan, hitting his back, though it was no use as he’s intent on getting me to spill my feelings for his brother.

Hearing my voice, Matt turns his head and widens his eyes at us, not expecting to see me yanking back on Chris, despite my futile attempts to do literally anything. Chris shakes me off his back, effortlessly, then turns to Matt.

“Follow me real quick, I want to show you something.” Chris says to him, just as he did to me five minutes ago.

I roll my eyes, “Chris, I swear to God.”

He holds his hand out to me, silently telling me to shut up, before waving his hand to Matt, ushering him back in the direction of his room. Matt, obviously confused, obliges anyways and heads downstairs with Chris in suit.

I sit back on the couch, anxiety building in my stomach, my nerves shot. I can’t help the slight tremble in my hands and the bouncing of my foot as I think of the worst.

Chris is my best friend, we’ve been friends for four years, and I’ve probably been in love with Matt for half that time. I never planned on telling him, as I was sure my feelings weren’t reciprocated. I cherished Matt and I’s friendship, and I didn’t want to jeopardize the dynamic. Sure, I, so badly, wanted to be with him and it hurt knowing that everything between us would only ever be platonic, but I’d rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

Matt has always been so great to me. He’s so kind and loving, incredibly thoughtful, and we just click. I couldn’t help but fall for him and his pretty face, and I feel like an idiot for it. I can’t wrap my head around why I would let myself fall for him when it’s not necessarily the best of circumstances.

I don’t think Chris would intentionally fuck things up between us, but me not knowing what was being said between the two made me feel sick to my stomach. I‘ve always been an anxious person, but especially at times like this. My nerves are racked, and I can’t help the pit of anxiety and anticipation brewing in my stomach.

Before I can continue to dwell on my thoughts, Matt rounds the corner and makes his way to the couch opposite of me. He doesn’t say a word and doesn’t even spare me a glance. With a frown, I look back to the direction he came from, waiting for Chris to emerge, but he doesn’t. It hits me very clearly, as I now realize that Chris divulged my secret with him.

I can’t help the downward turn of my lips, my frown becoming more prominent. I can practically see the new awkwardness and tension that will be riddled throughout our friendship, making things slowly fall apart. I let out a loud breath, closing my eyes, and sighing as I throw my head back against the back of the couch. It feels like there’s a new weight on my shoulder, and I have no idea how to release it.

Suddenly, the seat next to me dips and I can feel a warm presence beside me. I don’t have to open my eyes to know that it’s Matt, I know his cologne like it’s oxygen. I slowly turn my head towards his direction, then open my eyes, immediately coming face to face with him. He stares at me for a moment, and I can’t read his facial expression, so I get a little nervous.

“Um.” He begins, pausing for a moment, before continuing, “Would you, maybe, want to go out? Like on a date? With me? Like not right now, but sometime? Whenever. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, we can forget this ever happened. Like it’s totally okay, honest. Please say something, so I don’t keep rambling like an idiot.”

I can’t help the soft giggles that left my mouth, amused by his stammering. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His eyes widen and his mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape, “Like a date date?”

My smile grows, “Yes, Matt, a date date.”

“Wow. Nice.” He smiles back, letting out a breath. “I can’t lie, I was a bit worried you’d say no. Actually, a lot worried. Chris had to convince me to even say anything.”

“Is that what that was about?” I question, furrowing my eyebrows as I motion downstairs to Chris’ room.

He nods, “Yeah, he was basically telling me I need to stop being a pussy and just tell you how I feel.”

“Hmm. He led me to believe he was telling you about my feelings for you. I was straight up dying in here, like ready to throw up everything I’ve digested in the last 24 hours.” I admit.

He lets out a chuckle and scoots closer, placing his arm around me on the back of the couch. “So, how about you tell me about your feelings for me.”

A loud laugh escapes my mouth as I push his face away, him laughing in return as I say, “Maybe on this date you speak of.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, pulling me back into him.

He leans his head on my shoulder for a moment before turning it to look at me. When I turn my head in his direction, I notice our faces are only inches apart, causing me to slightly gasp. I can see his eyes flicker from mine to my lips and back, I knew what he wanted.

“Would you be upset if I asked to kiss you?” He whispers, his warm breath fanning my face.

My tongue runs over my lips, subconsciously wetting them as I shake my head from side to side, watching him watch my every move. He slowly inches closer, before his soft pink lips meet mine for the first time. It was a gentle kiss, only lasting a few seconds, before he pulled away to look at me. After taking in my reaction, he comes back in, pressing his mouth to mine. This one, being slower and longer, more passionate. After a minute, I pull back with a smile on my face as I took a deep breath.

“Give me like two minutes, and I’ll be right back.” I state, before taking off towards Chris’ room.

I quickly make my way down the stairs, and swiftly enter his room. Noticing he’s chilling on his bed, I run over to him and engulf him in a big hug. He’s surprised, but returns it nevertheless.

“You good?” He asks in a chuckle.

“Yes. I just wanna say you’re a great best friend and I love you so much. Thanks for keeping my secret, and I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment. And thanks for talking some sense into this kid.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.” He smiles, rubbing my back. “Now go back up there and spend some much deserved time with him. Love you, kid.”

With a giggle, I run back upstairs, leaving Chris to continue playing games on his phone. Once I make it in the kitchen, I stop for a moment and stare at Matt. He’s so pretty, I truly love everything about him. His eyes meet mine, a smile instantly pulling to his face. He nods his head at me, beckoning me to come join him once again. So I do.

“Hi.” I smile brightly at him, laying down on the sofa with my head in his lap, like earlier in the night.

“Hi.” He smiles back at me, running his hand through my hair as his other arm goes around me, pulling me closer into him.

“So, about that date.” I say, bringing my lips into my mouth to keep myself from cheesing embarrassingly hard.

The laugh he lets out ruins my attempt, as I can’t help but stare in awe at him. He’s truly everything, and I can’t be more happy that I get to indulge in that now.

—

a/n : ugh here you go! sorry i feel like this request was forever ago. it is a bit rushed, but only bc i had it all damn near finished and it didn’t save, so i lost basically the whole thing. i’ll do better next time, enjoy. send in reqs! xx

[mggsv]

ONCE A MONTH

gn!reader x neuvillette (18+) | not proof read

summary : When the hydro dragon’s in heat and need to lay his seed..what better option than you?

warnings : breeding kink, mentions of “heat” (THIS IS NOT a/o/b.) slight!sub Neuvillette, oral (m receiving), virgin!neuvillette, loss of virginity

“Are you positive that you want to do this?”

“Yes..of course.” You look down at the contract nervously. You felt your mouth run dry, looking over the words you glanced at three times before, and your signature at the bottom. It wasn’t normal for this thing to happen- not in Fontaine. You guessed it was different with Neuvillette, since he’s the Hydro dragon. It was only right that he had something like that going on with himself. You hand him back the paper before smiling softly. His expression was hard to read but you saw his small grip on the paper as he filed it. “I’ve never done this with anyone else before.” Neuvillette’s cheeks were a small shade of red. “Is that alright as well? It’s not stated on the paper-“

“It’s..alright sir.” you smile. “As long as a get to help.”

“I’ll see you in a week, then.”

“Yes, of course.”

Never in a million years did you expect to sign your freedom away to be the fuck toy of Neuvillette himself once a month. After all, it is an opportunity of a lifetime.

-

“Is it too big to fit?” you stared at Neuvillette’s naked frame. His broad shoulders, neck coated in sweat as his hair flowed down his back, the hydro symbol on his lower stomach.He panted heavily, lips parted as he stared at how much you leaked from your hole..perfect little hole he couldn’t wait to destroy. thoughts clouded his mind, his eyes covered in a slight gray haze as he clenched his hands, obviously holding back from taking you right there.

Your mouth hung open as well, the length that hung between his legs bother heavy and leaking. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t warn you first..” he goes to apologize, shaking hands reaching out towards you. “Perhaps we should have prepped more-“ he rushes out, “No- no Neuvillette it’s okay!” You sit up from the silk sheets and motion him forward. He’s in front of you in an instant. Your hands crept up his thighs, beginning to kiss the girth on his lengthy cock. He moans softly, throwing his head back. You felt your ears warm..here you are, sucking the cock of the chief justice of Fontaine, and being the very first to do so. “You’re..perfect as always.” Your tongue dances around the skin, moaning softly as you felt his nervous hand place up top your head.

“You feel- good. Better than pillows…” The groan that left his lips went straight down to your sex, throbbing for him, waiting for him….it belonged to him now after all. “Ah~ yes..y-yes right there please..” He was a mess. His red face warned you of what was to come- why you were here in the first place. Taking care of Neuvillette’s heat. It was unheard of, but he was different in some way after all, he needed to lay his little dragon seed..who would say no to that? You stroked the rest of his cock your mouth couldn’t reach. Neuvillette was a mess. “oh..oh god-!” He whined, hips instinctively moving to thrust into your mouth. You look up at him, hands in your lap while he fucked your throat to reach his orgasm. “I..I can’t hold it in..I-“ He chokes out a moan, holding your head on his angry cock while coating your mouth.

Every drop tasted like heaven. Neuvi looks down at you, face flushed as he let go of your hair, panicking. “Y/N- Im very sorry I don’t know what took over me.” He wipes off the corner of your mouth. Shaking your head you stand, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re perfectly fine..” your thigh brushes up against his cock, still hard. “And we aren’t done.”

Neuvillette slept comfortably, you could tell. The bed sank slightly along with your body while stood there, mouth agape at the sight of your wet sex open for him. Your head laid on one of his pillows, ass in the air. His hand hesitantly touched your soft skin, his thumb pulling at one of your cheeks to expose your hole just a bit more… “May I?” Neuvi asks. You hum softly in response.

“I..I cannot hold it in anymore.” Neuvillette’s voice grows heavier, feeling his thick cock against your thigh. “I want to fill you with my seed, and although I cannot reproduce with your species, I would’ve loved to see your stomach full and round with it.” He presses up against your hole, groaning as he slowly started to enter you. Inch by inch causing you to moan aloud, hole tightening around him. “Thank you, for taking me.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - The Sibling Dinner

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your overprotective brothers. 0.7k+ words.

“Mashed potatoes... corn... chicken... croissants... gravy,” you mumbled while running around the kitchen of your home. You wiped your forehead and smeared flour on yourself as you checked on the chicken. 

“Hey babe! I’m here!” Tim shouted from your front door, letting himself in with the key he had gotten from you so he could take care of your many houseplants when you were gone for a week. Tim walked into the kitchen with you running around trying to get everything done and wearing a very messy apron.

“Oh! Hi, honey, I didn’t see you come in,” you said while mashing the potatoes.

Tim gave you a soft smile and walked up to you. “Baby, why don’t you go get ready and I’ll finish up.” He took a wet cloth and started to wipe away any stray food that had landed on your face.

“But... tonight has to be perfect!” You said while mashing harder and sloshing milk everywhere. You felt eyes on you and made eye contact with Tim and he gave you the look. 

“Sigh, okay. Thank you.” You kissed him softly on the cheek and quickly left to get ready. You peeked around the corner to watch him. “Pie needs to come out of the oven in 5 minutes and I make homemade gravy so the recipe card is in my cookbook...” You stopped when Tim crossed his arms and stared at you. You looked away, embarrassed, and ran off to your room.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smoothed down the outfit you decided to wear. Three sharp knocks hit the door before Tim announced, “They are here!”

You ran to the door and opened it to see your twin and older brother standing in the doorway. 

“Hey munchkin,” your eldest brother said while giving you a big bear hug.

“You're squishing me!” you tried to say loudly but it came out muffled. Your older brother laughed, let you go, and pushed you to hug your twin. He made eye contact with Tim and stood in front of the both of you. “Who’s this?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, this is Tim... my boyfriend. Tim, meet my older brother Dean and twin brother Sam,” you said nervously.

The staring didn’t stop. Dean stared and Tim stared right back at each other. Dinner was very awkward. No one wanted to say anything for fear of what could happen. You nervously bit your bottom lip and moved your fork around the plate, a little too nervous to eat. 

“So Tim, what do you do?” Sam asked to try to break the tension.

“I’m a Sergeant for the LAPD,” Tim said, breaking his stare to look at Sam.

You heard Dean snicker next to you and you kicked him under the table. “Don’t do this,” you whisper-shouted at him.

Dean gave you a mean look and rubbed his knee. Dean turned his attention to Tim, who sat across from him at the table. 

“So Tim, you're a police officer. What are you going to do when you die on duty and leave our sister here?” Dean asked with an evil look.

“I don’t plan on ever leaving her. Ever,” Tim stated firmly as he stared right back.

“You don’t know that. And I don’t like the idea of my little sister being here heartbroken because you wanted to be Mr. Hero.” Dean sneered.

“Oh, like you left her and Sam when you ran away from home because of your alcoholic father?” Tim sneered right back. 

Dean’s face contorted into anger quickly. “I did that so I could provide a safe, healthy environment for my siblings."

“Um, let’s change topics shall we?” Sam interrupted. “Munchkin, could you pass the croissants?” 

“Fine, tell me, Tim. Have you ever killed anyone? You might be a danger to my little sis,” Dean stated while stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork.

You don’t know what happened after that, but there was lots of shouting. Doors slamming and you, sitting in your seat with tears in your eyes. As Dean left your house in a rage, Sam stayed to support you.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” Tim hugged you and kissed your head softly, repeating it over and over. Dean’s support meant everything to you... you didn’t know what you’d do if Tim and Dean could never get along. 

[kyufessions]

customer service

synopsis: you get into a small argument with your boyfriend over facetime

pairings: idol, boyfriend! jaemin x g.n. reader

genre: angst w/ a happy ending, drabble(?)

word count: 1.1k

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

jaemin smiles to himself as he listens to you telling him about your day at work, the corner of his lips turning downward as you tell him about a rude customer you encountered today.

“you didn’t deserve that baby, i’m sorry.” he responded, propping his phone up against the extra pillow on his hotel bed as he laid against the other.

on the screen you dismissed his apology, chuckling at it, even. “don’t apologize, it’s not your fault people can’t respect customer service workers.” he watches you smile as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, taking note of the colorful marshmallows you used that he specifically filled up in the cupboard before he left home three weeks ago. “how’s tour? are you taking care of yourself? please say yes.”

nodding, he adjusts himself on the bed so his elbow is propping up his head to properly face the phone. as he lays on his side, he hates how you’re on a screen and not directly across from him or better yet: next to him. “tour is good, i just wish you were with me to experience it with me.”

you knew where this conversation was headed. you’ve had this same exact argument many times before that ultimately led nowhere but into space, never to be heard of again until months or weeks later. “jaemin-“

he grips some of his hair in his fist, not tightly but enough to grab onto it to feel a little something. as he sighs, he sits up a little more to come across more serious. “i don’t know why you don’t just quit your job.” he starts talking with his hands as he speaks, the phone moving as he continues to speak. you put down your mug on the coaster and hug a pillow to your chest to brace yourself for the same exact talk you’ve had before. “you don’t exactly love your job, you complain about it a lot. you don’t even make a lot yet you still stay there.” he lets out a deep sigh before continuing on, both of his hands taking a quick break to run through his locks and landing on top of his pillow. “i make enough for the both of us to live comfortably. lavishly even, if we wanted. you wouldn’t have to work, just stay home and do whatever you want. i don’t get-“

“because jaemin, how would that look if i just stayed home all day not contributing to the household at all while you do all the work and bring in all the money?” he stares at you blankly through the screen, waiting for you to continue. “lazy, jaemin. it would make me look lazy. and spoiled. and look like a good-for-nothing partner that doesn’t do anything but clean around the house, cook, look pretty and use their hard earned boyfriend's money. i’m not going to be that person.”

“but that’s not how you’d look!” he protests, rolling his eyes before continuing to speak. “i want you to live comfortably doing whatever you want to do-“

“then let me work, jaemin! i’m tired of having to work a stupid retail job, yes. but i also enjoy this stupid retail job, it’s annoying but it’s the same type of annoying that your job is.” you begin slouching deeper into the couch with a huff, your bottom lip pursing out slightly. “plus my job has good benefits. i don’t mind working. if you want me to cut back on my hours, fine. just say that, use your words; we’re both adults. but stop pestering me to leave my job.”

“i just want to take care of you without worry, that’s all. i don’t want you to have to worry about a roof over your head, about your next meal or clothes or-“

“as much as i appreciate that jaemin, and i really do, trust me, i feel a sense of accomplishment when i have a job. if i did not have a job, i would feel lost and out of control. and spending your money would make me feel bad because it’s your hard earned money, not mine. besides, my compact has great insurance and my coworkers are wonderful to work with- it’s a fun environment. just- please stop asking me about it, okay? i’m sick and tired of the same old discussion.”

jaemin nods, taking everything you say with consideration. you’ve told him every time how much you enjoy your job despite the complaints, but he never believed you- or maybe just refused to believe you. jaemin was a firm believer in doing things that made you happy, and if you weren’t happy then find something that did. so that’s all he was trying to do- but he sees now that he was wrong about that. he didn’t take into consideration the amount of time you’d have to spend alone while he was at practice, out at schedules, or even touring if you didn’t have a job. if all you did was stay home, at first he thought you would love the idea until he realized that that isn’t the type of person you are. you’ve been working since you were a teenager and have loved it ever since. so who was he to think your stop now?

he lays his head on the pillow, his eyes never leaving yours from the phone screen. “i’m sorry, baby. i just want the best for you, and only you know what’s best for you. so i’m sorry my baby.” you start to reassure him how it’s fine until he says it’s not. “you’re a hard worker and i love you for that, okay? i love that so much, and so much more. im sorry. i’ll make it up to you when we get back.”

you just laugh at how soft he’s become, picking back up your mug and holding it in your hands for warmth as it gets colder during the ungodly hour. “thank you for apologizing jaem, i appreciate it.” you pause for a brief moment, smiling at him. you admire the look on his face. the way his eyes are looking at you through the screen, the corner of his lips, and the way his skin is glowing so effortlessly. and all he’s doing is just laying there, freshly woken up and ready to take on the day in another random city. “i love you.”

the words bring butterflies to his stomach, the joy hard to hide as he refuses to disguise itself behind a tired facade. “i love you more, my royalty.”

“you’re a liar.” ensues an argument that goes on for another fifteen minutes before jaemin has to leave for schedules. but not before allowing you to win the ‘i love you’ game you two always play.

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

“Are you sure this isn’t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully. 

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need. 

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature. 

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said. 

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink. 

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you. 

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees. 

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort. 

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them. 

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time. 

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot. 

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs. 

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore. 

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them. 

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night. 

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor. 

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt. 

He was in a word: devastating. 

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked. 

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle. 

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped. 

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was. 

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his. 

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you? 

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go. 

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you. 

“My friends,” you finally said. 

“But no guy?” He asked. 

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said. 

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop. 

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked. 

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it. 

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere. 

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt. 

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.” 

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat! 

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose. 

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them. 

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends. 

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify. 

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right? 

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said. 

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. “I’m not oblivious!” 

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you. 

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach. 

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said. 

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels. 

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides. 

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole. 

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor. 

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around. 

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer. 

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment. 

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure. 

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle. 

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music. 

“What took you so long?” You asked. 

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!” 

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile. 

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said. 

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said. 

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly. 

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone. 

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said. 

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did. 

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?” 

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts. 

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps. 

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs. 

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him. 

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible. 

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow. 

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes. 

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone. 

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?” 

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said. 

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him. 

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?” 

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside. 

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening. 

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights. 

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him. 

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand. 

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him. 

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out. 

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end. 

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside. 

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room. 

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you. 

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words. 

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth. 

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned. 

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him. 

“Don’t control yourself,” you said. 

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider. 

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. 

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him. 

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you. 

“N-No,” you moaned. 

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces. 

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?” 

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips. 

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?” 

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close. 

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves. 

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked. 

“N-No,” you whined. 

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat. 

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching. 

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said. 

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface. 

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined. 

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?” 

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak? 

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts. 

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded. 

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin. 

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned. 

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin. 

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said. 

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs. 

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?! 

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air. 

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him. 

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick. 

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down. 

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said. 

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said. 

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean. 

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off. 

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him. 

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can’t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said. 

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees. 

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass. 

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out. 

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast? 

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked. 

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder. 

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick. 

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling. 

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said. 

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors. 

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin. 

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession. 

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned. 

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries. 

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned. 

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset. 

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once. 

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy. 

“Fuck,” he said. 

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to? 

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed? 

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat. 

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe. 

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled. 

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him. 

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?” 

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear. 

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light. 

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes. 

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank? 

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees. 

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked. 

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said. 

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said. 

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.” 

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned. 

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.” 

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face. 

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever. 

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart. 

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna. 

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight. 

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here. 

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together. 

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down. 

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy. 

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete. 

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted. 

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name. 

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy. 

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to. 

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.” 

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm. 

“I know. I know.” 

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.” 

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him? 

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent. 

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all. 

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said. 

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said. 

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms. 

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong? 

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms. 

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

✧ in which the attempt to get distracted from your feelings might not end exactly as you planned

jungwon x fem!reader (feat. sunghoon)

genre: mostly angst, some fluff

warnings: skinship, (a tiny little bit suggestive if you squint your eyes), mentions: physical violence, blood, alcohol, cheating, breaking up, toxic relationship, crying, and panic

word count: ~6.8k

a/n: phew, this took me like forever to write but the idea had been in my head for so long. i hope y'all enjoy this read ! ≧◡≦ (i highly recommend to read the teaser to this before for better understanding; it's linked in the pink text -> if you click on 'previously')

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

previously:

"you're still not seeing anyone?", his eyes locked with yours again, "i'm sure there are some guys in college who are all over you. maybe you should try your luck?"

he gave you a knowing look, as if he subtly wanted to tell you: get yourself out there and distract yourself from him.

over the weekend, you replayed jay's words in your head over and over again. he wasn't wrong; it wasn't too bad of an idea after all. you wouldn't try to force anything, but you decided to allow things to happen if they decided to roll around. you couldn't keep on sulking over your one-sided feelings, especially not when jungwon was your friend and almost in a relationship. you should be happy for him after all, you thought.

as if on cue, you bumped right into said potentional distraction the following week.

you were rushing down the stairs of the lecture building, eager to catch the subway three minutes later, as you tripped over your untied shoelace and right into someone walking up the stairs.

the force you hit him with made said someone stumble back a step.

before you could realize what happened, you felt a strong grip on each of your arms steadying you, eventually preventing you from falling down the stairs and taking him along with you.

"woah, careful there", you heard his semi-familiar voice as you looked up to meet his widened, chocolate-brown eyes.

"wait... y/n, right?" you nodded slowly, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. you remembered his face and his voice, but you couldn't figure out from where.

apparently, you couldn't seem to hide the confusion; the corners of his lips shot up into a smile the same time that a chuckle left his mouth. "sunghoon. we had a group project last semester." right. that's why he looked familiar.

still shocked from the moment, all you could utter was a little "i'm sorry" along with an apologetic smile. "for forgetting and for running you over", you added. only then, you realized his hands were still holding onto your arms. you cleared your throat. "and thanks for um... catching me, i guess?"

he gave you a short smile and loosened the grip around your arms until he let go of them fully. "i mean... i was kinda saving myself", he said, reminding you of how the scenario would have ended hadn't he reacted so fast - namely, with both of you at the bottom of the staircase, probably with at least one broken bone and definitely not with the grin he gave you now. the thought made your stomach twist.

"hey, it's fine", he tried to somewhat comfort you, noticing how all color had left your face. "although, i do think you owe me... for saving your life practically, you know"

he was exaggerating. you knew he was. but it still twisted your stomach a second time, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. relax, maybe he just wants some notes from a lecture he didn't attend. or he has an essay due tomorrow that he didn't want to write. or-

"come to my match tomorrow. if i win, you'll go on a date with me"

what.

your intuition told you to decline. however, the look in his eyes proved that he insisted, and you really did owe him.

maybe you should try your luck, jay's words echoed in the back of your head. right. maybe i should.

without wasting another second, you nodded your head, which caused a smile to spread across sunghoon's lips.

"i still have your number saved. i'll text you the details", he replied as he walked past you and up the stairs a few steps, before he turned around to look at you again. "you might want to tie your shoelace unless you planned to run someone else over"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the same evening, as promised, you received a text message from sunghoon with the place and the time for the following day.

yet again, your stomach flipped for the split of a second, the thought if you were out of your mind for agreeing on the deal with a stranger clouding your mind. but then again, he wasn't a complete stranger and it was only a college ice hockey match. it would be nice getting your mind off your feelings and any recent events jungwon never hesitated to tell you about.

and that's how you found yourself on your way to the college's ice hockey rink less than 24 hours later. as you walked closer, you noticed sunghoon standing in front of the entrance, carrying a big bag in one hand and holding his phone in the other. you picked up your pace for the last few meters.

"sorry, i lost track of the time while getting ready", you greeted him. he looked you up and down for a second before smiling softly. "don't worry, it was worth the wait."

you felt yourself smiling slightly at the compliment, your cheeks covered in a light pink shade.

sunghoon guided you inside and to a seat in the first row, waiting for you to sit down before he spoke. "i have to change and warm up now. do you need anything before i go?" you shook your head.

"i'm wearing number 7 so watch out for me. and remember, if my team wins", he said, confidence radiating from his voice, "you owe me a date". he gave you the hint of a grin before disappearing to what you assumed was the locker room.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as time passed, you found yourself feeling more and more invested in the match. although you had no knowledge about any rules, and the players' movements were too fast for you to follow, you quickly adjusted to the speed of the match and started to put the puzzle of possible rules together. as soon as it started to make sense to you, your interest grew bigger.

you hadn't noticed how you had unintentionally followed a certain player's every move until you cheered for a goal he scored, his head turning to look at you and his eyes lighting up as they met your cheerful ones. you swore you could see him giving you a quick wink, before turning on his skates to continue the match.

even as the match was over and the crowd of people around you started leaving, you were still trying to figure out if the fast rhythm of your heartbeat was due to the adrenaline in your body that the game had caused or due to your tiny interaction with said certain player. back number 7. said certain player, who you now owed a date.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after your date with sunghoon, you found yourself accompanying him to every single one of his weekly matches, not even cancelling when you really had to finish an assignment that was due the end of that day - and that you hadn't even started. besides the matches, that had by now become like a weekly ritual for you, the two of you spent more and more time together, getting to know each other better and growing closer.

he would wait for you after your classes so he could walk you home - something you would usually refuse to do. but walking meant you didn't have to take the subway that was, more often that not, packed to a point that the doors barely closed. and walking with sunghoon meant spending some extra time with him, listening to how his day went and telling him about yours, and sometimes, just sometimes, it also meant having him holding your small hand in his bigger one, your fingers softly intertwined.

you would come over to his place after his practice, to order dinner and watch movies until one of you fell asleep cuddled up against the other.

the two of you would go out on dates, although neither of you officially addressed them as such, and you would slowly begin to feel more and more comfortable around each other.

what had started as a deal - all because you almost knocked him over on the college stairs a few months ago - and as sort of a distraction from your one-sided feelings for your best friend, had by now become a part of your life. a part that made your stomach all fuzzy and your heart warm up each second you spent together.

the plan to distract yourself, however, seemed to work - if jay's judgement was anything to go by, at least. a few weeks ago, you had finally briefed him on the entire situation with sunghoon. part of you felt bad for not letting him know earlier, mostly because he had given you the idea of 'trying your luck', but you had wanted to wait until things were more settled.

jungwon, on the other hand, didn't know yet. remembering how you'd felt whenever he was telling you about the girl he'd liked when you still had feelings for him, you decided to keep everything concerning sunhoon a secret from him. at least for now that the relationship with his girlfriend was in a slump that it couldn't seem to get out of. given your feelings a few months ago, you would have probably been happy to hear the news - although you hated yourself for that - but now that your heart didn't stung anymore at the thought of your friend with another girl, you felt bad for him.

if jay had told him already, which he pinky-promised he wouldn't do, jungwon was very good at hiding. or his mind was elsewhere. just like now, during your weekly bar-catch-up-meeting, when he didn't really seem to listen to jay's updates. you didn't have to ask him; you knew what lay heavily on his heart - and it made you feel even worse about your decision to introduce sunghoon to them that night. but recent events had sort of pushed you to finally do so;

a few days ago, the two of you were sitting in a café for one of your (unofficial) dates, when sunghoon suddenly handed you a bag. hesitantly, you took it from his hands and lurked inside. after shooting him another glance, and earning an approving nod from him, you shoved your hand inside the bag, grabbed the piece of fabric and slowly pulled it out. although you immediately recognized the familiar colors of the jersey, you unfolded it slowly, the '7' on its back confirming your suspicion.

"it's my jersey... my spare one, don't worry, it's clean", he added hastily. "it's to...", he reached up to scratched the back of his head, a tiny hint of nervousness spreading across his face, "to have a reminder of why we started dating in the first place, sort of. you can wear it to my matches from now on", he declared sheepishly.

the smile on your face grew wider with every word he said. "that's cute... thank you, hoon", you leaned in to quickly peck his cheek, only resulting in your own cheeks heating up even more. "i'll always wear it from now on"

you couldn't help but notice the warm, bubbly feeling the gesture caused in your stomach. it was a small one, yet it felt somewhat so big, so official.

you bit down on your lower lip at the thought. you had been meeting regularly, and when you didn't fall asleep at each other's place, you had been calling every night, even if it was just to say good night. sunghoon would keep his hand on the small of your back when you were walking and sometimes you even held hands in public. now that you thought about it, it did feel official. but it wasn't. neither of you had ever addressed the title-topic, until -

"will you finally be my girlfriend?"

now that you were official, you didn't want to hide it from your friends anymore, although jay technically knew. he just didn't know about the boyfriend girlfriend kind of thing.

you knew now wasn't the right timing, but a quick glance at your phone and the incoming message from sunghoon that he'd just arrived, told you that it was too late to change your mind.

just a few moments later, you saw sunghoon appearing near the entrance, his gaze scanning the bar until his eyes finally met yours and softened slightly at the sight. he gave you the hint of a smile and waited for a sign from you that he could walk over to the table you shared with your two friends. they were sitting with their backs to the entrance, so they hadn't seen him yet when jay finished with his weekly update just a minute later.

for the first time in a while, you rose to speak without jay needing to ask you to do so.

"i have kind of an update this week", you said sheepishly, looking over their shoulders to give sunghoon a tiny nod. he took the hint and made his way to your table. "actually, i want to introduce you to someone"

just in time, sunghoon walked past the table and stopped next to you, giving you a short smile and mouthing a 'hi' before looking at your friends.

"jay, jungwon", you pointed at them as you named them, "this is sunghoon", you introduced the three guys to each other, hesitating to continue. the last boyfriend you'd introduced to your friends had turned out to be a complete disappointment, and ever since, you hadn't been in a relationship again. now, it felt almost weird to open up to your friends about this topic.

sunghoon sensed your slight nervousness and softly placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a short, careful squeeze - as if to give you a sign that it was okay to continue.

"he's my boyfriend", you finally said, a nervous smile spread across your lips.

jay bit his lower lip to surpress a grin, but he gave you a look that said i knew it, before quickly standing up and reaching out his hand to greet sunghoon.

jungwon, on the other hand, hesitated before he mimicked jay's action.

he's my boyfriend. your words echoed in his mind, even long after sunghoon had sat down next to you.

my boyfriend. his brain replayed the scene over and over again like a broken record.

while his elder friend interviewed the couple about how they had met and so on and so forth - although, in secret, he already knew the story - jungwon paid no attention to any word spoken at the table. his focus moved from the hand sunghoon had casually placed on your thigh, to your smaller hand on top of his, and back to his hand and his thumb that slowly and softly caressed the skin on your thigh that your skirt exposed. then, to the smile that spread across your lips as you were talking about whatever, the short moments of eye contact you'd share with your boyfriend, the way his lips curled up when he talked about the relationship, and finally the short peck he placed on your cheek that painted your cheeks a light pink.

jungwon's chest felt tight. uncomfortably tight. tightness, paired with a stinging pain on the left side of his chest that spread like a wildfire to his stomach. with just a hint of hope, he picked up his phone from the table to check for a notification - only to feel even the last bit of optimism shatter to pieces, as he saw the empty screen. no message. no call. no nothing. of course.

only a few weeks ago, he used to experience all these tiny moments that you and sunghoon now shared, too. only a few weeks ago, he'd looked as happy as you did now. had felt as much in love as you did now, maybe even more. only to find all of that slowly fading away more and more with each day that passed, like an old photograph that had been too exposed to sunlight.

now that he saw it happening in front of him, he swore he could hear his heart ripping a little in his chest.

he didn't know if he should blame it on the alcohol in his blood or on the current situation with his own girlfriend when a spark of anger mixed with the sadness he felt. you were aware of his situation, yet you decided to introduce your boyfriend to them that night?

then again, he had no right to keep you from having a good time just because he wasn't. and if the look on your face and the way you slightly leaned against sunghoon were anything to go by, you did have a good time. but who guaranteed that, after all? the last time he'd been introduced to a boyfriend of yours, the relationship had turned out to be the prime example of a disaster.

paying close attention to sunghoon's every move, jungwon's grip tightened around his glass when his gaze went down to his hand on your leg again and he swore he saw it moving up your bare skin just by an inch.

jay, who'd learned to read his best friend's body language in next to no time over the several years of friendship, stepped on jungwon's foot under the table and shot him a confused look that caused the younger to empty whatever liquor was left in his glass and swallowing part of his anger along with it.

a few hours later (or more like what felt like an eternity to jungwon), your night out ended with bidding goodbye's to each other, a friendly 'it was nice meeting you' from jay and a more drunk than sober 'you better not hurt her' from jungwon.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

while jay contacted you a few times after your night out, asking the usual how are you's and the not-yet-usual how are things with sunghoon, you'd heard nothing from jungwon. you'd tried to reach out to him, but he had kept your communication to a minimum, his replies coming late, short and dry - if even.

that was until you found him in front of your door the next thursday night, after he had successfully woken you up by ringing the doorbell almost non-stop. when you opened the door and saw him standing in front of your apartment, you were ready to throw all kinds of complaints right at his face. because where did he get the audacity from to randomly pay you a visit past your bed time, when he knew for a fact how much you cherished your sleep and especially when he'd barely talked to you over the past week.

however, it took only a second look at his face for you to quickly close your mouth and swallow your complaints. you'd seen him feeling down before, but you'd never seen him like this. dark circles marred his usually bright eyes - eyes that were now red, either from anger or from tears. his skin was pale and his lips looked like they hadn't formed a smile in days. you couldn't quite make out his expression, swinging somewhere between the lines of sadness and sheer emptiness.

suddenly, it didn't matter that he interrupted your sacred sleeping time. worry rushed over you as you wordlessly stepped aside, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip sucked between your teeth, to make space for your friend to enter.

after jungwon had hesitantly stepped inside your apartment, you carefully grabbed his wrist, leading him to the living room and putting both your hands on his shoulders, pushing down softly until he sat on the sofa. your soft touch left tiny sparks on his skin that lingered there even after you left the living room again.

as you came back moments later with a mug of tea in both hands, you found jungwon still sitting in the same position. his gaze stuck to his knees, almost as if he didn't dare to look at you.

you exhaled a small sigh, before handing him one of the cups, placing the other on the small coffee table. you grabbed a blanket from the other side of the sofa and carefully put it around his shoulders in hopes it would somehow comfort him.

after you sat down next to him, it took him only the blink of an eye to blurt out all the thoughts that clouded his mind at once.

"i'm sorry for bothering you at this time, i know you were probably sleeping and i really tried to reach jay, but he didn't answer his calls and he wasn't home and-... and i know i didn't even talk to you properly the past days but-"

"jungwon.", you interrupted him, softly placing your hand on his upper arm. "what happened?"

he was right. you were sleeping and he hadn't talked to you properly the past days, but that didn't matter anymore. your chest felt tight at the sight of your friend in such a state.

you could hear jungwon release a long sigh before he said the words you'd already expected to hear: "we broke up."

you listened attentively as he gave you a summary of the previous happenings. it sounded like the prime example of a nasty break up; hour long arguments with a lot of screaming and crying included. trying to make up, only to fuck it all over the next second. you could feel your heart aching for him, only imagining how overwhelmed he must have felt, especially after being so in love.

"oh, jungwon...", you sighed once he was done, taking his hand that had started shaking in his lap at the memory of everything he told you in yours and giving it a careful squeeze.

his shaking hand came to a halt at your soft touch and for a reason unknown to himself, jungwon wished that you'd never let go.

"i'm so sorry", you broke the silence again and slowly let go of his hand, leaving it cold without your touch.

you knew he would talk to you or jay whenever he felt the need to and you certainly didn't want to push him to speak, nor dig too deep with further questions.

"comfort movie and ice cream?"

jungwon's lips curled into the hint of a smile just for the blink of an eye before it disappeared again and he nodded.

"comfort movie and ice cream"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

even a week later, jungwon caught himself thinking back to the night he rang your doorbell in despair and how you'd comforted him so effortlessly. he swore if he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel your warm touch around his wrist, on his shoulders, on his arm, and on his hand. sometimes, he even caught himself wondering what it would feel like to hold your hand for longer, or how much comfort it would give him to hold your body close to his if only the tiny amount of skinship had felt like this. like the first ray of sunshine after a storm. like home.

although he knew he had no business to neither think nor feel like that, his mind tricked him into the same train of thoughts over and over again. and whenever it happened, he'd feel guilty. he'd hate himself for letting his thoughts wander back to you so frequently, knowing it was straight up egoistic. you had comforted him that night. you had given him the tiny bit of affection that he'd been so deprived of ever since his relationship went downhill - even if it had just been platonically. he blamed the fact that you were running laps around his mind on the situation he'd been in, but that only made it worse. knowing he was only longing to relive these tiny moments with you for the sake of feeling at ease - of forgetting about his break up. or so he thought.

over the next few weeks, he was proven wrong. he couldn't say he was over his ex girlfriend yet, but she for sure started to matter less and less to him. at the same time, thoughts of you clouded his mind more often than he'd liked to admit.

at first, he'd tried to shrug it off. but as time passed, he couldn't deny the small pang in his chest whenever sunghoon picked you up from your night outs, whenever he saw your phone light up from a notification, the picture of you and sunghoon that you had put as your lockscreen greeting him, or each time you posted your boyfriend on social media - being all lovey-dovey, of course.

if he thought all of these feelings were just caused by the sudden lack of love in his life at first, by now he was sure that they were the outcome of the lack of your love.

you, on the other hand, blamed any glares at your boyfriend, any of jungwon's sighs at the sight of you two together, and any other more or less weird behaviour from jungwon on the fact that he was still not over his break up and simply felt a bit uneasy at seeing love happening right in front of him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weekend rolled around, you were hoping that saturday afternoon would not only lighten up jungwon's mood overall, but also ease the uncomfortable tension between the two of you.

it was jay's birthday and as per his wish, you met up with him and some of his other friends from college to play bowling all together. you had been hesitant about letting sunghoon tag along, given the circumstances with jungwon and you not wanting to be the reason for a ruined birthday, but jay, who had also grown closer to sunghoon over time, convinced you otherwise.

although you were enormously behind in points, the game was fun and everyone seemed to have a good time. small waves of relief washed over you each time you saw jungwon scoring a strike, followed by a cheerful jubilation. finally.

it was your last turn before the game was over. even though your chances of winning were zero, you still tried your best to at least hit a few pins - just so the results wouldn't be as embarrassing. and against your own expectations, you indeed scored a solid seven.

when you turned around, jungwon tried his best to surpress a proud smile at your result. there was no need. it would have gone unnoticed by you anyways, your eyes falling right on sunghoon, his wide smile and his opened arms that embraced you in a short hug after you approached him.

"see, i told you; you just need some practice and you'll do well", he mumbled in your hair, leaving a soft peck on top of them, before he let go of the hug, cupped your face in his hands and captured your lips in a short but loving kiss.

"i guess seven is my lucky number", you replied jokingly flirtous.

sunghoon opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted by an annoyed groan coming from the other side of the table.

"you guys are gross"

the glare you gave jungwon for his words made his insides twist and he decided to keep whatever else words he wanted to throw at you - out of pure jealousy, admittedly - to himself.

in fact, you didn't hear any other word from him that day, until you used a moment in which sunghoon and jay were busy discussing whether baseball or ice hockey was better, to follow jungwon as he excused himself to the restroom. you were dedicated to confront him about the prior situation.

"what the fuck was that for, jungwon?"

he raised his eyebrows cluelessly.

"you know what i mean. it was unnecessary. and not exactly respectful." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at him expectantly.

"it hurts seeing you with him."

fuck. his own eyes widened as the words of confession left his mouth. out of all the lies he could have come up with, did he really have to say the truth?

you sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "listen, jungwon. i'm sorry about your break up and your loss, but just because you ended your realtionship doesn't mean that i have to-"

"am i not being obvious enough?", he interrupted, causing you to look at him in disbelief.

"what? i don't think i'm rubbing your nose in-"

"oh, cut the cap, y/n", he interrupted again, a slight hint of annoyance shadowing over his words this time. he blamed it for the sudden confidence it gave him as the next words just rolled off his tongue without any warning.

"you really don't understand i'm in love with you?"

the words hit you like a punch in the gut, its pain spreading all over your stomach as you took a step back.

this world cannot be so sick and twisted, you thought as the uneasy feeling made its way to your chest like a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe.

you swallowed hard, as if that would subside the feeling.

"i don't think this is the place and time to have this conversation now", you tried your best to stay calm, although all you wanted was to run off and escape the situation.

"why?" jungwon asked, and with each step he took towards you, you took a step back. "cause your boyfriend is just a few steps away?"

your heart was hammering against your chest.

"and what if he hurts you?", he continued.

memories of your previous relationship, memories which you had worked so hard to shove all the way to the very back of our mind, hit you like a wave. what if he hurts you?

you shook your head in an attempt to shake them off, trying to keep your cool with the attempt of a deep breath. you wouldn't panic. not here, not now.

"what would you know about his intentions?"

"nothing. but i don't trust him and i know about mine. you can still choose me over him and we'll-"

"stop", you said sternly. your head hurt and everything was spinning. "stop making everything about you." words left your mouth before your head was done forming them into sentences. "i had liked you for so long before and you never cared how i felt when you talked about her non-stop."

jungwon's eyes widened as your confession rang in his ears. "i...", he swallowed hard, "i care about how you're feeling"

"i'm feeling happy now. you care? then don't ruin this for me"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

weeks later, the stress the situation had left you in, had calmed down. you were laying on the side you claimed as yours on sunghoon's bed, scrolling through tiktok and effectively procrastinating on your studies. after sunghoon had left to meet with his study group, you were alone in his apartment. he'd offered you to tag along, but after you'd declined, you just decided to stay in his place so you could spend the evening together once he came back.

after a few more minutes of scrolling, you finally put your phone down and started studying. just when you felt too exhausted to continue, you heard keys turning in the lock of the front door. what a timing.

you quickly closed your laptop, stood up and made your way to the front door to greet sunghoon, only for him to quickly rush past you, not even granting you a look, but instead keeping his face down.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and turned around to follow him.

"babe?"

you tried to understand what it was that caused him to act like that all of a sudden. everything was fine when he left. your mind started racing about all the things you could have possibly done wrong when he shut the door to the bathroom right in front of your face.

he didn't lock, but you didn't want to enter like an intrudor, so you took a deep breath before carefully knocking on the wooden door.

"sunghoon?"

when you heard nothing but the sound of water running, you decided to open the door slowly, little by little, until you could see him leaning over the sink and washing his face.

when you caught sight of the sink, painted in red, an alarm went off in your head. you quickly rushed over to him and stopped his attempt to splash more water on his face by grabbing both his wrists, tight but careful enough to not hurt him.

when he finally faced you, your heart dropped. his lip was slightly bruised and blood ran down his nose. you gave him a worried look to which he averted his gaze.

a few moments later, he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with you kneeling in front of him, cleaning up the blood on his face and treating his wounds. although you were careful, you could hear him hiss in pain from time to time.

"are you going to tell me what happened?", you broke the silence while tapping a tissue on his lip.

no answer.

you took his hands in yours, scanning his knuckles for any injuries.

"you didn't fight back", you established.

still no answer.

you stood up with a sigh, ready to leave the bathroom, when only one word from sunghoon made you freeze right at the spot.

"jungwon."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you didn't find jungwon at his place, you drove to the café he recently started working at, in hopes of finding him there. you knew he was busy working, if he was there, but you couldn't care less.

sunghoon had tried to talk you out of it, practically begging you to just let it be and to stay home with him, and the memories of the last time you tried to tackle a problem with jungwon weren't exactly encouraging you to do so again, either. everything told you to not confront jungwon about the whole situation, but anger got the best of you when you, nevertheless, decided to do so.

when you arrived to the café, you caught a glimpse of the counter, half relieved to see jungwon behind it, half not. not wanting to cause a scene, you waited in the queue until it was your turn.

"hi, what can i get-"

jungwon's words got stuck in his throat when he realized who was standing in front of him.

he believed in coincidences, but this would be too much of an coincidence, even for him. he knew you knew.

"let me guess, your lovely boyfriend told you already?", he cocked an eyebrow.

"care to explain?", you asked back, mimicking his attitude.

instead of replying, he left his spot, grabbed a glass and started to add ingredients you couldn't quite make out from the speed he was working at. once he was done, he placed it on the counter in front of you.

"i'm off in half an hour", he slid the glass across the wood, closer to you, "if you wait, i'll tell you after. the coffee's on the house."

and without another word, he turned to the next customer, ready to take their order.

you sighed, but grabbed the drink and sat down in an empty chair, swirling the straw. you hadn't exactly planned for the day to end with you sitting there, waiting for jungwon to finish his shift, and sipping on a coffee that tasted surprisingly good - but here you were.

a few minutes later, jungwon, who was now changed out of his working clothes, approached your table.

"i told you to stay out of it", you said, before he even had the chance to say anything. "what makes you think getting involved and punching him was okay?"

how and where did you two even meet? why did you start this, and why didn't sunghoon fight back? tons of questions rose up all at once, making it hard to not lose your focus.

instead of replying, he silently reached out his hand, to which you just gave him a confused look.

"you won't believe me, anyways. so i'll show you."

not sure how to feel about what he had to show you, you hesitated before standing up, but refusing to take his hand. you followed him through a door that prohibited access to customers with a sign that read 'staff only'.

without a word, he sat down in front of a big computer screen, repeatedly clicking on different things with the mouse and tapping on the keyboard here and there. his narrowed eyes indicated he was searching something.

an uneasy feeling crept up on you, spread from your stomach, to your chest, and finally the rest of your body. you had no clue what jungwon was about to show you, but what you were sure of was that it couldn't be good.

"got it", he finally said, after what felt like an eternity. part of you was curious to see what he'd show you, while another, bigger part was eager to run away and pretend the day had never happened.

hesitantly, you took a few steps into his direction, until you could see the screen. at the second glimpse, you understood that what you saw in front of you on the screen was the café you'd been sitting in less than five minutes ago. he was showing you the café's cctv file.

"that was right before my shift", jungwon said, before he clicked play and leaned back for you to see the screen better. although, when you saw and realized, you wished your vision was blocked.

what you saw was no one other than your boyfriend sharing a table with an unfamiliar girl, both of them sitting a little too close to each other for your liking. you weren't a jealous person per se, but you also had boundaries. and your boyfriend's arm around the shoulders of a random girl you didn't know came very close to crossing them.

you tried to tell yourself that they were waiting for the other members of their study group, but no one else arrived, and nothing on the table looked like studying.

your stomach sank further and further, pearls of cold sweat pooled in the palms of your hands and your knees started to feel weak the closer the two got to each other. by now, you were anticipating what you saw next, but you still clung desperately to the tiny bit of hope that you had left; that told you you were exaggerating and it would be fine.

but even that tiny spark of hope died when you saw exactly what you'd expected to see. your boyfriend leaned in for a kiss.

your breath got caught in your throat and by now you knees felt like they'd give in and let you hit the ground.

the last thing you saw on the screen was jungwon pulling sunghoon away and placing a delicate punch right in his face without hesitation - then the screen went black.

it wasn't until you saw your reflection in the screen that you realized jungwon had stood up and placed his hand on the small of your back, as if to steady you.

silent tears rolled down your cheeks until they fully blurred your vision. what if he hurts you, jungwon's words from several weeks prior replayed in your head.

before your mind could wander off to questions such as how long it had been going on or what you did wrong to get cheated on, you were pulled into a tight hug.

jungwon held you through your sobs, let you soak his shirt in tears and carefully stroked your back in an attempt to calm you down.

although his heart was aching, ripping a little every time you let out another bitter sob, he held you tight to his chest as if keeping you close to him could protect you from all the bad in the world. oh, how he wished it could.

after you'd calmed down, he slowly let go of you, taking his hands off your back and on your cheeks instead, cupping your face and slowly wiping away your tears.

"now if after this you still don't choose me over him, i don't know either", he tried hard to make it sound like a joke, "also, my skills in making coffee are immaculate, so..."

the last part elicited a small chuckle on your behalf that quickly died again.

"i need time, won"

he nodded and gave you a soft smile, your face still cupped by his hands.

"as much time as you need", he said softly, "whenever you feel ready, i'll be here waiting for you, okay? as long as it takes you"

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[ohthewh0rror]

TOXIC.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — The father, the son, and the holy toxicity. How bad can they really get?

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader / Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 830

Dialogue Prompt: Toxic Love

— Mattheo R.

“You…you hurt Gyles, didn’t you?” There was a tremble in your voice as you asked Mattheo. You didn’t want to believe it, the voice in the back of your head begged and pleaded for it to not be true. You wanted Mattheo to prove you wrong, laugh at your absurd accusation, and reassure you they’d find who truly did it. But, instead of disbelief or anger, Mattheo looked at you with eyes you could only describe as empty. No emotion hid in the brown of his eyes as he held eye contact with you, putting his cigarette out.

“I only did what you wanted,” Mattheo told you, slowly rising from his seat. You felt an empty pit form at the bottom of your stomach, your heart plummeting, as a chill went up your spine at his admission. You wracked your brain in hopes of an answer, not understanding what he was getting at. Your eyes searched his as he came to stand in front of you. His hands found your biceps as he pulled you towards him. He held your body against his chest as his head came down to your, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Your wish is my command,” he whispered.

Finally, it hit you what he was referring to. The conversation from three nights ago when you told him how you wish Gyles would go away and leave you alone, as you were tired of his constant flirting towards you. Mattheo had made a comment of taking care of him for you, and you just laughed him off. Treated it as some joke.

You felt sick at the admission, and felt in some twisted way this was your fault. If you had just complained to one of your girl friends instead, Gyles wouldn’t have been beaten so savagely. Mattheo pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

— Tom R.

“Stay away from me!” Your right hand scrambled beside you for something to grab as some form of defense, having been disarmed of your wand by Tom as soon as he entered the room. You weren’t sure how he found you, and you don’t think you wanted to know. You did everything right in order to not be found; you did every spell, ignored every prying question, even changed your name, and it still wasn’t enough. You steadily backed away from him, but he paid no mind, for every step you took it seems he took two more.

It hurts that it came to this because you loved Tom, you truly did, but you knew you’d never be able to be happy by his side. His plans were insane, and utterly disgusting, you couldn’t knowingly stand by his beliefs and actions. That’s why you left, you had to get away before you were in too deep. The only problem was you knew, to some degree, you were already in too deep. Tom had already sunk his fingers into you and he would never willingly let you go. You’d known since the anniversary of your first year together that Tom would rather kill you than let you live a life without him.

“That’s the one thing I can never do,” his voice sent a cold chill through every nerve in your body. Your hands began to shake as you knew Tom would drag you back to England kicking and screaming if he had to, it made no difference if you came back willingly or not, as long as you were there.

Finally your hand came into contact and grasped the small, glass bowl just behind you, and without giving it a second thought you threw it. You saw Tom immediately deflect the bowl with a spell, and though it didn’t come close to hitting him, it distracted him for the few seconds you needed to sprint past him. You rounded the corner to the living room, the front door was in sight, and a feeling of hope blossomed on your chest.

You were five feet from the door when a spell hit you in the center of your back, knocking you face first onto the floor. You were unsure what the spell was, not having heard him even cast it, but it knocked the wind out of you. You attempted to get on your hands and knees to crawl towards the door, but stars began to fill your vision and your arms shook as you fought to not pass out. Toms shoes finally came into view as he kicked your left hand right out from underneath you, causing you to crumple to the floor.

Your vision began to finally fade as you heard Tom speaking to you once again, “You’re nothing without me and I intend to make you realize that.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Invisible Smoke - Five

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And everything comes to an end. Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 26.5k (from the bottom of my heart…my bad) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is the final chapter! Thank you for all the love on this little story of mine, I truly appreciate it. Warnings: Naval and medical inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, hospitals, blood, unprotected sex, female-receiving oral, my love of happy endings, pregnancy and children, and overuse of italics.

Jake hated hospitals.

He hated the scent of bleach and the crinkle of the overwashed sheets on the tiny beds. He hated how everything was said in gentle murmurs while machines beeped and hummed in every nook and corner. But he would sit in this stupid, uncomfortable plastic chair for a week straight if it meant that he would be told how you were doing.

Everything since your house had been a blur of blood and flashing lights. He nearly fought the paramedic that shoved him out of the way to get to you, adrenaline keeping him focused on you. There had been blood everywhere. He still had some dried beneath his fingernails. The cops that had shown up had, for a moment, believed Jake had been the one to hurt you until your neighbor had yelled about a man running through his yard, covered in blood.

But they lost him.

The cops lost Luke somewhere in the next neighborhood over and you were taken away in the back of an ambulance before Jake could even get the chance to climb in beside you. They then spent another hour and a half getting Jake’s statement and taking pictures of his bloody clothes before telling him not to leave town. It was a fucking mess. Three more cops, who looked like they were more interested in getting a blonde nurse’s number than protecting you, were stationed around the hallway of the emergency room waiting area.

It had been hours since they had rushed you into surgery. No one would tell him anything about you because he wasn’t listed as your emergency contact. The nurse behind the desk did seem to take a modicum of pity on Jake–with a grim look on her face that had Jake’s stomach sinking–and told him to be patient and that the emergency contact had been left a voicemail and she hoped that they would be arriving soon.

What kind of emergency contact doesn’t pick up the phone?

Jake scrubbed a hand over his eyes, stinging and tired. But he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. Not until he knew you were okay. The one thing he did to help pass the time was telling the group chat which hospital you’d been taken to—but he kept his phone on silent when almost everyone asked what had happened. They’d probably be able to connect the dots if they were on the way to your house. There was blood smeared out onto the front stoop and into the driveway. It would paint quite a picture. The only person he actually replied to was Rooster, who had texted him outside the group.

It was him, wasn’t it?

All Jake could think to type in return was, Of course it fucking was.

He jumped when someone fell into the seat beside him and it took a stretched moment for Jake to realize that it was Maverick. He hadn’t even seen the other man walk in.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked.

“I, uh, I guess I’m fine.” That was a blatant lie but neither man commented on it. “Why are you here?”

“Rooster is calling her brother and sister, and the Kazanskys, keeping them updated. He’ll be here soon but he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Cotton was stuffed between Jake’s ears as he stared at the older pilot, mind buzzing. “Rooster is her emergency contact, isn’t he?”

Mav nodded but had his eyes trained on the cop currently flirting with the nurse at the desk.

“What does he know? Does he-”

“He was only told that she was in surgery. As soon as he’s done with her family, he’s coming here, too.” Maverick’s voice was calm and even, the tone Jake knew he used when talking to his students.

Jake wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or comforted. So he settled on neither. “He doesn’t know anything? Seriously?”

“They couldn’t give him an update every minute. They’re concentrating on keeping her alive.”

Jake smashed his tongue between his teeth so he didn’t say something that would get him brought up in front of Cyclone or Warlock. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

The doors to the waiting room opened again and Rooster jogged in, eyes wide as they swept the lobby before they landed on the two pilots. He was then yanking Jake up and out of his seat and wrapped him in a tight hug that smelt of more bleach and sweat. And Jake froze for a moment and his arms hung limply at his sides before returning the embrace. “She’s gotta be okay, right?” His voice was strained like he was trying to speak while pulling Gs.

Jake only nodded. You had to be okay. Selfishly, he didn’t want to just have a taste of what it was like to have you only for you to be ripped away from him, bleeding out under his hands. He had felt your heartbeat slow and your body go slack. He had seen your eyes roll back, unseeing. The last thing he’d heard from the paramedics when they were shoving you into the back of the ambulance was, “she’s crashing! She’s crashing!”

But Jake still had to hope. He didn’t know what else he could do.

Rooster stepped back after a moment before Maverick suggested checking in at the nurse station to see if he could get an update. He was quick to do so and Jake watched the nurse turn to her computer, heart in his throat. Her eyes darted to Jake for a moment before she whispered something to Rooster. The other man’s hand clenched into a fist on top of the desk before relaxing again as he nodded and turned away.

Before Jake could even open his mouth, Rooster said, “they don’t know how long she’s going to be in surgery. But they’ll tell us as soon as she’s out.”

“That’s it?” Jake bit out. “That’s all they could tell you?”

“Seresin-”

Jake stepped away for a moment, shoving a hand through his hair. Screaming in the middle of the waiting room wouldn’t help. You would still be on a table in a room he couldn’t get in and he’d probably get thrown out of the hospital. That wouldn’t help you.

He just wanted to see you again. Wanted to know you were going to be okay.

“Listen,” Rooster started, “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I had to call Georgie and Danny and Georgie was afraid she’d gone into early labor as I was telling her. Then I had to call Sarah just as Bob and Phoenix showed up to clean up Punch’s house. We didn’t want her to come back to a mess after all this is settled.”

If she gets out was left unsaid. Truthfully, Jake wasn’t even sure you would want to go back to your house after all of that. Hedidn’t want you to go back, but that was a different argument.

Maverick stood, slapping his hands on his thighs as he did. “I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll bring you back a cup.” He didn’t let either of the other men argue before he was setting off down the hall where he’d surely come back with three cups of brown sludge.

Rooster sank back into a plastic chair and Jake slowly followed his lead.

The cops hadn’t even turned their heads when Jake had yelled. There was no way he was leaving until he knew you were safe. “Is Georgie okay?” Jake finally asked after a stretched silence.

The barest hint of a smile pushed at Bradshaw’s mouth before quickly fading. “Yeah. She’s okay. Baby is, too, and has a few more weeks before her due date. I had to convince her not to get on a plane and come down here.” He sighed. “Danny said he’d come down only if Punch asked him herself. He knows how she gets about people wanting to take care of her.”

Jake almost laughed. Yeah, he knew that, too.

“But I think he called the chief of police here and is threatening legal action for their shoddy work already.”

“Her entire family operates on a different frequency, huh?”

Bradshaw’s eyes cut to him for a moment. “I think they’re gonna like you.”

That made Jake smile. Just for a split second. Just until he remembered that you still had to pull through in order for him to meet them. He didn’t want to meet them at your funeral. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” It was soft. Softer than anything he’d ever heard come from Rooster’s mouth. It twisted behind Jake’s ribs. “You just gotta, you know, actually get your head out of your ass and ask her to dinner or something.”

Jake huffed, another trace of a smile on his face. He could refute that claim, tell him that you had promised to go get steak and that Jake saw a future with you that he would tear the world apart to see. But he didn’t. That was your secret for now. “What did you tell everyone?”

The man sighed. “The truth: Punch was nearly killed by a crazy ex-boyfriend with a vendetta.”

It was an oversimplified version of the truth, but it was a kindness, Jake supposed, to keep the gory details unspoken. You would tell the Daggers if you wanted. A small bit of shame bit at the back of his mind when he realized how intent he had been about learning your secrets. Did you resent him for it? He hoped not, but he would closely guard your secrets anyway. If he was given the chance, he’d keep all your secrets.

Rooster shook his head, letting his head fall against the wall with a dull thunk. “Georgie knows most of what happened with Luke but apparently Punch made her promise not to tell Danny that the money she gave their parents to pay off his medical bills came from Luke’s father paying her to keep her mouth shut.”

Jake screwed his eyes shut with that revelation. You were always taking care of someone else.

Maverick came back with three cups of coffee that did actually taste like tar but Jake choked it down anyway. Just as he threw his cup into the trash can, a door down the hallway opened. A woman in dark scrubs stepped out. Jake watched her step to the nurse’s station and say something before the nurse pointed at their small group.

All of them stood as she approached and Jake’s blood roared in his ears as she asked which one of them was Bradshaw. He stepped forward and Jake felt a small glimmer of hope start to spark in his chest when she smiled. “She’s a fighter. She coded twice but she came right back each time. Her lung did collapse but the second stab wound missed anything vital. If she makes it through the night, I would consider it an ‘all clear.’ She’s going to need to take it easy for a few weeks after she gets discharged here, but I am almost certain that she’ll make a full recovery.”

The rock that had settled over Jake’s heart disappeared.

You were going to be okay.

You were going to be okay.

He was going to take you to get steak. He was going to take you on that promised date. He was going to make you smile again, make you laugh. You were going to be okay.

“Can we go see her?” Maverick asked.

The doctor nodded. “She’s sedated and we’ve moved her to a private room, but I’m a firm believer in surrounding yourself with people who love you helps with the healing process. Visiting hours are over, so you’ll need to keep it down but I’ll bring you to her.”

The square hospital hallways seemed to stretch on forever and the elevator actually did stall between floors but soon Jake was pushing into your room, ignoring the pair of uniformed cops on either side of your door. There were machines everywhere and an IV drip, too.

He must have paused in the doorway because Rooster clapped him on the shoulder before scooting by him to stand at your side.

“She’d want you to be here.”

Jake looked to see Maverick standing at his side, more than a little uneasy with the glint in the older man’s eye.

“I’m not blind, Seresin. If I hadn’t known before, the way you acted tonight made it glaringly obvious.”

Shit. This could be bad. Maverick could report the ‘relationship’ to the brass and you both could be reprimanded if not worse. “Mav-”

“But I can turn a blind eye when necessary. She means a lot to you, to Rooster. The entire squadron is either cleaning up her house or waiting for word on how she’s doing. This thing, whatever it is, makes you both happy. I’m not going to stand in the way of it.”

The smallest bit of tension slid off Jake’s shoulders with that. Maverick was known for breaking the rules when he thought he was doing the right thing. If he was grouping Jake and Punch into that, he wouldn’t fight him on it. So, he offered the other man a nod, thinking it was better to keep his mouth shut anyway.

“I’ve been told she’ll have a guard at her door for the entirety of her stay here. I’ll have an orderly take down the names of anyone you’re allowing to visit.”

Rooster nodded and Jake imagined he was probably making a list of all the Daggers’ names, the Kazanskys, and a few of the other ADs to have written down.

You looked so fragile. So breakable. Of course, Jake was well aware how finite life could be. He was a fighter pilot–he knew the chances of dying could always be slim to none when it came to real dogfights or combat. But there was something different about you. You weren’t supposed to be in this hospital bed and he wasn’t supposed to be waiting for you to wake up. Not like this, anyway. He had once thought about how it would be to wake up beside you in his bed, with blankets and sheets that smelled like you and your perfume. Not of bleach and metal. You were supposed to be full of life and giving him shit, all with a smile. Not this. Not confined to a hospital bed and unconscious.

Slowly, he followed Maverick into the too-small room and took the chair on your bed’s left side while Rooster and Mav were on your right. The chair at least had a bit of padding and his spine didn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself out of alignment. But he saw how still you were. Your chest was barely rising and falling with each breath. He couldn’t hear your breaths over the beeping machines. There were thick bandages covering both of your palms, held together with sticky medical tape. A fresh wave of anger stormed at the back of Jake’s mind for a moment. He hadn’t even realized your hands had been hurt when he had rushed into your home. There had been too much blood all over you; he had only seen the two stab wounds, pumping blood out of holes in your ruined shirt. What else had Luke done to you? It was a small solace to see that most of the blood had been washed away. There were still splotches of dried blood around your fingers and beneath your chin, staining around the crux of your elbow in a ring, just clean enough for all the machines to patch in, and even more beneath your nails. Just like Jake. You had fought so hard.

“I wanted to get steak with you.”

The simple sentence you had labored to say had echoed in the back of Jake’s mind since the paramedics had ripped you away from him. Had you been scared? Were you trying to say goodbye with those words but wanting to soften the blow?

He wanted to reach out and just feel the warmth of your hand in his again, just to give himself some peace that you really were alive. That you made it out. But the furthest he reached was right beside your unmoving hand. Just out of reach. What if he hurt you? What if he was the reason everything went wrong now? He couldn’t do that to you.

“I’ve called Cyclone,” Maverick said, breaking the tense unquiet. “He has notified the MPs and said we could formally request Naval security and he would personally make sure it gets approved.”

Jake looked to Rooster to see him already looking at him. “I’d prefer that.” The cops haven’t exactly proven themselves to be reliable; the fact that Luke had managed to evade the cops while covered in your blood didn’t exactly give them any credibility in their ability to keep you safe. Jake needed you safe. Knowing someone like Cyclone was willing to throw his weight around to make sure you were as safe as possible was a calming thought, as calm as anything could be in this situation.

“Me too,” Rooster agreed.

The three men were quiet as another doctor came in a few minutes later to look you over and read your chart. His eyes did seem to flit from Bradshaw and Mav to Jake and he wasn’t subtle when he checked the time on his watch. But there was no way they were leaving. He did seem to get the hint–or the cops outside may have helped–because he didn’t say anything about them being in there well past visiting hours and said that you may wake up in a few hours. He then left the room without a look back. It wasn’t a great deal of information, but maybe they’d get more out of the day shift.

After Rooster yawned for the third time, Maverick suggested they all go home for the last few hours before dawn. “I don’t think we’ll be much help here anyway.”

“I’m gonna stay with her,” Jake said immediately. He wasn’t going to leave you now. What if you woke up and you were all alone? Someone needed to be with you until you woke up. And Jake wanted it to be him. It needed to be him.

Rooster nodded, as if expecting that, as he stood and wiped at his tired eyes. “I’ll bring you food when I swing by tomorrow.”

It was a simple enough sentence. But Jake knew what it was. Approval. They trusted him to take care of you. Sure, they trusted him in the skies and enough to help in the infrequent bar fight at the Hard Deck. But this was different. This was you.

Rooster squeezed his shoulder on the way out the door and Maverick nodded at him in goodbye before saying, “you have my number if you need anything. You call, I’ll answer.”

Jake wordlessly nodded and told them to get home safe before turning back to you. You hadn’t moved. God, he wished you would have, selfishly. He just needed to know you were going to be okay. Again, he wanted to reach out and just touch you. His hand inched across the bed and fell short again. His one comfort was feeling the warmth of you start to soak through the bedding and into the starchy sheet beneath Jake’s palm.

But he still couldn’t touch you. Not yet.

Hours ticked by and Jake tried to not yell when he heard the repeated squawks from the cops’ radios outside your door, continuously saying that they hadn’t found Luke. It was like he had vanished. Then, when he tried to watch the tiny television screwed into the wall on the other side of the room, it was tuned into a local news station that was, of course, broadcasting their story about a “violent domestic disturbance” with your house in the background lit up in blue and red lights. “Police say that the suspect is still at large.” He quickly turned the television back off with a grimace and a matching curse. There was no way to make the chair more comfortable and Jake settled for leaning forward to settle his arms across the bed near your legs and drop his head onto his hands. This could work, right? And he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but a few minutes later, he was snoring.

Jake woke to the sound of poorly hidden whispers scratching at his ears and a crick in his neck. His eyes slowly opened, squinting against the brightness of the room to see Bob and Phoenix bickering not-so-quietly near the door. Both had large bouquets of flowers in their arms, along with a small bag from a diner down the street, and were dressed in their khaki uniforms; they must have stopped by before heading to base. A quick glance at his watch let Jake know that it was still fairly early, probably not even close to proper visiting hours.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Phoenix said. “I knew he wouldn’t leave her.”

“I refuse to acknowledge a bet right now.” But Bob still pulled out his wallet and handed over a crisp bill to his pilot. “Ridiculous.”

“I am clinging to the fact that she’s alive enough for him to fall asleep at her bedside, all right? I need a little joy.”

“And ten dollars, apparently.”

“I’m awake, you know,” Jake groused as he sat straight. Both his neck and back popped noisily and Bob grimaced at the noise but Jake hardly cared as he turned to look at you, hoping that your beautiful eyes would be open and you could smile at him again.

But you were still unmoved on the flat pillow. Nothing had changed.

As if on autopilot, Jake reached out to grab your hand but stopped short, curling his fingers into his palm before his hand fell back into his lap.

“I’m surprised you slept at all,” Bob said as he took the flowers from Phoenix and filled a vase–that he apparently brought with him–with water and dropped both bouquets into it before setting it near the window.

“It was an accident,” Jake said, turning his head left, then right, eliciting another pair of pops. He probably should get up and splash some water on his face at least. Maybe he could ask Rooster or Javy to swing by his house and grab him a change of clothes. He scrubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw a text from Maverick telling him that he had been cleared to take the day off. He hadn’t even thought about that. All of his thoughts had been consumed by you. Phoenix handed him the diner bag and said it was from Rooster but he caught the knowing look in her eye. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered right now. He didn’t care about hiding how he felt about you now. To be fair, she had probably suspected something at brunch.

Bob hummed and took the chair Rooster had used last night before scooting closer to the side of the bed. He carefully took one of your hands in his, mindful of your bandaging and the wires and tubes connecting you to the machines, and kissed your fingers. “Hi, Punch,” he whispered.

Jake looked away, feeling a bit like he was intruding. He knew how much this must be hurting Bob, too. To know that the man that he had saved you from once, had tried to kill you again.

Bob had no problem touching you. So, why couldn’t Jake? He just needed to reach out and touch you. Just slip his fingers beneath yours and give himself that small bit of peace. He continued to war with himself when Phoenix leaned over just enough to kiss your forehead. “I have so much to tell you and I have so many questions, but you have to get better first, all right?” She whispered. “First you need to get better.”

Jake stood and gave them a moment, moving into the small ensuite to freshen up as much as he could and scrubbed a bit more blood from under his nails. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he nearly grimaced. His hair was a mess. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, and his shirt–not the one that was covered in your blood, that one had been handed over to the cops–grabbed from his gym bag in the backseat of his truck, was rumpled and smelt of hospital. He texted Javy and asked for him to bring a change of clothes and his toiletries go-bag if he had the chance after work. It felt like his entire universe had shifted on its axis ever since Phoenix’s text had come through. How many different ways could he tell himself that he nearly lost you? Still, he pushed out of the bathroom to see Phoenix flipping through the charts usually clipped to the end of your bed, and Bob slowly pulling away from you as he stood.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be going through those, Phoenix.”

But she waved him off, eyes flicking over the papers. “My sister is a neurosurgeon, you know. I helped her study all the time. I can read a chart just fine.” The other pilot looked over your charts in silence before dragging her gaze to him. “Rooster said you were the one who found her before the paramedics arrived.”

It wasn’t a question but Jake still nodded with his stomach curling into knots.

She snapped the chart shut and clipped back onto the edge of your bed. “You helped save her life. Keeping pressure on her wounds likely kept her from bleeding out before they could sew her back up. Your hands helped her then, they won’t hurt her now.”

Bob stepped to his pilot’s side with a sigh, halting anything Jake could have said. “We should probably get back to base.” He then clapped Jake on the shoulder with a small smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Phoenix essentially did the same and turned toward the door. Just before she disappeared into the hall, she turned back to Jake and set her mouth in a firm line. “You are two of the most stubborn people I’ve met. But don’t be stubborn with this. Okay?” And then she turned and left, leaving Jake alone with you again.

Damn.

They won’t hurt her now.

He had to believe her. He had to. Slowly, Jake sat back down and reached out. His hand hovered over yours for a moment before gently falling over yours, mindful of your bandages. You were warm, so warm. Alive. Tears stung at Jake’s eyes as he curled his fingers around yours. He had nearly lost you. He could still see your scared eyes looking up at him. He could still see the blood on your teeth. He could still see it all. Jake raised your joined hands to his mouth and he brushed a kiss to your fingers. “I’m right here, Punch. All right? I just need you to wake up for me. Show me those beautiful eyes, darlin’.”

But you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t move. And Jake had to continue to hope that you would soon.

A nurse came in a few moments later and looked you over, carefully poking and prodding before injecting something into one of your IVs. The twitching of your fingers grew slower and slower until it stopped.

“What did you give her?” Jake asked.

The nurse threw him a look over her shoulder before scribbling something in the chart. “Just something for the pain. She’s going to be uncomfortable when she wakes up. That should just take the edge off for now, until we can figure out how she’ll respond to other pain medication.”

Before Jake could even think to ask if they knew when you could wake up, a familiar face was bursting through the doorway and nearly leveling the nurse who was trying to leave. Sarah Kazansky was a flurry of movement as she came in, looking like she’d sprinted out of her house at first light to arrive at the hospital.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Sarah’s voice shook as she took the chair at your side and set both her hands over yours. “What has he done to you?” The woman sniffled and moved to press the back of her hand to your forehead, the standard mom move to check a kid’s temperature, before setting her hand on your cheek. Sarah was quiet for a moment before she slowly turned to look at Jake with tears in her eyes. “Bradley said you found her.”

Apparently Bradley had told everyone more information than he had let on. “Yes, ma’am.”

She nodded. “I’m glad it was you.” It was a strange thing to say, but Jake didn’t voice that opinion. Sarah knuckled at the corners of her watery eyes. “You know, I always wanted another child—it wouldn’t happen, but then she came barreling into our lives and she just fit, like she’d always meant to be mine. Always meant to be the third kid for me and Tom. She knew exactly how to help me when I needed it, knew what Tom needed without him needing to ask for it. Lord knows he’d never ask for anything.” She huffed, a wet laugh. “She might not have come out of me, but she is mine. She’s my girl. And she looked at you like you hung the moon, you know.” She smiled at him then. “I’ve never seen her look at anyone like that. And then you looked at her like she had done the same.”

Jake didn’t particularly know what he was supposed to do with that observation, but he found himself smiling. Maybe he hadn’t been as good at hiding it as he had once hoped. And you had let your guard down enough in the home of the family you loved to be open enough to show how you felt. “Sometimes, I think she did.”

Sarah’s smile widened a fraction but still didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She deserves that. She’ll make you work for it though.”

“She’s already put me through my paces, I promise,” Jake said with a small smile of his own. “But she’s worth it.”

The older woman looked at him then, quiet and calculating, and Jake once again found himself fighting the urge to stand a little straighter in the presence of a Kazansky woman. She must have found something in his face because she gave a shallow nod before turning back to you. Her thumb swept over your knuckles. “Thank you for saving my girl.”

Both of them were quiet for a stretched moment, not needing to say anything else to each other. Sarah did stand when yet another doctor walked in and grabbed at your chart. “What can you tell me about her prognosis?”

The doctor, a man who looked like he’d been waiting for this exact question, nodded with a small smile as he folded his hands over the chart. “The fact that she needed little more than observation overnight is only good news. From what I understand from the surgeon, she is resilient. Once she wakes up, which should be shortly, she may be in a great deal of pain. It will only be temporary and I can assume that she will make a full recovery if she has the support she will need.”

“She’ll have it,” Jake said. You would have him no matter what you needed.

**

Coming back to yourself felt like swimming through tar, slow and strenuous. Even opening your eyes was a herculean effort and you immediately hated how bright the room was. It felt as if you’d tried to inhale an over-bleached towel and you tried to swallow any spit to help with the dryness but only ended up coughing. That was when your body decided to remind you that you had been stabbed twice. The pain stretched across your body like a whip of heat lashed out from your stomach. You bit back another cough and grimaced as it only made your throat ache. You looked to the side to see if there was a glass of water or something you could sip on and the room tilted for a moment.

“Fuck.” You hurriedly shut your eyes to keep your stomach from lurching. A section of the bed falling near your knees had you slowly opening one eye.

It was Jake.

Your Ken.

And he was sticking a bendy straw into a small cup of water before holding it near your mouth after pushing the button on the side of the bed to get you into a slightly elevated position, sitting instead of fully on your back. “Small sips, okay, Punch? Don’t overdo it.”

The water almost had you wincing as it filled your overly dry mouth but you still took a few more sips, breathing easier when your throat didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore. As you took a final sip, straw falling from your lips, you were still looking at Jake, feeling a little less like a human bobble head, but still a little strange.

He only stepped away from you for a moment to call for a nurse before returning to your side again. He didn’t say much, but his eyes were roving all over you, making you think he was trying to find something you were hiding. In your hazed mind, you wondered what you could possibly be hiding. Did you take his car keys?

The small bit of confusion continued as a nurse swept into the room and started to ask you a few questions you blearily answered and then had to sit still while a doctor looked you over, too, pressing lightly at your side and checking the weird tube and patch jutting out under your arm. By the time they finished and you were nodding along when they said they would be back to check on you again later in the day, you felt a little more settled in your skin.

Jake, who had stood near the window the entire time and hadn’t moved aside from nodding when the doctor or nurse told or asked him something, moved to stand at your side again. “How’re you feeling? What do you need?”

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

Jake’s smile was shaky and you could tell he was tired–you couldn’t miss the rumpled shirt and matching hair, nor the dark circles beneath his eyes. But he was still beautiful. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that, Punch.”

“I feel like I’ve been stabbed twice and then put in one of those spinners at the state fair.”

“Well, you look great, all things considered.” His fingers brushed your cheek and you leaned into it as best you could.

“You’re such a liar. I know I look like shit.”

“You’re beautiful, same as always. Just a little banged up.” And he said it so sincerely that you almost had tears in your eyes.

You hated that it took being stabbed twice for you to give yourself permission to really try to be happy again. Jake could make you happy, wanted to make you happy, would make you happy. You knew that even with the residual effects of the anesthesia and everything else falling on your shoulders.

You just had to let him.

“Do you still want to get that steak dinner with me?” You asked, hating how small your voice sounded.

Jake smiled—fucking smiled—and moved to smooth a hand over your forehead before brushing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you cleared for solid foods first, okay?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hell yes. But let’s make sure you can move without tearing a stitch.”

You smiled, ignoring how you felt one of your lips start to crack. “I’ll even let you pick me up.”

Jake’s sea glass eyes sparkled in the shitty fluorescent lights. He’d always been so pretty. “And you’ll let me pay? What about bringing you flowers, can that be negotiated?”

Just for a moment, you paused as thoughts raced through your mind. This was different. He wasn’t Luke and you weren’t scared of him. “Only if I get to take you out to ice cream afterward.”

“Oh, you’re already thinking you’ll make it to dessert?” He teased with a smirk you could feel pressing into your skin as he brushed another kiss against your forehead. “Presumptuous.”

“I have it on good authority that you may like me, even when I look like death.” You hoped your smile was convincing as he stepped back, warm hand still holding the side of your throat.

His thumb smoothed a gentle path across your pulse as his green eyes locked with yours. “You look like you beat death back with a stick.” He paused and you knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s a good look, you know. But I’d appreciate it if I never have to see you like this again.” His words held none of his usual bravado or confidence and your heart dropped when you noticed just how sad he looked. And not just sad. Scared.

You blindly reached up to grasp at his hand, curling your fingers over his thumb in an attempt to prove to him that you were okay–you could deal with the slight ache in your hands later. You just needed him to be okay, too. “It was a baseball bat, but I can promise you I have zero intention of trying to do it again.”

“Good.” He pulled in a slow breath and you felt him twist his hand in our grip so he could pull your joined hands up and he pressed a kiss to your fingers before holding your hand gently between both of his on the edge of your bed. It was like he couldn’t stop touching you and you reveled in it. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The simple sentence had your entire chest flooding with warmth. Feelings you had tried to ignore were pushing at the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t form the words. Not yet. Not even with Bradley’s words ringing like a bell at the back of your mind. “I’ll try to make sure you never have to find out.”

The look in Jake’s eyes had the warmth in your chest growing hotter. It was too knowing, too wanting, too…

His mouth opened and then shut again and Jake shook his head. He hooked a foot around the leg of the chair behind him and lowered himself into it as he kept a hold of your hand. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your face scrunch in confusion.

Jake licked at his lips and took a deep breath in. “They still haven’t found him.”

“What?” The single word cracked on your tongue as familiar claws of dread started to close around your heart. “What do you mean?”

“The cops lost him somewhere behind your neighbor’s house but-”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t tell me that.” One of the machines at your side started to beep and flash. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “Jake. Don’t tell me that. They-they have to ca-catch him! How-”

Jake moved to smooth his hands up your arms until he was gently grasping the back of your neck and he pushed his forehead against yours. “They’re out there, right now, looking for him. They’re not going to stop until they catch him. And he is not evergoing to touch you again. I won’t let that happen.”

“J-Jake.” His name broke in your throat and you hated that the tears you knew were forming in your eyes only brought you more pain and embarrassment. This had to be a nightmare. Had to be. There was no way you nearly died and Luke was still out there. “He…he…”

“Luke is not going to touch you ever again. I swear it.”

Tears blurred your vision despite the strength shading Jake’s words. “You don’t know that.”

“I do because I’m going to make sure he never touches you again. I don’t care if I have to put him in the ground, he’s not putting his hands on you again.”

The machines were still whirring, sounding your distress out into the room and letting it echo like a wraith in the sterile air. But Jake did not pull away, did not tell you that you needed to calm down or negate anything that you were feeling, but he held you through it until your breathing evened out again and you slumped further into your flat pillow but did not pull away from Jake. “I can’t do it again,” you whispered.

“You won’t have to.”

You blinked away the tears in your eyes and pushed Jake back just enough to look at him. The fear you saw in his face was gone now, replaced by a steely determination you only usually saw before climbing up into the cockpit of his jet. He was going to do anything for you–the thought was equal parts horrifying and comforting. “I don’t want you to get hurt for me either.”

“We are going to be fine. Both of us. And we’re going to go get that steak.” He reached up with his other hand to carefully cup your cheek and you remembered that he held you like this when he’d kissed you in your living room. It all seemed like ages ago now. And you wanted his words to be true, to know that you'd both be okay when this was finally finished. But something whispered at the back of your mind that you and Jake weren’t safe. Not yet. Not when Luke was still out there.

A knock at the door had you separating and looking to see a grim looking MP walking into the room. “There’s a detective here to speak with you,” he said, looking at you. “I can send him away if you’re not available.”

Jake looked at you, waiting for your answer. “Let him in. I should probably get this over with.”

The MP nodded and stepped out again before escorting a man in an ill-fitting suit into your room. “I’m Detective White, I just need to ask you a few questions.” He held out his hand but quickly retracted it when you reached out with your own bandaged one and then hurried to grab a small pad of paper from inside his jacket and tapped a pen on the top of it with a terse smile. “It won’t take long.”

Instead, Jake squeezed your hand with a small smile. “I’ll just be right outside.”

Would it be ridiculous for you to want him to stay? To say that you felt safer with him in the room? You could feel the detective’s eyes on you and you hated it. You hated how stupid you felt in that moment and how insecure and ridiculous. “Can he stay?”

“Miss-”

Jake immediately said your rank and last name, making sure to put enough emphasis on it that he knew that was the correct way to address you. It made you smile for a moment, knowing he meant it as a way to protect you. “I’d like him to stay.”

The detective’s eyes darted to Jake for a moment before he squeakily cleared his throat. Your name and rank soon followed and he tapped his pen on his pad of paper again. “That isn't standard procedure.”

“Look, I have two holes in me that shouldn’t be there. Jake held me together and kept me alive until I could get to the professionals. And I’d still like him to stay.”

Jake hid a smirk behind his hand before he sank into the chair by your bed.

“Okay, well,” the detective started as a ruddy blush blotched across his cheeks, “we can work with that.”

The interview took hours. You only stopped once to sip on some water and poke at the bland hospital food that was delivered and that was mostly at the behest of the bedraggled nurse who came in to check on you. And Jake did not move from his post at your side. When you had paused to catch your breath, embarrassed, angry tears biting at the back of your eyes, Jake always managed to keep you steady without even needing to say more than, “it’s okay, Punch, you got this.”

Detective White did actually shake your hand on his way out and you tried to ignore how his grip made you innately aware of the stitches in your palm. “We’ll get him, I swear it.”

You hoped he had more confidence in his police work than what you heard in his voice. He sounded unsure. When the detective left, you turned to Jake to see him frowning, yet again. “You feel as good as I do about that, huh?”

He sighed and shook his head. “They haven’t exactly proved to be reliable. Or competent.”

You laughed—it was worth the sharp ache in your stomach. You had to laugh otherwise you may cry again. “Well, I guess we will just have to wait and see.” What else could you do?

Another knock at the door pulled your attention and you were thankful for the distraction, even more so when you realized it was Rueben and Mickey now sticking their heads into the room. You quickly waved them in and let them shower you with movies and books they had brought to help you pass the time and you laughed when Mickey said you now had no excuse to not start watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The pilot and WSO were always kind and funny, but you could tell they had questions and you set the Blu-ray set aside before taking a deep breath. “You can ask. ‘s all right.”

You had always thought the bond between pilot and WSO was intrinsic and nearly magical, and you got to watch it in action when Reuben looked to Mickey and they were quiet for a moment before turning back to you. “Are you okay?” Reuben asked gently.

Your shoulders slumped. They were always so nice to you. “I’ve been told that I’ll be okay eventually. I just need to take it easy for a while.”

They asked if you needed anything in particular and didn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer and promised to bring you every unhealthy food they could think of once you were cleared for “real people food,” as they called it. Mickey’s watch beeped a few minutes later and he sighed. “Time’s up for us, Mav’s only given us an hour each.”

“Apparently he thinks that Cyclone would notice if we all just didn’t show up today.”

You had to smile at that. Captain Mitchell creating a timetable so all the Daggers could come visit without higher brass permission to skirt duty was probably the most on-brand thing you could think of him doing. It was a kindness, truly. Perhaps you should have confided in him—Tom had trusted him, Bradley, too. But maybe trusting people implicitly would take more time.

You said your goodbyes to Mickey and Rueben and Jake somehow got a blu-ray player delivered to your room and set it up quickly after belatedly pointing out the flowers Bob and Natasha had brought you—they were your favorites. You’d have to text them a thank you later.

“Look at you go, Ken. So handy. Next I’ll have you painting walls and tightening leaky faucets.”

A lazy wink was thrown over his shoulder in your direction. “Whatever you need, Punch. I’m pretty handy.”

You laughed and tried to ignore the stinging bite that came with it but you still set your hand over your stomach as if that would help disguise what you were feeling from his gaze. It didn’t work at all and Jake abandoned his task to hurry to your side. “I’m fine,” you said, pushing a smile to your face and hoped that would be enough for him to ignore how the heart rate monitor beeped erratically for a moment as you tried to breathe through the new wave of pain.

Jake shook his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m here to help you.”

You sighed. That would be another thing you would have to work through. “Sorry. I just…” Your words trailed off as Jake once again took your hand in his. He might be fond of touching you, but you knew you were fond of him touching you. He was always so gentle with you. “I just don’t want to cause a fuss.” Which you knew was stupid because you were in the hospital after being nearly murdered.

“You are worth the fuss.”

Was it pathetic to think of that as romantic? Maybe. But your heart still leapt as he looked at you but a familiar, self-satisfied smirk started to push at his mouth when your heart rate monitor betrayed you and let out a happy little beep-be-beep and there was no way you could talk your way out of it.

His smirk faded the slightest bit before he said, “I mean it. You’re worth the fuss. You’re worth a lot more than what you’ve been given.”

The fact that Jake wanted to be the one to prove it to you was even better. You just had to let him, you reminded yourself.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You and Jake retreated from each other (you mostly just pushed further into the pillow at your back) as Callie and Neil came in with balloons and another bouquet of flowers. They told you how the Daggers and other ADs were keeping it quiet about why you were currently in the hospital, but the Top Gun hopefuls did send along their well wishes that you supposed they mostly meant (except Royal, who you knew didn’t have a sincere bone in his body).

When they left, you got exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds into the first episode of Deep Space Nine before Billy, Logan, and Brigham came in with a teddy bear wearing a miniature version of their flight suits and your last name stitched over the heart. They also told you that there has been increased security stationed at every entrance to the base with extra protocols in place for entry.

Good. Luke probably wasn’t quite dumb enough to try anything on base, but knowing your friends would be safe on base was a comfort.

Javy was the next to visit, a small duffle bag in hand for Jake and wearing a suspiciously wiggly coat. He unzipped it with a wink and a familiar dog was carefully placed on your bed. “Sweet Pea!” You happily squealed at the sight of the tenacious Pekingese. She was quick to clamor up your legs to offer you a lick at your chin in greeting before immediately making herself comfortable in your lap. “You’re breaking so many rules right now,” you said, more traitorous tears stinging your eyes as you sank your fingers into Sweet Pea’s soft fur. You had watched Sweet Pea for Javy during his deployment a few months ago and had fallen head over heels for the dog immediately, even going so far to ask Javy for weekly updates, which he readily gave.

Javy waved it away and gave you a quick kiss on the temple. “You’re worth it, Punch. And she was missing you anyway.”

Jake nudged him with a halfhearted scowl but you hardly cared when your fingers sank into the dog’s fur again. You didn’t even mind when Sweat Pea started to gnaw on the teddy bear, she was your favorite and the bear was probably machine washable anyway.

Javy eventually left after a close call with a doctor who came in to administer another dose of pain medication and to check on your stitches. You and Jake eventually settled in enough to watch a few episodes after he changed into the fresh clothes Javy had brought him.

(“What is this show even about?”

“I have no idea.”)

After another gelatinous meal was presented to you and Jake only half heartedly tried to get you to eat it, you were handed a new set of pills by your doctor who told you that they would help stave off infection and probably make you a little sleepy, too.

“I do recommend you take them with food,” the doctor said after spying your uneaten lunch pushed off to the side.

Well, that certainly wasn’t going to happen but you said you would eat it before taking the pills just so he would leave the room.

“You’re not actually going to eat that, right?” Jake said in a low and disgusted voice as soon as he was sure the doctor was out of earshot.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. I’ll grab you a smoothie or something from the cafeteria downstairs. Do not take that without eating.” And then he was dashing away, startling one of the MPs at your door by the sound of it, too. When he returned, your favorite smoothie in hand, you had a hard time keeping the smile off your face even as the large pills stuck briefly in your throat. No one had really taken care of you like this. Not since you were a child, anyway. Red tape had kept you alone after Luke’s first two attempts on your life and you had to heal alone and in silence. This was new. Different. And for the umpteenth time, you realized that Jake wanted to do this for you. All of it.

You really needed to have a talk with him. A real talk. Unfortunately, it seemed the doctor’s warning that the medication would make you sleepy was an understatement. As soon as you finished your smoothie, you were already fighting to keep your eyes open. Jake took your empty cup from you and threw it away and you saw him starting to settle into his chair again, a wince already scrunching his features.

“You need to go home and get some sleep.”

Jake’s eyes cut to you with a frown. “I slept just fine here last night. And it is barely past lunch anyway.”

You sighed but the fondness clouding your lungs had it sounding a little forced and your limbs were sagging with the need for sleep. “Stubborn man. You have work tomorrow. I won’t have you falling asleep at the controls because of me.”

“I could just not go in,” he muttered like a child.

“Ken!” You chided, fighting a smile, lips twitching at the corners. “I’m not worth going AWOL.”

His face scrunched, as if he was insulted. “I already told you this: you’re worth a lot.”

God. He was infuriating and adorable. And usually only used one of those words when describing him. “I need you to go to work, all right? After getting a goodnight’s rest in a bed.” You watched him open his mouth and quickly added, “and no, I can’t just scoot over to make room for you in this one.”

Jake was quiet again, mulling over his options, before standing. “I can be back in time for dinner, or whatever slop they give you in a few hours, and-”

You raised a lethargic hand toward him and sighed when he laced your fingers together, letting his sentence go unfinished. “I need you rested, all right? I need you flying; that’s where I know you’re safe. Happy.” You yawned, the ache you’d been fighting settled into your bones, low but manageable. Damn, those pills were something else. And so were Jake’s eyes.

“I can be happy here, too.”

“Go home, sweet man. Visit tomorrow. Take a shower. Sleep.” You definitely were about to fall asleep. Everything felt so warm and loose, almost like you had one too many drinks to be tipsy.

“You saying I smell?” He asked with a laugh, but he still leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.

“Yes—like blood and hospital. But you’re still so pretty. Pretty Ken.”

He chuckled and you felt him stand rather than saw him as your eyes finally closed. “Yeah, my pretty darlin’. You win this round.” With another careful kiss to your temple and his thumb pressing at the edge of your chin, he was gone and you were out like a light.

The next afternoon, you woke up to the sun shining in through the window and Bradley setting a bag onto the chair beside your bed. When he noticed you were awake, a slow smile started to push across his mouth. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey,” you replied, the single syllable slow and syrupy with sleep.

He moved a little closer and you could see the circles beneath his eyes and his caramel waves were in a bit of a mess. But his service khakis were still neatly pressed—that was good. “You were asleep when I came in yesterday. Seresin said they gave you some pretty heavy duty stuff. How’re you feeling?”

That pain medication must’ve truly been something else because you mostly just felt uncomfortable rather than anything else. “I’m okay. Might be hungry though.”

Bradley’s smile widened a fraction and he opened the bag and pulled out a sandwich from the deli just off base that you frequented, usually with Bradley, and your cellphone which had almost 200 notifications. “I asked, like, four nurses if you were cleared for real people food and they said as long as you don’t overdo it, you should be fine.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you could overdo eating a sandwich, but you weren’t about to ask in fear of them taking the sandwich away and replacing it with the slop you managed to evade yesterday. It felt like heaven in your hands when Bradley (carefully) set it in your grasp. “Yeah sure,” you said, suddenly much more awake than you had been moments before.

But he also held out a bottle of water and shook it. “Water first. Sandwich later.”

“Then you should have led with the water,” you grumbled but you still drank it with careful sips after he glared at you after you sputtered over your first overzealous mouthful. He let out an exaggerated sigh when you pouted as he put your medication on the little table beside your bed and said you needed to take those, too. He really did bait and switch with the sandwich. A true big brother move that you begrudgingly accepted with a smile you tried to hide behind your water bottle.

(The sandwich in question was delicious and you didn’t even care that Bradley told you to slow down twice—you should have listened because you felt nauseous for a solid hour after polishing it off. Worth it.)

Bradley sat and watched an episode of Deep Space Nine with you before he told you that Sarah was planning on stopping by again today and that Bob and Natasha would probably try to swing by after being dismissed for the day, too. “Your sister is a very avid texter, by the way.” He pulled out his phone and showed you the fifteen texts he’d received from Georgie in the last two hours. They were all about you, obviously, and your stay in the hospital. Toward the end of her barrage of texts was a quick, also, Danny is wondering who this ‘hangman’ is. Might want to give both of them a heads up.

You almost laughed at that. After noticing your parents’ complete detachment from you, Danny had taken up the self-imposed role of ‘protective brother’ and had tried his best (either from a hospital bed or across state lines or both). It had always made you smile because he was more likely to throw a textbook at someone and then run away than to actually throw a punch. He was a good man. Gentle. A good brother to you. You knew he and Georgie would like Jake, even if they pretended not to for a solid five minutes.

“I’ll handle her. Promise. How was everyone yesterday and this morning?”

“Hangman was a little distracted.”

“Was he okay? Did he-”

“He’s fine,” Bradley said, fighting a smile. “But he did pull some stupid stunt when Royal was about to get tone on him.”

“Oh? It must have been something else if you’re calling it stupid,” you teased, earning a halfhearted glare in return. But this was good. Almost normal. Like you weren’t in a hospital and Bradley wasn’t taking a day of leave to stay at your side. Then you remembered… “Oh, Bradley, your date with Natasha! I ruined it! You were supposed to go to dinner, weren’t you? Natasha had a plan-”

Bradley’s hand settling over your arm quickly halted the rest of your rambling. “Please chill out.”

“Okay, but, what if I don’t?”

“They’ll probably have to sedate you,” he said, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “It is fine. Really. We rescheduled.”

“Easy as that?” You asked. Guilt still twisted your stomach. They had been in love with each other for years and had one date and then you had to get stabbed and ruin their second.

But Bradley nodded. “Easy as that. I took my time to get off my perch, I don’t mind waiting a little longer for a second date. We both would have just been worried about you anyway.”

You grimaced, guilt still gnawing at your bones. “I’m sorry anyway.”

“You did not purposely get stabbed so we couldn’t get a second date,” Bradley said, voice more serious than it had been just a moment ago. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. We have time. We made time.”

You moved to set your other hand over his with a sigh. “If you say so.” God, you hoped it was true.

It would be a long recovery, you knew that. But it seemed a little easier this time, even with the extra damage, because you had people that cared about you. You weren’t lonely and twiddling your thumbs alone in the hospital room, waiting to be released and being told to keep your mouth shut or to report to the brass as soon as you were discharged. This was different.

It was different when the Daggers still took turns visiting you and your fellow ADs did, too. Sarah stopped by as well, and made you video chat with Junior and Lily who both worried over you until you promised that you would be fine. They both offered to visit, or in Lily’s case she offered to smuggle you out of the hospital, but you declined and told them to both just focus on wedding planning or classes. “I’ll be fine!” You even winked for good measure.

Yeah. This time was different. Recovery wasn’t exactly a walk in the park and the tube coming out of your side was always annoying and bordering on itchy, but you got through it because you had people who cared about you. To your delight and dismay, Jake was the most frequent visitor to your stuffy hospital room. He brought food and books and seemed to be watching Deep Space Nine on his own because he was never lost when he sat down to watch an episode or two with you.

It was good and gentle and god you wished you could kiss him again. But it seemed he was trying to give your poor heart a break and rile you up at the same time. You had never been treated so…delicately before. Like you were something, someone precious. But god you wanted to kiss him. Even more so when he was the one to wheel you out of the hospital, complete with boyish car noises when he would speed around a corner. You weren’t even a little surprised when he drove you to the temporary housing on base instead of your house, only relieved. Bob and Natasha had been the one to tell you it was probably a good idea for you to not stay at your house for the time being and had set up your stay on base. You didn’t need a ton of convincing; you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to step foot into your little bungalow again without seeing Luke hiding in the shadows or your blood staining the floors.

The temporary housing was little more than a hotel room with a kitchenette, but you weren’t about to complain. Not when all of the Daggers and your fellow ADs were waiting inside with balloons and your favorite junk food to welcome you ‘home.’ Natasha and Bradley had brought all of your clothes and a few of your pictures, too, to help make it seem a little more like home. Over a glass of a virgin Bee’s Knees, whipped up by Penny who asked you if you were taking your medicine with a motherly look, you caught Jake’s eye across the small living room as he spoke with Callie. He smiled and raised his beer in your direction with a wink.

Oh, what an asshole. It should not be allowed for him to look like that and not want to kiss him senseless. Or have him kiss you senseless. Either way, someone should be getting kissed senseless. But he had been almost resolute in not kissing you. A small voice at the back of your mind whispered that maybe all of this, the stalking, the blood, the stress, the hospital stay, had all been too much for him. That you had been too much for him.

But he had been sweet. He kissed your cheeks, your temples, the tip of your nose. He held your hand and made you smile and laugh when you needed it most. He wanted to be near you. Didn’t he? You hoped so. He never seemed to care when you called in the middle of the night with another nightmare filled with Luke and hidden knives, making the drive across base to sit with you in the low light of your temporary living room, sipping on hot chocolate and watching Golden Girls reruns in silence until you fell asleep again. “If you call, I’ll come,” he had said. And he did. Every time. Didn’t make it any less confusing though.

It was entirely unsurprising to be put onto desk duty when you were finally able to report back to base two days later. Admiral Bates was kind and popped his head into your office every other hour to make sure you were comfortable. “You can leave at any time, if needed. Please take it easy.” Admiral Simpson also seemed to be doing the most to not even give you paperwork to do. They were being kind but you were so bored. It didn’t feel like you worked if you didn’t have oil soaked into your skin by lunch. The other ADs kept you up to date on what each of the jets needed every day so you could jump right back in when you were cleared for it.

You actually volunteered to take on the extra paperwork from the other ADs so you could still feel like you were contributing a few days into your new duties. It sometimes had you staying later than everyone else but you slowly started to enjoy the quiet of your office when almost everyone had gone home, especially on Fridays before the start of the weekend.

Almost everyone.

A knock at your door had you looking up to see Jake leaning against the frame and you hated how your heart leapt at the sight of him…and how the sleeve of his service khakis strained against the bulk of his arm. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey stranger,” you replied, setting your pen down. With the outgoing of the Top Gun graduates and the incoming of a new class, Jake had been busy alongside most of the Daggers. There were rumblings of a deployment, too, so you tried not to take his absence personally. If you had been out in the hangar or on the flight line, you would have seen more of him. Also, a lot of your free time was filled with check ups with your doctor and your new therapist. Both seemed to be hopeful for you. Your writing was going well, too, if you did say so yourself. Both Natasha and Bradley were still buzzing in that new relationship glow and you were so happy for them to finally be together—you even made sure to have them do the necessary paperwork as soon as possible so nothing would take them off guard. Detective White and the rest of the cops on your case were apparently following leads about Luke’s whereabouts but didn’t have much more to say other than, “when we know something, we will let you know.” You tried not to dwell on it, focusing on what made you happy. And you hardly left base anyway.

“I’ve got a question for you.” He walked into your office with a smirk playing on his mouth and an arm tucked behind his back.

“I’ve got an answer.”

When he reached the edge of your desk, he pulled an almost comically large bouquet of flowers out from behind his back. It was a beautiful mix of sunflowers, peonies, and tulips and you took them carefully as you stood, your heart in your throat. “These are for you.”

“They’re gorgeous, but that is not a question, you know. Questions are meant to gain an answer, or elicit information from another party-”

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes. “Busting my balls after I give you flowers? I should have expected that.”

You laughed and brushed your fingers against the buttery petals, delighting in the soft aroma of the bouquet. “Probably.”

“But my question was,” he started, pausing either for dramatic effect or just to rile you up. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

The smile that split your face almost hurt and you attempted to hide it behind the flowers for a moment before Jake hooked a finger in the wrapping and slowly pulled it down with a smile of his own. “You sure did take your time asking.”

Jake’s smile grew. “Technically, you asked back at the hospital, but since you never followed up on it, I figured I could be the bigger person and ask you.”

Your mouth opened then closed again as an embarrassed heat started to inch its way up your throat. “That…is not fair. You technically asked back at my house.”

“And I’m asking again.”

God, he was something else and you couldn’t help but let the growing smile split your face as you nodded. “Then yes, I am saying yes again.” What else could you possibly say?

“Perfect. Phoenix has a dress and shoes waiting for you in our locker room and I will meet you back out here in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Oh, you thought of everything, huh?” You asked with a shake of your head.

“I had some time. But you don’t—our reservation only has a five minute window.”

You grumbled good-naturedly to try to keep the butterflies you felt rioting in your stomach at bay. “Fine. I’ll be back.” And if your steps to the locker room were a little hurried, he thankfully didn’t mention it. The dress Natasha picked out for you was perfect, midi length with a slit up the thigh with a floral print—she must have found it at the back of your closet. The shoes were sensible but cute, found in a box you had kept at the back of your closet, too. Damn, she knew you so well. There was a sticky note on the dress’ hanger: Have fun! But not too much! Your makeup bag was on the shelf above and you hurriedly touched everything up before meeting Jake out in the hallway with your heart thrumming a happy beat behind your ribs. He had changed, too, into a smartly tailored pair of black trousers and a button up shirt of the same shade tucked in. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was.

Another smile broke across his face as he looked you over and you felt like one of your heroines when he reached out for you. “You look beautiful.”

As promised, he drove you to the ritzy restaurant and you delighted in the weight of his hand on your thigh the entire time as your flowers were safely kept in a vase in the backseat. It wasn’t until you pulled into the filled parking lot that you realized that you hadn’t looked out the window once in search of a black charger.

You felt safe.

He held the door open for you and tucked your chair into the table. It really was like a dream, even when the waitress flirted with Jake. Why? Because he simply reached across the table to curl his hand over yours as you fiddled with your silverware roll.

Gentle. He was being gentle and choosing you.

The conversation was quiet and easy as you ordered and you tried not to laugh when your original waitress was nowhere to be found.

“There’s this Italian place a little up the coast. We should try that next.”

While you enjoyed this peaceful bubble, you couldn’t resist poking at him like you always did. You cocked an eyebrow as you cut into your perfectly done steak. It almost melted in your mouth as you saw Jake glance at you as he cut into his own. “Oh, I was presumptuous by thinking we should get ice cream after this but you’re already planning the next date?”

His fork froze just in front of his mouth and you watched his eyes go wide for a moment. “I…”

“Relax. I’m always game for pasta.”

Jake’s answering smile split his face and couldn’t hide the tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Good. That’s good.”

As promised (after bickering over who got to pay for dinner), you had Jake pull over into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop on the way back to base and you each ordered their version of snickers ice cream. You both happily ate it as it tried to melt down to your fingers when you watched the moon’s reflection over the ocean after Jake found an overlook a few minutes down the road. As you licked the remnants of the treat from your lips, Jake hopped out of the truck and you watched him jog over to your side and pull open the door. He reached over you for a moment, letting his expensive cologne flood your senses again, and turned up the radio. Some old country song—yes, you would make fun of him for this later—filled the truck but you still put your hand in Jake’s when he held out a hand for you to take.

“Dance with me?”

The singer crooned about love and the moon and you laughed as Jake spun you under his arm. This could have been a scene from one of your books, you could scurry home after this, write it all down, and sell a million copies of your next book just because of this scene. But you knew you wanted to keep this just for yourself. This was just for you and Jake. You’d never feel like this before; happy, desired, fulfilled but hopeful for more. Hopeful for more with Jake.

Just for a few beats of the song, you wished you hadn’t waited so long. Hadn’t tried so hard to keep him at arm’s length. Hadn’t let Luke win for so long.

One song turned into two, turned into three and you only separated because a car drove by and honked obnoxiously. You laughed and pushed your face into Jake’s chest for a moment, listening to the rumble of his own chuckle. When your giggles subsided, you tilted your head to smile at him, probably looking like a loon but you hardly cared when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

He leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t move. His lips pressed against yours gently before you surged forward, making it abundantly clear that you were not going anywhere. His warm hands held you firm as they slid up your arms to frame your face. There was no resistance when he licked at the seam of your lips, and you didn’t even care about the happy sigh you let out, hands scrunching into his soft shirt. He tasted like ice cream and that damned minted toothpick and you couldn’t get enough, pressing closer closer closer to let him keep kissing you in any way he wanted.

It wasn’t until your lungs protested that you broke away, chest heaving with the need for air. Jake stole another quick kiss anyway, letting you feel his smile against your mouth. “Let me get you home, darlin’.”

You nodded with a smile you hoped wasn’t too wide and let him buckle you in after he opened the truck door for you again. The smile, however, couldn’t be contained when his hand once again found a home on your thigh. When he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the stretch of temporary housing buildings, you let out a laugh when Jake all but bolted out of his seat to run around to your side of the truck and open your door, your flowers in hand. You slipped your hand into the crook of his offered arm and let him walk you toward your door.

“I had a great time tonight,” you murmured as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The dim light from the nearest streetlight cast him in a buttery light and almost made him look like some sort of old Hollywood leading man—you’d never tell him that. His ego was big enough.

“I did, too.” The warmth in his tone matched the soft look he sent you as you stepped up to your door.

You could have asked about the Italian restaurant he had mentioned earlier or bargained with him that you get to pay for dinner next time and he could pay for dessert as a reversal of what happened tonight, but instead, you listened to the butterflies in your stomach and asked, “would you like to come inside?”

Jake paused for a moment before nodding, almost hesitant.

You unlocked the door and waved him in, watching as he set your flowers on the small table beside the door. After setting your purse on the couch, you turned to face Jake and tried to resist the urge to wipe your slightly sweaty palms on your dress as you kicked off your shoes. Maybe you had misread everything. Or maybe he was still trying to “treat you right,” by his standards and take things slow. You wanted to respect what he wanted. “You don’t have to stay, Ken.” But god, you wanted him to.

Jake huffed before shaking his head. “You gotta know that I don’t want to leave, Punch. But I don’t want to hurt you. I would never-”

“I’m okay,” you let out in a rush. “I promise.” The smile you tried to keep from your face pushed its way free anyway as you shuffled a little closer to him.

“And I want to keep you that way.” Jake shook his head and you almost shivered when he let his fingers trail down your arms before dropping back to his sides, like he just needed to touch you. “Trust me, there’s nothing more I’d like than to keep this date going, but I would not be able to live with myself if I set you back in your recovery because I did something.” The slightest bit of pink dusted his cheeks as he said that, too.

It was so sweet. So adorably kind that all you could do was smile. “I’m not in danger of dying right now, Ken.”

“That’s not funny.”

You sighed and reached out to grasp his hands, pulling at them until they were pressing at your hips. “I’m here. Upright and mobile. I’m okay.”

“Your doctor said-”

“That I was cleared yesterday,” you said with a growing smile. That appointment had been a bright spot of your week for several reasons.

There was a slight pause before his hands tightened on your hips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Ken.”

You felt his fingers drum against the low of your back before he leaned closer. “So, for twenty four hours, this entire date, I’ve been trying to be a gentleman and you-”

“Oh, just kiss me.”

And he did. His kiss immediately dominated all of your senses, hot, heavy, and hard. Your back hit the wall beside the door and you could feel Jake’s smile again as you giggled against his mouth. This was perfect.

The smile faded as Jake’s mouth slid down the side of your neck, no doubt feeling your thrumming pulse, and a breathy moan slipped from between your lips.

“I’ve hardly touched you,” Jake said, words vibrating against your heated skin as you let your hands grasp at his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself to something. “You already singin’ for me?”

Your laugh was just as embarrassingly breathy, too. “Can’t help it.” You really couldn’t. Every nerve ending was starting to spark and burn delightfully, your mind already hazing. He kissed you again and his grip tightened on your waist before trailing up your sides.

He pulled back just enough to breathe against your lips. “You want this?”

The question cleared your mind for a moment but only served to send a bolt of soft warmth straight through you. “I do. I want you, I want this,” you whispered in return.

You could feel his answering smile before he kissed you again, harder and bordering on desperate.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

Jake pawed at the top of your dress until your breasts were spilling out, nipples instantly hardening against the air conditioned chill of your room. “Fucking beautiful,” Jake muttered before diving down to press a searing kiss right over the swell of your heart. His large hands yanked the rest of your dress down just enough for him to grab at your chest, squeezing your breasts together as he lathed attention on one and then the other and then back again. Kisses turned into licks, turned into the lightest scrapes of his teeth that had your breath stuttering and knees shaking.

“Jake…” Your voice was little more than a moan, torn from your throat.

Big sea glass green eyes peered up at you, nearing sparkling in the low light of the room, as he continued to bite and suck and kiss at the exposed skin. But then, as if knowing you were already too far gone for words, his lips closed around a nipple and tugged, pulling a keening whimper from you as your hands wove through his short blond hair, drawing him closer. The heat of him, of his talented mouth, was all consuming. You couldn’t control the tightening in your lower stomach, nor the whimpers that left your kiss-bitten lips as he switched to the other side.

“So perfect,” he said, words muffled as he burrowed his nose into your sternum. “Perfect for me.” He glanced up and your heart stuttered at the heat in his gaze. The green of his eyes was nearly entirely gone, eaten by the black of his pupil.

Your grip on his hair tightened the slightest bit, dragging him up again to press an open mouthed kiss against his wanting lips. “Take me to bed,” you panted.

It was a blessedly short trip to the bed on the other side of the room and as soon the backs of your knees hit the soft bedding his hands skimmed up your sides, dragging your dress with it. His lips followed, lathing heat against your skin and up your sternum. Then he slowly, carefully pulled the offending fabric off, taking care to not jerk your arms up too high or too quickly. But his attention was soon back on your skin, pressing his mouth against the swell of your breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, words muffled against your heated skin. He could probably feel your heart beating a mile a minute beneath your ribs. But you knew he did when he took a moment to press kisses to the raised scars that now littered your torso.

It was almost too much for you and you pulled him up and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt before shoving it off his shoulders and then did the same to the button on his trousers and shoved them down before grabbing handfuls of his unfairly toned thighs and squeezing. You didn’t let go when he had to step out of his shoes and shoved his trousers off the rest of the way. God, he was warm everywhere. “You’re pretty,” you murmured against his neck, letting his expensive cologne and heat keep your mind buzzing.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You had to laugh but it quickly faded when Jake’s roughened hands slid down the expanse of your thighs, and his mouth followed, sliding along the soft skin on your right leg and then the left, making sure to press a hard kiss to the scars there, too. The simple touch had you quaking beneath his grasp. “It’s only fair, darlin’. You know how much I love these legs of yours.”

“Y-you’re ridiculous!”

“Maybe, but you’re still beautiful.” His thick fingers slipped under the lace edges of your underwear and quickly pulled them down and you just as readily kicked them away. A hot kiss was pressed to your right hip and then your left before he gently shoved you back onto the bed, your legs falling open. Wider shoulders had your legs spreading further as he shoved his way between them and he licked a bold strip through your folds and nearly had you wailing. “And you taste so good, too.” Again and again Jake licked and sucked and nibbled until the heat that had started burning with the first brush of his lips overwhelmed you and stars burst behind your eyes.

When you came down, your thighs were wrapped around Jake’s head and shaking but he didn’t seem to care as he pressed a slick kiss to each of your thighs before carefully helping you set your legs back down before helping you lay further back across the bed. “Yeah, still beautiful.”

With aftershocks still shaking your fingers, you pulled him up again, tasting yourself on his tongue when it slipped between your lips. “Still want you,” you murmured, unabashed.

“You’ll get me. You’ve got me.” Jake curled his body over yours as he took your mouth again. You greedily shoved at his boxer briefs and let out a sigh when you felt the length of him press against the meat of your inner thigh. “Condom?” He asked.

“Got a clear bill of health and just renewed my birth control prescr-” The rest of your explanation was cut short when he kissed you again and you felt him press at your entrance. The first push knocked the wind right out of your lungs. “O-oh!”

“God, you’re so warm.” His words were pulled taut and his knuckles were nearly white as they pressed into the blanket beneath you.

You pawed at his shoulders as he sunk further, further, further. God, he was so deep. “J-Jake!”

“Almost there, darlin’, you’re taking me so well.”

When his hips finally touched yours, each breath was ragged and short as you tried to breathe through the burn that came with his size. He was so deep. Jake pressed gentle kisses across your jaw, murmuring to take all the time you needed but you saw his arms shaking on either side of your head.

“Move,” you said.

“You sur-”

“Move!” You laughed, but it was quickly taken over by a broken moan with Jake’s first thrust. Every drag and pull of him had new sparks sizzling up your spine until you were nothing more than a heap of shaking limbs and heated skin. “Jake, please!” It was all you could say. What you were pleading for, you wouldn’t be able to articulate, but it didn’t matter because Jake seemed to know as his thrusts grew more forceful, pushing you further up the bed and dragging a hand down your leg to squeeze at the dough of your thigh and having it tighten around his hip so he could reach further into you. “Jake!”

“Give it to me, darlin’. C’mon. I know you can.” His whispered words were scalding against your ear and you let out a wail as he hit something deep inside you again again again again. The feeling only grew when his hands swept beneath you on the bed and hauled your hips higher as he drove into you. “Is that it? That where you need me?”

All you could do was moan and hang on as he continued to hit that spot you had never known existed. Your legs lifted, too, wrapping around his waist and that seemed to be the right thing to do as Jake slid one hand down to grab at one, widening you up to his thrusts—and with just a handful more snaps of his hips, you broke into a million little pieces of stardust.

**

With just a few more thrusts, Jake met his own end, shuddering above you. And you were glorious, beautiful, sated. He had never seen anyone look so wonderfully undone as you. Jake pushed up onto his knees and could only smile down at you before stealing a kiss against your mouth and then another and another until he got what he wanted: a soft laugh, breathy and satisfied, if he did say so himself. The simple sound had his already thundering heart leaping. Then you reached up and pushed a few errant strands of hair away from his forehead. The words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back—he wanted to tell you with flowers and something sweet, not when you could think he was just caught up in the endorphin rush.

“You’re impossible, you know,” you said, snapping him out of his train of thought.

“What?”

“You’re still so pretty after all that? Impossible.” You punctuated it with a soft tug at his hair before your hand swept to his cheek and your thumb smoothed an easy path on the half moon beneath his eye.

God. He could look at you forever. “If I’m pretty, then you’re-”

Your fingers pressed over his lips as you halfheartedly rolled your eyes. “You already got me in bed, Ken. Don’t need to butter me up.”

Jake kissed your fingers before pulling your hand away from his mouth and leaning down to steal another kiss. “I think you should be told how beautiful you are every day.”

Jake felt you freeze for a moment, rigid under his grip. “Sounds exhausting.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” He could have said it then, too. Almost did. Instead, he carefully pulled out and smirked at your moan with the movement. Jake swept a hand down your sternum to your belly before rolling off the bed and walking into the bathroom. He quickly found a washcloth and ran it under some hot water and wrung it out before walking back out.

God, you were beautiful. Still trying to catch your breath on the rumpled blankets (and if Jake felt a little zing of pride and seeing you so debauched, so be it), Jake slid next to you and carefully cleaned up the mess he’d made of you. He couldn’t stop touching you. Didn’t ever want to stop, but he did eventually pull away to drag his underwear back on and brushed his lips against your palm as you reached for him, curling your fingers around his cheek. But even with you still on his tongue and your body heart bleeding over him, he felt the first tendrils of doubt start to creep up the back of his mind.

Did you want him to stay? Did you regret it? Did-

“Will you stay?” You asked, voice much quieter than you had been all night. It reminded him of when you were surprised he had wanted to go to Junior’s engagement party. Maybe you were nervous, too.

“Of course I’ll stay, Punch.”

Your answering smile was near blinding and you wiggled around on the bed just enough to pull the blankets down to invite him under the sheets beside you—wow, you both really just fell onto the bed, absolutely no patience. After you washed up in the bathroom and turned off the rest of the lights, you slipped beneath the sheets too, eyes bright in the moonlight streaming from the small window.

He could look at you forever. He just had to tell you that. Some day.

**

Things were good and fun and wonderful. Jake took you to that Italian restaurant and then you danced in your little living room. You went out to the movies and laughed behind your bucket of popcorn when the horror movie victims lived up to their cliches. Jake would press smiling kisses to your mouth in good morning in the shadows of the hangar. But he was also fond of swallowing every sound you made while driving deep and holding you close and you got to find out what it felt like to have the weight of him on your tongue.

Yeah, things were good.

Things were good even when Detective White called to tell you that Luke might have been spotted back on the East Coast—at least he wasn’t still lurking somewhere in the shadows of San Diego, waiting for you. It was good because you only had about a week left on desk duty and Bradley and Natasha were still annoyingly in love and Bob had agreed to (eventually) meet the woman Jake said was “perfect” for him. Georgie had given birth to a healthy, happy baby boy and you had plans to visit in a few weeks’ time with Danny.

You may have still had those words waiting on your tongue, unspoken and waiting, but you knew they were going to spill out sooner or later, especially when Jake kissed you so sweetly. Everything was strangely easy with him and you knew it was a little too early to think of the future when it was so soon into whatever this was with Jake, but maybe it really could be this easy. There were short tiffs, of course, but it was good.

Things were good.

“Hey, darlin’. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

You looked up from the paperwork on your desk to see Jake standing in the door of your office. A joke was on the tip of your tongue when you spied the envelope in his hands. You knew what that envelope meant. You knew that look in his eyes. “How long?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Oh.” You swallowed the lump in your throat and set down your pen with unsteady fingers. “You leave next week, don’t you?” You already knew the answer—Admiral Simpson had been heard talking about it yesterday.

Jake set the envelope down as he rounded your desk and pulled you up and close, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a slow kiss to your lips before standing straight again as his hands settled on your hips. “I don’t want-”

“You and I both know that the Navy doesn’t care what we want, Ken. You have to go. And I’m going to be waiting for you when you come back.” You tried to smile but you knew it looked more like a grimace. So, you tried a different tactic. “It’ll fly by.”

Jake pulled his lips into his mouth for a moment before sighing but you could tell he wanted to laugh. “That was a terrible pun.”

“I think you like me anyway.”

Jake smiled then, all softness and sweet. “Yeah, I think I’ll keep you around.” He pulled you close again and had you giggling the moment his lips touched your neck.

“You went on plenty of deployments before me and there will be deployments after-”

“Don’t say ‘after you,” Jake grumbled. “I don’t want there to be an after you.”

The words had your heart leaping. “I wasn’t going to say ‘after me,’ Ken. I was saying that after I’m cleared, you’ll have a few more with me. Okay? It is just this one.”

A small bright spot was knowing Javy, Callie, and Neil were also going with him. You and Jake tried to make the most of the week you had left before his deployment. There were quiet dinners in your small room and falling asleep in your bed as reruns of old sitcoms played on the television. There were quickies, too, of course, that always left your legs shaking and his come running down your thighs. But you still weren’t entirely sure what you were with Jake. He obviously wasn’t picking up women at the Hard Deck and spent most of his nights with you, slotting into place like he’d always meant to be there. But neither one of you had put a label on it. But you remembered Bradley’s scolding. You remembered that Jake himself had said that he knew you felt the way about him the same way he felt about you.

You tried and failed not to think about it too much as you walked with Jake through the muted crowds on the dock near the carrier. Dawn had just started to break on the horizon and your fingers brushed against Jake’s for the fifth time as you neared the ramp onto the hulking mass of steel. You only broke away to hug the others and wish them luck and safety before coming back to Jake’s side. There were too many eyes out here. Your relationship—no matter how undefined it was—was still unapproved and discouraged by Naval Regulation. There could be consequences if you kissed him goodbye now.

But you wanted to.

“You stay safe, okay?” You murmured as you turned to him.

“I’ll try my best, darlin’,” he said in return, grip tightening on his bag for a moment before letting loose again. Like he was fighting the urge to touch you, too.

The most you allowed yourself to do was hug him like you did the others while you blinked back the tears stinging your eyes. You should say it now. Say it. Say it. Say it. But wouldn’t that be cruel, to say it now when you couldn’t do more?

As you pulled back, it looked like Jake wanted to say something—his mouth opened and—

The carrier’s horn blasted and halted anything he might have said. You watched him shake his head before his hand fell to your shoulder. Only the careful swipe of his thumb against your pulse separated the touch from anything platonic. “I’ll be seeing you, Punch.” And then he was turning and walking away, a tightness in his shoulders you hadn’t seen since the hospital.

Something inside you cracked at the sight of it, growing larger with each step he took away from you. Every deployment could be dangerous. Hell, every time he got into the cockpit was dangerous. You could lose him.

And he wouldn’t…

“Jake!” You called out, his name bursting out from between your lips.

He turned back to you, brows pinching.

This was it. You didn’t want to hide. You would handle the consequences, no matter what they were. You needed to tell him. You pushed through the crowd and Jake dropped his bag at his feet and he reached for you just as you reached for him.

Your hands slid over his broad shoulders and up to cradle the back of his head as he curled his arms around your waist and hauled you close. You kissed him. You kissed him and didn’t care who saw as you felt him press at the seam of your lips and happily let him lead you through the unhurried but all consuming embrace; he had wanted this, too.

“Come back to me, okay?” You whispered against his mouth as you broke away, chest heaving. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said, voice strong despite the desperate look in his eyes. “I’m coming back to you. No matter what.”

“I love you, you know that?” There, you’d said it. For better or worse.

Jake’s smile started slow but soon lit up his entire face and he kissed you, pressing his lips to yours so intensely that you thought he might be trying to sear the touch into your marrow. “I love you, too. I have for a long time, I think.” And then he kissed you again and didn’t step back until the carrier let out another horn blast. “I’ve got to go but I will be back. I’ve gotta come back to my girl.”

You could only nod as he slowly walked backward toward the carrier, trying to keep you in his sight for as long as possible and taking your heart with him.

**

Jake hadn’t been expecting to be called into the Admiral’s temporary office before he had even put his duffel on his tiny bedroll, but here he was, standing in front of Admiral Simpson, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t what he was thinking it was.

You loved him. You loved him and he didn’t want to have it ruined by something as stupid as regulation.

Cyclone crossed his arms over his chest before sighing. “I should have you formally reprimanded and have her moved to a different squadron, if not an entirely different shore station. You and I both know that, Lieutenant Commander.” He was quiet and Jake felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He couldn’t lose you. Not now. “But I made Kazansky a promise. I promised to keep that young woman safe whenever she stepped foot on base. She is a remarkable AD and has proven herself to be an irreplaceable part of this team. The Daggers are better with her, and she is better with the Squadron.” He was quiet again and Jake tried not to feel too hopeful as the man continued. “I will require the necessary paperwork on my desk by 0700 the day after we are back stateside so I can pretend that you two went about this correctly and I won’t have someone with more stars on their collar trying to rip this squadron apart. Am I understood?”

“Understood, sir.” Jake didn’t even care that he was supposed to be on shore leave for two weeks after every deployment. He would get that paperwork to Cyclone an hour after docking if he had said so. Jake would happily do a thousand pushups before dinner and be grounded for a month if it meant that you didn’t have to hide, that you wouldn’t be separated because of protocol or paperwork.

Cyclone nodded. Just once. “Good. Dismissed.” If Jake sprinted out of Cyclone’s office, neither of them mentioned it. But the Lieutenant whom Jake would be sharing a bunk with definitely asked why he was smiling like a mad man when they finally crossed paths.

Jake didn’t care.

Come hell or high water, he was going back to you.

**

If Bradley asked if you were okay one more time, you were going to steal his lunch.

“I just worry about you!”

“Get away from me, Bradshaw. I swear to god-!” The rest of your rant was cut off by sweet Bob pulling you into a different classroom and handing you a water bottle.

“Drink this.”

You did as you were told and by the time the bottle was empty, you felt marginally less prone to lunch thievery. When you handed the bottle back to him, Bob sighed. He seemed to do that a lot lately and it had only been a week since Jake and the others had gone. “I’m bad at this, aren’t I?”

(The rest of the Daggers had been given a hard launch of you and Jake being together after Callie posted a photo to the group chat—it was supposed to be of her and Neil before they got on the carrier but you and Jake were clearly seen in the background kissing.

Not your finest moment but everyone seemed to be happy for you both and Admiral Bates chuckled after calling you into his office to tell you to fill out the required paperwork—how he found out was anyone’s guess but you were thankful that he was fine with it all. While the stack of red tape was a bit of a slog to get through, you finished it as quickly as you could despite being told that you’d have to wait to formally file it until Jake completed his, too. The stack of paper was kept safely in the bottom locked drawer of your desk, just waiting for Jake.)

“I’ve been told it gets easier,” Bob said with a small smile. “It’s only been a week, Punch. Give yourself time.”

You sighed and leaned just enough to press your forehead against his shoulder. Maybe tensions were high (with you in particular) because today was supposed to be your first day back in the hangar and…it rained so everyone was grounded until the weather cleared. “I mean, whenever you guys would get sent out I would worry, but this feels different. Is that stupid? Or am I just losing it?”

Bob sighed and you felt his hands start to press careful, patient lines up and down your back. “Not stupid and not losing it. But I think ‘s different when you care about the person leaving.”

“I care about you,” you muttered into his shirt.

“Not the same way and you know it.” His hands continued their careful touches and you relaxed a little more. God, whoever earned Bob’s love was going to be so lucky. “If I was a betting man, I would say Seresin is probably feeling the same way except he’s stuck in a tiny metal room.”

You laughed and a tiny bit of tension slipped from your shoulders. “Thank you, Robby. I promise to not throttle Bradley or steal his lunch.”

And now it was Bob’s turn to laugh. “Reasonable.”

The rest of the day didn’t exactly crawl by but you were still thankful to walk out to the parking lot by the end of the day, even if you knew you were still only going across base to watch more Golden Girls with a frozen meal. You’d get through this.

You knew it.

Just as you pulled into your usual spot outside your temporary home, your phone rang. Detective White’s name flashed across the screen and you sighed, bracing for no new news, before answering.

“Have you been to your house today?” He asked instead of a greeting.

“What?”

“We need you to come here, take a look at things.”

You were struck silent, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. “I…” What were you even supposed to say to that? “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The drive to your little bungalow was done in a haze, you didn’t even remember turning down your street or pulling into the driveway. Three patrol cars and a beat up Cadillac were parked along the curb, too. Two uniformed cops were waiting by your front door and checked your ID when you asked for Detective White before waving you inside.

Just for a moment, it did actually feel like coming home. This had been your home for almost two years and…

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”

The cruel echo of Luke’s voice had you flinching before the faded scent of bleach did. Your next breath stuttered in your throat as you glanced toward the bookcases and the floor beneath them. You had nearly died here. Nearly bled out in your home. It looked like all of your books had been placed in boxes, stacked at the mouth of the hallway.

You hardly saw any of it as your eyes were drawn to the broken glass that littered your kitchen floor and then the terrible deep, dark red paint splattered on the wall above your television.

COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE

“Good, you’re here.”

You jumped at the sound of Detective White’s voice and turned to face him with an unsteady smile. “I’m assuming you called to tell me about this?” You asked, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the crude paint job.

Detective White nodded. “Yeah.”

“I thought you said Luke was on the East Coast?” Keeping the angry disbelief out of your voice was a Herculean task—one that you failed, spectacularly, if the detective’s flinch was any indication.

He tapped his pen against his stupid pad of paper. “We had a tip that he was.”

“But nothing concrete? Have you stopped the search for him around here?”

“No, we still have the tip line open here, too.”

“Tip line,” you bit out. “But no one is looking? You’re just hoping that someone will spot him and you’ll be able to catch him this time?” Dragging a hand over your mouth, you tried to suck in a steadying breath that only marginally worked.

“We follow up on each one,” he said as if that would help.

“Sure. Of course you do. Is there a reason you needed me to come here?”

He then went on a spiel about you needing to look around to see if anything was missing or broken because there had been a series of break ins in the neighborhood and they just wanted to make sure that this was connected either to Luke or to the low level thieves before proceeding.

It took you about three and a half minutes to realize nothing was missing other than one of the knives from the block but you had a hunch that it was probably in an evidence bag, if the cops had found it at all. Your anger at the cops swiftly disintegrated into fear when you realized that it meant Luke was now back in the city. Or he had never left. Neither was a great option and you told Detective White what you thought and only earned another tap of his pen against his stupid fucking notebook.

You seethed as you stomped to your car and tried to pull in a soothing breath when you buckled yourself in. It didn’t work. But fine. You just needed to get back to base and slip beneath your room’s mostly soft blankets and pretend this didn’t happen for at least a few hours. Sure. You could do that.

But, just as you pulled onto the highway, your low gas light clicked on. Perfect, just perfect. There was a gas station just off the next off-ramp so you took it, hoping for a quick stop. But, of course, when you pulled up to the pump, there was a sticker over the card reader, stating that you’d have to pay inside. With a sigh, you locked your car and started toward the gas station. You made it two steps before coming to an abrupt stop when a bright red car screeched around you and came to a stop at the pump just beside your car. Whatever. Not your problem.

You heard the other car’s door open and close and then…

“Hi, baby.”

There was no way he was here. No way. No. Every hair stood on end and it took you a stretched moment to even muster the courage to turn to face him.

“Luke…” His name cracked in your throat as your heart hammered against your ribs. It only increased when you caught a flash of something in his hand, shining and terrible.

A gun.

You took a step back and then another and another as your eyes bounced around the parking lot, looking for someone, anyone to help you. And you saw no one, nothing except other empty cars.

“Don’t do this.”

Luke smiled, all teeth. “I’m having fun with it now, baby. I wonder how many times I can shoot you before you actually die? Maybe I should have gutted you, you know, see what you’re hiding inside you that keeps your heart beating.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that he was drunk, every few syllables slurred and messy. Your next step nearly had you toppling over as your heel collided with the curb. Pain lanced up your palm as you blindly thrust your arm out to keep yourself upright by grabbing the concrete pillar. Luke took a step forward and raised the gun-

The lights of a car coming into the gas station pulled his attention for just a moment and you made the split second decision to dash into the gas station when his head was turned. You nearly bowled over another woman as soon as you were inside, the bell above the door screaming your arrival, and you quickly bit out an apology before yelling, “he’s got a gun! Please—call the cops!”

The man behind the register immediately pulled out his cell phone and you saw him dial 9-1-1 before your blood ran cold when you heard the bell chime again. All the air in the tiny shop was sucked out when the telltale sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back filled the air. You knew if you looked behind you, you’d see Luke pointing a gun right at your head. Without sparing a look back, you dove down the nearest aisle, nearly bashing your head against a row of chips. You heard the shot tear through one of the freezer cases before the cacophony of screams and shouts of the other patrons rang out, too. Before you could even crawl behind another row of snacks or curl into a protective ball, the screech of the bell came again and the gas station was silent and still.

Instinctively, you knew he was gone again. In the wind.

You didn’t particularly remember the police arriving nor the “escort” down to the station. Giving your statement a handful of times felt robotic, detached. You didn’t react when the responding officers said Luke likely fled when he realized there were other people in the gas station. You barely flinched when Detective White came in and you saw him tap tap tap his pen on his notepad.

“It was Luke,” you muttered. “You can probably see it on the cameras.”

Your drive back to base hours later wasn’t exactly memorable and you sat on the small couch in the dark for a stretched moment until your phone rang. It felt like your arms had fallen asleep as you fumbled to get it out of your purse.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The sound of Sarah’s sweet voice immediately had you sobbing.

Unsurprisingly (but still embarrassingly), Sarah was in your little room within the hour and didn’t mind at all when you slouched into her lap as more Golden Girls reruns played on the television. Her soft fingers traced flowers and stars into your arm after your tears eventually ran out. She said nothing when you had told her what had happened other than a soft, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

**

Four weeks into the deployment, Jake was finally given allowance to make a video call to you—he had been told that he was allotted two calls every two weeks but so far he’d only been able to call his mom once. The entire deployment had been a clusterfuck. Jet malfunctions mixed with food past its expiration only added to the usual stress that came with a deployment of this scale. Having Javy, Omaha, and Halo with him was nice—Javy much more than the others, if Jake was being honest—but he still wanted you. He didn’t want to be away from you, especially not with how things were left when he had been called away. The fact that Luke still hadn’t been caught had bit at the back of his mind daily. He knew you were safe on base but…

The call rang twice before your pixelated face came into view and Jake felt something shift behind his ribs, like he was waiting to take another breath until he saw you again. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey, Ken.”

Jake’s spine went rigid at your tone. Even with the shitty connection, he heard how tired you were. “What’s going on?”

Your answering sigh crackled through the connection. “I’ll tell you when you get back, okay? How…how is everything going? Are you doing-”

Jake leaned a little closer to the tiny camera as if that would help you understand what he was saying. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that, not to me. You can talk to me, remember?”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment. “Fine. But first I need you to know that I’m safe, all right?”

Ice ran through Jake’s veins. No one should have to start a conversation with that. “Punch-”

“No one was hurt. I, um, I’m not really leaving base anymore—but I will be there to pick you up when you come back in. Luke seems skittish with crowds anyway. I’ll be safe there, too.”

“Just tell me what happened,” he said, voice a little harsher than he wanted and his anger dissolved when he saw you flinch. “Jesus, sorry. I wasn’t yelling-”

“I know,” you murmured. “I know you weren’t.” Another sigh pushed through you before you shook your head. “Luke found me at a gas station. He had a gun. He’s a lousy shot and took off when he realized there were other people around. Sarah and the Daggers are on a rotation; someone is with me all the time. Admiral Bates also had even more security put on each entrance to base, too, after I had to tell him what happened.”

Jake nodded, knowing that it was standard protocol to tell your commanding officer if something happened and the civilian authorities had to get involved. Knowing Admiral Bates was stepping up security was a small relief but Jake wondered how quickly he’d be court martialed if he just flew back to you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said next.

“I wasn’t go-”

“Ken.”

He might have laughed if this were a different situation. Realizing you knew him well enough to pinpoint exactly when a thought as stupid as flying back to you was crossing his mind, if you would be able to call him an idiot to his face and say something about using his two remaining brain cells to only make moronic decisions, he might have laughed about it. But he couldn’t so he didn’t. “What can I do?”

You were quiet for a moment before the smallest hint of a smile pushed at your lips. “Can you tell me something funny?”

Jake didn’t have to rack his brain a lot to find something, but he hoped it could keep that smile on your face. “Well, I’m on this boat with another aviator, right?”

“I know how deployments work, Ken.”

“His callsign is Honey.”

“Don’t throw stones in glasshouses, Hangman.”

Jake almost smiled then, too, and continued on. “But his backseater’s name is Badger.”

The quiet laugh you let out would have to be enough for now—it seemed like that small sound was all you were capable of right now. But the tight line of your neck and shoulders unraveled. So, for the rest of his allotted time, he took every opportunity he had to make you laugh. Before he was kicked out of the little room, you made him promise to keep himself safe.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“Love you too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of saying it.

**

You waved to Bradley and Tasha as they stood like guard dogs near the entrance to the parking lot. They’d come with you without a grumble but they appreciated the pastry and coffee you brought them as a thank you anyway. God, you just wanted to set eyes on Jake again. These past few weeks had been so fucking weird. Not leaving base had been fine, mostly. Having a friend or Sarah with you every night was nice for the most part but you did always feel like you were interrupting their lives with your bullshit. But even without that, the threat you had always managed to ignore or push to the back of your mind was now front and center.

Luke wanted you dead, no matter the cost.

And you, no matter how cliche it was, felt like you had just started living.

People had started to trickle off the carrier’s ramp and you tried to shake off the nerves you'd been living with for weeks. This was supposed to be a good thing. You scanned the crowds and spotted Javy’s girlfriend, Hope, and Neil’s parents beside Callie’s wife, and then you had to squint at the next group you spotted. Green eyes. Blonde hair. All of them. You knew them, didn’t you?

They seemed to spot you, too, and quickly turned course toward you. And then it dawned on you.

Oh god.

This wasn’t how you wanted to meet Jake’s mother and sister.

Sandra was leading the charge with one of her daughters behind her. There was no mistaking it now, they were headed right toward you.

“Hi there!” A delightful Texan twang hit your ears over the excited din of the crowds and you hoped your answering smile didn’t betray how nervous you were as you held out your hand for her to shake.

“I’m-”

“Punch!” Sandra finished for you before she threw her arms around you in a tight hug. And there was little fight in you to do anything but reciprocate. She rubbed your back for a moment then stepped back, holding you at arms length with that same warm smile on her face. “Oh, I am so happy to meet you, officially.”

“It is wonderful to officially meet you, too. I’m sure Jake will be so happy to see you both.”

Sandra laughed with a shake of her head as she dropped her hold. “We will probably just be an added bonus—you’ll be the star of the show, I’m sure.”

A surprised chuckle escaped you, a little strangled. What exactly did they know about you? What had Jake said? “Agree to disagree.”

Sandra was quick to introduce Mia, who also gave you a quick hug. “Kelly and Alex weren’t able to take off work but they’ll probably demand to FaceTime later.”

“I didn’t know you all were coming! Did you have trouble finding the port?” You asked, feeling a bit like you were intruding.

“Oh, not at all. And don’t you worry about us stealing too much of your time with Jacob,” Sandra said with a wink.

It immediately made your stomach twist. Oh god. This was embarrassing. “N-no, I, um-”

“You’re killing her, mama. Let her breathe,” Mia said with a smile. “Jacob probably still hasn’t grown a pair and said-”

“Mia!” Sandra scolded. “Language!”

Both you and Mia snorted (Mia more so than you) before her mother huffed and shook her head. “But she’s right. We’re just in town for a few hours and then heading up the coast to a cattle auction. We figured we could see him for a bit, we hope you don’t mind.”

You shook your head, chest warming at learning how adorably close Jake was to his family. “Of course not. I know he’ll be happy to see y-” Your words cut off in a scream as familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind and hauled you into the air for a moment as you were spun in a circle. As soon as your feet touched the ground, you turned and poked at Jake’s chest. “Don’t do that! You-” His lips on yours quickly stifled any halfhearted argument you may have had, too. At least for a moment. When he pulled back, a familiar smirk on his face, you were quick to say, “that's so rude. You can’t just kiss me-”

He kissed you again and probably would have continued if someone hadn’t cleared their throat behind you.

“Please tell me my mother isn’t here.” His words vibrated against your smiling mouth as he stood stock-still with you still in his arms. Oh, this was hilarious.

“I don’t think the Jurassic Park Tyrannosaurus Rex rules apply to your mom, Ken. She can definitely see us.”

**

“Yes, she can see you,” his mother said, a laugh muddling her words.

Jake gave you one last kiss before stepping back and hugging his mother, trying to will the intense blush he felt blotting his cheeks away. He really hadn’t been expecting them—he had only had eyes for you as soon as his boots hit solid ground. And the fact that he hadn’t slept properly for eight weeks might have muddled his thought process anyway.

“Surprise!” Mia exclaimed.

He was quick to hug her, too, happy to see her smiling in person again. After his mom explained that they were only in town for a few hours, you suggested getting a bite to eat at one of the diners down the road. That worked for everyone and Jake started to herd the small group of women toward the parking lot, only pausing when he saw you stop to speak in low tones with Phoenix and Rooster. It seemed the pair needed a bit of reassurance to let you leave their line of sight but Phoenix eventually poked Rooster’s side with enough force to have him relent. Jake raised a hand in thanks to them before you rejoined his little group and he let you lead him to your car as you gave directions to the diner to his mother. The ride was short, thankfully, but he was happy just to feel the warmth of your thigh beneath his hand as you drove.

The hostess was quick to seat them when they arrived and his mother made sure to shove Jake onto the same side of the booth as you with a wink that had another blush inching its way up his face. She’d never been subtle.

“Well,” his mother started with a smile as her gaze moved between you and Jake after you all had ordered, “it seems like we may have been left uninformed about a few things.”

“It’s…new,” Jake said, feeling like he did when he was twelve and had been caught with his hand in the literal cookie jar.

“It doesn’t seem new.”

Jake kicked his sister beneath the table and earned a boot to his knee in return. She hadn’t even flinched. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you guys seem settled, happy.” Mia paused, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk behind her hand. “Like an old married couple.”

Jake felt your eyes on him and it did little to deter that thought of you in a white dress and a smile on your lips walking toward him. Married. Jake knew he had thought of you in that way for months before he even knew what it was like to kiss you, but to hear someone like Mia say it? It felt like…

“Either way, we’re happy to see you both so happy,” Mia said with a wink, giving him an out. “And now we get to finally learn all about you. Jake was pretty sparse in the details he gave about you. Other than your ability to keep him on his toes and the way your eyes seemed to stare straight through him.”

His face was on fire now and the temperature only grew when he heard your laugh. “Straight through you, huh? What else has he said?”

“Nothing. I’ve said nothing.”

You patted Jake’s leg with a laugh. “Let the women talk, Jacob. You can try and fail to tell me that you didn’t say any of it later.”

The food arrived by the time Jake’s ears were burning and you were laughing like old friends with his sister and mother. He couldn’t help but laugh, too, at a few of the stories they told about him.

“Oh, but enough about Jacob,” his mother said, “tell us more about you. What do you do when you’re not keeping him safe at work?”

You smiled around the straw to your strawberry shake. “I’ve had some time on my hands lately, so I’m trying to write a book.”

“You write?” Mia asked, setting her fork down to give you her attention. “What do you write?”

Jake couldn’t resist teasing his sister and his tired brain forgot a key piece of information when he opened his mouth next. “Oh, c’mon, Mia. You’ve read her books, I gave them to you, remember?”

The silence that followed swallowed the table.

It took two stretched moments for Jake to realize what he had revealed and it washed over him like a wave of cold salt water. “Oh shit.”

You leaned forward to set your head into your hands for a moment before sighing. “Did you knock something loose when you were in the air, Ken?”

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re Georgia Torrance?”

You nodded as you sat back with a small, uneasy smile. “I am. I hope you liked the books.”

“She loves those books! She and her girls talk about them all the time!”

It was Mia’s turn to blush. “Thanks for that, mama,” She grumbled. Mia fiddled with her fork for a moment before her shoulders slumped. “Please tell me my brother hasn’t inspired your books. I’ll never be able to read them again if he did,” she said, only half joking if the strained chuckle she let out was any indication.

Jake hadn’t thought about that. Where did you find inspiration? While it may be a bit of a stroke to his ego if you did see him as a book worthy romantic lead, he could understand why his sister would never want to read them again. He watched you smile and set your hand over Mia’s across the table.

You leaned closer with a glint in your eye that told him whatever came out of your mouth next was probably going to leave him fighting for his life in front of his family. “He wishes.” And then you winked as Mia giggled. As his sister’s giggles petered out, your smile grew, but maybe a little less sharp at the edges. “I just wrote about what I wanted most in the world at the time. Someone gentle and strong and understanding.”

“And they’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, of course. I mean, not everyone is going to think all of my leads are their cup of tea, but if someone finds a bit of joy in my book, I think that’s just as good. I wrote most of them when I was at my loneliest, but I think the stuff I’m working on now is just as good. I hope you still like it.”

Mia’s smile grew and Jake watched her set her other hand over yours. “I’m sure I’m going to love it.”

“We could talk about it later, if you want? I’d love to get your input.”

“I’d love that. Really.”

The rest of the meal flew by and you earned a motherly frown from his mom when you managed to pay for everyone’s meal without them noticing just as they noted it was time for them to hit the road again. You and Mia walked ahead out to the parking lot, exchanging numbers and giggling about something he didn’t hear—but the sight of two of his favorite people getting along made Jake smile, too.

His mom grasped at his arm and pulled him to a top with a gentle look he knew well. Jake was about to be told something she thought he should know already. “She’s wonderful, Jacob. And you’re so happy with her.”

“I am happy, mama.” And he was. He hoped you were, too.

She reached up and gently patted his cheek. “You let me know when you want Gram’s ring.” Then, after kissing his cheek and reminding him to still call on Sunday, she said she loved him and she and Mia were gone.

And, really, who could blame Jake for thinking about the antique diamond and white gold ring on your finger? No one.

“They’re nice,” you said as you climbed back into your car a few minutes later. “I might like them more than you.”

Jake groaned, letting his hand find its usual spot on your thigh as you pulled out of the lot. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dumped for my sister or mom. That would be a first.” He then squeezed your thigh for a moment, earning a squeal.

You halfheartedly slapped at his hand as you pulled out onto the road, heading back toward base. He watched you bite your lip for a stretched second. “We would have to be together for me to dump you.”

What were you talking about? “Do you…”

“Look,” you cleared your throat, “I know we don’t have to put a label on things, but I’d like to know where we…stand. Together.” You then steadfastly refused to look at him as you took another turn.

And, really, Jake couldn’t really comprehend what he had just heard. “Punch, I was under the impression that we were together since you asked me to dinner at the hospital.”

You were quiet for a moment before letting out a soft, “oh.”

So, Jake continued, knowing he needed to lay all his cards on the table. “There is no one else I would do all that paperwork for, you know. I am all in. I’ve been all in with you since before I knew that you snore in your sleep.”

“I do not snore!”

“Yes, you do,” Jake said with a laugh. “But I am happy to hear it. All the time. Whatever you want, I want, as long as it is with you. You’re my girl.” This felt just as important as telling you that he loved you.

“And if I want the whole nine yards? Marriage, babies, a home?” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “For a long time, I didn’t think I could get any of that, deserve any of that.”

When you rolled to a stop at a red light, Jake reached out to tip your face in his direction. He wanted to make sure you knew he meant every word. “You deserve it. You do, all of that and more. And I would be honored to be the one to make sure you get it. I love you, darlin’. And I want everything with you.”

**

It was good to have Jake back for several reasons. One of them was that he took over all the “guard dog” duties (as he called them) at night so your other friends could get back to their normal lives. And you would never mind waking up to him on the pillow beside yours in the morning.

Knowing that you were on the same page with everything and this relationship was just…perfect. Something wonderful to focus on instead of knowing Luke was still out there.

Your name being called pulled you away from Natasha and Bob’s jet and you wiped your hands on the rag you kept in your jumpsuit’s pocket as you turned to look at Admiral Simpson a few paces away. “Sir?”

“I need you in my office. Now.” His mouth was set in a firm line with his hands on his hips. That was never a good sign.

A few of the other ADs looked at you as you followed the man out of the hangar and you tried to smile reassuringly at them, despite not knowing just what the hell was happening as you followed him all the way to his office. The grim look on his face didn’t budge even when Jake walked in a few moments later.

“Good. You’re both here.” He turned to grab paperwork from his desk. “I don’t want to be having this conversation. I want you both to know that.”

The rest of what he was saying was little more than a dull ringing in your ears as you realized what he was holding, what that paperwork meant. Something cold ran down your spine when you read one of the names signed at the bottom. You immediately recognized it. It was one of the big brass people who went golfing with Luke’s dad. It felt like the world had been taken out from under your feet and you were falling falling falling with no hope for a soft landing.

“We went about this the right way,” Jake argued, voice cutting through the sudden fog that had permeated your senses. “We filed the paperwork, we-”

“This comes from someone higher up than me, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Well, then what is going to happen?”

Admiral Simpson sighed and your heart dropped when his eyes landed on you. “The easiest route would be to have one of you reassigned.”

You knew it would be you. You were outranked and easily replaceable, all things considered. It would be you. And that was what Luke had wanted to do: to rip your home away from you, to leave you alone in the world again. But you just…

“No.”

“No.”

You looked at Jake and saw him already looking at you when you had spoken in unison.

“There are protocols that need to be followed. If it was up to me, this wouldn’t be an issue. Both of you have proven to be professional while on the flight line. But it is out of my hands. I don’t have a choice.”

“But I do,” you argued, turning to look at him. You rolled your shoulders back, wanting to stand as tall as you could with what you said next. “Please consider this my official acknowledgement that I will not be reenlisting at the end of my contract.”

“Punch!” Jake’s shout only strengthened your resolve.

“You do not have to make this decision now.”

“I do. I…I made a family here. I’m not going to lose it by being transferred to a different shore station.”

Jake whispered your name but you couldn’t look at him now. Not just yet. Not when you had all but set everything in stone.

“Are you sure this is the route you want to take?” Simpson asked, a surprising softness to his tone.

“I am. You can tell your superiors that this situation will be wrapped up in a neat little bow in a few weeks’ time.” You could feel both Jake and Admiral Simpson’s gazes pushing into you as you took a moment to glance down at your boots, trying to keep the resolve you had felt only a few seconds before.

Simpson was the one to break the silence. “I’ll get the paperwork started for you. I’ll have it on your desk by lunch tomorrow.” He paused and you looked up at him to see his mouth set in a sharp downturn. He shook his head before extending a hand out to you and you took it with a small smile. “It was a pleasure serving with you,” he said, making sure to enunciate your name and rank, too. You saluted him as he stepped back and then excused himself after a pointed look at Jake, leaving you alone.

“Punch…what are you doing?” Jake’s voice was soft but you could hear the tension hiding behind each syllable.

“I had to. I am not going to let Luke take this away from me. I have friends here, my best friends. I have made a family here. I…I have you here. I’m not going to let this all go. I won’t.”

Jake was quiet for a moment, sea glass eyes searching your face. But then a small smile pushed at his lips. “All in?”

“All in.”

And when he kissed you, you could feel his smile against your own. This was good, the start of something new.

**

Jake knew that the Daggers would take you leaving like a blow to the chest. When you asked them all to come to the Hard Deck, a place you felt safe in, a little before opening the following Saturday after your discharge papers were filed, there had been yelling and finger pointing and then tears.

Bradshaw had been the one to pull Jake aside when you were distracted by Harvard and Yale trying to get you to apply for one of the civilian contractor positions on base so you’d never be “too far away.”

“This is about Luke, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah. Punch thinks his dad called in a favor with his buddies and had had our paperwork pulled. God knows what he said to his dad to make him think this would help, but-”

“I’ll kill him,” Rooster said through gritted teeth.

“Which one?” Jake asked, not laughing.

“Doesn’t matter. Both of them deserve it.”

The group eventually turned into an impromptu goodbye party for you as the bar opened, despite you still having a few weeks left of your contract. Drinks were bought and shared and Jake noticed how you smiled through it all.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked quietly as he twirled you beneath his arm.

“It is,” you said with a soft pat to his chest. “I told you I wasn’t a lifer. Sure, this wasn’t exactly how I pictured getting out, but…I think I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” he murmured before reaching up to carefully hold your face.

The night continued and Jake bought a round for everyone after Javy announced that Hope had accepted his proposal. Hope showed off the gorgeous ring (which Jake helped pick out) to almost everyone with a bright smile and then Javy asked Jake to be his best man while you were pulled away by Bob and Phoenix for something. By the time Javy had told Jake the entire proposal story and Jake had already started a mental list of possibilities for his bachelor party, you had disappeared from view.

Jake was not entirely too proud to realize he started to panic when he didn’t immediately find you in the steadily growing crowd, but his heart settled when he spotted you on the back deck. You and Phoenix were talking out on the deck, dying sunlight painting both of you with a golden light. You were rolling your water bottle between your palms while Phoenix stared out toward the waves.

You were telling her about Luke. You were telling her everything. He could tell by the way you held yourself, back straight and uncomfortably rigid, only relaxing when Phoenix reached out to lace her fingers with yours.

“You’ll be good to her, won’t you?”

Jake turned to see Bob and Rooster both looking at him. Jake might have laughed if he didn’t see the sincere looks on their faces.

“I will. And she’s doing this so she can still be near you guys, it isn’t like she’s being sent across the country.”

Bob looked at Rooster, some silent communication passing between them before Rooster nodded. “Still, be good to her.”

“I plan to, for the rest of my life.” And he meant it.

The rest of the night passed with you beneath his arm, smiling and laughing with your friends. It loosened something tight in Jake’s chest each time he heard your laugh. You were going to be okay.

By the time midnight rolled around, the party had quieted a bit, Jake pulled you out to walk a little ways down onto a quieter stretch of the beach in front of a restaurant that had closed for the night, so you could watch the waves again, making you elbow him when he said it was “romantic because it was like our first date again.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

You hummed, a happy noise, and turned to rest the point of your chin on his chest as you wound your arms around his waist. “Yes, I know. You have a reputation to uphold.” But you still stood there with him and watched the waves until you shivered, the night air coming off the sea cutting through your thin dress.

“Ready to head home?” His hands traced slow circles into the low of your back, earning a soft sigh in return. You were content. Happy. That’s what he wanted for you.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

The yawn you let out next only made Jake smile. “Yeah, let’s get you tucked in.”

“You gonna rock me to sleep?” You asked with a lazy wink as you started to walk toward the parking lot.

Jake groaned only so he wouldn’t have to admit that the line worked on him. “Awful. Truly awful.”

You only laughed. “C’mon, Ken. Let’s go.”

He let you guide him up the bank to the restaurant's empty parking lot—he really did love watching your hips sway with each step. Just as you both stepped onto the asphalt, you froze and Jake didn’t realize you had stopped until he bumped into your back. “What is it?” Jake asked, looking up and trying to find what you were seeing but his blood ran cold when he spotted it. Spotted him.

It was Luke, lurking like a beast in the shadows of the lot’s street lamp.

**

“Get behind me,” Jake said, already pushing you to his back.

“Jake!”

“Come out and fight me! What, you have to wait until she’s alone again?”

You wrapped a hand over Jake’s arm as blood roared in your ears. You needed to leave. Now. You didn’t want Jake to get hurt, you wouldn’t allow it. “Jake-”

But Jake gently shook out of your grip and took a few steps toward Luke. “I’m here now, what’re you gonna do, huh? She’s not alone now—but that’s never stopped you from failing on doing anything worthwhile. You really are the biggest fuck up I’ve ever heard of.”

You knew what he was doing, goading Luke into attacking first so there could be plausible deniability. Jake wouldn’t be the aggressor if anyone asked. But still, you just wanted to leave. To leave and never see Luke again. You swallowed hard and moved to stand at his back again, hand tightening on Jake’s arm, ready to run. “Jake, c’mon.”

“How many times are you going to try to kill her, man? How many chances do you need to actually do something? Don’t you think it’s a little pathetic that you can’t do anything right the first time? And when you can’t, you need your father to come in and clean up your messes.”

Luke gritted his teeth, shining in the moonlight. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and muscle memory had you wanting to run. Hide. Or try to calm him down. But you couldn’t, not now.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know shit.”

“I know that you beat a woman for doing your job better than you because you liked the bottle more than keeping your pilot alive.”

“I was good at my job!”

Jake laughed, low and rumbling. “And you’re a shit liar, too. You don’t even believe that.”

And that was enough. Luke charged at Jake and you tugged you both out of the way, watching in muted horror as Luke pulled a knife from his pocket and swung blindly. When he swung again with a shout, you shoved Jake to the side and managed to step back just enough to only feel the air rush by your neck.

Jake stumbled and you saw his eyes go wide before he pivoted and threw himself forward, catching Luke around the waist and tackling him to the pavement. He reared back just enough to haul his arm up and landed a blow to Luke’s face. But Luke was not finished either. His head snapped to the side only for a moment before you saw the knife still in his hand.

“Jake!” was all you could scream. Not him. Not your Jake. He couldn’t take him from you.

But you weren’t fast enough. The moonlight caught the blade just before it arced across Jake’s chest as Luke threw his entire weight behind the move, shifting them both to the side. Blood bloomed and soaked through Jake’s shirt as he let out a sharp yell before he wrenched backward, away from Luke who was slowly sitting up, poised to try again.

You dove for them and your knees slammed against the pavement, skidding into Jake’s thighs. Your shaking hands wrapped around Luke’s hand and slammed and slammed and slammed it into the pavement until his grip on the knife loosened and you wrenched it away with a guttural scream of your own.

Luke ripped his hand from yours just enough to backhand you. Pain rippled across your face as white spots danced in front of your eyes for a moment but you hardly had time to recover before a punch left you gasping for air—Luke snarled something, drool gathering at the sides of his lips, but you hardly heard it over the ringing in your ears.

And then you were shoved backward, your spine flattening against the pavement with a muted shout of your own. Luke pushed himself up onto his feet, looming over you for a moment, cloaked in shadow. But you couldn’t be scared. Not now. You kicked, your heel connecting with his crotch, and sent him to his knees again.

“You bitch!” He seethed. “You-”

The rest of his threat was cut off as Jake’s arm wrapped around his throat, you hadn’t even realized he had moved. Luke reached up to claw at Jake’s skin but he didn’t falter, even as he thrashed in his grip.

Heaving yourself back onto your feet, you watched Luke’s face get steadily redder and his attempts to get out of Jake’s hold grew more sluggish by the moment. A small bit of you liked it, liked seeing the man who had tried to ruin your life and murder you over and over again be so utterly helpless. You looked at Jake to see him looking at you, silently asking for you to tell him what you wanted.

So, you said nothing. Nothing until Luke’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went entirely limp. Jake let go of him after you nodded and you almost laughed as you watched Luke’s face bounce on the pavement just as red and blue lights started to bleed across the street. You weren’t surprised someone had called the cops, maybe they’d do something worthwhile this time.

Jake reached out for you as the sirens grew louder and you happily set your hand in his before carefully pressing your lips to his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

By the time the paramedic had cleaned the thankfully shallow slash on Jake’s chest, Luke was being read his Miranda Rights and you had given your statement to the responding cops.

You watched Luke get shoved into the back of the cop car; one of the cops actually pushed his head down with a palm on the back of his neck like a disobedient puppy.

When Jake stepped in front of you and gently cradled your face, you sagged into his grip, all the remaining fight and tension bleeding out of you in a moment. “It’s done,” was all you could say.

“You finished it,” he said softly.

“We did. And I…” The words stalled on your tongue. “What happens now?”

Jake shook his head before pulling you close to press a kiss to your forehead, your temple, then your lips. “I don’t know, darlin’. But we’ll figure it out together.”

**

The dance was slow and easy, you and Jake simply swayed to the beat as other couples moved around you.

“How are you tonight, Mrs. Seresin?”

You laughed with a shake of your head. He called you that more than your name, more than “Punch,” more than anything else. It had been five years since you’d surprised all your friends and family at your Ugly Holiday Sweater Party that it was actually your wedding and he still didn’t get tired of calling you Mrs. Seresin. But you didn’t think you’d ever tire of hearing it, either. “I’m fine, Captain Seresin.”

His pleased smirk grew and he pulled you a little closer. Well, as close as your bump would allow. Just for a moment, he let go of your hip to smooth a hand over the silk of your gown stretched across your growing bump before resuming your dance.

Your fingers inched up his shoulder to push into the hair at the back of his head, ruining his carefully coiffed style. He was so handsome in his dress whites. The tinge of grey starting to grow at his temples only added to his enduring appeal—and he was all yours. “Your speech was wonderful,” you added with a smile.

He chuckled and shook his head, glancing at another dancing couple beside you. Bradley and Natasha were in their own bubble; it was to be expected at their wedding reception. But you did get a chuckle out of Natasha stealing her husband’s dress white’s hat and wearing it atop her carefully styled hair. To be fair, it did match her gown, too. Their son, welcomed two years ago with the help of a surrogate so both parents could keep flying up until they took their parental time off, was happily eating cake in Bob’s lap at a table in the corner. Bob’s wife was making a valiant effort to keep crumbs off Bob’s dress trousers while Pete kept a napkin beneath the toddler’s chin in an attempt to help. Today had been beautiful and perfect, exactly what you wanted for your best friends’ wedding.

“Thank you for looking it over for me.” He leaned down to brush his mouth against yours and you could feel his smile.

It had been a blissful five years. You may have been a bit of a naval cliche, getting married within a few months of really dating but it worked for you. You were happy. Getting out of the Navy allowed you more time to write. Your publisher was nearly ecstatic with the increase in productivity and offered you a new royalties deal. While it still wasn’t Stephen King money—and you knew you’d never reach that level—you were proud of it.

Jake had made sure the house he bought on the coast had an office for each of you and he happily helped you paint it a soft green that you swore helped you write. When you offhandedly mentioned that it reminded you of his eyes, he fucked you bent over the pricey cherry wood desk he’d bought for you after your latest book hit the best seller’s list. If your math was correct (it was), that was when your first child was conceived. Little Elsie came screaming into the world a few months later and immediately had Jake wrapped around her tiny fingers. She was currently being babysat (aka spoiled) by Grammy Sandy while you and Jake took the weekend for Bradley and Natasha’s wedding—you were a bridesmaid and Jake a groomsman, so you had quite a few things to take care of. The house was filled with pictures of quiet moments you cherished, like Elsie asleep on Jake’s chest a few weeks after she was born, and then more rambunctious moments, too, like the last Halloween party you attended where you were dressed as Ken and Jake was your Barbie. Apparently Jake looked good in everything, including hot pink. Pictures of the Daggers and their families were hung up beside pictures of Danny at his first lecture after earning his PhD and Georgie with her husband with her little boy on her hip. A picture of you and Jake surrounding Mia at her wedding a few months ago was on the mantle above the fireplace beside a picture of you and Lily with Sarah, Junior, and Taylor at Junior’s wedding, too.

Luke had been sent away for a few decades after pleading guilty to attempted murder and aggravated stalking. You doubted he would ever be a threat to you again but you and Jake had both been granted restraining orders against him, too. From what you had heard from the grapevine (Beau mentioned it in passing with a knowing smile), Luke’s father quietly retired from his position in the Navy before the trial and all of the relationships he had cultivated over the decades of his service crumbled when they’d learned of how he had paid for your silence. The ordeal had been exhausting and had left you reeling day after day when you needed to relive all of it while on the stand. But you had a support system. You had the Daggers, your siblings, the Kazanskys, your in-laws, and Jake. Your Ken. He never left your side.

“Is my son giving you any trouble tonight?” It was a recurring question since he learned you were pregnant again. Elsie had given you a few scares in utero and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

“He’s on his best behavior.”

“Good.” Jake stole another kiss and then you stole one right back.

It wasn’t always perfect. No relationship was. You still had to deal with deployments and growing pains that came with expanding your family, and the infrequent disagreements that arose. But it was good. It was worth fighting for. Jake had given you a home that could never be taken from you.

“I love you,” you whispered after he spun you under his arm.

“I love you more.”

A/N: that’s all she wrote, folks! thank you so much for going along on this ride with me. I hope you enjoyed Xx

[mymegrokosmos]

B specifically asked not to be hurt but it's her bday weekend so instead of listening we are writing Yunho smut on this fine Friday evening. Anyway, uh yeah... best friend Yunho. 🔞

content : mentions of drinking, thigh riding, unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, best friends Yunho and reader fooling around.

The evening started the way Thursdays typically did. You showed up at Yunho's cramped little excuse for an office, shared with the always courteous San and Seonghwa, to find him the only one working late. San was just packing up when you walked in, Wooyoung perched halfway on his desk chattering away as you offered them both a wave. You weaved your way past them, carefully avoiding Seonghwa's little shelf of lego creations, to drop down onto the corner of the desk Yunho typically had half covered in papers and miscellaneous stationary.

"Fancy meeting you here."

He glanced up from his grading, pen tapping against his bottom lip as he sat back with a sigh when he finished the page. "Hello stranger."

You smiled as he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. It was always in disarray after these classes. His TA position stressing him out more this semester than it usually did. He was better at managing most of the time but his course load was heavy lately and he'd been staying later and later to finish marking and assignments. The balance wasn't exactly work life balancing and you had yet to see him actually sleep once this week.

He ran a hand over his face when you quirked a brow at him, glancing between him and the pile of papers on his desk. "When are these marks due in?"

"Tuesday."

"How many do you have left to get through?"

"Maybe twenty more? I should be able to finish a few more tonight and then run through the rest tomorrow. Then I can sit down and study for that Stats exam Sunday and help you with our presentation Monday."

"And are you planning on sleeping any time between now and then?"

He sighed. "y/n you know I'm doing my best here. I just don't have time."

You shook your head. "Finish that one and I'll borrow Hwa's or Sannie's desk space to sit down and get through more of our presentation. Then we can go back to mine, since Mingi is definitely not going to let you get any sleep tonight, and I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow."

He blinked up at you. "You've already done like three quarters of the work on this presentation."

"So it won't be much more when I make up 85% and you have a fresh, functioning, brain to look over everything before the final draft Monday. Plus, you're my best bet at actually passing stats and if we're going to be studying all weekend we can at least get some rest in between. And I have plenty of caffeine."

He groaned. "Please do not even talk to me about caffeine right now."

His leg jiggled and you laughed. "On your fifth americano of the day or something are we?"

He shrugged and held up four fingers, biting his lip. You shook your head.

"I'm not even going to ask. Speedrun your marking, I'll be over there and then I'm buying you a drink on the way back to my apartment. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And maybe it'll counteract some of the blood in your caffeine system."

A laugh and then you both turned to set back about your own tasks.

You hummed softly as you worked, only glancing at the time once you'd finished the last section of the powerpoint. Yunho's fresh eyes would catch a ton of small details you'd missed but that was fine. It was why he was always the final run-through on these things. You cracked your back and stretched, pressing save and closing your laptop. You found Yunho pretty much exactly where you had left him.

He sat hunched over his desk, chin resting in one hand as a red pen tapped against one cheek while he poked his tongue into the other. He was so focused or lost in whatever train of thought he was currently jotting down in the margins of the paper he was nearly done that he didn't even start when you came over. You leaned back against the corner of Hwa's desk and watched. He adjusted the glasses on his face as he finished and you bit your lip as he cracked his neck.

"If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to break something important."

It always made you just a little nervous. He grinned, dropping the pen as both arms came up over his head in a stretch you could almost feel. He flopped back into his chair, legs spread, and adjusted the glasses that had begun slipping down over the bridge of his nose. You just sighed and dropped into his lap.

"Done for the night?"

His forehead dropped forward to rest against the back of your shoulder as you cleaned up his desk, hands resting on your thighs as his fingers drew abstract shapes on your jeans.

"Mhm, if I start another one right now I think my head might just explode."

You smiled and started shuffling his things into a pile. "Help me clean up and then we can leave. I have a bottle of soju or seven with your name on them in the fridge."

His little cheer was muffled against the back of your shirt as you both got up.

It didn't take long to walk to your building, your apartment wasn't far from the building all his classes were in this semester and Yunho's long legs forced you to walk a little faster than you would have alone. His presence did make the dark campus feel a little less foreboding so you stuck close as you headed inside and up to your unit.

He followed you in like he always did, at home here since he'd lived part time in your apartment before he and Mingi moved in together last fall. He was more than familiar. You dropped your things in the living room and headed to the kitchen to see what flavours of soju you had available. There was a selection.

It had maybe been a bad idea to suggest alcohol on an empty stomach.

You found yourself half naked, having lost a round of strip poker or two before the takeout arrived, leaning against Yunho's shoulder as you both burst into laughter for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. The food was great and you shoved another bite into Yunho's mouth before he could launch into another story.

"Please shut up and eat your noodles before I suffocate. I think I broke a rib just now."

He chuckled, taking the chopsticks from you and scarfing down the rest of the container while you wiggled around trying to get your bones to sit right again. Your ribs and face hurt from laughing and you were pretty sure you'd cried off most of your mascara already. You took a deep breath.

"Why do I ever listen to you? You're so ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned and you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted to his lips, lingering a little as you reached up to brush a bit of sauce from the corner. His breath hitched and you blinked up at your best friend.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

He shook his head, hand coming up to capture your wrist. You knew, in theory, that they were large but the ease with which his long fingers circled your wrist had you staring. This was new. Or was it?

You didn't think you were that tipsy.

"Hey Yun?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you pinch me please?"

He smirked. "I can think of something better."

You blinked. His face hovered closer, moving slowly. You didn't stop him. Then his lips were on yours and oh, you were so not dreaming. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeak into his mouth and he laughed as he pulled away.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

You reached up to touch your lips, and then to pinch him.

He jumped. "Yah! Hey! You can just tell me if you didn't like it."

You smiled. "I did like it. I was just making sure I didn't black out and accidentally dream this."

He sighed. "No, we're both still awake. Was that really necessary?"

You shrugged and then you were leaning up to kiss him again. He tasted like soju, what was new there, and the strawberry chapstick Hwa had bought him for his birthday last month. His lips were soft and everything but gentle as they worked against yours. You lit up when his tongue parted your lips and plunged into your mouth, sighing against his lips.

He was a good kisser, you'd give him that. Your hands found his wide shoulders and you braced yourself as you climbed into his lap to get closer. Something about Yunho was just addictive and as long as he was good with where this was going, you didn't want to stop.

He was right, why had you never made out before? You'd definitely gotten drunk and tried other things together over the years. It should have been only natural that this was on the list of experimentation, you'd known him since high school after all, but kissing was just one of those things you'd never dared to initiate with Yunho before now.

His hands were everywhere and you found yourself whining into his mouth when they slid down to cup your ass. He squeezed and you rocked forward, gasping as he adjusted you like you weighed nothing. You let Yunho manhandle you, moving you from his lap to straddling one large thigh. You nipped at his jaw when he pressed your hips down, guiding them over his still jeans-clad leg.

"Yunho." You whined.

It was unfair that he was still so clothed while you sat there in just your underwear. It was a matching set at least but neither of you was really paying attention to that particular detail. You tugged on his shirt and he leaned back to watch you unbutton it, hand coming up to fold behind his head. His eyes were dark as they trailed over you and you could feel the heat pooling in your gut.

"Tell me to stop and we can."

You shook your head. "If you stop now I'm disowning you. Hongjoong is going to be my new best friend."

He laughed and leaned in to press kisses down your neck, humming softly against your skin as you finally managed to get him out of his shirt, shoving it off over his shoulders.

He pulled you back in, one hand on your waist guiding you to rock against his flexed thigh as the other came up to cup your breast. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are like this?"

You hummed. "A mess?"

He shrugged, the hand on your breast moving to unclip your bra in one smooth motion. "For me, yeah, that's hot."

"Mm, because you're the one making me desperate?"

He nodded, head dipping down to catch a nipple in his mouth. You gasped, hand tangling in his hair and he groaned as you tugged when his tongue flicked over your skin.

"You have no idea how desperate you make me. It's nice being the one with the upper hand for once."

Before you could ask what, exactly, he meant by that his hands and mouth busied themselves making it impossible to think. You gave in, only getting a minute to breathe when he flipped you around and pulled you back against his chest.

You leaned your head back, tilting your neck to give his lips better access while his fingers moved to trace your wetness over your panties. He bit down on your shoulder when you gasped, fingers trailing under the fabric to ghost over where you needed him the most. He groaned against your skin and you gasped when one finger slid inside you, slowly sinking up to the knuckle.

"Fuck."

"Mm, too much?"

You shook your head, hand grasping his wrist. "No. No, don't stop."

The chuckle against your neck had you shivering. "Oh, greedy tonight are we? My good girl wants another?"

You struggled to force your eyes open. "Please Yun, feels so good. Fill me up. Please."

He didn't ask again, sinking two more fingers knuckle deep as they continued to pump in and out at his pace. He worked you fast and didn't let up until you were shaking, clawing at his thighs and begging. You were pretty sure you'd started crying and you didn't care, the orgasm that swept over you was worth it.

When you caught your breath enough to whimper his name again he was already pulling out his cock, groaning as he adjusted you on his lap again, legs hooking underneath yours to keep you spread open for him.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you cum."

He was stroking himself with the hand that, moments ago, had been mostly inside you. You forced your thighs to cooperate a little longer as you turned to straddle him properly again, hips rocking as his tip slid along your slit, now slick with your own release. He moaned and you found yourself smirking.

Oh, so this was what he had been on about. It did feel good, seeing him such a mess for you, especially when you had barely done anything.

"Let me, please, don't need to be inside but can I...?"

His pathetic whines had you biting your lip and nodding. "Yes, yes Yun. Use me however you need."

You swear he almost came at those words, stopping to stare you dead in the eye and then he was guiding his length along your slit like a man possessed. He felt so good you let your eyes slide shut, hands anchored on his shoulders as you felt him slip inside.

"Mm... just the tip. Please y/n."

His begging nearly undid you. You nodded, hips rolling with his and then suddenly he was grasping you by both hips and slamming up into you. The size of him knocked the breath from your lungs and he groaned.

"Fuck, shit, sorry. Just felt so good. Couldn't help it."

You rocked your hips a little, testing the stretch, and his hips stuttered. You'd never seen him like this and fuck if it wasn't more than a little intoxicating. The breathy moans, the whines as he held himself still just long enough for you to adjust to the sheer length of him pressed fully inside you.

You both paused as he pressed a hand to your pelvis and you caught a glimpse of him bulging in your abdomen. You gasped, he groaned, and then you were being pressed down into the couch while he hovered over you.

"Please please let me do that again."

You guided his hand, back arching as he slammed into you. You watched as he traced his fingers over the outline, cursing under his breath, and whimpered when his pace suddenly went from manic to man on a mission. He was rutting into you so hard he had to hold your waist to keep you from sliding all the way up the length of the couch but neither of you noticed the way the sofa creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips.

By the time he pulled out, hand fisting his cock as he painted your stomach, you were already seeing stars again. You arched up against him, whining and moaning his name as your hand slid down to your clit, fingers working you through your climax while he caught his breath.

"Who knew all needed was to get railed?" You teased, when you glanced up and met his eyes.

He laughed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. That set you off and then you were both shaking with laughter.

"At least let me clean you up before we make another mess."

[ellamuffin97]

You are mine 💚

Pairing : Loki x Fem!Reader

Rating:E

Warnings : spice , sexy flashbacks, jealousy, possessive behaviour, alcohol, cursing

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

You sat at the bar and swirled around the watery remains of your drink. You stared at the melting ice at the bottom of your glass, totally wrapped up in your thoughts.

His voice got so damn rough and low when he was inside you. It was coarse, like shrapnel—it bit into your skin and stayed there, embedded and scarred over, whether you liked it or not.

“Fuck, just like that, kærasta . You feel so good.”

Loki’s hands gripped your ass, guiding your movements as you rode him, your palms resting heavy on his pecs.

“Mmmm, are you going to cum for me? That’s it, make yourself cum on my cock.”

You collapsed forward, forearms landing on either side of his head, hands tangled in his hair, lips pressed to his corded neck. He bent his knees to brace for leverage and started fucking up into you, holding you tight against him as you fell apart.

“Shit, yes, cum for me—I can feel it.”

The loud scrape of a barstool ripped you back to the present moment, and you looked around quickly, hoping your face hadn’t betrayed your filthy thoughts. You’d come here to not think about him.

Needless to say, it wasn’t working.

You were starting to forget why you’d told Loki so many months ago that your relationship was purely casual and would never be anything more. Only fucking him after you had missions together meant seeing him sporadically at best—a few days at a time, maybe a blissful week if you were lucky and the mission needed more time or if the target that you’d follow was far away. Then you’d go your separate ways, not seeing him for weeks or sometimes months, until Stark needs him and Thor again so they have to come back from Asgard .

The last mission you’d had together was three weeks ago. You didn’t like to admit it (even to yourself), but you’d asked him for help when you really didn’t need it. You could have easily catch the target alone… but the job required so much damn time in another country that you couldn’t fathom wasting all that valuable time without him. You weren’t going to not take advantage of six long days London with nothing to do but fuck. You had no regrets about the white lie.

And to your relief, neither Loki didn’t say anything when the target was suspiciously simple to catch.

But if you were at the point of lying about anything just to see him, why did you have this stupid rule in the first place? He had made it clear on several occasions that he wanted your partnership to be more than just about work.

“Stay with me. I want you here.”

No, no. You knew why you drew that line in the sand. You kept him at arm’s length because it was safe. This arrangement was simple. Straightforward. Smart. No strings or complications. After all, his invitation to stay with him wasn’t a promise—it didn’t ensure loyalty or preclude loss. Nothing did. Sooner or later, he’d get tired of you, or you’d get tired of him. Someone would end up too attached and heartbroken.

You couldn’t lose someone who wasn’t yours.

Living by that truth made things easy. Right? Yes. Yes, it did.

…Then why didn’t it feel easy anymore? Why did it hurt so fucking much every time he left Midgard straight after every single mission ?

That wasn’t a question you were ready to unpack at the moment. You signalled to the bartender for another drink, just as a man slid onto the stool next to you. You turned to look at him, and the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile.

Alright, he’d be a sexy enough distraction. If you couldn’t excise the shards of Loki that had worked their way under your skin, the least you could do was find a fun way to ignore them.

Authors pov :

She was here. Of course, she was here.

Seeing her was the last thing he needed. He was here to distract himself, to buy a bottle of something strong and escape to the solitude he finds his peace in . And once he was there, he would not think about her and her soft lips. No, he wasn’t going to think about how beautiful she looked splayed out in his bed , sweaty and wild and his.

*****

“Are you going to join me in here or are you just going to stand there and look at me?” she teased.

She sat up with a wicked smile on her lips and crawled to the end of the bed . She knelt at the edge, reaching out to grasp his shirt and tug him forward. He happily complied, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Speaking of nice views,” she purred. “I love when you wear those leather trousers .”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… now let’s get them off.”

She bowed her head and pressed her lips to the side of his neck, and he tipped his head to the side to give her better access, a quiet moan escaping through his lips. Before he even knew what was happening, she had curled her fingers around the black elastic of his boxers, extended them toward her, and let them snap back . He grunted in surprise, but his playful words of protest died on his tongue when she set her teeth against his skin. She slid her hand in his trousers , rubbing and playing with his dick while her free palm wandered up over the taut muscles of his biceps.

*****

“Excuse me.” The bite of an irritated voice cut through his moment of reminiscence, loud enough to jolt him out of one of his favorite memories.

Loki looked around as a woman pushed past him. He stepped out of the way and muttered an apology. He hadn’t realized he was frozen in the doorway, completely blocking the exit.

He looked back over at the bar. His heart dropped.

No, she wasn’t his. She was definitely not his.

The proof was right in front of his fucking face. There she was, chatting up some handsome man who’d just sat down beside her, her hand playfully swatting his forearm—not that he even needed proof to know she wasn’t his. From the very beginning, she was crystal clear that all he’d ever be to her was an occasional mission partner and casual fuck. And he accepted her boundaries because as much as it hurt to watch her locking inside her room after every job, he’d rather give up his room in the tower and go back with his brother in Asgard .

He would rather have a piece of her than nothing at all .

Loki knew he should go. The smart thing to do would be to turn around right now and head back to Asgard. Staying and watching this unfold would just add more weight to the heavy feeling in his chest—the feeling that settled there months ago, after the first time you’d had sex and she left the next morning, the feeling that only relented when she was by his side once again.

But… if he stayed, he would get to see her for a little while. And… who knows? Maybe she’d see him too, come over, and stop talking to that asshole?

Could that man be considered an asshole for doing nothing wrong? The worst crime he had committed was choosing the most beautiful woman to talk to.

Yes, Loki decided. He was an asshole.

He moved further into the pub , making a beeline for the bar. He stopped at the far end, hand balled into a fist on the wooden counter. He didn’t even notice when the bartender came up and asked him if he wanted anything.

He was too preoccupied watching her. She was largely faced away from him, her body angled toward the idiot she was shamelessly flirting with. For a moment, though, she turned slightly, and the look on her face broke something inside him .It was a look—open and wanting, soft around the edges—that he thought she reserved only for him.

He also watched her smile at him, and an ugly feeling rippled through him—anger, craving, possession. It unfurled through his body like tendrils of smoke, filling up every inch of him until he felt like he was going to choke.

She turned just far enough to meet his gaze, and his feet were moving before he knew what he was going to do.

Enough.

***

Apparently, this stranger was not a good enough distraction. You were talking with him, doing some of your best flirting—despite how eye-wateringly strong his cologne was—and all you could think about was Loki. The man prattled on, not noticing that you weren’t listening to him at all as you slipped right back to a fonder memory.

You were tucked against Loki’s chest in the dark haven of his room, and he was nuzzling his jaw against the side of your neck. He breathed you in.

“You smell good.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Like flowers… and vanilla and a little bit like smoke.”

You smiled against him and leaned up to press your nose to his neck, inhaling.

“You smell good too. Like whisky and something warm… I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Sweat,” he offered.

“No,” you laughed, “Like cinnamon or pine trees… and maybe a light hint of sweat.”

Loki growled and flipped you on your back, bracing himself over you. “Told you,” he teased, dipping down to kiss a line along your collarbone.

“I still like it,” you whispered.

When you realized you were smiling in a slightly dazed, lovesick way, you glanced away from the man in front of you, turning your head to hide your expression. You didn’t want him to think you were looking at him that way.

And when you turned, you caught a familiar gleam of blue eyes in your periphery. As if you’d summoned him straight out of your daydream, Loki was standing at the far end of the bar, his eyes fixed on your face. You smiled at him, and the corners of your mouth turned up even more when he started to make his way around the bar, heading in your direction.

Yes.

You watched him as he walked over, wondering if he’d be open to heading straight to the tower .

And when he reached you… he didn’t so much as pause—you couldn’t detect even the smallest hitch in his step. He walked right on by, tossing a curt nod of acknowledgement in your direction. You didn’t even have the chance to reciprocate his nod before he’d passed.

You were too shocked to even be offended; you were just… crushed.

No, not crushed. Just surprised.

Your gaze followed his back as he wove through the tables. You expected him to find an empty one, to seek the solitude that he so often preferred over the company of most, but instead, he stopped in front of a round booth in the back corner where a beautiful woman was sitting alone. You watched in shock as he said something inaudible to her, and she beamed up at him, sliding over on the bench so he could sit beside her.

What the fuck.

“You okay?”

You snapped your attention back to the man in front of you. He’d finally noticed that you weren’t paying him the slightest bit of attention anymore.

“Uh, yeah sorry… I, uh, have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

He’d recover.

“Have a good night,” you said, absentmindedly patting his arm as you got to your feet.

For a few stunned moments, you stood there by the bar and watched Loki blatantly flirt with this random woman. You couldn’t hear what he was saying from there, but it was clearly… effective. Before they’d exchanged more than a few sentences, she had a hand on his fucking knee.

Your brain stalled.

Normally , Loki terrified everyone he came into contact with. And you didn’t blame them—he wanted to take over the whole planet and caused disaster . You’d seen bigger men than himself flinch when he scratched his arm… and yet, this woman was completely comfortable with him right off the bat, positively swooning.

What the fuck was he saying to her?

He braced an arm on the back of the booth, around her shoulders, and she fluttered her lashes up at him. You could tell from the way his head was tilted towards her that she had his complete, undivided attention. You knew that look well.

Jealousy blazed hot and urgent inside you.

He was putting on a show for you, baiting you. He had to be. He was usually awkward and monosyllabic around strangers. You prided yourself on how talkative and warm he had become around you—only with you. Or at least, you thought he was only like that with you.

The woman slid her hand up a few inches on his thigh . That got your feet moving.

You stalked over to where he was sitting, faced away from you, his body fully angled toward the woman. To your absolute horror, as you moved closer, you started to catch their conversation.

“—you look so strong” the woman giggled, reaching out to grip his bicep.

Loki just hummed his agreement and fucking flexed his arm under her fingers.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

She oooo-ed at the show of muscle, and your fists clenched almost as tightly as your jaw.

He leaned toward her even more, his huge frame dwarfing her. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

SWEETHEART.

Your vision flashed crimson, the edges burned black.

Before she could answer, you slapped a palm down on their table to make your presence known. The woman looked up at you with wide, confused eyes, immediately retracting her hand from Loki’s thigh. Good.

He turned his head slowly, his eyes trained on you over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice calm and even.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” you gritted out.

He didn’t move. “What do you need?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “To talk to you.”

“Well, we were about to—” the woman started to protest then caught the threatening look on your face and recoiled, scooting backward on the bench.

Something primal in your chest purred in satisfaction every time she drew away from Loki in response to your presence. You wanted to chase that feeling.

Before you could stop yourself, you moved in even more. You stood right behind where he sat on the edge of the bench, and leaned over him, one of your hands finding a home on his knee, the other draped possessively around his shoulders.

His eyes were still turned toward you, but he didn’t move. You fixed the woman with a searing gaze.

She scrunched her eyebrows, her eyes flicking between where your hands were resting on Loki’s body and up to his unmoving face, which was glued to your own face. She no longer had his attention. It was all on you.

As it should be.

“Would you give us a minute?” you asked, your lips pursed tightly in a fake smile.

The woman let out an awkward, disbelieving laugh—which was fair, you were kicking her out of her own table after all—and shuffled around the booth, getting to her feet. “Yeah, okay, I guess I’ll let you two talk.”

“Thanks so much.”

When she was gone, Loki slid along the bench, making room for you to sit. When he turned toward you, your face was set in anger again, hand still clutching his knee.

He reclined against the seat, calm as can be. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

You scoffed at him. “Uh, what the fuck was that?”

He cocked his head the tiniest bit. “What was what?”

“That little performance? That flirting? What the fuck was that?”

“It was flirting,” he deadpanned. “Well spotted.”

Your jaw fell open, and you sputtered for a moment. “You-you were just doing it to get under my skin—it was so obvious. You’re not acting like yourself at all.”

He chuckled. “If I was doing it to get under your skin, I’d say it’s working.”

You let go of his knee to cross your arms over your chest defensively. “I mean—yeah, it was pretty painful to watch you throw yourself at her like that… though that tactic seemed to work on her,” you conceded, looking away from him for a moment.

Suddenly Loki thawed, dropping his nonchalant facade and leaning toward you to rest a hand on your thigh.

“You can just say you were jealous.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the way his touch lit up all the nerves in your body.

He shrugged and continued:”You know I’d rather flirt with you, but we’re not on a mission together right now, so…”

“Yeah, well, you know what? I’m starting to rethink my policy,” you huffed.

He squeezed your thigh. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes at his smug reply. “You could have just told me that you wanted more, you know.”

“I have told you that. Many times.”

Suddenly, you felt silly. The anger that had flared so hot and bright faded, leaving you feeling exposed. You dropped your arms and sighed. He was right. This whole situation had been orchestrated by… you.

“Yeah, okay, you have.”

He crowded your space suddenly, draping his arm around your shoulder and dipping his lips down to your ear.

“And I’ll tell you again if it helps,” he growled, his voice dipping an octave

“I want you to be mine and only mine … all the time , forever kærasta”

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

He drew back, settling into a relaxed position.

“now , what is it exactly what you wanted from me? Voice it out babe”

You knew exactly what you wanted. You’d known from the beginning. That possessive feeling in your chest stirred again.

You rested your hand on his knee again and looked up in his eyes. “I want that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled up at him.

Loki stiffened, his back straightening, as your hand wandered up his thigh, settling brazenly between his legs. He was still as a statue, his breath suddenly shallow as he hardened under your touch.

“Mine,” you breathed, squeezing him lightly.

“You and that delicious dick of yours “

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

For the Good of the Hive

This story is very long so I've put it under the cut!

Another day, another beating. Hero willed themselves to go outside and face the day. A day full of fighting criminals and getting ripped apart by the news for it. Only, when they got outside, there were no criminals in sight. It was as if one of the most crime-ridden cities in the world just decided to take a break for the day.

Hero stared in confusion. They were in the most dangerous parts of town. What was going on?

“Hello Hero!” someone waved cheerfully.

“Henchman!?” Hero asked in shock.

“It’s Jerry actually,” Henchman said, “lovely morning for a walk, don’t you think?”

“Uh… yeah,” Hero said, “yeah it is.”

“Well, I’m off to visit my grandma. Toodles!”

Henchmen, Jerry, went whistling down the road. They stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the little green figure to light up before crossing. They weren’t even jaywalking!?

“Hero! Finally, we caught you!”

Hero turned, so there was a criminal still about! Hero readied an ice shard but paused when a microphone was shoved in their face.

“The mayor is in talks to give you the keys to the city,” Reporter said, “how do you feel about that?”

“That’s really- wait what?”

“Mayor is also gifting you a generous donation through the brand-new Hero fund,” Reporter said cheerfully.

“That- wow- uh- are you sure?”

Reporter laughed heartily.

“Oh of course, your reward from this city is long overdue.”

Hero blinked. There was something off about Reporter. Then it hit them, their eyes were tinted a honey-gold. In fact, so was their camera man.

“Did you… did you get new contacts?” Hero asked.

Reporter just laughed again, that same, cheery laugh that seemed way too animated to be genuine.

“That’s our Hero for you folks,” Reporter smiled, “we’ll be back at seven!”

Reporter and the cameraman left just as soon as they had shown up. Hero blinked in confusion. What the heck was going on?

…

“Hello Hero!”

“Hello, Hero!”

“Good to see you, Hero!”

Hero waved awkwardly at the pedestrians that they passed. All of them had honey-gold eyes. That’s it. They were getting to the bottom of this. They went inside a nearby ice cream shop and approached the cashier.

“Hero! Hello! What can I do for you?”

“Hi,” Hero said, “um, listen, did you feel… different waking up this morning?”

“I don’t know what you mean Hero,” the cashier said, “but since you’re here, can I interest you in today’s special flavor? It’s mint chocolate chip!”

My favorite, Hero thought.

“Are you sure? Nothing weird?”

The cashier handed Hero a cone with three scoops of ice cream.

“Nope,” they said with a cheerful smile.

Hero went to get the small bit of cash in their suit pocket.

“Ah ah, that’s on the house!” the cashier said, “have a good day, Hero! Thanks for the visit!”

…

Hero went straight to the belly of the beast.

“Commissioner!” Hero shouted, “got a question for you! You in here?”

The head of police came up to Hero, smiling broadly.

“What can I do for you, Hero?”

“Look, we both know how you feel about me, and I’m surprised you haven’t arrested me, but-”

“Arrest you?” Commissioner laughed, “oh that’s a good one, Hero.”

“…Yeah,” Hero said, “…do you know of anything strange happening last night or this morning?”

“Other than my favorite donuts being free today? Can’t say I do.”

“No major crimes? Nothing?”

“Nope. And it’s all thanks to you,” Commissioner said, beaming.

…

Hero sighed, leaving the police precinct. There was only one place left that could possibly provide an explanation…

…

“Supervillain!” Hero shouted, “get your butt in here!”

Supervillain came around the corner.

“Ah, Hero, my dear little crime-fighter, how are you today?”

“Everyone is being nice to me!” Hero huffed.

Supervillain chuckled.

“That doesn’t sound like a problem,” Supervillain said, sitting down in a plush armchair, “why come to me about it?”

Supervillain gestured to the armchair opposite them. Hero hesitantly sat down. A servant came by and offered them a cup of tea and a honey bun. Hero took it and started nibbling on the honey bun.

“Something is fishy,” Hero said, “no one is ever nice to me!”

“Well, they should be, considering all you do for them.”

Hero blinked, watching the servant hand Supervillain their own cup of tea and honey bun. They seemed so cheerful for no reason, and their eyes were honey-gold. They looked at Supervillain’s, which were noticeably blue-green.

“You did this,” Hero realized.

“Oh my little honey bee,” Supervillain chuckled, “it took you so long to find the queen, didn’t it?”

Supervillain took another sip of their tea, then stood. They crossed the room to the enormous penthouse window and gazed down at the city below.

“You have gone unappreciated for so long, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Now you finally have a colony that loves you.”

Supervillain turned to Hero.

“And a queen that’s ready to promote you,” they said.

Hero suddenly felt all the alarm bells going off in their head. They immediately stood, ice at the ready.

“You mind controlled an entire city to pretend to be nice to me!?” Hero shouted, “you do see how messed up that is, right!?”

“Oh, Hero, don’t get so upset,” Supervillain said, “they aren’t pretending. They love you! I’m just helping them show it.”

“I’m going to stop you, you know that right!?” Hero said, “I can’t let you get away with this!”

Supervillain sighed.

“I had hoped you’d accept the change gladly, but then, free will is so fickle…”

Supervillain nodded to the space behind Hero. Hero whipped around and saw two henchmen coming up right behind them. They gripped them on either side and held them fast. Supervillain came up to Hero.

“Now now, this won’t hurt,” Supervillain said, “I just need to add you to the hive.”

Supervillain snapped their fingers, and their true power emerged, swirling around Hero. Their blue eyes swirled, turning a bright honey-gold.

…

“Hello Hero!”

“Hello Jerry!” Hero waved eagerly, their arm linked with Supervillain’s.

The city was abuzz with preparations for Hero to receive the key to the city. Everyone was as busy as a bee. And Supervillain was the busiest of them all, making sure their city stayed happy and sweet as honey.

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